In 1970 Amartya Sen exposed an apparent antinomy that has come to be known as the Paradox of the Paretian Libertarian (Sen, 1970b, pp. 152–57). Sen introduced his paradox by establishing a simple but startling theorem. Roughly put, what he proved was that if a mechanism for selecting social choice functions satisfies two standard adequacy conditions, there are possible situations in which it will violate either the very weak libertarian precept that every individual has at least some rights or the seemingly innocuous Paretian principle that an option should be judged unacceptable if there is an available alternative that everyone prefers to it. Many economists and philosophers have proposed solutions to Sen's problem, but there is no general consensus on what solution (if any) is correct. In the present paper I argue that Sen's original theorem fails to establish the existence of any conflict between libertarianism and Paretianism. Furthermore, I contend that Sen has misinterpreted certain other theorems which he has used to defend the existence of a paradoxical conflict between these two doctrines. In general, I try to show that whenever Sen posits a Paretian-libertarian conflict to explain an apparently troubling result in social choice theory, the difficulty can be better dealt with either by claiming that the theorem in question imposes overly strong background constraints on the form of social choice functions or by claiming that it relies on an unacceptable construal of individual rights.

One feature of socialism that has been little discussed in the recent revival of interest in Marx is the basic form of economic organization that will characterize such a society. Marx's view, to be documented in what follows, is that socialism would not have a market economy. This prediction should be a matter of some embarrassment or consternation to twentieth-century socialists outside of the Soviet bloc who claim a Marxist heritage. Despite the fact (or perhaps because of the fact) that some socialist regimes in the first half of this century did carry out a program of (largely) abolishing the market, the abolition of markets is no longer on the agenda for developed and developing countries. On the Left, anyway, some form of market socialism seems to be the preferred alternative; Yugoslavia is often pointed to as an imperfect real world exemplar of what market socialism might be like.

I want in this paper to do two things. First, I want to respond to some studies that argue that people are often not rational: that people regularly and systematically depart from rationality. The conclusion itself does not worry me. I pressed for the same in a recent book (Schick, 1984). But the arguments seem to me wrong, and wrong in an interesting way. There may be something to be learned from seeing how and why they fail.

Is rhetoric just a new and trendy way to épater les bourgeois? Unfortunately, I think that the newfound interest of some economists in rhetoric, and particularly Donald McCloskey in his new book and subsequent responses to critics (McCloskey, 1985a, 1985b), gives that impression. After economists have worked so hard for the past five decades to learn their sums, differential calculus, real analysis, and topology, it is a fair bet that one could easily hector them about their woeful ignorance of the conjugation of Latin verbs or Aristotle's Six Elements of Tragedy. Moreover, it has certainly become an academic cliché that economists write as gracefully and felicitously as a hundred monkeys chained to broken typewriters. The fact that economists still trot out Keynes's prose in their defense is itself an index of the inarticulate desperation of an inarticulate profession.

One of the most actively discussed aspects of Keynes's thought during the last decade has been his concern with uncertainty and probability theory. As the concerns of current macroeconomic theorists have turned increasingly to the effects of expectations and uncertainty, interest has grown in the fact that Keynes was the author of A Treatise on Probability (1921) and that uncertainty plays a prominent role in Chapter 12 of The General Theory as well as in three 1937 papers in which he summarized The General Theory's main point. Not surprisingly, though, there has been very little agreement in this recent discussion about exactly what the significance of Keynes's early work in probability was to his later work as an economist, or about what the roles of uncertainty and expectations are in The General Theory.

Why do people expend resources to vote in large-number situations where the probability of their affecting the outcome is close to zero? In a recent article, Geoffrey Brennan and Loren Lomasky (1985, p. 198) argue provocatively that Adam Smith's The Theory of Moral Sentiments (TMS) not only predicts such behavior, but further predicts that people “frequently” vote for outcomes that cost them more than they would individually be willing to pay. In other words, in the relevant environment, they claim that individuals will systematically express false preferences for costly outcomes they “really” do not want. I submit that a fair reading of TMS in fact provides no basis for their view; if anything, TMS suggests the opposite.

In their article, Geoffrey Brennan and Loren Lomasky (1985, p. 199) present an alternative to market theories of voting behavior. Contrary to market theories which view the voter as acting to maximize the expected self-interest, the alternative view sees voting as fundamentally an act of self-expression: “Voting, like speech, is an expressive activity providing an outlet for one's moral sentiments. We suggest that it is the expressive return to a vote that frequently determines the behavior of individuals in large-number electorates.”

How may we best understand the motivational structure that stands behind individuals' acts of voting? In “The Impartial Spectator Goes to Washington” we suggested that expressive concerns swamp narrowly consequential motivations, in contradistinction to normal market transactions in which the priority is reversed. A striking consequence of this fact is that individuals will be led to vote for outcomes that they would reject were they in a position to act decisively. In this regard we found the moral psychology Adam Smith develops in The Theory of Moral Sentiments (TMS) (and, to a lesser extent, in The Wealth of Nations) remarkably fecund in suggesting alternatives to what we call the standard theory of electoral behavior.

Rosenberg (1986) argues that economists have embraced the methodology of scientific research programs, and the writings of Imre Lakatos (1978), at the same time that philosophers have been abandoning that approach. According to Rosenberg, the methodology of scientific research programs (MSRP) appears to allow some work in economics, which is neither tested nor testable, to be “scientific” nonetheless. That is, MSRP justifies some current practices which look hard to justify on strict falsificationist, or dogmatic positivist, grounds.

Weintraub is not really interested in whether economics is “science” or not. “Economists are not so unsophisticated as to think that calling economics a ‘science’ says anything about what economists do or should do” (1987, p. 140). But can it really be a matter of indifference to him whether the subject has the character of chemistry as opposed to literary criticism?