The last of the true intellectuals?
If you wanted an example of a classic 19th Century liberal, you would have to point to Deepak. I met him first when he arrived at the World Bank, bow tie and pipe in tow, in 1983. He was a well-established scholar (and a gentleman) and I was busy in the transition from a 20th Century liberal (socially and economically left-wing) to that broadly represented by Deepak (socially liberal but one who looked for hard evidence to substantiate many so-called “liberal” economic ideas). Our bond was solidified by the closeness of our views on several subjects, but we did differ on some.
Another characteristic of Deepak that I admired, and have shared, is that friendships should have very little association with political and/or ideological beliefs. He was close, very close, to Mani Shankar Aiyar, and close to many others on the other side. I don’t know how many have extended that courtesy to Deepak, but it is something we should all remember him by, and learn.
In these politically charged lockdown times, civility, respect, and friendship to others with different beliefs is even more important. Given his “conservative” bent (labelling him as such does not do justice but necessary for instant communication), and his Indian background (at the time he was growing up conservative was/is a fourletter word in India) he, like the few Indian others who shared his world view, was often subject to guilt-by-association trips of others. But it is a recognition of his intellectual and personal integrity that he had many friends from across the aisle.
Deepak put a lot of premium on
evidence, hard evidence, and was a pioneer in thinking about poverty and inequality. In the mid-1980s, he and Hal Myint commissioned a study of 21 developing countries. The book was published in 1999 as
The Political Economy of Poverty, Equity and Growth. In this study, Deepak and Hal Myint “solved” the difficult empirical problem of identification. How? By comparing countries similar in inheritance and endowments but dissimilar in outcomes — like Sri Lanka and Malaysia? As would be said later by others, “What a brilliant idea, Sirji”.
It was Deepak who suggested and recommended that I become a member of the Mont Pelerin Society, an intellectual gathering of scholars. It was founded in 1947 by two future Nobel Prize winners, Friedrich von Hayek and Milton Friedman, two scholars that Deepak deeply admired, and no coincidence, so did I. Both he and I admired Hayek’s prescient insight into the world order, and political behaviour as analysed in The Road to Serfdom. This book, in my view, should be required reading, at the undergraduate level, in every curriculum. As should Deepak Lal’s book Unintended Consequences, published in 1998. The subtitle of the book is indicative of the wide creative compass that was Deepak’s mind: The Impact of Factor Endowments, Culture, and Politics on Long-run Economic Performance. The parallel with The Road to Serfdom is complete — unintended consequences are unforeseen developments only seen by a rare few. I have always believed that Deepak should have got the Nobel Prize.
Do I have criticisms of Deepak, either as a person or as an intellectual? Honestly, no. But I must mention that we differed sharply on climate change. He did not believe that temperature rise was man-carbon made. He obviously did not deny that icebergs melting and temperatures rising (all puns intended) were a serious human, and political problem. But he believed that it was part of a millennium process that unfolded over hundreds, if not thousands, of years. There is some intellectual support for this idea (check out Google citations to Danish physicist Henrik Svensmark). In his 2011 piece for the Business Standard, Deepak wrote: “The CO2 theory of global warming could soon be superseded by an alternative concept based on clouds to explain climate change.” In public, we have disagreed on climate change; a rare disagreement amongst us. But on several such occasions, there was an understanding twinkle in his eye — of course we can disagree, and maybe, just maybe, I (Deepak) am wrong!
I was his junior in many dimensions. I learnt much from him, and his books. He kept to a gruelling pace with one book every two years or so. And every third book a classic. There are not too many scholars (right now I cannot think of any other) who can claim to have written on hard economics (via geometry, the tool used by all the great scholars), hard history and philosophy, and combined them all ( Hindu Equilibrium, In Praise of Empires).
Does that make him unique? In many ways, yes. It was always entertaining, and enlightening, to meet Deepak and his scholarly, vivacious and warm life-long companion, Barbara Lal. I consider myself privileged, and immensely lucky, to have known and interacted with Deepak over all these 40 odd years. Goodbye — and au revoir.