by P. J. O'Rourke (Author)



Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly
The famous satirist headlines a new series of Books That Changed the
World," in which well-known authors read great books "so you don't have
to." While irreverently dissecting Adam Smith's 18th-century
antimercantilist classic, The Wealth of Nations, O'Rourke continues the
dogged advocacy of free-market economics of his own books, such as Eat the
Rich. His analysis renders Smith's opus more accessible, while providing
the perfect launching pad for O'Rourke's opinions on contemporary subjects
like the World Bank, defense spending and Bill Moyers's intelligence (or
lack thereof, according to O'Rourke). Readers only vaguely familiar with
Smith's tenets may be surprised to learn how little he continues to be
understood today. As O'Rourke observes, "there are many theories in [The
Wealth of Nations], but no theoretical system that Smith wanted to put in
place, except 'the obvious and simple system of natural liberty [that]
establishes itself of its own accord." Libertarian that he is, O'Rourke
would probably agree that one shouldn't take only his word on Smith.
Still, the book reads like a witty Cliffs Notes, with plenty of challenges
for the armchair economist to wrap his head around.

From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com

Back in 1776, a subject of the British Empire published a remarkably
durable statement about the desires and striving of mankind and the deep
human yearning for freedom. This document, whose verities echo and
resonate throughout the generations, is regarded with something close to adoration.

Oh, and the Declaration of Independence was published that year, too.
An Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, the
lengthy tome penned by Adam Smith, then a 53-year-old Scottish logician
and economist, has had nearly as great an impact on mankind as the much
shorter document inked by Thomas Jefferson. A staple of Great Books
courses, The Wealth of Nations is a sort of Bible for free-market
devotees. Like the Bible, however, it is more cited than read -- and
frequently least read by those who cite it most. And so having a
well-known, highly accessible writer introduce Smith's great work to
contemporary audiences is a great idea. The guide for the perplexed is
P.J. O'Rourke -- satirist, libertarian, author, wit.

It's an incongruous pairing. Smith embarked on a systematic, lengthy,
earnest examination of the economic world. "My job is to make quips,
jests, and waggish comments," O'Rourke states. But like chocolate and
salt, this unlikely combination works well together. In this book,
O'Rourke is a charming, highly literate blogger -- one who thinks before
actually writing -- elucidating Smith's arguments and making insightful
comments along the way. It's a safe bet the words "Talmud" and "P.J.
O'Rourke" have never been used in the same sentence. Yet there is
something slightly Talmudic to the approach.

O'Rourke nicely lays out Smith's chief contributions to our understanding
of economic relationships and of the ways in which government policies can
help or hinder trade. "Adam Smith cannot be said to have constructed the
capitalist system," explains O'Rourke. "What he did was provide the logic
of a level ground of economic rights upon which free enterprise could be
built more easily." To a large degree, Smith was light years ahead of his
time -- in arguing aggressively for free trade, in proclaiming the dignity
of labor at a time when much labor was unfree, and in making the now
obvious connections between the pursuit of sustenance and riches and the
pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. "Smith saw the moral potential in
both our interest in others and our self-interest," O'Rourke writes.

O'Rourke neatly highlights the inconsistencies and occasional
contradictions inherent in Smith's view of capitalism. For instance, "the
arguments for freedom in The Wealth of Nations are almost uncomfortably
pragmatic." The Smith who comes through here is more aware of the
limitations of free markets than many of the Financial Times-reading,
regulation-loathing acolytes who swear by Smith today. Smith warned
against greed. He favored progressive taxation. He was suspicious.
("People of the same trade seldom meet together . . . but the conversation
ends in a conspiracy against the public.") At times, he sounds more like
Eliot Spitzer than Milton Friedman.

While the Smith that emerges in these pages is frequently timeless, the
same can't always be said for O'Rourke. Many of the targets of his quips
are so obvious, the punch lines can be seen from across the Firth of
Forth. There are entirely predictable smacks at Bill Moyers, PBS, Paris
Hilton, Berkeley, conservationists, the United Nations, teachers' unions,
liberal Democrats and the poor. On occasion, one wishes the Invisible Hand
would smack O'Rourke upside the head, as when he argues that Smith
wouldn't have proposed "rebuilding slums below sea level so college kids
have a place to get drunk during Mardi Gras." Occasionally, this wag's a dog.

But O'Rourke does manage to tease out an interesting contradiction in
Smith's work. Today, free market devotees tend to regard the free market
and the attendant competition it spawns as a great leveler, as a guarantee
that advantages earned in one generation don't automatically get passed on
to successive ones. But such views are perhaps better associated with the
20th-century economist Joseph Schumpeter, who coined the term "creative
destruction." O'Rourke points out that, forward-looking as Smith was, he
was still a man of the 18th century. He was concerned with order,
respectful of tradition and rank (he worked as a tutor for a duke for
several years) and not particularly hostile to class. "The peace and order
of society is more important than even the relief of the miserable," he
wrote. Unlike the French philosophes across the channel who were seeking
to reinvent the world, Smith sought merely to improve it.

Smith was clearly comfortable with some of the contradictions in his life
and work. In 1778, he was named commissioner of customs for Scotland,
following in the path of his father and other relatives in holding public
positions charged with maintaining one of the great barriers to free trade
-- taxes on imports. "Between book sales and the commissionership, Smith
was making money with efforts to eliminate customs duties and with efforts
to collect them," O'Rourke notes. "He wouldn't have thought it was as
funny as we do. It was the family business."

Product Details

Hardcover: 256 pages
Publisher: Atlantic Monthly Press (December 4, 2006)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0871139499