As many readers know, my husband, Richard Stroup, died in November. For those who didn’t know him, here is a short obituary. I very much appreciate the messages so many have shared with me about Rick.
Rick was somewhat skeptical of history as a discipline because he didn’t see any theory behind it (it seemed more like “one damned thing after another“). He preferred economic theory and its application to political behavior, which is called public choice economics. He and his coauthor James D. Gwartney were among the pioneers in this field.
We are all aware of rising student debt, which now exceeds $1.6 trillion in the United States, dwarfing credit card debt ($930 billion). Although student loan totals have been growing for decades, only recently has their human toll been widely discussed, leading to calls to forgive debts and make some college tuition-free.
“Student debt has shaped how Americans live, work, and form relationships,” writes Josh Mitchell in his new book, The Debt Trap. Young people are delaying home ownership, putting off marriage, avoiding starting businesses, and failing to save for retirement, he says—all because they are trying to pay off their student loans.
Mitchell is a Wall Street Journal reporter. The book’s subtitle is “How Student Loans Became a National Catastrophe,” and Mitchell’s job is to tell the complicated story. Federal guarantees of student loans began in 1965, when the Higher Education Act was passed with the enthusiastic endorsement of President Lyndon B. Johnson.
It is a grim story and in many ways familiar: a long, slow process by which politicians, government bureaucrats, and private businesses pursued their narrow interests while failing to acknowledge the logic and warnings that foretold disaster. Supporting it all was the public, ignorant of the details but eager to send their children to college.
Why do so many U.S. states have two rival flagship universities, one focused on agriculture and technology and the other steeped in liberal arts traditions? In Montana, for example, one is (jocularly) the “cow college,” the other, “the dancing school over the hill.”
The agricultural and technical university, which often has “state” in its name, is typically a land-grant university formed under the auspices of the Morrill Act of 1862. It was meant to be a practical, down-to-earth “people’s university,” and even today it is less prestigious than the state’s traditional university, usually founded much earlier. But the emphasis on technology has made some of the land-grant universities research powerhouses and often bigger than their in-state rivals.
The history of these schools is so complicated and idiosyncratic that it provides a fertile field for understanding how history moves forward (in time, not necessarily making progress). My illustration above of “State U.” vs. “University of” is a simplification; some traditional colleges added agriculture and mechanics to their curricula after the Morrill Act passed and there were other patterns as well. Ultimately, all 50 states got at least one land-grant college.
Studying U. S. agricultural history, as I have been doing, sheds new light on historical issues that once seemed solved. Thus my question: Could the deterioration of Southern soil have been a cause of the Civil War?
We know that the Civil War was not fought over freeing slaves but over whether slavery would expand as the nation moved westward. [1] It is less well-known that the South experienced widespread deterioration of its land during the half-century before the Civil War. Much of the South was planted in large monocultures, first tobacco and then cotton. Growing cotton and tobacco year after year takes the nutrients out of the soil.
Did you ever wonder why the computer keyboard has the design it does? It is called QWERTY, named after the first six letters located under the numbers, where you might expect to see ABCDEF.
The reason for this oddity is that the keyboard was designed in the 1870s for primitive mechanical typewriters. Some typebars (bars with letters on the end) kept hitting one another, stopping the flow of writing. By separating the most-used letters, the QWERTY layout reduced clashes of this kind (and in the process probably slowed down the typist).
But why do we have the same keyboard today, long after typebars no longer run into one another—in fact, typebars having long ago disappeared? That is the subject of a debate that reflects different views of how markets operate. Continue reading “Battle of the Keys: Why Do We Have QWERTY?”
