that ricardo dealt with when he first stated the idea, and which is a staple of even first-year courses in economics. In fact, one never teaches the Ricardian model without emphasizing precisely the way that model refutes the claim that competition from low-wage countries is necessarily a bad thing, that it shows how trade can be mutually beneficial regardless of differences in wage rates. The point is not that low-wage competition never poses a problem. Rather, what is significant is that despite ostentatiously citing Ricardo, Goldsmith completely misses one of the essential lessons of his argument One might argue that Goldsmith is a straw man, that he is an intellectual lightweight whom nobody would take seriously as a commentator on these issues. But The Trap is structured as a discussion with Yves Messarovitch, the economics editor of Le Figaro, Mr. Messarovitch certainly took Sir James seriously(never raising any objections to his version of international trade theory), and the book became a best-seller in France. In the United States, Goldsmith did not sell as many books, but his views were featured in intellectual magazines like New Perspectives quarterly, he was invited to speak to the US Congress; and the Clinton Administration took his views seriously enough to send its chief economist, Laura Tyson, to debate him on television. In short, while goldsmith's failure to understand the basic idea of comparative advantage may seem stunningly obvious to any trained economist, other intellectuals -- including editors and journalists who specialize on economic matters regarded his views as, at the very least, a valuable addition to the debate Or consider the recent anti-free-trade writings of James Fallows the Washington editor of The Atlantic Monthly and one of America's most prominent intellectuals. In his book looking at the sun (1994), Fallows argues that Asian success proves the effectiveness of protectionist policies in promoting economic growth. One might have expected him to offer some intellectually cutting-edge explanation of why this might be so, of why comparative advantage is invalid in the modern world economy. But instead he claims that economists have gone astray by ignoring the nineteenth-century ideas of Friedrich List! One must assume that Fallows actually read List; in which case his praise for List shows clearly that he does not understand Ricardo. For List's old book, like Goldsmith's new one, is the work of a man who, right from the beginning, just didnt get it; who could not get straight in his mind how trade between two countries could raise incomes in both (A sample List argument he points out that agricultural land near cities is more valuable than that far away, and concludes that riffs on manufactured goods will help farmers as well as industrialists) While the ideas of both Fallows and Goldsmith have been well received in intellectual circles, they have not by any means persuaded everyone. What is striking, however, is that virtually none of the reviews of their books have pointed out that they appear not to understand comparative advantage (Indeed, reviews of Fallows's book tended to praise his economic sophistication and question his political and cultural analysis). The explanation, of course, is that the reviewers don't understand it r, in some cases, that editors who didn, t understand the concept refused to allow it to be mentioned in the reviews. (I speak from personal experience). I believe that much of the effectiveness of economists in public debate comes from their false supposition that intelligent people who read and even write about world trade must grasp the idea of comparative advantage With very few exceptions, they don,'t--and they don' t even want to hear about it. Why 2. The cult of the new One of America's new intellectual stars is a young writer named Michael Lind, whose contrarian essays on politics have given him a reputation as a brilliant enfant terrible. In 1994 Lind published anthat Ricardo dealt with when he first stated the idea, and which is a staple of even first-year courses in economics. In fact, one never teaches the Ricardian model without emphasizing precisely the way that model refutes the claim that competition from low-wage countries is necessarily a bad thing, that it shows how trade can be mutually beneficial regardless of differences in wage rates. The point is not that low-wage competition never poses a problem. Rather, what is significant is that despite ostentatiously citing Ricardo, Goldsmith completely misses one of the essential lessons of his argument. One might argue that Goldsmith is a straw man, that he is an intellectual lightweight whom nobody would take seriously as a commentator on these issues. But The Trap is structured as a discussion with Yves Messarovitch, the economics editor of Le Figaro; Mr. Messarovitch certainly took Sir James seriously (never raising any objections to his version of international trade theory), and the book became a best-seller in France. In the United States, Goldsmith did not sell as many books, but his views were featured in intellectual magazines like New Perspectives Quarterly; he was invited to speak to the US Congress; and the Clinton Administration took his views seriously enough to send its chief economist, Laura Tyson, to debate him on television. In short, while Goldsmith's failure to understand the basic idea of comparative advantage may seem stunningly obvious to any trained economist, other intellectuals -- including editors and journalists who specialize on economic matters -- regarded his views as, at the very least, a valuable addition to the debate. Or consider the recent anti-free-trade writings of James Fallows, the Washington editor of The Atlantic Monthly and one of America's most prominent intellectuals. In his book Looking at the Sun (1994), Fallows argues that Asian success proves the effectiveness of protectionist policies in promoting economic growth. One might have expected him to offer some intellectually cutting-edge explanation of why this might be so, of why comparative advantage is invalid in the modern world economy. But instead he claims that economists have gone astray by ignoring the nineteenth-century ideas of Friedrich List! One must assume that Fallows actually read List; in which case his praise for List shows clearly that he does not understand Ricardo. For List's old book, like Goldsmith's new one, is the work of a man who, right from the beginning, just didn't get it; who could not get straight in his mind how trade between two countries could raise incomes in both. (A sample List argument: he points out that agricultural land near cities is more valuable than that far away, and concludes that tariffs on manufactured goods will help farmers as well as industrialists). While the ideas of both Fallows and Goldsmith have been well received in intellectual circles, they have not by any means persuaded everyone. What is striking, however, is that virtually none of the reviews of their books have pointed out that they appear not to understand comparative advantage. (Indeed, reviews of Fallows's book tended to praise his economic sophistication and question his political and cultural analysis). The explanation, of course, is that the reviewers don't understand it either -- or, in some cases, that editors who didn't understand the concept refused to allow it to be mentioned in the reviews. (I speak from personal experience). I believe that much of the ineffectiveness of economists in public debate comes from their false supposition that intelligent people who read and even write about world trade must grasp the idea of comparative advantage. With very few exceptions, they don't -- and they don't even want to hear about it. Why? 2. The cult of the new One of America's new intellectual stars is a young writer named Michael Lind, whose contrarian essays on politics have given him a reputation as a brilliant enfant terrible. In 1994 Lind published an