Clark’s intellectual Sudoku 149

European Review of Economic History, 12, 149–155.
C© 2008 Cambridge University Press Printed in the United Kingdom doi:10.1017/S1361491608002190

Clark’s intellectual Sudoku
H A N S - J O A C H I M V O T H
Universitat Pompreu Fabra and ICREA. Economics Department, Ramon Trias
Fargas 25–27, Barcelona, Catalunya E-08005, Spain, voth@mit.edu

For many years, Greg Clark was mainly known amongst economic historians
for two things – his devasting book reviews are as witty as they are insightful.
He also invented a signature recipe for academic articles. Start with a fresh
puzzle. Chop some theory and carefully knead into puzzle. Gently squeeze
some data and mix well. Garnish with a racy dressing of Cambridge-honed
essay-writing skills, while stirring the pot. Then, turn up the heat and watch
how the puzzle slowly mushrooms into an ever larger paradox. Wrap into
some mystery and serve as is.

Given these two proclivities, news that Greg Clark was writing a book
caused a bit of a stir. There were those who expected that the right to review
the book would be auctioned off on Ebay, with high bids by Graham Snooks
and the friends of Walt Rostow. Others predicted that a book by Greg would
turn into a mega-mystery maze manuscript – one out of which the author
himself could not possibly emerge with proofs in hand.

As it turns out, the book hit the bookshelves quite quickly. What started
out as lecture notes (which Greg Clark lent me when I was a struggling
visiting professor, trying to prepare my first course on European economic
history) has turned into a handsome 420-page tome – just big enough
not to be suspected of being pop scholarship, and still small enough to
be taken down to the beach or onto the next interminable flight. It is the
latest contribution in the distinguished Princeton University Press economic
history series, edited by Joel Mokyr. Instead of having to outbid each other
for the right to review the book, there are actually opportunities to offer
one’s views galore. After the New York Times correspondent Nicolas Warde
discovered the book and wrote about it with the eye-catching headline ‘In
dusty archives, a theory of affluence’, a staggering number of reviews have
appeared. From the Atlantic Monthly to the Economist and the Süddeutsche
Zeitung, journalists, economic historians and economists have dissected the
book’s merits. It clearly touched a nerve. For months, the blogosphere has
been alive with commentary, criticism and rebuttal. Works with such wide
appeal only come along once a decade or so. Not since Jared Diamond’s
Guns, Germs and Steel has a single book on economic history been discussed
so vigorously, by so many.



150 European Review of Economic History

The argument highlighted by Warde and pursued subsequently by other
reviewers is the most provocative one in the book – the idea that the
Industrial Revolution was all about the patient, non-violent and civilized
rich outbreeding their impulsive, impatient and poor brethren. Clark applies
this idea with remarkable consistency. For example, in his analysis of low
labour productivity in nineteenth-century India, he concludes:

differences in labor productivity must stem from differences in the quality of labor in
production across societies, differences that stem largely from the local social
environment . . . labor problems were at the root of India’s failure to industrialize under
British rule in 1657–1947 and under independent Indian governments. The socially
induced lethargy that afflicted Indian labor may have extended throughout the society. . .

In Clark’s model, norms are principally transmitted from parents to children.
A standard set of ‘bourgeois values’, such as patience leading to saving and
capital accumulation, produces economic success. The reason why these
norms only become prevalent in European societies is that the European
rich produced more surviving children than the poor. The same was not
true in Asia.

Greg Clark may have had the idea first in an unpublished seminar
presentation from 1989, as he explains in a footnote. The fact is that Galor
and Moav still made it into print first, in an influential and widely cited
Quarterly Journal of Economics article in 2002. It is part of the influential
‘unified growth’ approach that tries to offer a single theory explaining the
transition from Malthusian stagnation to self-sustaining growth. Galor and
Moav argue that an upward drift in the quality of human populations was
critical for the transition from ‘Malthus to Solow’. Greg builds on this
work, but his treatment of Galor and Moav will not earn him a reputation
for generosity towards the scholars on whose shoulders he stands. Relative
to the conceptual work of Galor and Moav, Clark mainly adds some
fragmentary and probably unrepresentative evidence (based on joint work
with Gillian Hamilton). The dataset on parts of England, 1585–1638, has a
large number of observations and is expertly analysed. Yet to base grandiose
claims about differences in reproductive success around the globe on such
a slender empirical basis is similar to writing a history of the universe based
on some scattered observations from 1930s rural Shropshire.

There are many problems with the argument, bold as it is. It is hard to
understand why Clark does not try harder to compare like with like – the
European rich with the Asian rich. Instead, he compares the European rich
with Chinese and Japanese noblemen. The nobility in England and other
parts of Europe was not particularly successful in reproducing. It is highly
doubtful that, if the data fairy granted us one wish and gave us perfectly
comparable data (on, say, reproduction rates at the same percentile of the
wealth distribution in Asia and Europe), the results would support Clarke’s
hypothesis. The Chinese rich often had concubines, in part with the aim
of producing as many sons as possible. Simple arithmetic suggests that any



Clark’s intellectual Sudoku 151

polygamous society (in which taking another wife is tied to wealth) should
have produced a much steeper fertility gradient by wealth than Europe did.

The book’s most provocative hypothesis is also its least convincing. In
part, it seems like an afterthought that allows Clarke to tie together the
disparate strands in this book, ranging from Indian cotton mills to the
incomes of English labourers. How do we know, for example, that there
must have been something wrong with the cultural norms of nineteenth-
century India? Clark’s argument works by process of elimination. It can’t
have been machinery – the spinning machines were English. Nor can it have
been management – that was English, too. Hence there is no alternative but
social norm and cultural attitudes.

This logic ignores the possibility that poor levels of nutrition could have
contributed to the low productivity of Indian workers. Nutrition was poor, as
evidenced by very low stature. Tending spinning machines requires manual
dexterity. In modern-day data, children who are deprived of protein show
markedly lower hand–eye coordination and cognitive development. The fact
that it took twice as many Indians to man the English machines as it did back
in Manchester may have something to do with impediments like this. Recent
research on early childhood development shows that imperfect nutrition may
have life-long consequences for a child’s cognitive development. Given how
short and evidently malnourished Chinese and Indian populations were, it
is surprising that this possibility is not even discussed in the book.

Similarly, recent work on appropriate technologies argues that just because
machinery is the same around the globe, we shouldn’t expect the same
level of output (Basu and Weil 1998; Acemoglu and Zilibotti 2001). This
also undercuts the logic of ‘no alternatives left’ that Clark employs to
argue the case in favour of social norms as the ultimate determinant of
poor productivity. Finally, as some reviewers have already pointed out,
there is little to suggest that transmission of behaviour from parent to
child (genetically or through education) needs to be decisive. Given how
slow and costly child-rearing is, there should be important opportunities
for alternative mechanisms to accomplish what the author attributes to
outbreeding. While the evidence marshalled by Clark is suggestive, I am
ultimately unconvinced that cultural and social norms have to be blamed for
the failure of non-European countries to develop.

What has also not received the attention it deserves is Clark’s
characterization of the history of living standards. He claims nothing less
than that living standards in 1800 in England were no better than on the
plains of Africa millennia before. There was no material progress in the
history of mankind until 200 years ago:

It is common to assume that the huge changes in the technology available to people,
and in the organizational complexity of societies, between our ancestors of the savannah
and Industrial Revolution England, must have improved material life even before
modern economic growth began. But in this chapter I show that the logic of the natural



152 European Review of Economic History

Table 1. Consumer durables in Essex pauper inventories

Item % of households owning the item
Chairs 95
Chest of drawers 32
Mahogany furniture 5
Looking-glass 27
Clocks/watches 20
Pictures/prints 10
Candlesticks 49
Poker 12
Tea-related items 46

economy implies that the material living standards of the average person in the agrarian
economies of 1800 was, if anything, worse than for our remote ancestors. [my italics]

This argument must be wrong. Clark’s point springs from the economic logic
of the pre-industrial world. Since technological advances eventually lead to
larger populations, living standards cannot improve. He explicitly exempts
the consumption of the upper crust from this view. What pins down the
equilibrium in the Malthusian world are the living standards for ordinary
citizens. Nobody doubts that for those outside the Jane Austen set, life could
be tough. Yet the claim that Englishmen and bushmen had similar living
standards is not convincingly demonstrated by any data. Table 1 gives a
summary of the kind of goods that the elderly English poor owned in the
eighteenth century.

The data in Table 1 are from pauper inventories compiled by King (1997).
The poor could apply for income support in exchange for leaving their
possessions in their will to the parish. By definition, the group of individuals
to whom the data in Table 1 refer is not rich. Yet 95 per cent of them
had chairs, half owned candlesticks and a fifth had a clock or watch.
As Landes (2000) points out, watches and clocks were so expensive that
even by the middle of the twentieth century, they were widely considered
luxury items. Their ancestors on the African savannah (with whom Clark
compares the living standards of the English poor) would undoubtedly have
marvelled at these possessions and would have thought them the pinnacle of
luxury.

A brief look at consumption patterns amongst the English poor in the
1790s adds weight to this criticism. The data come from one of the earliest
budget surveys, inspired by the plight of the farm labourers reeling from poor
harvests during the Napoleonic Wars. Even within this disadvantaged group,
there was money left for tea and coffee, for sugar and treacle. Fuel and light –
not a commodity on the savannahs – attracted 5 per cent of all spending.
Drink (almost all alcoholic) accounted for 10 per cent. The fact that half
of the Essex paupers had ‘tea-related items’ also shows how far down the



Clark’s intellectual Sudoku 153

Figure 1. Composition of working-class expenditure, 1788–92

Source: Voth (2003).

social hierarchy new forms of consumption had penetrated. If variety is the
spice of life, having access to tobacco, alcohol and stimulants such as tea
should be highly valuable. Economic historians may not do a great job at
incorporating the value of variety in measures of real wages – but this is a
case of mismeasurement, and not of stagnation.

Nor is Clark’s logic compelling when he decides to ignore the consumption
of the upper classes. Their incomes and wealth may have towered over those
of the rest of the population. Does this mean we should ignore them?
Population growth could have been determined by how the bottom 80
per cent fared – but Clark’s argument about the importance of the rich
outbreeding the poor suggests that we want to emphasize the rich even
in terms of aggregate demographic behaviour. Equally, the productivity
of everyone underpinned the palaces and churches, plays and concerts,
paintings and sculptures. The fact that productive capacity was there to
be allocated to such pursuits, rather than ending up in the pockets of
peasants, should not lead us to conclude that living standards in general
went unchanged for millennia.

Undoubtedly, high mortality rates underpinned high European real wages.
In an economy with a factor of production in fixed supply – land – population
pressure is bad for incomes, and high mortality does much to reduce this
pressure. However, the book seems at times confused about the difference
between welfare and real wages that is introduced by this. Higher death rates
may raise incomes; few would argue that they increase well-being. Other
work examining similar mechanisms, such as Alwyn Young’s (2005) paper
on the ‘Gift of the dying’ (about Aids in Africa), is much clearer about these
ambiguities.



154 European Review of Economic History

This reviewer struggled equally with the revisionist claims in the section on
fertility. Clark tells us that the ‘old hat’ view of Europeans limiting fertility
through late marriage is wrong. Fertility rates in Asia were similarly low
as a result of female infanticide, and much lower than the speed limit set
by the Hutterites. This is different from what Malthus thought of China
in particular, and comes from the work of Lee and Wang (2001). Malthus
believed famines and epidemics reduced population pressure resulting from
unrelenting reproductive behaviour. Yet the fact that fertility rates in Europe
and Asia were similar is oversold. Only towards the end of a long chapter
is the reader told that, since Europeans were much richer, they produced
fewer children at any given income level. This restores what we always knew
about European exceptionalism. Real wages on the continent (west of a
line from St Petersburg to Trieste) were high mainly because of the much
stricter fertility control as a result of the European marriage pattern. Amidst
the revisionist claims, one could have almost missed that the fact European
population stagnated during the early modern period. At the same time, it
surged in India and China.

To sum up, this book is unique. It is bold, insightful, funny and erudite.
More than any other academic work I have reviewed, it reflects its author’s
personality. A Farewell to Alms is always clever, sometimes mischievously
so. It also contains a remarkable mixture of narrative styles and rhetorical
techniques, using everything from the charts and tables one expects to
complaints about UC Davis salaries, pictures of American teens munching
Big Macs, images of Indian and English cotton workers, and a New Yorker
cartoon (the latter is enlisted to make fun of institutional economics). The
writing is elegant and concise, the literature surveyed vast. Crucially, the
book succeeds brilliantly in focusing attention on what economic historians
can contribute to the big picture – from where did the sudden wave of
economic and social change emerge that has swept all before it in the last
200 years? I am not sure that the new Big Thing in this book – differential
reproductive success – will stand the test of time. Nonetheless, Greg Clark
has provided a remarkably coherent and comprehensive narrative that ties
together his earlier work spanning a vast array of periods, themes and
countries. As intellectual Sudokus go, it represents an impressive feat.

References

ACEMOGLU, D. and ZILIBOTTI, F. (2001). Productivity differences. Quarterly
Journal of Economics 116 (2), pp. 563–606.

BASU, S. and WEIL, D. N. (1998). Appropriate technology and growth. Quarterly
Journal of Economics, 113 (4), pp. 1025–154.

GALOR, O. and MOAV, O. (2002). Natural selection and the origin of economic
growth. Quarterly Journal of Economics 117, pp. 1133–91.

KING, P. (1997). Pauper inventories and the material life of the poor in the
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. In P. King, T. Hitchcock and P.



Explaining the industrial transition 155

Sharpe (eds.), Chronicling Poverty: The Voices and Strategies of the English Poor
1640–1840. Basingstoke: Macmillan.

LANDES, D. (2000). Revolution in Time: Clocks and the Making of the Modern World.
Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press.

LEE, J. and WANG, F. (2001), One Quarter of Humanity: Malthusian Mythology and
Chinese Realities, 1700–2000. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

VOTH, H.-J. (2003). Living standards and urban disamenities. In R. Floud and P.
Johnson (eds.), Cambridge Economic History of Britain. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.

YOUNG, A. (2005). The gift of the dying: the tragedy of AIDS and the welfare of
future African generations. Quarterly Journal of Economics 120, pp. 243–66.

European Review of Economic History, 12, 155–165.
C© 2008 Cambridge University Press Printed in the United Kingdom doi:10.1017/S1361491608002207

Explaining the industrial transition:
a non-Malthusian perspective
G E O R G E G R A N T H A M
McGill University, Department of Economics, Montreal, Canada,
george.grantham@mcgill.ca

The large-scale structure of world economic history exhibits three steady
states punctuated by two phase transitions. The first transition arrived with
the domestication of plants and animals; the second with the invention of
engines capable of converting thermal to mechanical energy for applications
in mining, manufacturing, and transportation. Yet, although both transitions
led to increases in the absolute size of the economy, they affected the
standard of living differently. Whereas the Industrial Revolution resulted
in sustained growth in real per capita income for more than two centuries,
over nine millennia the Agricultural Revolution spent itself in population
growth that left per capita income insignificantly higher, and possibly lower
than the level prevailing under hunting and gathering. This pattern raises
three fundamental questions in economic history: why did the first great
technological transition produce secular stasis in living standards? Why
has the second yielded both steady growth in population and rising living
standards? What triggered the transition from the stationary agricultural
state to the progressive industrial state?

A Farewell to Alms treats these questions in a novel synthesis of classical
economics and historical sociology that explains the Industrial Transition
as the indirect consequence of the earlier agricultural state. The principle
of diminishing returns and Malthusian demographic dynamics supply