Joan Robinson: A Foreign Visitor to Keio University

The renowned economist Joan Robinson of Cambridge University, a leading figure of the Keynesian school, sadly passed away in 1983. As a female economist, she was one of only two great stars, alongside Rosa Luxemburg.

It was in the summer of 1956 that she first visited Japan and our Keio University. At that time, she gave a public lecture for the general Keio students titled "A Re-examination of Marxism." I happened to be assigned as the interpreter for that lecture, and perhaps because I was very nervous standing on the podium with her, I remember the content of the talk well. Marx predicted that revolutions would occur in countries where the capitalist economy was most mature and that socialist systems would take over. In reality, however, revolutionary states emerged in countries like Russia and China, where capitalism was still weak or hardly developed. This was because a centralized revolutionary government is far more effective than a free private enterprise system for carrying out a program to build an industrial nation and catch up with advanced countries as quickly as possible. Broadly speaking, that was the gist of her talk.

At the reception, Professor Kentaro Nomura, who had studied at Cambridge in years past, was also present, and the conversation blossomed with reminiscences. It became a very lively gathering, including a debate on the labor theory of value between Ms. Robinson and Professor Kyuzo Asobe, a scholar of Marxian economics. I still have several snapshots from that time, and looking at them now, I am struck by how youthful and radiant Ms. Robinson looked. Moreover, both Professor Nomura and Professor Asobe have already passed away, and I cannot help but feel the rapid passage of time and a sense of loneliness.

Ten years passed after that interaction on Mita Hilltop Square, and in 1966, it was my turn to spend about a year at Cambridge University, Ms. Robinson's stronghold. Since we were already acquainted, she treated me very warmly. At that time, she was an undisputed heavyweight in the British economic community and reigned almost like a queen within the Cambridge faculty. At the Faculty of Economics on Sidgwick Avenue, in typical British fashion, there were tea gatherings at 10:00 a.m. and 3:00 p.m. Faculty staff present that day would gather in the lounge for small talk. She was always the central figure in the swirl of conversation, and during faculty seminars, she always led the room with sharp questions. There was an air of untouchable dignity and elegance in her figure as she immersed herself in debate, her white hair catching the light from the window.

Ms. Robinson lived in a grand residence on Grange Road near the university. What surprised me upon arriving was finding that Ms. Carmen Blacker—who had previously studied the thought of Yukichi Fukuzawa at Keio University and has already appeared in this column—was lodging on the third floor of the Robinson house. Since I had been close friends with her since her time studying at the Juku, I visited frequently during my stay in Cambridge and was treated to her homemade ramen. I could easily go to her room by walking up the stairs from the back entrance without having to ask for guidance at the main Robinson front door. Naturally, Ms. Robinson often came up in our conversations. I remember as if it were yesterday Carmen telling me how, while looking out at the garden from her third-floor window, she saw birds coming to peck at Ms. Robinson's hair as she dozed on a chaise longue.

Ms. Robinson left behind a vast body of academic work, but its character changed significantly between her early and later periods. In the early phase, she made several important contributions to orthodox fields, as seen in "The Economics of Imperfect Competition" (1933) and "Essays in the Theory of Employment" (1947). In contrast, as she moved toward her later period, starting around "The Accumulation of Capital" (1956), her academic style gradually lost its former positivity and instead took on a markedly nihilistic character. A kind of "Decline of the West" style pessimism toward economics in general began to drift in, and at the same time, her thoroughly negative stance toward orthodox mainstream economics became blatant.

Perhaps it was the stubbornness of age, but her spirit of defiance was extraordinary. For instance, neoclassical arguments that explained interest on capital through the marginal productivity of capital based on a macro production function were targets of her scathing criticism. Consequently, if one wanted to discuss a certain point with her, it was forbidden to bring up macro concepts of capital midway through; it was impossible to advance the conversation to the essential conclusion without, so to speak, sugar-coating the pill. Once, while we were debating in her office, she even pointed to the door and told me to leave because she didn't want to talk to "one commodity people" (those who speak as if capital consists of only one type of good).

Under such circumstances, it was a natural progression that a prominent conflict arose between Ms. Robinson and the British Cambridge school of scholars who supported her, and the American Massachusetts Cambridge school of scholars who upheld the position of orthodox mainstream economics, leading to fierce debates. "Cambridge versus Cambridge" refers to the rivalry between the British Cambridge school—consisting of Robinson, Kahn, Sraffa, Kaldor, Pasinetti, and others—and the American Cambridge school, featuring Samuelson, Modigliani, Solow, and others. From the mid-1950s through the 1960s, intense sparks of controversy flew between the two over various issues, starting with the validity of the macro production function.

One issue that sparked this debate was the argument over whether so-called "reswitching" occurs. According to mainstream common sense, a drop in interest rates should lead to the adoption of production methods that use more capital. However, reswitching refers to the possibility that a drop in interest rates might instead cause a switch back to the original production method that uses more labor. The possibility of such reswitching had been pointed out by Robinson and Sraffa on the British Cambridge side from a fairly early stage. However, in the 1960s, a young scholar named Levhari on the American Cambridge side published a paper in a Harvard journal "proving" that such a reversal could never occur. This triggered a debate between the two Cambridges over its validity. Pasinetti from the British Cambridge side immediately wrote a rebuttal to Levhari's paper, pointing out that Levhari's claim was incorrect.

Levhari was indeed the loser; there were a few mathematical slips in his "proof," and there is no doubt that Pasinetti's side had the advantage. In other words, as far as this debate was concerned, the victory clearly went to the British Cambridge side. Being in Cambridge at that time, I was able to feel their triumphant mood firsthand. I can still clearly see the look of total triumph on Sraffa's face at a faculty morning tea gathering as he sat down heavily in front of me with a grin, fluttering a letter and saying, "A letter of unconditional surrender arrived this morning from your teacher, Samuelson."

The year after I returned from Cambridge, at the request of the Keio Gijuku Koizumi Memorial Fund for the Advancement of Education and Research, I sent a letter to Ms. Robinson asking her to visit the Juku again. She graciously accepted and set foot on Mita Hilltop Square once more in 1968. Her public lecture this time was titled "A Re-examination of the Theory of Value." Since the Japanese translation is included in the Koizumi Memorial Lecture Series, I will omit the summary here due to space constraints.

Perhaps because it was her second stay in Japan, she was completely relaxed at her accommodation in the New Otani. She was energetic enough to order a second gin and tonic while talking with me, even though I am not much of a drinker. It was also during this visit that she spent a day hiking to the summit of Mount Kintoki in Hakone. Also, perhaps thanks to Carmen's excellent tutelage, her devotion to Japanese culture was immense; I even found myself listening to her lecture on the Noh play "Nodate." According to her, Kabuki was "too bloody," so she preferred the subtle, profound movements of Noh.

As those days passed, her stay eventually drew to a close, and the day came to say goodbye at Haneda Airport. A few days later, a letter posted from Singapore arrived. In addition to thanking me for the hospitality during her stay, it contained the words: "Raise the flag of Sraffa on the hill of Mita."