entrepreneurship

TIME: What If America’s Best Ideas Were Behind It?

This article originally appeared in Time

This is a “what if” interview from the World Economic Forum’s Risk Response Network. To view the rest of the series, click here.

As the U.S. stands at the brink of the fiscal cliff, the narratives of decline are legion. The World Economic Forum, in collaboration with TIME, spoke with Tyler Cowen, a professor of economics at George Mason University and author of The Great Stagnation, on the economic history underlying the current dysfunction. He warns that innovation in the U.S. has reached a plateau and a long period of stagnation awaits.

What makes you think America’s golden age of innovation is in the past?

I was born in 1962. When you think back to the world of my childhood, in the Sixties and Seventies, it’s not that different from the world of today, in many ways. The experience of driving a car or flying a plane hasn’t changed much. A person from that time would be able to use a modern kitchen without thinking twice. Computers represent a big difference in our daily lives, but that’s just one dynamic sector. In contrast, if you think back to the period from 1900 to 1950, everything changed, in the United States as in Western Europe: people moved off the farms, people got electricity, people got running water, people got antibiotics, people got automobiles, planes started flying, radios and televisions appeared in ordinary homes. There were huge advances in just about every sector, and we’re not keeping up with that now. We had this unprecedented burst of progress and it’s really hard to have a comparably impressive second act.

How has this played out in the economy?

Well, since the recession ended in 2009, median income has actually gone down by about five to six per cent, which is not a good sign. Over the longer term, median income now is about where it was in the late Nineties, so that’s more than a lost decade in terms of progress in living standards. Interestingly, there’s a gender split. Median male wages were actually higher in the Sixties than today, which is stunning, while women have reaped the benefits of more education. Although there have clearly been gains, overall it’s far, far slower progress than anyone expected.

Do you expect more stagnation ahead?

If you just look at the last quarter as an example, the U.S. had just two per cent GDP growth, with a huge chunk of that coming from the Defence Department, which does not represent an improvement in how people live. The recession is supposed to be over. We have slow growth – and we’re still the envy of the developed world. We’re already mired in stagnation. So I think what it will look like say 10 to 15 years down the road is that the United States will be in a fiscal position similar to where Italy is today. Italy has not had rapid economic growth for quite some time. I don’t think the U.S. will ever look like Greece or Spain, but if you spend a lot and accumulate debt and don’t have much growth, things become very dire. At some point people start wondering if you can actually pull off the mix of spending cuts and tax increases which you will need.

Why has innovation stagnated?

There’s a bunch of different reasons, but the most fundamental is that there are some plateaus beyond which further innovation is hard. So say you invent the car and then you give people cars. It’s an awesome advance. Then you spend 60 years improving cars, giving them more comfortable seats, better sound systems and side air bags, that’s all great, but it just doesn’t match up to developing cars. So, you might think that in a much longer term future, we’ll have flying cars or teleporters, and maybe we will, but that’s not in the next 10 years.

Weren’t we supposed to have flying cars by now? What happened to the utopian predictions of the Sixties?

I think back then people overestimated the extent to which we would be able to get our hands on ever cheaper and cheaper energy. Fossil fuels powered the huge advances of the first half of the twentieth century, but the same won’t be said of the twenty first century. Also, I think improving transportation is just harder than people realise. Flying cars do actually exist, but they are expensive and dangerous. Driverless cars are probably the next big advance, and those will be great, but again you are talking 20 years out from now.

Another reason for stagnation is that our educational system isn’t improving at a very rapid pace anymore. So if you look back to 1900, when only six per cent of the US population graduated from high school, you could get huge gains by just sending more smart, motivated kids to school. Now the graduation rate is in the high sixties in percentage terms. You could make sure those students are getting a better education, or you could get better at reaching out to that remaining 30% or so, but all of that is much harder to do and I would say that institutionally, we’ve not always made the best decisions compared to some other countries.

If there’s no follow-up to the great burst of innovation, what will America look like in the future?

Well, I think the most likely scenario is that computers and the internet and smart phones will continue to form a dynamic sector. Artificial intelligence will improve. You’ll have a subset of the population who are very good at using those things, and very good at working with them. It won’t be just a small handful of people — we’ll be looking at maybe ten or 20% of the population. They will become much, much wealthier. For everyone else, wages will be stagnant in real terms, with a slight decline if globalization intensifies.

Even though it’s already brought us real gains, computing is still in its infancy, I’d say. The 21st century will come down to the question: is the computer as important as fossil fuels were? The answer depends on for whom. The fossil fuel boom benefitted almost everyone, but computers may not quite work out that way.

Who will be worst off in a stagnant America?

The people who do jobs where they’re basically competing against computers or against artificial intelligence. People with good technical skills, or just people who are really good managers or marketers, will do phenomenally well.

How will this play out on the world stage?

The other developed nations, like Japan and the countries of Western Europe, will follow broadly similar patterns. In terms of America’s influence, that’s been diminishing for a while, but you have to bear in mind that other countries have been diminishing too. If you look at the difference in clout between the U.S.S.R. to Russia, that’s taken a bigger fall. China, meanwhile, is an open question. It could get a lot stronger, but it could actually get weaker too. I don’t think there’s any simple narrative.

For the last 40 years or more, the Western world hasn’t actually changed that much. Now, all of a sudden, it’s starting to change more rapidly. I think people will be surprised by just how many institutions or even countries can get left behind. That’s part of the underlying tale of the Eurozone crisis. Everyone is focused on the bond rates and the currency, overlooking the notion that the world is totally changing, and if some countries aren’t right on it, it’s going to be pretty dire for them.

What can be done to reinvigorate innovation?

We should pay greater heed to science, both in terms of its social standing, but also in terms of public policy. We should get much more serious about education. While the government does need to provide better schools, ultimately just spending more money won’t do it: it has to be a cultural shift. Some modified model of the Asian style of parenting needs to spread to more families.

On the business side, there’s too much regulation and litigation, which stifles innovation. In my view there are two main areas that we don’t regulate nearly enough: finance and climate change. In most other areas though, regulations have become obstacles, and I would get rid of 70 to 80% of them.

Is there any silver lining to a stagnant future?

Well, I sometimes say I am a wage and revenue pessimist, but a happiness optimist. I think people will adjust in a lot of ways and in fact will, on average, be happier than they are today. Looking at the US, in terms of issues like diversity and social tolerance, I think it’s a much better country than it was a few decades ago. People with stagnant wages move and breathe life into new areas. Although you can’t avoid the reality on the revenue side – people need to pay bills, governments need to pay off their debts – this isn’t just some tale of unrelenting misery.

 

IEEE Spectrum: Unappreciated Innovations

This article originally appeared in IEEE Spectrum

Tyler Cowen, an economist at George Mason University, has posed a fascinating question on his blog: “What is the most underrated innovation of the last 100 years?”

Cowen suggests four candidates: Alan Turing’s insights into computation; the chemical fixation of nitrogen from the air for use in fertilizer; what he loosely calls  “various developments in electrical engineering, including better transformers;” and more recently, Amazon’s warehousing and shipping practices, which Cowen thinks will mean the “death of much of retail.”

You may wonder at transformers—I sure did—what great developments have there been since the year 1912? But he’s absolutely right that electrical engineering is rife with big-but-obscure developments, and that nitrogen fixation doesn’t get nearly enough respect. How many reasonably educated people realize that half the nitrogen in their bodies was extracted from the air by means of the Haber process?

Commenters on the blog have suggested plastics, the Pill, air conditioning, shipping containers and the flush toilet. I beg to differ on the last item: it’s rather more than 100 years old. At the ruins of the royal palace at Knossos, in Crete, I once saw a flushable toilet dating back some 3800 years (and to my great disappointment, I was not allowed to pose on it for a snapshot). Wikipedia notes still older examples in India—and, interestingly, in one of Queen Elizabeth I’s palaces. She apparently refused to use it because it made too much noise.

I thought it would be easy to add to the list, but then I did some research and discovered just how many seemingly modern inventions actually predate 1912. Spread-spectrum radio transmissions? Described in a German book in 1907. Multiplexing? Developed by Edison in the 1870s. Parallel computing? Outlined in an 1842 description of Charles Babbages’ plan for an Analytic Engine.

Here, then, are my contributions: the doping of semiconductors; the magnetron (the heart of radar sets and microwave ovens); kitty litter, which turned cats into the Number One pet; and photo retouching. All these things changed our world—and by more than most people admit.


The Economics of For-Profit Higher Education

Tyler Cowen and Sam Papenfuss released this paper on for-profit education on July 23, 2009. This paper has been reformatted for stylistic reasons and some content, including footnotes, has been removed. Please download the PDF to read the paper as it originally appeared.

Abstract

We consider why some educational institutions choose for-profit corporate status. For-profit educational institutions are prominent where the content of instruction is well-defined, high quality research is of little complementary value, students use education for learning rather than certification, and there are independent means of certifying student quality, such as vocational tests. We consider the explanatory power of some hypotheses that might explain these facts, involving government subsidies, donations to non-profits, agency problems, and the economics of producing reputation.

I. Introduction

For-profit higher education has grown rapidly in the United States over the last twenty years. Examples include vocational schools, technical training, in-house corporate education, the DeVry Institute, Phoenix University, and other new for-profit colleges. In addition, a number of developing countries, most prominently the Philippines, have experimented with for-profit higher education in the past. Adam Smith, writing in 1776, associated for-profit education with high levels of instructional quality, and claimed that endowed, nonprofit education resulted in shirking and poor teaching.

In spite of market experience, for-profit higher education has received little direct attention from economists. The literature treats the non-profit status of higher education as the state of affairs to be explained. We view this presupposition as question-begging and focus on what determines the distribution of for-profits and non-profits in higher education. Unlike many non-profits, for-profits do not offer high-reputation liberal arts education but instead specialize in teaching well-defined vocational skills.

Section II of the paper presents some examples of for-profit higher education and outlines their market niches. Section III consider some reasons why corporate status matters and considers some explanations of the patterns in the data, focusing on the relative role of subsidies, donations, agency problems, and the nature of reputation as a public good. We will see that all four factors play some role but none can explain all of the data or provide a fully satisfactory theoretical account.

Winston (1999) provides a survey of issues relevant to the non-profit status of many colleges and universities; see also Ruch (2001), Morey (2004), and Breneman, Pusser, and Turner (2007). In economic terms non-profits are institutions bound by a non-distribution constraint for their profits. Non-profits do not have owners with rights to residual income, and there are no shares which provide for both control and claims to profits. Net revenue must remain in the corporation, although some revenue will be distributed implicitly in the form of perks to managers, board members, and employees. As with for-profits, however, non-profits must cover the costs of their operations if they are to survive and many in fact earn very high returns. Pauly (1987) provides a dissenting perspective which minimizes the practical differences between for-profit and non-profit institutions. With regard to state and private schools, we treat the difference as one of degree, rather than kind. We view state schools as run as nonprofits, but having state-appointed officials on their boards. It is not even the case that state schools necessarily receive more subsidies than their “private” counterparts; governmental subsidies provide significant portions of the budgets of schools such as Johns Hopkins and MIT.

II. For-profit education

Technical and vocational training

For-profit technical training is common for business courses, barber and beauty schools, nursing programs, vocational and technical institutes, and correspondence courses (Lynch 1992, p.302). Berlitz International offers for-profit instruction around the world in a wide variety of foreign languages. Although Berlitz offers translation services and publishes guidebooks, eighty percent of their revenue comes from language training, through approximately five million lessons a year. Other work-related skills, such as computer programming and specific software classes, are taught frequently on a for-profit basis.

In-house corporate education

Other forms of higher education are provided within corporations. On-the-job training is hard to quantify since much of it is informal learning-by-doing or integrated into work routines. Nonetheless a survey by Training magazine estimated that more than 47 million workers in the United States received formal corporate training in 1994, at a direct expense of $50 billion. Informal training probably runs several times this amount (Hood 1996, p.68). Lynch (1994, p.12) estimates corporate training expenditures at 1.8 percent of the total wage bill in the United States.

One estimate found more than 1,600 corporate “colleges” in the United States. At “Hamburger University,” run in Illinois by McDonald’s corporation, trainees learn how to run a McDonald’s franchise, which includes learning how to cook hamburgers and french fries, how to enforce standards of cleanliness, and how to attract customers. Hamburger University offers a tailor-made education in the managerial skills needed for running a fast food franchise. The school trains 7,000 individuals a year. Ford, Disney, Motorola, and Dana Corporation run institutions of a similar nature.

Apprenticeships at for-profit corporations provide an indirect means of purchasing training in some skill or vocation. The apprentice typically accepts lower wages in return for a package which combines a job and training. Apprenticeships are rare in the United States but they are much more common in Europe, especially Germany, which has had measured rates of apprenticeship of over sixty percent (Blanchflower and Lynch 1994, p.240, Soskice 1994, p.26). Most of these apprenticeships are with for-profit companies rather than with non-profit institutions.

For-profit higher education in the United States

The DeVry Institute is the most prominent for-profit institution in United States higher education. DeVry is a for-profit, publicly traded company which dates from the 1970s and went public in 1991. The company is traded on the New York Stock Exchange and has private shareholders and other characteristics of a private corporation. DeVry receives no public funds, and student tuition fees account for approximately ninety percent of revenues which totaled over $1 Billion in 2008.

Approximately 68,000 individuals are taking DeVry programs at numerous campuses in the United States and Canada. Full-time undergraduate students pay from $56,000 to 59,000 for a four-year Bachelor’s degree. The DeVry institute offers a no-frills education oriented towards specific technical skills with high labor market returns. The school concentrates in fields such as electronics engineering, computer science, business, accounting, and telecommunications. A related branch of the school, the Keller Graduate School of Management, is currently serving several thousand students seeking MBAs. Numerous other for-profit institutions of higher education operate in the United States, including Colorado Technical College, Laboratory Institute of Merchandising (New York), School of Visual Arts (New York), Bassist College (Oregon), Huron University (South Dakota), and Strayer College (Northern Virginia), all of which are currently accredited. The largest is Phoenix University, which now has about 300,000 students.

For-profit education in the Philippines

For-profit higher education started in the Philippines in the early part of this century and blossomed after the Second World War. Later in the 1980s, the Marcos regime of martial law imposed restrictions and unfavorable taxes on proprietary educational institutions; until that time, for-profit colleges and universities competed on a nearly level playing field. We focus on the earlier period – the 1960s and 1970s – when for-profits competed against non-profits with few legal hindrances.

The private sector has traditionally covered most of Filipino higher education, often more than ninety percent (Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.162-4). In 1969 the Philippines had 36 private universities and 559 private colleges, serving 573,094 students at the graduate and undergraduate levels. 274 or 49.37 percent of these institutions were run as for-profit corporations, 281 or 50.63 percent, were run as non-profits, and another forty could not be classified due to limitations in the data (Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.71-2). The for-profits covered roughly three-fifths of all students receiving higher education in the Philippines (Miao 1971, p.207). Many of the for-profit colleges have been publicly held corporations traded on the Manila Stock Exchange (Geiger 1986, p.58). One observer noted: “The Filipino passion for education has become a lucrative market and private education is dominated by schools, colleges and universities which operate as profit-making stock corporations and which actually declare dividends on their stock. These include the largest universities in the country.”

The Philippines is not the only developing country to have relied upon for-profit higher education. We also find significant numbers of for-profit institutions in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Turkey, at various points in time.

Overall patterns in the data

Two primary features characterize the observed educational for-profits. First, for-profits tend to specialize in highly practical or vocational forms of training. For-profits are especially prominent in areas where student performance can be measured by a relatively objective, standardized test. Nonprofits, in contrast, have a stronger presence in the liberal arts, although they are by no means restricted to that arena.

Second, for-profits offer products of lower academic reputation, relative to non-profits. Educational for-profits tend to sell their services at a relatively low price to students who otherwise would not seek higher education or who are marginal applicants. Students who wish to become automobile mechanics or beauticians are more likely to patronize for-profits, as are older students who wish to learn some specific skill, such as accounting or computer programming.

The relevant distinctions between for-profits and non-profits depend on which part of the non-profit sector we examine. The difference is most marked when we examine research institutions of high academic reputation, such as Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. These schools serve the students with the strongest academic records and hire faculty with the strongest research performance. The difference is less marked when we compare for-profits to community colleges or mid-level regional teaching schools. The community colleges, for instance, resemble for-profits by having relatively loose admissions standards. Nonetheless even in these cases the for-profits are more heavily specialized in vocational education and place less emphasis on the liberal arts. Non-profit business and law schools offer a kind of vocational training, and in that sense they resemble for-profits; non-profit business schools of low academic reputation, of all parts of the non-profit sector, are perhaps closest to for-profits in their orientation. Few if any non-profits, however, offer vocational training for barbers and beauticians, to name just a two areas of for-profit specialization.

A comparison of for-profit and non-profit institutions in the Philippines bears out many of the differences noted above. Filipino for-profits tend to charge lower fees, specialize in education of lower academic reputation, spend less on capital equipment, and serve students who plan on pursuing vocational careers or taking a standardized vocational test upon graduation.
We observe similar tendencies in the DeVry Institutes in the United States, but the large number of Filipino for-profits, especially if we look back in time a bit, allows for a more systematic comparison.

Unlike Filipino non-profits, the for-profits typically did not have entrance examinations, and accepted any student who has completed a secondary education and can pay the relevant fees (Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.163-4). From a survey of Manila institutions, the for-profit institution had an average student to fulltime faculty ratio of 27:1, whereas the non-profit religious institutions had an average ratio of 19:1 (Miao 1971, pp.71-2). For-profit institutions tend to invest in classrooms to accommodate large enrollments, rather than investing in library facilities, book holdings, or laboratory facilities. Furthermore, Filipino for-profit institutions tend to limit their class offerings to low-cost, labor-intensive classes, such as teacher education and commerce (Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.322, 342, 348, 587). As of 1970, nonsectarian institutions (typically for- profits) spent four percent of their total budget on sites, equipment, and facilities, whereas sectarian institutions (typically non-profits) spent a much higher 12.41 percent (Isidro and Ramos 1973, p.157). As of 1971, for-profits held an average of 2.58 books per student, whereas non-profits held an average of 8.9 books per student (Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.347-8).

Filipino for-profits also produce a different kind of education. Students from for-profit institutions tend to take standardized vocational exams in much greater number, although they pass them at a lower rate. These facts reflect both the vocational emphasis of for-profits as well as the lower academic reputation of their students. Based on a sample of institutions from the Manila area (from 1963 and 1968), students from nonprofit religious institutions pass these standardized tests at an average rate of 38 percent, whereas students from for-profit institutions pass the same tests at a lower rate of 18 percent. For-profits, however, produce a much greater number of students taking the tests, and therefore pass a much greater number of students through the tests. Students at for-profits are approximately ten times more likely to take the tests. Adjusting for the lower pass rate from for-profits, the for-profits are putting about five times the number of students through the tests as the non-profits, even though for-profits educated no more than three-fifths of all Filipino students at the time (Miao 1971, p. 207).

American experience with the DeVry Institute supports this characterization of for-profit education. DeVry maintains a tough curriculum which focuses on practical skills and vocational training. The school has a good record of getting jobs for its students, but it does not pursue academic prestige, as defined by the standards of research universities. Few joint products are provided with the education. DeVry does not have campuses in the traditional sense, but rather holds its classes in office buildings. The school funds only those sports teams and clubs that are directly related to job placement, and they do not encourage their faculty to do research or publish; many faculty do not even have graduate degrees. Faculty work year round and have very high teaching loads (Glass 1995, Spencer 1995).

III. Why does corporate status matter?
We can think of a few relevant hypotheses as to why corporate status might matter for an education institution; we will survey each in turn.

Subsidies

Subsidies discourage many institutions from achieving for-profit status. In the United States non-profits are exempt from corporate and property taxation. Donations to non-profit organizations are tax deductible but donations to for-profits are not. Many non-profits have the ability to issue tax-exempt bonds or enjoy lower postage rates. In addition, for-profit educational institutions often have faced legal or collusive barriers from governments or from other educators. For-profit education in the Philippines declined when the Marcos regime of martial law instituted unfavorable regulatory and tax treatment. In the contemporary United States, for- profit institutions of higher education have difficulty receiving accreditation; prevailing accreditation bodies are controlled by educators who believe in non-profit education.

The evidence does suggest that subsidies matter. In the Philippines, where educational for-profits have been most prominent, for-profit colleges and universities paid a relatively- favorable income tax rate of 10%, at least prior to Marcos’s crackdown. The 10% rate compared favorably to other corporate income tax rates, which typically ran from 25% to 35% (Miao 1971, p.211, Zwaenepoel 1975, pp.311-2). The relatively equal tax treatment of for-profit and non- profit educational institutions accounted for some of the prominence of for-profits in the Philippines. For-profits also had no special difficulty receiving accreditation in the Philippines.

Nonetheless subsidies are not the only reason why many educational institutions choose non-profit status. Subsidies matter most for those segments of the non-profit market that are closest to for-profits in some of their operations, such as local community colleges or nonprofit business schools of low academic reputation. Subsidies have increased the size and scope of non-profit institutions in these areas. Subsidies, however, are less relevant for explaining the end of the market with high academic reputation, such as Harvard University or Middlebury College, a high quality teaching school. The fundamental question remains why educational for-profits, without subsidies, compete successfully with the local community college but not with Harvard or Middlebury. In other words, the subsidies hypothesis does not explain the cross-sectional variation in the data.

Furthermore, non-profit educational institutions predated the existence of personal and corporate income taxes and predated governmental subsidies to the non-profit form. Lock-in effects and path dependence do not suffice to explain the persistence of the non-profit form. Non-profit universities have succeeded in a wide variety of countries and cultures, and it appears that the form is too robust to be explained by history alone. Furthermore, non-profits can switch to for-profit status if the latter is more efficient; many hospitals have made this change in recent times. The switch can go in the opposite direction as well. American medical schools were once largely for-profit, but they switched to non-profit status in the late nineteenth century (Rothstein 1972, 1987).

Donations

The possibility of receiving donations encourages many institutions to choose the non- profit form (Hansmann 1980, 1987, 1990, Fama and Jensen 1983b). In the United States, donations represent approximately fourteen percent of revenues for non-profit institutions of higher education (Okten and Weisbrod, 2000, p.262). Harvard University has a multi-billion dollar endowment and is one of America’s largest institutional investors.

While we can imagine a for-profit that receives donations, most donors would be reluctant to give to an institution whose mission is to enrich the shareholders. The possibility of donations encourages non-profit status, since many colleges and universities have shown they are effective in fundraising on a large scale. Individuals give money to maintain an ongoing connection as alumni, to achieve status in the philanthropic community or in their local country club, or to buy “packaged” goods, such as admission for their children, good seats at college football games, contact with renowned faculty, invitations to exclusive parties, and so on.

Like subsidies, donations play a clear role but do not tell the entire story. Many non- profit educational institutions receive few donations and have little or no endowment. In the United States many higher educational institutions fund themselves primarily through tuition. In other countries, such as Brazil, Japan, and Chile we find considerable numbers of private educational non-profits, even though donations are not usually an important source of funds. Donations help explain the non-profit status of Harvard and Yale, but they do not account for many other non-profit educational institutions.

In the Philippines, when for-profits have enjoyed a nearly level playing field, non-profits nonetheless held nearly half of the market, despite receiving virtually no donations. Although most educational non-profits are run by the Catholic Church, tuition remains their primary source of revenue. Of the private Catholic universities in the Philippines (most of the non-profits are sectarian and Catholic), only two had endowments at all. Ateneo de Manila University had an endowment of $600,000, and the University of San Carlos had an even smaller endowment of $92,000 (Zwaenepoel 1975, p.146). Five private institutions did indicate additional private sources of income, but these were aimed at scholarship grants rather than for operating expenses. Philanthropy towards universities is almost unknown in the Philippines (Respose 1971, pp.107- 8). Even for the church-related non-profit institutions of higher education, gifts and donations account for only 3.08 percent of total income (Isidro and Ramos 1973, p.149).

Agency problems

For-profit and non-profit educators exhibit different advantages at solving agency problems. For-profits appear to be relatively efficient at monitoring the quantity of teaching when the subject matter is well-defined. Non-profits, in contrast, appear to be relatively efficient at monitoring the quality of research.

Faculty governance may play a central role in this distinction. For-profit institutions are controlled by their shareholders. The issue of control is more complex in non-profits, but faculty play a central role in steering institutional priorities, making hiring decisions, and setting pay raises. The faculty have veto power over many proposed changes in non-profits, but not typically in educational for-profits.

Non-profit faculty governance militates against high teaching loads. Within non-profit schools, the faculty pressure the administration to make overall teaching loads low rather than high. The non-profit form therefore is inefficient when a high teaching load is called for. When the content of teaching is relatively well-defined, uncontroversial, and requires little independent thought, it makes sense to work the faculty relatively hard as defined by the preferences of administration.

Most educational for-profits have teaching loads well in excess of what even non-profit teaching colleges demand. For-profits keep their instructors on a tight rein and extract maximum teaching effort from them, while discouraging research. Part-time instruction is common and many of the instructors are not expected to invest in the university. In essence, the for-profit is specializing in areas where the relevant output is easily defined and measured, such as teaching hours. A residual claimant needs no particular expertise to monitor this variable, nor is faculty governance required. The traditional efficiencies of for-profit firms dominate in these cases.

Similarly, for-profits appear more prevalent when the content of instruction is well- defined and uncontroversial. As discussed above, most for-profits specialize in vocational training, rather than the liberal arts. The body of knowledge for most vocational skills is concrete and well-defined, rather than abstract or controversial. Schools for auto mechanics, beauticians, and computer programmers are examples here. The for-profit has a smaller advantage, or perhaps no advantage at all, in determining what schools of philosophy should be taught, or in deciding whether students should read Dickens or Garcia Marquez. In these cases, the other advantages of non-profit institutions, discussed throughout the paper, become relatively more important and the for-profit form is less likely.

For-profits do not offer their faculty the teaching discretion that is given to Harvard philosophers or faculty at nonprofit teaching institutions of high academic reputations. When the institution specializes in a well-defined instructional product, academic freedom involves costs but no corresponding benefits. Driving schools do not give academic freedom to their instructors behind the wheel, but instead require that they teach skills of braking, signaling, merging, parking, observing traffic signals, and so on.

Note that the relevant agency problem involves the internal enforcement of quality standards, not a demonstration of quality to the outside world. Outside parties arguably can observe the quality of teaching for an institution as a whole. The U.S. News & World Report rankings, for instance, offer publicly available assessments of university quality. To the extent these rankings are controversial, part of the problem is the intrinsic difficulty of ranking in the area, rather than the poor information of outsiders. In any case, the availability of aggregate rankings does not alleviate the internal agency problem. Inside managers must be able to spur faculty and other participants in joint production to pursue quality. If the for-profit has no comparative advantage at this task, the corporate form is more likely to be non-profit.

McCormick and Meiners (1988) make the related argument that the non-profit form is superior for monitoring faculty research. They claim that the research outputs of university faculty often are difficult for outsiders or non-specialists to monitor or measure. Most university research can be evaluated only by peers, colleagues, and other faculty. Again, outside parties can observe the overall research quality of an institution (we all know that Yale faculty are better than faculty at Podunk U.), but the governance structure must support effective internal monitoring to produce the proper ex ante incentives for individual faculty.

According to the McCormick-Meiners argument, faculty governance serves this end. Faculty and administrators receive a large share of their perks and marketability from the reputation of their institution in the external academic marketplace. Both departments and promotion and tenure committees enforce relatively high standards, based ultimately on peer review in the form of journal articles and outside letters of recommendation. Tenured faculty, by insisting on high standards for their tenured peers, raise the reputational value of the franchise they hold. University faculty usually oppose policies that will lower the academic reputation of the university, even when net university revenues would increase.

Agency problems do explain some of the differences between for-profit and non-profit institutions, but the hypothesis is incomplete. Most importantly, the hypothesis takes the current governance differences between for-profits and non-profits as given. It is true that faculty governance plays an important role in most non-profits today. But it is possible to imagine non- profit institutions of higher education without faculty governance, or with faculty governance of a different kind. Charities, for instance, are non-profits, but they are not typically governed by their employees. If faculty governance prevents non-profits from requiring high teaching loads, why do we not observe the evolution of some non-profits without faculty governance? Such hypothetical non-profits might prove effective competitors with for-profits in areas where teaching loads should be high. The very existence of for-profits implies that faculty governance cannot have a decisive efficiency value in all cases.

Similarly, when faculty governance is desirable, why do not for-profits try to replicate those incentives by giving faculty a greater voice in institutional management? Commercial for- profit corporations use employee governance in a variety of manners, including company unions or simply heeding employee feedback for higher-level decisions.

The agency problems hypothesis requires some broader account of the differences between for- and non-profits, and a treatment of which organizational differences are flexible at the margin and which are immutable. The agency hypothesis has micro-foundations only if faculty governance, and its concomitant benefits, can somehow be demonstrated as less costly in non-profits than in for-profits. While this supposition accords with the evidence, we do not yet have a satisfactory theoretical account of why it might be true.

The agency hypothesis also explains only part of the cross-sectional variation between for- and non-profits. It explains why research-oriented liberal arts institutions of high academic reputation do not covet for-profit status. It is less effective in explaining why community colleges, which have high teaching loads and do not subsidize research, choose non-profit status and to answer that question we probably must look to the legal status of community colleges as government-supported entities. Like many of the other hypotheses considered, it explains some of the corners of the distribution rather than the distribution of institutions in the middle of the spectrum.

Reputation as a public good

When reputation is a public good, non-profit institutions may produce that public good with greater effectiveness. Consider Halls of Fame and scientific prizes. The Nobel Prize, like university attendance, provides quality certification. The Nobel Prize is given out by a non- profit committee, rather than being sold to the highest bidder by a for-profit. A for-profit scientific prize would yield less prestige than the Nobel Prize; in dollar terms, Bill Gates may value a Nobel Prize more than did John Hicks. We can imagine that a profit-maximizing version of the Nobel Prize would award it to Samuelson and Arrow, to build up initial prestige, and then sell it to Gates for a high return. The for-profit Nobel Prize would care only about its reputation with its paying customers, not about its reputation with the outside world per se. We therefore find that the most prestigious prizes tend to be awarded by non-profit institutions.

An analogous mechanism may contribute to the non-profit status of colleges and universities of high academic reputation. Faculty governance implies that for-profits and non- profits place different relative weight on reputation and profits. The for-profit selects students and faculty on the basis of how easily their reputational benefits can be captured by shareholders, whereas the non-profit places greater weight on the reputational benefits that are kept by faculty. The for-profit pursues “reputation as valued by students in dollar terms” and the nonprofit pursues “reputation with the external world,” or “reputation as a public good.” In the resulting equilibrium, for-profits achieve lower status.

For-profits pursue only those reputational benefits that they can charge for and convert into profit. They seek to capture as much of the reputational surplus of students and faculty as possible, even if the total reputation of the institution falls. A for-profit version of Harvard, if we can temporarily imagine such a counterfactual, would look at how much potential students and faculty would pay to reap the private reputational benefits of being at Harvard. Non-profits seek out the students and faculty who reflect the greatest reputation back on the university, even if those same individuals are not willing to pay much for their private reputational benefits.

Not all forms of career success – and thus reputational payback to the university – translate into high incomes and high student demands for university services. Training great moral leaders, politicians, and philosophers, for instance, enhances a school’s reputation, but these individuals do not necessarily have a high willingness to pay for university slots, given their relatively low lifetime incomes. Some individuals seek to become Supreme Court Justices, while others shoot for more lucrative positions as firm partner. The non-profit, which is ruled by reputation-conscious faculty, will pursue academic status as an end in itself.

Note that faculty governance need not account directly for the entire reputational difference between for-profits and nonprofits. Reputation often possesses increasing returns to scale or “snowball” properties. Once a given set of institutions has a reputational advantage over others, that advantage may be self-reinforcing. Top faculty and students will be attracted to the institutions with highest reputation, which will in turn support their reputations even further. Consistent with this mechanism, the list of top universities has changed little over decades, whereas there has been considerable turnover in the largest or most profitable for-profit corporations.

The superior reputations of non-profits will feed back into their broader admissions and fundraising strategies. Non-profits can offer potential status and status-related goods to their donors, which strengthens their comparative advantage in raising donations. Furthermore, the non-profits of highest academic quality will adopt exclusive admissions standards but then “sell” admission to the children of the wealthy on a case-by-case basis. Some non-profits will become increasingly driven by the pursuit of reputation and status, whereas the for-profit will drop out of these market segments, which is precisely what we observe.

The hypothesis therefore predicts a segmented market for higher education. Students who seek the highest levels of certification and reputation will attend non-profit institutions, which are run by faculty and use their prestige to raise donations. Students whose quality can be certified by an outside vocational exam do not need the non-profit reputational endorsement. They will pursue the more efficient instruction offered by for-profits.

This hypothesis does not explain why non-profit local community colleges, and other non-profits with indiscriminate admissions standards, can compete with for-profits. These institutions appear to offer little prestige or certification. Nonetheless we do observe some confirming patterns of evidence in other areas. Education for corporate purposes is conducted on a for-profit basis, rather than by non-profit contractors or subsidiaries. If a multinational wishes to instruct its employees in another language, the hypothesis predicts that it will send them to Berlitz. They seek efficiency of instruction and do not need external certification. Similarly, we expect that a small business owner who needed to learn Japanese would prefer Berlitz as well. In the U.S., one sampling from the 1990s found that sixty percent of Berlitz students are employed full or part time and only ten percent were attending colleges or universities. Seventy percent of Berlitz students cited work requirements or relocation as a reason for studying a foreign language.

In addition, older individuals are more likely to purchase for-profit education, whereas the reputation-conscious young will prefer to attend non-profits. Older individuals already have established reputations through their vita (for better or worse), and cannot produce reputation so easily through university attendance. Given their more advanced age, older individuals also face lower benefits from producing reputation. We therefore expect the ambitious young to learn languages, and other skills, in non-profits such as colleges and universities. The old, in contrast, will learn languages by going to Berlitz.

Again, this prediction corresponds to the facts. At least half of all Berlitz students are over the age of thirty (the actual percentage may be higher, as roughly twenty percent of Berlitz students did not give their age). Data from Strayer College, a for-profit in northern Virginia, illustrates a similar pattern. Roughly sixty percent of Strayer students are over the age of thirty, with almost twenty percent over the age of forty. In contrast the vast majority of students are below the age of twenty-two in most non-profit universities and colleges of high academic reputation.

Some predictions of the reputation hypothesis, however, appear to be falsified. Specifically, the hypothesis predicts that for-profits will proliferate in sectors where income and status are closely linked. Unlike in philosophy and many of the liberal arts, most of the high- status businessmen are the richest businessmen. When money and status coincide, pursuit of for- profit goals should maximize institutional status as well. Yet the top business schools and MBA programs are at non-profit universities, not at for-profits.

It is true that MBA programs are run more like for-profit institutions than are most other non-profit educational programs. In this sense the prediction is partially confirmed. Non-profit business schools demand good teaching, they collect tuition rather than offering scholarships, and historically they have placed less stress on faculty research (although this has changed in the last fifteen years). The same cannot be said for nonprofit graduate training in philosophy. Nonetheless the ability of non-profit business schools to take on certain for-profit characteristics again raises deeper difficulties with any explanation of corporate status. A complete account of for-profit education cannot take observed differences between non- and for-profits for granted, but rather must derive the observed inflexibilities of these forms from more primitive assumptions. We still do not have a full account of why non- and for-profit institutions cannot easily “morph into each other” when circumstances dictate, or for particular segments of their market.

IV. Concluding remarks

We have examined the cross-sectional distribution of for-profit and non-profit institutions of higher education. A complex mix of factors, including subsidies, donations, agency problems, and the production of reputation, explain some of the observed patterns in the data. Unlike earlier approaches, which focus solely on the non-profit side of the ledger, we have stressed the need to explain the observed differences across corporate forms and governance structures. At the same time, however, we have found that no single explanation covers all of the ground or can respond to all objections. In that regard significant puzzles remain outstanding.

In terms of practical implications, the analysis suggests limits to the future of for-profit higher education. Non-profit institutions appear to have basic advantages in their ability to reap subsidies, raise donations, produce high quality research, generate academic status, and certify students and faculty in non-vocational areas. For-profit institutions, although they have grown in recent years, do not show serious signs of breaching these barriers.

The properties of the current equilibrium do not always yield accurate predictions about what would result from more dramatic changes in institutions. Nonetheless it is our belief that many forms of higher education are non-profit or not-for-profit for good reason. The reduction of government subsidies, or the privatization of many educational entities, probably would not bring the universal reign of the for-profit form. We expect the non-profit form to remain robust in many sectors of the higher education market.

National Post: Creative Destruction

This article by Tyler Cowen appeared in the National Post on November 2, 2002.

On one thing the whole world seems to agree: Globalization is homogenizing cultures. At least, a lot of countries are acting as if that’s the case. In the name of containing what the Canadian novelist Margaret Atwood calls “the Great Star-Spangled Them,” the Canadian government subsidizes the nation’s film industry and requires radio stations to devote a percentage of their airtime to home-grown music, carving out extra airplay for stars such as Celine Dion and Barenaked Ladies. Ottawa also discouraged Borders, the American book superstore, from entering the Canadian market out of fear that it would not carry enough Canadian literature. The French government spends some US $3 billion annually on culture and employs 12,000 cultural bureaucrats in an effort to preserve its vision of a uniquely French culture. Spain, South Korea and Brazil place binding domestic-content requirements on their cinemas; France and Spain do the same for television. Until recently, India barred the sale of Coca-Cola.

The argument that markets destroy culture and diversity comes from people across the political spectrum. Liberal political scientist Benjamin Barber claims the world is poised between jihad, a “bloody politics of identity,” and McWorld, “a bloodless economics of profit,” represented by the spread of McDonald’s and American popular culture. In False Dawn: The Delusions of Global Capitalism (1998), the English conservative John Gray denounces globalization as a dangerous delusion, a product of the hopelessly utopian Enlightenment dream of “a single worldwide civilization in which the varied traditions and cultures of the past were superseded by a new, universal community founded in reason.” Duke University’s Fredric Jameson sums up the common view: “The standardization of world culture, with local popular or traditional forms driven out or dumbed down to make way for American television, American music, food, clothes and films, has been seen by many as the very heart of globalization.”

Does the growing global trade in films, music, literature and other cultural products destroy cultural and artistic diversity or actually encourage it? Does it promise a nightmarishly homogenized McWorld or a future of artistic innovation? What will happen to cultural creativity as freedom of economic choice extends across the globe?

Critics of globalization rally around the banner of “cultural diversity.” But much of the contemporary skepticism about the value of cross-cultural exchange has very little to do with diversity. Many critics simply dislike particular trends and use “diversity” as a code word for another agenda, which is often merely anti-commercial or anti-American in nature. In reality, the global exchange of cultural products is increasing diversity in ways that are seldom appreciated.

The critics tend to focus on globalization’s effects on diversity across societies. Gauging diversity then becomes a matter of whether each society offers the same cultural menu, and whether societies are becoming more alike. But the concept of cultural diversity has multiple and sometimes divergent meanings. It can also refer to the variety of choices within a particular society. By that standard, globalization has brought one of the most significant increases in freedom and diversity in human history: It has liberated individuals from the tyranny of place. Growing up on an isolated farm or in a remote village, whether in the Canadian Rockies or Bangladesh, is less a limit than ever before on an individual’s access the to the world’s cultural treasures and opportunities. No longer are one’s choices completely defined by local culture. There is more cultural diversity among Canadians and Bangladeshis than ever before.

These two kinds of diversity – the across variety and the within variety – often move in opposite directions. When one society trades a new artwork to another, diversity within the receiving society increases (because individuals have greater choice), but diversity across the two societies diminishes (the two societies become more alike). The issue is not so much whether there is more or less diversity but rather what kind of diversity globalization brings.

In the McWorld view of things, differentiation should be visible to the naked eye – a change in the landscape, for example, as soon as we cross the border between the United States and Mexico. It’s bad enough that we have Starbucks and MTV in Cleveland; we certainly don’t want to see them in Mexico City. By comparing collectives (national cultures) and by emphasizing the dimension of geographic space, this standard begs the question of which kind of diversity matters. The United States and Mexico may look more similar than they once did, but the individuals in the two countries will have greater leeway to pursue different paths and to make their own cultural choices. Mexicans have the opportunity to drink frappucinos and contemplate pop art, while Americans can enjoy burritos and read the novels of Carlos Fuentes.

Many critics of globalization are also blind to the importance of diversity over time. If we value cultural diversity, the surely we also ought to value diversity over time, or cultural change. Yet for many of diversity’s self-appointed defenders, change is precisely the problem. They decry the passing of cultures and implicitly hope to freeze them at particular times – as if to say that Bali reached a state of perfection in, say, 1968 and should never change.

Finally, we need to distinguish objective diversity (how much diversity there is in the world) from what we might call operative diversity (how effectively we can enjoy that diversity). In some ways the world was very diverse in 1450, but not in a way that was of any benefit to the vast majority of the world’s people. Without markets that promote cross-cultural contacts, the practical value of diversity is limited.

The critics are quite right, however, to point out that the creation of a global marketplace in entertainment and culture poses another kind of threat: The rise of mass culture and entertainment pitched to the least common denominator – the pop globalism of ‘N Sync and Hollywood action films – a “dumbing down” of culture. But this is only part of the story. What these critics don’t recognize is that cultural homogenization and increasing heterogeneity are not mutually exclusive alternatives. In fact, the growth of markets tends to cause the two processes to operate in tandem.

“To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too,” Walt Whitman once observed, and great audiences are precisely what large markets provide. It’s true that they support the likes of Survivor, but they also supply hitherto unreachable patrons for such exotica as Navajo textiles and Cuban dance music. Instead of dying out, many local art forms are flourishing as never before in the new global marketplace, because they’ve been able to find so many new patrons. Although the mass audience may be “dumbed down,” over time consumers in the new niche markets sharpen their tastes and perceptions. Why does New York City have a lively, varied theatre scene while the sedate small town upstate does not? For two reasons: because New York can provide an audience large and affluent enough to sustain the playhouses, and because, through long exposure, those audiences have developed sufficient discernment and taste to patronize quirky off-Broadway productions as well as blockbuster musicals and revivals. In similar fashion, consumers in the global marketplace come to support all manner of once-obscure art forms.

Around the world, growing numbers of niche consumers are pursuing a fantastic variety of cultural interests and passions, from Indonesian gamelan music to African cinema to the post-colonial fiction of Third World writers. The array of cultural choices available to a person in a single book or CD superstore would have been beyond the imagining of anybody living a century ago. The world has more experts who know more about a greater number of cultural phenomena than ever before. Even the most obscure corners of global culture have their partisans, who study and appreciate them with great fervor, often aided by the Internet and other new technologies.

To celebrate the largely unacknowledged cultural benefits of globalization, however, is not to deny its considerable costs. Globalized culture is another example of what the great political economist Joseph Schumpeter had in mind when he envisioned capitalist production as a gale of “creative destruction.” Cultural growth, like economic development, rarely comes as a steady advances on all fronts at once: While some sectors expand rapidly, others may wither away. In the gale of cultural globalization some poor, relatively isolated non-Western societies lose out. What they lose is the peculiar ethos that animates their culture and makes it distinctive – the special feel or flavor of a culture, often rooted in t religious belief or in shared suppositions about the nature and importance of beauty. An ethos is what provides a culture its self-confiedence, its magic. These cultures depend for their survival on the absence of the very thing that globalization promotes: internal diversity.

An ethos can help relatively small groups achieve cultural miracles. The population of Renaissance Florence, for example, did not typically exceed 80,000. But a cultural ethos can be fragile. In an attempt to keep outside influences at bay, the Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan charges tourists $200 a day for the right to visit. It has no traffic lights and no city with more than 10,000 inhabitants, and the countryside is rife with poverty and malnutrition. So far, Bhutan has been able to maintain its distinctive forms of Buddhist art and belief. The list of cultural casualties, however, is quite long. It’s difficult to argue, for example, that Polynesian culture is more vital today than it was before Europeans arrived, even though the Polynesians are now much better off in material terms. Materialism, alcohol, Western technologies and (according to some) Christianity have all taken a toll. In Tahiti, many traditional arts, such as the making of tine tapa, a kind of bark cloth used in clothing and textiles, have been neglected or abandoned because they prove uneconomical or lost status to Western goods.

Is such cultural loss worth the gains? There is no simple answer to this question. Because of widespread cross-cultural exchanges, the world as a whole has a broader menu of choices, but older cultures are forced to give way to newer ones. Some regions, in return for access to the world’s cultural treasures and the ability to market their products abroad, will lose their distinctiveness. Tragedy, that overworked and often misused word, certainly has a place in describing their fate.

Yet most Third World cultures (like Western cultures) are fundamentally hybrids to begin with – synthetic products of multiple global influences, Western and otherwise. For them, creative destruction is nothing new, and it is misleading to describe their cultures as “indigenous.” The metal knife proved a boon to many Third World sculpting and carving traditions, including those that produced the splendid totem poles of the Pacific Northwest and Papua New Guinea, South African Ndbele art uses beads as an essential material in the adornment of aprons, clothing and textiles, but the beads are not indigenous to Africa. They were first imported, from what is now the Czech Republic, in the early 19th century. Mirrors, coral, cotton cloth and paper – key materials in “traditional” African arts – were also acquired through contact with Europeans.

The art of cultural synthesis has a long and honorable history, so to describe today’s Third World culture makers as synthesizers is hardly to denigrate them. It is, rather, the contrary emphasis on monoculture that is offensive in its implicit portrayal of non-Western artists as static, tradition-bound craftworkers, unable to embrace new influences. The ability to incorporate alien influences has long been recognized as one of the keys to creativity. The historian Herodotus ascribed the cultural vitality of the Greeks to their genius for synthesis. To varying degrees, the Western cultures draw their philosophical heritage from the Greeks, their religions from the Middle East, their scientific base from the Chinese and Islamic worlds, and their core populations and languages from Europe. In other words, the foundations of the West (and of other civilizations throughout history) are also multicultural, resulting from the international exchange of goods, services and ideas.

In historical terms, periods of cross-cultural exchange have been exciting, fruitful times. The year between 1800 and the First World War, for example, saw an unprecedented increase in internationalization. The West adopted the steamship, the railroad and the automobile to replace travel by sail or coach, and international trade, investment and migration grew rapidly. The exchange of cultural ideas between Europe and the Americas promoted diversity and equality; it did not turn everything into a homogenized pap.

The worst period of cultural decline in Western history coincided with a radical shrinking of trade frontiers. The so-called Dark Ages, which date roughly from the collapse of the Roman Empire in the 5th century AD to early medieval times, around 1100, saw a massive contraction of interregional trade and investment. The Roman Empire had fostered regular contact among people spread over a great stretch of the ancient world. After the empire fell, these contacts all but disappeared with the withering of trade and urban life. Architecture, painting, sculpture, literature and philosophy – reading itself – all went into decline. Medieval society and the Renaissance were, in large part, the consequence of a process of reglobalization. The West increased its contacts with the Chinese and Islamic worlds; trade fairs expanded; shipping lanes became more active; scientific ideas spread; and overland trade routes, many dormant since the time of the Romans, were re-established. This was the crucible in which modern Western culture was formed.

Cultural exchange rarely takes place on equal terms. Yet, uneven as the playing field of the global economy may be, Third World arts have blossomed. The flowering of various folk arts – form Haitian naïve painting to Tuvan throat singing in Mongolia – during the past few decades has been driven largely by Western demand, materials and technologies of production. Canada’s Inuit, for example, did not practise sculpture on a large scale until an outsider introduced them to soapstone carving in 1948. Since then, sculpture has flourished among the Inuit, and they have developed other arts, enjoying an artistic and commercial success that has allowed them to maintain many of their traditional ways of life.

Despite the American pop juggernaut, music around the world is healthier and more diverse today than ever before. Hardly swamped by output from the multinational conglomerates, local musicians have adapted international influences to their own ends. Most world music styles are of more recent origin than is commonly believed, even in supposedly “traditional” genres: The 20th century brought waves of musical innovation to most cultures, especially the large, open ones. The musical centers of the Third World – Cairo, Lagos, Rio de Janeiro – are heterogeneous and cosmopolitan cities that have welcomed new ideas and new technologies from abroad. Nonetheless, most domestic musical forms have no trouble commanding loyal audiences at home. In India, domestically produced music claims 96% of the market; in Egypt, 81%; and in Brazil, 73%.

Cinema offers perhaps the clearest grounds for an indictment of globalized culture because Hollywood has had so much success exporting its products. Even so, in the past 20 years Hong Kong, India, China, Denmark, Iran and Taiwan have all produced many notable award-winning movies. The riches of African cinema remain undiscovered treasure for most viewers, and European cinema shows signs of commercial revitalization. One reason for the domestic success of overseas filmmakers is that movies often do not translate well from culture to culture: Action, adventure, and heroism are universal languages that Hollywood speaks with great skill, but comedy, drama and other genres usually require local accents and inflections.

For similar reasons, American books do not dominate fiction bestseller lists abroad. Even the Netherlands, with fewer than 10 million people, produces most of its own bestsellers. Yet globalization often provides local writers with an international stage, and the new era has given us notable writers who practise synthesis by wedding Western literary forms to their local traditions and concerns: Salman Rushdie of India, Gabriel García Márquez of Colombia, Naguib Mahfouz of Egypt, Pramoedya Toer of Indonesia, and many others. It’s not surprising that Third World writers have been among the strongest proponents of a cosmopolitan multiculturalism. Rushdie describes his work as celebrating hybridity, impurity and mongrelization. Ghana-born Kwame Anthony Appiah believes cosmopolitanism complements rather than destroys his “rootedness,” and that new and innovative forms are maintaining the diversity of world culture.

It is impossible to deny that globalization will bring the demise of some precious and irreplaceable small cultures, and for that reason we should hope that the new global cosmopolitanism does not enjoy total triumph – that places such as Bhutan will succeed not just in preserving their cultures but in sustaining cultures that continue to live and breathe.

Yet one could not hope for a world in which we all inhabited a Bhutan, or in which Bhutan was preserved merely for our own edification. One could not hope, in other words, for a world in which we lacked the chance to experience the world’s diversity, or in which another people were kept isolated and poor simply to enhance the diversity available to us. Culture is, and has always been, a process of creative destruction. We might wish for the creativity without the destruction, but in this world we don’t have that choice.