The extraordinary
life of Professor Milton Friedman has been extolled in every major
newspaper around the world. His contributions to economic theory
and the free society merit a celebration of the life of this
extraordinary individual.
Friedman was small
in stature but a giant in the world of ideas. His passion and
wisdom extended well beyond the field of economics and combined to
make him one of the most compelling advocates of human freedom the
world has known.
His ideas earned
him the Nobel Prize. But more than that, his ideas have been
translated into public policy in this nation and in countries
around the world. And these ideas have empowered millions of people
to pursue their destiny, opening for them new economic and
educational opportunities that have made them more productive and
more prosperous.
Over the last 30
years, Friedman enjoyed a close relationship with The Heritage
Foundation. He was the featured speaker at the 1979 dedication of
our headquarters building, our 1983 10th anniversary
"Heritage 10" celebration, and other occasions. In 1998, I awarded
Rose and Milton Friedman The Heritage Foundation's Clare Boothe
Luce Award, our most distinguished honor. Friedman and Heritage
have been closely linked in the policy arena for a very long
time.
Even though he was
formally affiliated with our sister institution, the Hoover
Institution on War, Revolution and Peace at Stanford University, he
never failed to lend his name, his credibility, and his energy to
building other institutions committed to a free society in the
United States and around the world.
He was one of the
Philadelphia Society's four founding members, who organized the
group in a New York City hotel in December 1964. His role with the
Cato Institute, which awards the Milton Friedman Prize, the
Institute of Economic Affairs in London, the Mont Pelerin Society,
and a variety of other pro-freedom entities around the world
testify to his willingness to promote the free society at every
available opportunity.
With this short
collection of comments about Milton Friedman, I join the legions
who have praised his work.
The price of
liberty, Thomas Jefferson reminded us, is eternal vigilance. You,
Rose and Milton Friedman, have been second to none in your
vigilant, tireless, and effective defense of liberty. At a time
when it was intellectually fashionable to assert that collectivism
was the wave of the future, you steadfastly championed the moral
and practical superiority of free markets. At a time when
"economic" freedom was widely held to be less important than
"political" freedom, you demonstrated that they are, in fact,
inseparable. And when others looked to the power of the state to
accomplish their social objectives, you reshaped American politics
through your advocacy of monetary restraint, deregulation, the
volunteer army, school choice, and the flat tax.
Rose and Milton,
for showing us how to advance the cause of freedom with academic
rigor and prophetic zeal, and for strengthening the foundations of
liberty in America and around the world, The Heritage Foundation is
proud to salute you.
Yet this debating
skill is leavened with wit, proving that the "dismal science" is
anything but dismal in his hands. In reference to his height-five
feet, two inches-he claims that he lost an inch from carrying the
"weight of the world" on his shoulders. When Richard Nixon opined
that "We are all Keynesians now," Friedman immediately wrote
Galbraith a note: "You must be as chagrined as I am to have Nixon
for your disciple."
Milton Friedman's
defining attitude is an infectious confidence, which has given
conservative (and classical liberal) economics its forward
momentum. A student skit from the University of Chicago in the
1950s included the line: "Mr. Friedman, is it correct that you have
discovered Truth, and that you are now simply verifying it
empirically?" Once, when hiring an administrative assistant who
lacked an economics background, Friedman reassured her: "You don't
have to worry about not knowing anything about economics. There are
many people who studied economics for years and don't know anything
about economics. Stick with me and you'll learn the correct
way."
Chairman of the
Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan, who has called Friedman one of the
most productive intellects of the century, comments: "As far as
Milton Friedman is concerned, if something is true, it's true. He
talks the same way to an eighteen-year-old college student as he
does to the President of the United States." And he has regularly
and persuasively talked with both.
Born in 1912,
Milton Friedman is the product of America's hard, rich immigrant
experience. His parents emigrated from a province of the
Austro-Hungarian Empire in the late nineteenth century. From the
age of fourteen, his mother worked as a seamstress in a New York
sweat shop, an institution Friedman vigorously defends as a source
of low-skill, low-paying jobs. "Sweatshops serve a very useful
function. If present-day labor laws had been in effect in the 19th
century, you never would have been able to have all the immigration
you did."
As a child,
Friedman showed a talent for mathematics, graduating from high
school before his sixteenth birthday and dreaming of becoming an
actuary for an insurance company. But at Rutgers College, where he
was a student of Arthur Burns (later chairman of the Council of
Economic Advisers and chairman of the Federal Reserve), Friedman
fell in love with economics. Graduating in 1932, at the darkest
moment of the Great Depression, he was offered a scholarship to the
University of Chicago.
That university,
he remembers, "exposed me to a cosmopolitan and vibrant
intellectual atmosphere of a kind that I had never dreamed existed.
I have never recovered." The University of Chicago's economics
department was populated by free-market giants, including Frank
Knight, Jacob Viner, and Henry Simons. Here Friedman also
encountered another formative influence-a fellow graduate student
in economics named Rose Director, who became his wife and frequent
collaborator. Her husband, she recalls, was supremely studious,
with little interest in things non-academic. Once, before they were
married, she dragged him to the symphony in New York in a vain
attempt to civilize him. "When I saw that he sat beside me reading
a book while the music was on, I gave up."
After wartime work
in Washington (where his efforts led to income tax withholding from
paychecks to fund the war effort), Friedman returned to the
University of Chicago, this time as a professor. Lindley Clark,
editor and columnist at the Wall Street Journal, was one of
Friedman's students in the late 1940s. He remembers him as
"exciting, even exhilarating" teacher who, unlike some colleagues,
"wasn't always canceling classes because his advice was wanted in
Washington."
The University of
Chicago, after World War II, was in the midst of a conservative
golden age. Richard Weaver taught English and rhetoric. Friedrich
von Hayek lectured on social philosophy. Leo Strauss attacked
relativism and revisited Athens and Jerusalem in political
philosophy. And Milton Friedman began a thirty-year run of
scholarly achievements that changed the landscape of American
economics. In 1950, he wrote a landmark piece on flexible exchange
rates which has been called a "modern classic." In the early 1960s,
he authored, with Anna Schwartz, the 860-page A Monetary History
of the United States, reconstructing money supply data back to
the Civil War from old bank records. Other works dealt with
consumption theory, statistics and economic methodology. "People at
MIT and Harvard didn't know what they were going to work on until
Milton made a speech," says fellow University of Chicago Nobel
Laureate, the late George Stigler. His influence transformed an
academic department into a movement, the "Chicago School," of which
Friedman was the spiritual leader. One professor at the time was
led to conclude, "At most universities, people are either
conservatives or liberals, but at Chicago, you are either a
libertarian or an authoritarian."
Along the way,
Friedman participated in the founding of the Mont Pelerin Society
on April 1, 1947-an organization which has been called a "kind of
Comintern for the free-market." Convened by Hayek in Switzerland,
the meeting attracted thirty-nine prominent European and American
scholars and connected Friedman to an international network of
like-minded intellectuals. The tone of that first conference was
somber. Its concluding declaration warned that "the position of the
individual and the voluntary group are progressively undermined by
extensions of arbitrary power." Yet the effect was encouraging.
"The importance of that meeting," Friedman observes, "was that it
showed us we were not alone." It was a "rallying point," he says,
for outnumbered troops.
Friedman's rising
star was quickly noticed in Washington. He turned down an
invitation from President Eisenhower to serve on his Council of
Economic Advisers. "I really thought I could be much more helpful
and useful in the world at large as a maverick than I could be in
Washington as a civil servant." But Washington kept insisting. In
1964, Friedman served as economic adviser to candidate Barry
Goldwater.
But through it
all, Friedman remained a maverick, unafraid to criticize slipshod
economic thinking, whatever its source. When President Nixon
imposed wage and price controls in 1971, Friedman wrote in the
New York Times: "The controls are deeply and inherently
immoral. By substituting the rule of men for the rule of law and
for voluntary cooperation in the marketplace, the controls threaten
the very foundations of a free society. By encouraging men to spy
and report on one another, by making it in the private interest of
large numbers of citizens to evade controls, and by making actions
illegal that are in the public interest, the controls undermine
individual morality."
In this period,
one of Friedman's great achievements was the all-volunteer
military. Beginning at a University of Chicago conference in
December of 1966, Friedman debated vigorously against the draft.
Eventually, he served on the presidential commission that voted to
terminate it. And our experience since the summer of 1973,
culminating in the Gulf War, has confirmed Friedman's faith in the
ability and commitment of soldiers who give their service without
compulsion.
In 1966-the same
year that William Buckley started "Firing Line"-Friedman began his
regular column in Newsweek, dueling with liberal economist
Paul Samuelson, and spreading his ideas to a broader popular
audience. In 1967, he was elected president of the American
Economic Association. In 1969 he was featured on the cover of
Time, in which he was called a "maverick messiah." Historian
George Nash observes: "Here was a man of increasing prestige within
his profession, a man whom even opponents respected as one of the
very best American economists, who was articulating conservative
viewpoints with a felicitous combination of learning and wit."
The Nobel Prize
came in 1976, the two hundredth anniversary of Adam Smith's
Wealth of Nations and Thomas Jefferson's Declaration of
Independence, statements of economic and social freedom that
Friedman has given new vigor and voice. In that same year, he left
the University of Chicago. "I reached the age of 65 and had graded
enough exam papers." But a broader exercise in teaching was just
beginning. On January 11, 1980-a landmark date in American
conservatism-the first episode of Friedman's "Free to Choose" aired
on PBS, making a compelling case to millions of viewers on the
essential connection between capitalism and human freedom. The
ten-part series took Friedman from Hong Kong harbor, to the Glasgow
classroom where Adam Smith lectured, to a Japanese electronics
factory, to the ornate boardroom of the New York Federal Reserve.
The book based on the series, and written with his wife Rose, was
simultaneously on the bestseller list of every English-speaking
nation in the world. One reviewer commented, "The Friedmans come
out swinging on page one of the Preface and do not let up until the
last page of Appendix B." Ronald Reagan called it "must reading for
everyone."
In 1988, Milton
Friedman was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. He now
lives in San Francisco and is a senior research fellow with the
Hoover Institution. His overriding interest, he says, remains the
same: "To try to understand as much as I can of the world around
me-and to enjoy myself in the process. And no doubt, one has to
confess, not only to understand, not only to enjoy-but to
reform."
I first met
Professor Milton Friedman in 1964 when he was a visiting professor
of Economics at Columbia University. The late Don Lipsett arranged
a meeting with Frank Meyer, William Buckley, Milton, Don, and me at
the Sheraton-Atlantic Hotel in New York City. This was the
organizing meeting of what would become the Philadelphia Society.
Incidentally, this was also the first time that Friedman and
Buckley had met each other. I was very much the junior man at the
meeting, but plans were laid for a major American institution
patterned after the international Mont Pelerin Society as an
interdisciplinary organization of academics, businessmen,
journalists, and others involved in studying and promoting the Free
Society.
After our initial
1964 meeting, I came to know Milton and Rose as active participants
in the public policy process, as well as participants in both
Philadelphia Society and Mont Pelerin Society meetings. Milton's
acuity was never sharper or more pithy than the time in 1968 at the
Chicago meeting of the Philadelphia Society when he challenged me
for my support of revenue sharing. Suffice it to say that in this
case, like so many others before and since that meeting, Friedman
was right and I was wrong, despite the seeming political
attractiveness of the idea at the time.
The active
involvement of both Milton and Rose in the Fiftieth Anniversary
Special Gathering of the Mont Pelerin Society in Mont Pelerin,
Switzerland, was a special occasion for all 120 of us who
participated in it. To many of us, this was the capstone of his
career as the leading intellectual light of the worldwide movement
for liberty, especially since he was the only member of the Society
who attended both the founding meeting and this golden anniversary
celebration.
Milton Friedman
carefully defines himself as a free market liberal, not as a
conservative-a liberal in the classical sense, concerned primarily
with the freedom of individuals. But it is impossible to deny that
Friedman's greatest influence has been on, and come through, the
American conservative movement, which has this same concern at its
core.
In Free to
Choose, he talks of "the importance of the intellectual climate
of opinion, which determines the unthinking preconceptions of most
people and their leaders, their conditioned reflexes to one course
of action or another." Friedman's contribution to conservatism has
been to influence that climate like the thaw after an ice age.
First, he has been
able to thoroughly discredit the idea, common since the Great
Depression, that capitalism is inherently flawed and requires the
"fine-tuning" of government to avoid excess and disaster. This has
been the central conceit of the Keynesian state, administered by
educated elites, adjusting tax and spending policies to tame the
business cycle. As late as December 1965, Time could run a
cover story on John Maynard Keynes, concluding, "Today, some twenty
years after his death, his theories are the prime influence on the
world's free economies, especially on America's. Keynes and his
ideas still make some people nervous, but they have been so widely
accepted that they constitute both the new orthodoxy in the
universities and the assumption of economic management in
Washington."
Friedman attacked
these beliefs at their root. He ambitiously argued that the Great
Depression was not caused by the "defects" of capitalism but by
government incompetence. Going back to the 1930s, he demonstrated
that the one-third fall in GNP was due to a one-third cut in the
money supply from 1929 to 1933. "The Great Depression in the United
States, far from being a sign of the inherent instability of the
private enterprise system, is a testament to how much harm can be
done by mistakes on the part of a few men when they wield vast
power over the monetary system of the country."
This astonishing
revision of the conventional wisdom changed the entire context of
economic policy. Keynesians argued that an unstable private sector
must be stabilized by the public sector. Friedman showed that an
essentially stable private sector has been the victim of irrational
shocks by government. In the process, he made it academically and
intellectually respectable to believe there was life left in Adam
Smith, even after the soup lines of the 1930s.
Second, Milton
Friedman has shown, in case after case, that government
interventions in free markets are not only ineffective, but result
in the exact opposite of their intended purpose. He has called this
the "invisible foot"-the unseen force that makes things go terribly
and perversely wrong with social programs. The minimum wage,
instead of helping poor people, eliminates low-paying, entry-level
jobs. Price controls on energy actually resulted in the energy
shortage and crisis of the 1970s. Public housing has led to inhuman
living conditions. "The government solution to a problem," Friedman
concludes, "is usually as bad as the problem."
Yet, on the other
side of this ledger, when free markets are allowed and encouraged
to work, they often prove an unsuspected, constructive power to
solve social problems-in education and the protection of workers,
consumers, and the environment. Freedom leads, not just to economic
efficiency, but to social justice. And this has led Friedman beyond
the realm of economic theory to draw the hopeful policy
implications of his ideas. Above any conservative economist of his
time, he understands the inadequacy of a vision without a task. He
has not only criticized current social and economic arrangements,
he has proposed specific, free-market alternatives like school
vouchers, the flat tax and deregulation. His brainstorms have
provided conservatives with a positive agenda. Friedman is a
realist with a passion for the possible, who sees his role not only
in the demolition of bad ideas, but the construction of better
ones. And this has helped turn free market economics into a force
of hopeful reform.
Third, and most
important, Friedman has made a case with passion and power that
economic, social, and political freedom are inseparable-part of the
same yearning of the human spirit. He has defended "the fundamental
proposition that freedom is one whole, that anything that reduces
freedom on one part of our lives is likely to affect freedom in the
other parts." "It is widely believed that politics and economics
are separate and largely unconnected; that individual freedom is a
political problem and material welfare is an economic
problem.… Such a view is a delusion," wrote Friedman in
1962. "On one hand, freedom in economic arrangements is itself a
component of freedom broadly understood, so economic freedom is an
end in itself. In the second place, economic freedom is also an
indispensable means toward achievement of political freedom."
This is perhaps
the most revolutionary idea of the twentieth century, with more
dramatic promise than anything claimed by Marx, and it is a
profoundly conservative concept. What Jefferson called the "disease
of liberty" cannot be quarantined; it is bound to spread rapidly,
as a number of the world's tyrants have discovered to their
discomfort. Economic freedom is connected not only to the
liberation of men and women from poverty, but their liberation from
tyranny and torture, and from the oppression of conscience and
information. Friedman argues that the finest achievement of
capitalism is not the accumulation of wealth and property but "the
opportunities it offers to men and women to extend and develop and
improve their capacities." And Friedman's unquestioned success in
making this case is the primary reason William Buckley refers to
him, simply, as "my hero."
This essay is one
of the classic statements of the philosophy of freedom.
Capitalism and Freedom-dubbed by some followers as
"Capitalism and Friedman"-is described by George Nash as "one of
the most significant works of conservative scholarship of the
1960s." It has been in print for thirty-five years, sold over half
a million copies and been translated into Spanish, French, Swedish,
Italian, German, Japanese, Hebrew, Icelandic, Arabic, Russian, and
Portuguese.
With typical
iconoclasm, Milton Friedman launches his defense of liberty with an
attack on John Kennedy's call to ask what "we can do for our
country." In place of this concept, Friedman elevates another
objective: "We take freedom of the individual, or perhaps of the
family, as our ultimate goal in judging social arrangements." His
reasons are practical, noble, and compelling: because social
progress-in art, ideas, and the relief of misery-results from a
social climate of variety and diversity; because free markets are a
necessary condition for political freedom (though not a sufficient
one); because "democratic socialism" can never be democratic; and,
most important, because freedom and justice head in the same
direction, rewarding merit and allowing for coordination without
coercion. Opposing free markets is a serious matter, because
"underlying most arguments against the free market is a lack of
belief in freedom itself."
This essay is a
bold assault on the core convictions of modern liberalism by a
classical liberal in the tradition of Adam Smith. And it reveals a
conviction at the heart of modern conservatism: that justice,
opportunity, and even social morality depend on personal liberty
and limited government-on structures of freedom that honor
accomplishment and cherish human dignity.
There is no more
articulate voice in defense of freedom than Milton Friedman. But he
is careful to note that, while freedom is the highest goal of
society, it cannot be the highest goal of individuals. "In a
society, freedom has nothing to say about what an individual does
with his freedom; it is not an all-embracing ethic. Indeed, a major
aim of the liberal is to leave the ethical problem for the
individual to wrestle with. The really important ethical problems
are those that face an individual in a free society-what he should
do with his freedom."
In mid-1998,
Milton and Rose Friedman's joint autobiography will be published by
the University of Chicago Press. At that time, the same publisher
will release a new edition of Capitalism and Freedom. We
hope that this excerpt from that seminal work will pique the
interest of the new generation to reflect on the timeless
principles of liberty as expounded by Milton Friedman a generation
ago.
Economic and
social freedom, Friedman reminds us, is not a state of nature, but
it is also not a state of grace. It creates the space where souls
can make their own choices, informed by bishops and rabbis, poets
and philosophers. "The central and supreme object of liberty," said
Lord Acton, "is the reign of conscience." And in the end they are
inseparable.
Edwin
J. Feulner, Ph.D.,is president of The Heritage
Foundation (heritage.org), a Washington-based public policy
research institute and co-author of the new book Getting America Right.