Ha-Joon Chang recently wrote an article in the Financial Times criticising the state of economic education, which drew considerable attention. What went almost unnoticed, however, was a letter published in response. Surprisingly, one of the most prominent Austrian economists, Mario Rizzo, agreed with Chang. He wrote:

Recently, I had a chance to look at some exams in undergraduate economics courses, including the first course, generally called "Principles." What I saw was disturbing. The students were given, mainly or only, problem sets of a completely mathematical nature. The emphasis was on mechanical problem-solving. There were no questions involving critical reflection on the ideas or frameworks taught.

What explains this unlikely agreement between two economists from opposite schools of thought? The simple answer is that there is something wrong with economic education. But the deeper problem lies not in what is taught, but how it is taught.

Let's go back to one of the most influential economics books ever written—a book on the scale of Keynes's General Theory or Marshall's Principles—Economics by Paul Samuelson. It became one of the bestselling textbooks of all time, making a fortune for its author. But more important than its commercial success was its intellectual influence, prompting Samuelson to declare: "I don't care who writes a nation's laws, if I can write its economics textbooks." He was right. He is, in Keynes's phrase, the "defunct economist" still shaping how we think. What truly mattered about his book was how it redefined the economist's role.

Samuelson wrote: "No immutable 'wave of the future' washes us down 'the road to serfdom,' or to utopia. Where the complex economic conditions of life necessitate social coordination and planning, sensible men of good will can be expected to invoke the authority and creative activity of government." In Samuelson's world, the economist's task is to assist the "men of good will" in government to solve social problems. Deirdre McCloskey captures this mindset best in her memoirs, recalling that when she studied for her PhD at Harvard, her classmates all imagined they would go to Washington to "fine-tune" the economy.

Economic education since then has trained students to see themselves as assistants to these "men of good will," solving technical equations for equilibrium and absorbing the idea that economics is an engineering problem rather than a coordination problem. Engineering problems deal with optimal solutions and data, but coordination problems deal with trade-offs and dispersed knowledge.