Deep Roots: Is Garett Jones Channeling the Lord of the Vineyard?
"The important thinkers of the future will be religious thinkers"
[Epistemic status: Unclear. Also possibly the weirdest post I’ve ever written.]
Last week I had the opportunity to interview Garett Jones about his excellent new book on the long-run relevance of culture.
What follows are my reflections on the tail end of that discussion, which indirectly touches on one of Tyler Cowen’s deceptively cryptic phrases.
II.
When immigrants move to a place with different institutions, overwhelmingly their cultural values change gradually, if ever, but rarely within two generations.
—Alberto Alesina and Paola Giuliano, Journal of Economic Literature, 2015
Garett argues that populations have “deep roots”, a cultural heritage that persists for many generations after migrants leave their homeland. This shows up in survey data as a statistical tendency for e.g. Italian Americans to be about as trusting (or frugal, or individualistic) as are native born Italians in Italy, even after the neighbors stop noticing.
Once you internalize this insight, the cultural background of the people around you becomes a powerful lens for interpreting their words and actions. Not in a stereotypical way, or to the exclusion of other factors—but as a genuine attempt to understand someone at a greater level of depth.
In this spirit, I asked Garett two questions that pertain to his own cultural background and that of his colleagues at George Mason University.
What did growing up in the LDS church teach you about the importance and persistence of culture?
How does religion impact the culture of GMU econ more generally?
To appreciate this last question in particular, it helps to take stock of some of the prominent GMU characters in terms of their cultural and religious background.
III.
As a former Latter-day Saint who attended BYU and served briefly as a Mormon Elder in Sacramento, Garett is one of the more obvious examples of a GMU intellectual for whom religious cultural background is relevant. But he is by no means the only one.
Bryan Caplan was raised Roman Catholic, and is also Jewish on his father’s side. Despite rejecting faith in his teenage years, he sometimes refers to himself as a puritan and calls others to repentance. He also participated in a Mormon scout troop as a boy.
Robin Hanson is a pastor’s son, with many religiously active relatives.
Arnold Kling attends synagogue within the tradition of Reconstructionist Judaism. Though he doesn’t espouse any overtly theological beliefs of which I am aware, he tends to take a fairly conservative view of religious institutions in other respects.
Russ Roberts is also Jewish and speaks to his religious belief and practice often on Econtalk. He is currently the president of Shalem College in Jerusalem.
And Tyler… well he might need a post of his own someday.
IV.
You’ll notice that I haven’t drawn directly on any of Garett’s responses to my questions. I do this partly because reposting the exact same content in two places is boring and always makes me feel a little let down when I’m on the other end of it. If you like receiving raw transcripts separately, I encourage you to subscribe at TWS.
But the primary reason is that this post goes deeper into the connections between Latter-day Saint influence and his new book than most prospective readers care to know and possibly even more than Garett himself could comfortably endorse in the context of his exactingly rigorous scholarship.1 He might just flat out disagree.
But with that disclaimer, let me explain why “The Culture Transplant” reminds me of an extended allegory from the Book of Mormon.
V.
The best way I can think to convey the relationship Latter-day Saints have with the Allegory of the Tame and Wild Olive Trees is with a slightly revealing story.
I had just moved to a new place and met a girl I was really starting to like. Things were going well after one of our dates, and it seemed like the perfect moment to reach out and hold her hand. Here’s what happened instead.
Setting: On the balcony, gazing romantically at the stars above
Her: [something normal]
Me: “That reminds me of the allegory of the olive trees.”
Her: “The what?”
Me: “Oh you know, like in Jacob 5.”
Her: “I’ve never read it.”
Narrator: “Their love was not to be—they had reached separating equilibrium.”
In case that story was in any way less effective than advertised, basically the allegory is super long and difficult to read which makes it a pretty reliable indicator of someone’s commitment… kind of like this post.
VI.
But behold, the wild branches have grown and have overrun the roots thereof; and because that the wild branches have overcome the roots thereof it hath brought forth much evil fruit; and because that it hath brought forth so much evil fruit thou beholdest that it beginneth to perish; and it will soon become ripened, that it may be cast into the fire, except we should do something for it to preserve it.
If you’ve made it this far, you deserve to know what this allegory is even about. In broad strokes it concerns the efforts of two people— a Lord and his servant —to tend to a vineyard. Here is a short summary of the beginning…
1: The most important tree is the tame olive tree, which despite having very good roots begins to decay. This saddens the Lord of the vineyard.
2: To save the tree, the two laborers take branches from a wild olive tree and graft them into the tame olive tree in the place of some of its withered branches.
3: A long time passes, after which the laborers revisit the tame olive tree and are delighted to find that it has produced good fruit. The branches from the wild olive tree have preserved the roots (verse 17-18).
Behold, the branches of the wild tree have taken hold of the moisture of the root thereof, that the root thereof hath brought forth much strength; and because of the much strength of the root thereof the wild branches have brought forth tame fruit. Now, if we had not grafted in these branches, the tree thereof would have perished.
4: Meanwhile, the Lord of the vineyard had taken the plucked branches from the tame tree and scattered them in various other places (verse 14). The servant notes that most of these were planted in a very poor spot of ground, but somehow still managed to produce good fruit. Verses 21-22 read,
And it came to pass that the servant said unto his master: How comest thou hither to plant this tree, or this branch of the tree? For behold, it was the poorest spot in all the land of thy vineyard.
And the Lord of the vineyard said unto him: Counsel me not; I knew that it was a poor spot of ground; wherefore, I said unto thee, I have nourished it this long time, and thou beholdest that it hath brought forth much fruit.
5: One of the scattered branches is an exception: it grows mostly bad fruit, despite being planted in a good spot of ground (verse 25).
6: The laborers nourish all of the trees, in hopes that the one growing bad fruit will improve and grow more good fruit like the others.
7: A long time passes, and again the Lord and his servant go out to inspect the trees. They find the opposite of their desires. Every tree, from the last formed from the plucked branches (#5) to the tame tree they started with, has become corrupt like the wild olive tree (verses 45-46).
So how does this relate to Garett’s book? To me the parallels are striking.
The two original trees (tame and wild) represent two cultures, which depend on each other intimately for prosperity (producing good fruit). Without grafting in (immigration) from the wild olive tree, the tame tree will wither and die. Should that happen, the wild olive tree will likewise fail to prosper without access to good roots (high-functioning institutions) to be grafted onto. The tame tree can thus be thought of as Garett’s I-7 (the seven nations on which the entire world depends for nearly all innovation), but especially America, which has proven to be a uniquely adept culture for attracting and assimilating talented migrant innovators from around the world.
The broader themes of the allegory are in line with Garett’s overall theory of economic growth (culture and institutions matter much more than geography) and his views on immigration specifically (a very good thing up to a point, but potentially threatening in large doses). I imagine him explaining to the Lord of the vineyard, perhaps in Argentina, what has gone so wrong.
Have not the branches thereof overcome the roots which are good? And because the branches have overcome the roots thereof, behold they grew faster than the strength of the roots, taking strength unto themselves. Behold, I say, is not this the cause that the trees of thy vineyard have become corrupted?
VII.
Did the allegory of the tame and wild olive trees ever explicitly cross Garett’s mind while writing “The Culture Transplant”? Who knows. Maybe everything just reminds me of olive trees the way everything reminded Milton Friedman of the money supply.
But I did come away from his book and our interview together convinced that the roots can be very deep indeed.
If you think I’m engaging in empty flattery, read through the transcript and note how frequently he responds with something along the lines of “I’m not certain” or “I haven’t tested this”.
Robin Hanson denied the truth of the parable of the talents later in the interview, which made me think of him as either less religious or less self aware (I find it bizarre when economists deny the importance of that parable, c.f. Noah Smith); contrast that to Tyler Cowen who is consciously puritan about his work ethic, without denying the role of inherent motivation.
I can see why The Culture transplant reminds you of the parable of the olive tree, but not why your evening under the stars did.