When Deng Xiaoping died a few months ago, the Chinese leadership barely paused for a moment before getting on with the business of governing the country. Contrast that with the chaotic contortions on India’s political stage during the past month, and it is easy to conclude that democracy and democratic freedoms are serious obstacles to economic progress.
When the Chinese leadership wants a power plant to be set up, it just goes ahead. No fears of protracted litigation, of environmental protests, or of lobbying by interested parties. It — or the economy — is not held to ransom by striking truckers or air traffic controllers. Certainly, there is much that is alluring about an enlightened dictatorship.
But there the trouble begins. First, there is no guarantee that a dictatorship will be an enlightened one. Myanmar has been ruled by a dictator for decades, and no one would claim that it is better off than even Bangladesh which has itself suffered long stretches of dictatorship. Nor can Mobuto Sese Seko, much in the news these days, be described as enlightened by any reckoning. The people of Israel, almost the only democracy in a region where dictatorships (unenlightened ones) are the norm, are much better off than their neighbours.
Second, dictatorships can easily reverse policies. China was socialist as long as Mao Zedong was around. When Deng Xiaoping took over in what was essentially a palace coup, he took the country in the opposite direction. There is little to ensure that the process will not be repeated. In India such drastic reversals are unlikely.
Six years ago Indian politicians agreed that industries should be de-licensed, that imports should be freed or that investment decisions should be based on economic considerations. Now few think otherwise. Almost all politicians are convinced of the merits of liberalisation though they may occasionally lose sight of the big picture in pandering to their constituencies. India has moved slower than China on liberalisation, but whatever moves it has made are more permanent.
Democracies are also less likely to get embroiled in destructive wars. Had Saddam Hussain been under the obligation of facing free elections every five years, he would have thought ten times before entangling his people in a long confrontation with the West. Germany, Italy and Japan were all dictatorships when they launched the World War II. The price was paid by the economies.
Democracies make many small mistakes. But dictatorships are more susceptible to making huge ones and risking everything on one decision — like going to war. Democracies are the political equivalent of free markets. Companies know they can’t fool the consumer too often; he will simply switch to the competition. The same goes for political parties. When they fail to live up to their promises in government, the political consumer opts for the competition. Democratic freedoms too are important for the economy, especially now that information is supreme. Few doubt that the Internet will play an important part in the global economy in the decades to come. But China, by preventing free access to it, is already probably destroying its capabilities in this area. As service industries grow in importance, China may well be at a disadvantage though that may not be apparent today when its manufacturing juggernaut is rolling ahead.
India has stifled its entrepreneurs through its licensing policies. That was an example of how the absence of economic freedom can harm a country. But right-wing dictatorships like South Korea erred in the opposite direction. They forced their businesses to invest in industries, which they (the dictators) felt had a golden future. Now many of those firms are trying to retreat from those investments. Statism is bad, no matter what the direction in which it applies pressure. At this moment, China and other dictatorships may be making foolish investment decisions. But as industries are subsidized and contrary voices not heard, the errors will not be realised until the investments assume gargantuan proportions.
India’s hesitant ways may seem inferior to China’s confident moves. But at least we know what the costs are. That is not the case with China. It was only years after the Great Leap Forward and only such experiments that the cost in human lives (millions of them) became evident to the world. What the cost of China’s present experiments is we may not know for several years more. A nine per cent rate of growth repeated year after year may seem compelling. But a seven per cent rate of growth that will not falter is more desirable. India seems to be on such a growth curve, whatever the shenanigans of our politicians


When people who are talking don’t share the same culture, knowledge, values, and assumptions, mutual understanding can be especially difficult. Such understanding is possible through the negotiation of meaning. To negotiate meaning with someone, you have to become aware of and respect both the differences in your backgrounds and when these differences are important. You need enough diversity of cultural and personal experience to be aware that divergent world views exist and what they might be like. You also need the flexibility in world view, and a generous tolerance for mistakes, as well as a talent for finding the right metaphor to communicate the relevant parts of unshared experiences or to highlight the shared experiences while demphasizing the others. Metaphorical imagination is a crucial skill in creating rapport and in communicating the nature of unshared experience. This skill consists, in large measure, of the ability to bend your world view and adjust the way you categorize your experiences. Problems of mutual understanding are not exotic; they arise in all extended conversations where understanding is important.
When it really counts, meaning is almost never communicated according to the CONDUIT metaphor, that is, where one person transmits a fixed, clear proposition to another by means of expressions in a common language, where both parties have all the relevant common knowledge, assumptions, values, etc. When the chips are down, meaning is negotiated: you slowly figure out what you have in common, what it is safe to talk about, how you can communicate unshared experience or create a shared vision. With enough flexibility in bending your world view and with luck and charity, you may achieve some mutual understanding.
Communication theories based on the CONDUIT metaphor turn from the pathetic to the evil when they are applied indiscriminately on a large scale, say, in government surveillance or computerized files. There, what is most crucial for real understanding is almost never included, and it is assumed that the words in the file have meaning in themselves—disembodied, objective, understandable meaning. When a society lives by the CONDUITmetaphor on a large scale, misunderstanding, persecution, and much worse are the likely products.
Later, I realized that reviewing the history of nuclear physics served another purpose as well: It gave the lie to the naive belief that the physicists could have come together when nuclear fission was discovered (in Nazi Germany!) and agreed to keep the discovery a secret, thereby sparing humanity such a burden. No. Given the development of nuclear physics up to 1938, development that physicists throughout the world pursued in all innocence of any intention of finding the engine of a new weapon of mass destruction—only one of them, the remarkable Hungarian physicist Leo Szilard, took that possibility seriously—the discovery of nuclear fission was inevitable. To stop it, you would have had to stop physics. If German scientists hadn’t made the discovery when they did, French, American, Russian, Italian, or Danish scientists would have done so, almost certainly within days or weeks. They were all working at the same cutting edge, trying to understand the strange results of a simple experiment bombarding uranium with neutrons. Here was no Faustian bargain, as movie directors and other naifs still find it intellectually challenging to imagine. Here was no evil machinery that the noble scientists might hide from the problems and the generals. To the contrary, there was a high insight into how the world works, an energetic reaction, older than the earth, that science had finally devised the instruments and arrangements to coart forth. “Make it seem inevitable,” Louis Pasteur used to advise his students when they prepared to write up their discoveries. But it was. To wish that it might have been ignored or suppressed is barbarous. “Knowledge,” Niels Bohr once noted, “is itself the basis for civilization.” You cannot have the one without the other; the one depends upon the other. Nor can you have only benevolent knowledge; the scientific method doesn’t filter for benevolence. Knowledge has consequences, not always intended, not always comfortable, but always welcome. The earth revolves around the sun, not the sun around the earth. “It is a profound and necessary truth,” Robert Oppenheimer would say, “that the deep things in science are not found because they are useful; they are found because it was possible to find them.”
...Bohr proposed once that the goal of science is not universal truth. Rather, he argued, the modest but relentless goal of science is “the gradual removal of prejudices.” The discovery that the earth revolves around the sun has gradually removed the prejudice that the earth is the center of the universe. The discovery of microbes is gradually removing the prejudice that disease is a punishment from God. The discovery of evolution is gradually removing the prejudice that Homo sapiens is a separate and special creation.
For any natural number $k$, let $a_k = 3^k$. The smallest natural number $m$ for which \[ (a_1)^1 \times (a_2)^2 \times \dots \times (a_{20})^{20} \;<\; a_{21} \times a_{22} \times \dots \times a_{20+m} \] is: