On this day in 1740, no doubt full of trepidation and excitement, Adam Smith set off from his home in Kirkcaldy, on the east coast of Scotland, to take up the ‘Snell Exhibition’ scholarship in Balliol College, Oxford. His time in Oxford would teach him much — though it would by no means enhance the reputation of Oxford in general and Balliol College in particular.
At school in Kirkcaldy, Smith’s passion for books and learning, along with his extraordinary memory, became apparent. He went on to Glasgow University at the age of 14, and studied under the great moral philosopher Francis Hutcheson – libertarian, rationalist, utilitarian, plain speaker and thorn in the side of authority. Hutcheson seems to have infected Smith with some of the same.
Oxford and incentives
Smith excelled, as he had done at school, and won the scholarship to Balliol College, Oxford. In 1740, now just 17, he saddled up for the month-long horseback journey. If thriving, commercial Glasgow had been an eye-opener to a boy from backward Kirkcaldy, England seemed quite a different world again. He wrote of the grandness of its architecture and the fatness of its cattle, quite unlike the poor specimens of his native Scotland.
But the English university education system did not impress him. Indeed, it gave him an important lesson on the power of incentives, which he would catalogue acidly in his great 1776 work of economics, The Wealth Of Nations.
Oxford teachers were paid directly from large college endowments, not from students’ fees as they were in Glasgow. It hardly encouraged their interest in their students. “In the University of Oxford,” wrote Smith later, “the greater part of the public professors have, for these many years, given up altogether even the pretence of teaching.”
Ouch. But it got worse.
College life, he observed was contrived “for the interest, or more properly speaking, for the ease of the masters.” There were disciplines aplenty on the students, but not on the teachers. In his words, “Where the masters, however, rarely perform their duty, there are no examples, I believe, that the greater part of the students ever neglect theirs. No discipline is ever requisite to force attendance upon lectures which are really worth the attending, as it well known wherever any such lectures are given.”
From this experience, Smith drew out a general principle of economics: “It is the interest of every man to live as much at his ease as he can; and if his emoluments are to be precisely the same, whether he does, or does not perform some very laborious duty, it is certainly his interest, at least as interest is vulgarly understood, either to neglect it altogether, or, if he is subject to some authority which will not suffer him to do this, to perform it in as careless and slovenly a manner as that authority will permit.”
And institutes like a university, he noted, indulge each other’s laziness. They “are likely to make a common cause, to be all very indulgent to one another, and every man to consent that his neighbour may neglect his duty, provided he himself is allowed to neglect his own.”
Smith, then, learnt little from his Oxford teachers. Yet, thanks to Balliol’s world-class library and his own love of reading and learning, Smith was able to educate himself in the classics, literature, and other subjects. He left Oxford in 1746, before the expiry of his scholarship, to return to Kirkcaldy, where he began to write essays and articles that would make his reputation and launch his academic career — a career that would culminate with these insights on economic incentives and the cutting rebuke of the system that had so let him down.