"A Meeting of Minds: Jane Austen and Adam Smith
"The year was 1815, and Jane Austen had just published Emma,
her fourth novel. She was staying in London briefly, having been invited to a
salon hosted by an eccentric patron of the arts who prided himself on gathering
great minds under one roof. Among the distinguished guests was Adam Smith, the
aging Scottish economist and philosopher, whose The Theory of Moral
Sentiments had profoundly influenced many thinkers since its publication in
1759. [Smith actually died in 1790]
Austen, initially reluctant to attend, was intrigued when
she learned Smith would be present. Though she had only recently encountered
his work, she found his exploration of human sympathy and moral behavior
fascinating, particularly in light of her own literary focus on social
relationships and individual character.
The evening was lively, with clusters of conversation
filling the room. When Austen was finally introduced to Smith, she curtsied
respectfully, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. His once-vibrant eyes
had dimmed with age, but his mind remained sharp.
“Miss Austen,” he began, his Scottish brogue softened by
years of academic discourse, “I understand you are the author of novels much
admired for their keen observation of society.”
“Indeed, sir,” she replied with a smile. “Though I am but an
amateur in such matters compared to a philosopher of your stature. Your Theory
of Moral Sentiments has given me much to consider.”
Smith’s expression brightened. “Ah, I am heartened to hear
it. And tell me, what insights have you drawn from my humble musings?”
Austen hesitated briefly before responding. “Your
exploration of sympathy as the foundation of moral judgment struck me deeply.
It seems to align with my own observations—that our capacity to imagine the
feelings of others governs much of our conduct. Yet I wonder, do you believe
that sympathy alone can sustain a just society? What of self-interest, which so
often drives human action?”
Smith chuckled, a low, gravelly sound. “A fair question,
Miss Austen, and one that has plagued many readers of my work. While sympathy
is the cornerstone of moral virtue, self-interest, when tempered by societal
norms and institutions, can lead to prosperity and stability. As I later argued
in The Wealth of Nations, these forces are not at odds but
complementary.”
Austen nodded thoughtfully. “Your argument reminds me of the
tension between individual desires and societal expectations that I often
depict in my novels. Take, for instance, Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and
Prejudice. Her decisions are shaped by her moral compass, yet she must
navigate the rigid social structures of her time. Would you say that such a
character embodies the balance between sympathy and self-interest?”
Smith stroked his chin, visibly impressed. “An astute
comparison, Miss Austen. Elizabeth’s refusal to marry for convenience, despite
societal pressure, exemplifies a moral fortitude guided by sympathy for her own
happiness and that of others. Yet her eventual union with Mr. Darcy
demonstrates how mutual respect and self-interest can align to benefit all
parties.”
Encouraged by his approval, Austen continued, “Your emphasis
on the ‘impartial spectator’—the internal voice guiding our moral
decisions—resonates with me. I strive to create characters whose inner
struggles are as vivid as their external conflicts. Do you think such
introspection is universal, or is it cultivated by one’s environment?”
Smith leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. “It is
both, I believe. The seeds of introspection are sown within us, but they are
nurtured by education, culture, and experience. Your novels, with their sharp
portrayals of character, surely contribute to this cultivation by holding a
mirror to society.”
The conversation flowed on, touching on topics ranging from
economic inequality to the role of literature in shaping moral understanding.
As the evening waned, Austen felt a deep sense of gratitude for the exchange.
Smith’s insights had enriched her perspective, and she suspected her novels
had, in turn, offered him a glimpse of the world through her discerning eyes.
When they parted, Smith clasped her hand warmly. “Miss
Austen, it has been a pleasure to converse with a mind as incisive as your own.
I daresay the world of letters and the world of philosophy are not so far apart
as one might think.”
“And I, sir, am honored to have learned from a philosopher
whose works illuminate the complexities of human nature,” Austen replied with a
curtsy.
As she walked into the crisp night air, Austen reflected on
their discussion. The interplay between sympathy and self-interest, between
societal expectations and personal integrity, would linger in her thoughts—and
perhaps, she mused, find its way into her next novel."
This fine book by the professors of economics Cecil E. Bohanon and Michelle Albert Vachris is a step forward because they present the full picture of the problem in the following sense: they go over all the novels by Austen and indicate what they call the “intersections” of her ideas and Smith’s in order to prove that she “embellishes, refines, and explains Adam Smith” (p. 4).
A few months ago, 
