Paul Krugman

Paul Krugman was my PhD advisor when I was a graduate student at Princeton. I first got to know him (in person) when he taught me the PhD course on international trade. I had many lively conversations with him in class, which inspired me to seek him out as my thesis supervisor. He accepted my request. However, given his status as a columnist for the New York Times and public intellectual, he was scarce on time.

People often ask me what it was like having him as an advisor. Although he has a reputation in the profession as someone that can be abrasive and confrontational (especially with people with whom he disagrees), he was always nice to me. It was a routine when we met at his office for him to rifle through the many books sent to him for his critique and comments, and he would pass many of them on to me — including copies of his own books.

As a mind, he was amazingly brilliant and able to offer insights and solutions to problems in a matter of seconds, when I had struggled for days or weeks on them. Regardless of anyone’s opinions about his politics, the man is a true genius.

One funny story stands out in my relationship with Krugman. He was teaching an undergraduate course in economics one year when the lead preceptor (teaching assistant) for his class happened to be a good friend with whom I shared an office in the economics building.

One day that friend had left a copy of the exam answer key on his desk unattended and in full sight just before the test. Students would sometimes come in and out of our office for office hours. Given the security issue, I took the exam solutions and slipped it inside the drawer next to his desk, away from the potential eyes of students. I then left a written note on his desk chiding him for being so careless: “Thanks for a sneak peek at the exam solutions. Sincerely, Undergraduate Student.” It was obviously a joke, and I often pranked my friend in such ways, and wanted to remind him to be more careful.

I then left the office, heading back to my place to meet friends as we had planned a trip to Montreal. However, just before departing for the road trip, I noticed that I was missing my passport. I went back to the office thinking that I might have left it there.

When I returned, the economics administration was in a panic. My friend had apparently returned, saw the note, thought it was real, and reported it to Krugman and the chairman of the department, Gene Grossman (who would ultimately be a member on my dissertation committee). The examination was almost cancelled but went ahead only after much hand wringing. Krugman and the department chair were both on edge until I came along and explained the situation.

But it was too late.

The matter had already been referred to the dean and it was no longer just a departmental affair. The whole university administration was now involved because they believed that an exam had been compromised.

I was ultimately brought in before Dean Redman. He made me write apology letters to, among others, Gene Grossman and Paul Krugman, over the incident. This made my subsequent meetings with Krugman a bit awkward, although he never brought it up.

Fast forward a few years later (2008), after some hiccups in my dissertation process, I was able to manage the logistics of getting Krugman to lead / attend my PhD defence — no minor feat considering his schedule.

Indeed, the timing was fortuitous. Several months later, Krugman was awarded the Nobel Prize in Economics (for his work on international trade, although he could have easily won it for several other topics), and his celebrity status skyrocketed from an already-high level.

I suspect that it would have been next to impossible to chase him down to sit in on my defence if it were to happen after his being awarded the Nobel.