Fifteen Percent-Off Friday: December

Happy Friday! As with last month, we are excited to offer a 15 percent discount on an MIT Press title to our blog readers (when purchased through the MIT Press website). Our December discount pick is Something for Nothing, a novel by Michael W. Klein, William L. Clayton Professor of International Economic Affairs at the Fletcher School, Tufts University. Follow this link, which will automatically apply the discount, to get your copy of Something for Nothing just in time for the holidays. *In the (unlikely) event that the discount doesn't appear when you click the link, have no fear--simply manually enter the discount code "kleinreads11" in the shopping cart to get the discount.*

Here's an excerpt from Something for Nothing to whet your appetite. Check back on the first Friday of January (1/6/12) for our next "Fifteen Percent-Off Friday" pick.

David sat at a table in the kitchen of the apartment he had rented, his laptop and a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. Even on a visiting professor’s salary, he could afford a decent one-bedroom apartment in Knittersville, one that was large and sunny, at least as compared to the single room in Manhattan that had served as office, bedroom, and living room when he was a graduate student at Columbia. The apartment, one of six in the building, was also only five blocks from campus, and a ten-minute walk to his office in Central Hall. This proximity was especially welcome today since it was already 9:00 and the first meeting of his Principles of Economics class would begin in a little more than an hour.

Time was pressing because of his typical close attention to detail. He was a little obsessive, sure, but his attention to detail in this case seemed warranted. After all, this was the first class offered here, or anywhere, by Professor David Fox, PhD. Of course, obsession does not come without its traveling companion, stress. After a restless night with dreams of classrooms filled with obstructed views, chalkboards that could not be written upon, and lectures made while attired only in underwear, he got out of bed at 6:00. The cup of coffee sitting in front of him was his fourth that morning. He had also gone through more clothes changes in the past three hours than in any given three-day period when he was a graduate student.

The first choice was a white shirt and striped regiment tie. Reconsidering his tie choice, he went through most all of his (admittedly meager) neckwear portfolio. He settled, or thought he had settled, on a black tie with a subtle textured pattern. But, after some inspection, it was clear that the pattern was too subtle and the black tie would cause students to think that, right after class, he would be going to a funeral. This certainly would not work in his favor, since sympathy is a cheap and ultimately ineffectual way to try to get on the good side of students. He then changed to a black shirt with the black tie to go for a monochromatic effect, a proven look, but perhaps one that had become a bit clichéd and, for that reason, desperate. Students can sense desperation in professors’ efforts to be cool in the same way that sharks sense blood in the water, and with much the same ultimate outcome. So, after some more consideration, a return to the original white shirt and striped regiment tie combination. Of course, this entire protracted decision-making process was the natural follow-up to his internal discussion last night that weighed the subtle messages that were conveyed by not wearing a tie (either “Hey kids, I’m not that much older than you, and I can relate to you” or “Hey, that professor’s not much older than us, so he probably doesn’t know what he’s doing”) versus those that would be sent were he to don one (“I’m the professor. You can tell because I’m dressed like a grown-up.”)

After so much time spent on style, David’s attention turned for one last time to substance. First lines, like first impressions, are vital. Beginning with demand and supply, the Romulus and Remus of economics, would make students’ eyes glaze and make him seem like some uncool middle-aged professor (Could he somehow let on to the students that he was only 28? Should he?). He considered beginning his Principles of Economics class with the sentence “All of economics is about making choices.” But, when he looked up and saw the ties littering the chair across from him, he decided to try another tack.