I once allowed my name to be put forward for membership of the Political Economy Club, I heard no more of the proposal, and I have never written for the Economic Journal, though I have been for many years a member of the Society. My exclusion from organized academic economics has, therefore, been almost complete. I have already explained why this happened, and must have happened, as an inevitable consequence of an early heresy. Looking back, I do not now regret this exclusion from orthodox economic circles. For the mixed life of lecturing, controversial politics, and journalism into which I was driven, though in some ways damaging to orderly thinking, had compensations that were very valuable. Brought into touch with active leaders of political, economic, and ethical reform in various countries, I became increasingly aware of the common human element in these movements and of the distinctive part played by economic interests and urges. Nor was it only the experience of travel in various countries that enlarged my understanding of economic theory and processes, taking them out of the textbook mould and putting them in their proper human significance. During the most formative period of my thinking, I was fortunate in living near a little Surrey village sometimes described as “a nest of Socialists,” because Sydney Olivier, Edward Pease, and one or two other Fabians lived near by, and other “revolutionaries” were frequent residents or visitors. Kropotkin was one of the most remarkable figures,
