A Beautiful Mind Part 15

Manfred Bleuler, a German psychiatrist, was the first researcher to systematically challenge this view.15 In a twenty-year follow-up of more than two hundred patients, he found 20 percent "fully recovered." Moreover, he concluded that long-lasting recoveries did not result from treatment and hence appeared to be spontaneous. In a twenty-year follow-up of more than two hundred patients, he found 20 percent "fully recovered." Moreover, he concluded that long-lasting recoveries did not result from treatment and hence appeared to be spontaneous.

Then a German team at the University of Bonn did a long-term follow-up of patients who had been admitted to one of the city's psychiatric hospitals during the late 1940s and early 1950s.16 Going back to the records, they reviewed the diagnosis of schizophrenia and chose only patients whose histories and symptoms were consistent with modern definitions of the disease. There were about five hundred. Then they located the people or their families and, through interviews with the patients and people who knew them, created detailed portraits of what had happened to them. Going back to the records, they reviewed the diagnosis of schizophrenia and chose only patients whose histories and symptoms were consistent with modern definitions of the disease. There were about five hundred. Then they located the people or their families and, through interviews with the patients and people who knew them, created detailed portraits of what had happened to them.

Many - about a quarter - had died, mostly suicides. Some were still inst.i.tutionalized, apparently unresponsive to any drugs or to electroshock treatment, which was used far more extensively than in the United States. Another group was living with their families, but still had symptoms, especially the negative symptoms of lethargy, lack of drive, and lack of interest and pleasure in life. But a surprisingly large group - perhaps a quarter - seemed to be symptom-free, living independently, with a circle of friends and jobs in the professions for which they had been trained or had held before they got sick. Most of these had not been under the care of a physician for years.

The researchers were extremely surprised. As news of the study results spread through the small global community of schizophrenia researchers, a team in the United States at the University of Vermont decided to undertake a similar long-term study. Despite their initial skepticism, their results were remarkably similar.17 Ten years after the disease struck, most patients were still extremely sick. Thirty years later, however, a significant minority were leading fairly normal lives. Only about 5 percent conformed completely to the backward image. Most of those who committed suicide, it turned out, did so in the first ten years of the disease. These appeared to be people who got well enough between acute episodes to appreciate the awfulness of what lay ahead of them and succ.u.mbed to despair. And most of the damage to thinking and emotion from the disease seemed to occur in those years as well. After that, symptoms seemed to level out. Ten years after the disease struck, most patients were still extremely sick. Thirty years later, however, a significant minority were leading fairly normal lives. Only about 5 percent conformed completely to the backward image. Most of those who committed suicide, it turned out, did so in the first ten years of the disease. These appeared to be people who got well enough between acute episodes to appreciate the awfulness of what lay ahead of them and succ.u.mbed to despair. And most of the damage to thinking and emotion from the disease seemed to occur in those years as well. After that, symptoms seemed to level out.

Subsequent research has somewhat tempered these optimistic conclusions.18 All long-term studies are plagued by uncertainties about diagnoses and by differences over what const.i.tutes "recovery." A study by Winokur and Tsuang of 170 All long-term studies are plagued by uncertainties about diagnoses and by differences over what const.i.tutes "recovery." A study by Winokur and Tsuang of 170 patients, perhaps the most rigorous, found that thirty years after the onset of the illness, just 8 percent could be considered well. patients, perhaps the most rigorous, found that thirty years after the onset of the illness, just 8 percent could be considered well.19 Thus, while Nash's dramatic recovery is not unique, it is relatively rare.

While none of the studies was able to pinpoint factors that favored recovery, they suggest that someone with Nash's history prior to the onset of his illness - high social cla.s.s, high IQ, high achievement, with no schizophrenic relatives, who gets the disease relatively late in the third decade, who experiences very acute symptoms early and gets sick at the time of some great life change - has the best chance of remission.20 On the other hand, young men like Nash for whom the contrast between early achievement and the state to which they are reduced by the disease is greatest are also most likely to commit suicide. Since suicides are relatively rare for hospitalized patients, Martha may have saved Nash's life by insisting, during the 1960s, that he be hospitalized. Whether or not insulin shock and antipsychotic drugs, which apparently produced the temporary remissions Nash experienced in the first half of the 1960s, increased the odds of a remission later in life is unclear. While a larger number of patients who got sick during the 1950s, when antipsychotic drugs became available on a wide scale, were among those who were symptom free in late middle age, early treatment with drugs wasn't a particularly accurate indicator of what would happen later. On the other hand, young men like Nash for whom the contrast between early achievement and the state to which they are reduced by the disease is greatest are also most likely to commit suicide. Since suicides are relatively rare for hospitalized patients, Martha may have saved Nash's life by insisting, during the 1960s, that he be hospitalized. Whether or not insulin shock and antipsychotic drugs, which apparently produced the temporary remissions Nash experienced in the first half of the 1960s, increased the odds of a remission later in life is unclear. While a larger number of patients who got sick during the 1950s, when antipsychotic drugs became available on a wide scale, were among those who were symptom free in late middle age, early treatment with drugs wasn't a particularly accurate indicator of what would happen later.21 At the same time, Nash's refusal to take the antipsychotic drugs after 1970, and indeed during most of the periods when he wasn't in the hospital during the 1960s, may have been fortunate. Taken regularly, such drugs, in a high percentage of cases, produce horrible, persistent symptoms like tardive dyskinesia - stiffening of head and neck muscles and involuntary movements, including of the tongue - and a mental fog, all of which would have made his gentle reentry into the world of mathematics a near impossibility. At the same time, Nash's refusal to take the antipsychotic drugs after 1970, and indeed during most of the periods when he wasn't in the hospital during the 1960s, may have been fortunate. Taken regularly, such drugs, in a high percentage of cases, produce horrible, persistent symptoms like tardive dyskinesia - stiffening of head and neck muscles and involuntary movements, including of the tongue - and a mental fog, all of which would have made his gentle reentry into the world of mathematics a near impossibility.22 Nash's remission did not come about, as many people later a.s.sumed, because of some new treatment. "I emerged from irrational thinking," he said in 1996, "ultimately, without medicine other than the natural hormonal changes of aging."23 He described the process as one that involved both a growing awareness of the sterility of his delusional state and a growing capacity for rejecting delusional thought. He wrote in 1995: Gradually I began to intellectually reject some of the delusionally influenced lines of thinking which had been characteristic of my orientation. This began, most recognizably, with the rejection of politically-oriented thinking as essentially a hopeless waste of intellectual effort.24

He believes, rightly or wrongly, that he willed his own recovery: Actually, it can be a.n.a.logous to the role of willpower in effectively dieting: if one makes an effort to "rationalize" one's thinking then one can simply recognize and reject the irrational hypotheses of delusional thinking. Actually, it can be a.n.a.logous to the role of willpower in effectively dieting: if one makes an effort to "rationalize" one's thinking then one can simply recognize and reject the irrational hypotheses of delusional thinking.25

"A key step was a resolution not to concern myself in politics relative to my secret world because it was ineffectual," he wrote in his n.o.bel autobiography. "This in turn led me to renounce anything relative to religious issues, or teaching or intending to teach.

"I began to study mathematical problems and to learn the computer as it existed at the time. I was helped (by mathematicians who got me computer time)."26 By the late 1980s, Nash's name was appearing in the t.i.tles of dozens of articles in leading economics journals.27 But Nash himself remained in obscurity. Many younger researchers, of course, simply a.s.sumed he was dead. Others thought that he was languishing in a mental hospital or had heard that he had a lobotomy. But Nash himself remained in obscurity. Many younger researchers, of course, simply a.s.sumed he was dead. Others thought that he was languishing in a mental hospital or had heard that he had a lobotomy.28 Even the best-informed saw him, for the most part, as a sort of ghost. In particular, with the exception of the 1978 von Neumann Prize - the result of Lloyd Shapley's efforts - the recognition and honors routinely accorded scholars of his stature simply failed to materialize.29 One particularly egregious episode in the academic year 198788 ill.u.s.trated just how powerfully the perceptions of Nash's mental illness worked to reinforce his marginalized status, even in the field, economics, that he had helped to revolutionize. One particularly egregious episode in the academic year 198788 ill.u.s.trated just how powerfully the perceptions of Nash's mental illness worked to reinforce his marginalized status, even in the field, economics, that he had helped to revolutionize.

Being elected a Fellow in the Econometric Society is, as one former president of the society put it, tantamount to getting one's membership card in the club of bona-fide economic theorists.30 By 1987, there were some 350 living Fellows, including every past and future n.o.bel Laureate to date but Dougla.s.s North (presumably excluded because he is an economic historian, not a mathematical economist), as well as every leading contributor to game theory - Kuhn, Shapley, Shubik, Aumann, Harsanyi, Selten, and so forth - but not Nash. By 1987, there were some 350 living Fellows, including every past and future n.o.bel Laureate to date but Dougla.s.s North (presumably excluded because he is an economic historian, not a mathematical economist), as well as every leading contributor to game theory - Kuhn, Shapley, Shubik, Aumann, Harsanyi, Selten, and so forth - but not Nash.31 In late 1988, Ariel Rubinstein, a recently elected Fellow, was surprised to discover this "historic mistake" and promptly nominated Nash. In late 1988, Ariel Rubinstein, a recently elected Fellow, was surprised to discover this "historic mistake" and promptly nominated Nash.32 The nomination came too late for the November 1989 election. Further, the society's bylaws required any candidate proposed by a sole sponsor to pa.s.s muster with the society's five-member nominating committee - one of whose main tasks was, in any case, to "determine whether previous nominating committees had overlooked people" and to correct such oversights.33 As a result, the nomination was forwarded to the committee, which took it up in the spring of 1989. By then, Rubinstein, a game theorist who holds professorships at the University of Tel Aviv and Princeton University, was a member of the committee. The other members, all professors of economics, were Mervyn King at the London School of Economics (also a vice-chairman of the Bank of England), Beth Allen at the University of Minnesota, Gary Chamberlain at Harvard, and Truman Bewley at Yale. As a result, the nomination was forwarded to the committee, which took it up in the spring of 1989. By then, Rubinstein, a game theorist who holds professorships at the University of Tel Aviv and Princeton University, was a member of the committee. The other members, all professors of economics, were Mervyn King at the London School of Economics (also a vice-chairman of the Bank of England), Beth Allen at the University of Minnesota, Gary Chamberlain at Harvard, and Truman Bewley at Yale.34 The proposal to put Nash on the ballot sparked an intense controversy between Rubinstein and the rest of the committee, one that dragged on for months. From the start, the issue was Nash's mental illness. Mervyn King said in 1996: "People felt in some vague sense this was relevant."35 Other committee members pointed out that Nash had no recent publications, was not even a member of the society, and was unlikely to partic.i.p.ate actively, if elected. Other committee members pointed out that Nash had no recent publications, was not even a member of the society, and was unlikely to partic.i.p.ate actively, if elected.36 At one point Truman Bewley, the committee's chairman, wrote to Rubinstein, "I doubt [Nash] would be elected, since he is well known to have been crazy for years," dismissing the nomination as "frivolous." At one point Truman Bewley, the committee's chairman, wrote to Rubinstein, "I doubt [Nash] would be elected, since he is well known to have been crazy for years," dismissing the nomination as "frivolous."37 When Rubinstein refused to back down, Bewley asked him to find out more about "the current status of Nash's health." After Rubinstein objected that no other candidates were being similarly investigated, Bewley made his own inquiries, calling, among others, his colleague at Yale Martin Shubik, who had known Nash in graduate school and had received some of Nash's "mad" letters. Bewley reported back to the committee: "Regarding Nash, I inquired and learned that he is still crazy. Fellowship is an activity more than a reward for past work. The fellows are the ultimate governing body of the Econometric Society." When Rubinstein refused to back down, Bewley asked him to find out more about "the current status of Nash's health." After Rubinstein objected that no other candidates were being similarly investigated, Bewley made his own inquiries, calling, among others, his colleague at Yale Martin Shubik, who had known Nash in graduate school and had received some of Nash's "mad" letters. Bewley reported back to the committee: "Regarding Nash, I inquired and learned that he is still crazy. Fellowship is an activity more than a reward for past work. The fellows are the ultimate governing body of the Econometric Society."38 In June, the committee voted four to one to keep Nash off the November 1989 ballot. Rubinstein was the sole dissenter. Beth Allen recalled, "People were asked to give a rank ordering. Nash didn't make it. Ariel had a fit. He insisted Nash be put on the ballot anyway." Bewley made it clear that the matter was closed, a decision he later regretted. "It was the wrong decision," he said in 1996.39 The episode is reminiscent of the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study's refusal, for many years, to grant a mathematics professorship to the world-renowned logician Kurt G.o.del. The episode is reminiscent of the Inst.i.tute for Advanced Study's refusal, for many years, to grant a mathematics professorship to the world-renowned logician Kurt G.o.del.40 But, in that case, there was considerably more justification, since the Inst.i.tute's tiny mathematics faculty feared that G.o.del's well-known paranoia and terror of decision-making would hamstring its ability to conduct business, which included the selection of each year's visiting scholars. But, in that case, there was considerably more justification, since the Inst.i.tute's tiny mathematics faculty feared that G.o.del's well-known paranoia and terror of decision-making would hamstring its ability to conduct business, which included the selection of each year's visiting scholars.41 The crowning irony of this affair is that when Nash did get on the ballot, in the election for 1990 (because Rubinstein circ.u.mvented the nominating committee by submitting a joint nomination with Kenneth Binmore, at the University of Michigan, and Roger Myerson, at Northwestern University),42 he received, according to the Secretary of the society, Julie Gordon, "the overwhelming majority of the votes." he received, according to the Secretary of the society, Julie Gordon, "the overwhelming majority of the votes."43

CHAPTER 48

The Prize

You will have to wait to find out [the story of Nash s prize] in fifty years. We will never reveal it. - CARL-OLOF J JACOBSON, secretary general Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, February 1997 secretary general Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, February 1997 IT IS T TUESDAY, October 12, 1994. Jorgen Weibull, a personable young professor of economics, looks at his watch for perhaps the fiftieth time. October 12, 1994. Jorgen Weibull, a personable young professor of economics, looks at his watch for perhaps the fiftieth time.1 He is standing near the front of the ma.s.sive Sessions Hall of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences - a jewelbox of a room with a heavily ornamented ceiling and portrait-lined walls - which, at the moment, is crowded with reporters and camera crews, jammed in narrow aisles between the U-shaped tables. Near-pandemonium reigns. Everybody is milling around, speculating in loud voices about the delay. He is standing near the front of the ma.s.sive Sessions Hall of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences - a jewelbox of a room with a heavily ornamented ceiling and portrait-lined walls - which, at the moment, is crowded with reporters and camera crews, jammed in narrow aisles between the U-shaped tables. Near-pandemonium reigns. Everybody is milling around, speculating in loud voices about the delay.

Weibull had been so elated when he left his office at the University of Stockholm that midmorning that he half walked, half ran through the highway underpa.s.s and up the hill to the academy half a mile away. a.s.sar Lindbeck, the chairman of the prize committee, had asked him if he wouldn't mind being on hand to answer questions at the press conference - quite an honor. But now Weibull's mouth feels dry, his shoulders ache, and he can feel the first twinges of a headache as he tries to imagine what has gone wrong.

The n.o.bel press conference had, as usual, been called for eleven-thirty. These staid, heavily scripted events are always held right after the final, ceremonial vote and always always start on time. But it is one o'clock and there is no sign of any academy officials and no word either. All the reporters are saying that nothing like this has ever happened before. start on time. But it is one o'clock and there is no sign of any academy officials and no word either. All the reporters are saying that nothing like this has ever happened before.

Suddenly, the enormous doors to his left swing open and a small knot of academy officials burst into the hall, all wearing slightly dazed expressions, like moviegoers stepping out of a theater into daylight. They hurry past the milling, shouting throng, ignoring the questions, brushing aside the demands for explanations. But Weibull, who is standing near the table with the microphones, manages to catch Lindbeck's eye for a fraction of a second. The relief is overwhelming. "Lindbeck didn't signal or anything like that," he said later, "but I saw right away that everything had turned out all right."2 And the relief turns into something like joy when he listens to Carl-Olof Jacobson, the academy's handsome, silver-haired And the relief turns into something like joy when he listens to Carl-Olof Jacobson, the academy's handsome, silver-haired secretary general, read the first few words of the press release: "John Forbes Nash, Jr., of Princeton, New Jersey ..." secretary general, read the first few words of the press release: "John Forbes Nash, Jr., of Princeton, New Jersey ..."3 The behind-the-scenes saga of John Nash's n.o.bel Prize is almost as extraordinary as the fact that the mathematician became a Laureate at all. For years after the idea of a prize for game theory was first considered, even Nash's most ardent admirers considered the likelihood of his winning impossibly remote.4 But much later, when the prize was virtually his, after he had been told that he had won it, and within an hour of the official notification, the But much later, when the prize was virtually his, after he had been told that he had won it, and within an hour of the official notification, the ne plus ultra ne plus ultra of honors very nearly eluded him - with far-reaching consequences for the future of the economics prize itself. of honors very nearly eluded him - with far-reaching consequences for the future of the economics prize itself.

This previously untold story is one that the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences and the n.o.bel Foundation - intent on preserving the Olympian aura that surrounds the prizes - have tried very hard to keep under wraps. The academy is one of the most secretive of societies, and all details - the nominations, inquiries, deliberations, and votes - of the lengthy selection process are among the most closely guarded secrets in the world. The very statutes of the prize demand it: Proposals received for the award of a prize, and investigations and opinions concerning the award of a prize may not be divulged. Should divergent opinions have been expressed in connection with the decision of the prize-winning body concerning the award of the prize, these may not be included in the record or otherwise divulged. A prize-winning body may, however, after due consideration in each individual case, permit access to material which formed the basis for evaluation and decision concerning a prize, for purposes of historical research. Such permission may not be granted until at least 50 years have elapsed after the date on which the decision in question was taken.5

There have been breaches, of course. In the 1960s and 1970s, advance rumors of the literature Laureates used to trickle out of the Academy of Arts and Letters with notorious regularity.6 In 1994, a member of the Norewegian n.o.bel Committee quit over the impending peace prize to the Palestinian leader Yasir Arafat, and took his protest to the media. Michael Sohlman, the executive director of the n.o.bel Foundation, still sounds furious when he recounts the incident. In 1994, a member of the Norewegian n.o.bel Committee quit over the impending peace prize to the Palestinian leader Yasir Arafat, and took his protest to the media. Michael Sohlman, the executive director of the n.o.bel Foundation, still sounds furious when he recounts the incident.7 But, few, if any, cracks have appeared, figuratively or otherwise, in the gray Beaux Arts walls of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, guardian of the physics, chemistry, and economics prizes. If not for the mysterious one-and-a-half-hour delay on the day that the Nash prize was announced, the academy might well have succeeded in protecting the secrecy of the process. As it was, academy officials not only refused to explain the delay but denied that it was in any way significant. Indeed, they very quickly began to a.s.sert that it had never happened. Recently, Karl-Goran Maler, a member of the economics prize committee in 1994 and privy to all of the events that transpired, said, "I do not recall Karl-Goran Maler, a member of the economics prize committee in 1994 and privy to all of the events that transpired, said, "I do not recall any any delay." delay."8 The prize in economics is something of a stepchild.9 Alfred n.o.bel, the Swedish industrialist and inventor, did not have the dismal science in mind when he wrote his famous 1894 will creating n.o.bel Prizes in physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and peace. The economics prize was not created until nearly seventy years later, the brainchild of the then head of the Swedish central bank. The prize is financed by the bank and administered by the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences and the n.o.bel Foundation. It is not, in fact, a n.o.bel Prize, but rather "The Central Bank of Sweden Prize in Economic Science in Memory of Alfred n.o.bel." To the public, that is a distinction without much of a difference. The early winners of the economics prize - among them Paul Samuelson, Kenneth Arrow, and Gunnar Myrdal - were generally acknowledged to be intellectual giants and lent their distinction to the prize. And, so far at least, it has become "the ultimate symbol of excellence for scientists and laymen alike" and does in fact make economics n.o.bel-ists "life peers in the world community of scholars." Alfred n.o.bel, the Swedish industrialist and inventor, did not have the dismal science in mind when he wrote his famous 1894 will creating n.o.bel Prizes in physics, chemistry, medicine, literature, and peace. The economics prize was not created until nearly seventy years later, the brainchild of the then head of the Swedish central bank. The prize is financed by the bank and administered by the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences and the n.o.bel Foundation. It is not, in fact, a n.o.bel Prize, but rather "The Central Bank of Sweden Prize in Economic Science in Memory of Alfred n.o.bel." To the public, that is a distinction without much of a difference. The early winners of the economics prize - among them Paul Samuelson, Kenneth Arrow, and Gunnar Myrdal - were generally acknowledged to be intellectual giants and lent their distinction to the prize. And, so far at least, it has become "the ultimate symbol of excellence for scientists and laymen alike" and does in fact make economics n.o.bel-ists "life peers in the world community of scholars."10 The criteria, rules, and procedures for the economics prize are patterned after those that apply to the science prizes.11 Candidates must be living. No more than three can share a prize, which is less of a problem in economics than in physical science, where teamwork is more the norm. Though many people, even those who partic.i.p.ate in the nominating process, have failed to appreciate it, the n.o.bel is not a prize for outstanding individuals nor is it a lifetime achievement award. The prize is awarded for specific achievements, inventions, and discoveries. These can be theories, a.n.a.lytical methods, or purely empirical results. As in physics, in which mathematics plays as big a role as in economics, there is a strong bias against prizes for only mathematics. Candidates must be living. No more than three can share a prize, which is less of a problem in economics than in physical science, where teamwork is more the norm. Though many people, even those who partic.i.p.ate in the nominating process, have failed to appreciate it, the n.o.bel is not a prize for outstanding individuals nor is it a lifetime achievement award. The prize is awarded for specific achievements, inventions, and discoveries. These can be theories, a.n.a.lytical methods, or purely empirical results. As in physics, in which mathematics plays as big a role as in economics, there is a strong bias against prizes for only mathematics.12 (n.o.bel himself is said to have hated mathematicians, though some of the best stories about why - revolving around s.e.xual and professional jealousy - turn out to have been apocryphal). (n.o.bel himself is said to have hated mathematicians, though some of the best stories about why - revolving around s.e.xual and professional jealousy - turn out to have been apocryphal).13'

The prize selection process is also virtually identical to the cycles for the science prizes.14 A five-member prize committee, composed of senior Swedish economists, gathers nominations and referees reports from elite academics around the world. The committee makes its choice every spring, usually in April. The so-called Social Sciences Cla.s.s - all academy members in economics and other social sciences - endorses the candidate or candidates in early fall, usually late August or early September. And the academy votes on the nominees in early October, on the day that the winner or winners are announced. A five-member prize committee, composed of senior Swedish economists, gathers nominations and referees reports from elite academics around the world. The committee makes its choice every spring, usually in April. The so-called Social Sciences Cla.s.s - all academy members in economics and other social sciences - endorses the candidate or candidates in early fall, usually late August or early September. And the academy votes on the nominees in early October, on the day that the winner or winners are announced.

On paper, at least, all the members of the prize committee are as distinguished as the candidates, and the selection of winners is a detached, disinterested, and, ultimately, democratic exercise in scientific judgment - as divorced from personal likes and dislikes, prejudices, or political and pecuniary considerations as the business of determining the winners in a sports tournament. There is some, even a good deal, of truth in this idealized description of what actually goes on, but it is not anything like the whole story. good deal, of truth in this idealized description of what actually goes on, but it is not anything like the whole story.

a.s.sar Lindbeck, who joined the prize committee in 1969 and became its chairman in 1980, has dominated the economics selections for the entire history of the n.o.bel Prize.15 Tall, red-haired, powerfully built, he looks like the boss of a machine tool shop or a mine. He is from the far north of Sweden, a little crude, a little uptight, more than a little brusque. He has opinions, strong ones, about nearly all topics that engage his lively mind, and as a result is quite unpopular in the academy. But he is not without a certain earthy charm. His sense of humor is sly and dry. He is a Sunday painter - showing up at prize committee meetings with paint spatters on his horn-rimmed gla.s.ses. A large - and extremely graphic - erotic painting hangs in his office at the university. Tall, red-haired, powerfully built, he looks like the boss of a machine tool shop or a mine. He is from the far north of Sweden, a little crude, a little uptight, more than a little brusque. He has opinions, strong ones, about nearly all topics that engage his lively mind, and as a result is quite unpopular in the academy. But he is not without a certain earthy charm. His sense of humor is sly and dry. He is a Sunday painter - showing up at prize committee meetings with paint spatters on his horn-rimmed gla.s.ses. A large - and extremely graphic - erotic painting hangs in his office at the university.

Lindbeck is Sweden's most important economist. Top academic economists in Sweden, where academia, government, and industry have long been closely entwined, have traditionally wielded a great deal more political power than their American counterparts.16 Bertil Ohlin, the committee's first chairman, was for years the leader of Sweden's opposition. Gunnar Myrdal, who won the prize in 1974, was a minister in the Social Democratic government. Lindbeck himself was a protege of Prime Minister Olof Palme, has held many political advisory posts, and has been involved in most public policy debates since the 1960s. Bertil Ohlin, the committee's first chairman, was for years the leader of Sweden's opposition. Gunnar Myrdal, who won the prize in 1974, was a minister in the Social Democratic government. Lindbeck himself was a protege of Prime Minister Olof Palme, has held many political advisory posts, and has been involved in most public policy debates since the 1960s.

Unlike Ohlin and Myrdal, Lindbeck never abandoned his research career to become a full-time politician. Indeed, he is generally considered a likely contender for a n.o.bel himself. Even today, at age sixty-eight, there is a small a.s.sembly line on the shelves behind his desk at the University of Stockholm: impressively large piles of paper marked "Articles Under Preparation," "Articles Submitted," and "Articles Accepted." And he has used his political savvy and prestige to build up economics departments and research inst.i.tutes. "He's kind of a mafia leader, a fixer," said Karl-Gustaf Lofgren, an adjunct member of the economics prize committee and a professor of resource economics at the University of Umea.17 He adds: He adds: I never did any resource economics, but I became a professor of resource economics. [Lindbeck] has good ideas about who to move here and there. He listens. He has his own opinions. I like him. He's a very sound guy. Very smart.

Lindbeck has a reputation for getting his way. His style is that of a central banker rather than a chief executive officer. As his longtime friend Maler put it, "a.s.sar never controlled with commands."18 In an article Lindbeck wrote on the economic prize in the mid-1980s, he bragged: "So far the proposals of the prize committee to the Academy have been unanimous. A consensus has in fact developed quite 'automatically' within the committee, as if by some kind of invisible In an article Lindbeck wrote on the economic prize in the mid-1980s, he bragged: "So far the proposals of the prize committee to the Academy have been unanimous. A consensus has in fact developed quite 'automatically' within the committee, as if by some kind of invisible hand, after intensive discussions." hand, after intensive discussions."19 The invisible hand, of course, was his own. "You The invisible hand, of course, was his own. "You could could put it that way," said Lofgren, laughing. "You can put it that way," said Lofgren, laughing. "You can say say it's unanimous... . But he's a dominating person. We don't vote officially. You agree." it's unanimous... . But he's a dominating person. We don't vote officially. You agree."20 Kerstin Fredga, the president of the Swedish Academy of Sciences, said at one point, "Very few people have ever dared say no to a.s.sar."21 Ironically, by December 1994, when Fredga made the remark, it was no longer true. Ironically, by December 1994, when Fredga made the remark, it was no longer true.

John Nash's name first appeared as a candidate for a n.o.bel in the mid-1980s.22 The n.o.bel selection process is like a giant funnel. At any given time, the economics prize committee has a dozen "investigations" running of fields and cl.u.s.ters of possible candidates. But, fairly quickly, the focus shifts to the hottest fields and candidates. By 1984, the "obvious" n.o.bels had been handed out to the likes of Samuelson, Arrow, and James Tobin. The committee was looking further afield among newer branches of economics, and nothing was newer or hotter at that particular moment than game theory. The n.o.bel selection process is like a giant funnel. At any given time, the economics prize committee has a dozen "investigations" running of fields and cl.u.s.ters of possible candidates. But, fairly quickly, the focus shifts to the hottest fields and candidates. By 1984, the "obvious" n.o.bels had been handed out to the likes of Samuelson, Arrow, and James Tobin. The committee was looking further afield among newer branches of economics, and nothing was newer or hotter at that particular moment than game theory.23 In 1984, the prize committee contacted a young researcher at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. A combat veteran and an activist in Israel's peace movement, Ariel Rubinstein took months to write a painstaking ten-page report on potential candidates for a prize in game theory. He placed Nash at the top of the list.24 The 1982 paper that established Rubinstein as one of the leading researchers in game theory was an extension of Nash's 1950 bargaining paper.25 Rubinstein's sense of indebtedness to Nash and his appreciation for Nash's original achievement were thus very vivid. Having encountered Nash on a visit to Princeton, Rubinstein also could not help but be struck by the stark contrast between Nash's past contributions and his current circ.u.mstances. His outrage was fueled partly by a firsthand encounter with the stigma of mental illness: his mother was once hospitalized for depression, and Rubinstein never forgot the lack of basic human respect accorded her by doctors and relatives. Rubinstein's sense of indebtedness to Nash and his appreciation for Nash's original achievement were thus very vivid. Having encountered Nash on a visit to Princeton, Rubinstein also could not help but be struck by the stark contrast between Nash's past contributions and his current circ.u.mstances. His outrage was fueled partly by a firsthand encounter with the stigma of mental illness: his mother was once hospitalized for depression, and Rubinstein never forgot the lack of basic human respect accorded her by doctors and relatives.26 The n.o.bel Prize committee did not take up the matter again until 1987, when it commissioned a second report, this time from Weibull.27 After he submitted it, Lindbeck told him that the committee wanted to ask him some questions and asked him to attend a couple of committee meetings at the Royal Academy. Weibull was, of course, pledged to complete secrecy. After he submitted it, Lindbeck told him that the committee wanted to ask him some questions and asked him to attend a couple of committee meetings at the Royal Academy. Weibull was, of course, pledged to complete secrecy.

When Weibull walked into the paneled room, introductions were hardly necessary. As a member of Sweden's small academic elite, Weibull already knew the five men, mostly academics, sitting around the enormous table. He was nonetheless slightly awed, realizing from the committee's questions that he was being given the opportunity to partic.i.p.ate at the earliest stage of a historic decision. "My impression ... [was] that it was the first time that the committee had met to consider this."28 Weibull presented a verbal summary of his report, telling the committee about the central ideas in game theory, their importance for economic research, and the key contributors. He, too, had placed Nash at the top of his list of half a dozen seminal thinkers. key contributors. He, too, had placed Nash at the top of his list of half a dozen seminal thinkers.

The committee's questions were carefully phrased to hide the members' own opinions, and focused, in the first session, on whether game theory was just a fad or really an important tool for investigating a wide range of interesting economic problems. By the second meeting, however, Lindbeck, the committee chairman, zeroed in on Nash. Was what Nash did merely mathematics? Lindbeck asked. Did he simply formalize ideas that economists had formulated at least a hundred years earlier? Was it true that Nash had stopped doing research in game theory in the early 1950s? That question was the closest anyone came to mentioning the subject of Nash's mental illness.29 When Weibull left the meeting, he thought that there was a good chance that the committee would eventually agree to award a prize in game theory, but he had no reason, given Nash's illness and the decades that had pa.s.sed since his early papers, to believe that Nash would make the cut.

Eric Fisher, a visitor at Stockholm University's Inst.i.tute for International Economics that year, recalled being quizzed by a.s.sar Lindbeck about Nash's mental state. Fisher had been an undergraduate at Princeton, where he used to see Nash hanging out in the foyer of Firestone Library. Lindbeck wanted to know whether Nash was "competent enough to handle the publicity that winning [a n.o.bel] might entail."30 It was two years later, the fall of 1989, that Weibull hurried across the Princeton University campus to meet Nash for the first time.31 After weeks of delicate negotiation, with the chairman of the mathematics department acting as a go-between, the elusive mathematician had finally agreed to have lunch. Weibull had a specific motive for the meeting. Lindbeck had pulled him aside shortly before his departure from Sweden and asked him to report back to him on Nash's mental state. There was some talk, Lindbeck said, that Nash had some sort of remission and was behaving quite reasonably. Was it true? Weibull was about to find out. After weeks of delicate negotiation, with the chairman of the mathematics department acting as a go-between, the elusive mathematician had finally agreed to have lunch. Weibull had a specific motive for the meeting. Lindbeck had pulled him aside shortly before his departure from Sweden and asked him to report back to him on Nash's mental state. There was some talk, Lindbeck said, that Nash had some sort of remission and was behaving quite reasonably. Was it true? Weibull was about to find out.

Weibull knew instantly that the tall, white-haired, frail-looking man standing in the driveway in front of Prospect House, Princeton's Florentine faculty club, was Nash. He was standing there rather awkwardly, smoking, looking down at the ground, obviously dressed up for the occasion, wearing white tennis shoes but also a long-sleeved dress shirt and long pants. As Weibull drew nearer, he could see that Nash was deathly nervous. When Weibull gave him his ready, friendly smile and extended his hand, Nash was unable to meet his eye and, after the briefest of handshakes, instantly put his hand back into his pocket.

They ate, not in the main, formal restaurant, but downstairs in a small cafeteria. Weibull, a gentle, soft-spoken man, asked Nash questions about his work. Sometimes the conversation took odd turns. When Weibull asked Nash about refining the Nash equilibrium concept by, perhaps, taking into account irrational moves by players, Nash answered him by talking, not about irrationality, but about immortality. But on the whole, Nash struck Weibull as no more eccentric, irrational, or paranoid than many other academics. Weibull learned interesting details about Nash's game theory papers that he hadn't known. Nash had gotten his idea for the bargaining solution as an undergraduate at Carnegie Tech by thinking about trade agreements between nations. While he had used both Brouwer's and Kakutani's fixed-point theorems to prove his equilibrium result, he still thought that the proof relying on Brouwer was both more beautiful and more apt. He said that von Neumann had opposed his idea of equilibrium, but that Tucker had supported him. immortality. But on the whole, Nash struck Weibull as no more eccentric, irrational, or paranoid than many other academics. Weibull learned interesting details about Nash's game theory papers that he hadn't known. Nash had gotten his idea for the bargaining solution as an undergraduate at Carnegie Tech by thinking about trade agreements between nations. While he had used both Brouwer's and Kakutani's fixed-point theorems to prove his equilibrium result, he still thought that the proof relying on Brouwer was both more beautiful and more apt. He said that von Neumann had opposed his idea of equilibrium, but that Tucker had supported him.

Afterward, though, what stood out for Weibull about the meeting, and the thing that transformed him that day from a detached observer and objective informant into an ardent advocate, was something Nash said before they walked into the club. "Can I go in?" Nash had asked uncertainly. "I'm not faculty." That this great, great man did not feel that he had a right to eat in the faculty club struck Weibull as an injustice that demanded remedy.

By the summer of 1993, rumors about a possible prize in game theory were rampant.32 A very small, very select symposium on game theory had taken place in mid-June, at what used to be Alfred n.o.bel's old dynamite factory in Bjorkborn, a few hundred kilometers north of Stockholm. A very small, very select symposium on game theory had taken place in mid-June, at what used to be Alfred n.o.bel's old dynamite factory in Bjorkborn, a few hundred kilometers north of Stockholm.33 Such symposia, sponsored by the prize committee, are invariably seen as n.o.bel beauty contests. This one was organized by Karl-Goran Maler with the help of Jorgen Weibull and a Cambridge economist, Partha Dasgupta. Lindbeck, who was spending the spring term in Cambridge, oversaw the preparations by telephone. The dozen or so invited speakers represented two generations of leading game-theory researchers, mostly theorists and experimentalists, among them John Harsanyi, Reinhard Selten, Robert Aumann, David Kreps, Ariel Rubinstein, Al Roth, Paul Milgrom, and Eric Maskin. The topic? Rationality and Equilibrium in Strategic Interaction. Such symposia, sponsored by the prize committee, are invariably seen as n.o.bel beauty contests. This one was organized by Karl-Goran Maler with the help of Jorgen Weibull and a Cambridge economist, Partha Dasgupta. Lindbeck, who was spending the spring term in Cambridge, oversaw the preparations by telephone. The dozen or so invited speakers represented two generations of leading game-theory researchers, mostly theorists and experimentalists, among them John Harsanyi, Reinhard Selten, Robert Aumann, David Kreps, Ariel Rubinstein, Al Roth, Paul Milgrom, and Eric Maskin. The topic? Rationality and Equilibrium in Strategic Interaction.

Most of the partic.i.p.ants took it for granted that they were performing for the benefit of the prize committee and a.s.sumed that the three graybeards in the group, Harsanyi, Selten, and Aumann, were the likely Laureates.34 Aumann, the white-bearded Israeli dean of game theory, was strutting around "as if he had already won." Much was made of the choice of topic, which was theoretical and focused on noncooperative as opposed to cooperative games, and those who hadn't been invited - Nash most obviously, of course. Aumann, the white-bearded Israeli dean of game theory, was strutting around "as if he had already won." Much was made of the choice of topic, which was theoretical and focused on noncooperative as opposed to cooperative games, and those who hadn't been invited - Nash most obviously, of course.

As it turned out, the prize committee was far from committing itself to a candidate.35 Protestations that the main motivation for the symposium was to create an opportunity for the committee "to educate itself," as Torsten Persson of the prize committee put it later, were accurate. Only one other prize committee member besides Maler was even there - and that was Ingemar Stahl. His brother, Ingolf, was one of the speakers, and Ingemar intimated that he had come to hear him. But everyone a.s.sumed that he was there to act as a spy for the committee. Protestations that the main motivation for the symposium was to create an opportunity for the committee "to educate itself," as Torsten Persson of the prize committee put it later, were accurate. Only one other prize committee member besides Maler was even there - and that was Ingemar Stahl. His brother, Ingolf, was one of the speakers, and Ingemar intimated that he had come to hear him. But everyone a.s.sumed that he was there to act as a spy for the committee.36

A few weeks later, Harold Kuhn, the professor of mathematics and economics at Princeton University, got an urgent fax from Stockholm. It was from Weibull, who wanted Kuhn to send a number of doc.u.ments, among them Nash's Ph.D. thesis and a RAND memorandum - "no later than mid-August please."37 Weibull also asked Kuhn to get him a transcript of an interview with Nash conducted by Robert Leonard, the historian. Leonard, who had not taped the interview, wrote Kuhn a note in which he said that the request "sent my mind reeling in the Swedish direction." Weibull also asked Kuhn to get him a transcript of an interview with Nash conducted by Robert Leonard, the historian. Leonard, who had not taped the interview, wrote Kuhn a note in which he said that the request "sent my mind reeling in the Swedish direction."38 In Stockholm, meanwhile, the prize committee was about to report to the so-called Ninth Cla.s.s of the academy - all the academy members in the social sciences.39 The bulk of the report, of course, was devoted to the proposed candidates for 1993, two economics historians, Robert Fogel of the University of Chicago and Dougla.s.s North of Washington University in St. Louis. But the committee also updated the cla.s.s on two or three other proposals that const.i.tuted the top choices for subsequent prizes. One of them was a prize in game theory; Nash was on the short list of half a dozen candidates. The bulk of the report, of course, was devoted to the proposed candidates for 1993, two economics historians, Robert Fogel of the University of Chicago and Dougla.s.s North of Washington University in St. Louis. But the committee also updated the cla.s.s on two or three other proposals that const.i.tuted the top choices for subsequent prizes. One of them was a prize in game theory; Nash was on the short list of half a dozen candidates.40 Nearly the only point the prize committee had agreed on was that it wanted to go ahead with a prize in game theory in 1994, the fiftieth anniversary of John von Neumann and Oskar Morgenstern's great opus.

Lindbeck and the others were still toying with "every possible configuration" of two and three winners.41 The short list - the candidates that the committee had focused most of its attention on - had scarcely changed since the prize was first conceived. The short list - the candidates that the committee had focused most of its attention on - had scarcely changed since the prize was first conceived.42 Apart from Nash it included Lloyd Shapley, whom Nash had known as a graduate student at Princeton. Shapley was the most direct intellectual descendant of von Neumann and Morgenstern and the clear leader of the field in the 1950s and 1960s when most of the work was in cooperative theory. Reinhard Selten and John Harsanyi, who had elaborated the theory of noncooperative games, were also on it. Harsanyi's breakthroughs permitted a.n.a.lysis of games of incomplete information while Selten developed a way to discriminate between reasonable and unreasonable outcomes in games. Aumann, who developed the role of common knowledge in games, was also on the list. And Thomas Sch.e.l.ling, who invented the notion of the strategic value of brinkmanship, was being considered because of his broad vision for the application of game theory to the social sciences. Apart from Nash it included Lloyd Shapley, whom Nash had known as a graduate student at Princeton. Shapley was the most direct intellectual descendant of von Neumann and Morgenstern and the clear leader of the field in the 1950s and 1960s when most of the work was in cooperative theory. Reinhard Selten and John Harsanyi, who had elaborated the theory of noncooperative games, were also on it. Harsanyi's breakthroughs permitted a.n.a.lysis of games of incomplete information while Selten developed a way to discriminate between reasonable and unreasonable outcomes in games. Aumann, who developed the role of common knowledge in games, was also on the list. And Thomas Sch.e.l.ling, who invented the notion of the strategic value of brinkmanship, was being considered because of his broad vision for the application of game theory to the social sciences.

The prize decision is made in stages.43 Each year the committee starts meeting soon after the January 31 deadline for the two hundred or so nominations that the committee solicits from prominent economists around the world. By April, the committee decides on a particular candidate or candidates. In late August, it submits the proposal - along with a doc.u.ment several inches thick that includes the referee reports, publications, and other supporting material - to the Ninth Cla.s.s for endors.e.m.e.nt. The academy then votes on the candidates in early October. But, as everyone involved was well aware, the power truly resides in the committee and, Each year the committee starts meeting soon after the January 31 deadline for the two hundred or so nominations that the committee solicits from prominent economists around the world. By April, the committee decides on a particular candidate or candidates. In late August, it submits the proposal - along with a doc.u.ment several inches thick that includes the referee reports, publications, and other supporting material - to the Ninth Cla.s.s for endors.e.m.e.nt. The academy then votes on the candidates in early October. But, as everyone involved was well aware, the power truly resides in the committee and, until recently, in one man, a.s.sar Lindbeck. Lofgren said, "The prize committee meets for a whole year. It's technically impossible for the higher body to make the decision." until recently, in one man, a.s.sar Lindbeck. Lofgren said, "The prize committee meets for a whole year. It's technically impossible for the higher body to make the decision."44 Debate in the committee was unusually contentious from the first meeting, attended by Lindbeck, Maler, Stahl, Persson and Lars Svenson.45 Lindbeck had come to the conclusion that the prize should be for contributions to noncooperative theory alone. These were the ideas that had proved fruitful for economics, "the most important so far," as Lindbeck later said, adding "cooperative theory has a few interesting applications in economics, but perhaps more in political science." Lindbeck had come to the conclusion that the prize should be for contributions to noncooperative theory alone. These were the ideas that had proved fruitful for economics, "the most important so far," as Lindbeck later said, adding "cooperative theory has a few interesting applications in economics, but perhaps more in political science."46 Although Maler sided with Lindbeck from the start, convincing the rest of the committee was harder than the latter antic.i.p.ated. "It seemed self-evident afterward. But it took a long time to come to this conclusion. And to convince others." Although Maler sided with Lindbeck from the start, convincing the rest of the committee was harder than the latter antic.i.p.ated. "It seemed self-evident afterward. But it took a long time to come to this conclusion. And to convince others."47 Of course, he later admitted, narrowing the prize down in this way would immediately knock out some of the obvious contenders, namely Shapley and Sch.e.l.ling. Of course, he later admitted, narrowing the prize down in this way would immediately knock out some of the obvious contenders, namely Shapley and Sch.e.l.ling.48 And here was the real bone of contention: Focusing on noncooperative theory also meant that it would be difficult to deny Nash the prize. "Once we decided to limit the prize to noncooperative theory then it was very easy to decide who were the ... [key contributors]. Then it was obvious that Nash is [part of the] n.o.bel." And here was the real bone of contention: Focusing on noncooperative theory also meant that it would be difficult to deny Nash the prize. "Once we decided to limit the prize to noncooperative theory then it was very easy to decide who were the ... [key contributors]. Then it was obvious that Nash is [part of the] n.o.bel."49 Lindbeck proposed a three-way prize for the definition of equilibria in non-cooperative games: Nash, Harsanyi, and Selten. Lindbeck proposed a three-way prize for the definition of equilibria in non-cooperative games: Nash, Harsanyi, and Selten.50 This was where the debate got nasty.

The person on the committee least intimidated by Lindbeck and best equipped intellectually to challenge him was Ingemar Stahl, a sixty-year-old professor at Lund with a joint appointment in economics and law.51 Stahl is a quick study and a brilliant debater, a man who delights in taking contrarian, often extreme positions, in any debate. He had long been one of the most active committee members and had written many of the committee's prize proposals since the early 1980s. Stahl is a quick study and a brilliant debater, a man who delights in taking contrarian, often extreme positions, in any debate. He had long been one of the most active committee members and had written many of the committee's prize proposals since the early 1980s.

Stahl is short, with a large head and a big belly. His detractors call him Zwergel or "little dwarf" behind his back. A onetime wunderkind who never quite lived up to his early promise, Stahl owes the prestigious chair at Lund, his academy membership, and his longtime position on the prize committee more to his political connections and his high-profile posture in public policy debates than to his research output. Like Lindbeck, Stahl began his upward climb early, while he was still in high school, as a protege of various Social Democratic politicians, including Palme, but he had gone over to the conservative opposition in the late 1960s.

Stahl was deeply and adamantly opposed to awarding the prize to Nash. From the start, he was highly skeptical of game theory - as indeed he is of all pure theory. He is an inst.i.tutionalist, likes intuitive rather than formal reasoning, and is leery of mathematics and "technicians." He was, for example, a main mover behind the prizes for James Buchanan in 1986 and Ronald Coase in 1991 - economists whose theories focus on the way governments and legal structures affect the workings of markets. He also prides himself on grasping n.o.bel politics. The more he learned about Nash, the less he liked the idea of giving Nash a prize. In particular, he considered giving the prize to Nash the kind of ill-considered gesture that was likely to result in embarra.s.sment and, more important, make the committee look bad. markets. He also prides himself on grasping n.o.bel politics. The more he learned about Nash, the less he liked the idea of giving Nash a prize. In particular, he considered giving the prize to Nash the kind of ill-considered gesture that was likely to result in embarra.s.sment and, more important, make the committee look bad.

"I knew he had been ill," he said later. "I didn't think many people knew about it. I guess I heard Hormander's version."52 Stahl had done quite a bit of digging. In the early fall, he had made a call to Lars Hormander, Sweden's most eminent mathematician and winner of the 1962 Fields Medal.53 Hormander had just retired from the University of Lund. Stahl identified himself as a member of the n.o.bel Prize committee. He'd heard that Hormander had known Nash quite well in the 1950s and 1960s, he said. The committee was thinking of giving Nash a n.o.bel Prize. Could Hormander give him the lowdown on Nash? Hormander had just retired from the University of Lund. Stahl identified himself as a member of the n.o.bel Prize committee. He'd heard that Hormander had known Nash quite well in the 1950s and 1960s, he said. The committee was thinking of giving Nash a n.o.bel Prize. Could Hormander give him the lowdown on Nash?

Hormander was surprised. Like most other pure mathematicians, he didn't think much of Nash's work in game theory. And the last time Hormander had laid eyes on Nash was in the academic year 197778. Hormander had been in Princeton and he had seen Nash hanging around Fine Hall. Nash was "a ghost." Hormander didn't think Nash had recognized him or had even been aware of his presence. Hormander hadn't even tried to speak with him. To give such a man a prize seemed to him "absurd, risky."54 Hormander was precise and frank. His memories of Nash were extremely distasteful. He recalled Nash's decision to give up his citizenship; his deportation, first from Switzerland, then from France; Nash's bizarre behavior at the 1962 conference in Paris; the stream of anonymous cards, with their hints of envy and hostility, that came after Hormander won the Fields in 1962.

Stahl had also made inquiries among several psychiatrists he knew who, he says, described the illness as unlike depression or mania, where the self remains intermittently at least recognizable. "I knew this type of illness," he said later. "I know some psychiatrists here. Some of the best head shrinkers. When I talked to them I found out that with this disease there is a complete change of personality. He is not the man who did the thing."55 Lindbeck, relying on reports from Weibull and Kuhn, was telling committee members that Nash was much improved, that he had, in fact, recovered his sanity.56 About this, too, Stahl was deeply skeptical. The psychiatrists he spoke to told him that schizophrenia is a chronic, unremitting, degenerative disease. "It's a very tragic illness. It gets calmed down but actually recovering is another matter." About this, too, Stahl was deeply skeptical. The psychiatrists he spoke to told him that schizophrenia is a chronic, unremitting, degenerative disease. "It's a very tragic illness. It gets calmed down but actually recovering is another matter."57 Stahl knew that there was great sympathy for Nash. And he could see that Lindbeck had made up his mind. So he didn't attack frontally, but simply raised question after question. "He'd throw out an argument and somebody would shoot it down," said another member of the committee. "Then he'd shift to another argument. He tried to irritate and confuse us... to raise doubts."58 Stahl would say, "He's sick... . You can't have a person like that."59 He asked what would happen at the ceremony. "Would he come? Could he handle it? It's a big show."60 He quoted Hormander and others who had known Nash in the 1950s and 1960s. He read them what he considered a particularly d.a.m.ning quotation from a book by Martin Shubik, who had known Nash as a graduate student.

"The most d.a.m.ning thing," Stahl repeated later, was something Martin Shubik wrote in one of his books: that "you can only understand the Nash equilibrium if you have met Nash. It's a game and it's played alone."61 He brought up Nash's work for RAND: "These guys worked with the atom bomb during the cold war. It would be a shameful thing for the prize."62 He brought up Nash's lack of interest in game theory after graduate school. As Lindbeck, Jacobson, the academy's secretary general, and others later hinted, Stahl was not the first member of a n.o.bel Prize committee who was motivated by deep animus toward a particular candidate or who embraced a wide range of intellectual objections in an effort to derail the candidate.63 But as the spring wore on, Stahl made a great many midnight phone calls. He seemed, Weibull later recalled, to be trying out any and all arguments against Nash's candidacy. But as the spring wore on, Stahl made a great many midnight phone calls. He seemed, Weibull later recalled, to be trying out any and all arguments against Nash's candidacy.64 What was certainly the case throughout those months, a member of the Swedish academy said, was a growing feeling on Stahl's and others' part that "a few bad choices would sink the prize. Nash was of course a very weak prize. People were afraid that the thing would blow up. A big scandal."65 And David Warsh, a syndicated columnist in whom Stahl evidently confided, subsequently wrote, "The whole intellectual world is watching to see what the Swedish Academy of Sciences is going to do about Nash. The Swedes are known to be worried about what Nash might say." And David Warsh, a syndicated columnist in whom Stahl evidently confided, subsequently wrote, "The whole intellectual world is watching to see what the Swedish Academy of Sciences is going to do about Nash. The Swedes are known to be worried about what Nash might say."66 Christer Kiselman, head of the mathematics cla.s.s of the academy at the time and a member of the academy's governing council, remembers talking to Stahl. He recalls that Stahl told him that Nash's work was done too long ago and was too mathematical to warrant a prize. Christer Kiselman, head of the mathematics cla.s.s of the academy at the time and a member of the academy's governing council, remembers talking to Stahl. He recalls that Stahl told him that Nash's work was done too long ago and was too mathematical to warrant a prize.67 Kiselman, whose son Ola has suffered from schizophrenia since age sixteen, had a different interpretation: "[Stahl] was afraid of schizophrenia. So he had some prejudices. So he thought other people would think the same way. He was afraid of some scandal that would reflect on the committee." Kiselman, whose son Ola has suffered from schizophrenia since age sixteen, had a different interpretation: "[Stahl] was afraid of schizophrenia. So he had some prejudices. So he thought other people would think the same way. He was afraid of some scandal that wou