The New Yorker has a great profile on New York Times columnist and Nobel Prize winner, Paul Krugman
Their apartment in New York is in the same neighborhood as both Jeffrey Sachs’s and Joseph Stiglitz’s, but since they bought it, a few years ago, they haven’t seen either of them. Krugman doesn’t get out much, socially. But he travels constantly, speaking at conferences, speaking for pay, promoting his books. “I’m not a very easygoing person one on one, but put me in front of five hundred people and I get very relaxed and conversational,” he says. Years ago, when he was just an economist, he did a lot of speaking at corporate events. “I wasn’t enjoying those so much,” he says. “One of them was held at a golf course, and I gave the luncheon talk and I was thinking to myself, I could just as well have been a magician. And then, at dinner, they did have a magician!” These days, the Times forbids him to do gigs like that, to avoid conflicts of interest, but his book publisher sends him all over the place. “I don’t sell as many books as Tom Friedman does,” Krugman says. “That’s O.K. Tom gives you this, you know, ‘I was talking to somebody in Bangalore and this is what I saw.’ That’s a skill I don’t have.” Perhaps this is fortunate, because he finds book tours exhausting.
“Twenty-five cities in forty days,” he says. “The mechanics of washing up in hotel sinks because you’re not in any hotel long enough to use their laundry.”
It’s not so much the washing as the drying that presents a problem. Years of experiments have failed to yield a satisfactory solution. Krugman has discovered that it is slow and quite risky to use a hair dryer with any item that involves elastic. Long ago, in Tel Aviv, his roommates found him attempting to dry his underwear in a frying pan.
“The trick with underwear is to wring it out and then press down—”
“I learned this from yoga workshops,” Wells says. “You get out as much excess water as you can, then you lay a dry towel flat on the floor, you lay the article of clothing on the towel, and roll it up like this—”
“And then it’s only slightly damp in the morning when you have to put it on.”
“No, it’s usually dry. We also do that on bike trips.”
“Because you can’t take forty pairs of underwear.”
“Not in carry-on.”
Krugman is not a keen traveller. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, many of his contemporaries set off for Eastern Europe—every economist wanted his own personal country to transition. Jeffrey Sachs, in particular, was all over the place, but Krugman was never tempted. “I know what Jeff does and I couldn’t do it,” he says. “Taking transport planes, living on yak meat for days—no. But I do write faster than anybody. You’ve got to figure out what you should be doing.”
