Ever since its eighteenth-century inception, the science of economics has been methodologically controversial. Even during the first half of the nineteenth century, when economics enjoyed great prestige, there were skeptics like Peacock. For economics is a peculiar science. Many of its premises are platitudes such as “Individuals can rank alternatives” or “Individuals choose what they most prefer.” Other premises are simplifications such as “Commodities are infinitely divisible,” or “Individuals have perfect information.” On such platitudes and simplifications, such “premises assumed without evidence, or in spite of it,” economists have erected a mathematically sophistical theoretical edifice, whose conclusions, although certainly not “necessarily erroneous,” are nevertheless often off the mark. Yet businesses, unions, and governments employ thousands of economists and rely on them to estimate the consequences of policies. Is economics a science or isn't it?

This is a complicated question. What does it mean to assert or deny that economics is a science? To be called a science is, no doubt, an honor. As the scientific credentials of economists rise, so do consulting fees. But what question is one posing when one asks, “Is economics a science?” Is one inquiring about the goals of economics, about the methods it employs, about the conceptual structure of economic theory, or about whether economics can be reduced to physics?