The perils of being understood

I did not know until I read this profile of Krugman that it's his wife, Robin Wells, who adds a lot of the anger and forcefulness in his columns. Other than that, Krugman comes off as you'd expect: cranky, a bit of a nebbish, having the convert's fervor of someone who came late to politics, and someone who doesn't suffer fools...at all. But this made me laugh:

Unlike most well-known academics, Krugman has never had many graduate students. He is unsure why this is so. Is it that his style of thinking, intuitive rather than methodological, is too difficult to imitate? he wonders. Is he too distracted? Too busy? Too short? Whatever the reason, it has become clear that his legacy will not be perpetuated in the usual way by a diaspora of little Krugmans, so, if his name is to survive, it is up to him. His papers and books, of course, are the main thing, but in recent years Krugman has also spent a great deal of time distilling his views into an undergraduate textbook. When he first signed the contract to write it, in 1994, he did it mostly for the money. Then he did no work on it for years. Finally, his publisher told him that he had to get moving, that he should work with a co-author who was better organized and more highly motivated than he was, and suggested his wife. It took them five years of intense work to write the first edition.

“It’s excruciatingly hard,” Wells says.

“You have to put yourself back in the mind of an eighteen-year-old,” Krugman says. “And it has to be impeccable. If you’re writing an academic paper, if you have some stuff that’s blurrily written, that won’t do too much harm. If you write a newspaper article and a third of the readers don’t get it, that’s a success. But a textbook has to be perfect.”

A third? I'm happy if one-fifth of my meager readership has any idea what I'm talking about.