April

Tributes to Professor Klaus Abbink

Department of Economics staff and students have come together to pay tribute to Professor Klaus Abbink who passed away recently. He is greatly missed.

Professor Lata Gangadharan

Klaus Abbink had an extremely creative mind and he pioneered many strands of research in economics. He designed innovative experimental approaches to understand corruption, conflict and anti-social behaviour, and these experimental paradigms have been used extensively since, and represent many important economic phenomena.

He sometimes looked reserved and stern, but Klaus had a subtle sense of humour and a nice flair for the dramatic. This came through in the remarks he made and also in the titles he chose for his papers: “The pleasure of being nasty”; “How to choose your victim”; “Al Qaeda at the bar: Coordinating ideologues and mercenaries in terrorist organizations”; “Letting the briber go free: An experiment on mitigating harassment bribes”; “Arms Races and conflict”.

His papers were easy to read and were about issues that many connected with. Not surprisingly, he had publications in the American Economic Review, Economic Journal, European Economic Review, several excellent field journals and also in general interest journals such as Nature Communications and Management Science. He was kind and compassionate and very generous with his time. Students and colleagues found his research and his somewhat unconventional ideas inspiring. He encouraged students to test for power and account for heterogeneity analysis long before it was seen to be fashionable. His research influenced many young scholars and will be remembered as an important contribution to understanding the dark side of human beings.

Klaus was at Monash for more than a decade. In his time here, he was the Director of MonLEE, he was a Ph D milestone coordinator, coordinated seminars for the Behavioural, Experimental and Theory group, and taught the third-year course in Experimental Economics. He has left a significant footprint in the department, and we will miss him.

Professor Gaurav Datt

Klaus: A couple of personal reflections

(1) “You want it darker”

Klaus reminded me of the Leonard Cohen song “You want it darker”. He was an investigator of the dark side of humanity. Not that this was all he worked on, but what lies behind the dark side of individual and social behaviour was a recurring theme he returned to in many of his papers. I recall my first exposure to this was a seminar by Klaus in the Economics Department, not long after I came to Monash. The paper he presented, published years later as “How to choose your victim”, introduced the key question by historical reference to the once commonly-accepted Custom of the Sea, which codified cannibalism by shipwrecked sailors using a random draw to select a victim to be killed and eaten, to enhance the chances of other sailors’ survival. Klaus pointed out that the choice of the victim was seldom random. Clearly, not your regular day at a seminar. You can read the paper, but the conclusion was sober: “Our results show that spontaneous formation of mobs is easy, and surprisingly many subjects are inclined to be a part of it, showing little concern for the consequences for the victim. Nominations of victims are frequent even if the gains from it are minimal, and individuals do not hesitate to pick a fellow group member who is already poorer than themselves. In this case, the victim’s relative poverty only serves as a focal point and a coordination device…” I cannot but notice the parallels with cow vigilante lynchings in India.

Klaus was not shy to push his research into the uncomfortable realm that other researchers may be wary of treading. That’s one thing that set him apart.

(2) Simple and direct

I have only one joint paper with him, which in fact is yet to be published. What I remember most about working with him on this paper is his insistence on simplicity and directness, both of the experimental approach for the underlying research, and later, of the writing of the paper itself. I believe there are several other examples of his work of which this is also true. Simplicity and directness was also a feature of Klaus himself. His day-to-day life always seemed pared down to the essentials. Few of us would have visited his apartment, but if you stepped into his office, its sparseness was unmistakable. Likewise, he wasn’t given to social niceties and had no time for political correctness. Some found that awkward on occasion, but the straightforward candour had a very refreshing element to it. He was a bit of a recluse, so it was difficult to get to know him at a personal level. But if he was a hermit, he was a kind one. Klaus, we will remember you and we will miss you.

Professor Andreas Leibbrandt

The saying is that anonymity can reveal one’s true self. My first contact with Klaus was when he refereed one of my papers (he never told me or even signalled it; he would have never done that, but I knew). He wrote one of the nicest referee reports that I have ever received: “This is a very good paper, I recommend publication (…) The study does NOT need additional treatments or sessions.

I immediately liked Klaus. He was always a vocal advocate for simplicity, clarity, and efficiency. While this may not come as a complete surprise given his upbringing in Germany and training under Reinhard Selten, he rigorously applied these principles to his experimental research and personal life. He moved to Hughesdale because it is “equal distance to Caulfield and Clayton”, he did not unpack his boxes in his office because he (rightfully) believed that he will have to move his office, and he did not say ‘Hi’ or ‘See you’ when meeting.

One day, I thought I got him when he showed up with his new car, a swanky Mercedes 500SL. However, again it made perfect sense because ‘It is the only car where I can stretch my long legs’.

Klaus was a great supervisor and teacher for his students. He was very patient and provided consistent care and equal effort for everyone that crossed his path. Students and colleagues learnt a lot from him and how simplicity, clarity, and efficiency are key drivers for generating knowledge and staying on track. Struggling or thriving, disadvantaged or privileged, he helped them all. While it may have sometimes looked like he did not need others to care for him, he really appreciated small gestures. I believe he only extended the rental contract in his first apartment because the porter always handed him a printout of the weather forecast (which he often showed me and we both made fun of a typical Melbourne forecast with sun, clouds, rain and a wide temperature range).

He was not an idealist. In a period in which almost all researchers in his field worked on social preferences, hoping to uncover the good in us, he was one of the pioneers to study the dark side of human motivation. He believed that to give the good a chance, we need to learn to control the bad and if possible make this a sound equilibrium strategy. He was deeply respected by his peers. Everything he said had real substance.

One of the first times I met him, we watched a rugby game together in a bar in the Docklands. I recall how he drew the attention of many (taller) women and how small I appeared by his side. But I never felt small by his side. I doubt that he has made anyone feel small.

The last time I met him, our conversation drifted quickly to topics like the inherent dangers in capitalism and socialism. In addition to his principles and desire for simplicity, clarity, and efficiency, he was fascinated by essential questions. I hope that he can ponder more on these wherever he is while cruising in his Mercedes.

Klaus, thank you for being a part in our journey. We miss you. See you in a different world.

Professor Ranjan Ray

I was shocked and deeply saddened to hear the news of the passing away of our colleague, Klaus Abbink. Having never worked with Klaus, I was an ‘outsider’ to the group of colleagues who co-authored and interacted with him quite closely. Nevertheless, from our conversations and having seen him participate in departmental events such as meetings and milestone seminars by our PhD students, Klaus left a lasting impression on me. He was a very helpful guide to doctoral students and I heard many of them express their appreciation for his mentoring role.

There are two particular events that I will always remember about Klaus. The first was his trip to India, I think to the city of Hyderabad, that he made in connection with his research on bribery. When we met after his return to Melbourne, I was quite struck by his perceptive remarks on India and Indian society. The second was a seminar that was organised at short notice by the CDES in Monash. A junior scholar working in Ashoka University in Delhi once wrote to me that she is visiting a relative in Melbourne and wondered if a seminar could be organised at short notice. I asked Gaurav and he promptly organised a CDES seminar by this scholar. She was not a ‘prominent speaker’ nor someone with an ‘outstanding research record’ but her topic, on the dietary pattern of India’s lower castes, seemed quite interesting. Only three or four people turned up (besides Gaurav and myself) and that included Klaus. He was the last person who I expected will turn up since I didn’t associate his research interests with development. Not only did Klaus attend the sparsely attended talk but his questions and comments were some of the most insightful and helpful.

Klaus spoke little, especially in meetings, but when he did speak his comments could be quite decisive. When Klaus joined the department with Stephen King as the Dean, we were on an upward trajectory in our research standing but hadn’t quite established ourselves. Klaus played a big part in Monash Economics having the high ranking internationally that it enjoys today. In the passing away of Klaus, we have lost a valuable colleague. If his life was not cut sort, he could have contributed so much more to Monash and the wider academic community beyond Monash. My regret is that I didn’t make greater effort to know Klaus more closely. If I did, I could have learnt so much more from him. May his soul rest in peace.

Associate Professor Vai-Lam Mui

Klaus' Silent Smiles

I could not recall exactly when this happened. But toward the end of Klaus' job visit to Monash more than a decade ago, I and several colleagues took him to the Faculty club for lunch. At that time, the University already made him an offer and my recollection was that he already indicated that he would accept. When walking with him, I teased him: "Your appointment increases the average height of the Economics Department, both figuratively, and literally." He did not say anything, but offered me a mild, silent smile.

In one of my visits to him in the hospital late October last year, I asked Klaus whether I could bring him any of his favourite food that might cheer him up, and he said: “gummy bears.” Fortunately, Woolworths carried the "original since 1922" Haribo German gummy bears. When I went back to give him the gummy bears the next day, he gave me a silent, but big, smile.  Digging through my emails, according to an update email sent out by Sascha less than 2 hours after I left Klaus the gummy bears, "part of the gold bear sweetie bag is already empty."

I still found the sad news surreal, but when I thought of Klaus, I tried to recall his silent smiles, in the above, and other occasions throughout the years.

Dr Ben Grodeck

I am deeply saddened by the news of Klaus' passing. Klaus played a pivotal role in my development as an economist (and a thinker in general) throughout my PhD journey. He was always happy to give me feedback on my weird and wacky ideas, even encouraging them. His perspective on experimental design was invaluable.  I was also fortunate to TA for Klaus' experimental economics class (twice). He gave me the freedom to add my own personal touch to the tutorials, and I think we made a fantastic team.

Klaus was the chair of my dissertation committee. I'll always remember his comments after each of my milestones, which left me with a glow and the motivation to finish my PhD. I was truly lucky to have him as a mentor.