Blackbeard economics: the surprising--and surprisingly tame--self-organization of pirates.

• Author: Mangu-Ward, Katherine
• Position: The Invisible Hook: The Hidden Economics of Pirates - Book review

The Invisible Hook: The Hidden Economics of Pirates, by Peter T. Leeson, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 296 pages, $24.95

PIRATES ARE alluring to novelists and moviemakers because we know they really existed but don't know enough hard facts to get in the way of a good story. Contemporaneous newspaper accounts and other tales from the early 18th century are colorful but unreliable, tending toward propaganda. They report that these appalling yet appealing "Hell-hounds" marauded for the Jolly Roger, enslaved passing sailors, and tortured the innocent for fun. "Danger lurked in their very Smiles," one pirate chronicler reported. Pirates were "violators of all Laws, Humane and Divine."

Portraying the freebooters in the worst possible light worked to the advantage of everyone concerned. For governments, crusading against the outlaws who robbed their merchants and treasury ships was a way to keep public opinion firmly on the side of the state. Practicing pirates, meanwhile, were happy to be depicted as violent and unpredictable outlaws, as this encouraged their prey to surrender and cooperate. In fact, the marauders went to great lengths to ensure that their reputation as heartless ship wreckers and torturers remained intact. The famous Blackbeard, for instance, used to stick sulfur fuses in his great, bushy beard and light them on fire before battles to create a general sense of the demonic. He also occasionally killed his pals without warning, just to keep the fear alive.

But a pirate's life had less publicized qualities as well: Ships were known among sailors for their relatively decent living conditions, profit-sharing opportunities, democratic practices, and racially integrated crews. Life "on the account," as pirating was known, was often far more civilized than legitimate seamanship.

So how can these two images be reconciled?

Bloodthirsty buccaneers and their progressive alter egos both want the same thing: booty. Cold, hard doubloons drove pirates and their persecutors alike. In The Invisible Hook, George Mason University economist Peter T. Leeson digs into the dollars and cents of piracy. He urges us to see pirates as economic actors, their behavior shaped by incentives, just like the rest of us. Once you're in an economic state of mind, you can begin to understand actions such as lighting one's beard on fire, voting, being decent to black people, and torturing captives "for fun"--all equally nutty behaviors to the average 18th-century observer. When Leeson is done guiding you through the pirate world, life on a rogue ship starts to look less like a Carnival cruise with cutlasses and cannons and more like an ongoing condo association meeting at sea.

Robbery on the high seas has existed since ancient times, but the seafaring pirates of popular imagination first arose in the 16th century as agents of the state. These privateers, as they were known, were charged with raiding the ships of enemies--or, more accurately, anyone who couldn't immediately prove to the pirates that he was a friend. Sir Henry Morgan (yes, the real-life Captain Morgan, for those of you doing rum shots at home) was a big name in 17th-century state-sponsored piracy. The...