What is power, and which discipline sees it best?

Economics talks about market structure and bargaining power. Political science talks about who gets to keep questions off the table. Sociology talks about structures that decide before anyone speaks. They are not describing the same thing in different words.

Stage 1 of 4

Economics on power: apparatus by proxy

“The current framework in antitrust—specifically its pegging competition to ‘consumer welfare,’ defined as short-term price effects—is unequipped to capture the architecture of market power in the modern economy.”

— Lina Khan, “Amazon’s Antitrust Paradox,” Yale Law Journal, 2017

Khan’s charge is not that the antitrust apparatus gets the math wrong. It is that the vocabulary the apparatus runs on—“consumer welfare,” “price effects”—makes a whole species of power invisible before the analysis even starts. So before deciding whether she is right, look hard at what economics actually sees when it looks at power, and in what terms.

Here is the awkward fact economics rarely says out loud: it does not have a word called “power” in its core vocabulary. It used to. The classical political economists—Smith, Ricardo, Marx—wrote about power constantly: bargaining strength, class, the landlord’s grip on rent. The marginalist revolution of the 1870s swept most of that language out and replaced it with marginal products, factor shares, and equilibrium prices. What was left of “power” got re-encoded into four pieces of apparatus, each of which captures something real and none of which uses the word.

Market structure. The first piece is the spectrum from perfect competition through monopoly. A monopolist sets price above marginal cost; the gap is the firm’s pricing power, and economics measures it precisely. The Lerner index reads the markup straight off the price; the Herfindahl-Hirschman index reads concentration off market shares. When an economist says “Amazon has market power,” this is the apparatus doing the talking—and De Loecker, Eeckhout, and Unger’s 2020 finding that aggregate US markups roughly tripled since 1980 is exactly this apparatus reporting that something large has changed.

Asymmetric information. The second piece is what happens when one party knows something the other does not. The insurer who cannot see the driver’s risk, the employer who cannot observe the worker’s effort, the seller of a used car who knows it is a lemon—each holds an informational advantage that translates into the ability to extract surplus. Economics calls this adverse selection, moral hazard, the principal-agent problem. It is power-by-asymmetry, theorized in full, and never once filed under “power.”

Mechanism design. The third piece runs the logic in reverse. If asymmetric information lets one party extract surplus, then designing the rules of the game—the auction, the voting procedure, the contract—is designing who can extract what from whom. The revelation principle tells you when you can build a mechanism that makes people reveal what they know truthfully. Designing an FCC spectrum auction is designing a power architecture; the designer simply has equations for it.

Monopsony. The fourth piece is the one economics rediscovered most recently, and the rediscovery matters. Joan Robinson named monopsony in 1933—a single buyer with power over sellers, the mirror image of monopoly. For decades the competitive-labor-market baseline assumed it away: workers paid their marginal product, full stop. Then Alan Manning’s Monopsony in Motion (2003), and the Azar-Marinescu-Steinbaum concentration work of 2020, put numbers on employer wage-setting power. Suddenly economics had a quantitative grip on something it had told itself for fifty years did not exist.

Two of these are a single number. The Lerner index measures pricing power as the markup of price over marginal cost:

$$L = \frac{P - MC}{P}$$

The monopsony wage gap does the same for the buyer side—how far below marginal product the wage sits:

$$\eta = \frac{MRP_L - W}{W}$$

Both are zero under perfect competition. When they are not zero, economics has located power and put a coordinate on it—without ever writing the word.

直觉模式

Each of these four lets economics say something quantitative about a thing we would ordinarily call power—but each requires translating the question into market-structural terms first. The price gap, the information gap, the rules of the auction, the wage gap. The translation is the whole game. When the question survives translation, economics measures power better than anyone. When it doesn’t, economics doesn’t see it at all.

Two strands of the history-of-economic-thought run straight through this apparatus. The institutional lineage—Veblen’s status competition through Coase, Williamson, North, and Acemoglu-Robinson—is the closest thing economics has to a continuous tradition that kept the word “power” in view; it lives in History of Economic Thought, the Institutionalist tradition. The formal apparatus of asymmetric information and mechanism design that gave economics its rediscovered power vocabulary in mathematical form is the subject of the chapter on Information economics and the game-theory revolution.

观点

“The current framework in antitrust…is unequipped to capture the architecture of market power in the modern economy.”

— Lina Khan, Yale Law Journal, 2017

Is the concentration debate a market-structure problem or a power problem?

The 2020s revived a fight economics thought it had settled: are big firms a pricing problem the markup numbers can track, or a power problem the numbers structurally miss? The answer decides whether economics already has the tools or needs to borrow new ones.

Does economics already see it, or does it need a new word?

“The populist antitrust movement seeks to weaken the consumer-welfare standard…Modern economic analysis, including recent work on market power and labor monopsony, provides the right tools to identify and remedy genuine competitive harm.”

— Carl Shapiro, “Antitrust in a Time of Populism,” International Journal of Industrial Organization, 2018

Shapiro is making the case that the apparatus is sufficient. The consumer-welfare standard is not a price-only blindfold; it is a framework that, run with modern industrial-organization tools and the new markup and monopsony evidence, captures what the populists are pointing at without surrendering rigor. He works from the formal lineage of information economics and mechanism design—the program traced in the History of Economic Thought’s Information economics chapter—where “power” is always cashed out as a measurable distortion. His worry about Khan’s alternative is discretion: a standard built on “power” rather than effects hands regulators a tool with no edge.

“Gauging real competition requires analyzing the underlying structure and dynamics of markets…not just whether consumer prices have risen in the immediate wake of a transaction.”

— Lina Khan, Yale Law Journal, 2017

Khan’s reply runs deeper than the empirics. The problem is not that economists have measured platform power badly; it is that the discipline asks the wrong first-order question—“what is the price effect?” instead of “who controls the architecture everyone else has to operate inside?” She draws on a tradition older than the markup literature: the Brandeisian and institutional line, running from Veblen through the antitrust reformers, that treated concentrated economic power as a political fact, not merely a pricing fact. That lineage lives in the History of Economic Thought’s Institutionalist tradition. The disagreement with Shapiro is not about a coefficient. It is about which question economics should treat as primary.

Where this leaves us

Economics sees a great deal when it looks at power—provided the question survives translation into market structure, asymmetric information, mechanism, or monopsony. Sometimes the translation is nearly lossless: Manning’s monopsony framework gives a quantitative grip on wage-setting power that older institutional accounts could only gesture at. Sometimes it is lossy: Khan’s platform-power argument leaves a residue behind when it is squeezed into the Herfindahl index. The honest reading is that economics traded breadth for precision in the 1870s and got a real bargain—the apparatus is sharper than anything that preceded it. The question for the next stage is not whether the translation is good. It is whether another discipline has spent the last seventy years mapping exactly the residue the translation leaves out.

One thing this walkthrough will not do: re-litigate whether Big Tech should be broken up. That policy question—remedies, enforcement, the specific case against the specific firms—lives in the walkthrough Should Big Tech be broken up? Here we stay at the level of apparatus: what each discipline can and cannot see.

The question Khan keeps circling—who decides?—has been asked rigorously somewhere else for a long time. Political scientists have an apparatus for power. Four of them, in fact, stacked in sequence, and the first one starts with a precision economics never tried to reach.

Stage 2 of 4

Political science on power: the four faces

“A has power over B to the extent that he can get B to do something that B would not otherwise do.”

— Robert Dahl, “The Concept of Power,” Behavioral Science, 1957 — first face

“Power is also exercised when A devotes his energies to creating or reinforcing social and political values…that limit the scope of the political process to public consideration of only those issues which are comparatively innocuous to A.”

— Peter Bachrach & Morton Baratz, “Two Faces of Power,” American Political Science Review, 1962 — second face

“Is it not the supreme exercise of power to get another or others to have the desires you want them to have—that is, to secure their compliance by controlling their thoughts and desires?”

— Steven Lukes, Power: A Radical View, 1974 — third face

“Power produces; it produces reality; it produces domains of objects and rituals of truth.”

— Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, 1975 — fourth face

Read these as a ladder, not a list. Each voice is a move outward—from the observable decision, to the agenda the decision gets to operate on, to the preferences themselves, to the very vocabulary in which preferences get formed. Each rung surfaces a kind of power the rung below cannot see. Economics, recall, sits on the bottom rung and has spent fifty years getting very good at it.

There is no economics chapter to lean on here, and that absence is the point. Political science treats power as its fundamental unit—the noun the whole discipline is built around—and it has theorized that noun in four successive moves, each developed because the previous one left something unseen.

First face: Dahl. Power as observable, behavioral conflict. A wants outcome X, B resists, A prevails. You can watch it happen and, in principle, measure it. This is the rung economics already stands on: Dahl’s “A gets B to do what B would not otherwise do” is the same shape as bargaining power in a bilateral monopoly. Same precision, same demand that power leave a visible trace in someone’s revealed behavior. A wage negotiation where the employer extracts terms the worker would not otherwise accept is a first-face exercise of power, and an economist and a political scientist would describe it almost identically.

Second face: Bachrach and Baratz. The power to keep things off the table—what they called non-decisions. The city council that never votes on a question because the question never reaches the agenda is exercising power as real as any recorded vote, and it leaves no trace in the voting record. This is where economics starts to strain: mechanism design and the rent-seeking literature reach part of the way, because rigging the rules of the game is a recognizable economic act, but the agenda-setting that happens before any game is specified sits mostly outside what the apparatus tracks.

Third face: Lukes. The power to shape what B wants in the first place. If A can make B desire the outcome that serves A, there is no observable conflict at all. B complies willingly, and the first two faces, both of which require visible resistance, register nothing. Lukes’s example is the worker who never demands workplace-safety regulation because he has internalized individual responsibility as the natural frame. Economics has a translation ready, endogenous preferences, and it is worth seeing exactly why the translation falls short. Endogenous-preference models let preferences move; they do not theorize who shapes which preferences through what mechanism, and that “who-which-how” is the entire content of Lukes’s claim. The economist’s version keeps the math and discards the politics.

Fourth face: Foucault. Here the translation breaks down completely, and it is worth resisting the reflex to make it work. Foucault is not describing A dominating B at all. He is describing power as productive: the discursive field that constitutes A and B as the kinds of subjects who can stand in an A-over-B relation in the first place. Power, on this account, does not merely repress pre-existing desires; it produces the categories, the norms, the very objects we then argue about. When Timothy Mitchell traces how “the economy” became a bounded object that experts could manage, a thing that did not exist as a concept before the mid-twentieth century, he is doing fourth-face analysis: the formation of the field economics takes as given. There is no economics apparatus for this, because economics needs the field already formed in order to start.

The ladder is cumulative, not a sequence of replacements. The first face is still the right tool for an observable bargaining conflict; the fourth does not make it obsolete. What the ladder shows is that “power” is not one phenomenon economics happens to under-measure. It is at least four, and the upper two are not under-measured by economics—they are unaddressed.

观点

“Is it not the supreme exercise of power to get another or others to have the desires you want them to have?”

— Steven Lukes, Power: A Radical View, 1974

Does the four-faces ladder really need all four rungs?

This is a fight inside political science, not between it and economics—and that is exactly why it is worth watching. A discipline that argues this hard about its own apparatus is a discipline taking the apparatus seriously.

Does the upper ladder do empirical work, or only literary work?

“The organized combat that produced winner-take-all inequality was fought and won far from the public eye…The crucial decisions were often non-decisions—the dogs that did not bark.”

— Jacob Hacker & Paul Pierson, Winner-Take-All Politics, 2010

Hacker and Pierson show the four-faces apparatus working as empirical history, not theory. Their account of why US inequality surged without producing a redistributive backlash is a second-face story told with evidence: organized business interests reshaped the agenda over decades so that the policies that might have arrested rising inequality were never seriously considered. The power lived in the questions that never reached a vote—the non-decisions. You cannot recover that from the voting record, which is precisely why a first-face, decision-counting method (the one closest to economics) would conclude that nobody exercised power at all.

“The productive part of the power literature is the part that has been formalized—the part that yields testable predictions. Claims about preference-shaping that cannot be falsified are not measurements; they are interpretations.”

— the rational-choice / positive political theory tradition, in the line from Buchanan & Tullock, The Calculus of Consent, 1962

The formal-theory rejoinder, steelmanned, is that the upper ladder buys depth with rigor it cannot repay. First-face bargaining and a good deal of second-face agenda control have been formalized inside the same toolkit economics uses—the public-choice tradition modeled rent-seeking and agenda manipulation precisely; that lineage runs through the History of Economic Thought’s Public choice tradition. But the third and fourth faces, the rejoinder presses, do not have testable formulations: you can always read a quiescent population as evidence of preference-shaping, which makes the claim unfalsifiable. The strongest version of this objection is not that the upper faces are wrong—it is that they describe rather than predict, and a discipline that wants to be a science should be honest about which it is doing.

Where this leaves us

The four faces are not a survey of rival frameworks; they are a ladder of what successive moves outward let you see. The first face overlaps cleanly with what economics already does, and does well. The second sits partly inside modern formal political theory and only partly inside economics, via mechanism design and rent-seeking. The third and fourth sit cleanly outside what economics’s apparatus can do natively—not because economics is sloppy, but because its apparatus is built around a different first-order question. Political science asks “who has power over whom, in what configuration?” as primary. Economics asks “what allocation results from incentive-compatible exchange?” as primary, and recovers power-talk only when the first question forces its way in. Neither is the wrong question. They are different questions, and the apparatus follows the question.

Political science, for all four faces, still mostly treats power as something actors have and wield—A over B, even when A is a coalition and the wielding is invisible. There is a third tradition that refuses that framing entirely. It treats power as something distributed across structures, sitting in the arrangement itself before any actor moves—and it has built tools to measure that distribution.

Stage 3 of 4

Sociology on power: structurally distributed

“The power elite is composed of men whose positions enable them to transcend the ordinary environments of ordinary men and women…they are in command of the major hierarchies and organizations of modern society.”

— C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite, 1956

“Capital can present itself in three fundamental guises: as economic capital…as cultural capital…and as social capital…Economic capital is at the root of all the other types of capital, but…the transformed, disguised forms of economic capital produce their most specific effects only to the extent that they conceal that economic capital is at their root.”

— Pierre Bourdieu, “The Forms of Capital,” 1986

Mills and Bourdieu agree on one thing and disagree on nearly everything else. Both insist power is not just something individuals wield—it is a property of how the social structure is arranged. But they locate the structure differently: Mills in the interlocking positions at the top, Bourdieu in the convertible forms of capital that reproduce advantage from one generation to the next. Neither claim translates cleanly into economics’s apparatus, and the failure of translation is, again, the substance.

Sociology’s distinctive move is to put power in the structure rather than in the person. Three traditions carry the weight, running from the most narrative to the most quantitative.

The power elite (Mills). Power as a function of position within interlocking institutional hierarchies. The chief executive of a major corporation, the four-star general, the cabinet secretary are not powerful because of personal traits; they are powerful because they occupy the commanding nodes of organizations, and those nodes connect. The operationalization is concrete—network analysis of corporate board interlocks, studies of elite circulation, the Domhoff tradition of mapping who sits on which boards. The revolving door between the Treasury, Goldman Sachs, and the Federal Reserve is a structural feature an economist can model as “regulatory capture”—but only after the sociologist has named the pattern that makes the capture legible.

Multi-capital (Bourdieu). Four forms of capital, economic, cultural, social, and symbolic, each convertible into the others through specific, often unnoticed mechanisms. Cultural capital is the load-bearing idea: the accent, the taste, the embodied ease in institutions that the right upbringing installs, and that converts into economic outcomes through hiring, networks, and the soft sorting of who “fits.” This is exactly the place to refuse the economics translation. Cultural capital is not human capital with a fashionable label. Human capital is productivity you carry; cultural capital is a signal of class position that pays off precisely because it is misrecognized as natural merit rather than inherited advantage. When elite-school graduates out-earn equally credentialed non-elite graduates, economics records the gap as an unexplained residual after controlling for skill. Bourdieu’s apparatus names the mechanism the residual is made of. That difference, residual versus mechanism, is the whole stage.

Class as control (Wright). The analytical-Marxism wing, and the one most legible to an economically trained reader. Erik Olin Wright’s Class Counts defines class position as control over productive assets—means of production, organizational assets, skill assets, labor power—and operationalizes it quantitatively, with survey data and a typology that survives statistical scrutiny. Wright’s famous case is the manager: economically a worker, selling labor for a wage, but occupying a contradictory class location because the job confers control over other workers. The category does work that occupation codes and income deciles cannot. Wright is the bridge: a sociologist whose apparatus an economist can engage directly, without first conceding the harder Bourdieusian claims.

Wright’s typology is a discrete classification, not an equation—but it is rigorous in the way economics respects. Class location is cross-tabulated on two axes: ownership of the means of production, and authority/skill within production. The manager falls in a cell that is propertyless (a worker, by the first axis) yet authority-holding (aligned with capital, by the second)—the “contradictory location” that simple owner-versus-worker schemes cannot represent.

直觉模式

Sociology keeps measuring things economics throws into the error term. The elite network, the cultural-capital conversion, the manager who is both worker and boss—each is a structural feature that an economic regression absorbs as “unexplained variance after controls.” The sociologist’s claim is not that economics got the number wrong. It is that the number is the structure, and economics has decided by convention to call the structure noise.

观点

“The transformed, disguised forms of economic capital produce their most specific effects only to the extent that they conceal…that economic capital is at their root.”

— Pierre Bourdieu, “The Forms of Capital,” 1986

Does cultural capital add anything economics cannot already measure?

Either Bourdieu named a real mechanism economics structurally cannot see, or he relabeled preference heterogeneity and signaling that economics already prices. The answer decides whether sociology is doing distinct work or rebranding.

Mechanism or residual?

“Middle-class parents engage in concerted cultivation…working-class and poor parents…the accomplishment of natural growth. These differences…are then translated into unequal advantages as children move through institutions.”

— Annette Lareau, Unequal Childhoods, 2003

Lareau is the cleanest empirical demonstration that the cultural-capital mechanism is real and observable, not just theorized. She followed families and watched the transmission happen: the middle-class child learns to address a doctor as an equal, to contest a teacher’s grade, to treat institutions as terrain to be navigated; the working-class child learns deference. Neither child knows they are being trained. Years later the trained dispositions read to employers and admissions officers as confidence, drive, “cultural fit”—and the advantage looks like the child’s own merit. The mechanism is exactly the one a regression cannot see, because the regression observes the outcome and codes the cause as unobserved heterogeneity.

“Skill begets skill; early investments raise the returns to later investments. The gaps that open in early childhood—in cognitive and especially non-cognitive skills—account for much of the inequality we observe in adult outcomes.”

— James Heckman, on the technology of skill formation, 2006–2013

Heckman is the strongest version of “economics already has this.” His skill-formation framework is not a dismissal of the Lareau findings; it is a rival explanation of the same families. The middle-class children acquire non-cognitive skills early, those skills are genuinely productive, and the labor market rewards them for good reason—no misrecognition required. Where Bourdieu sees class advantage disguised as merit, Heckman sees merit that happens to be unequally produced by unequal early environments. The policy implication is sharply different: Heckman says invest in early childhood to build the skills; Bourdieu implies the advantage is partly a positional con that more skill-building will not dissolve. The data underdetermine which reading is right, and that is precisely why the apparatus you bring decides what you conclude.

Where this leaves us

Sociology measures things economics measures as residuals. Mills’s elite circulation and Bourdieu’s cultural-capital conversion are not puzzles economics has solved; they are mechanisms economics records as “unexplained variance” once human capital is controlled for. Wright’s class-as-control framework is rigorous enough that an economically trained reader can engage it on its own terms. The harder claim—the one this stage is really about—is that economics’s apparatus cannot see what sociology sees, because economics’s measurement convention is to absorb the structure-effect into the error term and call it heterogeneity. A reader who leaves this stage thinking “we just need better controls” has missed the argument: the structure is not a confound to be controlled away. It is the thing being explained.

The Wright wing borders directly on the question of whether Marx was right about class—a substantive argument with its own labor-theory-of-value and surplus-value disputes. That fight belongs to the walkthrough Was Marx right about anything? The narrower question here is only whether sociology’s class-as-control apparatus does distinct work. It does.

Three apparatuses, then. Some of what they cover overlaps; some of what each sees is invisible to the others. The last stage asks the question the whole walkthrough has been building toward: where do these frameworks actually meet and do the same work—and where does economics have no analog at all, not even a bad one?

Stage 4 of 4

Integration: where the apparatuses meet, where they don’t

“Countries differ in their economic success because of their different institutions, the rules influencing how the economy works, and the incentives that motivate people…Inclusive economic institutions…are underpinned by…a broad distribution of political power.”

— Daron Acemoglu & James Robinson, Why Nations Fail, 2012

Acemoglu and Robinson are economics’s most successful recent attempt to compress structural-power claims into a form the discipline can run with. “Institutions are the distribution of political power, made durable”—that is a power-distribution thesis dressed in the language of incentives and rules. It also marks the boundary: the questions where this compression succeeds are where the disciplines converge, and the questions where it fails are where the other two are still doing work economics cannot.

Map the three apparatuses against each other and a pattern appears: three places they converge enough to be doing the same work, and three places economics has no analog at all.

Where they converge.

  1. Monopsony. The industrial-organization economist using Manning and Azar-Marinescu-Steinbaum and the political scientist using a first-face account of employer dominance arrive at the same phenomenon from opposite directions, and their findings point the same way. Employers have wage-setting power; workers have less exit than the competitive model assumes; the wage sits below marginal product. The convergence is genuine—and it is worth noting it took economics until 2003 or so to walk back to common ground the structural account had occupied for decades.
  2. Institutions as rules. The modern institutional-economics line—Coase to Williamson to North to Acemoglu-Robinson—does work that overlaps with both Mills’s positional sociology and the first-and-second-face political apparatus. “Inclusive versus extractive institutions” is a power-distribution claim with the word “power” swapped for “rules of the game.” When AJR say extractive institutions concentrate power and inclusive ones disperse it, a sociologist hears Mills and a political scientist hears the second face.
  3. Mechanism design as institution design. Designing an auction, a matching market, or a voting rule under incentive constraints is designing a power architecture. The political theorist who wants a voting rule that aggregates preferences without manipulability is doing mechanism design whether or not they use the word—the Gibbard-Satterthwaite theorem is as much theirs as economics’s. This is the convergence economics is proudest of, and rightly.

Where economics has no analog.

  1. Foucauldian productive power. The constitution of “the economy” as a manageable object, the formation of the subjectivities that economic governance then acts on—these are not questions economics can pose, even by stretching. The nearest analogs—Akerlof and Kranton’s identity economics, McCloskey’s rhetoric-of-economics, the social-norms branch of behavioral economics—study how preferences and identities get shaped. None theorizes power-knowledge as constitutive of the discursive field itself, which is the actual Foucauldian claim. This is the clean blind spot.
  2. Bourdieu’s convertibility mechanism. Economics measures the residual; sociology names the mechanism that produces it. Closing this gap would require economics to adopt an apparatus for how cultural capital converts into economic outcomes through misrecognition—and that apparatus, built out honestly, would look like sociology, not economics.
  3. Third-face preference-shaping at scale. Endogenous-preference economics moves preferences around inside an equilibrium; Lukes’s third face accounts for who shapes which preferences through which mechanism. The gap is methodological, not merely empirical—it is about what counts as a thing worth modeling, and economics’s answer leaves the shaping itself outside the frame.

Notice the asymmetry one more time, because it has been quietly structuring the whole walkthrough. Stages 1 and 4 link out to a history of economic thought; Stages 2 and 3 link almost nowhere, because there is no history-of-economic-thought chapter for the four faces or for Bourdieu. That is not an oversight in the cross-links. It is the finding: the lineages that map power best run outside the discipline whose apparatus this walkthrough started from.

观点

“Economists discuss a narrower range of questions about the economy than the public does—and the questions they leave out are disproportionately questions about power and distribution.”

— paraphrasing the findings of work on economists and public discourse, in the line of Glaeser and Goldsmith-Pinkham, 2022

Is economics’s re-import of power real apparatus, or borrowed vocabulary?

Monopsony, mechanism design, AJR institutions—economics is talking about power again. The question is whether it changed what it measures, or just changed what it calls things.

Has economics caught up, or only reached the easy half?

“Labor markets are pervasively non-competitive…Antitrust law, properly understood, has a central role to play in addressing the resulting employer power over wages.”

— Suresh Naidu, Eric Posner & Glen Weyl, “Antitrust Remedies for Labor Market Power,” Harvard Law Review, 2018

Naidu, Posner, and Weyl are the strongest evidence that the re-import is real apparatus, not branding. They take the monopsony finding to its policy conclusion: if employer power over wages is pervasive and measurable, then antitrust, a body of law built to police market power, should police labor-market power too. This is economics doing exactly what the steelman of the re-import claims: turning a power phenomenon the older apparatus assumed away into estimates, then into enforceable policy. The institutional line that culminates in Acemoglu-Robinson, traced in the History of Economic Thought’s Institutionalist tradition, gives the move its intellectual pedigree: economics has a continuous, if thin, thread that kept power in view, and the 2010s thickened it.

“The re-import is real but bounded. Economics reabsorbed the forms of power that reduce to measurable distortions and left untouched the forms that do not—which are precisely the forms the public means when it talks about power.”

— the history-of-economics critique, in the line of Beatrice Cherrier and Aurélien Saïdi on the post-marginalist narrowing

The historian’s rejoinder accepts the monopsony and markup gains and then asks what was not re-imported. The forms of power that came back are the ones that reduce to a measurable distortion—a wage gap, a markup, an institutional rule. The forms that stayed out are agenda-setting, preference-shaping, and discursive constitution, which is to say the upper three faces and the Bourdieusian mechanism. This wing reads the post-2008 revival not as economics catching up but as economics reaching the edge of its own method and stopping there—the live, plural state of which is the subject of the History of Economic Thought’s Modern pluralism chapter, where the market-power renaissance and the analytical-Marxism wing sit side by side as unfinished business. The gap between what economics measures and what the public means by power is, on this account, not a frontier that will close. It is a boundary the method draws.

The verdict

So: what is power, and which discipline sees it best? The honest answer is that “best” depends entirely on which power-question you are asking, and the question partitions cleanly enough to commit to a verdict rather than a shrug. No single discipline wins. Each wins a kind of question, and naming which is the payoff of the whole walkthrough.

  • “Who decided policy X, and through what coalition?” Political science wins, decisively. The four-faces apparatus—especially the second face—is built exactly for this, and economics has no native vocabulary for agenda-setting or non-decisions.
  • “What is the welfare cost of monopsony power in the labor market?” Economics wins. The Manning and Azar-Marinescu-Steinbaum framework delivers quantitative purchase political science does not try to provide.
  • “How do structural inequalities reproduce across generations?” Sociology wins. Bourdieu’s multi-capital model and Wright’s class-as-control framework see mechanisms economics records only as residuals.
  • “How does the very vocabulary in which we argue about the economy get constituted?” Sociology and Foucauldian-influenced political science win cleanly. Economics has no apparatus for this; even posing the question requires stepping outside the discipline.
  • “How should we design an institution—an auction, a voting rule, a market—given incentive compatibility?” Economics wins, through mechanism design—and the political theorist who tries it without the formalism usually ends up importing it.

The boundary cases prove the rule rather than dissolving it. Monopsony with institutional racism layered in, antitrust where market structure and political-economy lobbying intertwine—these do not have a single winning discipline. They require sequencing apparatuses: the economist measures the wage gap, the sociologist names the structure that sorts who faces it, the political scientist traces the coalition that keeps the remedy off the agenda. Economics’s partial re-import of power is real, and it is incomplete, and the incompleteness is not a temporary lag. A reader who carries away “economics has finally caught up” has missed the argument. Economics has caught up on the questions its method was built to reach, and it has not caught up on the others—and the others are not minor. They are most of what people mean when they say the word.

Where this leaves us

We started with Lina Khan arguing that antitrust’s vocabulary makes a whole kind of power invisible. The walkthrough turned that complaint into a tour. Economics encoded power into four pieces of measurable apparatus, market structure, asymmetric information, mechanism, and monopsony, and got very good at the power those pieces can hold. Political science built a four-rung ladder that climbs from the observable decision all the way to the constitution of the field, and the upper rungs are simply not on economics’s map. Sociology put power in the structure rather than the person, and measures the elite networks and capital-conversions economics files under unexplained variance. The integration stage found three real convergences (monopsony, institutions-as-rules, mechanism design) and three places economics has no analog: Foucauldian productive power, Bourdieu’s misrecognition mechanism, and third-face preference-shaping.

The verdict is a partition, not a winner. Political science owns the coalition question; economics owns the quantitative wage-setting and mechanism-design questions; sociology owns the structural-reproduction question; sociology and Foucauldian political science own the question of how the vocabulary itself gets made. Economics narrowed “power” to market-structural categories in the 1870s, bought precision with the trade, and has spent the last two decades buying some of the breadth back—genuinely, on the questions its method can reach, and not at all on the ones it can’t. The next time someone asks which discipline understands power, the useful reply is a question back: power to do what? The answer tells you which apparatus to pick up.