Martha L. Olney
Adjunct Professor, Economics

Martha L. Olney, an economic historian, is Adjunct Professor of Economics and has been on the Berkeley faculty since 1992. Her book Buy Now, Pay Later: Advertising, Credit, and Consumer Durables in the 1920's (University of North Carolina Press, 1991) is considered to be a seminal work on the topic. She writes and lectures extensively on economic history and consumer credit issues and teaches economic history and macroeconomic theory. The committee attributed her great success as a teacher to her finely honed organization, her deep understanding of what works, and her love of the material. Committee members were amazed at her ability to get all students engaged in Pimentel Hall, even those in the last rows of the auditorium. They noted one student comment in particular: "You are one of the best professors I've ever had. I never missed one lecture because I got so much out of it. (And this is amazing considering I am one of the laziest people alive and your lecture was at 8 am.)" She received her B.S. from the University of Redlands and her Ph.D. from the University of California at Berkeley.

Statement of Teaching Philosophy

Tuesday, May 14, 2002, the last day of classes

6:00 a.m. It's not often – I hope – that I will wake up in a nursing home, but today is one of those days. I in the recliner; Uncle David in the bed. I've been here since Friday. My brother will arrive soon. Uncle David's brain tumor will suck the last bits of life out of him some time today.

7:45 a.m. In some inexplicable way, I need to be with my students today. So here I am, on a bright, glorious, warm, May morning, latte in hand, sitting outside Dwinelle, reveling in the surround-me-and-fill-me concert raining down from the Campanile.

8:00 a.m. Soon 155 Dwinelle will fill with 400 Intermediate Macro students, all eager to hear my "concluding remarks." Well, some will be eager; others want to know about the final. They show up knowing I spent the last four days holding the hand of a dying man.

My lecture is standard fare: the topics we covered, how it all fits together, what I hope you retain. I fancy myself a realist; in six or twelve months, they are unlikely to remember any of the formulas I have taught. The last page of my notes lists five things I hope they will retain: "(A) Helpful short-run policy may harm the long run. (B) Most domestic policy is directed at the short run. (C) Most international aid policy is directed at the long run. (D) Education matters. (E) When we disagree with one another, look to each other's assumptions to determine the source of our disagreement." I say all that.

But today I can't stop there. And so I look at the students and tell them what I know: what matters most in life is love. Love what you do. Love who you are. Love those around you. I don't really care if you wind up being an economist; I do care that you wind up doing something that you love.

I thought I was being a bit soppy. But as I concluded, the students clapped, they stood, they cheered, some wiped away tears. It was an astounding magical moment. All of us there together, caught up in something bigger than ourselves. Community, love, learning, life, death.

1:00 p.m. Walking toward Sproul Plaza, I imagine my aunt and uncle, both Old Blues, at Sather Gate some 55 years earlier. I smile. We are part of a never-ending path, where life and learning mix together, lessons are learned, some are remembered, lives are changed, and we pass it on. What a gift. Go Bears.

1:02 p.m. My cell phone rings. Uncle David died just minutes ago.