“Given how naturally narcissistic and arrogant I am, it was excellent,” he laughs. “I do have a certain superficial glibness.” To celebrate the end of his election, Munger decided to drive the length of North Carolina’s coast for three days straight, with his election manager Barbara Howe. Howe, who is now representing the Libertarian Party in her run for state governor, fondly recollects her road trip with Munger in his van—“it was a big van, a really big van,” she keeps repeating—along I-64. At the very end of the trip, “we set up a yard sign on the ocean on the beach,” she recounts. What transpired next is all captured on camera. In the video, Munger looks dead straight into the camera lens, his tweed jacket and loose slacks whipping about in the wind. “This is really the only way that a Libertarian or any third party candidate can get any attention,” he proclaims, before calmly walking into the waves. A few seconds later, already waist deep and in true Munger fashion, he swan dives into the ice-blue November water.
M
uch like the duality of characters he exhibited in college, Munger still has two sides to his personality. Publicly, he’s a bit of a big man on campus. He likes people and he likes talking. Yet in private— when he’s not running for governor
or teaching Chinese bureaucrats— Munger is more quiet and reserved. “I would say he’s actually an introvert,” claims DeMarchi, who initially bonded with Munger by spending “a bazillion hours” on an online strategy game called Heroes of Might and Magic. “The way we met was walking around campus and talking about models,” DeMarchi says. “He’s got a big personality and he’s funny and he’s real good at [game theory/economic] models.” The trajectory of Munger’s life is illuminative. Doing everything right does not guarantee success. But neither do past actions and failures condemn us to a future of similar path. Willpower, with a certain measure of selfconviction and panache, can achieve phoenix-like transformations. From the unlikeliest of places and from the poorest of students came a respected academic. Fickle chance may have an unsung role. But the possibility of redemption never dies. For Munger, teaching is a foremost priority. For what he would like to be remembered, he readily responds: “in writing and in teaching.” Munger hasn’t showed signs of abating or selfpity and plans to continue his educational responsibilities. Oh, and one more thing: “It turns out when he jumped into the ocean, he had pneumonia, though we didn’t know it at the time,” Barbara Howe laughs. “He recovered.” n
PHOTOS BY SOPHIA DURAND
traditionally liberal positions such as supporting gay marriage and a more welcoming “high wall, wide gate” immigration policy, while pushing forward some more free-market positions like a school-voucher program in low-income areas. People agreed with him. George McClendon, the then-dean of Trinity, officially endorsed Munger. He received about 100 campaign contributions from Duke faculty and students. The Chronicle’s independent editorial board officially endorsed his candidacy, calling Munger “refreshingly honest.” Ruefully, Munger observes that “if the election had been held on Duke’s campus, I would have had a shot.” Munger lost the election, though really in some ways, Munger insists, he won: “My very humble goal for success was to get 2 percent,” which would keep the Libertarians on the ballot; he received 2.7 percent. “So I won.” Though he was severely underfunded, Munger nonetheless found seeing theory in action exciting. Munger now recommends, mostly seriously, that all political scientists run for local office at some point. “You should do things you’re not good at,” he muses. Work it harder, make it better—the c0llege- slacker-turnedacademic-star mentality was coming back.
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