Bankers are nowadays generally despised. A while ago I ran into a banker who told me that he started lying about his profession to avoid being verbally assaulted.

But other professions provoke a fair amount of contempt as well. When I decided that the main character in my last novel, Tooth and Nail, had to be an economist, I realized that economists are equally disliked.

A Dutch columnist once quipped: “An economist is a person who disagrees with another economist.” He was not entirely wrong.

Recently I was invited to speak at a symposium about economics. Captains of industry were invited along with famous economists, zoologists and a conductor. I was one of the few novelists. I guess that’s what happens when you decide to write a book about an economist.

Out of sheer curiosity I accepted the invitation. I wanted to see economists up-close.

The symposium started with a rather official sit-down-dinner. I saw a right-wing Dutch politician about whom I had made less flattering remarks in a column. He looked at me conspicuously while munching on some peanuts.

My lecture was set for the second and last day of the symposium, which took place in a large church in the Dutch city of Leiden. One of the advantages of secularization is that churches have become available for other means. I was asked to speak about economics within human relationships—a subject about which a novelist should have something to say.

I spoke for about 40 minutes and then there was Q&A.

On the first row, a man in his 40s started speaking even before he had a mike. When he finally had the mike he shouted: “You said nothing new. This is all common knowledge.” Then the man said something about my mouth.

I believe it’s not done to use the Q&A for comments on the physical aspects of the speaker, but you should give the members in the audience the opportunity to vent their rage.

Since I’m not only a novelist but also a columnist, I’m used to getting angry letters. But it’s different when the anger isn’t coming through my inbox; the angry person was sitting a mere 20 feet away from me.

I said something to the degree of: “Well, perhaps for you everything I had to say was common knowledge, but it’s possible that other people in the audience have other opinions and we will find out in the next few minutes.”

But the angry man wasn’t finished yet.

He said: “Is this your answer? This is unbelievable.”

I answered: “A friend of mine who is a philosopher once said that philosophy was celebrating the obvious. I’m not a philosopher but sometimes literature should also celebrate the obvious. This my answer.”

Then we moved on the next question.