EVANSTON, IL — Fresh off his Nobel Prize win, Northwestern University’s own Joel Mokyr has suddenly found himself the center of a scandal so bizarrely wholesome-turned-provocative that even the most seasoned econ journalists aren’t sure what subcategory of The Economist it belongs in.
Just weeks after the October announcement of his prize, internet sleuths unearthed Mokyr’s long-running OnlyFans account, where the world-renowned economic historian—posting under the username “TheInvisibleHans”—has been delivering topless lectures on industrial revolutions, labor markets, and technological change for a devoted niche audience of “economics fetishists.”
A Subscription Feed Like No Other
According to his fans, Mokyr’s content was a “hidden gem”—and occasionally a hidden pec—featuring live sessions with titles such as:
“Elasticity & Lace: Why Demand Curves Aren’t the Only Things Sloping Downward ;)”
“The Marginal Utility of Oil… Baby Oil”
“Feather Boas & Fiscal Policy”
“General Equilibrium, Specifically These Abs”
One subscriber, identifying only as “KeynesDaddy92,” gushed, “Look, I never understood productivity growth until I watched Professor M oil up while walking through innovation theory. Suddenly everything clicked. And also… wow.”
Another fan, “HotForHeterodox,” wrote, “It’s the only place on the internet where someone can explain the history of European industrialization wearing nothing but a bowtie and suspenders. That’s real intellectual stimulation, if you know what I mean.”
A longtime supporter known as “ParetoOptimalPapi” offered the highest praise: “I come for the models. I stay for the models. Pareto? More like Bare-eto.”
The Wardrobe That Shook the Academy
Mokyr’s on-camera attire—described by one subscriber as “low-key academic but high-key Renaissance cosplay thirst trap”—included:
A velvet smoking jacket worn open over his Nobel-medal chest
A gladiator-style leather harness “representing the disciplined forces of market competition”
A pair of gold shorts with “Laissez-Faire” embroidered across the back
A sequined ascot he wore during his famed “Blingonomics Live AMA”
Mokyr’s Response: Conflicted, Shirtless
Reached for comment outside the Kellogg Global Hub—shirt on, though visibly begrudgingly—Mokyr said:
“I’ll be honest: I planned to shut the page down after the Nobel announcement. Not because I’m embarrassed—hardly—but because I assumed the world had enough of my torso. But suddenly views skyrocketed. Subscriptions went wild. At this point I’d be committing an economically irrational act to quit.”
He went on to explain that what began as a side hustle “to live comfortably on a professor’s salary” has rapidly evolved into something much larger.
“With the Nobel money and the OnlyFans surge, I’m now seriously considering a second home in Scottsdale,” he said. “And maybe a nice boat for Lake Michigan. A historically informed yacht, of course. Eighteenth-century Dutch styling. Very tasteful.”
A New Theory Is Born
Colleagues say Mokyr has already begun formulating a new research paradigm inspired by his unexpected digital fame. Tentatively titled “The Ring Light Hypothesis of Creative Disruption,” it proposes that unexpected technological complements—like high-end lighting, microphone stands, and satin backdrop curtains—may accelerate the production of cultural capital, intellectual influence, and thirst-based engagement metrics.
“Honestly,” Mokyr added with a grin, “we may be looking at a whole new field here. If the Nobel committee is open-minded, it could be another two-fer.”
Economics departments around the world are watching closely—some with clipboards, others with popcorn—eager to learn whether the next great breakthrough in economic history will once again be delivered by a shirtless man in a velvet sash explaining comparative advantage while striking a surprisingly athletic pose.
No word on whether or how many additional NU professors may be considering a similar side hustle. However, several MCAS and Kellogg students tell Catnip that numerous office hours have been cancelled recently coinciding with a campus-wide drain on internet bandwidth and a massive spike in baby oil and glitter deliveries to campus via Amazon. One thing is certain: Evanston will never look at ring lights the same way again.