Author: JW Mason

Help, I’m Stuck in a Fortune Cookie Factory

Remember that old joke?

The Slack Wire was hit by a bunch of spam comments just now, which I promptly deleted. Whatever, it’s a blog, happens every day, right? The usual, a bunch of links to sites selling dresses, shoes, thermometers. (Thermometers?)

Except: the text accompanying the links was not the usual spamglish (“Thank You for a Most interesting discution”) or – what the cleverer spambots do – quotes from earlier comments. It was: “This is my job. I am so sorry.”

I’m sorry too, “Amanda.” All the wonderful new forms of creative intellectual work that could be opened up by the Internet, and we’ve stuck you doing this.

An Ant Not Even Thinking About Pissing on Cotton

Over at Crooked Timber, they’re discussing Martha Nussbaum’s new book on “Why Democracy Needs the Humanities.” Sounds like a real stinker. (Altho the thread has alerted me to the fact that I urgently need to read Randall Jarrell’s Pictures from an Institution, so I guess Nussbaum is to thank for that.) Lots of good criticism of the book, there and at the discussion CT is responding to, but most everyone seems to accept at least the premise that there is a crisis in the humanities —  a “silent crisis,” says Nussbaum. Or as representative CT commenter puts it, “you won’t be able to get a BA degree from a land-grant university in twenty years.”

Really? This must be an extrapolation from the past 20 years, yes? So, ok, what’s happened to the humanities since 1990?

Here are the numbers, from the 2010 Digest of Education Statistics:

 
The federal government doesn’t designate particular subjects as “liberal arts,” as far as I know, so I’ve presented two possible definitions. The blue line is the narrower one: English, visual & performing arts, foreign languages, philosophy, and area/ethnic/gender studies. The red line includes all those, plus social sciences, psychology, interdisciplinary studies, and architecture.
What do we see? Well, there was a decline in the share of humanities degrees in the 1970s. But there was some recovery in the 1980s, and since 1990, the proportion has been flat: around 20% (for the broad measure) or a bit over 10% (for the narrow — basically English and its satellites — measure). Whether these proportions ought to be higher, I couldn’t say; but if crisis means a situation that can’t persist, then this is clearly not a crisis. Or at least, it’s a really, really silent one.

Political Economy 101

When he’s right, he’s right:

everything we’re seeing makes sense if you think of the Right as representing the interests of rentiers, of creditors who have claims from the past — bonds, loans, cash — as opposed to people actually trying to make a living through producing stuff. Deflation is hell for workers and business owners, but it’s heaven for creditors. … thinking of what’s happening as the rule of rentiers, who are getting their interests served at the expense of the real economy, helps make sense of the situation.

Or, almost right. Because it isn’t just the Right…

EDIT: It’s interesting to note how reflexively DeLong shied away from this thought when it occurred to him a while back, with the ludicrous-on-its-face argument that only “coupon-clippers with their portfolios 100% in government bonds” could have an interest in deflation. The existence of rentiers as a distinct social class is an unthought in respectable circles. Which shows how impressively disrespectable Krugman is becoming.

The Beatings Will Continue…

This may be the answer to this.

Shorter DeLong:

It is perfectly obvious that the cause of the Great Recession was an insufficient supply of government debt. And it is perfectly obvious that we need to reduce the supply of government debt.

Let me spoil the joke by explaining it.

The argument that the collapse in demand for currently produced goods and services in 2007-2009 was due to an excess demand for AAA assets, i.e. government debt, is a useful one, as far as it goes. But the strange thing is that the New Keynesians making it don’t seem to think it conveys any information about the long-term fiscal position. Presumably, if we’d known about the coming excess demand for government debt, we’d have wanted higher deficits throughout the 2000s, instead of having to ramp them up suddenly at the end of the decade. And presumably, the circumstances that led to higher demand for government debt in 2007-2009 can be expected to recur. So maybe we want to prepare for them going forward? But no, we still need the debt-GDP ratio to be “sustainable” — a term which is never defined, except it’s always lower than where we are now. The fact that the ratio was too low, rather than too high, in the recent past somehow fails to imply that it could be too low, rather than too high, in the future.

Let me come at this another way. Check out the entrants in the Peterson Institute budget beauty contest. All of them are considered by the judges to have rocked the swimsuit competition “put the federal debt on a sustainable trajectory through 2035.” But what does this mean? The fiscal positions at the end date range from a surplus of 0.8% of GDP to a deficit of 3.7%. Debt-GDP ratios range from 30% to 81.7%. The highest-deficit entrant (EPI’s, for what it’s worth) is near the very high end of the historical range, and essentially identical to the CBO’s current-policy baseline. If current policy is sustainable, why are we having this conversation? But of course, Peterson gives no indication how “sustainable” is being defined (or for that matter what they’re assuming about GDP growth and the interest rate on government debt, quite important for these exercises).

Mainstream discourse on budget deficits (as with inflation) combines an absolute conviction that the current debt-GDP ratio is too high, with a complete lack of principles for telling us what the optimal ratio might be.

Some Should Do One, Others the Other

A friend writes:

In August 1968 I was on an SDS trip to Cuba, one of about 30 student activists from around the US. One day we went to the mission of the Provisional Revolutionary Government of South Vietnam in Havana (it had been called the National Liberation Front but had recently taken on a new name). We decided to see if the NLF, as we called them, could settle some debates in the US antiwar movement. After exchanging pleasantries with the representative of the PRG/NLF, we had the following exchange.

SDS students: We have a debate in the antiwar movement. Some of us think we should organize militant, obstructive demonstrations that are openly in support of victory for the NLF. Others argue we should organize much larger, peaceful, legal demonstrations around the demand of immediate US withdrawal from Vietnam. Which should we do?

PRG/NLF rep: Some of you should do one, and others should do the other.

SDS students: We have another debate in the antiwar movement. When a male antiwar activist gets a draft induction notice, some of us think he should refuse to serve, either going to jail or going to Canada. Others of us argue that he should quietly go into the military to organize among the soldiers for an end to the war. Which should we do?

PRG/NLF rep: Some of you should do one, and others should do the other. And when an antiwar activist goes into the military and ends up in Vietnam, there are ways to arrange contact between the activist and the local NLF fighters.

After that exchange, I began to see why the NLF was so successful in their struggle to force the US out of Vietnam.

Here is a parable for the Left! How many pointless debates about tactics could be avoided if someone just said, “Some of you should do one, and others should do the other.” Except in the case of a specific, finite resource, and a decision-making body able to allocate it, the merits of one approach aren’t an argument against another.

Peaceful demonstrations, or direct action? Challenge foreclosures in court, or block them in the street? Work within the Democrats, or build a third party? Support organizing and contract fights by AFL-CIO unions, or help build rank-and-file insurgencies? Try to shift the Obama administration from the inside, or pressure it from the outside? Debate the economics mainstream, or build a heterodox alternative? Nationalize the banks, or shoot the bankers? Fight for women’s access to male-dominated professions, or for greater social recognition of traditionally female activities? Well-funded public universities, or an end to credentialism? Green capitalism, or cooperatives? Theory, or practice? Recycle, reuse, or reduce? Some of us should do one. And others should do the other.

Anything We Can Do, We Can Afford

John Maynard Keynes, in a 1942 BBC address:

Let us not submit to the vile doctrine of the nineteenth century that every enterprise must justify itself in pounds, shillings and pence of cash income … Why should we not add in every substantial city the dignity of an ancient university or a European capital … an ample theater, a concert hall, a dance hall, a gallery, cafes, and so forth. Assuredly we can afford this and so much more. Anything we can actually do, we can afford. … We are immeasurably richer than our predecessors. Is it not evident that some sophistry, some fallacy, governs our collective action if we are forced to be so much meaner than they in the embellishments of life? …

Yet these must be only the trimmings on the more solid, urgent and necessary outgoings on housing the people, on reconstructing industry and transport and on replanning the environment of our daily life. Not only shall we come to possess these excellent things. With a big programme carried out at a regulated pace we can hope to keep employment good for many years to come. We shall, in fact, have built our New Jerusalem out of the labour which in our former vain folly we were keeping unused and unhappy in enforced idleness.

 (Collected Works XXVII)

Relevant today, obviously: Thirteen million people unemployed, 25 percent of industrial capacity idle, and capital, if the interest rate is any guide, more abundant than it’s been in decades. If our masters were only interested in what’s best for everyone, as they always claim, now would be the moment for new bridges, hospitals, subways, colleges, and public housing, and for parks, theaters, museums, and cafes. Not to mention wind farms. A recession isn’t the time to trim sails and take short views, it’s the time to go long. So let’s build that New Jerusalem.

Glorious Counterrevolution

It’s September of 2007. Though almost no one realizes it, the so-called Great Moderation is ending. The housing bubble has just peaked, a rolling financial conflagration has already started, and the US economy is descending into its steepest downturn since the 1930s.

And a well-known economist is saying:

One of the most striking facts about macropolicy is that we have progressed amazingly. … In my opinion, better policy, particularly on the part of the Federal Reserve, is directly responsible for the low inflation and the virtual disappearance of the business cycle in the last 25 years. ..

The story of stabilization policy of the last quarter century is one of amazing success. We have seen the triumph of sensible ideas and have reaped the rewards in terms of macroeconomic performance. The costly wrong turn in ideas and macropolicy of the 1960s and 1970s has been righted and the future of stabilization looks bright.

Who is it?

Must be one of those smug right-wing Chicago types, right? Maybe Robert Lucas, whose claim that the “central problem of depression-prevention has been solved” was so widely mocked when the crisis broke out?

Nope. It’s Christina Romer, soon to be Obama’s top economist.

As Obama’s CEA chair, by all accounts Romer led the pro-stimulus forces in the administration against the forces of austerity. Yet there she is, in Berkeley in 2007, speaking without irony of the “glorious counterrevolution” against Keynes in the 1980s:

The 1960s represented the beginning of a long dark period for macroeconomic policy…. [But] since 1985, inflation has been below 4% every single year and has averaged just 2.5%. Real short-run macroeconomic performance has been similarly splendid. … As someone who started her career saying there had not been a stabilization of the postwar economy, I now have to admit there most certainly has been – it just started in 1985, not 1947. ..

What stops this story from being a good morality play is that good hasn’t triumphed entirely. At the same time that we have seen a glorious counterrevolution in the ideas and conduct of short-run stabilization policy, we have seen a remarkable lack of progress in long-run fiscal policy. In this area, the legacy of 1960s beliefs is still very much with us and may threaten the long-run stability of the American economy. … The revolutionary idea of the 1960s concerning long-run fiscal policy was that it was not important to balance the budget even over a period of several years. Rather, persistent budget deficits could actually be desirable because they would lower unemployment and move the economy toward a more desirable path for real output.

In other words, there is one flaw in the amazingly amazing progress in economic policy since the 1980s. It’s not rising private debt, financial deregulation, or stagnant wages and soaring income inequality, none of which she mentions. It’s that people need to worry more about the federal debt.

True, she admits, there’s no concrete evidence for any economic costs to public indebtedness over its historic range.[1] But that shouldn’t stop us worrying:

The consequences of persistent deficits may only be felt over a very long horizon. … It is also possible that the effects of persistent deficits are highly nonlinear. Perhaps over a wide range, deficits and the cumulative public debt really do have little impact on the economy. But, at some point, the debt burden reaches a level that threatens the confidence of investors. Such a meltdown and a sudden stop of lending would unquestionably have enormous real consequences.

Maybe. But ideas have consequences, too. For instance, Romer’s argument here is the same argument, almost verbatim, that would be used by her opponents in the administration just a year and a half later, when she was pushing for a larger stimulus:

Romer’s analysis, deeply informed by her work on the Depression, suggested that the package should probably be more than $1.2 trillion. The memo to Obama, however, detailed only two packages: a five-hundred-and-fifty-billion-dollar stimulus and an eight-hundred-and-ninety-billion-dollar stimulus. Summers … argued that the stimulus should not be used to fill the entire output gap; rather, it was “an insurance package against catastrophic failure.” … He believed that filling the output gap through deficit spending was important, but that a package that was too large could potentially shift fears from the current crisis to the long-term budget deficit, which would have an unwelcome effect on the bond market. In the end, Summers made the case for the eight-hundred-and-ninety-billion-dollar option.

That’s Ryan Lizza via Paul Krugman; in Krugman’s version, Romer is the hero. But what he doesn’t say is that the arguments being deployed against her here are ones she herself was making just a year or two earlier: Shortfalls in demand are less dangerous than policymakers think, but deficits are much more so; and thanks to nonlinearity you can’t wait until there’s some visible cost to deficit spending to curtail it.

Now, let’s be fair: We’d all be better off if Romer had won her debate with Orszag and Summers. (And if Summers had then been remanded to a job in chicken manure management.) Still, it’s important to remember how small is the gap between the wings of mainstream economics, despite the vitriol. 

In her Berkeley address, Romer says

The reason that I have talked in some detail about the economic beliefs that policymakers held in the 1950s is that I believe the policies they undertook and the economic outcomes derived largely from those beliefs.

I agree. In 2007, Christina Romer was using her podium to say that we don’t need to worry about major recessions, that the greatest mistake in economic policy in recent decades was faith in fiscal policy, and that the most important intellectual task for macroeconomists is to convince policymakers of the dangers of budget deficits. Now, those same arguments are being used to tell us we should accept 9-10% unemployment as far as the eye can see. If we didn’t want to end up here, we should have started somewhere else.

[1] Here is, literally, the entirety of her argument on the costs of higher deficits: “On the idea that persistent deficits don’t matter, I think there is widespread consensus that that is not true. There may be differences in our estimates of the size of the eventual effects, but most economists agree that deficits over decades unquestionably reduce national saving and have consequences for long-run standards of living.” No names, no cites, no data, no examples. Just, “most economists agree.”

Keynes Quote of the Day

From Britain’s Industrial Future:

The notion that the only way to get enough effort out of the brain-worker is to offer him unfettered opportunities of making an unlimited fortune is as baseless as the companion idea that the only way of getting enough effort out of the manual worker is to hold over him the perpetual threat of starvation and misery for himself and those he loves. It has never been even supposed to be true, at all events in England, of the soldier, the statesman, the civil servant, the teacher, the scientist, the technical expert.

And to think this was the Orange Book of 1928! Times have changed.

They sure have. Then, it seemed like the move away from institutions based on material incentives to institutions based on intrinsic motivation was well underway, or at least realizable. While today — perhaps in Britain even more than the US — the tide is running strong the other way, with the good and great eager to get teachers and technicians, if not yet soldiers and statesmen, onto the unlimited-fortune/starvation-and-misery plan.

The context of the quote is interesting, too — it’s part of a larger argument for the “more or less comprehensive socialization of investment” Keynes would continue to argue for in the General Theory. Since managers of private firms already work for “a certain salary, plus the hope of promotion or bonus,” nothing would change if their businesses were publicly owned: “The performance of functions by Public Concerns in place of privately owned Companies and Corporations would make but little difference to the ordinary man.” If soi-disant hard Keynesians read more Keynes, they would find a much more radical vision there than countercyclical fiscal policy.

(via Jim Crotty’s unpublished book on Keynes. Encouraging him to get that thing out is high up on my list of life goals. Britain’s Industrial Future was officially written by a committee of Liberal grandees headed by Lloyd George. But this passage was written by Keynes, Crotty says, and he would know.)

Leaping Lizards

At a party last night, I ran into a biologist who studies lizards. So we got to talking, as you do, about bipedalism. The habit of running on two legs has arisen in several different lineages of lizards, but why did it evolve? Speed, energetic efficiency, heat loss, vision, or that all-purpose explanation sexual selection? or maybe, like us and the birds, they’ve got something better to do with their front limbs?

None of the above, says the biologist. Sure, there are bipedal lizards. But very likely, bipedalism in lizards did not evolve.

Wait, how’s that?

Aerts et al., Bipedalism in Lizards:

The exact advantages of bipedal locomotion in lizards remain debated. Earlier claims that bipedalism would increase maximal running speed or would be energetically advantageous have been questioned. Here, we use ‘whole body’ mechanical modelling to provide an alternative solution to the riddle. The starting point is the intermittent running style combined with the need for a high manoeuvrability characterizing many small lizard species. Manoeuvrability benefits from a caudal [rearward] shift of the centre of mass of the body (body-COM), because forces to change the heading and to align the body to this new heading do not conflict with each other. The caudally situated body-COM, however, might result in a lift of the front part of the body when accelerating … [leading to] observable distances passively covered bipedally as a consequence of the acceleration. In this way, no functional explanation of the phenomenon of lizard bipedalism is required and bipedalism can probably be considered non-adaptive in many cases.

In other words, if you, being a lizard, need to change direction quickly when you’re running, it’s better to have your center of mass situated in the back, near your pelvis. That makes it easier to swing the front of your body around when you turn. But a side effect of having your center of gravity toward your back end is that your front end tends to rise when you accelerate sharply, as, being a lizard, you often do. (You, being a person now, have experienced this if you’ve ridden a bike up a steep hill. Conversely, brake suddenly, the back end of the bike goes up.) Air resistance adds to this effect, as does the fact that one of the ways the center of gravity is moved backwards is an overdevelopment of the rear legs relative to the front ones. The result is that lizards evolved for junk in the trunk end up sometimes running on their rear legs, even if that was not selected for at all.

(The linked article is based on experiments with a mechanical model of a lizard. According to dude at the party, the same conclusions are suggested by observations of lizard bipedalism in nature.)

I’m writing about this partly just because it’s cool (go science!) but also because it’s a nice illustration of an aspect of evolution that’s not widely understood, especially, perhaps, by some of its more aggressive proselytes. Darwinism is certainly correct, on some level: on the level that the appearance of design in an organism in no way implies the existence of a designer. But the statement that complex adaptive traits are the result of natural selection, while true, tells us much less than it seems to at first glance, because it’s seldom obvious what constitutes a “trait”; even more seldom what universe of alternatives it was selected from. In this case, we, proud bipeds, see a lizard running on its hind legs and think, that’s a trait; whereas, dancers and gymnasts perhaps aside, we’re not much conscious of where our center of mass is. But what we see as a trait isn’t necessarily what evolution sees; not everything in Borges’ encyclopedia is selected on. Perhaps the majority of what we see as traits are, as in this case, spandrels.

Needless to say, this is especially true when the organisms are human beings and the alleged trait is something psychological, especially something relating to sex and gender roles. A true evolutionary explanation should provide both concrete evidence (not just a just-so story) for the selective advantage of the supposed trait, and an account of the specific developmental pathways through which it arises; at least it should have one of the two. But in many of the “evolutionary” stories that people get most excited about, both are entirely lacking. Certainly when it comes to higher brain functions, with the exception of vision, the only statement genuinely grounded in evolutionary biology is, “We don’t know.”