At Barron’s: Who Is Winning the Inflation Debate?

(I write a monthly opinion piece for Barron’s. This one was published there in July. My previous pieces are here.)

Is inflation fundamentally a macroeconomic problem – a sign of an overheated economy, an excess of aggregate demand over supply? Or is it – at least sometimes – better understood in microeconomic terms, as the result of producers in various markets setting higher prices for their own reasons? 

Not long ago, almost all economists would have picked door No. 1. But in the postpandemic world the choice isn’t so clear.

The answer matters for policy. If the problem is too much spending, then the solution is to bring spending down — and it doesn’t matter which spending. This is what interest rate hikes are intended to do. And since wages are both the largest source of demand and the biggest single component of costs, bringing down spending entails higher unemployment and slower wage growth. Larry Summers – perhaps the most prominent spokesman for macroeconomic orthodoxy – predicted that it would take five years of above-5% unemployment to get inflation under control. He was widely criticized for it. But he was just giving the textbook view.

If inflation is driven by dynamics in particular markets, on the other hand, then an across-the-board reduction in demand isn’t necessary, and may not even be helpful. Better to address the specific factors driving price increases in those markets – ideally through relieving supply constraints, otherwise through targeted subsidies or administrative limits on price increases. The last option, though much maligned as “price controls,” can make sense in cases where supply or demand are particularly inelastic. If producers simply cannot increase output (think, automakers facing a critical chip shortage) then prices have little value as a signal, so there’s not much cost to controlling them.

The debate between these perspectives has been simmering for some time. But it’s reached a boil around Isabella Weber, a leading exponent of the microeconomic perspective. Her recent work explores the disproportionate importance of a few strategic sectors for inflation. Weber has probably done more than any other economist to bring price controls into the inflation-policy conversation.

A recent profile of Weber in the New Yorker describes how she has become a lightning rod for arguments about unconventional inflation policy, with some of her critics going well beyond the norms of scholarly debate.  

This backlash probably owes something to the fact that Weber is, biographically, a sort of anti-Summers. While he is a former Treasury secretary and Harvard president who comes from academic royalty (two of his uncles won economics Nobels), she is young, female, and teaches at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, a department best-known for harboring heterodox, even radical, thinkers. (Full disclosure: I got my own economics doctorate there, though well before Weber was hired.) Some prominent economists embarrassed themselves in their rather obvious professional jealousy, as the New Yorker recounts.

But even more than jealousy, what may explain the ferocity of the response is the not unjustified sense that the heterodox side is winning.

Yes, central banks around the world are hiking interest rates – the textbook response to rising prices. But the debate about inflation policy is much broader than it used to be, in both the U.S. and Europe.

Weber herself served on the committee in Germany that devised the country’s “price brake” for natural gas, which is intended to shield consumers and the broader economy from rising energy prices while preserving incentives to reduce consumption. In the wake of the New Yorker piece, there was a furious but inconclusive debate about whether a “brake” is the same as a “control.” But this misses the point. The key thing is that policy is targeted at prices in a particular market rather than at demand in general.

Such targeted anti-inflation measures have been adopted throughout Europe. In France, after President Emmanuel Macron pledged to do “whatever it takes” to bring down inflation, the country effectively froze the energy prices facing households and businesses through a mix of direct controls and subsidies. Admittedly, such an approach is easier in France because a very large share of the energy sector is publicly owned. In effect, the French measures shifted the burden of higher energy costs from households and businesses to the government. The critical point, though, is that measures like this don’t make sense as inflation control unless you see rising prices as coming specifically from a specific sector (energy in this case), as opposed to an economy-wide excess of demand over supply. 

Even economists at the International Monetary Fund – historically the world’s biggest cheerleader for high rates and austerity in response to inflation – acknowledge that these unconventional policies appear to have significantly reduced inflation in Europe. This is so even though they have boosted fiscal deficits and GDP, which by orthodox logic should have had the opposite effect.

The poster child for the “whatever it takes” approach to inflation is probably Spain, which over the past two years has adopted a whole raft of unconventional measures to limit price increases. Since June 2022, there has been a hard cap on prices in the  wholesale electricity market; this “Iberian exception” effectively decouples electricity prices in Spain from the international gas market. Spain has also adopted limits on energy price increases to retail customers, increased electricity subsidies for low-income households, reduced the value-added tax for energy, and instituted a windfall profits tax on energy producers. While the focus has been on energy prices (not surprisingly, given the central role of energy in European inflation) they have also sought to protect households from broader price increases with measures like rent control and reduced transit fares. Free rail tickets aren’t the first thing that comes to mind when you think of anti-inflation policy, but it makes sense if the goal is to shift demand away from scarce fossil fuels.

This everything-plus-the-kitchen-sink approach to inflation is a vivid illustration of why it’s so unhelpful to frame the debate in terms of conventional policy versus price controls. While some of the Spanish measures clearly fit that description, many others do not. A more accurate, if clunkier, term might be “targeted price policy,” covering all kinds of measures that seek to influence prices in particular markets rather than the economy-wide balance of supply and demand.

More important than what we call it is the fact that it seems to be working. Through most of the postpandemic recovery, inflation in Spain was running somewhat above the euro-area average. But since summer 2022 – when the most stringent energy-price measures went into effect – it has been significantly below it. Last month, Spain saw inflation fall below 2%, the first major European country to do so.

Here in the U.S., direct limits on price rises are less common. But it’s not hard to find examples of targeted price policy. The more active use of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, for example, is a step toward managing energy prices more directly, rather than via economy-wide spending. The Russian sanctions regime — though adopted, obviously, for other reasons — also has a significant element of price regulation. 

The Inflation Reduction Act is often lampooned as having nothing to do with its name, but that’s not quite right. Instead, it reflects a very different vision of inflation control than what you’d get from the textbooks. Rather than seeking to reduce aggregate demand through fiscal contraction, it envisions massive new public outlays to address problems on the supply side. It’s a sign of the times that a closely divided Congress could pass a vast expansion in federal spending as an anti-inflation measure. 

Meanwhile, there’s growing skepticism about how much rate hikes have actually achieved. Inflation has declined steeply without Summers’ prescribed three years of over-5% unemployment, or indeed any noticeable rise in unemployment at all. By connventional measures, demand is no weaker than it was a year ago. If it’s interest rates that brought down inflation, how exactly did they do so?

To be sure, hardly anyone in either camp correctly predicted the 2021 surge in inflation, or its equally dramatic decline over the past year. So it’s too soon to declare victory yet. But for the moment, it’s Team Weber and not Team Summers that seems to be gaining ground.

 

Revisiting the Euro Crisis

The euro crisis of the 2010s is well in the past now, but it remains one of the central macroeconomic events of our time.  But the nature of the crisis remains widely misunderstood, not only by the mainstream but also — and more importantly from my point of view — by economists in the heterodox Keynesian tradition. In this post, I want to lay out what I think is the right way of thinking about the crisis. I am not offering much in the way of supporting evidence. For the moment, I just want to state my views as clearly as possible. You can accept them or not, as you choose. 

During the first 15 years of the euro, a group of peripheral European countries experienced an economic boom followed by a crash, with GDP, employment and asset prices rising and then falling even more rapidly. As far as I can tell, there are four broad sets of explanations on offer for the crises in Greece, Ireland, Italy, Portugal and Spain starting in 2008. 

(While the timing is the same as the US housing bubble and crash, that doesn’t mean they are directly linked — however different they are in other respects, most of the common explanations for the European crisis I’m aware of locate its causes primarily within Europe.s)

The four common stories are:

1. External imbalances. The fixed exchange rate created by the euro, plus some mix of slow productivity growth in periphery and weak demand growth in core led to large trade imbalances within Europe. The financial expansion in the periphery was the flip side of a causally prior current account deficit.

2. Monetary policy. Both financial instability and external imbalances were result of Europe being far from an optimal currency area. Trying to carry out monetary policy for the whole euro area inevitably produced a mix of stagnation in the core and unsustainable credit expansion in the periphery, since a monetary stance that was too expansionary for Greece, Spain etc. was too tight for Germany.

3. Fiscal irresponsibility. The root of the crisis in peripheral countries was the excessive debt incurred by their own governments. The euro was a contributing factor since it led to an excessive convergence of interest rates across Europe, as markets incorrectly believed that peripheral debt was now as safe as debt of core countries.

4. Banking crises. The booms and busts in peripheral Europe were driven by rapid expansions and then contractions of credit from the domestic banking systems, with dynamics similar to that in credit booms in other times and places. The specific features of the euro system did not play any significant role in the development of the crisis, though they did importantly shape its resolution. 

In my view, the fourth story is correct, and the other three are wrong. In particular, trade imbalances within Europe played no role in the crisis. In this post, I am going to focus on why I think the external balances story is wrong, since that’s the one that people who are on my side intellectually seem most inclined toward.

As I see it, there were two distinct causal chains at work, both starting with a credit boom in the peripheral countries.

easy credit —> increased aggregate spending —> increased output and income —> increased imports —> growing trade deficit —> net financial inflows

easy credit —> rising asset prices —> bubble and/or fraud —> asset price crash —> insolvent banks —> financial crisis

That the two outcomes — external imbalances and banking crisis — went together is not a coincidence. But there is no causal link from the first to the second. Both rather are results of the same underlying cause. 

Yes, in the specific conditions of the late-2000s euro area, a credit boom led to an external deficit. But in principle it is perfectly possible to have a a credit-financed asset bubble and ensuing crisis in a country with a current account surplus, or one with current account balance, or in a closed economy. What was specific to the euro system was not the crisis itself, but the response to it. The reason the euro made the crisis worse because it prevented national governments from taking appropriate action to rescue their banking systems and stabilize demand. 

This understanding is, I think, natural if we take a “money view” of the crisis, thinking in terms of balance sheets and the relationship between income and expenditure. Here is the story I would like to tell.

Following the introduction of the euro in 1998, there were large credit expansions in a number of European countries. In Spain, for example, bank credit to the non-financial economy increased from 80 percent of GDP in 1997 to 220 percent of GDP in 2010. Banks were more willing to make loans, at lower rates, on more favorable terms, with less stringent collateral requirements and other lending standards. Borrowers were more willing to incur debt. The proximate causes of this credit boom may well have been connected to the euro in various ways. European integration offered a plausible story for why assets in Spain might be valued more highly. The ECB might have followed a less restrictive policy than independent central banks would have (or not — this is just speculation). But the euro was in no way essential to the credit boom. Similar booms have happened in many other times and places in the absence of currency unions — including, of course, in the US at roughly the same time.

In most of these countries, the bulk of the new credit went toward speculative real estate development. (In Greece there was also a big increase in public-sector borrowing, but not elsewhere.) The specifics of this lending don’t matter too much. 

Now for the key point. What happens when a a Spanish bank makes a loan? In the first step the bank creates two new assets – a deposit for the borrower, and the loan for itself. Notice that this does not require any prior “saving” by a third party. Expansion of bank credit in Spain does not require any inflow of “capital” from Germany or anywhere else.

Failure to grasp is an important source of confusion. Many people with a Keynesian background talk about endogenous money, but fail to apply it consistently. Most of us still have a commodity money or loanable-funds intuition lodged in the back of our brains, especially in international contexts. Terms like “capital flows” and “capital flight” are, in this respect, unhelpful relics of a gold standard world, and should probably be retired.

Back to the story. After the deposits are created, they are spent, i.e. transferred to someone else in return, in return for title to an asset or possession of a commodity or use of a factor of production. If the other party to this transaction is also Spanish, as would usually be the case, the deposits remain in the Spanish banking system. At the aggregate level, we see an increase in bank credit, plus an increase in asset prices and/or output, depending on what the loan finances, amplified by any ensuing wealth effect or multiplier.

To the extent that the loans finance production – of beach houses in Galicia say — they generate incomes. Some fraction of new income is spent on imported consumption goods. Probably more important, production requires imported intermediate and capital goods. By both these channels, an increase in Spanish output results in higher imports. If the credit boom leads Spain to grow faster relative to its trade partners — which it will, unless they are experiencing similar booms — then its trade balance will move toward deficit.

(That changes in trade flows are primarily a function of income growth, and not of relative prices, is an important item in the Keynesian catechism.)

Now let’s turn to the financial counterpart of this deficit. A purchase of a German good by a Spanish firm requires a bank deposit to be transferred from the Spanish firm to the German firm. Since the German firm presumably doesn’t hold deposits in a Spanish bank, we’ll see a reduction in deposits in the Spanish banking system and an equal increase in deposits in the German banking system. The Spanish banks must now replace those deposits with some other funding, which they will seek in the interbank market. So in the aggregate the trade deficit will generate an equal financial inflow — or, better said, a new external liability for the Spanish banking system. 

The critical thing to notice here is that these new financial positions are generated mechanically by the imports themselves. It is simply replacing the deposit funding the Spanish banks lost via payment for the imports. The financial inflow must take place for the purchase to happen — otherwise, literally, the importer’s check won’t clear. 

But what if there is an autonomous inflow – what if German wealth owners really want to hold more assets in Spain? Certainly that can happen. These kinds of cross-border flows may well have contributed to the credit boom in the periphery. But they have nothing to do with the trade balance. By definition, autonomous financial flows involve offsetting financial transactions, with no implications for the current account. 

Suppose you are a German pension fund that would like to lend money to a Spanish firm, to take advantage of the higher interest rates in Spain. Then you purchase, let’s say, a bond issued by Spanish construction company. That shows up as a new liability for Spain in the international investment position. But the Spanish firm now holds a deposit in a German bank, and that is an equal new asset for Spain. (If the Spanish firm transfers the deposit to a Spanish bank in return for a deposit there, as I suppose it probably would, then we get an asset for Spain in the interbank market instead.) The overall financial balance has not changed, so there is no reason for the current account to change either. Or as this recent BIS paper puts it, “the high correlations between gross capital inflows and outflows are overwhelmingly the result of double-entry bookkeeping”. (The importance of gross rather than net financial positions for crises is a pint the bIS has emphasized for many years.)

It may well happen that the effect of these offsetting financial transactions is to raise incomes in Spain (the contractor got better terms than it would at home) and/or banking-system liquidity (thanks to the fact that the Spanish banking system gets the deposits without the illiquid loan). This may well contribute to a rise in incomes in Spain and thus to a rise in the trade deficit. But this seems to me to be a second-order factor. And in any case we need to be clear about the direction of causality here — even if the financial inflows did indirectly cause the higher deficit, they did not in any sense finance it. The trade balances of Germany and Spain in no way affect the ability of German institutions to buy Spanish debt, any more than a New Yorker’s ability to buy a house in California depends on the trade balance between those states.

At this point it’s important to bring in the TARGET2 system. 

Under normal conditions, when someone wants to take a cross-border position within the euro systems the other side will be passively accommodated somewhere in the banking system. But if a net position develops for whatever reason, central banks can accommodate it via TARGET2 balances. Concretely, let’s say soon in Spain wants to make a payment to someone in Germany, as above. This normally involves the reduction of a Spanish bank’s liability to the Spanish entity and the increase in a German bank’s liability to the German entity. To balance this, the Spanish bank needs to issue some other liability (or give up an asset) while the German bank needs to acquire some asset. Normally, this happens by the Spanish bank issuing some new interbank liability (commercial paper or whatever) which ends up, perhaps via various intermediaries, as an asset for a German bank. But if foreign banks are unwilling to hold the liabilities of Spanish banks (as happened during the crisis) the Spanish bank can instead borrow from its own central bank, which in turn can create two offsetting positions through TARGET2 — a liability to the euro system, and a reserve asset (a deposit at the ECB). Conceptually, rather than the transfer of the despot being offset by a liability fro the Spanish to the German bank the interbank market, it’s now offset by a debt owed by the Spanish bank to its own national central bank, a debt between the central banks in the TARGET2 system, and a claim by the German bank against its own national central bank.

In this sense, within the euro system TARGET2 balances stand at the top of the hierarchy of money. Just as non financial actors settle their accounts by transfers of deposits at commercial banks, and banks settle their balances by transfers of deposits at the central bank, central banks settle any outstanding balances via TARGET2. It plays the same role as gold in the old gold standard system. Indeed, I sometimes think it would be better to describe the euro system as the “TARGET2 system.” 

There is however a critical difference between these balances and gold. Gold is an asset for central bank; TARGET2 balances are a liability. When a payment is made from country X to country Y in the euro area, with no offsetting private payment, the effect on central bank balance sheets is NOT a decrease in the assets of the central bank of X (and increase in the assets of the central bank of Y) but an increase in the liabilities of the central bank of X. This distinction is critical because assets are finite and can be exhausted, but new liabilities can be issued indefinitely. The automatic financing of payments imbalances through the TARGET2 system seems like an obscure technical detail but it transforms the functioning of the system. Every national central bank in the euro area is in effect in the situation of the Fed. It can never be financially constrained because all its obligations can be satisfied with its own liabilities. 

People are sometimes uncomfortable with this aspect of the euro system and suggest that there must be some limit on TARGET2 balances. But to me, this fundamentally misunderstands the nature of a single currency. What makes “the euro” a single currency is not that it has the same name, or that the bills look the same in the various countries, or even that it trades at a fixed ratio of one for one. What makes it a single currency is that a bank deposit in any euro-area country will settle a debt in any other euro-area country, at par. TARGET2 balances have to be unlimited to guarantee the this will be the case — in other words, for there to be a single currency at all.

(In this sense, we should not have been so fixed on the question of being “in” versus “out” of the euro. The relevant question is the terms on which payments can be made from one bank account another, for settlement of which obligations.)

The view of the euro crisis in which trade imbalances finance or somehow enable credit expansion is dependent on a loanable-funds perspective in which incomes are fixed, money is exogenous and saving is a binding constraint. It’s implicitly based on a model of the gold standard in which increased lending impossible without inflow of reserves — something that was not really true in practice even in the high gold standard era and isn’t true even in principle today. What’s strange is that many people who accept this view would reject those premises – if they realized they were applying them.

Meanwhile, on the domestic side, abundant credit was bidding up asset prices and encouraging investment that was, ex post, unwise (and in some case fraudulent, though I have no idea how important this was quantitatively). When asset prices collapsed and the failure of investment projects to generate the expected returns became clear, many banks faced insolvency. There was a collapse in activity in the real-estate development and construction activity that had driven the boom and, as banks tightened credit standards across the board, in other credit-dependent activity; falling asset values further reduced private spending; all these effects were amplified by the usual multiplier. The result was a steep fall in output and employment.

I don’t believe there’s any sense in which a sudden stop of cross-border lending precipitated the crisis. Rather, the “nationalization” of finance came after. Banks tried to limit their cross-border positions came only once the crisis was underway, as it became clear that there would be no systematic euro-wide response to insolvent banks, so that any rescues or bailouts would be by national governments for their own banks.

Credit-fueled asset booms and crashes have happened in many times and places. There was nothing specific to the euro system about the property booms of the 2000s. What was specific to the euro system was what happened next. Thanks to the euro, the affected governments could not respond as developed country governments have always responded to financial crises since World War II — by recapitalizing insolvent banks and shifting public budgets toward deficit until private demand recovers. 

The constraints on euro area governments were not an inevitable feature of system, in this view. Rather, they were deliberately imposed through discretionary choices by the authorities in order to use the crisis to advance a substantive political agenda.