Last weekend I went up to Amherst, for an event — half conference, half memorial — in honor of Jim Crotty.
Jim was a very important presence for me when I was at a graduate student at the University of Massachusetts, as he was for many people who passed through the economics program there in the 1980s, 1990s and 2000s. His approach to economics, drawing on the traditions of Marx and Keynes, was for us almost the definition of heterodox macroeconomics. He was also a model for us as a human being. He never wavered from his political commitments, and he was — as many speakers at the event testified — a wonderful person, down to earth, warm and outgoing.
Some years ago, Arjun Jayadev and I recorded a long interview with Jim. INET has put video of the interview online. (The videos are somewhat abridged; you can read the full transcript here. ) I think the interview managed to capture Jim’s broader outlook as well as his economics interests. (Well, some of them — his interests were very broad!) He also has some very interesting things to say about the origins of radical economics as a distinct body of thought in the 1970s. I think the videos are well worth watching, if you want to get a sense (or a reminder) of what Jim Crotty was all about.
I wrote a piece on his work in 2016, to go along with the interviews. That piece focuses on his argument for taking Keynes seriously as a socialist, the argument which later became his last published work, Keynes against Capitalism. (There is an earlier draft that circulated within the UMass economics department, which I think makes the argument more clearly than the published book does.)
For this event, Arjun and I wrote an article on Jim, talking more about what his teaching meant for us and how one might carry his vision forward. It will be published in an upcoming special issue of the Review of Radical Political Economics, along with a number of other pieces on Jim’ thought and work. Here are some excerpts from our contribution. You can read the whole thing here, if you’re interested.
“If Keynes were Alive Today…”: Reflections on Jim Crotty
by Arjun Jayadev and J. W. Mason
Jim Crotty’s ECO 710 was for us, as for hundreds of UMass grad students over the past 40 years, the starting point for systematic thought about the economy as a whole. In this he was, like all the great teachers, presenting not so much any particular technique or ideas as himself as a model – a touchstone to go back to when you hit a dead end, and a living example of how to be a serious economist-in-the-world. The content of the class varied over the years, but it usually involved a close reading of The General Theory, with a focus on its three great advances— fundamental uncertainty, liquidity preference and effective demand.
Perhaps the most distinctive aspect of Jim’s pedagogy and scholarship, almost alone among economists we have known, was his ability to synthesise these two thinkers in ways that gave equal weight to both, that placed them in conversation rather than in tension. Crotty’s Marx anticipates Minsky, while his Keynes is a political radical – a socialist – in ways that few others have recognized.
Perhaps his most profound contribution to both traditions was the brilliant 1985 article “The Centrality of Money, Credit, and Financial Intermediation in Marx’s Crisis Theory” (Crotty 1985). There, he developed the idea that the Marxian vision of capitalist crises could only be understood in terms of the development of the credit and the financial system – that it was only via financial commitments that a fall in the profit rate could lead to an abrupt crisis rather than just a slower pace of accumulation. His reconstruction of a vision of the credit system that may either dampen or amplify disruptions to the underlying process of production suggests that Marx anticipated the ideas about financial fragility later developed in the Post Keynesian tradition. With a critical difference: While Minsky has finance calling the tune, in the Marx-Crotty version the ultimate source of instability is in the real world of labor and capital.
For us, Jim’s most important work came in four areas. The first was the interplay of real and financial instability in capitalist crises, as in the 1985 article and his work after 2008. Second was the shifting relationship between shareholders and managers in the governance of corporations. Third was his insistence on the importance of fundamental uncertainty for macroeconomic theory – if we imagine one phrase in Jim’s voice, it is “we simply do not know.” Last, chronologically, but certainly not least, was his rehabilitation of Keynes’ socialist politics – a socialist Keynes to go with his Minskyan Marx.
Most of Crotty’s published work fits within the broad post-Keynesian tradition. But his earlier and stronger commitment was to Marx. In a series of papers in the 1970s with Raford Boddy he put class conflict and imperialism front and centre in the analysis of contemporary capitalism, exploring Marxian crisis theory and what it could illuminate about contemporary macroeconomic problems. From the mid-1980s onward, his published work no longer used an explicitly Marxist framework, and the name Keynes appears much more often than that of Marx. But this was a matter of shifting focus and circumstances rather than any more fundamental re-evaluation. In a conversation with us in 2016, he described Marx as: “clearly the more brilliant social scientist and thinker and philosopher” of the two, “with a much more ambitious project, with clearer and deeper political roots.” And yet, he added: “I am writing a book about Keynes.”
(I write a monthly opinion piece for Barron’s. This one was published there in September. My previous pieces are here.)
You wouldn’t necessarily guess it from the headlines, but we may soon be talking about inflation in the past tense. After peaking at close to 10% in the summer of 2022, inflation has fallen even faster than it rose. Over the past three months inflation, as measured by the CPI, has been slightly below the Federal Reserve’s 2% target. Nearly every other measure tells a similar story.
Predicting the future is always risky. But right now, it seems like the conversation about how to fix the inflation problem is nearing its end. Soon, we’ll be having a new debate: Who, or what, should get credit for solving it?
The Fed is the most obvious candidate. Plenty of commentators are already giving it at least tentative credit for delivering that elusive soft landing. And why not? Inflation goes up. The central bank raises interest rates. Inflation goes back down. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?
The problem is, monetary policy does not work through magic. The Fed doesn’t simply tell private businesses how much to charge. Higher interest rates lead to lower prices only by reducing demand. And so far, that doesn’t seem to have happened – certainly not on a scale that could explain how much inflation has come down.
In the textbook story, interest rates affect prices via labor costs. The idea is that businesses normally set prices as a markup over production costs, which consist primarily of wages. When the Fed raises rates, it discourages investment spending — home construction and business spending on plant and equipment — which is normally financed with credit. Less investment means less demand for labor, which means higher unemployment and more labor market slack generally. As unemployment rises, workers, with less bargaining power vis-a-vis employers, must accept lower wages. And those lower wages get passed on to prices.
Of course this is not the only possible story. Another point of view is that tighter credit affects prices through the demand side. In this story, rather than businesses producing as much as they can sell at given costs, there is a maximum amount they can produce, often described as potential output. When demand rises above this ceiling, that’s when prices rise.
Either way, the key point — which should be obvious, but somehow gets lost in macro debates — is that prices are determined by real conditions in individual markets. The only way for higher rates to slow down rising prices, is if they curtail someone’s spending, and thereby production and employment. No business — whether it’s selling semiconductors or hamburgers — says “interest rates are going up, so I guess I’ll charge less.” If interest rates change their pricing decisions, it has to be through some combination of fall in demand for their product, or in the wages they pay.
Over the past 18 months, the Fed has overseen one of the fast increases in short-term interest rates on record. We might expect that to lead to much weaker demand and labor markets, which would explain the fall in inflation. But has it?
The Fed’s rate increases have likely had some effect. In a world where the Federal Funds rate was still at zero, employment and output might well be somewhat higher than they are in reality. Believers in monetary-policy orthodoxy can certainly find signs of a gently slowing economy to credit the Fed with. The moderately weaker employment and wage growth of recent months is, from this point of view, evidence that the Fed is succeeding.
One problem with pointing to weaker labor markets as a success story, is that workers’ bargaining power matters for more than wages and prices. As I’ve noted before, when workers have relatively more freedom to pick and choose between jobs, that affects everything from employment discrimination to productivity growth. The same tight labor markets that have delivered rapid wage growth, have also, for example, encouraged employers to offer flexible hours and other accommodations to working parents — which has in turn contributed to women’s rapid post-pandemic return to the workplace.
A more basic problem is that, whether or not you think a weaker labor market would be a good thing on balance, the labor market has not, in fact, gotten much weaker.
At 3.8%, the unemployment rate is essentially unchanged from where it was when at the peak of the inflation in June 2022. It’s well below where it was when inflation started to rise in late 2020. It’s true that quits and job vacancy rates, which many people look to as alternative measures of labor-market conditions, have come down a bit over the past year. But they still are extremely high by historical standards. The prime-age employment-population ratio, another popular measure of labor-market conditions, has continued to rise over the past year, and is now at its highest level in more than 20 years.
Overall, if the labor market looks a bit softer compared with a year ago, it remains extremely tight by any other comparison. Certainly there is nothing in these indicators to explain why prices were rising at an annual rate of over 10% in mid-2022, compared with just 2% today.
On the demand side, the case is, if anything, even weaker. As Employ America notes in its excellent overview, real gross domestic product growth has accelerated during the same period that inflation has come down. The Bureau of Economic Analysis’s measure of the output gap similarly shows that spending has risen relative to potential output over the past year. For the demand story to work, it should have fallen. It’s hard to see how rate hikes could be responsible for lower inflation during a period in which people’s spending has actually picked up.
It is true that higher rates do seem to have discouraged new housing construction. But even here, the pace of new housing starts today remains higher than at any time between 2007 and the pandemic.
Business investment, meanwhile, is surging. Growth in nonresidential investment has accelerated steadily over the past year and a half, even as inflation has fallen. The U.S. is currently seeing a historic factory boom — spending on new manufacturing construction has nearly doubled over the past year, with electric vehicles, solar panels and semiconductors leading the way. That this is happening while interest rates are rising sharply should raise doubts, again, about how important rates really are for business investment. In any case, no story about interest rates that depends on their effects on investment spending can explain the recent fall in inflation.
A more disaggregated look at inflation confirms this impression. If we look at price increases over the past three months compared with the period of high inflation in 2021-2022, we see that inflation has slowed across most of the economy, but much more so in some areas than others.
Of the seven-point fall in inflation, nearly half is accounted for by energy, which makes up less than a tenth of the consumption basket. Most of the rest of the fall is from manufactured goods. Non-energy services, meanwhile, saw only a very modest slowing of prices; while they account for about 60% of the consumption basket, they contributed only about a tenth of the fall in inflation. Housing costs are notoriously tricky; but as measured by the shelter component of the Bureau of Labor Statistics, they are rising as fast now as when inflation was at its peak.
Most services are not traded, and are relatively labor-intensive; those should be the prices most sensitive to conditions in U.S. product and labor markets. Manufactured goods and especially energy, on the other hand, trade in very internationalized markets and have been subject to well-publicized supply disruptions. These are exactly the prices we might expect to fall for reasons having nothing to do with the Fed. The distribution of price changes, in other words, suggests that slowing inflation has little to do with macroeconomic conditions within the US, whether due to Fed action or otherwise.
If the Fed didn’t bring down inflation, what did? The biggest factor may be the fall in energy prices. It’s presumably not a coincidence that global oil prices peaked simultaneously with U.S. inflation. Durable-goods prices have also fallen, probably reflecting the gradual healing of pandemic-disrupted supply chains. A harder question is whether the supply-side measures of the past few years played a role. The IRA and CHIPS Act have certainly contributed to the boom in manufacturing investment, which will raise productive capacity in the future. It’s less clear, at least to me, how much policy contributed to the recovery in supply that has brought inflation down.
But that’s a topic for another time. For now it’s enough to say: Don’t thank the Fed.
(Note: Barron’s, like most publications I’ve worked with, prefers to use graphics produced by their own team. For this post, I’ve swapped out theirs for my original versions.)
(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 waswidelycriticized 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 Yorkerdescribes 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 adopteda 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.
I have a new paper on how we conceptualize the supply side of the economy, coauthored with Arjun Jayadev. I presented a version of this at the Political Economy research Institute in December 2022. You can watch video of my presentation here — I come on, after some technical difficulties, around 47:00. (The other presentations from the conference are also very worth watching.) The paper will be published in the upcoming issue of the Review of Keynesian Economics. (The linked version is our draft; when the published version comes out I’ll post that.)
Our fundamental argument is that while macroeconomic supply constraints are normally conceptualized in terms of a level (or level-path) of potential output, in many contexts it would be better to think in terms of a constraint on the rate of change — a speed limit rather than a ceiling.
While this is a general argument, it’s motivate by the experiences of the pandemic and the post-financial crisis recovery of the preceding decade. We think the speed-limit conception of supply constraints makes sense of a number of macroeconomic developments that are hard to make sense of in the conventional view.
First, deviations in output are persistent. We saw this clearly in the wake of the Great Recession, but it seems to be a more general phenomenon. There’s a long-standing empirical finding that there’s no general tendency of output to return to its previous trend. One way we could explain this is the real business cycle way — short-term as well as long-term variation in output growth are driven by changes in the economy’s productive capacity. But of course, there is lots of evidence that business cycles are driven by demand. Alternatively, we could argue that potential grows steadily but actual output may remain far below it indefinitely. I was making arguments like this a few years ago. The problem is that direct evidence on the output gap (unemployment, growth in wages and prices, businesses’ reported capacity utilization rates, etc.) suggest that the output gap did close over the course of the 2010s. So we’re left with the idea that potential output adjusts to actual output — hysteresis. But if we take this idea seriously, it rules out the conventional idea of a level of potential output. In a world where hysteresis is important, a zero output gap is consistent with lots of different level-paths of output; supply constraints only bind the speed of the transitions between them.
Second, there’s no well-defined level of full employment. (Here we have to ding Keynes a bit.) Employment grows steadily over business cycles — there’s no sign of convergence to some long-term trend. Estimates of the NAIRU or natural unemployment rate follow actual unemployment more or less one for one. And if we try to make a bottom-up estimate of full employment — what fraction of the population could plausibly be engaged in paid work — we end up with a value much higher than actual employment even at cyclical peaks.
Third, we observe inflation and other signs of supply constraints in response to changes in the composition of output and employment, and not just in the level. This has been very clear during the pandemic, but there’s good reason to think it’s true in general.
Fourth, increasing returns are pervasive in real economies. This is a bit of a different argument than the first three, since it’s not pointing to a directly observable macro phenomenon. But it’s important here, because it means that we can’t assume that businesses are already using the lowest-cost technique and increasing output will cause unit costs to rise. One way of thinking about this is to imagine a cost landscape that is rugged, not smooth. Moving from one locally low-cost position to another may require traversing a higher cost region, which will appear as supply constraints during the transition. A clear example of this is the transition from carbon to renewable energy sources.
We also argue that this perspective is more consistent with a sociologically realistic view of what “the economy” is. Real economies are not homogeneous “factors” being added to a “production function” which then spits out some quantity of output. They are complex systems of cooperation between human beings, which are embedded in all kinds of other social relationships and the reproduction of households and other social organisms. These relationships cannot be torn up and recreated at any moment — changing them is costly. They evolve only gradually over time. From this point of view, it is wrong to divide the facts about the economic world into a set of long-run, fundamental, exogenous factors and short-run endogenous factors. Who is actually working, and at what, is as much a part of the economic data, no less easily shifted, than the number of people who are potentially available for work.
This way of thinking about the supply side has several implications for policy. First, rising prices and other signs of supply constraints cannot be taken as evidence for the long-run limits on the economy’s productive potential. In general, we should be skeptical of suggestions that recent rises in the prices of energy, food and other essential commodities reflect the “end of abundance”.
On the positive side, our view suggests that the response to positive output gaps should include not only conventional “supply side” measures, but measures to overcome the coordination and information problems and other frictions that limit rapid changes in productive activity. This implies planning of some sort, though not necessarily central planning in the traditional sense. Another implication is that because prices can adjust more quickly than productive activity can (the emphasis on price stickiness is backward in our view), rapid shifts in activity can generate large price spikes that are not informative about long-run production possibilities and produce undesirable shifts in income. This suggests that price regulation has an important role in smoothing the transition fro one pattern of activity to another.
Specific examples and evidence on all these points are in the paper. You should read it! A final point I want to emphasize here is that we are not saying that supply constraints are limits on adjustment speed in an absolute, universal sense. We are saying that insofar as we need a simple, first-cut description of the supply side, we will usually do better to imagine a constraint on adjustment speed rather than on the level of output and employment.
On December 2-3, 2022, the Political Economy Research Institute at the University of Massachusetts-Amherst (where I did my economics PhD) will be hosting a conference on “Global Inflation Today: What Is To Be Done?”1
I will be speaking on “Rethinking Supply Constraints,” a new project I am working on with Arjun Jayadev. Our argument is that we should think of supply constraints as limits on the speed at which production can be reorganized and labor and other resources can be reallocated via markets, as opposed to limits on the level of production determined by “real” resources. The idea is that this makes better sense of recent macroeconomic developments; fits better with a broader conception of the economy in terms of human productive activity rather than the exchange of pre-existing goods; and points toward more promising responses to the current inflation.
I was hoping to have a draft of the paper done for the conference, but that is not to be. But I do have a set of slides, which give at least a partial sketch of the argument. Feedback is most welcome!
Last week, my Roosevelt colleague Mike Konczal said on twitter that he endorsed the Fed’s decision to raise the federal funds rate, and the larger goal of using higher interest rates to weaken demand and slow growth. Mike is a very sharp guy, and I generally agree with him on almost everything. But in this case I disagree.
The disagreement may partly be about the current state of the economy. I personally don’t think the inflation we’re seeing reflects any general “overheating.” I don’t think there’s any meaningful sense in which current employment and wage growth are too fast, and should be slower. But at the end of the day, I don’t think Mike’s and my views are very different on this. The real issue is not the current state of the economy, but how much confidence we have in the Fed to manage it.
So: Should the Fed be raising rates to control inflation? The fact that inflation is currently high is not, in itself, evidence that conventional monetary policy is the right tool for bringing it down. The question we should be asking, in my opinion, is not, “how many basis points should the Fed raise rates this year?” It is, how conventional monetary policy affects inflation at all, at what cost, and whether it is the right tool for the job. And if not, what should we be doing instead?
What Do Rate Hikes Do?
AtPowell’s press conference, Chris Rugaber of the AP asked an excellent question: What is the mechanism by which a higher federal funds rate is supposed to bring down inflation, if not by raising unemployment?1 Powell’s answer was admirably frank: “There is a very, very tight labor market, tight to an unhealthy level. Our tools work as you describe … if you were moving down the number of job openings, you would have less upward pressure on wages, less of a labor shortage.”
Powell is clear about what he is trying to do. If you make it hard for businesses to borrow, some will invest less, leading to less demand for labor, weakening workers’ bargaining power and forcing them to accept lower wages (which presumably get passed on to prices, tho he didn’t spell that step out.) If you endorse today’s rate hikes, and the further tightening it implies, you are endorsing the reasoning behind it: labor markets are too tight, wages are rising too quickly, workers have too many options, and we need to shift bargaining power back toward the bosses.
Rather than asking exactly how fast the Fed should be trying to raise unemployment and slow wage growth, we should be asking whether this is the only way to control inflation; whether it will in fact control inflation; and whether the Fed can even bring about these outcomes in the first place.
Both hiring and pricing decisions are made by private businesses (or, in a small number of cases, in decentralized auction markets.) The Fed can’t tell them what to do. What it can do – what it is doing – is raise the overnight lending rate between banks, and sell off some part of the mortgage-backed securities and long-dated Treasury bonds that it currently holds.
A higher federal funds rate will eventually get passed on to other interest rates, and also (and perhaps more importantly) to credit conditions in general — loan standards and so on. Some parts of the financial system are more responsive to the federal funds rate than others. Some businesses and activities are more dependent on credit than others.
Higher rates and higher lending standards will, eventually, discourage borrowing. More quickly and reliably, they will raise debt service costs for households, businesses and governments, reducing disposable income. This is probably the most direct effect of rate hikes. It still depends on the degree to which market rates are linked to the policy rate set by the Fed, which in practice they may not be. But if we are looking for predictable results of a rate hike, higher debt service costs are one of the best candidates. Monetary tightening may or may not have a big effect on unemployment, inflation or home prices, but it’s certainly going to raise mortgage payments — indeed, the rise in mortgage rates we’ve seen in recent months presumably is to some degree in anticipation of rate hikes.
Higher debt service costs disposable income for households and retained earnings for business, reducing consumption and investment spending respectively. If they rise far enough, they will also lead to an increase in defaults on debt.
(As an aside, it’s worth noting that a significant and rising part of recent inflation is owners’ equivalent rent, which is a BLS estimate of how much homeowners could hypothetically get if they rented out their homes. It is not a price paid by anyone. Meanwhile, mortgage payments, which are the main actual housing cost for homeowners, are not included in the CPI. It’s a bit ironic that in response to a rise in a component of “housing costs” that is not actually a cost to anyone, the Fed is taking steps to raise what actually is the biggest component of housing costs.)
Finally, a rate hike may cause financial assets to fall in value — not slowly, not predictably, but eventually. This is the intended effect of the asset sales.
Asset prices are very far from a simple matter of supply and demand — there’s no reason to think that a small sale of, say 10-year bonds will have any discernible effect on the corresponding yield (unless the Fed announces a target for the yield, in which case the sale itself would be unnecessary.) But again, eventually, sufficient rate hikes and asset sales will presumably lead asset prices to fall. When they do fall, it will probably by a lot at once rather than a little at a time – when assets are held primarily for capital gains, their price can continue rising or fall sharply, but it cannot remain constant. If you own something because you think it will rise in value, then if it stays at the current price, the current price is too high.
Lower asset values in turn will discourage new borrowing (by weakening bank balance sheets, and raising bond yields) and reduce the net worth of households (and also of nonprofits and pension funds and the like), reducing their spending. High stock prices are often a major factor in periods of rising consumption,like the 1990s; a stock market crash could be expected to have the opposite impact.
What can we say about all these channels? First, they will over time lead to less spending in the economy, lower incomes, and less employment. This is how hikes have an effect on inflation, if they do. There is no causal pathway from rate hikes to lower inflation that doesn’t pass through reduced incomes and spending along the way. And whether or not you accept the textbook view that the path from demand to prices runs via unemployment wage growth, it is still the case that reduced output implies less demand for labor, meaning slower growth in employment and wages.
That is the first big point. There is no immaculate disinflation.
Second, rate hikes will have a disproportionate effect on certain parts of the economy. The decline in output, incomes and employment will initially come in the most interest-sensitive parts of the economy — construction especially. Rising rates will reduce wealth and income for indebted households. 2. Over time, this will cause further falls in income and employment in the sectors where these households reduce spending, as well as in whatever categories of spending that are most sensitive to changes in wealth. In some cases, like autos, these may be the same areas where supply constraints have been a problem. But there’s no reason to think this will be the case in general.
It’s important to stress that this is not a new problem. One of the things hindering a rational discussion of inflation policy, it seems to me, is the false dichotomy that either we were facing transitory, pandemic-related inflation, or else the textbook model of monetary policy is correct. But as the BIS’s Claudio Borio and coauthors notein a recent article, even before the pandemic, “measured inflation [was] largely the result of idiosyncratic (relative) price changes… not what the theoretical definition of inflation is intended to capture, i.e. a generalised increase in prices.” The effects of monetary policy, meanwhile, “operate through a remarkably narrow set of prices, concentrated mainly in the more cyclically sensitive service sectors.”
These are broadly similar results to a2019 paper by Stock and Watson, which finds that only a minority of prices show a consistent correlation with measures of cyclical activity.3 It’s true that in recent months, inflation has not been driven by auto prices specifically. But it doesn’t follow that we’re now seeing all prices rising together. In particular, non-housing services (which make up about 30 percent of the CPI basket) are still contributing almost nothing to the excess inflation. Yet, if you believe the BIS results (which seem plausible), it’s these services where the effects of tightening will be felt most.
This shows the contribution to annualized inflation above the 2% target, over rolling three-month periods. My analysis of CPI data.
The third point is that all of this takes time. It is true that some asset prices and market interest rates may move as soon as the Fed funds rate changes — or even in advance of the actual change, as with mortgage rates this year. But the translation from this to real activity is much slower. The Fed’s ownFRB/US model says that the peak effect of a rate change comes about two years later; there are significant effects out to the fourth year. What the Fed is doing now is, in an important sense, setting policy for the year 2024 or 2025. How confident should we be about what demand conditions will look like then? Given how few people predicted current inflation, I would say: not very confident.
This connects to the fourth point, which is that there is no reason to think that the Fed can deliver a smooth, incremental deceleration of demand. (Assuming we agreed that that’s what’s called for.) In part this is because of the lags just mentioned. The effects of tightening are felt years in the future, but the Fed only gets data in real time. The Fed may feel they’ve done enough once they see unemployment start to rise. But by that point, they’ll have baked several more years of rising unemployment into the economy. It’s quite possible that by the time the full effects of the current round of tightening are felt, the US economy will be entering a recession.
This is reinforced when we think about the channels policy actually works through. Empirical studies of investment spending tend to find that it is actually quite insensitive to interest rates. The effect of hikes, when it comes, is likelier to be through Minskyan channels — at some point, rising debt service costs and falling asset values lead to a cascading chain of defaults.
In and Out of the Corridor
A broader reason we should doubt that the Fed can deliver a glide path to slower growth is that the economy is a complex system, with both positive and negative feedbacks; which feedbacks dominate depends on the scale of the disturbance. In practice, small disturbances are often self-correcting; to have any effect, a shock has to be big enough to overcome this homeostasis.
Axel Leijonhufvudlong ago described this as a “corridor of stability”: economic units have buffers in the form of liquid assets and unused borrowing capacity, which allow them to avoid adjusting expenditure in response to small changes in income or costs. This means the Keynesian multiplier is small or zero for small changes in autonomous demand. But once buffers start to get exhausted, responses become much larger, as the income-expenditure positive feedback loop kicks in.
The most obvious sign of this is the saw-tooth pattern in long-run series of employment and output. We don’t see smooth variation in growth rates around a trend. Rather, we see two distinct regimes: extended periods of steady output and employment growth, interrupted by shorter periods of negative growth. Real economies experience well-defined expansions and recessions, not generic “fluctuations”.
This pattern is discussed in a very interesting recent paper by Antonio Fatas,“The Elusive State of Full Employment.” The central observation of the paper is that whether you measure labor market slack by the conventional unemployment rate or in some other way (the detrended prime-age employment-population ratio is his preferred measure), the postwar US does not show any sign of convergence back to a state of full employment. Rather, unemployment falls and employment rises at a more or less constant rate over an expansion, until it abruptly gives way to a recession. There are no extended periods in which (un)employment rates remain stable.
One implication of this is that the economy spends very little time at potential or full employment; indeed, as he says, the historical pattern should raise questions whether a level of full employment is meaningful at all.
the results of this paper also cast doubt on the empirical relevance of the concepts of full employment or the natural rate of unemployment. … If this interpretation is correct, our estimates of the natural rate of unemployment are influenced by the length of expansions. As an example, if the global pandemic had happened in 2017 when unemployment was around 4.5%, it is very likely that we would be thinking of unemployment rates as low as 3.5% as unachievable.
There are many ways of arriving at this same point. For example, he finds that the (un)employment rate at the end of an expansion is strongly predicted by the rate at the beginning, suggesting that what we are seeing is not convergence back to an equilibrium but simply a process of rising employment that continues until something ends it.
Another way of looking at this pattern is that any negative shock large enough to significantly slow growth will send it into reverse — that, in effect, growth has a “stall speed” below which it turns into recession. If this weren’t the case, we would sometimes see plateaus or gentle hills in the employment rate. But all we see are sharp peaks.
In short: Monetary policy is an anti-inflation tool that works, when it does, by lowering employment and wages; by reducing spending in a few interest-sensitive sectors of the economy, which may have little overlap with those where prices are rising; whose main effects take longer to be felt than we can reasonably predict demand conditions; and that is more likely to provoke a sharp downturn than a gradual deceleration.
Is Macroeconomic Policy the Responsibility of the Fed?
One reason I don’t think we should be endorsing this move is that we shouldn’t be endorsing the premise that the US is facing dangerously overheated labor markets. But the bigger reason is that conventional monetary policy is a bad way of managing the economy, and entails a bad way of thinking about the economy. We should not buy into a framework in which problems of rising prices or slow growth or high unemployment get reduced to “what should the federal funds rate do?”
What’s missing here is any policy action by anyone other than the Fed. It’s this narrowing of the discussion I object to, more than the rate increase as such.
Rents are rising rapidly right now — at an annual rate of about 6 percent as measured by the CPI. And there is reason to think that this number understates the increase in market rents and will go up rather than down over the coming year. This is one factor in the acceleration of inflation compared with 2020, when rents in most of the country were flat or falling. (Rents fell almost 10 percent in NYC during 2020, perZillow.) The shift from falling to rising rents is an important fact about the current situation. But rents were also rising well above 2 percent annually prior to the pandemic. The reason that rents (and housing prices generally) rise faster than most other prices generally, is that we don’t build enough housing. We don’t build enough housing for poor people because it’s not profitable to do so; we don’t build enough housing for anyone in major cities because land-use rules prevent it.
Rising rents are not an inflation problem, they are a housing problem. The only way to deal with them is some mix of public money for lower-income housing, land-use reform, and rent regulations to protect tenants in the meantime. Higher interest rates will not help at all — except insofar as, eventually, they make people too poor to afford homes.
Or energy costs. Energy today still mostly means fossil fuels, especially at the margin. Both supply and demand are inelastic, so prices are subject to large swings. It’s a global market, so there’s not much chance of insulating the US even if it is “energy independent” in net terms. The geopolitics of fossil fuels means that production is both vulnerable to interruption from unpredictable political developments, and subject to control by cartels.
The long run solution is, of course, to transition as quickly as possible away from fossil fuels. In the short run, we can’t do much to reduce the cost of gasoline (or home heating oil and so on), but we can shelter people from the impact, by reducing the costs of alternatives, like transit, or simply by sending them checks. (The California state legislature’s plan seems like a good model.) Free bus service will help both with the short-term effect on household budgets and to reduce energy demand in the long run. Raising interest rates won’t help at all — except insofar as, eventually, they make people too poor to buy gas.
These are hard problems. Land use decisions are made across tens of thousands of local governments, and changes are ferociously opposed by politically potent local homeowners (and some progressives). Dependence on oil is deeply baked into our economy. And of course any substantial increase in federal spending must overcome both entrenched opposition and the convoluted, anti-democratic structures of our government, as we have all been learning (again) this past year.
These daunting problems disappear when we fold everything into a price index and hand it over to the Fed to manage. Reducing everything to the core CPI and a policy rule are a way of evading all sorts of difficult political and intellectual challenges. We can also then ignore the question how, exactly, inflation will be brought down without costs to the real economy, and how to decide if these costs are worth it. Over here is inflation; over there are the maestros with their magic anti-inflation device. All they have to do is put the right number into the machine.
It’s an appealing fantasy – it’s easy to see why people are drawn to it. But it is a fantasy.
A modern central bank, sitting at the apex of the financial system, has a great deal of influence over markets for financial assets and credit. This in turn allows it to exert some influence — powerful if often slow and indirect — on production and consumption decisions of businesses and households. Changes in the level and direction of spending will in turn affect the pricing decisions of business. These effects are real. But they are no different than the effects of anything else — public policy or economic developments — that influence spending decisions. And the level of spending is in turn only one factor in the evolution of prices. There is no special link from monetary policy to aggregate demand or inflation. It’s just one factor among others — sometimes important, often not.
Yes, a higher interest rate will, eventually reduce spending, wages and prices. But many other forces are pushing in other directions, and dampening or amplifying the effect of interest rate changes. The idea that there is out there some “r*”, some “neutral rate” that somehow corresponds to the true inter temporal interest rate — that is a fairy tale.
Nor does the Fed have any special responsibility for inflation. Once we recognize monetary policy for what it is — one among many regulatory and tax actions that influence economic rewards and incomes, perhaps influencing behavior — arguments for central bank independence evaporate. (Then again, theydid not make much sense to begin with.) And contrary to widely held belief, the Fed’s governing statutes do not give it legal responsibility for inflation or unemployment.
That last statement might sound strange, given that we are used to talking about the Fed’s dual mandate. But as Lev Menand points out in an important recent intervention, the legal mandate of the Fed has been widely misunderstood. What the Federal Reserve Act charges the Fed with is
maintain[ing the] long run growth of the monetary and credit aggregates commensurate with the economy’s long-run potential to increase production, so as to promote effectively the goals of maximum employment, stable prices, and moderate long-term interest rates.
There are two things to notice here. First, the bolded phrase: The Fed’s mandate is not to maintain price stability or full employment as such. It is to prevent developments in the financial system that interfere with them. This is not the same thing. And as Menand argues (in the blog post and at more lengthelsewhere), limiting the Fed’s macroeconomic role to this narrower mission was the explicit intent of the lawmakers who wrote the Fed’s governing statutes from the 1930s onward.
Second, price stability, maximum employment and moderate interest rates (an often forgotten part of the Fed’s mandate) are not presented as independent objectives, but as the expected consequences of keeping credit growth on a steady path. As Menand writes:
The Fed’s job, as policymakers then recognized, was not to combat inflation—it was to ensure that banks create enough money and credit to keep the nation’s productive resources fully utilized…
This distinction is important because there are many reasons that, in the short-to-medium term, the economy might not achieve full potential—as manifested by maximum employment, price stability, and moderate long-term interest rates. And often these reasons have nothing to do with monetary expansion, the only variable Congress expected the Fed to control. For example, supply shortages of key goods and services can cause prices to rise for months or even years while producers adapt to satisfy changing market demand. The Fed’s job is not to stop these price rises—even if policymakers might think stopping them is desirable—just as the Fed’s job is not to … lend lots of money to companies so that they can hire more workers. The Fed’s job is to ensure that a lack of money and credit created by the banking system—an inelastic money supply—does not prevent the economy from achieving these goals. That is its sole mandate.
As Menand notes, the idea that the Fed was directly responsible for macroeconomic outcomes was a new development in the 1980s, an aspect of the broader neoliberal turn that had no basis in law. Nor does it have any good basis in economics. If a financial crisis leads to a credit crunch, or credit-fueled speculation develops into an asset bubble, the central bank can and should take steps to stabilize credit growth and asset prices. In doing so, it will contribute to the stability of the real economy. But when inflation or unemployment come from other sources, conventional monetary policy is a clumsy, ineffectual and often destructive way of responding to them.
There’s a reason that the rightward turn in the 1980s saw the elevation of central banks as the sole custodians of macroeconomic stability. The economies we live in are not in fact self-regulating; they are subject to catastrophic breakdowns of various forms, and even when they function well, are in constant friction with their social surroundings. They require active management. But routine management of the economy — even if limited to the adjustment of the demand “thermostat,” in Samuelson’s old metaphor — both undermine the claim that markets are natural, spontaneous and decentralized, and opens the door to a broader politicization of the economy. The independent central bank in effect quarantines the necessary economic management from the infection of democratic politics.
The period between the 1980s and the global financial crisis saw both a dramatic elevation of the central bank’s role in macroeconomic policy, and a systematic forgetting of the wide range of tools central banks used historically. There is a basic conflict between the expansive conception of the central bank’s responsibilities and the narrow definition of what it actually does. The textbooks tell us that monetary policy is the sole, or at least primary, tool for managing output, employment and inflation (and in much of the world, the exchange rate); and that it is limited to setting a single overnight interest rate according to a predetermined rule. These two ideas can coexist comfortably only in periods of tranquility when the central bank doesn’t actually have to do anything.
What has the Fed Delivered in the Past?
Coming back to the present: The reason I think it is wrong to endorse the Fed’s move toward tightening is not that there’s any great social benefit to having an overnight rate on interbank loans of near 0. I don’t especially care whether the federal funds rate is at 0.38 percent or 1.17 percent next September. I don’t think it makes much difference either way. What I care about is endorsing a framework that commits us to managing inflation by forcing down wages, one that closes off discussion of more progressive and humane — and effective! — ways of controlling inflation. Once the discussion of macroeconomic policy is reduced to what path the federal funds rate should follow, our side has already lost, whatever the answer turns out to be.
It is true that there are important differences between the current situation the end of 2015, the last time the Fed started hiking, that make today’s tightening more defensible. Headline unemployment is now at 3.8 percent, compared with 5 percent when the Fed began hiking in 2015. The prime-age employment rate was also about a point lower then than now. But note also that in 2015 the Fedthought the long-run unemployment rate was 4.9 percent. So from their point of view, we were at full employment. (The CBO, which had the long-run rate at 5.3 percent, thought we’d already passed it.) It may be obvious in retrospect (and to some of us in the moment) that in late 2015 there was still plenty of space for continued employment growth. But policymakers did not think so at the time.
More to the point, inflation then was much lower. If inflation control is the Fed’s job, then the case for raising rates is indeed much stronger now than it was in December 2015. And while I am challenging the idea that this should be the Fed’s job, most people believe that it is. I’m not upset or disappointed that Powell is moving to hike rates now, or is justifying it in the way that he is. Anyone who could plausibly be in that position would be doing the same.
So let’s say a turn toward higher rates was less justified in 2015 than it is today. Did it matter? If you look at employment growth over the 2010s, it’s a perfectly straight line — an annual rate of 1.2 percent, month after month after month. If you just looked at the employment numbers, you’d have no idea that the the Fed was tightening over 2016-2018, and then loosening in the second half of 2019. This doesn’t, strictly speaking, prove that the tightening had no effect. But that’s certainly the view favored by Occam’s razor. The Fed, fortunately, did not tighten enough to tip the economy into recession. So it might as well not have tightened at all.
The problem in 2015, or 2013, or 2011, the reason we had such a long and costly jobless recovery, was not that someone at the Fed put the wrong parameter into their model. It was not that the Fed made the wrong choices. It was that the Fed did not have the tools for the job.
Honestly, it’s hard for me to see how anyone who’s been in these debates over the past decade could believe that the Fed has the ability to steer demand in any reliable way. The policy rate was at zero for six full years. The Fed was trying their best! Certainly the Fed’s response to the 2008 crisis was much better than the fiscal authorities’. So for that matter was the ECB’s, once Draghi took over from Trichet. 4 The problem was not that the central bankers weren’t trying. The problem was that having the foot all the way down on the monetary gas pedal turned out not to do much.
As far as I can tell, modern US history offers exactly one unambiguous case of successful inflation control via monetary policy: the Volcker shock. And there, it was part of a comprehensive attack on labor.
It is true that recessions since then have consistently seen a fall in inflation, and have consistently been preceded by monetary tightenings. So you could argue that the Fed has had some inflation-control successes since the 1980s, albeit at the cost of recessions. Let’s be clear about what this entails. To say that the Fed was responsible for the fall in inflation over 2000-2002, is to say that the dot-com boom could have continued indefinitely if the Fed had not raised rates.
Maybe it could have, maybe not. But whether or not you want to credit (or blame) the Fed for some or all of the three pre-pandemic recessions, what is clear is that there are few if any cases of the Fed delivering slower growth and lower inflation without a recession.
According to Alan Blinder, since World War II the Fed has achieved a soft landing in exactly two out of 11 tightening cycles, most recently in 1994. In that case, it’s true, higher rates were not followed by a recession. But nor were they followed by any discernible slowdown in growth. Output and employment grew even faster after the Fed started tightening than before. As for inflation, it did come down about two years later, at the end of 1996 – at exactly the same moment as oil prices peaked. And came back up in 1999, at exactly the moment when oil prices started rising again. Did the Fed do that? It looks to me more like 2015 – a tightening that stopped in time to avoid triggering a recession, and instead had no effect. But even if we accept the 1994 case, that’s one success story in the past 50 years. (Blinder’s other soft landing is 1966.)
I think the heart of my disagreement with progressives who are support tightening is whether it’s reasonable to think the Fed can adjust the “angle of approach” to a higher level of employment. I don’t think history gives us much reason to believe that they can. There are people who think that a recession, or at least a much weaker labor market, is the necessary cost of restoring price stability. That’s not a view I share, obviously, but it is intellectually coherent. The view that the Fed can engineer a gentle cooling that will bring down inflation while employment keeps rising, on the other hand, seems like wishful thinking.
That said, of the two realistic outcomes of tightening – no effect, or else a crisis – I think the first is more likely, unless they move quite a bit faster than they are right now.
So what’s at stake then? If the Fed is doing what anyone in their position would do, and if it’s not likely to have much impact one way or another, why not make some approving noises, bank the respectability points, and move on?
Four Good Reasons to Be Against Rate Hikes (and One that Isn’t)
I think that it’s a mistake to endorse or support monetary tightening. I’ll end this long post by summarizing my reasons. But first, let me stress that a commitment to keeping the federal funds rate at 0 is not one of those reasons. If the Fed were to set the overnight rate at some moderate positive level and then leave it there, I’d have no objection. In the mid-19th century, the Bank of France kept its discount rate at exactly 4 percent for something like 25 years. Admittedly 4 percent sounds a little high for the US today. But a fixed 2 percent for the next 25 years would probably be fine.
There are four reasons I think endorsing the Fed’s decision to hike is a mistake.
First, most obviously, there is the risk of recession. If rates were at 2 percent today, I would not be calling for them to be cut. But raising them is a different story. Last week’s hike is no big deal in itself, but there will be another, and another, and another. I don’t know where the tipping point is, where hikes inflict enough financial distress to tip the economy into recession. But neither does the Fed. The faster they go, the sooner they’ll hit it. And given the long lags in monetary transmission, they probably won’t know until it’s too late. People are talking a lot lately about wage-price spirals, but that is far from the only positive feedback in a capitalist economy. Once a downturn gets started, with widespread business failures, defaults and disappointed investment plans, it’s much harder to reverse it than it would have been to maintain growth.
I think many people see trusting the Fed to deal with inflation as the safe, cautious position. But the fact that a view is widely held doesn’t mean it is reasonable. It seems to me that counting on the Fed to pull off something that they’ve seldom if ever succeeded at before is not safe or cautious at all.5 Those of us who’ve been critical of rate hikes in the past should not be too quick to jump on the bandwagon now. There are plenty of voices calling on the Fed to move faster. It’s important that there also be some saying, slow down.
2. Second, related to this, is a question I think anyone inclined to applaud hikes should be asking themselves: If high inflation means we need slower growth, higher unemployment and lower wages, where does that stop? Inflation may come down on its own over the next year — I still think this is more likely than not. But if it doesn’t come down on its own, the current round of rate hikes certainly isn’t going to do it. Looking again at the Fed’s FRB/US model, we see that a one point increase in the federal funds rate is predicted to reduce inflation by about one-tenth of a point after one year, and about 0.15 points after two years. The OECD’s benchmark macro model make similar predictions: a sustained one-point increase in the interest rate in a given year leads to an 0.1 point fall in inflation the following year, an 0.3 fall in the third year and and an 0.5 point fall in the fourth year.
Depending which index you prefer, inflation is now between 3 and 6 points above target.6 If you think conventional monetary policy is what’s going to fix that, then either you must have have some reason to think its effects are much bigger than the Fed’s own models predict, or you must be imagining much bigger hikes than what we’re currently seeing. If you’re a progressive signing on to today’s hikes, you need to ask yourself if you will be on board with much bigger hikes if inflation stays high. “I hope it doesn’t come to that” is not an answer.
3. Third, embracing rate hikes validates the narrative that inflation is now a matter of generalized overheating, and that the solution has to be some form of across-the-board reduction in spending, income and wages. It reinforces the idea that pandemic-era macro policy has been a story of errors, rather than, on balance, a resounding success.
The orthodox view is that low unemployment, rising wages, and stronger bargaining power for workers are in themselves serious problems that need to be fixed. Look at how the news earlier this week of record-low unemployment claims got covered: It’s a dangerous sign of “wage inflation” that will “raise red flags at the Fed.” Or the constant complaints by employers of “labor shortages” (echoed by Powell last week.) Saying that we want more employment and wage growth, just not right now, feels like trying to split the baby. There is not a path to a higher labor share that won’t upset business owners.
The orthodox view is that a big reason inflation was so intractable in the 1970s was that workers were also getting large raises. From this point of view, if wages are keeping pace with inflation, that makes the problem worse, and implies we need even more tightening. Conversely, if wages are falling behind, that’s good. Alternatively, you might think that the Powell was right before when he said the Phillips curve was flat, and that inflation today has little connection with unemployment and wages. In that case faster wage growth, so that living standards don’t fall, is part of the solution not the problem. Would higher wages right now be good, or bad? This is not a question on which you can be agnostic, or split the difference. I think anyone with broadly pro-worker politics needs to think very carefully before they accept the narrative of a wage-price spiral as the one thing to be avoided at all costs.
Similarly, if rate hikes are justified, then so must be other measures to reduce aggregate spending. The good folks over at the Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget just put out a piece arguing that student loan forbearance and expanded state Medicare and Medicaid funding ought to be ended, since they are inflationary. And you have to admit there’s some logic to that. If we agree that the economy is suffering from excessive demand, shouldn’t we support fiscal as well as monetary measures to reduce it? A big thing that rate hikes will do is raise interest payments by debtors, including student loan debtors. If that’s something we think ought to happen, we should think so when it’s brought about in other ways too. Conversely, if you don’t want to sign on to the CFRB program, you probably want to keep some distance from Powell.
4. Fourth and finally, reinforcing the idea that inflation control is the job of the Fed undermines the case for measures that actually would help with inflation. Paradoxical as it may sound, one reason it’s a mistake to endorse rate hikes is precisely because rising prices really are a problem. High costs of housing and childcare are a major burden for working families. They’re also a major obstacle to broader social goals (more people living in dense cities; a more equal division of labor within the family). Rate hikes move us away from the solution to these problems, not towards it. Most urgently and obviously, they are entirely unhelpful in the energy transition. Tell me if you think this is sensible: “Oil prices are rising, so we should discourage people from developing alternative energy sources”. But that is how conventional monetary policy works.
The Biden administration has been strikingly consistent in articulating an alternative vision of inflation control – what some people call a progressive supply-side vision. In the State of the Union, for example, we heard:
We have a choice. One way to fight inflation is to drive down wages and make Americans poorer. I think I have a better idea … Make more cars and semiconductors in America. More infrastructure and innovation in America. …
First, cut the cost of prescription drugs. We pay more for the same drug produced by the same company in America than any other country in the world. Just look at insulin. … Insulin costs about $10 a vial to make. … But drug companies charge … up to 30 times that amount. …. Let’s cap the cost of insulin at $35 a month so everyone can afford it.7
Second, cut energy costs for families an average of $500 a year by combating climate change. Let’s provide investment tax credits to weatherize your home and your business to be energy efficient …; double America’s clean energy production in solar, wind and so much more; lower the price of electric vehicles,…
Of course weatherizing homes is not, by itself, going to have a big effect on inflation. But that’s the direction we should be looking in. If we’re serious about managing destructive price increases, we can’t leave the job to the Fed. We need to be looking for a mix of policies that directly limit price increases using administrative tools, that cushion the impact of high prices on family budgets in the short run, and that deal with the supply constraints driving price increases in the long run.
The interest rate hike approach is an obstacle to all this, both practically and ideologically. A big reason I’m disappointed to see progressives accepting the idea that inflation equals rate hikes, is that there has been so much creative thinking about macroeconomic policy in recent years. What’s made this possible is increasing recognition that the neoliberal, central bank-centered model has failed. We have to decide now if we really believed that. Forward or backward? You can’t have it both ways.
(This post originally ran as an opinion piece in Barron’s.)
The U.S. today is experiencing inflation. This is not controversial. But what exactly does it mean?
In the textbook, inflation is a rise in all prices together, caused by an excessive increase in the money supply. But when we measure it, inflation is just a rise in the average price of goods and services. That average might reflect a uniform rise in prices due to excessive money creation. Or, as today, it might instead be the result of big rises in the prices of a few items, for their own reasons.
Over the past year, prices have risen by 7.5%, far above the usual 2% target set by the Federal Reserve. But 70% of that 5.5 points of excess inflation has come from two categories that make up just 15% of the consumption basket: energy (2 points) and new and used cars (1.9 points). Used cars alone make up barely 4% of the consumption basket, but accounted for a third of the excess inflation.
Some commentators have argued that inflation is just a matter of too much money. If that were true, it’s hard to see why so much of it would be flowing to cars. (And before you say cheap financing: Rates on auto loans were lower through most of the 2010s.)
In recent months, vehicle and energy prices have begun to stabilize, while food and housing prices have picked up. These price increases hit family budgets harder. A car purchase can usually be put off, but not rent or groceries. But this is still a story about specific sectors following their own dynamics.
Energy prices are global, and their periodic rise and fall depends mostly on the politics of oil-producing regions (as we are being reminded today). As recently as the summer of 2014, gas prices were higher than they are now, before falling precipitously. No doubt they will fall again, but in the short run there is not much to do about them—though it may be possible to shield people from their impact. In the longer run, decarbonization will leave us less vulnerable to the gyrations of the oil market.
As for vehicles, it’s no mystery why prices soared. Early in the pandemic, automakers expected a long period of depressed demand, and cut back production plans. When the economy bounced back rapidly, automakers found themselves short of key inputs, especially semiconductors. Combine this with a pandemic-induced shift in demand from services to goods, and you have a formula for rapid price increases. The effect was strongest for used cars, whose supply is essentially fixed in the short run.
Housing has made a smaller contribution so far—0.6 of the 5.5 points of excess inflation—but given the way the Bureau of Labor Statistics measures them, housing prices are likely to rise sharply over the coming year. This is a problem. But, it was also a big problem before the pandemic, when rents were rising by nearly 4% annually. Housing affordability is a serious issue in the U.S. But if the question is why inflation is higher today than in 2018 or 2019, housing is not the answer.
Finally, there are food prices, which have contributed about 0.7 points to excess inflation over the past year, and more in recent months. Food prices, like energy prices, are famously volatile; there’s a reason they are both excluded from the Fed’s measure of “core” inflation. They’re also an area where market power may be playing a major role, given the high concentration in food processing. Monopolies may be reluctant to fully exploit their power in normal times; price increases elsewhere in the economy give them a chance to widen their margins.
The great majority of the excess inflation over the past year has come from these four areas. Other sectors—including labor-intensive services where prices have historically risen more quickly—have contributed little or nothing.
The point is not that these price increases don’t matter. Food, housing and energy are necessities of life. People are naturally unhappy when they have to pay more for them. The point is that current price rises are not symptoms of economy-wide overheating.
Some of these prices, like autos, will come back down on their own as supply-chain kinks work themselves out. Others, like housing, will not, and call for a policy response. But that response is not raising interest rates, which would only make the problem worse. The main reason why housing costs are rising is that the U.S. does not build enough of it, especially in the expensive metro areas where employment opportunities are concentrated. Construction is one of the most interest-sensitive sectors of the economy. Rate hikes will cause supply to fall further short of demand.
Some might say that the Fed still controls the overall level of spending in the economy. If people spent less on used cars, wouldn’t they spend more on something else? This ignores the existence of balance sheets. Households hold cash, and finance many purchases—including cars—with debt. Lower used-car prices wouldn’t mean higher prices elsewhere, but higher household savings and less debt.
An inability to build housing where people want to live, dependence on fossil fuels, fragile supply chains and the monopolization of key industries: These are all serious economic problems. But they are not monetary-policy problems. Looking at them through the lens of a textbook story of inflation will not get us any closer to solving them.
Like many people, I’ve been thinking a bit about inflation lately. One source of confusion, it seems to me, is that underlying concept has shifted in a rather fundamental way, but the full implications of this shift haven’t been taken on board.
I was talking with my Roosevelt colleague Lauren Melodia about inflation and alternative policies to manage it, which is a topic I hope Roosevelt will be engaging in more in the later part of this year. In the course of our conversation, it occurred to me that there’s a basic source of confusion about inflation.
Many of our ideas about inflation originated in the context of a fixed quantity money. The original meaning of the term “inflation” was an increase in the stock of money, not a general increase in the price level. Over there you’ve got a quantity of stuff; over here you’ve got a quantity of money. When the stock of money grows rapidly and outpaces the growth of stuff, that’s inflation.
In recent decades, even mainstream economists have largely abandoned the idea of the money stock as a meaningful economic quantity, and especially the idea that there is a straightforward relationship between money and inflation.
Here is what a typical mainstream macroeconomics textbook — Olivier Blanchard’s, in this case; but most are similar — says about inflation today. (You can just read the lines in italics.)
There are three stories about inflation here: one based on expected inflation, one based on markup pricing, and one based on unemployment. We can think of these as corresponding to three kinds of inflation in the real world — inertial, supply-drive, and demand-driven. What there is not, is any mention of money. Money comes into the story only in the way that it did for Keynes: as an influence on the interest rate.
To be fair, the book does eventually bring up the idea of a direct link between the money supply and inflation, but only to explain why it is obsolete and irrelevant for the modern world:
Until the 1980s, the strategy was to choose a target rate of money growth and to allow for deviations from that target rate as a function of activity. The rationale was simple. A low target rate of money growth implied a low average rate of inflation. …
That strategy did not work well.
First, the relation between money growth and inflation turned out to be far from tight, even in the medium run. … Second, the relation between the money supply and the interest rate in the short run also turned out also to be unreliable. …
Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, frequent and large shifts in money demand created serious problems for central banks. … Starting in the early 1990s, a dramatic rethinking of monetary policy took place based on targeting inflation rather than money growth, and the use of an interest rate rule.
Obviously, I don’t endorse everything in the textbook.1 (The idea of a tight link between unemployment and inflation is not looking much better than the idea of a tight link between inflation and the money supply.) I bring it up here just to establish that the absence of a link between money growth and inflation is not radical or heterodox, but literally the textbook view.
One way of thinking about the first Blanchard passage above is that the three stories about inflation correspond to three stories about price setting. Prices may be set based on expectations of where prices will be, or prices may be set based on market power (the markup), or prices may be set based on costs of production.
This seems to me to be the beginning of wisdom with respect to inflation: Inflation is just an increase in prices, so for every theory of price setting there’s a corresponding theory of inflation. There is wide variation in how prices get set across periods, countries and markets, so there must be a corresponding variety of inflations.
Besides the three mentioned by Blanchard, there’s one other story that inflation is perhaps even more widespread. We could call this too much spending chasing too little production.
The too-much-spending view of inflation corresponds to a ceiling on output, rather than a floor on unemployment, as the inflationary barrier. As the NAIRU has given way to potential output as the operational form of supply constraints on macroeconomic policy, this understanding of inflation has arguably become the dominant one, even if without formalization in textbooks. It overlaps with the unemployment story in making current demand conditions a key driver of inflation, even if the transmission mechanism is different.
Superfically “too much spending relative to production” sounds a lot like “too money relative to goods.” (As to a lesser extent does “too much wage growth relative to productivity growth.”) But while these formulations sound similar, they have quite different implications. Intuitions formed by the old quantity-of-money view don’t work for the new stories.
The older understanding of inflation, which runs more or less unchanged from David Hume through Irving Fisher to Milton Friedman and contemporary monetarists, goes like this. There’s a stock of goods, which people can exchange for their mutual benefit. For whatever reasons, goods don’t exchange directly for other goods, but only for money. Money in turn is only used for purchasing goods. When someone receives money in exchange for a good, they turn around and spend it on some good themselves — not instantly, but after some delay determined by the practical requirements of exchange. (Imagine you’ve collected your earnings from your market stall today, and can take them to spend at a different market tomorrow.) The total amount of money, meanwhile, is fixed exogenously — the quantity of gold in circulation, or equivalently the amount of fiat tokens created by the government via its central bank.
Under these assumptions, we can write the familiar equation
MV = PY
If Y, the level of output, is determined by resources, technology and other “real” factors, and V is a function of the technical process of exchange — how long must pass between the receipt of money and it spending — then we’re left with a direct relationship between the change in M and the change in P. “Inflation is always and everywhere a monetary phenomenon.”2
I think something like this underlies most folk wisdom about inflation. And as is often the case, the folk wisdom has outlived whatever basis in reality it may once have had.3
Below, I want to sketch out some ways in which the implications of the excessive-spending-relative-to-production vision of inflation are importantly different from those of the excessive-money-relative-to-goods vision. But first, a couple of caveats.
First, the idea of a given or exogenous quantity of money isn’t wrong a priori, as a matter of logic; it’s an approximation that happens not to fit the economy in which we live. Exactly what range of historical settings it does fit is a tricky question, which I would love to see someone try to answer. But I think it’s safe to say that many important historical inflations, both under metallic and fiat regimes, fit comfortably enough in a monetarist framework.
Second, the fact that the monetarist understanding of inflation is wrong (at least for contemporary advanced economies) doesn’t mean that the modern mainstream view is right. There is no reason to think there is one general theory of inflation, any more than there is one general etiology of a fever. Lots of conditions can produce the same symptom. In general, inflation is a persistent, widespread rise in prices, so for any theory of price-setting there’s a corresponding theory of inflation. And the expectations-based propagation mechanism of inertial inflation — where prices are raised in the expectation that prices will rise — is compatible with many different initial inflationary impulses.
That said — here are some important cleavages between the two visions.
1. Money vs spending. More money is just more money, but more spending is always more spending on something in particular. This is probably the most fundamental difference. When we think of inflation in terms of money chasing a given quantity of goods, there is no connection between a change in the quantity of money and a change in individual spending decisions. But when we think of it in terms of spending, that’s no longer true — a decision to spend more is a decision to spend more on some specific thing. People try to carry over intuitions from the former case to the latter, but it doesn’t work. In the modern version, you can’t tell a story about inflation rising that doesn’t say who is trying to buy more of what; and you can’t tell a story about controlling inflation without saying whose spending will be reduced. Spending, unlike money, is not a simple scalar.
The same goes for the wages-markup story of the textbook. In the model, there is a single wage and a single production process. But in reality, a fall in unemployment or any other process that “raises the wage” is raising the wages of somebody in particular.
2. Money vs prices. There is one stock of money, but there are many prices, and many price indices. Which means there are many ways to measure inflation. As I mentioned above, inflation was originally conceived of as definitionally an increase in the quantity of money. Closely related to this is the idea of a decrease in the purchasing power of money, a definition which is still sometimes used. But a decrease in the value of money is not the same as an increase in the prices of goods and services, since money is used for things other than purchasing goods and services.(Merijn Knibbe is very good on this.4) Even more problematically, there are many different goods and services, whose prices don’t move in unison.
This wasn’t such a big deal for the old concept of inflation, since one could say that all else equal, a one percent increase in the stock of money would imply an additional point of inflation, without worrying too much about which specific prices that showed up in. But in the new concept, there’s no stock of money, only the price changes themselves. So picking the right index is very important. The problem is, there are many possible price indexes, and they don’t all move in unison. It’s no secret that inflation as measured by the CPI averages about half a point higher than that measured by the PCE. But why stop there? Those are just two of the infinitely many possible baskets of goods one could construct price indexes for. Every individual household, every business, every unit of government has their own price index and corresponding inflation rate. If you’ve bought a used car recently, your personal inflation rate is substantially higher than that of people who haven’t. We can average these individual rates together in various ways, but that doesn’t change the fact that there is no true inflation rate out there, only the many different price changes of different commodities.
3. Inflation and relative prices. In the old conception, money is like water in a pool. Regardless of where you pour it in, you get the same rise in the overall level of the pool.
Inflation conceived of in terms of spending doesn’t have that property. First, for the reason above — more spending is always more spending on something. If, let’s say for sake of argument, over-generous stimulus payments are to blame for rising inflation, then the inflation must show up in the particular goods and services that those payments are being used to purchase — which will not be a cross-section of output in general. Second, in the new concept, we are comparing desired spending not to a fixed stock of commodities, but to the productive capacity of the economy. So it matters how elastic output is — how easily production of different goods can be increased in response to stronger demand. Prices of goods in inelastic supply — rental housing, let’s say — will rise more in response to stronger demand, while prices of goods supplied elastically — online services, say — will rise less. It follows that inflation, as a concrete phenomenon, will involve not an across-the-board increase in prices, but a characteristic shift in relative prices.
This is a different point than the familiar one that motivates the use of “core” inflation — that some prices (traditionally, food and energy) are more volatile or noisy, and thus less informative about sustained trends. It’s thatwhen spending increases, some goods systematically rise in price faster than others.
This recent paper by Stock and Watson, for example, suggests that housing, consumer durables and food have historically seen prices vary strongly with the degree of macroeconomic slack, while prices for gasoline, health care, financial services, clothing and motor vehicles do not, or even move the opposite way. They suggest that the lack of a cyclical component in health care and finance reflect the distinct ways that prices are set (or imputed) in those sectors, while the lack of a cyclical component in gas, clothing and autos reflects the fact that these are heavily traded goods whose prices are set internationally. This interpretation seems plausible enough, but if you believe these numbers they have a broader implication: We should not think of cyclical inflation as an across the board increase in prices, but rather as an increase in the price of a fairly small set of market-priced, inelastically supplied goods relative to others.
4. Inflation and wages. As I discussed earlier in the post, the main story about inflation in today’s textbooks is the Phillips curve relationship where low unemployment leads to accelerating inflation. Here it’s particularly clear that today’s orthodoxy has abandoned the quantity-of-money view without giving up the policy conclusions that followed from it.
In the old monetarist view, there was no particular reason that lower unemployment or faster wage growth should be associated with higher inflation. Wages were just one relative price among others. A scarcity of labor would lead to higher real wages, while an exogenous increase in wages would lead to lower employment. But absent a change in the money supply, neither should have any effect on the overall price level.
It’s worth noting here that altho Milton Friedman’s “natural rate of unemployment” is often conflated with the modern NAIRU, the causal logic is completely different. In Friedman’s story, high inflation caused low unemployment, not the reverse. In the modern story, causality runs from lower unemployment to faster wage growth to higher inflation. In the modern story, prices are set as a markup over marginal costs. If the markup is constant, and all wages are part of marginal cost, and all marginal costs are wages, then a change in wages will just be passed through one to one to inflation.
We can ignore the stable markup assumption for now — not because it is necessarily reasonable, but because it’s not obvious in which direction it’s wrong. But if we relax the other assumptions, and allow for non-wage costs of production and fixed wage costs, that unambiguously implies that wage changes are passed through less than one for one to prices. If production inputs include anything other than current labor, then low unemployment should lead to a mix of faster inflation and faster real wage growth. And why on earth should we expect anything else? Why shouldn’t the 101 logic of “reduced supply of X leads to a higher relative price of X” be uniquely inapplicable to labor?5
There’s an obvious political-ideological reason why textbooks should teach that low unemployment can’t actually make workers better off. But I think it gets a critical boost in plausibility — a papering-over of the extreme assumptions it rests on — from intuitions held over from the old monetarist view. If inflation really was just about faster money growth, then the claim that it leaves real incomes unchanged could work as a reasonable first approximation. Whereas in the markup-pricing story it really doesn’t.
5. Inflation and the central bank.In the quantity-of-money vision, it’s obvious why inflation is the special responsibility of the central bank. In the textbooks, managing the supply of money is often given as the first defining feature of a central bank. Clearly, if inflation is a function of the quantity of money, then primary responsibility for controlling it needs to be in the hands of whoever is in charge of the money supply, whether directly, or indirectly via bank lending.
But here again, it seems, to me, the policy conclusion is being asked to bear weight even after the logical scaffolding supporting it has been removed.
Even if we concede for the sake of argument that the central bank has a special relationship with the quantity of money, it’s still just one of many influences on the level of spending. Indeed, when we think about all the spending decisions made across the economy, “at one interest rate will I borrow the funds for it” is going to be a central consideration in only a few of them. Whether our vision of inflation is too much spending relative to the productive capacity of the economy, or wages increasing faster than productivity, many factors are going to play a role beyond interest rates or central bank actions more broadly.
One might believe that compared with other macro variables, the policy interest rate has a uniquely strong and reliable link to the level of spending and/or wage growth; but almost no one, I think, does believe this. The distinct responsibility of the central bank for inflation gets justified not on economic grounds but political-institutional ones: the central bank can act more quickly than the legislature, it is free of undue political influence, and so on. These claims may or may not be true, but they have nothing in particular to do with inflation. One could justify authority over almost any area of macroeconomic policy on similar grounds.
Conversely, once we fully take on board the idea that the central bank’s control over inflation runs through to the volume of credit creation to the level of spending (and then perhaps via unemployment to wage growth), there is no basis for the distinction between monetary policy proper and other central bank actions. All kinds of regulation and lender-of-last-resort operations equally change the volume and direction of credit creation, and so influenced aggregate spending just as monetary policy in the narrow sense does.
6. The costs of inflation. If inflation is a specifically monetary phenomenon, the costs of inflation presumably involve the use of money. The convenience of quoting relative prices in money becomes a problem when the value of money is changing.
An obvious example is the fixed denominations of currency — monetarists used to talk with about “shoe leather costs” — the costs of needing to go more frequently to the bank (as one then did) to restock on cash. A more consequential example is public incomes or payments fixed in money terms. As recently as the 1990s, one could find FOMC members talking about bracket creep and eroded Social Security payments as possible costs of higher inflation — albeit with some embarrassment, since the schedules of both were already indexed by then. More broadly, in an economy organized around money payments, changes in what a given flow of money can buy will create problems. Here’s one way to think about these problems:
Social coordination requires a mix of certainty and flexibility. It requires economic units to make all kinds of decisions in anticipation of the choices of other units — we are working together; my plans won’t work out if you can change yours too freely. But at the same time, you need to have enough space to adapt to new developments — as with train cars, there needs to be some slack in the coupling between economic unit for things to run smoothly. One dimension of this slack is the treatment of some extended period as if it were a single instant.
This is such a basic, practical requirements of contracting and management that we hardly think about it. For example, budgets — most organizations budget for periods no shorter than a quarter, which means that as far as internal controls and reporting are concerned, anything that happens within that quarter happens at the same time.6Similarly, invoices normally require payment in 30 or 60 days, thus treating shorter durations as instantaneous. Contracts of all kinds are signed for extended periods on fixed money terms. All these arrangements assume that the changes in prices over a few months or a year are small enough that they can be safely ignored.can be modified when inflation is high enough to make the fiction untenable that 30, 60 or 90 days is an instant. Social coordination strongly benefits from the convention that shorter durations can be ignored for most periods, which means people behave in practice as if they expect inflation over such shorter periods to be zero.
Axel Leijonhufvud’s mid-70s piece on inflation is one of the most compelling accounts of this kinds of cost of inflation — the breakdown of social coordination — that I have seen. For him, the stability of money prices is the sine qua non of decentralized coordination through markets.
In largely nonmonetary economies, important economic rights and obligations will be inseparable from particularized relationships of social status and political allegiance and will be in some measure permanent, inalienable and irrevocable. … In monetary exchange systems, in contrast, the value to the owner of an asset derives from rights, privileges, powers and immunities against society generally rather than from the obligation of some particular person. …
Neoclassical theories rest on a set of abstractions that separate “economic” transactions from the totality of social and political interactions in the system. For a very large set of problems, this separation “works”… But it assumes that the events that we make the subject of … the neoclassical model of the “economic system” do not affect the “social-political system” so as … to invalidate the institutional ceteris paribus clauses of that model. …
Double-digit inflation may label a class of events for which this assumption is a bad one. … It may be that … before the “near-neutral” adjustments can all be smoothly achieved, society unlearns to use money confidently and reacts by restrictions on “the circles people shall serve, the prices they shall charge, and the goods they can buy.”
One important point here is that inflation has a much greater impact than in conventional theory because of the price-stability assumption incorporated into any contract that is denominated in money terms and not settled instantly — which is to say, pretty much any contract. So whatever expectations of inflation people actually hold, the whole legal-economic system is constructed in a way that makes it behave as if inflation expectations were biased toward zero:
The price stability fiction — a dollar is a dollar is a dollar — is as ingrained in our laws as if it were a constitutional principle. Indeed, it may be that no real constitutional principle permeates the Law as completely as does this manifest fiction.
The market-prices-or-feudalism tone of this seems more than a little overheated from today’s perspective, and when Arjun and I asked him about this piece a few years ago, he seemed a bit embarrassed by it. But I still think there is something to it. Market coordination, market rationality, the organization of productive activity through money payments and commitments, really does require the fiction of a fixed relationship between quantities of money and real things. There is some level of inflation at which this is no longer tenable.
So I have no problem with the conventional view that really high inflations — triple digits and above — can cause far-reaching breakdowns in social coordination. But this is not relevant to the question of inflation of 1 or 2 or 5 or probably even 10 percent.
In this sense, I think the mainstream paradoxically both understates and overstates the real costs of inflation. They exaggerate the importances of small differences in inflation. But at the same time, because they completely naturalize the organization of life through markets, they are unable to talk about the possibility that it could break down.
But again, this kind of breakdown of market coordination is not relevant for the sorts of inflation seen in the United States or other rich countries in modern times.
It’s easier to talk about the costs (and benefits) of inflation when we see it as a change in relative prices, and redistribution of income and wealth.If inflation is typically a change in relative prices, then the costs are experienced by those whose incomes rise more slowly than their payments.Keynes emphasized this point in an early article on “Social Consequences of a Change in the Value of Money.”7
A change in the value of money, that is to say in the level of prices, is important to Society only in so far as its incidence is unequal. Such changes have produced in the past, and are producing now, the vastest social consequences, because, as we all know, when the value of money changes, it does not change equally for all persons or for all purposes. …
Keynes sees the losers from inflation as passive wealth owners, while the winners are active businesses and farmers; workers may gain or lose depending on the degree to which they are organized. For this reason, he sees moderate inflation as being preferable to moderate deflation, though both as evils to be avoided — until well after World War II, the goal of price stability meant what it said.
Let’s return for a minute to the question of wages. As far as I can tell, the experience in modern inflations is that wage changes typically lag behind prices. If you plot nominal wage growth against inflation, you’ll see a clear positive relationship, but with a slope well below 1. This might seem to contradict what I said under point 4. But my point there was that insofar as inflation is driven by increased worker bargaining power, it should be associated with faster real wage growth. In fact, the textbook is wrong not just on logic but on facts. In principle, a wage-driven inflation would see a rise in real wage. But most real inflations are not wage-driven.
In practice, the political costs of inflation are probably mostly due to a relatively small number of highly salient prices.
7. Inflation and production. The old monetarist view had a fixed quantity of money confronting a fixed quantity of goods, with the price level ending up at whatever equated them. As I mentioned above, the fixed-quantity-of-money part of this has been largely abandoned by modern mainstream as well as heterodox economists. But what about the other side? Why doesn’t more spending call forth more production?
The contemporary mainstream has, it seems to me, a couple ways of answering the question. One is the approach of a textbook like Blanchard’s. There, higher spending does lead to to higher employment and output and lower unemployment. But unless unemployment is at a single unique level — the NAIRU — inflation will rise or fall without limit. It’s exceedingly hard to find anything that looks like a NAIRU in the data, as critics have been pointing out for a long time. Even Blanchard himself rejects it when he’s writing for central bankers rather than undergraduates.
There’s a deeper conceptual problem as well. In this story, there is a tradeoff between unemployment and inflation. Unemployment below the NAIRU does mean higher real output and income. The cost of this higher output is an inflation rate that rises steadily from year to year. But even if we believed this, we might ask, how much inflation acceleration is too much? Can we rule out that a permanently higher level of output might be worth a slowly accelerating inflation rate?
Think about it: In the old days, the idea that the price level could increase without limit was considered crazy. After World War II, the British government imposed immense costs on the country not just to stabilize inflation, but to bring the price level back to its prewar level. In the modern view, this was crazy — the level of prices is completely irrelevant. The first derivative of prices — the inflation rate — is also inconsequential, as long as it is stable and predictable. But the second derivative — the change in the rate of inflation — is apparently so consequential that it must be kept at exactly zero at all costs. It’s hard to find a good answer, or indeed any answer, for why this should be so.
The more practical mainstream answer is to say, rather than that there is a tradeoff between unemployment and inflation with one unambiguously best choice, but that there is no tradeoff. In this story, there is a unique level of potential output (not a feature of the textbook model) at which the relationship between demand, unemployment and inflation changes. Below potential, more spending calls forth more production and employment; above potential, more spending only calls forth higher inflation. This looks better as a description of real economies, particular given that the recent experience of long periods of elevated unemployment that have not, contrary to the NAIRU prediction, resulted in ever-accelerating deflation. But it begs the question of why should be such a sharp line.
The alternative view would be that investment, technological change, and other determinants of “potential output” also respond to demand. Supply constraints, in this view, are better thought of in terms of the speed with which supply can respond to demand, rather than an absolute ceiling on output.
Well, this post has gotten too long, and has been sitting in the virtual drawer for quite a while as I keep adding to it. So I am going to break off here. But it seems to me that this is where the most interestingconversations around inflation are going right now — the idea that supply constraints are not absolute but respond to demand with varying lags — that inflation should be seen as often a temporary cost of adjustment to a new higher level of capacity. And the corollary, that anti-inflation policy should aim at identifying supply constraints as much as, or more than, restraining demand.
The website Age of Economics has been carrying out a series of interviews with economists about what the purpose of the discipline it is, and what its relationship is to capitalism as a historical social system. I believe there will be 52 of these interviews, one each week over the course of 2021. Earlier this spring, they interviewed Arjun Jayadev and myself. You can watch video of the interview here. I’ve pasted the transcript below.
Q: Why does economics matter?
JWM: The most obvious way that economics matters is that it has an enormous prestige in our society. Economists have a level of respect and authority that no other social scientist, arguably no other academic discipline possesses. An enormous number of policy debates are conducted in the language of economics. There’s an ability of an economist to speak directly in policy settings, in political settings in a way that most academics simply can’t. And so Joan Robinson has that famous line that the reason you study economics is to avoid being fooled by economists.
And there’s some truth to that. Even if you think that the discipline is completely vacuous, it’s worth learning its language and techniques just in order to be able to at least criticize the arguments that other economists are making. But I would say we don’t think that economics is completely worthless and vacuous because we think it does bring some positive ways of thinking to the larger conversation. One thing that is defining of economics is the insistence on formalizing ideas, expressing your thoughts in some highly abstract way, either as a system of equations or a system of diagrams in a way where you’re explicitly stating all of the causal relationships that you think exist in the story that you’re trying to tell.
And that’s a useful habit of thinking that is not necessarily as widespread outside the economics profession. Sometimes you can learn new things just by writing down your assumptions and working through them. The whole debate in the heterodox field about wage led growth versus profit led growth, what are the circumstances where redistribution from profits to wages is likely to boost demand? And what are the situations where it’s likely to reduce demand? There are real insights that come out of trying to write down your vision of the economy as a system of equations.
The notion of balance of payments-constrained growth, where we think that maybe for a lot of countries, the thing that’s fundamentally driving the rate of growth that they can sustain is how responsive, how income-elastic, their exports are versus their imports is another set of ideas that comes out of writing down a formal model in the first case.
So this is a useful discipline that training as an economist gives you, that people with other kinds of backgrounds don’t have. This effort to make explicit the causal connections that you have in mind.
AJ: It’s also important to realize that economics has come up with some very useful concepts, to make sense of this world around us: concepts like GDP or employment. These are concepts which are well defined and measured, and help us to have an understanding of the system as a whole.
Admittedly, lots of economics education doesn’t pay as much attention to this side of economics as it should. And maybe the question was an implicit critique — when you ask why does economics matter, there are some people who feel that it doesn’t matter because of what’s happened to the discipline. Josh and I both like this particular quote by the economist Trygve Haavelmo. He said that the reason that you learn economics is to – I believe the phrase is – “to be a master of the happenings of real life”.
And that that’s why one should be doing economics, not as an exercise in and of itself, but to understand what’s happening in the world.
JWM: That’s right. The real secret to doing good economics is to start from somewhere other than economics. You may come into economics with a set of political commitments as Arjun and I both did, but you may also come in with a desire to make money in the business world and you’re associating with people who do that, or you come in because you’re focused on a particular set of public debates that you want to clarify your thinking about. If you come in with some other set of concerns that are going to guide you in terms of what’s important, what’s relevant, what’s reasonable, then you’ll find a lot of useful tools within economics.
The problem arises with people – and, unfortunately, this I’d say is the majority of professional economists – who don’t have any independent intellectual or personal base, their intellectual development is entirely within academic economics. And then it becomes very easy to lose sight of the happenings of real life that this field is supposed to be illuminating.
Q: What are the differences between economic science (academic economics) and economic engineering (policymaking)?
JWM: Today there’s a very wide gap between academic economics and what we might call policy economics, particularly in macro. If you’re a labor economist, maybe the terms that are used in academic studies and the terms that are used in policy debates might be might be closer to each other. But there’s a long standing divide between the questions that academic macroeconomists ask and the questions that come in policy debates which has gotten much wider since the crisis.
The unfortunate fact – and people are going to say this is not fair, but I can tell you, I’ve looked at qualifying exams, recent ones from graduate programs in macroeconomics, and this is a fair characterization, what I’m about to say – that the way academic macroeconomics trains people to think is to imagine a representative agent with perfect knowledge of the probabilities of all future events, who is then choosing the best possible outcome for them in terms of maximizing utility over infinite future time under a given set of constraints. That is literally what you are trained to think about if you are getting an academic training in macroeconomics. For people who are not economists listening to this, you have to study this stuff to understand how weird it is.
Unfortunately that aspect of the profession has not changed very much since the financial crisis of a decade ago. On the other hand, the public debate on macroeconomic questions has moved a lot. So there’s a much wider range of perspectives if you look at people in the policy world or the financial press or even in the business world. So in some ways the public debate has gotten much better over the past decade, but that’s widening the gap between the public debate and academic macroeconomics. I don’t know how exactly this will come about, but at some point we’re going to have to essentially throw out the existing graduate macroeconomics curriculum and start fresh, roll back the clock to 1979 or start from somewhere else, because it does seem like the dominant approach in academic macroeconomics is an intellectual dead end.
AJ: We have friends who are doing a lot of good work in labor economics. People like Arin Dube at UMass Amherst, which is one of these places which takes these things seriously, or my colleague Amit Basole where I am at Azim Premji University. And in some fields there is back and forth between the world that exists and policymaking and the craft of economics and academic economics.
It requires also talking to people from outside the discipline to see how far academic economics and macroeconomics has drifted away from policymaking. And this is why I come back to the Haavalmo point. The reason for us to be doing many of the things we are doing is academic macroeconomist is to try to see if we can have an effect on the world, understand the world. And this distinction has become so sharp right now to make it dysfunctional.
Now, the additional problem that comes with it is that because this kind of theory is hard, it’s complex and it’s weird, people spend a lot of time invested in this activity. When I say this activity, I mean basically solving equations, but for some imaginary state. That’s not only limited to macro, but it’s the worst in macro. And as a result, it becomes very hard for people to pull away from that, and say that there’s something wrong. The emperor’s new clothes moment is extremely painful to face.
But it is interesting that one of the advantages of studying macroeconomics is there are always people who want to understand what’s happening in the world. And what you might call concrete policy macroeconomics has got much more open, much more interesting than in the past. There’s an economic science aspect in concrete policy macroeconomics. I wouldn’t want to separate them so sharply as you might have done in the question.
JWM: And to be fair, there are plenty of prominent mainstream macroeconomists who have a lot of interesting and insightful things to say about real economies. The thing is that when they’re talking about the real world, they ignore what they do in their scholarly work. They’re smart enough and they’ve got time and energy that they can they can follow both tracks at once, but they’re still two separate tracks.
But for most people, that’s not practical. And if you get sucked into the theory, then you stop thinking about the real questions. And the other thing, just to be fair, is that in the world of empirical macroeconomics, there’s more interesting work being done. The problem is that there isn’t a body of theory that the empirical work can link up with.
Q: What role does economics play in society? Does it serve the common good?
JWM: You can certainly criticize economists for being ideological. There are very specific assumptions about how the world works that are baked into the theory in a way that is not even visible to the people who are educated in that theory.
But it’s almost impossible to imagine a non-ideological economics. In principle we could study the economy scientifically in the way we study other areas of existence scientifically. But we can’t do it as long as we live in a capitalist economy because the questions are too close to the basic structures of authority and hierarchy of our society. They are too close to the ways that all the inequalities, all the sources of power in our society are legitimated.
They can’t just be scrutinised in a neutral way from the outside. So as long as we live under capitalism, we are never going to have an established scientific study of capitalism. That’s just not possible. In a way, you could even say that the function of a lot of academic economics is not so much to instill a particular ideological view of capitalism, but just to stop people from thinking about it systematically at all. It gives you something else to think about instead.
That doesn’t mean that on an individual level we should not aspire to be scientific in a broad sense in our approach. We should expose our ideas to critical scrutiny. We should systematically consider alternatives and formulate hypotheses and see if the world is giving us reason to think our hypotheses are right or wrong. we should follow that.
But we should also recognize that you’re going to be on the margins as you do this. That’s OK, because the life of a professional economist is pretty good. So the margins of the profession is still a perfectly fine place to be. But that’s where you’re going to be. Or occasionally in moments of deep crisis, when the survival of the system is at stake, then there will be periods where a more rational perspective on it is tolerated.
But the notion that we’re going to persuade people in the economics profession that we have a better set of ideas and we’re going to win out that way, it misses that there is a deep political reason why economics is the way it is. So again, as we were saying at the beginning, if you want to do good scientific work, you have to have a foot outside the profession to give you a base somewhere else.
Hayek is probably not somebody that neither of us agrees with on very much, but he has a nice line about this, he says, “no one can be a great economist who is only an economist.” And that’s very true.
AJ: The question reminds me of the famous story about Keynes when he finishes being the editor of the Economic Journal, where he raises a toast to the economists who are the trustees of the possibility of civilization. There’s a belief among economists that they are standing apart and guiding the forces of history.
Well, that sounds a little pompous. Keynes could get away with it. Nowadays we wouldn’t say that, but we’d say that we maximizing social welfare, which is in some ways the same thing. One of the things that you ask is, is it serving the common good? One of the things that economics does in its training is posit a common good. And that immediately takes you away from the space of politics. Becausethere are many situations in the economy in which there are conflicts of interest.
These are not just conflicts of opinions. It’s conflicts around things like the distribution of income and so on. And these questions become unavoidably political. It’s pulling away from that, which, by the way, the Classical economists never did, that allows you to talk about something abstract like social welfare. So I would say the economics can play a role in trying to understand what we would want to have from a democratic, open, egalitarian society. But positing something like the common good can sometimes obscure that.
Q: Economics provides answers to problems related to markets, efficiency, profits, consumption and economic growth. Does economics do a good job in addressing the other issues people care about: climate change and the wider environment, the role of technology in society, issues of race and class, pandemics, etc.?
JWM: We might turn this question around a little bit. Economics does best when it’s focused on urgent questions like climate change. We do better economics when we’re oriented towards towards real urgent live political questions like around race and class. This is what we’re saying: Economics when it’s focused on questions of markets and efficiency in the abstract, doesn’t contribute very much to the conversation. It quickly loses contact with the real phenomena that it’s supposed to be dealing with.
And what focuses our attention is precisely that second set of questions that you raise. Those are the questions that create enough urgency to force people to adopt a more realistic economics. So in that sense, we do a better job talking about markets, we give a better, more useful definition of things like efficiency when we’re focused on concrete questions like climate change. There’s a good reason that modern macroeconomics begins with the Great Depression, because this is a moment when you do need to look at the economy as it is.
Today, it’s obvious that the existing models aren’t working, and there’s a political urgency to coming up with a better set of stories, a better set of tools. The climate crisis has a good chance to be a similar clarifying moment as the 1930s, more so than the financial crisis of a decade ago or whatever the next financial crisis is.
Climate change may force us to rethink some of our broader economic ideas in a more fundamental way. The truth is established economic theory does not give good answers in general to the problems of profits, economic growth and so on. And a focus on climate change can improve the field in that way.
The other thing you bring up is race, class, and gender. The problem here is that nobody has a God’s eye view of the world. Nobody can step out of their own skin and see things from a perfectly objective view. As a middle class white man in the United States, I have a particular way of looking at the world, which is in some ways a limiting one. Economics as a field would be better if we had more diversity, a broader range of backgrounds and perspectives.
AJ: I’d like to add, there is no reason why a particular set of tools that you use in one sphere should automatically be something that you can use in another sphere. The way that modern economics is set up is just a set of maximization problems, it allows people to seamlessly say that they are studying on the one hand buying oranges and apples, and on the other side solving the problems of climate change.
So there is an issue in the way that you posit, thatit is using tools which it may be – I agree with Josh, it’s not very good at – but it may be better than its applications in other spheres. A famous example is the choice of discount rate for climate change. And that’s been such a long-standing disaster in the amount of time we’ve spent to think about this particular issue for which that analysis is completely inappropriate.
So, yes, there are places when it may be more appropriate, but maybe it’s not even very appropriate in those spheres. I would agree with Josh that this current moment and other moments of crisis – you mentioned 2008 – has opened up the space to think much more carefully about specific issues. And when you have a crisis that confronts you, it forces you to come up with a different economics or use other traditions of economics which have better answers than the ones that are there presently.
Q: As we live in an age of economics and economists – in which economic developments feature prominently in our lives and economists have major influence over a wide range of policy and people – should economists be held accountable for their advice?
JWM: As Arjun was saying earlier,this question is almost giving economics as a field too much credit, in the sense that it suggests that a lot of economic outcomes are directly dependent on the advice given by economists. Economics, as we’ve said, has an enormous prestige in terms of the presence of economists in all sorts of public debates. But a lot of times if you look at how views change, it’s not the economists who are leading the way. It’s the politicians or the broader public who’ve shifted. And then the economist come in to justify this after the fact.
There’s a certain sense, as a concrete example, where a lot of the development in macroeconomic theory over the past generation has been an after-the-fact effort to justify the policies that central banks were already following. Like a way of demonstrating that what central banks were already doing in terms of inflation target, using something like the Taylor Rule was the socially optimal thing. And that generalizes pretty widely.
So I’m not sure that we should be blaming or crediting economists for policy outcomes that they probably do more to legitimate or help with the execution of than to shift. The other reason I don’t personally see this as a particularly productive direction to go in is: who’s going to impose the accountability, who’s going to step in and say, all right, you were wrong and that had consequences and now you’re going to pay a penalty.
There’s no consensus position from which to do that. So we all just have to go on making our arguments the best we can and we’re not going to reach agreement. And so we try to shift the debate our way and somebody else shifts it their way, and there’s never going to be an impartial referee who’s going to come in and say that one side was right and the other was wrong.
AJ: Having been practicing economist for 10-15 years, broadly one has to realize that whatever you say and whatever you think and whatever you do, is strictly circumscribed by what the world is open to at that point of time. That’s something that’s sometimes hard for us to accept. There are many people who for years made the argument that we shouldn’t be so concerned about supply constraints, and it was only after 2012, 13, 14, 15- when the world started to move away from austerity or the costs of austerity became well known, that space was made for these arguments. And it’s always like that.
Spaces are there in some moments and not in other moments. Andthere are those people who for whatever reason in some universities, in some spaces, seem to capture elite opinion. They’re the ones who you see again and again and again. It doesn’t matter if they’re right or wrong, they’re the ones who are opinion makers.
I don’t think this is distinct from any other kind of marketing. There are always going to be a few people who are opinion and market leaders. Having said that, it would be good to have a list of when people were wrong. And sometimes it would be good to take people down a peg or two.
But again, I don’t think it’s an important thing. I don’t think that we should necessarily valorise economics and economists one way or the other.
6. Does economics explain Capitalism? How would you define Capitalism?
AJ: If you want to think about capitalism as a system, you need to go back to Karl Marx. You don’t have to call yourself a Marxist, but if you want to think about the questions like the ones that you just posed, you have to take him very seriously because his work is the foundation of many of the ways that we think about capitalism. Josh and I are working on a book and we take up this question about what capitalism means, and in our minds it has a clear definition. It has three elements, or three phases.
The first is the conversion of all kinds of human activities and their products into commodities, this thing that you buy and sell, this alienated thing that is sold in markets. That’s the first. The second is the endless accumulation of money as an end to itself. That’s the drive of the system, which seems to be out of human control. And then finally, something which is very critical and which gives itsome of its emotional heft, there is the hierarchy in the workplace where people work under the authority of the boss.
All three of these elements are there historically. But their fusion in this incredibly changeable system that we’ve had for 200 years, that has been unique. That’s the central aspect that we want to focus on, the combination of these three things. And it’s the fact that when combined it gives you this dynamism, this ability to transform society, in far reaching ways that seem out of human control. That’s what I would say capitalism is.
JWM: I agree, that’s the correct definition of capitalism as a system. The problem comes when you try to pull out one of those elements in isolation and think that’s what defines the system. It’s the fusion of the three of them.
The other piece, which maybe isn’t quite as defining but historically has been very important, is that the process of endless accumulation has this moment in the middle of it where money is tied up, locked up in long-lived means of production, that you’re not just buying commodity, working it up and then selling it again, but you’ve got machines, you’ve got buildings, you’ve got technology.
So there’s this long gap between the outlay and the final sale. And that’s one of the things that has made this a system that is dynamic and has transformed human productive capacities in ways that we would agree with Marx’s judgment that in the long run, expand the space for human freedom and possibilities because it’s broken up the old, local, simple ways of carrying out productive activity and allowed people to have a much more extensive division of labor, much wider scale cooperation and the development of all of these new ways of transforming the world through technology that didn’t exist before or that were much – let’s not say it didn’t exist, but developed much more slowly in limited ways before.
But this is also where a lot of the conflict comes up, because you build up a business and it exists for its own purposes, it has its own norms, it has its own internal logic. And then at some point, you have to turn the products of that back into money to keep the accumulation process going. And so a lot of the tensions around the system come from that.
The other part of your question is, can economics explain capitalism. From our point of view economics is part of the larger set of social phenomena that grow out of the generalisation of capitalism as a way of organizing human life and productive activity. In that sense, you can’t use the tools of economics to explain capitalism, because economics is within capitalism. The categories of economics are specific to capitalism. If you want to explain the origins of it, you need a different set of tools. It’s a historical question rather than one that you can answer with the tools of economics.
Q: Is Capitalism, or whatever we should call the current system, the best one to serve the needs of humanity, or can we imagine another one?
JWM: We don’t have to imagine other systems, they’re all around us. As Arjun was saying earlier, we all of us experience every day systems where productive activity is organized through some collective decision making process. An enormous amount of our productive work, our reproductive labor that keeps us going individually and collectively, is carried out in the family. Some families are more egalitarian, some families are more hierarchical, but no family is organized on the basis of the pursuit of profit – well, let’s not say none, but a trivially small fraction of them are.
So we all have firsthand experience that this is a way that we can organize our activity. We all know that within the workplace you personally don’t make decisions based on some profit maximizing criteria. And your immediate boss isn’t doing it that way either. Probably they’re just following orders and some bureaucratic system, or perhaps there’s an element of voluntary cooperation going on.
But either way, it’s a different way of organizing our activity than the notion of markets and the pursuit of profit. As academics, we’re fortunate enough to have a collective decision making process that covers a lot of the traditional roles of the capitalist employer. We collectively decide on hiring and we collectively organize our work schedules and so on.
Obviously, very few workers in the world are as fortunate as academics in that way. But the point is that this is a model that exists. It works. Certainly here in the United States, higher education is one of our big industrial success stories. And it’s organizedas a bunch of little worker co-ops!
In any workplace, there are moments when people sit down to make a decision together, where people do stuff because that’s just what makes sense and what they’ve agreed to do, as opposed to somebody making a calculation of self-interest. This is what David Graeber in his wonderful book, Debt, talks about as “everyday communism.” Even in the most traditional workplace if somebody says pass me that hammer or can you do some little favor for me, people do it just as a way of cooperating and not because they’ve been ordered to or because they’re calculating that it will pay off for them.
And then we have a huge public sector in the world as well. We have public schools and public libraries and public transit and fire and police services and so on. So we already have an enormous amount of non-capitalist organization of production around us. We don’t have to imagine it.
The challenge intellectually is to generalize from this stuff, to recognize how these principles can be applied more broadly. We don’t have to create something new, but we do have to bring in general principles. For people on the left, or people who support individual public sector programs or individual non- capitalist ways of organizing particular activities, there’s often a tendency to make the argument in terms of that specific activity: well, here’s why we want public schools and we want better funding for our public schools. As opposed to trying to articulate what is the general principle that makes markets and the pursuit of profit a bad way to organize that. What is the general principle that says teachers should have autonomy?
We want less authority of the boss in the classroom. That’s why we have civil service protection, that’s why we have professions, because we want workers to have autonomy. But we need to be able to say why.
We want to move away from the model of proletarian labor where you’re completely under the authority of the boss. We do that in a lot of specific cases already. The intellectual challenge is to generalize that and see how we can apply it more broadly to the areas of society where it’s not not currently organized that way.
AJ: The question is nicely posed, becausemost people would broadly agree that capitalism generates a lot of good. But there’s been a sense right from the beginning that it may not be serving the needs of humanity. That the only word that describes this is a drive, an alien drive which sometimes intersects with the need of human beings and very often doesn’t.
When we think aboutwhat happens in farms, for example, and how so many people spend their entire lives working as drones, it’s very tragic history.Yes, people are richer and healthier as well. Butcapitalism, the way that it’s developed, has not served the needs of humanity.
We don’t have to look historically. Let’s look at what’s happening right now with vaccination. The belief that you needed intellectual property and you can only solve this by the genius of a few pharmaceutical companies when in fact, what happened in all of this innovation was that it was the public sector backing all of this, which made certainly some of the vaccines even viable in the first place. And so now you have this perverse situation where some people are prevented from access because we want to maintain whatever capitalist institutions that we’ve built up.
So it’s important to realize that capitalism, while it’s done many great things as Marx and others recognized,it’s never been a force which has very nicely dovetailed with human needs. But that what’s useful now to think about is, as Josh said, we don’t need to imagine an alternative – we have a model and a system that’s already there, that we’re going to replace it with.
This thing will happen incrementally. Maybe this is radical optimism, but we both believe that the domain organized around these arbitrary hierarchies – the market and so on, is shrinking. Maybe in the next few generations with the challenge of climate change, with more crises and with a truly global world, the responses to those will mean that the domain of collective freedom will be much greater in the future than now.
And the domain of capitalism will be smaller.
JWM:I want to amplify something Arjun just said — the vaccine is a perfect example of this dynamic. On the one hand, we have a urgent collective problem, this pandemic. And the solution is directed by the public. It’s a collective decision mediated by governments to devote our common resources to solving this problem.
And it’s incredibly effective when you want to solve this problem and you have a political decision to do it. You can work wonders. And it’s carried out by scientists who have a whole set of professional norms around the conduct of science, which is precisely in order to suppress market incentives. We don’t want scientists thinking about how to get rich. Now, we do get that because that’s ubiquitous in our society, but the reason we have a whole set of professional norms around science is precisely because we think that this is the activity that people carry out better when they’re insulated from market incentives.
And then we have a centralized public direction to mobilize their activity. But the problem is that the fruits of that still have to be squeezed into this box of private property. Somebody has to have a property right over all this collective labor and public resources in the form of a patent.
And that then limits the value of this work. It makes the success much less than it could have been. We already are seeing that conflict and we’re going to continue seeing it even more so as we deal with problems like the pandemic and climate change and so on.
When we urgently need to solve a problem, we find we do it by suppressing the logic of the market and making decisions collectively. But then as long as we still have this overarching insistence on organizing our claims on each other in the form of property rights, it creates a conflict, it gets in the way of that. And over time, again, just the necessity of solving our urgent problems is going to force us to move away from the private property model and away from the pursuit of profit, and towards more rational collective ways of dealing with the problems that face us.
Mike Konczal, Lauren Melodia and I have a new report out from the Roosevelt Institute, on what true full employment might look like in the United States.
This is part of a larger project of imagining what an economic boom would look like. As Mike and I argued in our recent New York Times op-ed, there’s a real possibility that the coming years could see a historic boom, thanks to the exceptionally strong stimulus measures of the past year and, hopefully, the further expansions of public spending on the way. (Interestingly, the term “boom” is now making it into Biden’s speeches on the economy.) If the administration, Congress and the Fed don’t lose their nerve and stay on the path they’re currently on, we could soon be seeing economic growth and rising wages in a way that we haven’t since at least the late 1990s.
This is going to call for a new way of thinking about economic policy. Over the past decade or more, the macroeconomic policy debate has been dominated by a consensus that is more concerned with the supposed dangers of public debt than stagnation, and sees any uptick in growth or wages as worryingly inflationary. Meanwhile, the left knows how to criticize austerity and bailouts for business, and to make the case for specific forms of public spending, but has a harder time articulating the benefits of sustained growth and tight labor markets.
What we’re trying to do is move away from the old, defensive fights about public debt and austerity and make the positive case for a bigger more active public sector. There’s no reason the Right should have a monopoly on promises faster growth and improvements in peoples material living standards. Post-covid, we’re looking at a new “morning in America” moment, and progressives should be prepared to take credit.
One of the great appeals of the Green New Deal framing on climate change is that it turns decarbonization from a question of austerity and sacrifice into a promise to improve people’s material well being, not decades from now but right now, and in ways that go well beyond climate itself. I think this promise is not just politically useful but factually well-founded, and could just as well be made for other expansions of the public sector.
This is an argument that I and others have been making for years. Of course, any promise of faster growth and higher living standards has to confront the argument, enshrined in macroeconomics textbooks, that the economy is already operating close to potential, at least most of the time — that the Federal Reserve has taken care of the demand problem. In that case, the Keynesian promise that more spending can call forth more production would no longer apply.
We’ve tended to respond to this argument negatively — that there is no evidence that the US now was facing any kind of absolute supply constraint or labor shortage before the pandemic, let alone now. This is fine as far as it goes, and I think our side of the debate has won some major victories — Jay Powell and Janet Yellen both now seem to agree that as of 2019 the US was still well short of full employement. Still, I think it’s legitimate for people to ask, “If this isn’t full employment, then what would be?” We need a positive answer of our own, and not just a negative criticism of the textbook view.
This new paper is an attempt to do just that — to construct an estimate of full employment that doesn’t build in the assumption that recent labor market performance was close to it. One way to do this is to compare the US to other advanced countries, many of which have higher employment-population ratios than the US, even after adjusting for age differences. We chose to take a different approach, one that instead looks at differences in employment rates within the US population.
From the executive summary:
This issue brief argues that potential employment in the US is much higher than we have seen in recent years. In addition to those officially counted in the labor force, there is a large latent labor force, consisting of people who are not currently seeking work but who could reasonably be expected to do so given sustained strong labor demand. This implies much more labor market slack than conventional measures of unemployment suggest.
An important but less familiar sign of labor market slack is the difference in employment rates between groups with more- and less-privileged positions in the labor market. Because less-favored groups—Black workers, women, those with less formal education, those just entering the labor market—are generally last hired and first fired, the gaps between more- and less-favored groups vary systematically over the business cycle. When labor markets are weak and employers can pick and choose among potential employees, the gap between employment rates for more- and less-favored groups widens. When labor markets are tight, and workers have more bargaining power, the gap shrinks.
We use this systematic relationship between overall labor market conditions and employment rates across race, gender, education, and age to construct a new measure of potential employment. In effect, since more-favored workers will be hired before less-favored ones, the difference in outcomes between these groups is a measure of how close hiring has gotten to the true back of the line.
We construct our measure in stages. We start with the fact that changes in employment rates within a given age group cannot reflect the effect of population aging. Simply basing potential employment by age groups on employment rates that have been observed historically implies potential employment 1.7 points higher than the CBO estimates.
Next, we close the employment gaps by race and gender, on the assumption that women and Black Americans are no less able or willing to work than white men of a similar age. (When adjusting for gender, we make an allowance for lower employment rates among parents of young children). This raises potential employment by another 6.2 points.
Finally, reducing the employment gap between more- and less-educated workers in line with the lower gaps that have been observed historically adds another 1.8 points to the potential employment rate.
In total, these adjustments yield a potential employment-population ratio 10 points higher than the CBO estimates, equivalent to the addition of about 28 million more jobs over the next decade.
Adding these 28 million additional jobs over the next decade would require an average annual growth in employment of 2.1 percent. The employment growth that would fully mobilize the latent labor force, as estimated here, is in line with the rate of GDP growth required to repair the damage from the Great Recession of 2007–2009 and return GDP to its pre–2007 trend.
