Tag Archives: Reagan

By George P. Brockway, originally published May 19, 1993

1993-5-19 Why Productivity Will Unto Clintonomics title

THE FIRST COLUMN in this series, almost 12 years ago, was titled “Why Speculation Will Undo Reaganomics” (NL, September 7, 1981). Well, I was wrong. I was right enough in my analysis – that speculation would enrich the rich and impoverish the poor and bring on what we now call a credit crunch – but I naively could not imagine anyone being pleased with such an outcome. By last November, of course, a considerable majority of the voters did become displeased, if not with the enrichment of the rich and the impoverishment of the poor, at least with the stagnation that followed from the polarization of the economy.

I now feel possessed of another prophecy. And I hope I’m wrong again.

When I say productivity will undo Clintonomics, I mean just that. I don’t mean lack of productivity. I mean what the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal and the Economist are always writing about, what Nobel laureates in economics from MIT are always talking about, what Labor Secretary Robert Reich is now planning to try to increase. I mean that to the extent that Clintonomics is successful in improving our productivity, it will fail to improve our standard of living.

If our aim is what all these worthies say it should be, we can achieve it by decreasing production, profits, employment and wages. In fact, this is what General Motors and IBM and other giants of our economy are doing today. The fashionable word for their activity is downsizing, and the purpose is to step up productivity. Given a modicum of managerial skill and luck, half of the downsized corporations may actually improve their rating on the productivity scale. But their production and profits and employment and wages will mostly be lower. And the national product and profits and employment and labor income will certainly be lower.

Productivity is not a new idea. It was an old idea when President Reagan, in his first year in office, created a 33-member National Productivity Advisory Committee headed by former Treasury Secretary William E. Simon. You never heard of that committee? Who ever did? A year or so after its appointment I spent some time trying to find out what it had accomplished. Although I wrote as CEO of an American corporation, Simon did not answer my inquiries, nor did the White House. Finally, Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan was able to dig up for me three or four slim pamphlets published by a second productivity committee that had been created some months after the initial one. I still have the pamphlets somewhere in this mess I call my study. As I recall them, they were paeans to efficiency and might well have been written by Frederick Winslow Taylor a hundred years earlier.

When economists started playing with productivity they changed it radically. They defined it clearly enough as output per unit of input. In keeping with their passion for mathematics, though, they devised an equation to determine it and an index to rank performance. Since labor is by far the largest factor of input, they thought to simplify the equation by letting labor stand for all inputs. This had the further attraction of allowing them to quantify input in “real” rather than dollars-and-cents terms, as they would have had to do in order to add the input of labor to the inputs of land, capital, technology, and whatever other factors one might name. Mathematical economists tend to believe that money is not real and don’t like to talk about it in public, but their simplification, as I’ve shown in greater detail elsewhere (see The End of Economic Man, Revised–Adv.), causes a serious distortion.

The productivity equation relates two quantities. It is a ratio, an ordinary fraction. In the United States it is computed by the Bureau of Labor Statistics of the Department of Labor, which divides the gross domestic product of a period by the number of hours worked in the period. “Hours worked” includes those of proprietors, unpaid family members and others “engaged” in any business.

Like all simple fractions, this one can be increased in the two ways we learned in grade school: by increasing the numerator (2/3 is greater than 1/3), or by decreasing the denominator (1/2 is also greater than 1/3)[1]. Given this property of fractions, a moment’s reflection will satisfy you that the productivity index is constitutionally incapable of providing an unequivocal answer to any question you may reasonably want to ask. It tells nothing of the size or nature of the domestic product, and nothing of the size, composition or compensation of the labor force.

The index goes up when production fails, provided “hours worked” falls faster; that is what the downsizing movement aims for. The other name for this result is recession, or depression. On the other hand, the index declines when production rises, provided “hours worked” rises faster. The other name for this result is nonsense. The economy is not less prosperous, nor is the nation weaker, because more people are working. (Otherwise, why are we so eager to get welfare mothers to work?)

The foregoing is obvious, and the mathematics is indefeasible. How is it, then, that so many intelligent, experienced, well-intentioned men and women –practically the entire membership of the American Economic Association, not to mention the with-it managements of our corporations great and small – are bemused by the productivity delusion? Psychology aside, I can make a stab at explanation.

Let’s begin with a quotation from a back issue of the Times: “A worker who produces 100 widgets an hour is clearly more productive than a worker who produces only 50 widgets an hour.” That is certainly true. And generalizing the observation, a nation of 100-widget-an-hour workers should be twice as prosperous as a nation of equal size composed of 50-widget-an-hour workers. True again – with one proviso, namely that both nations have full employment[2]. Should the first nation have only a third of its workers employed, while the second has full employment, the second will produce 50 per cent more widgets than the first and therefore will be more prosperous.

The assumption of full employment is one that economists are so comfortable with that they make it routinely, without thinking about it. Indeed, classical economics was based on this assumption, and so is neoclassical, or the economics currently practiced by most of the profession.

The beauty of full employment is that if you have it, almost anything you try will work. David Ricardo thought that England should stop making wine and concentrate on wool cloth, that Portugal should do the opposite, and that the two countries should exchange surpluses. The English vintners would become weavers, and so on. Given some rather special assumptions, this was a dandy idea in 1817 (and today it underlies the North American Free Trade Agreement). A better idea, because the British Isles were plagued by roving bands of homeless unemployed, would have been to employ the unemployed as vintners (or brewers or barley-water bottlers) and let the Portuguese keep their port, along with the wool they were perfectly capable of weaving.

If you have full employment, you can (and should) invest almost without limit to upgrade your product and upgrade the workers and capital plant that produce it. If you have millions of men and women who are unemployed or underemployed, you need to increase the number of hours worked. It doesn’t make much sense for the nation to train these people for jobs in industries that don’t exist, or that we can only imagine, to satisfy the presumed demands of a hypothetical global economy.

The new global economy is a hot ticket today. In the sense that we have one, however, there has almost always been one. Archaeologists now claim that the fabled Silk Route is two or three millennia older than Marco Polo thought. But the economic impact of the route was slight in prehistoric times, and at present the economic impact on us of Bombay and Cairo and Mexico City does not extend much beyond our corporations exploiting their labor in order to undercut our wage rates.

Unemployment is our problem. Adding up those who are officially called unemployed, those too discouraged to look for work, those too turned-off to think of working, and those able to find only occasional part-time work, recent testimony before a Congressional committee reached the appalling total of 17.3 million men and women. If we followed Mexican practice and counted as employed everyone who as much as cadged a tip for opening a car door last week, our unemployment total would be as low as the 2 per cent Mexico reports. Or if we followed mainstream economic practice and did not count at all the “naturally” unemployed, we could squinch our eyes shut and pretend that the problem didn’t exist (see “Are You Naturally Unemployed?” NL, August 10-24, 1992).

It exists, nevertheless. It really and truly exists, and as long as our best brains are trying desperately to reduce “hours worked,” it will not go away. Clintonomics may cauterize a few hundred malignant polyps at the top of our income distribution, and that will be all to the good. It may find suitable work for a few thousand middle managers rendered redundant by corporate or governmental downsizing, and that will be to the good. But unemployment will not be substantially reduced (except by the withdrawal of people from the official labor force), aggregate consumption will not be substantially increased, and whatever brave new hi-tech industries are created will stagnate for lack of consumers, here or abroad, able to buy their products.

These dismal outcomes will no doubt be exacerbated by the eagerness of Congress, whipped to a frenzy by Citizen Ross Perot, to cut government expenditures, and by the complementary unwillingness to fund the President’s already inadequate stimulus program. But all that aside, a mad drive for “productivity” in the face of long-lasting unemployment is fully sufficient to undo Clintonomics.

I hope I’m wrong, for I joined in the grateful cheering during the State of the Union address.

The New Leader

[1] Ed: Reminds me of seeing a colleague trying to explain some numerical analysis in a peer review session, a Friday Afternoon Seminar, and failing. Finally our founder stood up and said, “Well, that’s the trouble with ratios… They have a numerator and a denominator.”  He then walked off…

[2] Ed: Loyal readers will recall that the author does not believe in NAIRU, the natural rate of unemployment.

By George P. Brockway, originally published February 11, 1991

1991-2-11 Don't Bet On The Banks Title

I CAN’T THINK of a single good reason why the rest of the financial sector, led by the commercial banks, should not eventually follow the S&Ls to the woodshed. In a few cases the usual arguments about “the others” being more experienced or diversified may carry some weight, but in general their problems and those of the S&Ls have similar causes and will have similar consequences.

There is more than a trace of poetic justice here; the commercial banks lobbied hard for the deregulation that did in the S&Ls, and the same deregulation has returned to plague its champion.

Only 11 years ago, the states had usury laws that set the maximum interest rates for different loans. There were, of course, exceptions of various degrees of complexity, but the important point is that there were limits to what could be charged. The Federal Reserve Board set limits in the other direction, the most discussed being Regulation Q. To give the S&L’s a chance to survive, and to offset their being restricted essentially to home financing, Regulation Q allowed them to pay savings accounts a fraction of a point more than the commercial banks.

That system was a casualty of the Federal Reserve Board’s sensational and long-running battle with inflation (see “Who Killed the Savings and Loans?” NL, September 3, 1990). It took almost 30 years for the system to start to break down, and the collapse is not yet complete.

The reason for the long Untergang is the inherent stickiness of finance. In any 12months the nonfinancial sectors (public and private) make new borrowings equal to less than one-twelfth of their total indebtedness. The other eleven-twelfths includes 30-year mortgages still paying 4 per cent interest, 20-year Treasuries paying 15.75 per cent, credit card freaks paying 19.9 per cent, and all sorts of things in between.

With this big backlog (currently about $8.3 trillion), even very large shifts in the interest rate on new loans have only a lethargic effect on the nation’s overall interest rate. The overall rate was 9.55 per cent in 1979-when former Reserve Chairman Paul A. Volcker took well publicized command of the inflation battle-and reached 10.61 per cent a year later. As a result of Volcker’s policies, however, the average prime rate on new loans jumped from 12.67 per cent in 1979 to 15.27 per cent in 1980 and topped out at 21.5 per cent that December and the following January. Since what is comparatively slow going up is also comparatively slow coming down, the average interest rate is higher today than it was in 1980, although the prime is less than half its 1980 peak.

The stickiness of finance enabled the S&Ls and the commercial banks to withstand the surge of interest rates as long as they did. It is probable that the bankers (of all kinds) do not yet know what hit them; certainly the Federal Reserve Board (called the nation’s central bank by its present chairman, Alan Greenspan) does not know. So I’ll give them a hint. If they pay high interest to attract funds, they must charge high interest to cover their costs. And if businesses must pay high interest, they must charge high prices for their goods. At this point, the bubble gets very thin. Consumers do not have money to pay high prices, particularly if many have lost their jobs.

You can charge whatever amuses you for a book or a loaf of bread or a new broom to sweep things clean. Only the book or bread or broom business will be affected. But when you charge too much for the use of money (and it is the Federal Reserve Board that ultimately sets the rate), all businesses, all banks and insurance companies and “institutions,” and all men, women and children are affected.

The S&Ls were driven to the wall first, but the death march of the commercial banks is gathering momentum. Both S&Ls and commercial banks cheered when the state usury laws were suspended, and rushed to expand their real estate business. They are now suffering from a surfeit of residential condos, motor inns, office buildings, and shopping malls. The commercial banks greedily participated in the Great Recycling of OPEC’S profits and as a result will have to face up to their losses in the Third World. Many S&Ls and commercial banks have stuck themselves with junk bonds. How many will survive the recession?

Well, the Bush Administration proposes to help them by getting rid of two of the few remaining New Deal banking reforms. The most important of these keeps commercial banking separate from investment banking, insurance and especially ordinary business. The other restriction keeps commercial banks from branching out beyond a state’s borders.

In the cheery days of President Ronald Reagan, these regulations were anathema simply because they were regulations, and because, as some sports-minded journalist noticed, not one American bank ranked among the top 10 in the world. Even more shameful, most of the giant banks were Japanese. Once again it seemed that they knew something we didn’t know.

In the drearier economic days of President George Bush, less is said about the Japanese banks, for they have fallen on harder times. The index of leading stocks on the Japanese exchange fell 38.7 per cent in 1990, and the Japanese banks (this is one of the secrets of their size) have long positions in those stocks. They have long positions, too, in a rapidly falling real estate market, which they can speculate in (unlike American banks) as well as lend money on.

A few years ago, proposals to permit interstate Banking and to allow banks to own brokerage houses and insurance companies (and vice versa) would have caused a considerable hullabaloo. The large banks were in favor of changing everything; they wanted to get on that top 10 board with the Japanese. Likewise the big stock brokerage houses and insurance companies and all-in-one companies such as Sears, Roebuck. Smaller operators (except those who wanted to sell out for capital gains) preferred the existing conditions-although some would not have objected to dabbling in additional financial services, provided that other financial servers couldn’t dabble back.

Today, the Bush banking moves are not stirring much controversy. A professor of finance suggested recently in the New York Times that this is because they don’t go far enough, that there is nothing to shout about. But commercial banks are in trouble, and since the trouble is no longer confined to Texas and Oklahoma, there is little reason to expect greener pastures in other states. Nor is the solution to be found in putting them together with the problem plagued brokerage houses, insurance companies, pension funds, investment banks-and Sears, Roebuck. A couple of dozen such financial smorgasbords would likely result in a couple of dozen concentrated headaches, if not hemorrhages.

To be sure, the Administration promises to supervise the banks closely to prevent their making more bad loans. Does that mean they are not supervised closely now? Yes, it does. You see, supervision costs money, and you’ve heard about the deficit. Increased costs will have to be matched by increased taxes-in this case, Federal insurance fees. Higher insurance fees will mean lower interest on deposits, and that means money-market funds and Treasury bills will attract cash away from the banks. To keep their deposits, banks will have to pay higher interest, and to do that they’ll have to make more loans at high rates. Sound borrowers won’t pay high rates; so the banks will have to hunt for riskier deals (see “Big Is Ugly,” NL, September3, 1984). And that’s what got them where they are.

In short, interest rates aren’t innocent.  If you refuse to control them, you destabilize the financial sector-and the whole economy. If you manipulate them in a fallacious attempt to contain inflation, you bring on recession (See “Bankers Have the Classic COLA,” NL, January 9, 1989). And that’s what the Federal Reserve has done.

A GOOD DEAL of the trouble lies in the fact that few bankers understand how the capitalist system differs from the mercantilist system. In Legal Foundations of Capitalism (one of the neglected great books),

John R. Commons explains the shift from property as use-value to property as exchange value. This did not start in the United States until the first Minnesota Rate Case a century ago, and most bankers are still out of date. They remain mainly interested in fixed assets that can be attached, not in going concerns that generate cash flow and profits. Hence their fatal fascination with real estate and the idiotic recycling that transformed OPEC profits into loans that are in effect gifts of American money to rulers of Third World nations.

Willard Butcher, when he was chairman of Chase Manhattan, once delivered himself of a perfect example of bankerly thinking: “Is Mexico worth $85 billion?” he asked rhetorically. “Of course it is. It has oil, gold, silver, copper. … “All these assets are physical. You can touch them, and you can attach them. But they aren’t worth much if they can’t be sold at a profitable price, and when usurious interest rates are charged profitable prices are impossible.

On an arguably more modest level, I came up against this sort of thinking at another bank while I was in the publishing business. The bank examined our balance sheet and advised us that our inventory was too low. Did we have an unusually large number of titles out of stock? I asked. No, on that point our record was exceptionally good. Did we allow titles to go out of print too quickly? No, rather the contrary. Were we slow to fill orders? No, again. Our record here was the best the bank knew of. Did our practice of printing in relatively small quantities (this was before the Japanese made “just in time” inventory control famous) result in significantly higher unit costs? No, yet again.

You’d have to say that we were managing our inventory as well as anyone in publishing. Nevertheless, the bank insisted it was too low. The unspoken (or unrecognized) reason was that our low inventory meant we did not have much for the bank to attach if we got in trouble. It never crossed the bank’s mind that too much money tied up in inventory might get us in trouble, and that if we couldn’t sell the inventory profitably, the bank certainly would be unable to do so.

Commercial bankers aren’t the only people still living in a precapitalist world. Our financial system as a whole (S&Ls, banks, insurance companies, pension funds, “institutions” and supervisors) continues to be essentially mercantilist. Its ideal profit, like Bush’s, is a capital gain. In this understanding it is joined by mainstream economics, which analyzes business as a disconnected series of market-clearing ventures, not as a going concern. Until these two powerful sectors of our society are brought into the modern world, stagnation, punctuated by bankruptcies, is likely to be our lot.

 The New Leader

By George P. Brockway, originally published November 27, 1989

1989-11-27 What Happened to Jimmy Carter Title

James Mac Gregor Burns, Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer, historian, and political scientist, recently published The Crosswinds of Freedom, the third and final volume of his history of The American Experiment. The book confirms Burns’s standing as one of the foremost observers of the modern American scene.  It also carries forward the foreboding analysis he initiated in The Deadlock of Democracy: that American law, by creating a stalemate in politics, makes an almost impossible demand on-and for-leadership.

Jimmy Carter of course figures in Crosswinds, and reading about him makes you want to cry.  He was (and is) a decent man who apparently thought decency was enough, who had a talent for offbeat public relations, and who also had a propensity for shooting himself in the foot.  The prime example was the Iran hostage affair.  As Burns points out, it was Carter who kept that in the news, and it helped defeat him.  On the other hand, if not for Iran, Ted Kennedy might have been able to grab the Democratic nomination.  The economic situation was probably enough to finish Carter, no matter what.  In that connection I offer a footnote to Burns’s magisterial book.

During the last two years of Carter’s presidency we had double-digit jumps in the Consumer Price Index.  It is not clear why this happened.  The usual explanation blames OPEC.  What is generally forgotten is that OPEC blamed the strong dollar for its price increases.  For almost three decades – long before the advent of Paul Volckerthe Federal Reserve Board and other First World central banks had been steadily pushing interest rates higher, thus overhauling their currencies and raising the cost of the goods the OPEC members (which generally had few resources aside from their oil) bought from us.  Before raising their prices, OPEC tried for several years to persuade us to change our policies; but the Reserve plowed ahead, increasing the federal-funds rate from 4.69 percent in March 1977 to 6.79 percent in March 1978 and 10.09 percent in March 1979.

Finally, on March 27, 1979, OPEC oil went up 9 percent, to $14.54 a barrel, and three months later there was another jump of 24 percent.  In December OPEC was unable to agree on a uniform price, but individual hikes were made across the board. By July 1, 1980, the barrel price ranged from $26.00 in Venezuela to $34.72 in Libya.  Thus, in a little over a year, the cost of oil had more than doubled.

Yet petroleum accounted for less than 3 percentage points of the inflation. Moreover, in every OPEC year (and, indeed, in every year on record), the nation’s interest bill has been substantially greater than the national oil bill (including domestic oil and North Seas oil as well as OPEC oil).  If OPEC is to blame for the inflation of 1979-81, the Federal Reserve Board is even more to blame.

A major cause of the rest of it was hoarding, which resembles speculation yet differs from it in that real things are involved. During this period the stock market was quiescent:  The price/earnings ratio was lower than it had been at any time since 1950, and less than half what it would be in 1987 or is today [1989]. But hoarding, probably prompted by memories of the gas lines following the 1974 OPEC embargo, was heavy.

And not merely in petroleum; it extended to all sorts of commodities.  Manufacturers, wholesalers, retailers, and private citizens tried frenziedly to protect themselves against expected shortages. As often happens in such situations, the expectations were immediately self-fulfilled.  Confident that shortages would allow them to raise prices, manufacturers eagerly offered high prices themselves for raw materials they needed.  Maintenance of market share became an almost obsessive objective of business management.

In the book business, for example, “defensive buying” became common.  Bookstores and book wholesalers increased their prepublication orders for promising titles so that they would have stock if a runaway best-seller developed.  Publishers consequently increased their print orders to cover the burgeoning advance sales.  It soon became difficult to get press time in printing plants, and publishers increased press runs for this reason, too.  Naturally, everyone also stockpiled paper, overwhelming the capacity of the mills.  For all I know, the demand for pulpwood boosted prices of chain saws and of the Band-Aides needed by inexperienced sawyers.

Unlike speculation, hoarding has physical limits.  After a while, there’s no place to put the stuff.  And after a while, the realization dawns that a possible shortage of oil and gasoline doesn’t necessarily translate into an actual shortage of historical romances.  Moreover, the shortage of oil and gasoline, once the tanks were topped off, disappeared.  There was plenty of oil and gasoline; you just needed more money to buy it.  Hoarding-or most of it-slowed down and stopped.  Business inventories declined $8.3 billion in 1980.  But prices didn’t come down.

All this time Jimmy Carter was not idle, for he prided himself on being what we’ve come to call a hands-on manager.  As early as July 17, 1979, he got resignations from his Cabinet members and accepted several, including that of Treasury Secretary W. Michael Blumenthal. To fill the Treasury slot, he chose G. William Miller, chairman of the Federal Reserve, and that opened the spot for Paul A. Volcker, who was nominated on the 25th amid cheers on Wall Street.  At his confirmation hearings on September 7, Volcker revealed the conventional wisdom to the House Budget Committee.  “The Federal Reserve,” he testified, “intends to continue its efforts to restrain the growth of money and credit, growth that in recent monhts has been excessive.”

True to Volcker’s promise, on September 18 the Reserve raised the discount rate from 10.5 to 11 percent; and then, less than three weeks later, from 11 to 12 percent.  An additional reserve requirement of 8 percent was imposed on the banks.  More important, a fateful shift to monetarism was announced.  The Reserve, Volcker said, would be “placing greater emphasis on day-to-day operations of the supply of bank reserves, and less emphasis on confining short-term fluctuations in the Federal funds rate.”  On February 15, 1980, the discount rate was set at 13 percent.

Despite this conventionally approved strategy, prices kept going up.  In January and February, the inflation rate was 1.4 percent a month, or about 17 percent a year.

Again President Carter took action.  On March 14, 1980, using his authority under the Credit Control Act of 1969, he empowered the Federal Reserve Board to impose restraints on consumer credit.  It immediately ordered lenders to hold their total credits to the amount outstanding on that day.  If they exceeded that amount, 15 percent of the increase would have to be deposited in a non-interest bearing account in a Federal Reserve Bank. The banks and credit-card companies, adopting various procedures, hastened to comply.

All that was good standard economics.  If inflation is caused by too much money, the obvious cure is to reduce the amount of money.  President Carter and Chairman Volcker were in complete agreement.

The new policy had an immediate effect that, surprisingly, surprised the president and the Chairman.  Not only did sales slow down, as expected, but profits did, too-as should have been expected.  The automotive industry cried hurt almost at once.  General Motors reported an 87 percent drop in profits, and Ford and Chrysler reported losses.  The housing industry saw trouble coming as well.  It even appeared that consumers were taking seriously their leaders’ pleas to cut down consumption:  Some credit-card companies found their cardholders responding to restrictions by borrowing less than now permitted.

Alarmed by these and other complaints, the Reserve relaxed the new regulations after two and a half weeks, cut the reserve requirements on May 22, lowered the discount rate on May 28, and abolished the credit controls on July 3, whereupon the president rescinded the Board’s authority to act.  It was all over in three and a half months, in plenty of time for the nominating conventions.  Everyone pretended to be pleased with the result, and in fact the inflation rate did fall, but not below the double-digit range.  Still, Carter had shown that he could “kick ass” (his phrase), so he won renomination.  His hope of reelection, though, was dashed.

As Jimmy Carter moved back to Plains, Georgia, he must have wondered why inflation remained high.  The OPEC turbulence had subsided.  Hoarding had largely stopped.  Cutting consumer purchasing power had brought on instant recession.

Conventional theory has taught us to look at the money supply, or the budget deficit, or the trade deficit in seeking an explanation for inflation, since it is supposed to follow when these are high and going up.  Well, M1, the measure of the money supply the Federal Reserve claimed to control, went from 16.8 percent of GNP at the start of Carter’s term down to 15.3 percent at the end.  Carter’s reputation as a spendthrift notwithstanding, the budget deficit, again as a percentage of GNP, was lower in every one of his years than in any one of Ronald Reagan’s.  As for international trade, the deficit on current account was four and a half times greater in Reagan’s first term than it was under Carter, and of course in the second term it pierced the stratosphere- where on a clear day it can still be seen.

Carter’s mistake- and the mistake of the American people-was the common one of simply accepting what someone says he or she is doing.  Everybody, including the Federal Reserve Board itself, believed its contention that it was fighting inflation by encouraging the interest rate to soar.  Meanwhile, in the last two years of Carter’s term the nation’s interest bill went up 51 percent, although the outstanding indebtedness increased only 23 percent.  In addition to the fall in M1 that we’ve noted, the board increased the federal-funds rate 68 percent and the New York discount rate 59 percent.  In 1951 (when the Reserve started its well-publicized wrestle with inflation) it took only 4.59 percent of GNP to pay all domestic nonfinancial interest charges.  The Reserve pushed the rate up, in good years and bad, until it stood at 15.04 percent at the end of Carter’s term. (It’s much higher now [in 1989].)

It is generally recognized that Volcker slowed inflation (he obviously didn’t stop it) by inducing a serious recession, (if not depression) in 1981-83. Putting aside the question of whether causing so much grief was a noble idea, we may ask how pushing the interest rate up caused the recession.  The answer, of course, is that it made goods too expensive for most consumers.  Standard economics, though it pretends the consumer is supreme in the marketplace, perversely believes that consumption is a bad thing.

Goods became unaffordable for two reasons.  On the supply side, interest is a cost of doing business; so the prices businesses charged had to cover all the usual costs, plus the cost of usurious interest.  On the demand side, interest is a cost of living; so the prices consumers could afford were reduced by the interest they had to pay.  Usurious interest pushes prices up and the ability to pay down.

Had the interest rate not risen, wages would probably have risen.  Unemployment would certainly have fallen.  More people could have bought more things.  More producers could have sold more things.  Prices might have gone up until could no longer afford to buy; but if so, that stage would not have been reached so quickly or so inexorably as with usurious interest.  And those who had money to lend would have been worse off, unless they were wise enough to invest their money in productive enterprise or spend it on consumption.

Would instant Utopia have been achieved?  Of course not.  The point is that the conventional policies of Jimmy Carter and Paul Volcker were good for lenders but bad for everyone else

The tests of a “sound” economy that people still chatter about-a stable money supply. A balanced budget, and a favorable trade balance-all were worse under Reagan than under Carter.  Inflation was worse under Carter-and defeated him-because the interest rate was higher.  Professor Burns rightly fears that we will not find leaders able to organize power to handle the usual social and international problems.  I fear that we are even less likely to find leaders capable of understanding and leading us out of the slough of conventional economics.

The New Leader

By George P. Brockway, originally published July 11, 1988

1988-7-11 Taking Stock of the Stock Markets title

1988-7-11 Taking Stock of the Stock Markets Greenspan

IT LOOKS as though they’re going to try putting “circuit breakers” on the securities and futures markets. I’m not sure it will make much difference. The question, after all, is not whether stopping trading for an hour or so after a fall of 250 points would stop or accelerate the plunge. (It might very well do one thing one day and the opposite the next; there are plausible reasons either way.) No, the question is: What is the use of a market that can crash and lose 30 per cent of its value in a single hectic day, and that can routinely lose or gain 2-3 per cent in a couple of hours? What do we have securities markets for anyhow?

The reasons ordinarily advanced are two: (1) to provide financing for productive business and industry, and (2) to encourage people with a little money (or a lot) to participate in the financing. As to the first point, the New York Stock Exchange won’t even bother answering your letter if you ask them how much of their trading is in new securities issued to finance growing business. Probably they don’t know, and certainly they don’t care. As to the second point, today’s lament on Wall Street is that the small individual investor (that is, anyone having less than, say, $10 million to play with) has stayed, as the current metaphor has it, on the sidelines since the 1987 Crash. They’ve stayed out of the game, not for lack of coaches eager to send them in, but because of a prudent aversion to a playing field that sometimes resembles a mud slide.

In short, the pretended justification of the New York Stock Exchange is a sham – and the same goes for all the others, foreign and domestic. They do not in fact provide much financing for new enterprise; they do not in fact significantly facilitate individuals’ participation in such financing; and whatever they do could be easily and far less expensively organized otherwise. If there is no justification for the stock exchanges, there is certainly none for the futures exchanges that are based on them. Federal Reserve Board Chairman Alan Greenspan thinks these things are justified because people use them; the same argument can be made (and I’ve heard of some who have made it) in support of astrology.

Ironically, the exchanges’ own supporters make an air-tight case against them. Look, they say, the Crash didn’t hurt anyone, except for a few foolish widows and orphans. Milton Friedman understands us when he says, “Easy come, easy go.” Six months after the Crash, they say, the markets were about where they had been six months before it. The Great Reagan Recovery is jogging along as if nothing happened: GNP up about the same, inflation about the same, the deficit about the same. Lots of banks may be in trouble, but not because they were involved, directly or indirectly, in the market. A trillion dollars, more or less, disappeared overnight, they say, yet it was only paper profits anyhow. Now that the hysteria has subsided, you can see that the whole uproar didn’t make any real difference.

Since it didn’t make any real difference, they say, there’s no need to do anything. I say that since it didn’t make any difference, there would be no harm in trying to prevent a plunge from happening again, if only to protect the widows and orphans.

The Crash (the biggest ever) had no substantial effect on the producing economy because the damage had already been done. The trillion dollars was really lost and it is a lot of money almost as much as the Reagan increase in the public debt (or, to put it another way, almost as much as the Reagan tax cuts). The enormous loss didn’t matter to the producing economy only because the producing economy never had the use of it. The money went directly from the happy beneficiaries of the Kemp-Roth tax bill into Wall Street and then down the drain.

Of course, some of the tax cuts went into consumption, and some into government investment (bonds to pay for the deficit), and even some into private enterprise. On balance, though, it was the long bull market that started in 1982 that was created by the tax cuts. To be sure, there were other unfortunate things going on simultaneously (mainly former Fed Chairman Paul A. Volcker‘s love affair with double-digit interest rates); but if there had been no tax cuts, there would have been no bull market.

You can see why most people who lost money in the Crash (other than the few widows and orphans) have shrugged it off. What they lost was tax money. So they’re no worse off than they would have been if Ronald Reagan hadn’t been elected; and it sure was fun while it lasted. Yet these people are citizens, too.

They are not merely private atomistic profit maximizers and utility maximizers. As they complain to each other at bars and over bridge tables, they’re weighed down by their share of the public debt. Considering that upwards of 35 million people are living in poverty and that many millions more make so little they pay practically no income taxes, each family of the sort of citizens we’re talking about can actually claim liability for close to $100,000 of the public debt, and perhaps more. Besides, the pundits tell us the debt is to blame for all our troubles.

Thus if Milton Friedman was right when he said, “Easy come, easy go,” he was also right when he said, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” The excitement of the bull market and the titillation of the Crash were not free; they were paid for by doubling the public debt. If our tax system were fair, we might say that, in general, the people who had fun in the market are also the people who assume the debt burden, and therefore, again, the whole roller coaster didn’t make any difference.

Aside from fairness, the trouble with such a conclusion is that those tax dollars, like all dollars, come ultimately from the producing economy. No economy can run on securities alone, because stock certificates are not good to eat or wear; and while they’ve sometimes been used to paper walls, they don’t provide much shelter. Wealth is the result of the work of producing, for which people are paid in the form of wages, salaries, interest, rents or profit. The government, too, is a prolific and necessary producer, mainly of services, for which it is paid in the form of taxes.

The way conventional economics has it, as soon as people get paid for something, they buy something with their pay. The people they buy from do the same, and so on and on. Except for a little friction, this producing and buying and selling goes on steadily, to everyone’s benefit. The economic system is in perpetual motion, and also in perpetual equilibrium. There is really no way for anything to go seriously wrong.

Yes, so long as people are buying and selling goods and services- that is, trading in commodities. But when they are buying and selling claims on capital (in the stock markets), or money or options to buy or sell money or capital (in the futures markets), they are not dealing in commodities; they are speculating in the conditions that make commodities possible.

The money absorbed by the speculating economy is money earned by the producing economy that is no longer available to participate in the production of goods and services. The more money goes into speculating, the less is available for producing. Consequently fewer things are produced, and fewer people have jobs producing them. The conventional economists’ happy cycle of buying and selling is shrunk and bent out of shape and may be fractured. Since the speculating markets not only  fail to assist the producing economy but actually hurt it, you might think it would make sense to go beyond regulating them and shut them down altogether.

IN HIS MOST informative new book, Markets: Who Plays, Who Risks, Who Gains, Who Loses, Martin Mayer shows repeatedly how the exchanges have been able to make a mockery of the relatively innocuous rules we tend to think are in force. The Federal Reserve Board, for example, is said to set the margin rate (that is, the amount you can borrow to buy stock) at 50 per cent. If you ask me, it ought to be zero; but it doesn’t matter, because only the littlest millionaires are affected, and all the really big operators have easy ways to get around it.

Given the radically reactionary interests now ruling the Federal Reserve Board, the Securities and Exchange Commission, and the Commodity Futures Trading Commission, there is no real possibility of rational control of the speculators for years-or until the next crash. So why not consider abolition?

Naturally, there would be a great debate, or at least, a lot of talk. One of the points that would be made is that shutting down the exchanges would simply send them scuttling abroad. (The same threat will be made whenever rational control is proposed.) New York City is sadly aware that even trying to get the exchanges to carry their share of the tax load is immediately smothered by threats to move to the New Jersey meadows. The wonders of the computer age being what they are, it would not be much harder to set the whole thing up on Grand Cayman Island or Singapore.

Beyond the damage to our pride (equivalent to losing the Winter Olympics), would not the flight of the exchanges be accompanied by a flight of capital, and would not that be our ruin? It is said that the flight could not be prevented. Complete prevention would no doubt be impossible, just as perfect income tax collections are impossible; but perfect flight wouldn’t be possible, either. In any case, the fleeing capital would merely be money. It wouldn’t be factories or warehouses of goods for sale or goods in the process of consumption. And since the money that would flee isn’t doing anything in our producing economy, its loss wouldn’t change anything that matters.

There is, however, a much simpler and fairer way to control the markets. As we’ve said here before, speculative binges occur only because some people have more money than they know what to do with. When we had steeply progressive income taxes, there were many fewer such people (as well as many fewer living in poverty). The markets then were too viscous for wheeler dealers but certainly liquid enough for ordinary purposes. We could do worse than learn from our past success.

The New Leader

By George P. Brockway, originally published November 2, 1987

1987-11-2 The Golden Mean Title

1987-11-2 The Golden Mean Wilfredo Pareto











THE CENSUS BUREAU has finally released its estimates of the 1986 median family income, the numbers of people living in poverty, and the distribution of income among the rich, the poor and the middle class. The news is not the figures: They merely confirm the impression everyone has had. Rather, it is the Bureau’s acknowledging for the first time that “there has been an increase in inequality in the United States during the last decade and a half”-or from Richard M. Nixon through Ronald Reagan.

It is by no means easy to know how to go about measuring inequality. Lars Osberg has written a solid 300-page book on the subject, Economic Inequality in the United States, that is a good place to begin if you want to understand the complications. For my part, I share Disraeli‘s view that there are “lies, damned lies, and statistics.” So I’ll take what the Census Bureau says on trust (or distrust) and simply note that its figures assume the rich, the middle and the poor are fixed percentages of the population, instead of classes with definable characteristics to which variable numbers of people belong. On this basis we always have the three groups with us, and in the same proportions.

Putting to one side the probability that if you want to understand how the economy distributes its benefits wealth[1] is a better index than income[2], I suggest that the customary method of presenting the statistics understates the shocking and dysfunctional economic inequality in the United States. It is bad enough that from 1970 to 1986, as the Census Bureau reports it, the richest fifth of American families increased its share of the national income from 43.3 per cent to 46.1 per cent, while the poorest fifth saw its share decline from 4.1 per cent to 3.8 per cent, and the share of the middle three fifths dropped from 52.7 per cent to 50.2 per cent. My guess is that figures for the same years showing how many families had incomes over, say $500,000 (in constant dollars) and under $10,000 would give a better idea of our increasingly polarized income distribution.

That shifts in distribution are occurring at all has a bearing on a long-running debate in economic theory. A typical statement of one side of the debate is Pareto’s Law, promulgated by Vilfredo Pareto in 1896, and not to be confused with his fashionable but fuzzy notion that goes by the clumsy name of Pareto Optimality. In an impressive array of societies, Pareto estimated as best he could, given the practical nonexistence of reliable data, the arithmetical mean of incomes. These means did not come in the center, as they would have if the distribution followed a standard bell curve. Furthermore, the curve on the high side of a mean was radically different from that on the low side, because there was no top limit to possible income, but everyone below a bottom limit died of starvation, reducing the curve to a straight line at that point.

Pareto’s supposed law is frequently misrepresented to assert that no change is possible in income distribution. Actually, he allowed that change did occur on the low side of the mean. It was, after all, obvious that fewer people starved to death in 19th-century Europe than had done so previously. What happened on the low side of the mean didn’t interest him, though. He was fascinated by the consistent pattern he claimed to see on the high side and by the conclusion he drew from it, namely that progress for the lower orders depended on progress for the top. Efforts at redistribution, in his view, were doomed to failure and could only make it worse for everyone.

Unlike more naive knee-jerk conservatives, Pareto did not claim that the same people would invariably be on the high side. He hoped there would be a lot of movement up and down, in the expectation that this would permit Darwinian laws (which he obviously misunderstood) to improve the species.  Nevertheless, his alleged law provides alleged justification for the trickle-down theory of political economy.

Pareto himself recognized, at least in principle, that his law was only empirical. It depended on the facts he so laboriously collected and was inevitably at the mercy of contradictory facts, such as those just released by the Census Bureau. Empirical observations are elevated to the status of laws only if reasoned explanations can be adduced for them. In the present instance, maldistribution of talent or effort has been proposed as the explanation for the maldistribution of economic rewards: If you’re so smart, how come you’re not rich? But the sole evidence for the distribution of talent or effort is the distribution of rewards. The argument chases its tail.

If there is no natural law of income distribution, then human policies can have an impact, and it is no longer rational to argue that prosperity depends on making the rich richer. Indeed, it becomes steadily clearer that a more egalitarian distribution of income would produce greater prosperity. The issue, however, is usually posed in terms of psychological incentives. The economy springs ahead, we are told, because certain people are good at getting things done, and these people need financial incentives.

This has never been good psychology. On the one hand, the real can-do guys, like a Marine lieutenant colonel we have recently heard of, are must-do guys. They get their kicks from doing, not from accumulating, and the problem is to calm them down, not stir them up. On the other hand, you have to use either a carrot or a stick to get most people to do the humdrum jobs and the unpleasant jobs-that is to say, most of the jobs. Carrots are obviously more humane than sticks (I like carrots). Any economy or any company that beats its people with sticks is to that extent inhumane. It demeans itself.

There is also a less pressing reason for a more egalitarian distribution. Keynes wrote a great book to elucidate it. A prosperous economy depends on the society’s propensity to consume, and the propensity to consume depends on the ability to consume, which depends on the ability to pay the bills. “Experience suggests,” Keynes said, “that in existing conditions saving by institutions and through sinking funds is more than adequate, and that measures for the redistribution of incomes in a way likely to raise the propensity to consume may prove positively favorable to the growth of capital.”

THE CENSUS BUREAU figures show that we are going in the opposite direction, and they are ominous from the point of view of our society as well as from that of our economy. “Wealth,” Plato wrote in The Republic, “is the parent of luxury and indolence, and poverty of meanness and viciousness, and both of discontent.” Aristotle saw that “those who have too much of the goods of fortune … are neither willing nor able to submit to authority …. On the other hand, the very poor … are too degraded…. Thus arises a polis, not of freemen, but of masters and slaves.” These observations are obvious enough. Surprisingly, it remained for Rousseau to give the argument a subtle shift: “It is on the middle class alone that the whole force of the laws is exerted; the laws are equally powerless against the treasures of the rich and the penury of the poor.”

In any stable society the middle class is, for all practical purposes, the society. The middle class feels the force of the laws because it has a stake in the laws in things as they are, or at least in the direction things are taking. The upper class feels itself exclusive, the lower class excluded; they are at best indifferent, at worst hostile.

Since super-rich individuals and infra-poor individuals can be law abiding, social class as understood by Rousseau and me is not quite the same as economic class. Yet the two kinds, though they are not congruent, do very much converge; consequently, what the Census Bureau sees happening to what it calls the middle class (the middle 60 per cent of the population) is worth attending to.

The American middle class is slipping economically. Moreover, it is likely that many of the 38.2 million families so classified might more accurately be grouped among the working poor. The average income of those above the middle 60 per cent is $126,415 that of those below is $10,142 (or lower than the official poverty level of $11,203). These figures are a long way from fully disclosing the range of incomes, but they do suggest fertile fields for alienation at both extremes. What can happen here-what is happening here-is not alienation in the sense of allegiance to a foreign power, but alienation in the sense of no allegiance whatever.

To allege that President Reagan has consciously aimed at the erosion of the middle class would be easy, but it would be wrong. The conscious aim has been to make the rich richer on the Paretan theory that the rest of the economy will be dragged upward, too. I hasten to protest that I’m not suggesting the President ever heard of Pareto, let alone read him; it’s just a case of great minds running in the same channel. And not only Reagan’s mind, but Margaret Thatcher‘s and Jacques Chirac‘s and Helmut Kohl‘s, and Yasuhiro Nakasone‘s, and those of most of the leaders of the Third World and of most of the people running the IMF, not to mention every investment banker you ever heard declaiming about the bankruptcy of Social Security.   We are faced with something more than an aberration of American politics.

Even if the Democrats manage to avoid self-destruction, and even if they manage to awake, like Rip Van Winkle, from their 20-years dream of middle-of- the-roadism, they will still have to struggle to protect our society from the conservative crazies of the rest of the world. For regardless of what we do at home, these crazies will continue to enrich their rich, who will continue to want to speculate on our markets, which will again suck up and ultimately destroy whatever surpluses we create.

The New Leader

[1]  the abundance of valuable resources or material possessions

[2] for households and individuals, “income is the sum of all the wages, salaries, profits, interests payments, rents and other forms of earnings received… in a given period of time.”[2]

Originally published July 1, 1985

INTHE PREFACE to their best seller Free to Choose, Milton and Rose Friedman write, “We are still free as a people to choose whether we shall continue speeding down the ‘road to serfdom,’ as Friedrich Hayek entitled his profound and influential book …. ” Since Hayek’s book was published 40 years ago, it would seem that we have been “speeding” down that road at a remarkably sedate pace. I must confess that praise like the Friedmans’ put me off reading The Road to Serfdom until now.

That was a mistake. Hayek is well worth reading, both for what he says and for what he doesn’t say. Looking first at the latter, we find that he is far from advocating the sort of libertarian – that is, practically nonexistent state the Friedmans envisage. The Friedmans share with Marx a longing for the state to wither away, but Hayek is having none of that; he merely wants the state to act responsibly.

He is, for example, willing to consider “restricting the allowed methods of production, so long as these restrictions affect all potential producers equally and are not used as an indirect way of controlling prices and quantities …. ” He also believes that “To prohibit the use of certain poisonous substances or to require special precautions in their use, to limit working hours or to require certain sanitary arrangements, is fully compatible with the preservation of competition.” Hayek would thus not be sympathetic with the notion, advanced by both neoliberals and neoconservatives, that factories should be allowed to pollute as they please, so long as they pay a fee for the privilege.

Nor would he approve of the merger movement and the consequent concentration of power in sprawling conglomerates. He disputes, without naming him, his fellow countryman Joseph A. Schumpeter (who is at present being touted by neoconservatives as a foil to Keynes), rejecting “the myth … that … competition is spontaneously eliminated by technological changes.” In addition, Hayek quotes with favor from the New Deal report of the Temporary National Economic Committee: “‘The superior efficiency of large establishments has not been demonstrated … monopoly is frequently the product of factors other than the lower costs of greater size. It is attained by collusive agreement and promoted by public policies. When these agreements are invalidated and when these policies are reversed, competitive conditions can be restored.'”

In another place Hayek says, “It is only because the control of the means of production is divided among many people acting independently that nobody has complete power over us.” He is against monopoly as well as against the “monster state,” and in his last chapter, he writes (anticipating E.F. Schumacher), “It is no accident that on the whole there was more beauty and decency to be found in the life of the small peoples.”

Though Hayek’s main thesis is objection to a comprehensively planned economy, he recognizes that “the case for the state’s helping to organize a comprehensive system of social insurance is very strong.” He holds, too, that the state should be concerned in “the extremely important problem of combating general fluctuations of economic activity and the recurrent waves of large-scale unemployment which accompany them.” And strong as he is in his insistence on private property, he thinks that the case for inheritance may not be supported with “the same necessity.”

I have quoted Hayek extensively because his reputation is that of an extreme, devil-may-care, laissez-faire conservative. His book was actually greeted with qualified praise by Keynes, as Robert Heilbroner tells us in The Worldly Philosophers; but endorsements like the Friedmans’ have established his reactionary” image.” Much of Hayek’s later work, however (e.g., his attack on John Kenneth Galbraith; see” Rereading Galbraith,” NL, June 13,1983), does exhibit a hardening conservatism.

This is not, I think, an instance of the notorious syndrome whereby flaming youths turn into reactionary elders (“When old age came over them / With all its aches and qualms, / King Solomon wrote the Proverbs / And King David wrote the Psalms”[1]). Rather, it is an instance of a common, albeit little noticed, progression whereby a great leader becomes misled by his followers. The change is not always in a conservative direction. Marx became more violent and conspiratorial at least in part because his most vocal supporters were conspiratorial. John Dewey, whose Human Nature and Conduct showed strong elements of philosophical idealism, became famous for the contrary theory of instrumentalism that appealed to his admirers.

I have also seen such changes occur at less rarefied levels. One of the most delightful books I ever published was Little Britches (I was never good at titles) by Ralph Moody. It was the first of several memoirs of family life. No one reading the series would guess Little Britches was begun as a polemic against the Social Security system. But Ralph’s readers – starting with those in an extension writing course in Berkeley-praised him for the warmth of his characterizations, and he became more interested in people and less in abstract theory.

THERE ARE other interesting themes in The Road to Serfdom.  One of these appears in his analysis of the failure of the Social Democrats to stop Hitler. We have heard much of the trahison[2] of the Communists; but Hayek argues that the socialist emphasis on comprehensive planning predisposed the German electorate in favor of grandiose schemes like Hitler’s. If he is right, this fact should give pause to our Atari Democrats, who want to set up a committee to decide which industries we should foster and which we should abandon and in general to plan how to use our resources. As Robert Lekachman has pointed out, such committees are more likely to be run by big business than by idealistic planners.

The Social Democrats were further weakened, Hayek says, by a split that appeared in the labor movement. For various reasons, certain unions and certain categories of workers were able to achieve remarkable economic gains, while others were left far behind. The laggers were understandably disillusioned about the Social Democrats and became ready to acquiesce in, if not support, the National Socialist program.

“To them,” Hayek writes, “and not without some justification, the more prosperous sections of the labor movement seemed to belong to the exploiting rather than to the exploited class.”

This is a problem that American labor leaders have yet to solve. The split in our labor movement was opened, as I suggested last year (“Voodoo on the Primary Trail,” NL, April 30, 1984) by the Vietnam War. But it has been astutely widened by apologists for big business and by the just- folks demeanor of President Reagan, and deepened by the misguided anti-labor Presidential campaign of Gary Hart.

It is said, by the way, that Hart appealed especially to the so-called Yuppies- young, upwardly mobile professionals. I venture to think that Hayek’s analysis of what happened in Germany is closer to what is happening here. He writes that “no single economic factor has contributed more to help [the Nazis] than the envy of the unsuccessful professional man, the university-trained engineer or lawyer, and of the ‘white-collar proletariat’ in general for the … members of the strongest trade unions whose income was many times theirs.” I suggest that the “white-collar proletariat,” hitherto most visible in countries like India, will become a growing and destabilizing factor in our public life as computerization and conglomeration steadily reduce the need for “middle management.”

Another theme of current interest in Hayek’s book is his concern over the tendency of legislatures to turn hard questions over to independent public authorities. I suppose he would therefore welcome a good deal of the current deregulation, but he would appear not to have been a knee-jerk deregulator. Hayek’s concern is also a central topic in Theodore J. Lowi‘s widely read The End of Liberalism. Both men describe the irresponsibility that results from the delegation of undefined powers. Hayek emphasizes the dictatorial arrogance that ensues; Lowi notes (as does Lekachman in the comment cited above) that ill defined regulatory commissions tend to be co-opted by the industries they regulate. A different example of irresponsible delegation is the willingness of Congress to give the President power to commit military forces to action, and indeed to launch a nuclear strike, without carefully defining limits to that power.

In the same way, control over our money, and hence over our economy as a whole, has been surrendered to the Federal Reserve Board. I regret to have to admit that three Democratic Presidents played crucial roles in the surrender: Woodrow Wilson, who admitted he knew nothing about banking, signed the Federal Reserve Act. Harry Truman allowed his Secretary of the Treasury to dissolve the agreement with the Federal Reserve that had held the prime interest rate down to 1.5 per cent during the War. Jimmy Carter appointed Paul Volcker chairman of the Fed.

How all this came about is told in fascinating and chilling detail by F.W. Maisel in a little book entitled Great American Ripoff (Condido Press, Box27551,San Diego 92128). Maisel may upset the sensitive by his espousal of a conspiracy theory of American banking; nevertheless, it’s hard to fault his facts, and I’m not even prepared to say he’s wrong about the conspiracy.

Should you feel that the bankers running the Federal Reserve, far from being conspirators, are idealistic public servants who have, in Hayek’s phrase, “devoted their lives to a single task,” there is still reason to be wary of them, for “From the saintly and single-minded idealist to the fanatic is often but a step.” Single-minded conservatives please copy.

The New Leader

[1] A poem by James Ball Naylor

[2] French for “betrayal” or “treason.”

Originally published October 29, 1984

NOW, about that deficit: Ronald Reagan was quite correct, during the first Presidential debate, in insisting that there is no connection between the deficit and the interest rate. If he had been more precise, he would have said that there is no invariant connection between the two. Walter Mondale, too, was quite correct in insisting that the deficit presents a threat to the economy, to the nation and to the peace of the world, although again there is no invariant connection.

There are, in fact, few (if any) invariant connections in economics, but it would be lèse majesté[1] to expect Mr. Reagan or Mr. Mondale to understand that, especially since most economists don’t either. There are few (if any) invariant connections in economics, because every economics question has to do with money. As I said in this space last time (” ‘Trust Funds,”’ NL, October 15), without money you have physiology and engineering and so on (all necessary parts of our life), but you don’t have economics (also a part of life, like it or not). And as I said here two and a half years ago (“Let’s Put Indexing on the Index,” NL, April 5, 1982), there is no invariant connection between any good or service and money. The mere fact of inflation is enough to settle that question, even if there were not sound metaphysical considerations (which you may not take so seriously as I do) on the same side.

So we seem to have a dilemma. Reagan and Mondale are both right, and they’re both wrong. At the root of the dilemma is money – well known to be at the bottom of much else. At the root of money is the banking system, and in the United States the Federal Reserve Board is at the root of the banking system. Since neither Reagan nor Mondale dared or cared to mention the Federal Reserve Board, there was an air of irrelevance to their debate.

Before digging to the root of the matter, let’s consider the causes for and the effects of the exponential surge in the deficit. The principal causes are not in dispute: a tremendous increase in military spending, the vast and varied tax cuts of 1981 and the high interest rates. Of these, the military spending had a positive effect on the business recovery, the tax cuts were neutral and the interest rates were negative.

The economic virtue of military spending is that there is no end to it. In a famous example of his irony, Keynes writes: “Ancient Egypt was doubly fortunate … in that it possessed two activities, namely, pyramid building as well as the search for precious metals, the fruits of which, since they could not serve the needs of man by being consumed, did not stale with abundance. The Middle Ages built cathedrals and sang dirges. Two pyramids, two masses for the dead, are twice as good as one, but not so two railways from London to York.”

Military hardware likewise does not “serve the needs of many by being consumed,” so it can be added to forever. And like pyramid building it increases aggregate demand. Demand is what stimulates business activity. Businesses produce things if they foresee a demand for them. Any expenditure is stimulative, yet government expenditure, being both large and highly visible, is especially stimulative. As Keynes suggests, building housing would be as stimulative as building pyramids or armaments. Or as John Ruskin (a better economist than you may have realized) exclaims, “What an absurd idea it seems, put fairly in words, that the wealth of the capitalists of civilized nations should ever come to support literature instead of war!” It would, in short, not be difficult to conjure up better uses for our money, and hence better ways of stimulating the economy; nonetheless, the military build-up-foolishness, highmindedness, viciousness, waste, and all – has in fact been the motive power behind the recent business recovery.

The tax cuts were, as I say, essentially neutral. If you wisely keep a file of THE NEW LEADER, you will find the reasons set forth in the issue of March 8, 1982 (“Why Deficits Matter”). For those who can’t lay their hands on back issues, I’ll summarize the reasons briefly. The tax cuts were, you will remember, intended to stimulate the supply side, on the theory that saving is the cause of investment. The theory is fallacious. Not even Representative Jack Kemp (R.- N. Y.) can imagine that the industrial half of President Eisenhower’s Military – Industrial Complex would build a factory to produce cruise missiles before the military half placed an order.

The supply-side theory turned out to be fallacious in still another way. In accordance with its logic, the 1981 personal income tax favored the rich, and the corporate tax favored the prosperous, the hope being that those who didn’t need the money would save it. This hope was disappointed, and for a simple reason. Since the Federal budget was already in deficit, the tax cuts necessarily increased that deficit. The increased deficit had to be funded; that is, bonds to cover it had to be sold. To whom were they sold? To those who had money to pay for them, of course, and they were, in general, the people who had benefited from the tax cuts. The upshot was that the rich and prosperous were given money to buy government bonds. In effect, they were given the bonds. The maneuver accomplished as extraordinary a transfer of wealth – albeit to the wealthy – as America has seen.

But if this transfer had any effect on the Gross National Product, it was merely a distortion of priorities. The disadvantaged were somewhat less able to buy food and housing, and the fall-off was balanced by a surge in the sale of Cadillacs and Lincolns. Aggregate demand, and hence aggregate production, were not substantially affected one way or the other. (Do you wonder why I’m disrespectful of the GNP?)

The third factor in the deficit, the high interest rates, was of course a drag on the business recovery. Mind-boggling though the fact is, this was intended to be a drag. The idiocy of the intention is not, however, what interests me at the moment. It is the effectiveness of the intention that gets to the root of the matter, for the policies of the Federal Reserve Board are thus demonstrated to be not irrelevant.

Empirically, Reagan was perfectly right. In 1980 the deficit was much lower than today’s, but the interest rate was much higher. How, then, can one claim that the deficit is the cause of high interest rates? But Mondale was perfectly right, too. The present deficit is indeed the cause of the present high interest rates, and these in turn contribute to continuing high unemployment, the strength of the dollar, the decline in exports, and the increasing trade gap.

The reason why the deficit is the cause of high interest rates is very simple: The Federal Reserve Board says it is. On this subject Board Chairman Paul A. Volcker is a cracked record, going around and around, saying the same thing endlessly.

To be sure, it is not literally what the Federal Reserve Board says that is of consequence. Persuasive though he is, Volcker does not run the rates up or down simply by jawboning. His speeches have an impact on the rates only to the extent that they are taken as hints of what the Board will do. It is what the Board does that matters. For the Board controls the rates, partly by setting the rediscount rate, partly by determining margin requirements, and mainly by controlling the money supply. Money earns interest in rough proportion to its scarcity, and for a third of a century now the Federal Reserve has been making money scarcer and scarcer. It has been doing this under the misapprehension that it was thereby containing inflation. It obviously wasn’t. The record is clear here, but that is another story.

WHETHER THE deficit causes the high interest rates directly by scaring Wall Street or indirectly by scaring the Federal Reserve Board, there is no doubt that the high rates increase the deficit. The bonds that were sold to finance the 1981 tax cuts and are now sold to finance the deficit offer a fantastic return -12 to 14 per cent or more. I have some that will pay me 14 per cent yearly until November 15, 2011. I should live so long.

The interest payable on the Federal debt is an incubus of daunting weight that will smother the economy for generations to come. Even now, as Senator Daniel P. Moynihan (D.-N.Y.) has shown, the annual interest payments are approximately equal to the annual deficit, and the compounding of that interest will more than offset any savings that might be made elsewhere in the budget. The compounding, moreover, is not of the ordinary sort. Thirty-year bonds that were sold in 1954, paying an average rate of 2.4 per cent, must be paid off today with money raised by selling bonds paying more than five times the old rate. Look at this another way: If the old rates were still in force, the deficit would be less than one fifth of what it is.

Continuing the observation, we see that the world according to Volcker is upside down. He says it would be fine to have low interest rates, if only the deficit could be reduced to manageable size. But the deficit would have been manageable if the Federal Reserve Board had kept interest rates low. The interest rates have no life of their own, any more than the deficit has. Even on Volcker’s theory, it would appear that high interest rates swelled the deficit, and not the other way around.

As things are, the only way to reduce the deficit-the Federal Reserve Board’s price for lowering the interest rates is to raise taxes. That is what Mondale promised to do. But Reagan (good Keynesian malgré lui[2]) said raising taxes threatens to send the economy into a new depression, because increased taxes mean a reduction in aggregate demand, and a reduction in demand is followed by a depression as surely as an increase in demand is followed by a boom.

This dilemma could have been avoided if the tax cuts had gone to those who would spend them. It could have been avoided if the Treasury and the Federal Reserve Board had cooperated in holding down the interest rates, as they did during World War II. As it happened, both fiscal and monetary policies were fatefully misdirected. If the President does not look good in the history books, the reason may be that he did not have the wit – and we did not give him the power – to beat some sense into the Federal Reserve Board.

The New Leader

[1]  a : a crime (as treason) committed against a sovereign power b : an offense violating the dignity of a ruler as the representative of a sovereign power

[2] despite himself <extraordinary talents, which somehow always crop out to show him at his best malgré lui —Saturday Rev.>

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