Careless, Disingenuous, or Just Ignorant?

Donald Luskin in the Washington Post:

Obama is flat-out wrong when he frets on his campaign Web site that "the personal savings rate is now the lowest it's been since the Great Depression." The latest rate, for the second quarter of 2008, is 2.6 percent -- higher than the 1.9 percent rate that prevailed in the last quarter of Bill Clinton's presidency.

That sounded a little strange to me, so I checked the national accounts. It's quite true that the savings rate is 2.6 percent in the second quarter of 2008, but the average of the last 4 quarters is less than 1 percent, and in most of the recent quarters it has been 0.5% or less -- which certainly qualifies as "the lowest...since the Great Depression."

Have US households suddenly seen the light and started saving again? A slightly closer look at the national accounts shows where that light shined from. The only thing unusual about the second quarter of 2008 was a sudden drop in "personal current taxes," which resulted in an increase in "disposable personal income," the denominator for the savings rate. Ah, yes, that's what had slipped my mind (and perhaps Mr. Luskin's as well) about the 2nd quarter. (If the reason for the drop in taxes isn't immediately apparent, you might want to check the headlines for January 24. But I'm guessing that rebate check didn't come as a surprise.)

Apparently Americans thought it might be better to save some of of the "stimulus" money for, say, the 3rd quarter or the 4th quarter...or even next year? So, yes, the savings rate did go up. That's one of the usual results of a fiscal stimulus. In fact, a fiscal stimulus is exactly how Franklin Roosevelt managed to get the savings rate back into positive territory during....what was it?...oh, yeah, the Great Depression.

Perhaps Mr. Luskin was in a hurry and didn't notice what the savings rate was in other recent quarters. Or perhaps he was deliberately using a true but misleading fact. Or perhaps he just didn't understand why the savings rate had suddenly risen. Based on past experience with Donald Luskin, I tend to go with the last explanation. I have no particular reason to question his diligence or his intellectual honesty, but his understanding of economics often seems weak, even when the points in question are fairly basic.

Apparently Mr. Luskin now hopes to have some political influence:

I'm an adviser to John McCain's campaign, though as far as I know, the senator has never taken one word of my advice.

If John McCain has indeed never taken any of Donald Luskin's advice, that speaks well for the senator's judgment.

Porn and Transportation are Substitutes

OK, I couldn't leave this one alone. Greg Mankiw points to some research showing that "many websites focused on adult or erotic material have experienced an upswing in sales in the recent weeks" since the stimulus checks were mailed out. I can buy the theory that many of their marginal customers are liquidity constrained, which I'm guessing is the way Greg sees it, but there's another issue here that hasn't been addressed. The stimulus checks are only one of a number of things that have happened over the past few months. You might also have noticed, for example, a dramatic increase in the price of gasoline, coming at a time when people were already adjusting to dramatic increases over the past 4 years. I think that particular change is an important part of the picture.

"Adult or erotic material" is a form of entertainment, or, if you will, recreation. But unlike various other forms of entertainment and recreation, it can be consumed at home. And I suspect that a lot of people think it's more fun than most other forms of entertainment and recreation that can be consumed at home. You can go out to a bar or a club or a ball game or a movie or a show or the beach or, well, a brothel, if you're in Nevada, or you can stay home and consume forms of entertainment that can be consumed at home. I can remember seeing a story recently (I don't remember where) about how brothels in Nevada are being hit hard by the economic slowdown. If you stay home, you don't have to use up gasoline, so the relative cost of at-home entertainment goes down when the price of gasoline goes up. Adult Web sites are probably not a Giffen good, so, if we could hold other income constant, we should expect that the demand for adult Web sites should go up when the price of gasoline goes up.

Granted, other income isn't constant. The rising price of gasoline affects a lot of other areas besides entertainment and recreation, so it represents a general decline in real income. And the economy is weak. So maybe the stimulus checks compensate for these declines in income. If the effect of the stimulus checks is to bring income up to the level that it was before the increase in gasoline prices, we should expect an increase in demand for adult Web sites. So the stimulus checks matter, but it isn't just the stimulus checks.

I should give credit where credit is due. The basic substance of this idea about gas prices and porn comes from this YouTube video:



Not coincidentally, the woman in the video (Isobel Wren, whom you may remember from an earlier post on this blog) has her own Web site "focused on adult or erotic material." And in the interest of smoothing the transition to a less energy-intensive economy, or maybe just to be naughty, I'll give you the link again. (Note that it is an adult Web site, so don't click the link unless you're over 18 and your boss isn't watching.)


UPDATE: I just noticed that this video is the same one that I linked to in the earlier post. Oh, well, now you get to watch it in embedded form.

Pigou and the Anthropophagi

Why does the salmon here cost more than the chicken? There ought to be a tax on chicken.

Why?

On chicken and meat and eggs and dairy products.

Why?

Because farm animals are bad for the environment.

How?

They contribute to global warming.

How?

They produce methane, which gets in the atmosphere and adds to the greenhouse effect.

People produce methane, too, you know.

That's why I think there should be a tax on people also. Cannibals need more vegetables in their diet anyhow.

TSLF: Is the government taking a risk?

In one of the latest blogospheric analyses of the Fed’s plans to accept private-label mortgage backed securities as collateral, James Hamilton concludes that the government is taking on a definite risk (specifically, although the Fed is the agent, it is really the Treasury’s risk, since the Fed’s profits are received by the Treasury) but that the risk is not a very large one. I wonder, though, if it’s appropriate to view the risk characteristics of the specific transactions in isolation without considering how they influence the Treasury’s other risks.

Modern portfolio theory teaches us that an asset that looks risky in isolation can actually decrease the risk of a portfolio. For example, if you have a portfolio that consists entirely of government bonds, and you take out some of the bonds and replace them with stocks, you have replaced a safer asset with a riskier one, and yet your portfolio overall is now less risky. In that context it is the correlation (or rather, lack thereof) between asset returns that is the issue, but in the case of the government itself, a more important issue is how transactions in one set of assets affect the value of other assets and liabilities.

In particular, the government’s most important asset, in real economic terms, is the expectation of tax revenues. Tax revenues depend mostly on incomes. In particular, revenues depend not on potential incomes but on actual incomes, so any expected gap between the two reduces the value of the government’s most important asset. The government’s most important liabilities are the securities it issues, most of which are denominated in nominal dollars and most of which do not contain a call provision. A worst case scenario for the government is a Japanese-style deflationary depression, in which the value of the government’s liabilities rises in real terms, while the value of its most important asset is eroded by an ongoing output gap.

Deflation might not have seemed like an issue before Friday’s CPI report, but now the risk cannot be so easily dismissed. Most of the positive inflation in recent months appears to be the result of rapidly rising commodity prices, which are volatile and could easily reverse direction. Meanwhile, the US labor market is weak, and the financial system – what’s left of it – is fragile. If, by taking on certain (relatively small, in the grand scheme of things) financial risks, the government is able to materially reduce the risk of a financial collapse and thereby reduce the risk of a deflationary depression, there is probably a net decline in the government’s total risk.

To put it a little differently, as James Hamilton says, “you don’t get something for nothing,” but, it seems to me, if the something that you get is clearly worth more to you than the something that you gave up, you kind of do get something for nothing. Don’t you?

Tax That Guy Behind the Tree

Megan McArdle is right (here and here), and Henry Farrell and Mark Kleiman are -- perhaps not exactly wrong, but as far as I can tell, they are either misunderstanding what she says or quibbling on minor points of semantics while apparently believing themselves to have a substantive point. The question is, "Do people want their own taxes raised?" My answer comes more from introspection than from logic or economics. Perhaps Henry Farrell and Mark Kleiman want their taxes raised, but I certainly don't want mine raised. However, I am willing to have my taxes raised in exchange for certain things that I do prefer -- in particular, I'm willing to have my taxes raised in exchange for an increase in everyone else's taxes.

I want to make it quite clear that I will oppose any law that tries to raise my taxes by $300 -- unless that law also contains provisions that I support and that are worth $300 to me. Would a provision requiring my compatriots to kick in a total of $6,000,000,000 to the National Science Foundation be sufficient to gain my support for the package? Hell, yes! I would support the package because the provision that I like (a $6,000,000,000 increase in taxes from everyone else, to finance the NSF) far outweighs the provision that I don't like (a $300 increase in my own taxes). That doesn't mean I like paying $300 more in taxes. When I refuse to make an autonomous contribution to support NSF-like research, I am indeed revealing my preference for not paying more taxes. (And by the way, if someone proposes to exempt, say, people who were, as of February 2008, blogging using a vowelless pseudonym, from a new tax, I will support the amendment, because I really would prefer not to pay more taxes.)

It seems to me that much of the popularity of the anti-tax movement that began with Reagan-Kemp-Roth (or did it begin with Kennedy-Johnson?) was based on an appeal to people's genuine preference for lowering their own taxes, combined with a sort of mental cover-up of the implications of taxing other people. Basically, get people to think about the $300 question and ignore the $6,000,000,000 question. On the pro-tax side, it is precisely the failure to acknowledge that people don't want to pay higher taxes that made it difficult to counter the appeal of the anti-taxers. The pro-taxers insistence on philosophical mumbo-jumbo about collective action and such covered up the fact that they had a very strong common-sense case that they were somehow unwilling to press.

There is a valid concern that revenue doesn't quite rise linearly with tax rates and that high taxes can produce certain economic inefficiencies, but to me the basic math has always looked very good for taxes (in a large country like the US): even if the money is spent very inefficiently and not on my own priorities, $6,000,000,000 is a hell of a lot. The government would really have to make an incredibly huge mess of its spending in order for that not to be worth $300 to a reasonable person. (But again, if you could get it for free, that would be even better.)

Marginal Taxes on the Rich

In response to the opening sentence of my last post, Greg Mankiw asks:

Have you ever turned down a money-making opportunity that you would have accepted if it paid twice as much?

I'll outsource the first part of the answer to "a student of economics," who comments on Greg's post via the comments section of my last post:

Greg asks the wrong question in an effort to get the answer he seeks.

The correct question should be, "would you turn down that opportunity if ALL your other money making opportunities also pay twice as much?"

It's not clear that I would do anything different if all my options improved by the same amount. There are only so many hours in day. In fact, perhaps I would actually work less and play more if I were twice as rich (assuming, of course, all gov't services magically continued without cost).

I do recall once having two job offers at comparable pay, and I'm sure that, if the one I rejected had paid twice as much, I would have taken that one instead. But it's pretty obvious that has nothing to do with taxation; it has to with what other opportunities are available. If both jobs had paid twice as much, I would have made the same choice that I did.

Part-time opportunities are a separate issue. I don't have a clear memory on this point, but it's quite possible that I've turned down consulting work that I would have accepted if it paid twice as much (though again, if all opportunities paid twice as much, I'm not sure how the income and substitution effects would sort out). In my case, though, the example (if there is one) would make my second point: that the incentive effects of higher marginal tax rates are not all bad. If I did turn down an assignment, it would be a job in support of one side or the other in a legal case or an interest arbitration. Given the near zero-sum nature of such proceedings, the negative externalities associated with my activities would have been quite high. In this case, the tax is Pigovian, and I'm confident that it's nowhere near high enough to equate the private rewards with the social value of such work. I've made a similar point before.


[UPDATE: Boy, my two sentences introducing a different topic are generating quite a large tangent. PGL at Angry Bear has this to say.]


UPDATE2: In a Update, Greg gets into the whole income and substitution effects business and argues that he is asking the right question because he is isolating the substitution effect, which is what matters for deadweight loss. But for most real-life examples, he's still wrong. It's fairly obvious in my example of having two job offers, but it's true in a lot of more subtle cases too, that one is not really making a substitution between labor and leisure; rather, one is substituting one labor opportunity for another. Usually, one doesn't have a firm offer for the alternative opportunity, but one has some reasonable idea of what opportunity may become available. If a job offer gets doubled, it becomes unrefusable simply because one will never get another offer so big.

It's true that, to the extent that one has marginal opportunities, as in my consulting example, there may be labor-leisure tradeoff, but even there to a large extent it may actually be an intertemporal tradeoff between different labor opportunities given a more-or-less fixed amount of total leisure over time. And I would reiterate my point that the taxes in these marginal cases are often Pigovian.


[UPDATE3: While we're on the topic, let me point back to this post in which I argue that progressive taxation (though not high overall taxation) can actually encourage entrepreneurial activity.]

Marginal Taxes on the Poor

I've always been skeptical of the importance of the purported bad incentive effects of high marginal tax rates on high income earners. (I won't go into the details now, but I don't think the incentive effects are very strong -- at least at tax rates close to current tax rates -- and I don't think they're all bad.) For some time, though, I have been concerned about the effects of effective marginal taxes on low income earners. The problem is not the taxes they pay to the IRS (which they mostly don't, anyhow) but the effective taxes they pay to various subsidizers, price discriminators, and assistance providers in both the public and private sectors.

It has worried me that there might even be some point on the lower part of the income spectrum where the effective tax rate is greater than 100%. That is, you get more income; you no longer qualify for various assistance and subsidies; you slide up the "sliding scale" of various vendors and service providers who (officially or unofficially) give discounts for the financially challenged; you pay more in FICA and state and local taxes (even if you still don't pay Federal income taxes, which you might); and you end up worse off (even leaving aside any reduction in leisure) than when you had less income.

It turns out this was more than a theoretical possibility. Jeff Frankel (hat tip: Greg Mankiw) quotes Jeff Liebman with a story about a woman who "moved from a $25,000 a year job to a $35,000 a year job, and suddenly she couldn’t make ends meet any more." In her case it wasn't until after the (apparently irrevocable) decision that she discovered what a bad deal it was to make more money, so maybe the incentive effect per se wasn't a problem, but even someone like me, dubious as I am about "justice" as a moral concept, has a sense that this woman has been cheated and that what happened is "wrong." And eventually we have to assume that the incentive effects will matter: presumably Abraham Lincoln was right that you can't fool all of the people all of the time. Moreover, the incentive effects will matter even when the effective tax rate is "only" 80% or 90%. And it can only get worse when we begin to attempt universal health care on a national level.

In theory the solution is to consolidate all forms of public (and ideally, private) assistance into a single, fairly large grant, which can then be taxed away via the income tax at a reasonably slow rate for people who don't need it. That obviously isn't going to happen, and I don't have any other solutions to offer, but Jeff Frankel notes in passing that Jeff Liebman is an economic advisor to Barrack Obama. Given that Senator Obama is now the (not quite odds-on, as of this morning) favorite for the next presidency, I'm heartened that at least one of his economic advisors is thinking about the problem.


[UPDATE: My next post deals specifically with the issue raised in the first two sentences about high income earners. I guess it's hopeless, though, for me to get people to break that thread here and post comments on that more relevant entry.]

What is the purpose of a fiscal stimulus?

In the course of thinking about my last post, I have come to a striking realization: the (primary) purpose of a fiscal stimulus is not, as commonly believed, to stimulate aggregate demand and thereby increase economic activity; the purpose is to prevent interest rates from going down.

If the purpose of a fiscal stimulus were to stimulate aggregate demand and thereby increase economic activity, then a fiscal stimulus would almost never be a good idea. Typically, when a fiscal stimulus is proposed, one will hear arguments against it from various economists, typically of the more conservative-leaning variety (as, for example, Andrew Samwick here). These arguments rest on the premise that the conventional reason for a fiscal stimulus is the true reason. They argue (in my opinion) convincingly that that reason is not a good one, and they conclude that a fiscal stimulus is a bad idea. Essentially, anything that fiscal policy can do, monetary policy can do better. And monetary policy will do it, because that’s the job of central bankers. And if you disagree with the central bank about whether we need a stimulus, it will do you no good to try to use fiscal policy unilaterally, because the central bank will act to offset the effect with higher interest rates.

There is one exception – one case where monetary policy (maybe) just doesn’t work: that is the case where the interest rate is zero. In that case, there is no opportunity for the central bank to stimulate the economy by reducing interest rates. And if the central bank tries to stimulate the economy just by increasing bank reserves, this may be ineffective, because banks, having obtained the funds at zero cost, will feel little pressure to make loans; they may simply hold all the extra reserves as free insurance against the prospect of unexpected cash needs. And moreover, their creditworthy customers may not be willing to borrow, even at extremely low interest rates, if they can’t think of anything good to do with the money. This may or may not have happened in Japan; it’s still controversial whether the Bank of Japan’s policy of “quantitative easing” had a major impact. Anyhow, it’s something to worry about.

But in the US, for example, the interest rate has not been zero since 1938. So this one exception does not apply. If you’re worried (like Paul Krugman) that the exception might apply at some point in the not too distant future, then your argument about today is not that the exception does apply, but that we need to take action to avoid the situation in which the exception would apply. In other words, you don’t want interest rates to go too far down. You want a fiscal stimulus to prevent interest rates from going down.

Alternatively, let’s say that you were calling for a fiscal stimulus (or perhaps a larger or better directed one than what we actually got) in 2001 and 2002 and that you had the foresight to see that a monetary stimulus would affect the economy by producing an excessive and ultimately destructive housing boom. If your foresight were that good, you would probably have seen also that the monetary stimulus would succeed in getting the economy going and getting the unemployment rate down. So you couldn’t advocate a fiscal stimulus for that purpose, which would already be served. Rather, you would advocate a fiscal stimulus to avoid an excessive housing boom – by preventing interest rates from going down.

Today it would be hard to argue that a monetary stimulus could spark another excessive housing boom. (It might, I think, spark some kind of a boom, but the boom will be more orderly and rational, given the “once bitten” status of the housing market, as well as the elimination of many of the prospects for creative financing.) But a monetary stimulus could have another bad effect – rising import prices due to sudden drop in the dollar. The way to avoid that effect is to keep US interest rates high enough to attract capital from abroad, which will prop up the dollar. And the way to do that is with fiscal policy – a policy to produce a demand for that capital, so that someone in the US will be willing to pay those interest rates. Again, the purpose of a fiscal stimulus is to prevent interest rates from going down.


[Update: pgl's response at Angry Bear makes me realize that my reference to "another bad effect – rising import prices" was misleading. Rising import prices are a good thing, in my opinion, in that they would help reduce the international imbalance (the large net inflow of goods to the US from Asia), but on balance, only a good thing if the prices rise slowly enough to avoid a dramatic deterioration of the output-inflation tradeoff (i.e. stagflation, or something like it). The argument for using a fiscal stimulus, and therefore having relatively higher interest rates, today is that higher rates would let the dollar fall gradually, thereby avoiding the shock from a sudden deterioration in the terms of trade. It would also avoid a sudden contractionary shock to the rest of the world's economy.]

What is a stimulus

At the request of fellow commenter Robert D. Feinman, I’m expanding a comment from Economist’s View into a full blog post. Apropos of Paul Krugman’s column on the fiscal stimulus plan, Robert posted a comment asking:

What is "savings"? I understanding taking the check over to Walmart.

If I take the check and deposit it in my local bank what then? The bank loans out the money or buys notes from the Treasury (lending to the government). The money is then spent by the recipient. The difference is that in one case I determine how the money is "spent", in the other I delegate the spending to some one else. Why is one a stimulus and the other not?

In a later comment, I answered:

When you deposit the money in the bank, it doesn't actually get loaned out; it gets withdrawn by the Fed. That's an oversimplification, but it's roughly what happens. If you deposit money in the bank, it makes more money available in the banking system, which tends to push down the federal funds rate; but the Fed has a policy of controlling the federal funds rate, so it will act to offset your deposit by selling treasury bills (or, more precisely, probably, by buying fewer treasury bills than it otherwise would).

This raises the question of why we would need a fiscal stimulus in the first place, because if it wanted to, the Fed could just put more money in the banking system (causing the federal funds rate to fall), and there would be more loans and more purchases and we'd get the same stimulus. And the reason has to be something bad about low interest rates, but it's not clear exactly what. Maybe we're worried that low interest rates would weaken the dollar too much and cause an import price shock. Or maybe we're worried that interest rates will go down to zero (as they did in Japan), in which case banks might be unwilling to lend out the money that the Fed creates (since they wouldn't be taking any loss by just holding it, and the risks of lending might be too high).

I could add here that I think both of these considerations are things we should be worrying about right now.

Now that I think about it, though, the reason doesn’t have to be something bad about low interest rates; it could be, for example, the lag in effectiveness: one may imagine that tax rebates will be spent (if they are spent at all) more or less immediately, whereas if the money is in the banking system, it takes time to lend out, and it takes time for the borrowers to spend it.

When I actually say it, that argument doesn't sound very convincing, so I'll go back to "something bad about low interest rates," but I'll note that the "something bad" may also relate to policy lags. For example, if the "something bad" is an excessive housing boom, that also has a delayed economic stimulus effect, so that's a reason that the Fed can't do as big an initial stimulus with monetary policy as the government could do with fiscal policy.

The Pigou Club on YouTube

This video was posted several months ago by Razela (i.r.l. Jamie Bernstein, but not apparently Leonard Bernstein's daughter of the same name) on YouTube, as a response to a video by Bill Richardson asking for ideas about energy.



She also has a blog with embedded videos, but I couldn't find this one on her blog.

The Deficit is Good

I’ve said this before, but perhaps not in such bald terms. You can reasonably complain about the composition of expenditures or the composition of revenues under the fiscal policies of the last 7 years. But if you think the existence of a deficit – I mean a large deficit – has been a bad thing, you are just wrong. Back in 2006, I went into a lot of theoretical reasons why the deficit might be a good thing. But in the light of the housing crisis, it has become clear to me that there is a very simple reason why the deficit really has been a good thing: we have needed a fiscal stimulus this whole time (except maybe for, hmm, say February and March of 2006).

In fact we needed a much larger fiscal stimulus than what we had. Because we only had a relatively small fiscal stimulus, we had to rely on monetary policy to keep the economy going. That’s why we had a housing boom, and that’s why we are having a housing crash. Now I’ll grant you that policies such as better regulation could have reduced the severity of the boom and the subsequent crash. But that would have meant less aggregate demand arising from the housing sector (from the construction industry, mortgage equity withdrawal, etc.). And that would have meant a weaker economy. And as Paul Krugman suggests here, an economy with 63% of the population working was already nothing to write home about.

So…I’m not sure what to think about all the craziness that has been going on in the housing market. I’m not going to condone fraudulent mortgage originations or to say that it was a good thing that the bond rating agencies based their ratings on unreasonable assumptions. But all that was barely enough to keep our heads above water. I’m damn glad we’ve been running “large” budget deficits for the past 7 years. I’m glad Alan Greenspan made a ridiculous argument in 2001 about how terrible it would be to run out of Treasury bonds. It was the wrong argument, but the right conclusion.

I’m not glad about all the people that have died or been maimed in Iraq. Some things are clearly worse than a weak economy and a volatile housing market. But if the Iraq war hadn’t happened, I hope we would have found some other excuse to spend the money.

Note to Congressional Democrats

(This means you, Senators Edwards and Clinton.)

If Congress passes a stimulus package full of new programs and all sorts of bells and whistles and tinsel and lights and stars and angels and golden balls with glitter on them, one that President Bush is almost certain to veto, and one that he, given his ideological preferences, could very easily justify vetoing, and indeed would have a hard time justifying singing signing, then it will be your fault, not his fault, if the recession turns out more severe than expected. I will hold you responsible. I suspect that voters will hold you responsible too.

If, on the other hand, Congress passes a simple if imperfect stimulus program that works on the revenue side -- say an across-the-board one-time tax rebate -- one that President Bush may not be happy with but will have a hard time justifying a veto, then if he does end up vetoing it, that will be his fault -- and all the more reason to elect a Democratic president. And if he signs it, well, I guess you'll just have to take the risk that the stimulus will actually work and that it will make things look a little better on election day than they otherwise would. A non-recessionary economy in 2008 -- seems to me that's a risk worth taking.


[Update: I should proofread these posts better. I don't think we're going to be seeing "Recession -- The Musical" any time soon.]

[Update2: ...and I should check my facts, too. Brock points out in the comments section that John Edwards is no longer in the Senate. Edwards does seem to have his own stimulus plan, though, and I hope he isn't thinking that it can wait until 2009 to be implemented. I guess I should include Senator Obama in my warning, too, but his suggestions have come closer to the sort of thing of which President Bush would have trouble justifying a veto, so I kind of felt he didn't need to be warned.]

Health Care Problems Exaggerated?

I’m a bit confused by Greg Mankiw’s latest blog post on the subject of health care. He seems to be arguing that, aside from redistribution issues and the perception of rising prices, the problem is relatively minor. (“...the magnitude of the problems we face are often exaggerated by those seeking more sweeping reforms...”) I suppose Greg regards the actuarial insolvency of the Medicare system as a problem of smaller magnitude than those alleged by reformers, or perhaps as a purely demographic problem that is only nominally related to the health care issue. But it seems to me, if the government has made a commitment to pay for certain things, the fact that the prices of those things are rising rapidly – regardless of whether quality is rising faster than prices – is a big problem.

I agree with Greg’s contention (in his New York Times piece) that it can be perfectly rational to spend a larger and larger fraction of our income on health care, but that doesn’t change the fact that, under current institutional arrangements, figuring out how to pay for it is a big, big problem. To put my point a little differently, those “pundits of the left” who pretend to be concerned about the health care system but really have a redistribution agenda, they would seem to be holding some pretty good cards right now, given that the government has already promised more free health care than it will be able to deliver under current fiscal arrangements.

When Greg asks the question, “What health reform would you favor if the reform were required to be distribution-neutral?” it is impossible to answer without making an assumption about how the distributions will be worked out under the current system. One possible assumption is that the Medicare problem will be solved by means testing. If so, one objection I have to the current system is that it will distort saving incentives by means-testing away the wealth that people have saved. That is an efficiency problem, not a distribution problem, but it’s hard to think how one might address that problem in a way that is both distribution-neutral and politically feasible. I believe (though Greg may disagree) that taxing rich workers is more efficient than taxing middle-class capitalists, but clearly that change is not distribution-neutral. I also believe (and Greg will probably agree) that taxing middle-class workers is more efficient than taxing middle-class capitalists, but…like that’s gonna happen.

I suspect that Greg is wrong about the motivation of radical health reform advocates. Redistribution, I would argue, is not the reason for health reform but the way to sell it. Somebody’s going to have to pay for Americans’ future health care, and if you say you’ll make the rich pay for it, the non-rich majority will be more willing to listen to the rest of your ideas.

I also suspect that Greg is wrong about why Americans are unhappy with the current system. I personally don’t mind rising prices, but I am unhappy with the current system. What makes me most unhappy (and has ever since I graduated college during a recession and had to apply for individual health insurance because I didn’t have a job yet) is the insecurity of it. Group health insurance (which most Americans get through their own or their spouse’s employer) is expensive but not prohibitively so. Individual health insurance is on average somewhat more expensive, but the problem is not the mean; the problem is the variance. If you don’t have access to group health insurance, there is no guarantee that you can be insured for any price.

There’s a distributional issue that’s important to me, too, but it’s not the rich vs. everyone else distribution that Greg talks about. And it isn’t the poor (in general) vs. everyone else either: the poor already have Medicaid. The category of people that I worry about are those who are poor, or who become poor, specifically because they (or people in their families) are sick. In some cases, it is probably their own fault for passing up health insurance when it was available. In other cases, I imagine, they never had a chance to become insured, or their insurance was cancelled.

No doubt the breadth of both of these problems – the problem of insecurity and the problem of people who are poor because of large health expenses – is exaggerated in my mind, but they make me very uncomfortable with the current system. And I don’t sense that the virtues of the current system (compared to those in other industrialized countries) are sufficient to justify the existence of these problems.

Incentive Effects of Progressive Taxation at the High End

Does progressive (labor) taxation at the high end reduce the incentive to engage in high-value activities? It seems to me that (to the extent that highly lucrative activities really are high value) it actually increases the incentive. Most of the people with the highest compensation -- movie stars, star athletes, CEOs of large corporations, successful hedge fund managers, successful entrepreneurs, etc. -- have that high compensation not just because of decisions to engage in (ostensibly) high-value activities but because of a combination of an intentional occupational choice decision and unpredictable outcome of success in that occupation. The ones who made the same occupational choices but weren't so successful -- ordinary actors, minor league athletes, middle managers of large corporations, hedge fund managers without a lot of assets under management, entrepreneurs with limited or no success, etc. -- don't get that ultra-high compensation.

How could the tax code encourage people to undertake these activities? If people were risk-neutral, the progressivity wouldn't make much difference, since any increase in taxation of the high rewards for being successful would be offset by a decrease in taxation of the lower rewards of being not-so-successful. But economists usually assume that people are risk-averse. If so, progressive taxation encourages people to enter high-risk, high-value occupations, because it provides a form of insurance for people who choose to do so. If you're successful, you make gobs of money, and you have to pay a lot in taxes, but you still end up with gobs of money; if you're not so successful, you don't make so much money, but you get an insurance payment in the form of a reduced tax bill. If the government were explicitly providing an at-cost insurance policy for actors, athletes, business people, hedge fund managers, and so on, I don't think there would be much question that the policy would encourage, rather than discourage, entry into these occupations.

Democratic and Republican Approaches to Social Security

Democrats want to raise the income ceiling to pay in, while Republicans want to means test payments. In other words, Democrats want to tax labor (since social security contributions are determined by labor income), while Republicans want to tax capital (since most of the recipients’ additional income, which would be subject to means testing, is income from capital, either directly or indirectly). So, remind me again: which party is the workers’ party, and which is the capitalists’ party?

More about knzn fiscal policy

Thanks to Mark Thoma for picking up my last post. I think I could fill my blog for a month with daily posts responding to Mark’s comment, the comments on my blog, and the comments on Mark's blog. For today, anyhow, I’m just going to address one issue. As Mark notes:

…there are two separate issues here, one is stabilization policy and for that part of fiscal policy I have no problem with requiring that the budget be balanced over the business cycle. The other is investments in, say, human and physical capital…

I’ll certainly agree there are (at least) two issues, and maybe in the future I will comment on how the two interact. For now, I want to address the first issue.

From a pure stabilization point of view, I don’t think that balancing the budget over the business cycle is a good idea, in part for reasons already discussed in my previous post, and in part because I’m not even sure I believe in the whole concept of a “business cycle” per se. Business, and the macroeconomy, unquestionably has its ups and downs, but so does, for example, the stock market. We don’t normally speak of a “stock market cycle” (although some people do). There are recessions, and there are depressions, and there are inflationary booms, and there are non-inflationary booms. Recessions are limited by definition, but depressions can persist for many years. Inflationary booms are self-limiting, but the jury is still out on non-inflationary booms. Even if recessions and inflationary booms were the only phenomena, they can’t necessarily be expected to alternate: you could have 3 recessions in a row, separated by incomplete recoveries, and followed by 2 inflationary booms in a row, separated by a “soft landing.” The word “cycle” suggests a symmetry which is not, in general, present.

On the purely semantic point, I can accept the use of the word “cycle” for want of a better term, but the argument to balance the budget over the business cycle seems to rest on a substantive presumption of symmetry. It presumes that the stimulus needed during times of economic weakness will be exactly compensated by the excess revenue available during times of economic strength.

You might argue this symmetry must apply in the very long run, because the government has to satisfy an intertemporal budget constraint. Even that point is debatable: in the very long run, the government’s budget constraint applies only if the interest rate is at least as high as the growth rate. Otherwise, if you look out far enough into the future, there will always eventually be enough revenue to pay off any debt the government might accumulate over any finite stretch of time. Some have argued that, empirically, the government typically has faced an interest rate that is less than the growth rate.

But that’s not really my point. I’m cognizant of Keynes’ famous warning about excessive concern with the long run. And a single “business cycle” isn’t much of a long run, anyhow. Conventional business cycle theory might argue for a certain symmetry based on the characteristics of the Phllips curve, under the assumptions that the curve is linear in the short run and vertical in the long run. Under those assumptions, deviations from the NAIRU in one direction are always compensated – let’s say in the medium run – by deviations in the other direction. For the sake of argument I’m willing to accept the vertical long-run Phillips curve, but the linear short-run curve seems to me to be more an econometric convenience than a credible assertion about reality. Back when people believed in static Phillips curves, they used to plot the curves. I’ve seen reproductions of such plots, I can’t remember ever seeing one that looked like a straight line.

Even if (counterfactually) the business cycle is symmetric, it isn’t well-defined, at least not until after the fact. The NBER can’t make the government retroactively balance the budget once it decides what the business cycle dates were. Even if our goal is to balance the budget over one “cycle,” there is no obvious policy that would result in such a balance. The closest we could come is perhaps to require the budget be balanced over, say, 5 calendar years, but that strikes me as a very bad policy: during the first 3 years, we won’t know in advance whether the next 2 are going to be stronger or weaker economically, so we won’t know whether to run a deficit or a surplus. Knowing Congress, I expect the tendency would be to declare the first 3 years a recession and run deficits, which would then require surpluses during the last 2 years and result in an actual recession.

So here’s my alternative proposal: pick a set of interest rates and make fiscal rules contingent on those interest rates. For example, when the 10-year Treasury yield rises above 4%, a deficit ceiling goes into effect; when it rises above 5%, pay-go rules go into effect; when it rises above 6%, a surtax and specific spending restraints go into effect; and so on. We can quibble about the details, and in any case they can be adjusted later if necessary. But this policy makes a lot more sense to me than some attempt to handicap a vague business cycle (or for that matter a vague “trend” in the debt-to-GDP ratio, which can also be hard to identify without benefit of hindsight).

Keynesian Fiscal Policy

A conventional “Keynesian” view of fiscal policy holds that the government should run deficits when the economy is weak and surpluses when the economy is strong. Some commentators suggest (as Andrew Samwick does here; hat tip: Brad DeLong) that the budget should be balanced over the business cycle, with no net accumulation of debt. I consider myself a Keynesian, but I think this conventional view is consistent neither with that of Keynes himself nor with what we have learned in the subsequent years.

My alternative view, which I submit for Lord Keynes’ posthumous approval, is that fiscal policy should depend on nominal interest rates. When interest rates are high, for example, it makes no sense to run deficits no matter how weak the economy is. When interest rates are high, the central bank has the option of stimulating the economy by creating more money and pushing interest rates down. If it isn’t doing so already (which, by assumption, it isn’t; otherwise interest rates wouldn’t be high), either the central bankers aren’t very smart (in which case why should we expect the fiscal authorities to be any smarter?) or else they are deliberately keeping the economy weak for some reason. In the latter case, they can be expected to react to any anticipated fiscal stimulus by tightening monetary policy and raising interest rates even further. Indeed, this is just what the Fed did in response the Kemp-Roth tax cut in 1981. I would have recommended running a surplus instead of a deficit under those conditions, even in the depths of the 1982 recession. A fiscal surplus would have minimized the damage done by the tight money policy, and, my guess is, it would not have slowed the recovery materially, because the weak demand would have brought inflation down more quickly, and consequently the Fed would have loosened more quickly.

Now consider an example where interest rates are low. In this case the central bank has the option of slowing down the economy by tightening the money supply and pushing interest rates up, but it may not have the option of stimulating the economy by creating more money and pushing interest rates down. If interest rates are already low, there isn’t much room to push interest rates down, and the stimulus that can be accomplished by this process may be inadequate. And the business cycle is not very predictable. Therefore, even if the economy appears to be growing adequately today, there is no guarantee that it will be doing so tomorrow. In times of low interest rates, fiscal policy should plan for the possibility of a recession by running a deficit, even if economists don’t see a recession as a strong possibility (which, after all, they seldom do, but somehow recessions happen anyway). As long as the central bank isn’t worried about a recession, it can use monetary policy to prevent the economy from overheating, but if it does begin to foresee weakness, it will have room for a stimulus, since the budget deficit will have prevented interest rates from getting too low.

You might object, “What if interest rates stay low and the government keeps borrowing money? We don’t want to pass on these debts to our children (at least Andrew Samwick doesn’t).” My answer – and I think Keynes would have agreed – is, “So what?” For one thing, if interest rates are low, the cost of running a deficit is low. In fact, it can be argued that there is no cost to running a deficit when the interest rate is lower than the growth rate, because the revenue available to pay back the debt will be greater (relative to what needs to be paid) than the revenue available to avoid a deficit in the first place. My own belief is that marginal return on government investment will be sufficient to justify spending levels under these circumstances, but even if it isn’t, the harm done is not great. The harm done by not running sufficient deficits could be quite substantial. And recalling historical periods when interest rates remained low and the government continued borrowing money – the 1930s-1940s in the US and the 1990s-2000s in Japan – I don’t think they regretted the borrowing, and I think most economists would say they didn’t borrow enough.

Plus, I have a more fundamental objection to the idea that passing on debts to our children is unfair. Those who have read my blog from the beginning will feel a sense of déjà vu here, but: Is it unfair to bequeath your children a house with a mortgage? I don’t think so. And I expect there will always be a “house” to go along with the “mortgage” our government leaves to future generations of Americans. In the past it has almost always been the case (across times and places) that each generation left more net economic wealth to the following generation than it had received from the previous one. And in those rare situations where this wasn’t the case, it wasn’t because the generation in question had borrowed too much. My guess is it will continue to be the case in America’s future. If our generation does fail subsequent generations, it will perhaps be because we didn’t spend enough on finding solutions to global warming (or other problems that may plague future generations); it won’t be because we borrowed money to pay for those solutions.

Channeling James Tobin

Mark Thoma (with support from Frederic Mishkin) holds with those who insist that only money can cause inflation – at least if, by inflation, one means a sustained pattern of increases in the price level. I believe that, as a formal matter, the argument is somewhat circular tautological: the conclusion is based on comparative static models in which money is the only stock variable. Fiscal policy is, almost by definition, a one-shot deal in these models, so it cannot produce a sustained pattern of change in anything.

Consider the standard closed-economy IS-LM model, as I learned it in school:

IS curve:  Y = C(tY) + I(r) + G
LM curve:  M/P = L(r, Y)

where
Y = national output
C = consumption
I = private investment
G = government spending
t = tax rate
r = interest rate
M = money stock
P = price level

Applying the standard assumption of a vertical long-run Phillips curve, we can take the growth rate of Y as exogenous for our purposes. Without loss of generality, let’s assume Y is constant.

Now, we want to ask, can the growth rate of P (otherwise known as the inflation rate) be positive if M is constant? You can see immediately from the LM curve that, if P were rising and M were constant, either r or Y would have to be changing. Otherwise the left-hand side of the equation would be falling, while the right-hand side would be constant. However, we have assumed that Y is constant, and a look at the IS curve shows that, if r is changing, then one of the other flow variables (Y, G, or t) must also be changing. But, again, we have assumed Y is constant, so unless there is a constantly changing fiscal policy (e.g., the tax rate constantly falling or government spending constantly rising), the equations won’t balance. So without money growth, you would really have to do something bizarre to get sustained inflation.

But suppose we introduce a new stock variable, call it “B” for bonds (government bonds, that is). The stock of government bonds grows as the government accumulates deficits (or falls as it accumulates surpluses). Using the “d” operator to indicate a rate of change, we can describe this process as:

dB = G – tY

For completeness, we can add yet another stock variable, the capital stock (“K”). Without loss of generality, I’m going to ignore depreciation and just say:

dK = I

In principle, private investment depends not directly on the government bond interest rate but on the required return on private capital. Let’s call this required return “s” (for “stock market return” as a mnemonic, although you should understand that it is the general required return on private capital, not just for the stock market).

In the standard IS-LM model, it was assumed that s and r were in some fixed relation, but in a world where government competes with the private sector for capital, the relation between the two returns need not be fixed. Government bonds and private capital have different characteristics – different risks, different degrees of liquidity, and so on. Investors may have a preferred proportion of holdings between the two, and when the relative supply of one asset increases, they will require some compensation for changing their proportions. Call the difference in returns between the two assets “e” (for “equity premium”) and recognize that it will depend on the relative outstanding stocks of government bonds and private capital. That gives us the following model:

Y = C(tY) + I(s) + G
M/P = L(r, Y)
dB = G – tY
dK = I(s)
s = r + e(B, K)

We now have a wedge between money growth and inflation. As the government runs a constant (sufficiently large) deficit, B increases relative to K. Therefore e(B, K) increases, and s falls relative to r. In order for Y to remain constant in the IS curve, s has to be constant in absolute terms, so this means r has to rise. In the LM curve, as r rises, with Y and M constant, P has to rise. Fiscal policy does cause sustained inflation.

Deficit Reduction and the 1990s Boom

I was an enthusiastic supporter of Bill Clinton’s 1993 deficit reduction program. I’m on record saying at the time that the Republicans were doing Clinton a favor by filibustering his stimulus bill. I believe I was right to support deficit reduction. I believe that it was important, that it had results, and that the results were better than I had expected. But was the deficit reduction program responsible for the 1990s economic boom? The short answer is no.

At least that’s the easy answer if you use standard economic theory, and for the most part, I think it’s the right answer. Throughout most of the Clinton era, the US economy was close to what the Fed believed was full employment. The Fed provided enough monetary stimulus to approach what it believed to be full employment. In the absence of deficit reduction, that stimulus would have been provided by the deficit. Or perhaps not – if the deficit had a psychological effect that was depressing the economy. In that case the Fed would have provided roughly the same stimulus that it actually did provide – to offset the depressing psychological effect of the deficit. (Remember, the Fed was already starting to push easy money long before Clinton was even elected.)

There’s no obvious reason to think that the US would have been farther from full employment if the deficit reduction bill had not passed. The reason for the boom was that full employment turned out, by the end of the decade, to be much higher and much more productive than almost anyone originally thought. Deficit reduction was – for the short run, anyhow – a demand-side policy, but the boom had little to do with demand and everything to do with supply.

Deficit reduction almost certainly did have beneficial supply-side effects, but you’ll have a hard time convincing me those effects were large enough to account for a large part of the boom. Deficit reduction was partly – perhaps largely – responsible for the boom in private investment. Without deficit reduction – that is, with lower taxes and more government spending – consumers and government would have required more of the nation’s resources, which would have left less for private investment. Any incipient investment boom would have been resisted aggressively by the Fed to avoid straining the nation’s resources.

The US would also have drawn in more resources from abroad (a larger trade deficit), so the effect of deficit reduction on private investment was far from one-for-one, but because of home bias, imperfect asset substitutability, and the large size of the US economy, a large part of the resources freed by deficit reduction must have flowed through to private investment. More private investment means a larger capital stock, which means more production from a given amount of labor, which means that some part of the boom was indeed attributable to deficit reduction. But the beneficial supply-side effect of capital deepening is a long-term phenomenon. It’s just not reasonable to expect that the effect in the first few years would be large enough to account for a large part of the boom the US experienced.

Another possible beneficial supply-side effect of deficit reduction was on price-setting. With the apparently unsustainable fiscal policy in place before deficit reduction, there was reason to fear that the Fed would eventually be forced to monetize the debt. Accordingly, there was reason to distrust the value of the dollar and reason to raise prices in anticipation of a possible eventual inflation. The Fed had to fight the tendency to raise prices, and in the process, it may have had to limit economic growth more than would otherwise have been necessary. With deficit reduction, this problem disappeared and the Fed was able to support more growth. At least, that’s a story you can tell. I can believe it was a factor, but I have a hard time believing it was responsible for a large part of the boom.

And OK, maybe you can make up some other story about how deficit reduction caused the boom, but you’re not likely to convince me. The US would have had a boom – probably a big one – even without deficit reduction. But it would not have been the same boom. In all probability, it would have been largely a boom in consumption rather than investment. That follows directly from the fact that taxes would have been lower (provided one accepts the premise that consumption rises with disposable income). And it would have been financed – to a much greater degree than it actually was – from abroad. By the end of the decade, the capital stock would have been significantly smaller than what it actually was, and the US foreign debt would have been much higher.

Which, I suppose, would not have been so terrible in 2000. But then George W. Bush got elected. After 6 more years of easy fiscal policy – new tax cuts, increased military spending, and expanded Medicare benefits – leading to more monetary tightening, which would strangle private investment and run up even larger international debt: when I think what condition the US would be in today, I’m really glad we had deep capital and a manageable foreign debt in 2000. If I had to choose between the deficit reduction program of 1993 and the economic boom of the late 1990s, I’m not sure which I would pick. Luckily, we got both.

What is Inflation? (part 2)

Last August I argued (echoing a piece by Arthur Laffer) that recent US experience does not fit the etymological definition of the word “inflation” because nothing is really inflating. For example, the Fed is not “blowing up the balloon” by creating a lot of new money, so as to reduce the value of old money. (Laffer’s piece showed a chart of the sweep-adjusted monetary base – one measure of the Fed’s money creation – which at the time was clearly flattening out rather than accelerating.)

Recently I have been confronted with the need to deal with the subtleties in this etymological definition. In discussing the Romers’ recent paper on taxes in the comments section of Econbrowser, I asserted that “Romer & Romer also find that tax cuts increase inflation.” I was beset by (apparent) monetarists who suggested that I was “confusing price increases with inflation” and implied that inflation could not be produced merely by tax cuts because tax cuts don’t involve an increase in the money supply.

My response, in essence, was that, when tax cuts are funded by borrowing, they “inflate” the supply of dollar-denominated assets – in the form of bonds rather than money. I argued that, with more dollar-denominated assets around, the value of the dollar declines relative to goods and services, and that this process should be called “inflation.” They argued that bonds don’t inflate today’s dollar because they represent future dollars rather than current dollars. I argued that bonds are in some ways a substitute for money and therefore reduce the value of money just as an increase in nuclear power production would reduce the value of coal. If you pump up the economy by creating money substitutes, that’s just as much “inflation” as if you were to do so by creating money directly.

How do we know that bonds and money are substitutes? Because raising the price of one increases demand for the other. Raising the price of bonds (which is to say, lowering the interest rate) causes people to increase their demand for money. I gave a practical example of how they could be substitutes: checkable bond mutual funds. The availability of bonds enables me to hold my assets in the form of a checkable bond mutual fund, which I can use very much as I would use “money” in the form of bank deposits.

The ultimate issue here is money supply vs. money demand. Increases in the general price level are clearly to be considered inflation if they result from increases in the supply of money. But what if they result from decreases in the demand for money? That’s what happens when the government issues bonds, and that’s presumably the main reason that the Romers find tax cuts to be associated with inflation.

It seems to me that the definition of inflation becomes quite flimsy if you don’t allow it to take into account the demand side of the money market. In principle, the general price level can rise without bound just because of declines in the demand for money. When I was in graduate school, one occasionally heard the phrase “self-generating hyperinflation” when discussing monetary theory. Such a hyperinflation did not necessarily require any increase in the supply of money. It resulted from a loss of confidence in the value of the existing money supply. (After all, money has no fundamental value; it’s value depends entirely on individuals’ confidence that other individuals will consider it valuable.) In the event of such a self-generating hyperinflation, it would be little comfort to hear someone say, “Don’t worry; there has been no increase in the money supply; this is not inflation; it is merely price increases.”

One might still argue that the term “inflation” can’t apply unless something is “inflating.” In the case of a “self-generating hyperinflation,” the increase in the price level results from the spontaneous functioning of the market; there is nobody metaphorically “blowing up the balloon.” In the case of a budget deficit, however, there is somebody blowing up the balloon: the government is blowing bonds into the balloon, and even though their effect is arguably indirect, these bonds have the same effect (not dollar-for-dollar but in general) as blowing money into the balloon. Perhaps one could define inflation as “a rise in the general price level produced by a change in the supply of and/or demand for money induced by public policy or other factors exogenous to the money market.” (It should certainly include, for example, the effect that a new gold discovery would have on an economy that uses gold as money – or the effect of a new silver discovery on an economy that uses both gold and silver for exchange but measures prices in terms of gold.)