Voxeu explains some Eurozone central banking mechanics: http://voxeu.org/index.php?q=node/7391
At the same place, Charles Wyplosz argues for decentralised discipline: http://voxeu.org/index.php?q=node/7387
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Monday, 5 December 2011
Immigration: ordure approaching fan
If the Eurozone does collapse, or if
there is just a second European credit crunch, then Britain will be
relatively insulated. We will still suffer a lot, but less
than the Eurozone itself. However, the EU has a useful mechanism for
sharing the pain: labour migration, guaranteed by freedom of movement
within Europe. Although it is low compared to the US, it has still
been high enough over the past decade to make immigration a big
political issue in Britain. The government has pledged to cut
immigration to the tens of thousands. Good luck with that when
Eurozone unemployment increases above its already high level. There
will be increasing pressure to pull up the drawbridges.
On the Euro crisis
Mainstream opinion seems to be as
follows:
- Creating the Euro was a mistake.
- We should save the Euro at all costs.
“At all costs” means:
- In the short run, the ECB to buy member states' bonds, or to issue Eurobonds.
- In the long run, centralized budgetary discipline in the Eurozone...
- … and perhaps much greater transfers to provide “automatic stabilizers”
On the face of it (1) and (2) do not
sit well together. The argument for combining them is that the
alternative is disastrous: government default, one or more countries
leaving the Euro, bank runs which governments can no longer prevent,
and perhaps a second Great Depression.
Almost anything would be justified to
avoid a really serious depression, because events on that scale do
not just impose economic hardship – they also risk devolving into
political chaos. For instance, I have heard the Great Depression and
the collapse of world trade cited as a cause of World War Two, though
I don't know enough history to evaluate that claim.
On the other hand, the argument is not
completely obvious.
First, it isn't necessary to leave the
Euro in order to default. Greece, for example, is keen to stay in the
Euro. The cost of staying in the Euro is being stuck with an
uncompetitive exchange rate. But countries have survived that. By
defaulting they would at least rid themselves of the debt overhang
that is forcing them to cut, cut, cut government spending in the
midst of a recession. The cost of leaving the Euro is being stuck
with a less credible currency, and probably facing bank runs as a
result.
On the other hand, if countries do
leave the Euro, that may not be disastrous for them. (Or why would
they do it voluntarily?) Britain was forced to float its currency 20
years ago; the Conservative government was humiliated, but the
economic results were actually beneficial, weren't they? There is a
trade-off: chaos at exit versus increased competitiveness with your
own currency afterwards.
At the very least, the economic tail is
wagging the political dog. European government structures are being
created as a panicked response to a crisis. These structures are
likely to be less democratic, more centralized (with Germany being
the centre), and also to set in stone the Eurozone's problems, as
follows:
- There will still be a single currency without the integrated labour markets that would help it to work.
- There will still be the temptation to fiscal indiscipline, which will have to be prevented by centralized control.
Fans of democracy, freedom and
responsible politics should not find this an appealing prospect. It
would also be a national defeat for Britain, because we would be on
the periphery of a large centralized Eurozone with very different
economic interests and values to our own.
If the alternative is really a global
economic collapse then perhaps this is the best choice of a bad
bunch. My personal nightmare is different:
- Europe centralizes;
- Established parties, and elites more generally, face an ever-stronger backlash from their “angry and defrauded young”;
- A new generation of populists enters national governments. They offer fantasy solutions, play fast and loose with deficits, and fail to exercise mutual discipline at European level.
- We have a century of Argentina-style distributive politics, relative decline, and domination by a resurgent Russia.
My instinct is that failed ideas should
be discarded; but if we are going to have the Euro, it seems better
to have fiscal discipline and a hard budget constraint – a core
condition for “market-preserving federalism”. The US has achieved
this, so why can't Europe?
Perhaps I am missing something and
there's an obvious reason that a default means a Euro collapse, and
that Euro breakup must inevitably be an economic catastrophe.
Certainly lots of people think so. However, perhaps some of the
current panic comes from businessmen and bankers who naturally
confuse short-term harm to themselves with the end of civilization.
Saturday, 3 December 2011
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Christina Romer shifts my priors
... a speech on estimating the economic effects of austerity and/or expansion. Her conclusion: there is solid evidence that fiscal stimulus works, and that austerity is painful. Not something I' naturally am inclined to believe, but when the evidence is gathered so carefully, it shifts my priors.
Dodgy science
Alex Tabarrok spanks the BMJ over an article on the brain drain.
The BMJ and Lancet are publishing a lot of social science these days. The slant is usually Left-ish; more importantly, the methodology is often weak. When did social science overtake medical science in analytical rigour?
The BMJ and Lancet are publishing a lot of social science these days. The slant is usually Left-ish; more importantly, the methodology is often weak. When did social science overtake medical science in analytical rigour?
Monday, 21 November 2011
Blame the economists!
It is widely thought that the financial
crisis shows up the flaws of neoclassical economists, who were so
immersed in nerdy mathematical theory that they forgot about the real
world.
However, many economists did predict
aspects of the crisis. Not all were marginal voices, either. Some
were very distinguished figures from the mainstream.
Here is Marty Feldstein in 1997 (ungated link),
arguing that the Euro is an economic liability.
Here are Obstfeld and Rogoff in 2005 (ungated link),
worrying about opaque networks of cross-holdings and counterparty
risk (in the context of the US current account deficit).
Economists probably are not blameless,
and certainly there were naïve optimists – I read a fabulous
article recently, from about 2005, which said [re the strength of the
dollar, but it seems to typify that era] “the markets can be wrong,
but they can't be wrong for a decade”. But as a group,
macroeconomists probably had a clearer and earlier sense of the
dangers than anyone else. The problem is that their knowledge did not
percolate to the wider public.
This seems like a growing problem.
Social science has been getting better and stronger in the past two
decades – we have rigorous techniques for untangling multiple
causes, ever better datasets and now the possibility to integrate
field and laboratory experiments into our theory. But very little of
this knowledge has spread to the world in general. Popular social
science (Freakonomics or The Tipping Point) has been in fashion
recently, but we are still far from the point where people turn to
social scientists for ideas about what is going on. For example,
think of the referendum on the Alternative Vote in the UK this May.
There is a lot of research on how electoral systems shape political
and economic outcomes – not enough to decide definitively either
way, but certainly relevant evidence. This research never got
mentioned in the debate. (There was some very simple stuff, like
simulations of how the 2010 election would have gone, but nothing of
modern research in political economy.)
I am not sure how this could be fixed.
We definitely need more Levitts and Harfords. Perhaps we need more
social scientists blogging.
Monday, 24 October 2011
On the steps of St Paul's
Sitting on the steps of occupied St
Paul's Cathedral. There's a funky brass band playing. Tents
everywhere. Posters from anarchists, communists, loons of various
descriptions. A couple of people in those masks from V. (Terrible,
self-indulgent film.) There's one or two TV cameras, and a lot of
tourists like me milling around.
The mood is unfocused and idealistic.
The closest thing to a set of demands is posted up on the corner of
the information tent. No to cuts, we won't pay for your crisis, the
system is unjust and must be replaced. A lot of references to
19th-century protest. A strong non-violent vibe. Apparently all
decisions are taken by a General Assembly. (By consensus, if you hadn't guessed.)
Yesterday I bought The Big Short.
It's a great story. If you spend a lot of time reading theorists'
explanations of what caused the Global Financial Crisis – the GFC,
as the jargon of my economic policy class would put it – it's good
to compare them with a journalist's description of what actually
happened. The Big Short focuses on the “heroes” of the GFC, if
they deserve that name: the people who figured out early that the
boom in house prices was unsustainable. They took large bets on this.
Normally, in a market, if somebody bets against something, its price
goes down. One of the puzzles in the book is that this doesn't
happen. There seem to be two markets: one in which a small but
growing number of smart people figure out that many US mortgage loans
will not come good, and another official market in which these loans
are expected, right until the end, to pay out. So, where did the
buyers for the second market come from? The book never answers this
very clearly except to say “idiots in Germany”.
A tent where you can meditate or pray.
A notice up asking people not to drink on site, as requested by the
London Fire Brigade. Inevitably, a sign offering FREE HUGS.
I'm sympathetic with these people's anger, and it's nice to see somebody in London doing something other than shopping. I think they need some
coherent analysis. I'll leave them The Big Short for a start.
Friday, 23 September 2011
Rstudio plug
For a few years I've been searching for a GUI for the statistics program R. Now I think we have a winner: Rstudio. It doesn't bother providing menu items for graphs or regressions, instead focusing on a great script editor and command line (features like command line syntax highlighting and multiline entry), plus integrated plot, history, variable and help file display. It's really one of the best programming editors I've seen for any language.
Monday, 19 September 2011
Mobility and democracy
If you graph UK economic performance over 1979-2007 – these look like the natural breaks nowadays – then we do pretty well:
But at the end of this period, there was increasing immigration to the UK, from Eastern Europe as well as from traditional sources like South Asia. This immigration resulted in growing political dissatisfaction, which came firmly on to the agenda in the 2010 election.
The two great areas of democracy in the world today, the US and the EU, are also areas of free mobility. The US was a frontier society until 1890: dissatisfied employees could move West and find a homestead.
Today, it remains a decentralized country – the United States – and the states have been called “laboratories of democracy”. The EU even more so: written into its founding charter are the principles that member states must be democratic, and that labour, like other goods and services, must be free to move between them.
There are many reasons why democracy and mobility might go together. It's no coincidence that dictatorships like North Korea and Cuba are prison states that try to stop their subjects leaving. Mobility might protect you from the tyranny of the majority: political scientists like Carles Boix have argued that democratization is more likely when wealth is mobile, so that the rich no longer fear being expropriated by a poor majority.
On the other hand, mobility brings with it certain problems for systems where good governance depends on the wisdom of the citizenry.
First, intelligent policy-making is always a public good – something that benefits everyone in a community, no matter who pays for it. But freedom of movement makes good governance a public good between communities, as well as within them. Suppose, choosing two countries at random, that Spain is worse governed than France, and therefore a poorer and less pleasant place to live. Without free movement, the citizens of Spain have a strong incentive to do something about that, for example by voting for policies that work better. With freedom of movement, they have a simple alternative: pop across the border. Under the (very idealized) assumption that mobility is free and frictionless, they will continue to do so until “utilities are equalized”: that is, until France and Spain are equally un/pleasant, perhaps because of all the migrants moving into France and using public services.
Of course, that politics is a public good means that self-interested people will never provide enough of it. But existing national communities are organized in ways to get round this problem: they have newspapers which keep people informed and encourage them to participate, national parties to link politicians with an active citizenry, patriotism as a source of willingness to work for the community, and so forth. The political collective action problem within nations is hardly solved, but it is mitigated. That is much less true for the collective action problem between nations.
Another problem for democracies comes from the same source. People are politically ignorant: this is one of the best-established empirical generalizations in political science. It, too, is probably a result of the public good aspect of politics: when you have little influence over something, ignorance is rational. The most reliable knowledge we have about our politicians' performance is not the information we seek out – which is often schematic, sketchy and biased towards our pre-existing beliefs – but what we learn “by accident” in everyday life. If you lose your job, then you can assume the economy is not going very well, and you can (and will) blame the government.
But again, free mobility makes that signal noisier. If your child waits a long time for healthcare, do you blame the government's handling of the NHS? Or do you blame the increased demands placed on the system by more people using it? (Some local authorities have blamed poor performance on immigration in the past.) If free mobility equalizes utility between countries, then good and bad governance are no longer distinguishable.
A final problem with mobility is the issue of fairness between different groups, such as the old and the young. European welfare states are built on intergenerational compacts, and these national compacts vary from country to country. Mobility allows people to arbitrage these differences. Young singles turn up to work in London's vibrant freemarket economy; couples with children can move to take advantage of Holland's education system. These problems are known in America, where there is talk of a “race to the bottom” between states in welfare provision; though at least America has a big-spending federal government to iron out these differences.
None of these arguments make me long for the return of border controls in Europe. But they do show there is some tension between the ideals of democracy and freedom of movement. As long as European countries remain widely divergent in wealth and standards of public services, this tension is likely to stay prominent. Denmark's recent decision to impose border controls even within the Schengen area is one example.
Real GDP per capita 1979-2007 (WDI via Google; log scale) |
But at the end of this period, there was increasing immigration to the UK, from Eastern Europe as well as from traditional sources like South Asia. This immigration resulted in growing political dissatisfaction, which came firmly on to the agenda in the 2010 election.
Population growth rate 1979-2007 (WDI via google) |
The two great areas of democracy in the world today, the US and the EU, are also areas of free mobility. The US was a frontier society until 1890: dissatisfied employees could move West and find a homestead.
Wagons heading West |
Today, it remains a decentralized country – the United States – and the states have been called “laboratories of democracy”. The EU even more so: written into its founding charter are the principles that member states must be democratic, and that labour, like other goods and services, must be free to move between them.
There are many reasons why democracy and mobility might go together. It's no coincidence that dictatorships like North Korea and Cuba are prison states that try to stop their subjects leaving. Mobility might protect you from the tyranny of the majority: political scientists like Carles Boix have argued that democratization is more likely when wealth is mobile, so that the rich no longer fear being expropriated by a poor majority.
On the other hand, mobility brings with it certain problems for systems where good governance depends on the wisdom of the citizenry.
First, intelligent policy-making is always a public good – something that benefits everyone in a community, no matter who pays for it. But freedom of movement makes good governance a public good between communities, as well as within them. Suppose, choosing two countries at random, that Spain is worse governed than France, and therefore a poorer and less pleasant place to live. Without free movement, the citizens of Spain have a strong incentive to do something about that, for example by voting for policies that work better. With freedom of movement, they have a simple alternative: pop across the border. Under the (very idealized) assumption that mobility is free and frictionless, they will continue to do so until “utilities are equalized”: that is, until France and Spain are equally un/pleasant, perhaps because of all the migrants moving into France and using public services.
Of course, that politics is a public good means that self-interested people will never provide enough of it. But existing national communities are organized in ways to get round this problem: they have newspapers which keep people informed and encourage them to participate, national parties to link politicians with an active citizenry, patriotism as a source of willingness to work for the community, and so forth. The political collective action problem within nations is hardly solved, but it is mitigated. That is much less true for the collective action problem between nations.
Another problem for democracies comes from the same source. People are politically ignorant: this is one of the best-established empirical generalizations in political science. It, too, is probably a result of the public good aspect of politics: when you have little influence over something, ignorance is rational. The most reliable knowledge we have about our politicians' performance is not the information we seek out – which is often schematic, sketchy and biased towards our pre-existing beliefs – but what we learn “by accident” in everyday life. If you lose your job, then you can assume the economy is not going very well, and you can (and will) blame the government.
But again, free mobility makes that signal noisier. If your child waits a long time for healthcare, do you blame the government's handling of the NHS? Or do you blame the increased demands placed on the system by more people using it? (Some local authorities have blamed poor performance on immigration in the past.) If free mobility equalizes utility between countries, then good and bad governance are no longer distinguishable.
A final problem with mobility is the issue of fairness between different groups, such as the old and the young. European welfare states are built on intergenerational compacts, and these national compacts vary from country to country. Mobility allows people to arbitrage these differences. Young singles turn up to work in London's vibrant freemarket economy; couples with children can move to take advantage of Holland's education system. These problems are known in America, where there is talk of a “race to the bottom” between states in welfare provision; though at least America has a big-spending federal government to iron out these differences.
None of these arguments make me long for the return of border controls in Europe. But they do show there is some tension between the ideals of democracy and freedom of movement. As long as European countries remain widely divergent in wealth and standards of public services, this tension is likely to stay prominent. Denmark's recent decision to impose border controls even within the Schengen area is one example.
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