The fatal inconsistency within neoliberalism

The collapse of Carillion had some important implications for public sector outsourcing, as I discussed here, but I tend to agree with Will Hutton that the real lessons lie elsewhere. He writes

“While some public sector delivery is outstanding, notably in parts of the NHS, the general pattern is more patchy. It is for this reason that governments for decades have been contracting the private sector to deliver goods and services. Trying to extend that principle is not unreasonable if high-quality private sector partners step up to the mark: the problem is they are in such short supply.”

In other words the problem is not so much with outsourcing, if sensibly done by a government that does not automatically think private is best and a civil services able to write good contracts and effectively monitor quality. The problem is with the poor quality of so much British capitalism. Carillion is not just one bad apple, of course: this is a lesson that should have been learned from the financial crisis, and RBS in particular,

But how can that be, when the market ensures that only the most efficient firms survive? That idea, that the market ensures that only the most efficient prosper, is a central message of neoliberal ideology, and it has held UK and US governments under its sway since the time of Thatcher and Reagan. But that ideology contains a large and deep internal contradiction, which applies particularly to large firms like Carillion. To see what that contraction is, we need to talk about ordoliberalism and Ronald Coase.

Ordoliberalism is widely known as the German version of neoliberalism. It too celebrates the benefits of the market. It, like neoliberalism, ignores many of the failures of markets that Colin Crouch eloquently outlines and which economists spend a lot of time studying. But ordoliberalism does recognise one potential problem with their market ideal which neoliberalism ignores, and that is monopoly. Crouch makes a similar distinction in talking about market-neoliberals and corporate-neoliberals.

This distinction is important for reasons that go way beyond the textbook problem with monopoly: that prices are too high and output is too low. To see why it goes beyond that we need to turn to Ronald Coase. He was a British economist who subsequently worked at Chicago. His first major article was "The Nature of the Firm" written in 1937 which introduced the concept of transaction costs to explain the nature and limits of firms. The key point that Coase made relevant for our discussion is that, in theory, much of what firms do could instead be done by markets. For a non-economist this probably sounds strange, so I will briefly try and explain the idea.

In principle the activities of any firm could be duplicated by all its employees, including managers, becoming self employed. The worker who worked for a firm would become a self employed person who signed a contract with the self-employed manager. Furthermore, the self employed manager would not have to work with a fixed set of self employed workers, but for each task they could create a market for the task which any self employed person could bid to fulfil.

Coase asked why we have firms rather than this more market based setup. His answer is transactions costs. A typical worker employed in a firm has to do whatever (within reason) a manager asks them to do. This can vary, often at very short notice, depending on the needs of the firm. Replacing this with a large number of specific short term contracts would be very inefficient, because it takes time to write and read contracts (transactions costs). You could add search costs and many other costs that make the self employed contracting model normally inefficient.

You can see exactly these tensions, between the advantage of the market versus internalising activities within a firm, played out when a firm decides to outsource any of its activities. But these tensions have a darker side. To what extent have firms internalised the market so that they can exploit customers (traditional monopoly), exploit workers (if one large firm is the only potential employer for many workers i.e. monopsony), or as a vehicle for managers to exploit shareholders.

There are two paths you can travel once you recognise all this. The first, and more ordoliberal, is to distrust monopoly of any kind, and be highly skeptical of large firms and their creation through mergers. The second is to assume that firms are always right, and that large firms exist simply because they are more efficient at doing what they do than the same firm broken up. Given the darker side mentioned above, there is no logical reason to take the second path. Skepticism about large firms is the right path to take. The second path, where you presume that there are always good reasons why large firms exist, makes no logical sense, unless your goal is for whatever reason to defend these large firms. It is the path that neoliberalism took.

Will Davies has a fascinating paper of how ideas about the virtues of competition, and the need to break up monopolies, changed within the University of Chicago from the 1930s until the 1980s under the influence, among others, of the work of Ronald Coase. It shows how many of the leading actors during that period chose the second path. Economics is rich enough that, if they so wish, an economist can always invent reasons why monopolies might be efficient, and so earn lucrative fees for so doing.

Thus neoliberalism that might have started as extolling the virtues of the market ends up as “a consultancy racket, in which corporations purchase complex models to justify their chosen strategy”, to quote Will Davies more recently. This is what I meant when I wrote back in 2016.

“It is important that those who use the term neoliberalism today recognise this contradiction. It does not mean that using the term neoliberalism to describe the dominant ideology is wrong, but it is a mistake to assume the ideology has not be moulded/adapted/distorted by those in whose interest it works. These changes have made it intellectually weak at the same time as making it politically strong.”

There are important mistakes that those opposing neoliberalism can make if they do not see this point. They involve opposing anything your opponent appears to favour. Thus, for example, because neoliberals preach the virtues of the market but in practice are normally simply pro-business, this does not mean that you should always oppose markets: you can be pro-market and anti-neoliberal. More generally, just because neoliberals can use ideas from economics to argue their case does not mean there is something wrong with economics (as opposed to some economists). Louis Zingales, from Chicago, exemplifies both points, and is not afraid to make the distinction between pro-market and pro-business in public.

This is all related to the distinction between ideas and interests. While it is right to recognise that interests are to some extent based on ideas, it is also important to see that ideas can change in time to reflect interests. How an ideology based on seeing markets through rose colored spectacles turned into an ideology justifying crony capitalism is at least part of the story of neoliberalism. These compromises with power allowed the ideology to become dominant, but at the same time it also made it rather easy for it to be subverted by different kinds of plutocracies, such as those represented by Brexit and Trump.

How Neoliberals weaponise the concept of an ideal market

This new book by Colin Crouch will perplex many on the left who simply believe neoliberalism has to be overthrown. Indeed the author starts his book by talking about the Grenfell Tower disaster, which he along with many others believe epitomises the failings of neoliberalism. Yet he writes that the book

“is not a contribution to the demonology of neoliberalism, but an attempt at a nuanced account. Only in that way can we assess its capacity for reform.”

Such an account can of course also be justified on the basis of intellectual curiosity, but in addition the author sees some positive aspects of the ideology: He summarises these as

“the discipline of price and calculation [recognising efficiency and opportunity cost}; helping us appreciate the limitations of democratic government; facilitating trade and reducing barriers to it; and facilitating links among people [reducing national divisions].”

So what exactly is neoliberalism? He defines it as

“a political strategy that seeks to make as much of our lives as possible conform to the economist’s ideal of a free market”

The problems and deficiencies of this strategy come when the conditions required for the free market to be ideal do not hold, and the author’s long discussion of these problems would be useful for any economics undergraduate.

One of these conditions for an ideal market is competition: a free market is an ideal from a social point of view if (alongside many other conditions) each good is produced by a very large number of producers. The author recognises, for obvious reasons, that most neoliberals (as opposed, perhaps, to ordoliberals) tend not to go around wanting to break up monopolies and reduce monopoly power. As a result, he distinguishes between market-neoliberals who might, and corporate-neoliberals who would not. He talks about past competition (that may have resulted in monopoly) and current competition. As Luigi Zingales describes it rather well here, business tends to be in favour of a competitive market before it enters it, but once it has a dominant position in that market it is happy to put up barriers to further competition.

The author goes on to discuss conflicts between corporate and market neoliberalism, and much else besides. I think it is a great book, free from unnecessary jargon that you often find elsewhere. It got me thinking about the concept of neoliberalism again as you can see below. Whether that is a good thing or not, I would encourage you to read the book. The author also of course discusses whether he thinks neoliberalism can save itself. For his answer to that question you will have to read the book.

Now, for what it is worth, are some of the thoughts the book inspired. They go back to the distinction between market-neoliberals and corporate-neoliberals. It seems a little odd to define an ideology as the evangelisation of the free market, and then go on to say most neoliberals happen to exclude a crucial component of that free market (competition) when it suits them. I am quite prepared to believe that some of the people who first wrote about neoliberalism many years ago (and perhaps one or two today) could be described as what the author calls market-neoliberals, but as I have suggested in the past I think neoliberalism has evolved (or if you like been distorted) by ‘big money’ or capital to become a tool for self justification.

As a result, I would tend to suggest a slightly different definition that seems to work quite well today. The definition would be: 

neoliberalism is a political strategy promoting the interests of big money that utilises the economist’s ideal of a free market to promote and extend market activity and remove all ‘interference’ in the market that conflicts with these interests.

This replaces a definition based on following an idea (the author’s market neoliberalism), by one of interests promoting an idea so long as it suits those interests.

This alternative definition seems to fit two cases I have used in the past to question more conventional ideas. Large banks benefit hugely from an implicit subsidy provided by the state (being bailed out when things go wrong), but neoliberals do not worry too much about this form of state interference in the market (whereas economists do). Regulations on the other hand they do complain about. It is a very selective focus on market interference.

The second is executive pay. This is always justified by neoliberals as being something determined by the free market, when obviously it is not. Yet if you pretend that there is a market in executives and salaries etc are set by that market and not the remuneration committees of firms, then you are being a good neoliberal by defending these salaries. This example is interesting because it involves defending one part of ‘big money’ (CEOs or some workers in finance) at the expense of another (shareholders). It is why I do not talk about the interests of capital in my definition. 

Is this alternative definition simply negating the power of ideas and going back to good old interests? Only in part. Interests utilise an idea because the idea is a powerful persuasive tool. There is an obvious lesson for the left here. Because neoliberals promote the concept of an ideal market only when it suits them, so opposing neoliberalism does not necessarily mean opposing the concept of an ideal market. The left should utiliise the same concept to oppose monopoly power, for example. The idea of a free market is too powerful an idea to cede to the other side. 

Neoliberalism

The term ‘neoliberalism’ has become so ubiquitous that some might think that it has lost all meaning, beyond a useful catch-all for everything some people on the left dislike about current social and economic trends, or more specifically for those on the left to be rude about those on the centre-left. That is in my view far too dismissive, but the reasons for both the use of the term and confusion over its meaning have real historic and cultural roots.

I know what I mean when I (occasionally) use the term neoliberal. Neoliberalism is a political movement or ideology that hates ‘big’ government, dislikes any form of market interference by the state, favours business interests and opposes organised labour. The obvious response to this is why ‘neo’. In the European tradition we could perhaps define that collection as being the beliefs of a (market) liberal (although that would be misleading for reasons I give below). The main problem here is that in US discourse in particular the word ‘liberal’ has a very different meaning. As Corey Robin writes, neoliberals

would recoil in horror at the policies and programs of mid-century liberals like Walter Reuther or John Kenneth Galbraith or even Arthur Schlesinger, who claimed that “class conflict is essential if freedom is to be preserved, because it is the only barrier against class domination.”

So in this US line of thought, neoliberalism is an adaptation of a position on the left towards the ideas of the right.

Contrary to some perceptions, the term neoliberal was not a US invention, but was first used by Rüstow, as this excellent account by Hartwich and Sally sets out. It was designed to be a ‘third way’ between socialism and a German version of capitalism. It was adopted by a group that later became the Mont Pèlerin Society, which included Mises and Hayek and Milton Friedman, but it would be a great error to view that group as some kind of united intellectual conspiracy. As Hartwich and Sally remark, it is “named after the location as the participants could not agree on anything else”. The group was sufficiently diverse that the idea of what we now call a social market economy can also trace some of its roots to this group.

One of the disagreements in the group was over the problem of what we might call ‘corporatism’: the domination of markets by a small number of large firms or cartels that is a long way from the ideal of a perfectly competitive market. Rüstow saw that as a problem that was inherent to capitalism and required a strong state to prevent it (an idea that is central of what we now call ordoliberalism), whereas Mises thought corporatism is the result of state intervention. (Economists would just say that both are potentially true and it all depends, which is one reason why many economists find it hard to talk about ideologies that involve their own discipline.)

From this group we have the term neoliberal being adopted as a modification of European liberalism and (for some at least) it involved a move from the right to the left. I think the clearest way of thinking about the Mont Pèlerin group is that it was a group that had in common a dislike of communism, but out of which different ideologies emerged, including ordoliberalism and neoliberalism as we understand these terms today. I am tempted to argue that what we now call the neoliberal element of the Mont Pèlerin discussions placed such an emphasis on their dislike of the state that they were prepared to ignore the market imperfections that a state could correct.

I think this alone would be a good reason for the use of the term neoliberal rather than, say, market liberal. Neoliberalism as most people use the term seems quite relaxed about departures from the ideal of a market as seen by economists. A clear example, as Chris Dillow points out, is CEO pay. When people argue that CEO pay ‘should be left to the market’ they mean something very different from ‘be determined by the market’. The role of any market in determining CEO pay is marginal compared to most ordinary workers: pay is set by remuneration committees who reference to the pay of other CEOs.[1] What ‘left to the market’ actually means here is ‘no state or union interference’.

Yet this example also tells us that dismissing neoliberalism as a non-existent ideology is wrong. How often have you heard people arguing that CEO pay should be left to the market, and this assertion has gone unchallenged? This common acceptance of ‘left to the market’ really meaning ‘no state or union interference’ suggests something like an ideology at work. Other commonly used language, like taxpayers money (by which is normally meant income taxpayers) rather than public money, or wealth creators for the 1%, does the same.

Attitudes to the state, both on the right and centre of politics, are very different to those I (distantly!) remember from the 1960s. The ability of the state to achieve economic goals is today routinely denigrated. Part of the reason for the success of Mazzucato’s The Entrepreneurial State (apart from it being a very good book) is that it points out how creative and wealth creating the state can be. What would have seemed obvious in the days when we put a man on the moon today needs to be argued case by case.

This is why I do not think it is a problem that few today would describe themselves as neoliberal. Indeed that may be part of the greater problem as perceived on the left: neoliberal ideas have become so commonplace, not just on the right but also the centre of politics, that no self-identification by label is required. But there may be another reason why few call themselves neoliberal, and that is because if we try and regard it as a coherent and consistent set of beliefs it can very quickly be shown to be inadequate and confused. Commonly held beliefs do not have to be coherent and consistent.

This is where many accounts on the left go wrong. Rather than seeing ‘left to the market’ as a deliberately misleading shorthand for no state or union interference, they think neoliberalism involves a devotion to free markets, or worse still (see this piece by George Monbiot for example) they equate neoliberalism with unbridled competition. While that might have been true for some of those at Mont Pèlerin, it is no longer true of neoliberalism today.

The reason is obvious enough. Neoliberalism has been adopted and promoted by monied interests on the right, and that money often resulted from what we might call today crony capitalism. So, for example, there is a big difference between promoting competition within the NHS (which some research suggests works if done in the right context, such as fixed prices), and the privatisation of health contracts. Privatisation is neither necessary nor sufficient for competition. To describe the promotion of competition within the NHS as neoliberalism is confusing and alienating.

More generally, it is a huge error to think that because neoliberalism invokes a highly selective and distorted view of basic economics, the left must therefore oppose mainstream economics. It is a huge error because using mainstream economics is an excellent way of challenging neoliberal ideas. Take the example of banking. At first sight the financial crisis was simply a failure to regulate a free market. But it was a market which included what is to all intents and purposes a huge state subsidy, which is that if the market goes wrong the state (either directly or through its central bank) will come to the rescue. Here state interference in the market encourages lack of competition: only those too big to fail could be sure of support.

For this and other reasons (natural monopolies and other forms of rent seeking), the financial sector embodies many of the things that those who first used the term neoliberalism were opposed to. It is important that those who use the term neoliberalism today recognise this contradiction. It does not mean that using the term neoliberalism to describe the dominant ideology is wrong, but it is a mistake to assume the ideology has not be moulded/adapted/distorted by those in whose interest it works. These changes have made it intellectually weak at the same time as making it politically strong.

[1] This is very similar to how pay was determined under UK ‘incomes policies’ in the 1960s and 1970s. Here the state would set up a committee that would fix the pay of some group of workers with reference to the pay of comparable occupations. At least in that case, however, some of the reference occupations may have had pay that was actually market determined!

German Self-Interest

Michael Burda from Berlin’s Humboldt University has an interesting article in the Royal Economic Society newsletter, which is critical of views that I and others have expressed about the ‘problem with German (macro)economics.’ The key argument Michael Burda wants to make is that there is nothing peculiar or unusual about German economics, and what many of the critics interpret as either economic ignorance or distinctiveness is actually self-interest. To quote from his final paragraph: “It is not ordoliberal religion, but a mixture of national self-interest and healthy mistrust informed by experience that guides German economic policy today.”

Often trying to decide whether policies are the result of self-interest or particular ideas is difficult because both explanations fit the facts. What we really need are examples of German economic policy which follow self-interest but not dominant ideas, or vice versa. Now some might suggest ‘bailing out’ Greece and other periphery countries was a clear example, where the idea of European solidarity triumphed over self-interest. Unfortunately that will not work: the fact that Greece in particular did not default in 2010 and had only limited default in 2012 was in part to protect the interest of other EU banks. You could plausibly argue that Greece has suffered precisely because of German and other EU countries' self-interest.

In fact in many ways Germany has done rather well out of the EZ crisis. Henning Meyer points us to a study which suggests that, as a result of the crisis and Germany’s ‘safe haven’ status, the German government has saved more than E100 billion from 2010 to 2015 in debt interest. As Henning notes, this has helped Germany ‘set an example’ on deficits without having to do anything too painful. That is slightly more than its total loss if Greece completely defaults. It has also not done badly as a result of the profits the ECB has made on its lending.

Perhaps the largest benefit Germany has received from the Eurozone has been as a result of undercutting its fellow members around ten years ago. Everyone knows about the ‘excess inflation’ in the periphery during those years, but the story of insufficient wage inflation in Germany at the same time is not often told. This policy - which if it had occurred via exchange rates rather than domestic inflation would be called beggar my neighbour - may well have been accidental, but it is a key reason why Germany is the only Eurozone economy that has not suffered since 2010. Indeed, one interesting explanation of the general lack of interest in using fiscal policy for demand management in Germany is that for some time the country has been part of a fixed exchange rate system in which, with its particular wage bargaining system, it can fairly easily boost demand by changing domestic inflation.

What about the pressure from Germany on the ECB: first not to undertake the OMT programme in September 2012 which ended the non-Greek crisis, and then not to undertake QE? That is generally put down to extreme fears of inflation and fiscal dominance of monetary policy in Germany. Unfortunately it is also been in Germany’s self-interest. For example, if the ECB had been able to keep to its 2% inflation target, the earlier undercutting of its neighbours would have had to result in a subsequent period of German inflation above 2%. However Germany may well avoid this outcome as a result of Eurozone deflation, so that countries outside Germany will bear the cost of correcting the German competitiveness problem.

That self-interest is key to German policy gets important support from 2009 when alongside other counties Germany enacted a form of countercyclical Keynesian policy. Here we have a clear case where self-interest appeared to win out over a prevalent distrust of countercyclical fiscal policy.

In some senses I’m attracted to Michael Burda’s hypothesis. I once believed that the “problem with German macroeconomic policy is not that it is acting in the national interest, or otherwise, but that it is based on a discredited and harmful set of ideas”. But in my recent discussion on why these discredited ideas persisted, while I threw doubt on some popular accounts, I still failed to come up with a convincing story. There may also be an element of false optimism in focusing on belief in poor economic ideas rather than self-interest, if you also think (hope?) that these beliefs can be more easily changed.

For much the same reason I also think it is futile to try and convince Germany that it should embark on fiscal expansion ‘for the sake of the rest of the Eurozone’, partly because it contradicts self-interest, but also because Eurozone deflation means that we need fiscal expansion not just in Germany, but the whole of the Eurozone, so that ECB interest rates can be lifted above their lower bound. The problem over the last few years has not just been austerity in Germany, but austerity in the Eurozone as a whole.

So perhaps it is all just self-interest. But if that means there is nothing unusual about German economics, it does not let German economists off the hook. Germany was central to creating the second Eurozone recession through its insistence on fiscal austerity everywhere, together with unhelpful pressure on the ECB. Germany was also central in imposing harmful debt levels and austerity on Greece. Mainstream economics tells us this, but few German economists have been prepared to say so in public. German Keynesians who are involved in the policy debate that I have talked to tell me the prevailing climate is definitely anti-Keynesian. It is not the job of German academics to stay quiet about what mainstream macroeconomics tells us just because doing so suits the national interest.

What is it about German economics?

I recently had the privilege to speak in Berlin at the 10th anniversary celebration of the Macroeconomic Policy Institute (IMK). (The talk I gave, on the Knowledge Transmission Mechanism, is here if anyone really wants to watch it.) I had known about the IMK for some time through reading incisive posts by Andrew Watt on the Social Europe website, but more recently I had been citing important papers by other IMK economists looking at the costs of austerity. You could describe the IMK group within Germany in various ways (see below), but one would be an island of Keynesian thinking in a sea that was rather hostile to Keynesian ideas.

As my talk, and this subsequent post, focused on how Keynesian ideas are pretty mainstream elsewhere, this raises an obvious puzzle: why does macroeconomics in Germany seem to be an outlier? Given the damage done by austerity in the Eurozone, and the central role that the views of German policy makers have played in that, this is a question I have asked for many years. The textbooks used to teach macroeconomics in Germany seem to be as Keynesian as elsewhere, yet Peter Bofinger is the only Keynesian on their Council of Economic Experts, and he confirmed to me how much this minority status is typical. [1]

There are two explanations that are popular outside Germany that I now think on their own are inadequate. The first is that Germany is preoccupied by inflation as a result of the hyperinflation of the Weimar republic, and that this spills over into their attitude to government debt. (The recession of the 1930s helped create a more serious disaster, and here is a provocative account of why the memory of hyperinflation dominates.) A second idea is that Germans are culturally debt averse, and people normally note that the German for debt is also their word for guilt. The trouble with both stories is that they imply that German government debt should be much lower than in other countries, but it is not. (In 2000, the German government’s net financial liabilities as a percentage of GDP were at the same level as France, and slightly above the UK and US.)

A mistake here may be to focus too much on macroeconomics. Germany has recently introduced a minimum wage: much later than in the UK or US. I think it would be fair to say that German economists generally advised against this. In the UK and US the opinion of economists on the minimum wage issue is much more balanced, largely because there is a great deal of academic evidence that at a moderate level the minimum wage does not reduce employment significantly. So here German economics also appears to be an outlier.

Many people have heard of ordoliberalism. It would be easy to equate ordoliberalism with neoliberalism, and argue that German attitudes simply reflect the ideological dominance of neo/ordoliberal ideas. However, as I once tried to argue, because ordoliberalism recognises actual departures from an ideal of perfect markets and the need for state action in dealing with those departures (e.g. monopoly), it is potentially much more amenable to New Keynesian ideas than neoliberalism. Yet in practice ordoliberalism does not appear to allow such flexibility. It is as if in some respects economic thinking in Germany has not moved on since the 1970s: Keynesian ideas are still viewed as anti-market rather than correcting market failure, and views on the minimum wage have not taken on board market distortions like monopsony. But that observation simply prompts the question of why in these respects German economics has remained isolated from mainstream academic ideas. [2]

One of the distinctive characteristics of the German economy appears to be very far from neoliberalism, and that is co-determination: the importance of workers organisations in management, and more generally the recognition that unions play an important role in the economy. Yet I wonder whether this may have had an unintended consequence: the polarisation and politicisation of economic policy advice. The IMK is part of the Hans-Böckler-Foundation, which is linked to the German Confederation of Trade Unions. The IMK was set up in part to provide a counterweight to existing think tanks with strong links to companies and employers. If conflict over wages is institutionalised at the national level, perhaps the influence of ideology on economic policy - in so far as it influences that conflict (see footnote [1]) - is bound to be greater. 

As you can see, I remain some way from answering the question posed in the title of this post, but I think I’m a bit further forward than I was.  

[1] The ‘Hamburger Appell’ of 2005, signed by over 250 German economists, is clearly anti-Keynesian. The intellectual rationale given there is unclear, but one theme is that a more effective way of increasing employment is to increase international competitiveness by holding down domestic costs. Now if you are part of a fixed exchange rate regime or a monetary union, and you have - for institutional reasons - an ability to influence domestic wage costs that other countries that belong to the regime do not have, then it may make perfect Keynesian sense to use that instrument. This is exactly what happened (deliberately or not) from 2000 to 2007, which of course is a major reason why Germany is currently not suffering the recession being experienced by the Eurozone as a whole. (Of course, unlike a fiscal stimulus, it is a beggar my neighbour policy, because demand increases at the expense of other countries in the regime: for the regime as a whole a flexible exchange rate will offset the impact of lower costs on competitiveness.)

[2] On this isolation see Tony Yates here. At the end of this post Tony also references an interesting discussion regarding ordoliberalism and other issues in comments on a post of my own: see here.   

More asymmetries: Is Keynesian economics left wing?

In the textbooks it is suggested that Keynesian economics is what happens when ‘prices are sticky’. Sticky prices sound like prices failing to equate supply and demand, which in turn sounds like markets not working. Hence whether you believe in Keynesian theory depends on whether you think markets work, so it obviously maps to a left/right political perspective.

Reality is rather different. Suppose we start from a position where firms are selling all they wish. Aggregate demand equals aggregate supply. If then aggregate demand for goods falls, perhaps because consumers or firms are trying to rebuild their balance sheets after a financial crisis, producers of these goods will start to reduce output, and lay off workers. The idea that they would ignore the fall in demand and just carry on producing the same amount is ludicrous. So output appears to be influenced by aggregate demand at least in the short run, which is at the heart of what most economists think of as Keynesian theory.

So where do sticky prices come in? Here we have to go back to the textbooks, and to an imaginary world where the monetary authority fixes the money supply. Firms, in an effort to stimulate demand for their goods, cut prices. Lower prices mean people do not need to hold so much money to buy goods. However if the nominal money supply is fixed, interest rates will fall to encourage people to hold more money. The textbooks encourage us to think of a market for money, with interest rates as the price that equates supply and demand. Lower interest rates provide an incentive to consumers and firms to increase demand, which in turn raises output.

Now suppose that firms carry on cutting prices as long as they are selling less than they would like. The process just described will continue, with interest rates getting lower and aggregate demand rising in response. The process stops when firms stop cutting prices, which means aggregate demand has increased back to its original level. Suppose further that prices adjusted very quickly. This mechanism would work very quickly, so we would only observe aggregate demand being below supply for very short periods. If prices were extremely flexible, we could ignore aggregate demand altogether in thinking about output. Hence aggregate demand matters only if ‘prices are sticky’.

Note that this correction mechanism is quite complex, and some way from the simple microeconomic world of the market for a single good. But we need to move back to the real world again. Monetary authorities do not fix the money supply; they fix short term interest rates. So they are directly in charge of the correction mechanism that is at the heart of this story. If central banks had some way of knowing what aggregate supply was, and also had perfect knowledge of aggregate demand and how interest rates influenced it, they could make sure aggregate demand equalled supply without any need for prices to change at all. Equally, if prices were very flexible but the monetary authority always moved nominal rates in such a way as to fail to stimulate aggregate demand, aggregate demand and therefore output would not return back to equal aggregate supply. Demand would still matter, even with flexible prices.

Once you see things as they are in the real world, rather than as they are portrayed in the textbooks, the importance of aggregate demand (and therefore of Keynesian theory) is all about how good monetary policy is, and not about sticky prices. If monetary policy was perfect, then Keynesian theory would only be used by central banks in order to be perfect, and everyone else could ignore it. Of course for many good reasons monetary policy is not perfect, and so Keynesian theory matters.

We could re-establish the link between Keynesian theory and price flexibility by assuming the monetary authority follows a rule which would make policy perfect if and only if prices moved very fast, but the key point remains. The importance or otherwise of Keynesian theory depends on monetary policy. It is not about market failure. Keynesian economics is not left wing, but it is about how the economy actually works, which is why all monetary policymakers use it.

It is also common sense, which is why I’m often perplexed by those who dispute Keynesian ideas. Now maybe they are confused by the strange world portrayed in textbooks, but even if they think it is all about ‘sticky prices’, the evidence that prices are slow to adjust is overwhelming, so it is hard to dispute Keynesian theory on those grounds. Yet a whole revolution in macroeconomic theory was based around a movement that wanted to overthrow Keynesian ideas, and build models where this correction mechanism I described happened automatically. The people who built these models did not describe them as assuming monetary policy worked perfectly: instead they said it was all about assuming markets worked. As a description this was at best opaque and at worst a deliberate deception.

So why is there this desire to deny the importance of Keynesian theory coming from the political right? Perhaps it is precisely because monetary policy is necessary to ensure aggregate demand is neither excessive nor deficient. Monetary policy is state intervention: by setting a market price, an arm of the state ensures the macroeconomy works. When this particular procedure fails to work, in a liquidity trap for example, state intervention of another kind is required (fiscal policy). While these statements are self-evident to many mainstream economists, to someone of a neoliberal or ordoliberal persuasion they are discomforting. At the macroeconomic level, things only work well because of state intervention. This was so discomforting that New Classical economists attempted to create an alternative theory of business cycles where booms and recessions were nothing to be concerned about, but just the optimal response of agents to exogenous shocks.

So my argument is that Keynesian theory is not left wing, because it is not about market failure - it is just about how the macroeconomy works. On the other hand anti-Keynesian views are often politically motivated, because the pivotal role the state plays in managing the macroeconomy does not fit the ideology. Is this asymmetry odd? I do not think so - just think about the debate over climate change. Now of course it is true that there are a small minority of scientists who do not believe in manmade climate change and who are not politically motivated to do so, and I’m sure the same is true for Keynesian theory. But to claim that the majority of anti-Keynesian views were innocent of ideological preference would be like – well like trying to pretend that monetary policy has no role in stabilising the business cycle.

There are of course many differences between climate change denial and anti-Keynesian positions. One is the extent to which the antagonism has infiltrated the subject itself. Another is the extent to which the mainstream wants to deny this influence. I do wonder if the unreal view of monetary policy that remains in the textbooks does so in part so as to not offend a particular ideological position. I do know that macroeconomics is often taught as if this ideological influence was non-existent, or at least not important to the development of the discipline. I think doing good social science involves recognising ideological influence, rather than pretending it does not exist.

  

Ordoliberalism, Neoliberalism and Economics

Everyone has heard of neoliberalism, but not many outside Germany have heard of Ordoliberalism. I’m hardly an expert on either, and in particular I know very little about the particular thinkers involved and the many varieties of each concept. However as an economist it seems to me that ordoliberalism is much closer to economics than neoliberalism.

The clear difference between the two ideologies involves the role of the state. Neoliberalism wants to minimise the role of government, and in particular is naturally against all forms of state interference in markets. Its attitude to markets is essentially laissez-faire: leave market participants alone. In contrast Ordoliberalism sees a vital role for the state, in ensuring that markets stay close to some notion of an ideal market. In particular, ordoliberals believe that without a strong government powerful private interests would undermine competition. This view is often credited with inspiring strong competition laws in Germany, and perhaps also in the European Union (see this paper by Gerhard Schnyder and Mathias Siems). In this respect, Ed Miliband’s proposals for UK banking discussed by Chris Dillow are rather ordoliberal.

Ordoliberalism therefore seems much closer to the attitude an economist would naturally take. There is a clear sense in which perfect competition is an ideal in certain situations, but no clear reason why this ideal should obtain naturally. There are plenty of reasons why imperfect competition may persist, and only a few may be the consequence of government ‘interference’. There is therefore an obvious role for government to counteract anti-competitive behaviour by ‘big business’.

From this economics perspective (with apologies to John Kay), there is no reason to limit the role of the state to preventing anti-competitive behaviour. There are many other market imperfections that can be eliminated or reduced through government action. For example externalities can be tackled using particular types of taxation. The very use of the term ‘market imperfection’ seems to match the ordoliberal perspective. Whether this broader view of market failure and a role for state intervention is taken on board in ordoliberal thought is less clear. This is rather important for reasons that I’ll come to.

Once you see the state as necessary to achieve a market ideal, you need to worry about how you get the right sort of state. Ordoliberal thought sees the same danger of vested interests subverting the ‘proper’ functioning of the state just as they see in big business subverting perfect competition. There seems to be limited faith in democracy ensuring this does not happen (perhaps for obvious historical reasons), and instead a focus on rules and independent institutions. This would include, for example, an independent central bank: again there are parallels with current economic ideas. You can perhaps also see this focus on rules in the Eurozone’s fiscal compact.

There are of course many respects in which ordoliberal and neoliberal views are similar. One is an antagonism to Keynesian ideas, as I have noted before. Yet even here I think there is a potential difference. The neoliberal rejection of Keynesian demand management, even at the zero lower bound (or within a monetary union), is straightforward - it is a form of government intervention in the market. However it is less clear whether the rather limited Keynesian policies advocated by New Keynesians have to be incompatible with basic ordoliberal ideology. If you see the friction generated by sticky prices as something that generates externalities, then you can see a role for the state in limiting the impact of these externalities. Most of the time (or at the level of the monetary union), this intervention could be handled by monetary policy, but at the zero lower bound or within a monetary union countercyclical fiscal policy could play a role. In other words, while it is clear to me why a neoliberal would be anti-Keynesian, it is not so clear why an Ordoliberal has to be.

So to summarise, I think any economist - if they are open minded - can see the problems with neoliberalism. You might say that neoliberalism borrows from economics only in the sense that astrology borrows from astronomy. Ordoliberalism, because it admits the possibility of market imperfections and a role for the state in correcting them, seems - to adapt a phrase from Margaret Thatcher - more like an ideology that economists can do business with.

Anti-Keynesian Germany

                In previous posts I have focused on the problems of Eurozone current account imbalances and misalignments (differences in competitiveness). In theory this problem need not lead to overall recession in the Euro area, if growth and inflation rose significantly in Germany. They will not, as I point out here, in part because of the impact of the familiar zero lower bound constraint on the ability of the ECB to stimulate growth in the Eurozone as a whole. (Although unfortunately we cannot be sure what the ECB would do in the absence of this constraint.). However another factor is attitudes in Germany, which is what this post is about.

                Some of this just reflects national interest in the context of a relatively healthy macroeconomic position. In particular, unemployment is remarkably low. The chart below compares Germany to the OECD as a whole.

Unemployment in Germany and the OECD (%, Source OECD Economic Outlook)

The OECD story is all about the 2008/9 recession, of course. In the case of Germany you would be forgiven for asking – what recession? The reasons for this remarkable performance are not fully understood (see here for example – GDP fell by 2.6 5.1% in 2009), but the upshot is that the pressure from high unemployment felt in other countries is absent in Germany.

                GDP growth was slightly negative in the final quarter of last year, and it looks weak this year (OECD forecast 0.6%), and still not great in 2013 (OECD forecast 1.9%).  So from one point of view we might think there is scope for some (quick) stimulus? But inflation is projected to be only a little below 2%. The OECD think the output gap was negative but slightly less than 1% in 2011, while the German Council of Economic Experts estimate output is more than 1% above potential. In these circumstances the case for stimulus does not look strong.

                This is not the full story. The striking thing about Germany is that there appears to be no discussion of possible stimulus. In other countries the fourth quarter data, the prospects this year, plus uncertainties about growth in the rest of the Eurozone, might be expected to lead to some discussion of the need for some precautionary stimulus. Yet this seems almost completely absent in Germany. Arguably there is more discussion outside Germany than within (see Tyler Cowen vs Paul Krugman here for example).

                As long as I can remember, there has been an aversion to countercyclical fiscal policy within the German economic policy establishment. (Those already irritated by my personal anecdotes can skip the rest of this paragraph.) My first job when I worked in the UK Treasury was forecasting the European economies. It was just after the first oil price shock, and the UK and world were in recession. The Chancellor Dennis Healey wanted to use fiscal policy to stimulate the economy. The Treasury’s Chief Economic Advisor was invited to meet his counterparts in a short trip to Germany, and I was selected as a note taker. I remember this occasion not so much for the hospitality (which was excellent), but because I cut my long hair just before the trip, and therefore stopped looking like (acting like?) a hippy. I think I thought German officialdom might be slightly shocked if I did not. Anyway, I also remember that my senior colleague’s attempts to sell the UK view on fiscal stimulus – both in that context and as a general concept – met with a pretty unfavourable response.

                All this is part of ‘Ordoliberalism’: see this excellent post by Henry Farrell, or this from Dullien and Guérot at the European Council on Foreign Relations (HT Phillip Lane). It is not some simple hangover from the inflation of the Weimar Republic, or the Depression that followed. Christopher Allen suggests that Ordoliberalism was in part a reaction to the abuses of state power by the Nazis. Recall also that while money supply targeting was only fleetingly tried in the UK and US, it was the official policy of the Bundesbank from 1975 until the formation of the Eurozone. (Some argue its actual policy could be better described as ‘flexible monetarism’ and was not that different from inflation targeting).

                The chances of Germany assisting adjustment in the Eurozone by enacting a fiscal stimulus programme are therefore very slim indeed. Equally unfortunate may be the influence this anti-Keynesian view has on policy in the Euro area more generally. However, in the longer term I wonder if Ordoliberalism and Keynesian ideas are really that incompatible. Dullien and Guerot define the central tenet of Ordoliberalism as “governments should regulate markets in such a way that market outcome approximates the theoretical outcome in a perfectly competitive market”. The New Keynesian view of stabilisation policy is to bring the economy as close as possible to the market equilibrium that would prevail if prices were flexible. That does not sound so different.

With flexible exchange rates stabilisation would normally be done by monetary policy (to get to the natural real interest rate), but in a monetary union it has to be done using fiscal policy. I have argued that the antagonism to Keynesian policy in sections of US academia may in part reflect an outdated reaction to old fashioned Keynesian ideas and the ideology that was perceived to go with it. Perhaps the same may be true in Germany. As Henry Farrell notes, after the current recession the German government was eventually persuaded to enact a fiscal stimulus package. [For much more detail on this episode, see the new paper by Farrell and Quiggin available from Crooked Timber.] Although moderate by UK or US standards, it suggests the ideology is not immutable. For the moment, unfortunately, the ideology in its present form continues to do the Eurozone serious damage.