Why austerity is not Labour’s Legacy

On the relationship between finance and fiscal policy

When Momentum put out this tweet following the latest spat between Corbyn and Blair

“Blair favoured deregulation of the banking industry - leading to one of the worst crashes in modern history. While spending on public services was higher, his legacy will ultimately be the austerity that followed his failure to stand up to big finance.”

I responded with this

“This is parroting the Tory line that austerity was Labour's fault. As wrong coming from the left as it was from the right. Austerity wan't inevitable after the Global Financial Crisis. It was Osborne choosing to shrink the state, because Labour hadn't. Know your true enemy.”

Big mistake. I had criticised momentum and, in some eyes, supported Blair and twitter did its stuff. Among those supporting the momentum tweet was Clive Lewis and (maybe) Grace Blakeley, and among those agreeing with me where Tom Kibasi and Chris Dillow.

A lot of these tweets were totally irrelevant to the original tweet and my response. The original tweet is pretty clear. Blair’s failure to regulate the banking industry led to austerity. So the gradual appeasement of austerity we saw from Labour from 2010 to 2015, which I have strongly criticised elsewhere, is not relevant. Nor are Darling’s plans for cutting the deficit before the 2010 election. As I have said before, it is unfortunate that Darling won his battle against Brown and Balls and allowed reducing the deficit to be part of Labour’s short term objectives. But that has nothing to do with the momentum tweet, which involved the financial sector. [1]

Did Labour’s failure to regulate finance lead to austerity? In a very basic sense the answer is clearly no. Osborne didn’t need to embark on cutting public spending in a recession for the simple reason that no Chancellor since Keynes has done so. It was his choice. Perhaps if Labour had been tougher on banks the UK might have been less vulnerable to the Global Financial Crisis. UK banks collapsed largely because of overseas assets they had on their books (little to do with domestic debt), so the regulation would have had to stop them buying those assets, or forced them to substantially reduced their leverage. But I find it hard to believe that we would have avoided a recession of some kind.

A recession - even a mild one - was all Osborne needed. He was looking for ways to reduce public spending, and he saw a rising deficit as his opportunity. He committed to his policy in 2008, which was well before the extent of the recession was known. So it seems almost certain that the deficit would have risen sufficiently to allow Osborne to undertake austerity.

But why did he undertake austerity. I think it is because he wanted to shrink the state, something he had failed to convince voters to do on its merits [2]. What I call deficit deceit is using the supposed need to reduce the deficit to cut spending. But Grace Blakeley and Clive Lewis suggest something more complex. Here is Grace:

“I suppose it depends on how you view the emergence of neoliberalism - I see it as an ideology that both emerges from and reinforces a change in the balance of class forces under which finance capital becomes hegemonic. ‘Shrinking the state’ is generally political cover for empowering or enriching a particular group and disempowering another - eg PFI used to allow investors to profit from state spending, and austerity used to disempower small l labour at a time when it otherwise might have organised to challenge the status quo.”

Suppose Labour had regulated finance to a much greater degree, and that would include not giving it a central role in Treasury decision making, much as Brown had in 1997 with the Bank and financial sector regulation. If that had reduced the size of the UK recession that would be a good thing. But would it have prevented austerity. I cannot see how. Would it have changed Osborne’s mind about wanting austerity? I cannot see how.

Did finance assist in some ways with the austerity bandwagon. Of course it did, from City folk who said the market for UK bonds was about to collapse to pressure brought through the Treasury. But much of that would have happened even if there had been greater financial regulation. Again there was nothing a Labour government could do to prevent all that, short of nationalising the entire sector. So calling austerity Labour’s legacy makes no sense on these grounds.

Another way to link finance with austerity, pointed out to me by Clive Lewis, was in this paper by Obstfeld. The idea is fairly simple. Too big to fail is all about the state bailing out the banking system. The state has to have the ‘fiscal capacity’ to do that. Ergo we need to moderate government debt levels to preserve that capacity. To look at this argument we need to examine the concept of fiscal capacity and fiscal limit.

Can a government run up a stock of debt relative to GDP that is unbounded? MMTers are quite right to say that, in a country that prints its own currency, a government can never be forced to default. But debt to GDP might get so high that the political burden of paying taxes or curtailing spending to pay the interest on that debt becomes more than the political cost of defaulting. Defaulting can take two forms: a literal default (failure to pay interest) or excess inflation devaluing the value of nominal bonds.

That limit is clearly way above the level of current UK debt. When some say we do not know where that limit is that may be a prelude to saying ‘and it might be near the current level’ which is just designed to scare governments. Governments know their own fiscal limits and the strength of their inflation targets. But Obstfeld’s point is that a financial crisis might push a government beyond its fiscal limit.

I do not think this argument held much weight with Osborne. As I noted above, he chose his policy in 2008, and I think it would have taken him a little longer to work this one out. (Obstfeld’s paper is 2013.) It might have influenced King and some Treasury officials in 2010. But you can see how weak the argument is in a recession by looking at what the Labour government did. In 2008 it bailed out the banks and in 2009 it undertook fiscal stimulus. The reason is straightforward: a recession is as bad for the financial sector as the real economy. The financial sector is hurt by loans going bad in the real economy, something that is made more likely in a recession. The priority in a recession should always be to get out of recession. Indeed I suspect Obstfeld would agree, as his paper is not an argument for austerity.

Even though I do not think there is much credence to the argument that Labour’s failure to regulate the financial sector caused UK austerity, that does not mean that the influence of the financial sector was not crucial elsewhere. Fear about the health of the financial sector in core Eurozone countries lead directly to the imposition of first austerity, and then to a second recession. Greece was hit hardest. In 2010 Eurozone leaders were happy to let Greek leaders pile on extra debt rather than default on debt their banks partly owned. That finance ministers in the Eurogroup were then prepared to tell a subsequent Greek government that they had to pay every penny back or Greece would be out of the Eurozone. (This episode tells you a lot about the Eurozone and those finance ministers and nothing about the EU.)

Banks, and politicians failure to be honest about the need to bail them out, were central to austerity in the Eurozone. Mark Blyth’s phrase “what starts with the banks ends with the banks” remains very apt there. In addition the desire to cut taxes on the rich, many of whom work in finance, is clearly a key motivation behind austerity in the US. But if austerity in the UK is anyone’s legacy, it is George Osborne and not Brown/Blair. He, and he alone, chose to cut spending in the middle of a recession, something no Chancellor has done since Keynes wrote the General Theory in 1936.

[1] For what it is worth, a different economic policy might have changed the 2010 election outcome: Labour might have got more or less seats. But it is absurd to call something a government’s legacy just because the other side were able to do it because they won an election. Under this logic Brexit is Corbyn’s legacy etc etc.

[2] Chris Dillow and others have suggested that his main motive was just to have something to attack Labour with. Some have suggested he just got the macroeconomics wrong (or more accurately it was at least 10 years out of date). It is difficult to bring evidence to bear on this debate, but all three explanations suggest Labour’s financial regulations policy had little to do with it.

Brexit and Sterling

Is the Brexit induced decline in Sterling a blessing in disguise? So argues Ashoka Mody, and to a lesser extent Paul Krugman. Their basic argument is that Brexit will hit the City, and it is the City that has created an unbalanced economy and an overvalued currency. Reducing the size of the financial sector is a necessary condition to rebalancing the economy, and Brexit can achieve this.

Ashoka Mody’s disdain for the City is absolutely clear. He writes: “The banking-property complex has been a parasite on the British economy, creating pathologies of financial vulnerability and exchange rate overvaluation.” We can see the overvaluation in the large UK current account deficit. Paul Krugman is less pejorative. The City is just an important UK exporter that Brexit will cut down to size, so we will need to make other UK exporters more competitive to fill the gap.

Neither author disagrees that, because the depreciation of Sterling will raise import prices (in economic speak it will lead to a deterioration in the terms of trade), people in the UK will be poorer. But there is also a difference in mechanisms between the two authors, which has implications for how you view this effect. For Mody the City has caused Sterling to be temporarily overvalued as a result of a “finance-property bubble”. As this is a temporary effect (bubble), sterling was bound to fall at some point anyway. As a result, Brexit has only brought forward the day that UK citizens became poorer.

Krugman on the other hand does not argue that sterling was overvalued in this sense: the City is just an important export industry that will particularly suffer from Brexit. As a result, Brexit does make the average citizen poorer permanently. But he notes that, to the extent that this depreciation also results in a redistribution from the City to more dispersed manufacturing, it might benefit some of the parts of the UK that heavily voted for Brexit.

There is nothing wrong with the logic of both arguments, as you would expect given the authors. The key question is whether they are empirically appropriate in this case. I have argued, prior to Brexit, that Sterling was overvalued, and it also seems that the IMF agrees as well. The key issue is why it was overvalued. If the reason for the overvaluation was something Brexit has ‘cured’, then Brexit has indeed ended that overvaluation. If Brexit has not taken away the reason for overvaluation, then the correction to that overvaluation has still to come.

Paul Krugman’s logic is closer to the one I have also used in arguing that the Brexit depreciation is a result of Brexit making it more difficult for UK industry to export. The twist Paul applies is a distributional one: rather than Brexit making it more difficult to export across the board, it hits one particular industry, allowing other industries to grow. Once again the key issue is whether Brexit does have this distributional effect, hitting the City harder than UK manufacturing.

Suppose there is something in what both authors suggest. I would make a very basic point. If we wanted to cut the City down to size, we didn’t have to achieve this using Brexit. We could instead have imposed much stronger regulations on the UK financial sector (basically higher capital requirements), and watch some of the industry leave in disgust. That way we would have avoided all the additional costs that Brexit will impose (recently restated by the Treasury, but only now considered ‘news’ by the Times), and with the additional benefit of having a financial sector that was not too big to fail. My fear is that after Brexit the opposite will happen: policymakers will go even easier on City regulation in an effort to make up for the damage Brexit will do. So I’m still finding it hard to see any silver lining in the Brexit decision.

Connecting the dots

John Harris has an excellent article in the Guardian, listing the number of politicians in the UK and EU who have retired to lucrative jobs, often in the financial sector. He links that directly to popular distrust of our ruling elite. I want to make the same connection, but via a slightly more elaborate but perhaps more worrying route.

First, let’s think about the financial crisis. The damage caused by that crisis has been huge, and not just because of the recession it caused. In many countries it seems to have permanently reduced the growth in productivity, meaning that compared to a world in which it did not happen we are permanently poorer by a large and growing amount.

Now as an economist I get a lot of stick about my profession failing to predict this crisis. But economists have not been reticent in thinking about how to prevent the next one. The fundamental weakness of the financial sector is the relative absence of capital (equity) compared to other companies. But the adjustments forced on banks since the crisis have been marginal, and certainly not enough to prevent another crisis.

It is natural to ask why. You might think that getting very tough with banks would have been politically popular? Measures could have been phased in to avoid any short term damage to lending. So why have politicians, and the senior civil servants who advise them, been so tentative? (For that matter, why don’t we change the way multinationals are taxed?)

Or if we go to the Eurozone, the decision to stop Greece defaulting in 2010 was the result of fear that the European banking system was too weak to cope. The consequence was crippling austerity for Greece, and bailing out European banks by the back door using Troika loans to Greece. You might think that European politicians would as a result be particularly keen to ensure that this kind of thing would never happen again, but there too action has been very limited.

If we were talking about the United States, the answer to why the financial sector is treated with kid gloves despite the problems it has caused would be obvious: the financial sector provides a huge amount of funding for politicians to spend getting elected/re-elected. In Europe that does not happen so much. But the expectation of financial reward for good behaviour in the form of employment after a politician retires may be just as effective an incentive. 

So any distrust that people have in our ruling elite and the political system that supports them is not some irrational form of envy. Politicians retiring to lucrative jobs is not inevitable and largely harmless. It is a form of corruption. It strikes at the heart of why we had a financial crisis which has made almost all of us a great deal poorer, and why little has been done to prevent another. The main beneficiaries of the public's reaction to economic hardship and elite corruption may be the likes of Donald Trump and Marine Le Pen.      

Economists versus bankers

Nearly a year and a half ago I wrote a post about encouraging dialogue between economists and other social scientists. I concluded with the following three paragraphs:

“Let me take a real world economic problem: the response to the financial crisis. Some have suggested that banks have become too large and need to be broken up, or that the activities of high street banking need to be separated from the activities of the casino. Your economic analysis tells you that networks of many small entities can be as subject to crises as networks involving a few large banks. You are also able to devise a system of Chinese walls that mean that the activities of the casino can be separated from those of the high street even within the same company, and your political masters seem to prefer this approach. You recognise that different assets differ in their liquidity, and so you devise complex weighting algorithms for computing capital ratios. Your suggestions form the basis of negotiations between officials and bankers, and a set of rules and regulations are agreed.

Over the next few years you watch in dismay as your complex system begins to unravel. The CEOs of the large banks seem to constantly have the ear of politicians, who in turn gradually compromise your elaborate controls to render them less and less effective. Those in charge of administering the rules find it much more lucrative to work for the banks, and so regulators gradually lose expertise and resolve.

And you realise that right from the start you made the wrong choice. You decided to focus on what you knew, which was how to design systems that worked well as long as those systems remained unchanged, but which were not robust to intervention by self-interested parties. In short, they were too open to rent-seeking. You realise that actually the best thing to have done was to break up the banks so that their political power was forever diminished. And you recall a conversation with your social science colleague when this all started, who might have been trying to tell you this if only you had understood the words he was using.”

I was afterwards asked whether I had one particular UK economist, John Vickers, in mind when I wrote this. He chaired, at the government’s request, a commission on banking reform. He has become increasingly vocal about how his original commission’s proposals (pdf) are being watered down and how the Bank of England appears to be putting public money at risk once again. (For his detailed assessment, see this paper. And here is what another commission member, Martin Wolf, thinks about the financial sector. Adam Barber details how the attitude of the UK government has changed. In the US this very issue became an important point of difference between Clinton and Sanders.)

The honest answer is that I did not have him in mind. It was a fictional account designed to make a point, and so I took elements from different debates which together apply to no one country or individual. The point is that in finance good reforms are those that can best resist political or economic manipulation by banks, and perhaps economists in general have been slower to see that than some of their colleagues in other social sciences..

It would probably be fair to say that before the financial crisis economists got on pretty well with the financial sector. There was a common interest in monetary policy (although the motivation for that interest might have been different) and the sector was a useful source of funds for conferences and (for a few) consultancy. Most economists did not look too hard at what the financial sector was actually doing, although those that did often raised serious questions. Behind this nice piece by Ben Chu is an army of academic research which suggests that fees paid to manage funds are a waste of money.

The situation changed after the financial crisis, for obvious reasons. Since then economists have increasingly questioned whether the whole business model behind banking is sound. In particular they have questioned why banks should be so different from other companies in terms of the amount of equity capital they hold in relation to their assets. These economists include the previous governor of the Bank of England, Mervyn King. They have also questioned whether one of the side effects of current regulation is to maintain the monopoly power of big banks.

If all that was not bad enough, we have the influence that the financial sector has on monetary policy. Mainstream macro has put a lot of emphasis on the importance of day to day monetary policy being independent of politicians, and far too little on it being independent of the influence of finance and bankers. Paul Krugman has talked about the links between interest rates and bank profits and how that might ‘guide’ the views of bankers. If you want to see a clear case of that, read this FT op-ed by David Folkerts-Landau, chief economist at Deutsche Bank.

The article could not be more wrong. The reason the Eurozone has performed so badly compared to the US, Japan and even the UK is not because of lack of structural reform, but because of the relative reluctance of the ECB to stimulate the economy. Rates were raised in 2011, and Quantitative Easing delayed until 2015. The article is full of hopeless lapses in logic. If there is any sense here at all, it is that high unemployment is required as a political incentive to undertake structural reform. So the ECB “has become the number one threat to the eurozone” because it has allowed politicians to put that reform off.

Here I can do no better than quote Adair Turner. “Vague references to “structural reform” should ideally be banned, with everyone forced to specify which particular reforms they are talking about and the timetable for any benefits that are achieved. If the core problem is inadequate global demand, only monetary or fiscal policy can solve it.” In the Eurozone the core problem is lack of aggregate demand, as below target inflation shows.

Why this hostility from German bankers to low or negative rates? What the author does not tell you is that the profits of German banks, and the viability of other parts of the German financial system, are particularly (IMF pdf, box 1.3) vulnerable to low rates. (For those that can access it, Wolfgang Münchau in the FT provides an excellent summary.) And also that the profitability of Deutsche Bank is not great right now, as Frances Coppola notes. In the UK or US if this kind of nonsense from bankers appears in the press it gets a lot of kick back from economists - in Germany perhaps less so.

So who cares if economists have crossed swords with bankers? It matters because finance gets away with so much partly through a process of mystification. Mystification is how banks can perpetrate widespread fraud on consumers and businesses. When bankers say that being forced to ‘put aside’ more capital keeps money out of the economy it sounds plausible to many, even though it is completely false. (Admati and Hellwig (pdf) list 30 other similar false claims.) There is also a belief that because bankers are involved in financial markets, they must know something about how the macroeconomy works, a belief which the FT op-ed shows is clearly false. In all these cases, economists can provide demystification.

If we are ever to cut finance down to size (metaphorically, and perhaps also literally), economists are going to be vital in the battle to do so.

A stimulus junkie's lament

One ‘stimulus junkie’ has already had a go at this FT piece by the chief economist of the German finance ministry, but let me add three points. The first is just factual. What is the unusual feature of this recovery compared to previous recessions? It is fiscal austerity. In the past governments have not generally cut spending or increased taxes just as recoveries have begun, but this time they did. Now perhaps the slow recovery and fiscal austerity are not related. But textbook macroeconomics, a large majority of economists, and all the macro models I know say they are. If German officials and economists continue to ignore this fact, they will lose international credibility.

Second, German officials need to be very careful before they claim that recent German macro performance justifies their anti-Keynesian views, because it might just prompt people to look at what has actually happened. Germany did undertake a stimulus package in 2009. But more importantly, in the years preceding that, it built up a huge competitive advantage by undercutting its Eurozone neighbours via low wage increases. This is little different in effect from beggar my neighbour devaluation. It is a demand stimulus, but (unlike fiscal stimulus) one that steals demand from other countries. This may or may not have been intended, but it should make German officials think twice before they laud their own performance to their Eurozone neighbours. If these neighbours start getting decent macro advice and some political courage, they might start replying that Germany’s current prosperity is a result of theft.

Third, they should also think twice before writing that a misguided concern about the impact of austerity “contrasts with much more convincing global action to repair the banking sector”. As this IMF analysis suggests, very little has been done to reduce the effective public subsidy to large banks in the major economies, and hence to avoid the ‘too important to fail’ problem. This is because politicians continue to ignore calls for much larger capital requirements. The financial system may have been partially 'repaired', but it still has the potential to create another global financial crisis.

There is a pattern here. Simple, basic economics is being ignored. That cutting demand or transfers from government reduces overall demand. That a country in a properly formulated monetary union that experiences a period of below average inflation will gain a short term competitive advantage, but it subsequently has to undergo a period of above average inflation to undo that advantage. That equity rather than debt for firms performs an important role as a shock absorber, and financial firms are no exception. It is not too hard to understand why these basic points are ignored. When the interests of politics and money collide with straightforward economics, economics does not stand a chance. If the incentives for getting the economics right are weak, the idea that economics loses out to money and politics is also just basic economics.  

Corbyn, QE and financial interests

Although this uses UK events as a spur, the point about QE is universal

Labour leadership candidate Jeremy Corbyn has shown some flexibility on his idea of People’s QE. That is perhaps a good sign for the future (if he wins), in terms of responding to informed criticism. As I have written before, the original proposal took two perfectly good ideas (we can do better than current QE, and the need for a National Investment Bank) and combined them in an unfortunate way. I was annoyed that this proposal had been made public with so little consultation, and that as a result it might discredit both of the two good ideas. Perhaps more optimistically it will instead spark a debate on each individually.

Here I want to talk about Quantitative Easing (QE). The basic idea behind QE is that by buying long term assets at a time when their price is high (interest rates are low) to make their price even higher (interest rates even lower) in the short term, and selling them back later when asset prices are lower (and interest rates higher), you could stimulate additional demand. At first sight it seems not too dissimilar to a central bank’s normal activities in changing short rates. There are however two major differences. The first, which in principle does not matter too much, is that the amount of money you create to ensure short term interest rates fall is modest. The amount of money you have to create to have any significant impact on long rates is much greater.

The second more important point is predictability. The central bank can have a large and fairly predictable influence on short term rates in the market. The impact of any amount of QE on long rates is much more uncertain, both in theory and in practice. Worse still, because its impact depends on certain institutionally specific market segmentation, or some very time specific signalling, and may also be quite non-linear, there is no reason to believe that any knowledge gained this time round will still be relevant the next time the instrument is used. In short, it is a lousy instrument.

That should mean that everyone is looking around for a better way of doing things when short rates hit their lower bound. Fiscal stimulus is the obvious candidate, but we know the political problems there. If you want to be kind, you can say that they illustrate the difficulties of apparently delegating stabilisation policy to a central bank, and then telling politicians that just when stabilisation is most needed they have to do it themselves. For that reason helicopter money is not just fiscal stimulus by the back door (and if the central bank is always underwritten by the fiscal authority, that could be all it is), but a means of giving the central bank the tools to do its job effectively whatever the size and sign of shock.

In the absence of an appropriate government fiscal policy, I find the logic for helicopter money compelling and the arguments against it pretty weak. But just as with fiscal policy, just because something makes good macroeconomic sense does not mean it will happen. I have always been reluctant to pay too much attention to the distributional impact of monetary policy, because it seemed like one of those occasions when even well meaning attention to distribution can mess up good policy. Yet in terms of the political economy of replacing QE, perhaps we should.

It is more likely than not that QE will lead to central bank losses. By this I mean that the central bank will have less money than if they had not undertaken the policy: whether they actually have to be recapitalised by the government is not the key issue here. After all, they are buying high, and selling low. That is integral to the policy. Who gains from these losses. Where does the money permanently created because of these losses go? To the financial sector, and the owners of financial assets (who are selling to the central bank high, and buying back low). In that sense, likely losses on QE will involve a transfer from the public to the financial sector.

If QE was the only means of stabilising the economy in a liquidity trap, because fiscal policy was out of bounds for political reasons, then so be it. The social benefits would far outweigh any distributional costs, even if the latter could not be undone elsewhere. But if QE is a highly ineffective instrument, and there are better instruments available, you have to ask in whose interest is it that we stick with QE?      

The power of financial markets

You might imagine that the global financial crisis had reduced the power and influence of finance and those involved in financial markets. After all, the excesses shown by participants in those markets had caused the largest recession since WWII. (Not to mention a constant stream of cases of illegality and mis-selling.) However I wondered yesterday if the opposite might be true.

This was during a debate at the Houses of Parliament, in which Jonathan Portes and I were debating austerity with Roger Bootle and Doug McWilliams. A constant refrain from our opponents was that (a) the stock of government debt was very large, (b) you needed the confidence of markets to be able to maintain this level of debt, (c) markets were fragile beasts, so best take no chances, and (d) therefore we needed austerity to reassure those markets.

I immediately thought of one of my better posts, where I suggest too many people view markets like a vengeful god, and those that are ‘close to the markets’ like high priests. (I couldn’t quite believe it when a member of the audience asked our opponents about whether they thought some proposal would ‘pass muster with the markets’.) Now Roger, who is a sensible guy, did agree that default was not really an issue for the UK, but the danger was rather inflation, if the deficit or debt became ‘too large’ and markets refused to fund it, so it had to be monetised. If it seems odd to you that the markets would start worrying about the monetisation of debt because a large recession increased deficits, but be quite unconcerned today about the central bank creating money to buy huge quantities of government debt as part of Quantitative Easing, then your mistake is to think that the markets are always rational. If they are both fragile and febrile, as our opponents and others close to the markets often suggest, it could happen.

Before the financial crisis, it was in the interests of those involved with financial markets to emphasise how rational they were. No need for regulation - these are clever people who knew what they are doing. The crisis blew that argument apart, but instead it created the idea that the markets could be dangerously irrational: irrationally exuberant at one point, and irrationally risk averse the next. It also showed how dependent on these markets the economy had become. Hence the idea of a vengeful god that could suddenly turn on you for no good reason and who therefore had to be appeased at every turn.

This kind of argument has a strong emotional appeal, particularly when the financial crisis is fresh in peoples’ minds. I suspect that attempts to show that markets are actually pretty rational most of the time will not work. Instead I’m afraid we have to focus on the high priests. A truly irrational market could do anything. The problem comes when the high priests declare that, by being close to the markets, they can discern some logic to its tantrums. And by a divine coincidence, this logic just happens to fit macro view of the world that the high priests hold.

For example, we are told that markets worry about large deficits and require austerity immediately. Never mind that there is no sign of worry, and that interest rates are falling: markets are fragile and febrile and could turn at any moment. The high priests, being close to the markets, understand that. Strangely the high priests never detect any concern that a persistent recession brought about by austerity might - through hysteresis effects - permanently damage productive potential, with potentially greater impacts on the tax base and long term solvency. I guess the high priests markets had not read that paper.

We are told that Osborne needed to give a clear demonstration to the markets that he had the political will to bring the deficit under control, which is why deficit reduction had to be front loaded. It does not seemed to have occurred to the high priests markets that, given his desire to reduce the size of the state and win the next election, front loading austerity is exactly what he wanted to do, even if he had no particular concern about the deficit. To show a clear conviction to give top priority to reducing the deficit required him to do something that was politically costly, like raising inheritance tax.

And do not forget that Ireland and Portugal were constantly told by those close to the markets that they needed to embark on acute austerity to ‘regain the trust of the markets’, when in fact what the markets were looking for all the time was for the ECB to act as a lender of last resort. I could see that from my academic ivory tower, but most of those ‘close to the markets’ did not.

The financial crisis may have told us about the power that financial markets have, and how it is important to understand how they behave. But the way to do that and to make good policy in the meanwhile is through economic science, and not to rely on the wisdom of priests. As I said in my little speech at the debate, the cost of UK austerity in 2010 and 2011 was at least 5% and probably more like 10% of GDP, numbers which neither of our opponents challenged. The gods it seems require big sacrifices nowadays. But if the only reason for making this sacrifice is that the high priests tell us that this is what the gods require, then I think the time for enlightenment is well overdue. 

The war with the banks has to be fought on two fronts

Trying to prevent another financial crisis was always going to require fighting on two fronts. The first, which gets most of the attention, is to change the rules and framework of regulation. That involves imposing higher capital ratios and leverage ratios, as well as restricting the activities that banks can engage in. Some progress has been made on that front. The second involves political change, and here I’m not sure any progress has been made. 

The banking sectors in most countries were responsible for the financial crisis. Increases in leverage on the scale shown here were just courting disaster. Big mistakes were made by regulators in allowing this, but the source of the problem was the actions of those in the financial sector. That crisis showed us that ‘too important to fail’ creates a huge market distortion, which mainly benefits those working in banks. The battle to change the status quo is therefore of huge importance.

I’m not an expert in these matters, but my impression is that some progress is being made on the first front. Banks have of course resisted much of this, saying that it would discourage lending and therefore hurt the recovery. Stephen Cecchetti argues that this has not happened. What has been hit is bank profitability, which indicates changes are having the desired effect. Cecchetti suggests as a result that more could be done, and this seems an understatement. Recent work by the IMF suggests that big banks continue to attract large implicit subsidies, while Admati and Hellwig present a well thought out case for much higher capital ratios. Until this happens, our money will continue to help fund bank bonuses.

So on the first front, some progress has been made but much more needs to be done.[1] However the recent case of Citigroup and the US congress illustrates all too clearly why we need a second, more political battle. [2] The story is very simple. The Dodds-Frank act that became part of US law in 2010 prevents US banks from using deposits to undertake certain ‘speculative’ activities. That was one of the victories on the first front discussed above. One of these speculative activities, and possibly the most dangerous in scale, is derivatives trading. On the 11th of December last year, as part of the last minute deal to prevent another US government shutdown, congress passed a provision that exempted derivatives from Dodds-Frank. The provision was based on drafting by the US bank Citigroup.

Why would Congress undo its own legislation in this way? The answer is not hard to find. US banks contribute huge amounts of money to fund the campaigns of those that run for congress, be they Democrat or Republican. It spends huge amounts on lobbying. Members of government often have or will work for these banks. Of course regulators can also be captured by those they are supposed to regulate. This could all be described as institutionalised corruption.

The only big difference between the US and the UK or Europe is that these things are a little more open in the US. City contributions make up a large proportion of Conservative party donations in the UK, and the other parties are hardly indifferent to wealthy donors who made their money in the financial industry. Lobbying is extensive and there are plenty of legislators with links to the financial sector. As Tamasin Cave notes, the UK comes second only to Switzerland for the number of people moving through the “revolving door” between the finance sector and officialdom. Whether Europe’s attempts to put a cap on bankers’ bonuses made economic sense or not, the fact that the UK Chancellor and Treasury were prepared to try so hard to prevent it happening shows who calls the shots in the UK government. Similar points can be made about the extent of lobbying and industry links in Europe.      

The Citigroup case shows how any immediate gains achieved on the first front can be steadily eroded by the political influence of the banks as the memories of the financial crisis fade. Now it might have been prudent from the US banks’ point of view to wait a bit before doing this so openly. Simon Johnson rather optimistically suggests that Citigroup’s blatant move may end up with its breakup. Alternatively Citigroup may just know they have the political upper hand. In the UK, it is difficult to know where an effective challenge to banks' political power will come from, and good reasons to think that any challenge would not be successful. [3] Such a challenge would be hugely popular, but more than popularity is required to counter the influence of money and power.

[1] In particular, the importance of simple regulation that cannot be gamed seems not to have been sufficiently appreciated.

[2] The case is unfortunately not an isolated example.

[3] An example of what UK governments can try and get away with in the interests of large corporations is provided by the case of Jeremy Hunt and News Corp. In November 2010 Culture Secretary Hunt sent a memo to the Prime Minister which began “James Murdoch is pretty furious at Vince’s referral to Ofcom.” That was Vince Cable’s referral of News Corp’s proposed takeover of BSkyB. The memo argued News Corp’s case. As Stuart Weir documents, Hunt was hardly a disinterested party in this. When Vince Cable was subsequently forced to relinquish his role in the affair because of comments he made to constituents, it fell to Cameron to appoint someone who was seen as more impartial. He appointed Hunt to take over. When civil servant Gus O’Donnell was asked to oversee the propriety of the appointment, Hunt’s memo was not disclosed to him. 

Why macroeconomists, not bankers, should set interest rates

More thoughts on the idea that interest rates ought to rise because of the possibility that the financial sector is taking excessive risks: what I called in this earlier post the BIS case, after the Bank of International Settlements, the international club for central bankers. I know Paul Krugman, Brad DeLong, Mark Thoma, Tony Yates and many others have already weighed in here, but - being macroeconomists - they were perhaps too modest to draw this lesson.

To most macroeconomists, the theory of monetary policy is pretty straightforward. Interest rates should be set at a level which closes the output gap, which can be defined as the level of output and unemployment that will keep underlying inflation constant. We can call this real interest rate the Wicksellian natural rate. The difficulty is not in the concept, but in the practice of putting numbers to this concept when inflation is noisy, the output gap is hard to estimate, there are lags in the system etc etc.

But, respond those putting the BIS case, wasn’t that what monetary policymakers thought they were doing in 2007, and look what happened next. Monetary policy cannot afford to ignore the financial sector, and the risk of excessive lending and bubbles that subsequently blow up the economy. There are signs, they say, that what happened in 2007/8 may be happening again now, so we need to raise rates to prevent another crash, even though there is still a negative output gap and inflation is below target.

Which might seem plausible, until you notice what is going on here. The implication is that a financial crisis only happens because interest rates are set at the wrong level. The Great Recession was all the fault of the Fed, who kept interest rates too low after the 2001 recession. The gradual deregulation of the financial sector in the decades before? - not an issue. The widespread misselling of subprime mortgages? - these things happen. All the other examples of misselling and fraud? - boys will be boys. An industry that profits from a massive implicit public subsidy? - we see no subsidy. Classifying subprime products as AAA? Massive increases in bank leverage in the 00s? - all the result of keeping interest rates too low.

When those putting the BIS case tell you that macroprudential controls (a.k.a. financial regulations) are ‘untested’ and ‘uncertain in their impact’, what they are really saying is that the financial system cannot be regulated to make it safe when interest rates are low. There is no evidence for that proposition, and a lot of history that says otherwise. We do not have to accept a deregulated financial sector which has the power at any moment to derail the real economy. But of course most working in the financial sector hate regulation. They have an interest in perpetuating different stories about the Great Recession. If you spend too much time around bankers, there is a danger that you come to believe these self-serving stories.

But, you might say, what harm would a modest increase in interest rates do? Again, basic macroeconomics, which I have not seen anyone putting the BIS case address. Raising rates implies in current circumstances a larger negative output gap, which will reduce inflation further below its target. As happened in Sweden, and accurately predicted by macroeconomist Lars Svensson. Two things could then happen. First, interest rates come back down again (in Sweden’s case by outvoting the governor for the first time since it gained its independence in 1999), but the cost of lost resources and higher unemployment created in the meantime can never be redeemed. Second, interest rates stay high for long enough that the public will conclude that the inflation target has in reality been revised down, and we risk converging to a deflationary steady state (technical discussion here), or in non-technical terms a Japan-like lost decade or more of low output and deflation.

To see clearly why this makes no sense, consider the symmetric case. Suppose someone argued, when inflation was above target, that we should not raise rates, but instead allow the output gap to be positive. I suspect those currently making the BIS case would scream disaster – it is the 1970s all over again. So why is that wrong but doing the same thing in reverse OK? In fact it is worse than that. If long run expected inflation rises, a central bank can always signal its true inflation target by sharply raising rates. In the opposite case it may not be able to, because of the Zero Lower Bound.

I like to praise the current UK government when I can. In setting up a Financial Policy Committee that is separate from the Monetary Policy Committee they did exactly the right thing. This formalises an assignment: macro prudential policy to control financial sector excess, and interest rates to control demand and inflation. Most macroeconomists know this makes sense. But the financial sector has a pecuniary interest in pretending otherwise. Those that get too close to that sector should be kept well away from setting interest rates. 

Austerity, journalists and the financial sector

The argument that current growth (since 2013 in the UK and maybe from 2014 in the Eurozone) vindicates austerity is ludicrous. Anyone who comes to the debate without existing baggage can see that developments in the UK and Eurozone have been entirely consistent with what academic critics of austerity have been saying. So rather than go over the arguments yet again, let me ask why some people continue to make or support this ludicrous argument.

In some cases asking this question does not tell you a great deal. For George Osborne, for example, you could simply say ‘he would, wouldn’t he’. Still I think there are two interesting points to note: first, here is a Chancellor who feels no inhibition in allowing sound bite to trounce economic logic, and second, he feels confident that he can get away with it, which tells you a great deal about the UK media.

Which brings me to the Financial Times (ex Martin Wolf). Now, to be pedantic, the FT tends not to say outright that current growth vindicates austerity, but instead that George Osborne is justified to claim that it does. Yet this subtlety aside, why do they pursue this line? It would be easy to lump them in with the politicians, but I think that would be both wrong, and miss some important points.

I thought about this partly because of the latest Chris Giles article on the issue (HT Alan Taylor), but also because of Paul Krugman’s comment on my earlier post that discussed the weakness of the European left on macro policy. He makes the point that Obama also showed similar weakness on austerity, and explains this in terms of the influence of what he terms ‘Very Serious People’ (VSP), “whose views on economics tend in turn to be driven largely by the financial industry.” Now at this point I usually add a caveat that there are some good economists who work for financial institutions, but generally the sector’s view on austerity is that it is necessary, and often that it is unlikely to have much impact on domestic output.

Why does the financial sector (the City, or Wall Street, or whatever the equivalent name is in other European countries) have this view? There are probably many reasons, but one that I think is very important is the 2008 recession. This recession should have been disastrous for the influence of finance: the activities of part of the financial sector brought the economy as a whole to its knees, and parts of that sector had to be bailed out with huge amounts of public money. Economists, the public and possibly some politicians began to question whether the continuing financialisation of economic activity might be detrimental rather than helpful to economic growth. No amount of expensive hospitality should have been able to repair that blow to its reputation and prestige.

Of course attempts were made to blame it all on US monetary policy, or global imbalances. The intellectual basis for these alternative stories was pretty thin, but also beyond the academic debate they did not resonate. What was really required was to change the story. The 2010 Eurozone debt crisis was therefore a godsend to finance. The focus was now on the dangers of high government debt, and the necessity of austerity to end this new crisis. Here was a story that certainly did resonate (just look at Greece), and was also an ideal distraction from the problems caused by the financial sector.

I’m not suggesting that one crisis was manufactured to distract from the other. What I am suggesting is that those working in finance understood the importance of changing the story. There was a clear party line, which fitted the dominant ideology. The state bailing out banks is terrible for neoliberalism, while a story based on the evils of excessive government spending fits the ideology perfectly. For VSPs, economic journalists or politicians it was natural to turn to the prophets of finance during the debt crisis, and so any distrust VSPs might have had of these prophets as a result of the financial crisis faded away. Although the level of economic analysis within the FT is generally high, they were perhaps also bound to follow the City/Wall Street line.

On Chris Giles’s article specifically there is much to say, and Jonathan Portes has the patience to say it once more. So let me make just one point. Chris as a good economic journalist recognises that the ‘growth vindicates austerity’ line is nonsense, so instead he tries to accuse the other side of equal mendacity. To see how silly this idea is, consider the following quote:

“It was precisely the chancellor’s fiercest critics who were themselves unable to distinguish between correlation and causation during the period of stagnation and have thereby legitimised Mr Osborne’s rhetorical victory lap. They have only themselves to blame. The lesson to learn is that the economy is complicated and everyone should be deeply sceptical of anyone drawing strong conclusions from simple links that appear momentarily true.”

Of course it is completely the other way around. If there is a simple idea here, it belongs to those who support austerity, and it is the view that monetary policy can always control the level of activity. It was austerity’s critics (beginning with Paul Krugman) who emphasised the complication of nominal interest rates hitting a lower bound. Analysis of austerity based on complex macro models almost always supports the critics view (e.g. here). Criticisms of austerity are rooted in long established theory, while the idea of expansionary austerity or the 90% critical debt level relied on simple correlations.

So Chris, there is no symmetry here between Osborne and most of his economist critics. One of the reasons I started this blog is that I found, perhaps for the first time in my adult life, finance ministers arguing positions which directly contradicted the received wisdom I was teaching undergraduate and graduate students. In an ideal world economics journalists would also recognise when this happens, and tell people about it.