By CHARLES HUGH SMITH
The grand global debate in political economy boils
down to Keynesian stimulus vs. austerity. Stripped of rhetoric, the debate is
much the same in nominally communist China, socialist Europe, and notionally
free-market America: should the central state continue borrowing and spending
enormous sums of money to maintain or restart economic growth (Keynesianism),
or should it live within its means (austerity)?
Polemics have distorted the debate on several levels,
starting with what “Keynesianism” and “austerity” actually mean. As many
observers have pointed out, John Maynard Keynes did not, in fact, advocate
permanent government deficits, but rather a commonsense policy of paying down
public debt in good times and borrowing in bad times to bolster demand for
goods and services.
What Paul Krugman and his allies propose today is
neo-Keynesianism, and what that prescribes should be spelled out without spin:
governments should borrow and spend all the time, but a lot more during
recessions.
The neo-Keynesians have succeeded in painting
austerity as the grim policy of wresting bread crusts away from widows and
orphans, but its unspun meaning is that governments must live within their
means rather than fund basic programs with borrowed money.
The neo-Keynesian left claims that fiscal stimulus is responsible for America’s recovery—in contrast to Europe’s ongoing crisis under austerity—and that all we need do to escape the darkened woods of slow growth is borrow another couple of trillion dollars a year for a few years. The Tea Party right claims that fiscal stimulus is like fusion energy—its proponents have been saying it will work next year for 20 years—and the jobless U.S. recovery, dependent on unprecedented government borrowing, is not even real growth.
But fiscal stimulus, right or wrong, is only the
surface of the problem. The core lies much deeper, in the systemic mispricing
and misallocation of capital and risk.
We cannot grasp the dynamics of what both sides claim
as their ultimate goal—broad-based economic growth—without first understanding
the engines of growth: capitalism and credit. Capitalism has two key tenets:
capital is put at risk, and the open market discovers the price of capital,
labor, credit, and risk through supply and demand. Gain is not guaranteed: loss
and failure provide the discipline and feedback the system needs to function.
Moral hazard is the separation of risk from gain—those exposed to risk behave
very differently from those not exposed to risk.
The key feature of credit is that its cost is
reflected in the interest rate established by the market.
Contrast these basic tenets with central-state fiscal
and monetary policy as practiced virtually everywhere, by center-right
governments as well as left-wing ones. Interest rates are kept artificially low
by central bank policies—for example, the Federal Reserve’s Zero Interest Rate
Policy (ZIRP). As a result, borrowed money (capital) is both abundant and
cheap. Supply and demand have been shown the door: regardless of the purpose
for which money is borrowed, credit is plentiful and inexpensive both for
governments and favored private borrowers.
This distortion of supply and demand is presented as a
way to boost growth through low borrowing costs and easy access to credit. But
since the discipline and feedback of the market have been banished, the system
effectively incentivizes over-borrowing, excessive leverage, and misallocation of
capital.
Cheap abundant credit is a form of moral hazard, as
the risks of borrowing have been artificially reduced: if you can borrow money
for near-zero, why not put that money to work in speculative “carry trades”
that earn a few percentage points of profit? If credit were priced by supply
and demand, the money might cost more than the gains earned in the carry trade,
effectively limiting speculation. With credit at near-zero interest, there are
no limits to speculative borrowing or leverage.
The assumption behind artificially extending cheap
credit is that the money will be invested in the desired growth—i.e.,
productive enterprises. But since discipline and feedback have been eliminated,
what actually happens is that credit fuels the growth of financial cancers. Why
bother risking capital in legitimate enterprises when there are financial carry
trades that are profitable thanks to ZIRP?
When credit is priced by the market, the purpose for
which loans are to be used sets the cost of that money—the interest rate. Money
bound for marginal, risky enterprises costs more, and so these enterprises must
attract cash capital. If the venture can’t attract investors, it goes unfunded.
This is how capital and credit are allocated in an open market that discovers
the price of risk and credit.
Once credit is abundant and cheap, all sorts of
marginal-return or high-risk ventures receive funding and the mispriced capital
is misallocated.
The ultimate misallocator of capital is the
centralized state: when there is little cost to borrowing, it’s a painless
decision to fund bridges to nowhere, $300 million-a-piece fighter aircraft (the
F-35), and other extravagances. If money were priced by the market, borrowing
vast sums would require a tradeoff, as the interest paid would be recognized as
being unavailable for other spending.
When governments can borrow virtually unlimited sums
for near-zero interest (a 5-year Treasury bond yields .82 percent, and the
1-year yields .19 percent), there is no brake on borrowing or spending.
Risk—the foundation of capitalism—has been drowned by
easy credit: if the government squanders the money it borrows, it can simply
borrow more. Easy credit eliminates the tradeoff enforced by markets
discovering the price of credit and risk: there is no need to debate what is
productive or unproductive, as there is plenty of money for everything.
But risk cannot be eliminated; it can only be pushed
beneath the surface. Borrowed capital has an opportunity cost: money borrowed
and spent on one thing is no longer available for something more productive.
Interest also bears an opportunity cost: revenue spent paying interest is no
longer available for more productive purposes.
The neo-Keynesians’ basic premise is that cheap,
abundant credit and massive government borrowing and spending generate growth
by sparking “aggregate demand” for goods and services, which enterprises expand
to provide. What Kurgman and company fail to consider is the systemic
misallocation of scarce capital and revenue that their policies incentivize.
Having banished the discipline and pricing of the
market, their policies have no mechanism to differentiate between consumption
and productive investment: any and all borrowing and spending is considered
good because it creates demand for something.
This intrinsic inability to distinguish between
squandering borrowed money and investing it in productive enterprises is
neo-Keynesianism’s fatal flaw.
The neo-Keynesian faith in borrowing and spending
trillions of dollars as the surefire solution to recession or slow growth is
rooted in an idealized “proof of concept”: World War II.
In their mythology, the central state ended the Great
Depression by borrowing trillions of dollars into existence and spending it on
the hugely wasteful enterprise of global conventional war. According to this
myth, it didn’t matter if millions of people were paid to make things that
ended up on the bottom of the sea: what mattered was that workers were getting
paid and their savings and “animal spirits” were building up aggregate demand,
which would be unleashed once the war ended.
While the narrative is accurate in broad-brush, it
fails to note the unique conditions of America in 1941 that made the war effort
and postwar expansion possible:
1. America was the Saudi Arabia of the world at the time,
with seemingly endless reserves of cheap oil to burn on global war.
2. America’s federal government had little debt.
3. The private sector also had little debt, as credit had
contracted in the Depression.
4. The idle labor force could be employed at modest rates
of pay and overhead and could generally be trained for duties in factories or
the military in a matter of months.
5. Wartime restrictions on consumer goods were a form of
forced savings as there weren’t enough goods available for workers to buy. These forced savings
formed a massive pool of capital.
6. These forced savings flowed into war bonds, so federal
borrowing was largely funded by domestic capital.
7. Foreign capital and manufactured goods played
insignificant roles in “Fortress America.”
None of these conditions apply to 21st-century
America. Instead, the public and private sectors alike are burdened with
gargantuan debts, and the private sector’s primary household asset, the home,
has had its value gutted by the popping of the credit-fueled housing bubble.
Foreign capital is required to fund government borrowing, as domestic savings
remain anemic in our over-indebted, highly leveraged economy.
What’s missing from the neo-Keynesian narrative is
this: America in 1941 was wealthy enough in natural resources and borrowing
power that it could waste enormous quantities of energy, material, and labor.
The forced-savings capital accumulated in the war fueled the long postwar boom,
and this precious pool of capital was by and large efficiently allocated by the
market.
The situation is entirely different now, thus it is
little wonder that the model of 1941 isn’t working as intended. Instead, the
federal government’s open-throttle fiscal and monetary policies have unleashed
unintended consequences such as commodities inflation: when abundant credit and
scarce commodities meet, inflation results.
Since scarce commodities are priced in the global
economy, the cost of these essentials responds to newly printed or
borrowed-into-existence dollars by leaping higher. We received a taste of this
when the flood of global stimulus unleashed in late 2011 by central banks
resulted in higher gasoline and oil prices, at least for those of us holding
U.S. dollars.
In a global economy competing for resources, Keynesian
stimulus triggers inflation and speculation in commodities, not growth. Once
again, the suppression of market discipline and pricing leads to distortions that
cannot be fixed by additional stimulus. What is stimulated is toxic to real
growth: over-indebtedness, speculation, and inflation.
Cheap credit, unlimited government guarantees on
loans, and debt-financed spending provide no mechanisms for distinguishing
between unproductive consumption and productive investment. Thus every $100,000
student loan is counted as an investment, even though there is a world of
difference in the job market between a degree in software design and one in
fashion, medieval literature, or even in business, as MBAs appear to be in
massive oversupply.
When all borrowing and spending is equally “good” and
market discipline and feedback have been eliminated, then unproductive spending
is equated with productive investment. The consequences of this Keynesian
myopia are catastrophic: students enter the job market with essentially
worthless degrees and $100,000 in debt; roughly 40 percent of all Medicare
expenses are fraudulent (though nobody really knows as only a tiny proportion
of expenses are actually audited); Head Start teachers employed by government
are paid roughly double what equivalent private-sector teachers earn; the new
F-35 fighter aircraft costs six times more than the F-18 it replaces—the list
of unproductive spending is nearly endless because there is always more free
money to be borrowed and spent next year.
Though it may seem as if our ability to borrow and
print dollars is unlimited, history suggests otherwise: capital and resources
are scarce, and squandering them on unproductive consumption means they won’t
be available for productive investments that fuel real growth in productivity
and output.
What we desperately need is not a misleading debate
between stimulus and austerity, but a return to an economy that is allowed to
transparently price credit, risk, capital, and labor, so the discipline and
feedback of reality can inform our choices about investments of scarce capital
and resources.
No comments:
Post a Comment