Dani Rodrik talks straight on trade

Dani Rodrik’s new book is a challenging read (in the good sense) for any liberal in the UK living through Brexit, or in the US contemplating whether Trump will destroy NAFTA. For example Chapter 2 starts with Theresa May’s statement about a citizen of the world is a citizen of nowhere, and the rest of the chapter is about how that statement contains an essential truth. Although Rodrik admits he himself looks like the perfect specimen of a global citizen, he argues convincingly that for most people the nation state represents their feelings of identity, of economic inequality, and provides their security (or not) after global shocks. Furthermore, he argues, that is how it should be.

His enemy in this Chapter is what he calls hyperglobalisation. To quote:

“We push markets beyond what their governance can support. We set global rules that defy the underlying diversity in needs and preferences. We downgrade the nation-state without compensating improvements in governance elsewhere. The failure lies at the heart of globalisation’s unaddressed ills as well as the decline in our democracies’ health”

The next chapter considers the Eurozone as a case study of failing to appreciate these points. He argues, as many economists do, that this means either a much fuller political union or abandoning the monetary union. My own view is that the latter will not happen, and the former should not happen for all the reasons he gives in the previous chapter. What I think needs to be explored is combining a monetary union with national autonomy over fiscal policy in such a way that both prevents bailouts, by allowing default when inevitable, and otherwise allows the ECB to act as a sovereign lender of last resort. Only if that fails can we conclude that that the Eurozone has to go to political union or different currencies.

Returning to this reader being challenged, in a chapter entitled ‘The Perils of Economic Consensus’ he writes:

“Even in the case of Brexit, where the weight of both evidence and theory predicts adverse economic results, economists would have been well advised to emphasize their uncertainty over their confidence.”

If we mean ‘well advised’ in the sense of being more convincing, I doubt very much if this is true. Here I am always reminded of debates I have often seen on TV between a climate change scientist and a climate change skeptic. The scientist typically expresses exactly the uncertainties in the way Rodrik suggests they should, while the skeptic on the other hand, who is normally not a scientist, seem totally confident in the views they express. Unfortunately most viewers of this debate are not scientists, and we know people are attracted to those who are confident and self assured. The contrast is between scientific and political discourse: here is another example. But given this, doesn’t the ‘be modest’ imperative need to be modified by context?

Of course one of the things Rodrik is best known for is in challenging the economists' consensus that trade agreements are always good, which I mentioned here and which he discusses in the book. As more and more economists are now realising, he was right to make that challenge. Perhaps the two perspectives can be reconciled as follows. The problem with the free trade advocates is that they were keeping quiet about known issues with their analysis because they thought it would give ammunition to ‘the other side’. As far as academic analysis of Brexit is concerned, and confining ourselves to the economic impact alone, I do not think the same applies.

There are plenty more challenges in the book to what often goes as established economic wisdom. For example he argues against the idea that development would be hindered by worrying about workers rights in developing countries. He argues that state or crony capitalism has in many cases been a successful route to economic development. But mainly there is a wealth of intelligent, informed and often enlightening discussion about routes to economic development, the power of ideas over interests, why current unrest has generally not benefited the left and so on and so on.

In that sense the title of the book is rather misleading. Although it is discussed a lot, this is hardly just a book about trade. Indeed the subtitle “Ideas for a sane world economy” conveys a better picture of what it is about. The book is based on a collection of articles written for Project Syndicate and elsewhere, and occasionally the joins show. But that feeling quickly gets lost in a wealth of stimulating arguments and ideas that I defy anyone to find dull. This is a fascinating book to read, and I cannot think of anyone who would not learn a great deal from reading it.

Economists: too much ideology, too little craft

Paul Krugman argued yesterday that the belief in the need for new economic thinking after the financial crisis was incorrect, but led to some crazy but influential ideas that suited big money and the political right. While I agree with a lot of what Paul says, I would want to add something. These thoughts are strongly influenced by the fact that I’m in the middle of reading Dani Rodrik’s new book, called ‘Straight Talk on Trade’ (of which hopefully more in a later post).

In the preface to that book he tells the story of how 20 odd years ago he asked an economist to endorse a previous book of his called ‘Has Globalisation Gone Too Far?’. The economist said he couldn’t, not because he disagreed with anything in the book, but because he thought the book would “provide ammunition to the barbarians”. Dani Rodrik argues that this attitude is still commonplace. That attitude is, of course, both very political and very unscientific.

I suspect that something similar might have been going on before the financial crisis among economists working in finance. Paul Krugman is certainly correct that mainstream economics contained models that could explain much of why the GFC happened, so little new thinking was required in that sense. But one reason why so few mainstream economists used those models before the event owed at least something to an ideological aversion to regulation, and perhaps also not wanting to bite the hand that feeds you.

One of the features of mainstream economics today is the huge diversity of models that are around. Academic prestige tends to come to those who add to that number. But how do you decide which model to use when investigating a particular problem? The answer is by looking at evidence about applicability. That is not a trivial task because of the probabilistic and diverse nature of economic evidence, and Dani Rodrik describes that process as more of a craft than a science.

So, in the case of the GFC, good craft was in seeing that new methods of spreading risk were vulnerable to system wide events. Good craft was to see, if you had access to the data, that rapid increases in bank leverage should always be a concern. And more generally that arguments that ‘this time was different’ do not generally end well.

In my own discipline, I can think at least one area that should not have got off the ground if the craft of model selection had been applied well. RBC models were never going to describe business cycles because we know increases in unemployment in a downturn are involuntary. If you do not apply the craft well, then what can replace it is ideology, politics or simple groupthink. This is not just an issue for some individual economists, but can sometimes be a concern for the majority.

Economists as medics

I got some stick on twitter the other day for my (longstanding) view that economics is in many respects like medicine. It is of course not exactly like medicine: as the man said, economics is an inexact and separate science. But think about what most doctors spend their time doing. They are in the business of problem solving in a highly uncertain environment in which they only have a limited number of clues to go on. They have solutions to a subset of problems that work with varying degrees of reliability.

If you read Dani Rodrik’s book Economics Rules (which if you have not you should, and can the person who borrowed my copy return it please!), you will see that economists have a large number of distinct models, and the problem that many economists spend their time solving is which model is most applicable to the problem they have been asked to solve. Where doctors have biology as the underlying science behind what they do, they also rely on historical correlations to see if the science is appropriate. Think about solving the problem of why there had been an increase in lung cancer in the middle of the last century.

The science for economists is microeconomic theory, now enriched by behavioural economics. Most of the models economists use are derived from this theory. But as Rodrik emphasises, the trick is to know which model is applicable to the problem you have been asked to solve. To help solve that problem, economists, like doctors, want data. Many have observed how journal articles are now more likely to be about investigating data than establishing theoretical results. Economists have recently started adopting the terminology of medicine in economic studies, talking about treatment effects for example. We both do controlled trials (for economists, mainly in development economics).

Sometimes the paths of the two disciplines cross (as they do all the time, of course, in health economics). One of the big empirical discoveries of recent years has been by Case and Deaton, looking at mortality rates of the US white population. Here is a key figure from their 2015 study.

Mortality has been falling steadily almost everywhere, except since just before 2000 among US whites. Focusing just on the US, the problem seems to be mainly for non-college educated whites (this graphic comes from here).

As with anything to do with race and class in the US, this work has been controversial, but some excellent analysis from Noah Smith shows that the problem suggested by the data is real enough.

Case and Deaton have a new study which tries to understand why this is happening. They describe it as evidence of ‘deaths of despair’. In each age cohort among this group, deaths from suicide, drug overdose or alcohol have been steadily rising. Some useful data is shown here. The interpretation the authors give for the despair is the decline in economic circumstances and status of the white working class in the US.

One of the factors that they describe as an ‘accelerant’ in this development has been the overprescription of opioids drugs that provide short term pain relief, but which have negative consequences in the longer term. US policy over the last 20 years has led to what some describe as the

“worst drug epidemic in U.S. history. Enough opioids are prescribed in the United States each year to keep every man, woman and child on them around the clock for one month.”

They go on

“It is hard to believe that medicine, which prides itself on empiricism, could have taken such a wrong turn.”

Of course individual doctors make mistakes all the time, but the profession as a whole can make major mistakes. It is of course subject to pressures from individuals and large organisations (drug companies). In this, again, it is like economics.

Consider this chart, taken from Alan M. Taylor, ‘The Great Leveraging’, NBER WP 18290.

The blue line shows the percentage of high income countries experiencing a financial crisis each year. Crises were endemic until after WWII, when it appeared for two decades or more that they were a thing of the past. In the 1980s they returned, but without any major impact on high income countries. Then there was Japan’s lost decade, and plenty of papers were written about how that was a particularly Japanese problem. The 2000s seemed quiet, and some called it the Great Moderation, until the global financial crisis arrived.

Looking at this chart, it is hard to believe that economics, that prides itself on its empiricism, could have made the mistake of believing that now things were different. But economics, like medicine, can make big as well as small mistakes. The point I want to make here is the different nature of the response to these mistakes from outside these disciplines. No one says that medicine has failed us, and we need to find fresh voices. No one will say that ‘mainstream medicine’ is in crisis, and we need to look at alternatives.

They do not say that because it would be stupid to do so. With the opioid epidemic something has gone very wrong and it needs to be corrected, and the same is true for economics and the financial crisis. So why the overreaction when it comes to academic economics? One reason is that doctors are not generally asked how long people will live, and even when they do their forecasts are not published almost every day in the press. Most economists are as honest as doctors would be about that kind of unconditional forecasting, but it suits the media to appear shocked and surprised when things go wrong. Another reason is that ordinary people can see doctors doing good things all the time to themselves, their friends and families, but the work of economists is felt less directly. It also seems intuitive that medics are in some sense better than economists, although how you could measure that I do not know. Both factors may explain why medicine is internally policed to a large degree (doctors can be stopped from practicing), whereas economics is not.

Another big difference involves politics. Economists bring unwelcome news to both left and right, so it suits both sides to occasionally bash the discipline that brings the message. We have seen a great deal of that from the right over Brexit. For the left more than the right there are also non-mainstream economists who have an interest in arguing that the mainstream has been corrupted by ideology. Quite why so many on the left choose to attack mainstream economics rather than use the mainstream to attack the right I do not know. All I do know is that they have been doing it for 40+ years, as I remember being told by many economists that the mainstream was fatally flawed back in Cambridge in the early 1970s, which was before Thatcher and Reagan.

But these differences should not obscure the similarities between economics and medicine. We both deal with people, and their mind and body can be pretty complicated whether as individuals, or as a society. In some areas we have developed quite detailed degrees of quantitative understanding that allow us to make successful interventions (more so than in other social sciences I suspect). In other areas we do things that work most of the time but sometimes fail, but there are many important areas where if we are honest we do not have any real idea of what is going on. So we make mistakes, which can sometimes be extremely costly for huge numbers of people, but we also learn from these mistakes.

Understanding free trade

A past member of the UK’s monetary policy committee once told me that they got much more intelligent questions from committees of the House of Lords compared to committees of the House of Commons. This should not be too surprising, as there are some people with considerable knowledge and experience in the Lords.

Below is an excerpt from the conclusions of a recent Lords EU Committee Report (HT Frances Coppola)

“The notion that a country can have complete regulatory sovereignty while engaging in comprehensive free trade with partners is based on a misunderstanding of the nature of free trade. Modern FTAs involve extensive regulatory harmonisation in order to eliminate non-tariff barriers, and surveillance and dispute resolution arrangements to monitor and enforce implementation. The liberalisation of trade thus requires states to agree to limit the exercise of their sovereignty. The four frameworks considered in this report all require different trade-offs between market access and the exercise of sovereignty. As a general rule, the deeper the trade relationship, the greater the loss of sovereignty.”

There you have, in one calm and measured paragraph, the contradiction at the heart of the argument put forward by Liam Fox and others that leaving the EU will allow the UK to become a ‘champion of free trade’. You cannot be a champion of free trade, and have sovereignty in the form of taking back control.

It is not a contradiction, of course, if you are happy to accept the regulatory standards of the US, China or India. That appears to be the position of Leave leaders like MP Jacob Rees Mogg. Ellie Mae O’Hagan spells out what this may mean in practice. Lead in toys - bring them in so we can sign a trade agreement with China. And you can be sure that this will be the nature of the discussion every time a trade deal is signed. In each case we will be told that we have to accept this drop in regulatory standards, because British export jobs are on the line.

This is the point of Dani Rodrik’s famous impossible trilemma: you cannot have all three of the nation state, democratic politics and deep economic integration (aka free trade). His trilemma replaces sovereignty, by which in meant in this context the nation state being able to do what it likes, by democracy. In the past I have always found this problematic. Surely a democracy can decide to give away a bit of its sovereignty in return for the benefits of international cooperation (in the form of trade deals, or indeed any other kind of international cooperation). After all, every adult in a relationship knows that this relationship means certain restrictions on doing just what they would like.

At first sight, it would seem as if the Brexit vote shows Rodrik is right. Democracy voted to take back control, which means reducing trade integration. But I think it is becoming increasingly clear that this is the wrong interpretation. Voters were told they could take back control and be no worse off, and polls make it clear that message was believed by many Leave voters. As it becomes clear that people will be worse off, as depreciation induced inflation cuts real wages, opinion is changing. Polls already suggest that if the vote was held again, we would get a different result. Polls also suggest more voters want to prioritise favourable trade deals in negotiations, not curb immigration. Over the next year or two this will only intensify, as prices rise, as companies make plans to leave the UK, as the problems caused by declining immigration emerge, and as the UK’s weak negotiating position becomes clearer.

Leavers know this, hence the attempts to remove any kind of democratic oversight from the Brexit process. At present MPs appear transfixed by the light of the Brexit vote, even though most know Brexit is an act of self harm. But it was utterly predictable from the day that Corbyn was re-elected that we would see a revival of the Liberal Democrats. As they chalk up election victories, it might just be possible that we could yet see some democratic oversight of the Brexit process. [1]

To see a model of what could and should happen, look to Switzerland, where referendums are part of political life. In February 2014 Switzerland voted to restrict immigration from the EU, even though this jeopardised their trade relations with the EU. Since then the EU has insisted that its bilateral trade deals with Switzerland depend on free movement. As a result the Swiss parliament has backed down, and just passed measures which greatly diverge from the referendum proposal, even though in Switzerland referendums are (unlike the UK) meant to be constitutionally binding.

So we see in Switzerland, and perhaps we will see in the UK, that parliamentary democracy can be compatible with trade integration. Rodrik is right that deep trade integration (the pressures from which will continue, as Richard Baldwin outlines) puts pressure on the ability of nation states to decide on their own laws, but a democratically negotiated compromise is possible. (After all, national languages are a barrier to trade.) Perhaps the examples of the UK and Switzerland suggest two things: first that these negotiated compromises should be out in the open rather than done behind closed doors, and secondly that what is very difficult to mix are trade integration with national referendums.

[1] The conventional logic is that MPs would go along with Brexit because the Remain vote is concentrated in too few constituencies. But outside Scotland the Leave vote is now split three ways (Conservative, Labour and UKIP). Labour may mock the LibDems as Brexit deniers, but as the LibDems get the votes not only of people who deeply care about being part of Europe (see the surge in Remain identity noted here) but also of those that voted Leave but are now getting concerned, they will be the ones with the last laugh.

Brexit: a battle lost but who will fight the war?

The Brexit vote was, in economic terms, an act of self harm. You do not need to just ‘trust the experts’ on this: it is pretty close to common sense. As Rebecca Driver clearly explains, leaving the single market will make it much more difficult for (particularly small) firms to trade in Europe. As Europe is on our doorstep and geography matters, that cannot and will not be compensated for by trading more elsewhere. [1] Finally greater trade is associated, for clear reasons, with higher growth. Lower growth will impact unfavourably on every area in the UK, whether they voted Leave or Remain.

The harm done is not just economic. As Ben Chu writes, “The crude majoritarian politics of this referendum has seen half of the population (a generally poorer, less well-educated and elderly half) effectively strip major freedoms and even a cherished identity from the other half (a more prosperous and predominantly younger half)”. Before the referendum, I had conversations with people arguing that a Brexit vote would be more harmful than a Trump presidency, and this deep sense of anger, loss and despondency will not go away. We therefore need to understand why it happened.

In my last post I argued that Brexit was a protest vote against both the impact of globalisation and social liberalism. The two come together over immigration, and of course the one certainty of the Brexit debate was that free movement prevented controls on EU migration. Globalisation has benefited the majority in the UK, so those who had not benefited could not alone have won a Brexit vote. Equally social conservatives have lost battle after battle in the UK on specific social issues. Brexit was the perfect storm where these two groups came together, and combined they just managed to win.

Explanations do not imply inevitability, but instead tell us why the result could easily have been different. We need a sensible discussion about immigration, rather than assume it is always and everywhere a problem. However to follow the social conservative route and say concern over immigration is just xenophobia is not helpful. [2] We need to challenge the view the right wing press has patiently built up that immigration is responsible for declining public services and making it difficult to get housing. Too many people continue to discount the power and influence of the media: that is a mistake, as this research on Fox news shows. It is not difficult to get across the benefits of immigration, given how much the NHS and our construction sector depend on immigrants, but it is not something many of our leading politicians have done for some time.

More generally it is becoming increasingly clear how destructive the doctrine of neoliberalisation has been. Neoliberalism combines the encouragement of globalisation with demands for a much reduced role for the state. In the advanced economies the deindustrialisation implied by globalisation and the growth of China and elsewhere has been beneficial overall, but there are sections of society that have lost out, which invites a backlash. As Kevin O’Rourke shows, globalisation has often led to fierce resistance in the past. Dani Rodrik has demonstrated how state spending can protect, and has often in the past protected, the losers from trade. [3] (As an economist mights say, globalisation is a Kaldor/Hicks improvement, but in recent times the compensation part has been missing.) Brexit, like the financial crisis and perhaps also Donald Trump, are in this sense problems created not by globalisation alone but by neoliberalism.

For the UK it is worse than that. It is not just that austerity is the real cause of declining public services, and a failure to build houses is the cause of rising prices and rents. (See Chris Dillow or Mariana Mazzucato) It is that this government in particular has connived with the right wing press to transfer blame for an NHS in crisis and unaffordable housing from their own policies on to immigration. The Remain campaign was Cameron and Osborne, and neither were prepared to change their tune and start talking about how limiting immigration would mean there was even less money for public services. As I noted in the previous post, the NHS was an important concern for Leave voters, and they thought Brexit would make things better. Can you imagine a worse background for the EU referendum vote than a government that continually stressed the importance of limiting immigration, but failed to achieve those limits so spectacularly. [4]

This was not the only problem with the Remain campaign. In terms of getting the message across, Leave seemed to understand their target audience much better. (It is not my field, but this from Mark Hind makes sense.) To get the message across the Remain campaign relied on the institutions of the establishment: the Treasury, Bank of England, IMF etc. Fine for those for whom the establishment is respected, less so for those who regard it as remote and detached from their lives. Remain made very little use of academics, despite the fact that this group is trusted by the public. [5] Leave did seem to understand this, which is why they went to ridiculous extremes to discredit these experts. The broadcast media hardly ever noted the consensus among economists that Brexit would reduce everyone's standard of living, and instead did their ‘he says, she says’ thing. This media also failed to point out the lies Leave told, preferring ‘balance’ over truth.

All this implies that while the potential for a Brexit vote was always there, reflecting the perfect storm of anger against globalisation and social liberalism, it might not have been realised if the Remain campaign had been better, the Leave campaign had been honest and the broadcast media had not departed from its mission to educate and explain. The lies of the Leave camp are already apparent. The depreciation in sterling that immediately followed the vote is a cut in living standards for everyone in the UK with no lasting compensation. It is permanent unless the markets have got things spectacularly wrong. The economic downturn that is underway is as predicted. In both cases voters were told this was fear mongering by the Remain side: now those that promoted Leave are in the ludicrous situation of arguing that markets and firms have somehow been deceived by Project Fear.

In normal circumstances this would all be a cause for optimism. We do not need many voters to realise that they were conned by the Leave campaign before Leavers become a minority, or at least for the majority to favour a deal that can keep the UK in the single market with essentially free movement of labour. (There may have even been such a majority on the day of the vote.) To call this the denial stage in some ‘grieving process’ by Remain voters misunderstands the nature of the decision. Leaving is compatible with a whole range of alternative arrangements: some quite close to EU membership, some not. In that sense the vote only gave the green light to an ongoing struggle over what these arrangements will be. (For a discussion of the politics involved, see here but also here.) Thus those who say we should accept the verdict of the people are wrong, because a great deal is still to play for.

Yet circumstances are far from normal, and there seems little ground for optimism. Our new Prime Minister - who was as complicit in the sham targets for immigration as Cameron and Osborne - has appointed those who supported Leave to handle negotiations. She knows that the only way she can unite her party is to end free movement and therefore leave the single market.

Worse still, the government will do whatever it wants to do when it comes to the type of Brexit we have. Our official opposition will, if the polls are right, be the same opposition that was both ineffective and conflicted in the Brexit campaign, preoccupied as it will almost certainly be with cleansing the PLP rather than the details of trade arrangements. There is no alternative opposition with any strength. The SNP cannot speak for the rest of the UK, and anyway will be focused on trying (and probably failing) to drum up enough support for independence. As a result the 48% or more who did not want an end to the single market will not be able to do much about it. I fear that if you want a vision of what Britain after Brexit will become, you just need to look in the pages of the newspapers that were a vital part in bringing Brexit about.

[1] My impression was that discussion on broadcast news programmes, which is the main source many people have to unbiased news coverage, or even the debates never got to this point. We had someone from Remain saying trade with Europe would suffer, and someone from Leave saying we would be ‘free’ to trade with other countries. You do not need the Treasury’s gravity equations to make this simple point about geography and trade, but you need to go a little beyond soundbites.

[2] A similar point can be made about nationalism, which is hard to combat and may be a symptom rather than a cause.

[3] Rodrik, D. (1998), "Why do More Open Economies Have Bigger Governments?" Journal of Political Economy 106(5): 997-1032

[4] None of this was hard to see before the last general election. Those who in 2015 voted Conservative but also wanted to Remain need to ask why they took no notice of the warnings that some of us made. Those ‘business leaders’ who seemed to unanimously endorse Cameron need to ask, or be asked, why they were gambling with their company’s future in doing so.

[5] Part of the problem is that Leave voters tended not to trust anyone. This, by Jean Pisani-Ferry, is good on experts and trust.

Brexit and Democracy

Ambrose Evans-Pritchard writes eloquently and honestly about why he will be voting for the UK to leave the EU. Honestly because he gives chapter and verse on how “anybody who claims that Britain can lightly disengage after 43 years enmeshed in EU affairs is a charlatan or a dreamer.” His argument to nevertheless Leave is straightforward:

“it comes down to an elemental choice: whether to restore the full self-government of this nation, or to continue living under a higher supranational regime, ruled by a European Council that we do not elect in any meaningful sense, and that the British people can never remove, even when it persists in error.”

Although he does attack the Commission “with quasi-executive powers that operates more like the priesthood of the 13th Century papacy than a modern civil service”, and although he talks about the European Court of Justice on which I have no expertise, most words are spent denouncing those that created the Euro, and here I have some knowledge. He writes

“Nobody has ever been held to account for the design faults and hubris of the euro, or for the monetary and fiscal contraction that turned recession into depression, and led to levels of youth unemployment across a large arc of Europe that nobody would have thought possible or tolerable in a modern civilized society. … We do not know who exactly was responsible for anything because power was exercised through a shadowy interplay of elites in Berlin, Frankfurt, Brussels, and Paris, and still is.”

Is this really the case? We know that the push for a monetary union came from France in particular. Germany was less enthusiastic, and therefore demanded as a price some central control of national budgets because they feared that a profligate government could cause systemic problems. When those fears proved correct, they doubled down on that central control and also believed a union wide demonstration of austerity was required. I strongly disagree with all of this, and have thought a lot about why it happened, but a lack of democracy is not high on my list of culprits. After all the Eurozone did not cause austerity to happen in the UK and US.

The fact that democracy was overridden in Greece so cruelly was not the result of actions of unelected bureaucrats, but of elected finance ministers from the other union countries. One reason these finance ministers refused to write off any debt was because of pressure from their own electorates. This exercise in raw political power worked because the Greek people wanted to stay in the Euro. The ‘bad equilibrium’ Evans-Pritchard talks about happens in part because of democracy. The lesson I would draw is that union governments should not lend money directly to other union governments, precisely because governments are democratic and so find it hard to accept write-offs.

Dani Rodrik talks about an impossible trilemma: how you cannot have all three of ‘hyper globalisation’, national sovereignty and democracy. The key question is whether you can find acceptable arrangements that partially limit each of these rather than abandoning one altogether. That is a tricky issue of design, and it is clear that the Eurozone has not succeeded so far. Too many assume that this failure condemns all attempts at monetary union, and that the only way forward is full political union. If that is what is meant by saying there is no chance of a democratic Europe anytime soon I agree, but I think that form of democracy was always a step too far too soon.

There is no shortage of ideas of how the Eurozone could be improved that fall well short of political union. It is simply not the case that you can only have one monetary union design, so you cannot reject the whole concept based on one failed experiment. It is quite possible that in the short term Germany or others may block reform, but it is far from obvious why Germany or others should prevent reform in the longer term. Germany does not want to repeat what happened in Greece.

Above all this, there is a fundamental point. The Eurozone as it currently stands is not immutable, or inevitably dying, or some kind of monster that is bound to ensnare the UK or bring it down. If the Eurozone did become one of these things, we can always exercise our option to leave. In contrast, once we leave, it will be a long time before we can change our minds.

Why the political centre needs to be radical

In a recent article on Tony Blair, George Eaton wrote:

“[Blair] said of Corbyn’s supporters: “It’s clear they can take over a political party. What’s not clear to me is whether they can take over a country.” It was Blair’s insufficient devotion to the former task that enabled the revival of the left. As Alastair Campbell recently acknowledged: “We failed to develop talent, failed to cement organisational and cultural change in the party and failed to secure our legacy.” Rather than effecting a permanent realignment, as the right of the party hoped and the left feared, New Labour failed to outlive its creators.”

I beg to differ. The rise of Jeremy Corbyn is not a result of Blair failing to “cement .. cultural change in the party”. It is a result of the financial crisis, of everything that has followed from that, and the centre’s failure to offer a radical response to that momentous event.

Echos of the financial crisis are everywhere for those that care to listen. Even in the EU referendum, which at first sight is about free trade areas and sovereignty. The main reason Brexit has such wide popular support is concern over immigration, and that in turn is driven by a belief that immigration reduces real wages and puts pressure on public services. Yet the main reason public services are under pressure is austerity, which in turn was a reaction to the financial crisis. Immigration improves the public finances. The main reason for the decline in real take home pay for the low paid is not immigration but stagnant productivity following the financial crisis (and increasingly austerity measures).

The financial crisis was a major event not just in its consequences, but because it raised crucial questions about our current economic system. For most on the political right that question was too threatening to contemplate, so they doubled down by reducing the size of the state using deficit deceit as a means. But as many people did not want less spent on the things the state does, and a smaller state did nothing to immediately inspire the private sector, that only intensified popular frustration with the economic status quo.

Rescuing the banks should have been a prelude to radical reform of the financial sector, yet the centre only seemed to be concerned with putting the pieces back together again and making minor changes that are very vulnerable to being unravelled by political pressure from the banks. In many countries the centre seems paralysed by the glare of populism, whether that populism is used by governments (austerity) or the far right.

For the UK’s centre-left this paralysis comes in a particular form called ‘electability’. Radical policies almost by definition upset the status quo, who will attempt to frame such policies as anti-business or anti-aspiration. If electability becomes synonymous with avoiding anything that might be framed in this way, that rules out radical solutions. Yet radical events or profound changes in society and the economy may well require radical solutions, and if the centre avoids them they let people like Donald Trump or Boris Johnson in.

In a recent article Dani Rodrik wrote about populist politics in response to the impact of inequality and globalisation, but it could equally apply to the financial crisis. The two are connected of course: it was the globalisation of finance rather than anything happening in the UK economy that destroyed UK banks.

“The appeal of populists is that they give voice to the anger of the excluded. They offer a grand narrative as well as concrete, if misleading and often dangerous, solutions. Mainstream politicians will not regain lost ground until they, too, offer serious solutions that provide room for hope. They should no longer hide behind technology or unstoppable globalization, and they must be willing to be bold and entertain large-scale reforms in the way the domestic and global economy are run.”

Economics Rules by Dani Rodrik

I didn’t want to talk about this book before I had finished it: I somehow think Noah’s contrary approach has its shortcomings! The first and most important thing to say is this is a great book. Not because it gave me some huge new insight or knowledge, although I did learn quite a bit about other parts of economics, but because it had a way of putting things which was illuminating and eminently sensible. Illuminating is I think the right word: seeing my own subject in a new light, which is something that has not happened to me for a long time. There was nothing I could think of where I disagreed (which given the book’s wide scope is quite something), and plenty where the inner blogger in me said I wish I’d written that.

So who should read it? To be honest I cannot think of anyone who should not, as I think most of the material could be understood by interested non-economists. His writing style is enviable - it seems so effortless! (That’s me as blogger again.) The people who should especially read it are those who interact with economics or economists and are either unclear or distrustful about what economists are about (other social scientists particularly).

The first part of the book sets out a way of thinking about economics, and in particular to the models that economists could not live without. The key idea is that there are many valid models, and the goal is to know when they are applicable to the problem in hand. This idea has already attracted some attention, including Noah Smith’s post I linked to earlier.

I must admit when I first read it I thought well of course, doesn’t everyone understand that? I remember way back when I did my undergraduate degree, hearing a lecture from a young David Newbury I think, who said the days of big models (models of everything) were over in economics, and that today economists focused more on small but focused models, looking at particular problems or issues. But then as I read on I began to realise that I typically did not employ this knowledge into how I discuss the subject, which is exactly what Rodrik does. 

One area of economics that you might think this would not apply is macro, but it does. It is routine, for example, to split issues up by time: the famous short, medium and long run. A New Keynesian model is not going to tell you much about long run growth, but a Solow growth model does not tell you much about involuntary unemployment. The point here is not that an all encompassing model could not be built - it could, and sometimes individuals or institutions try to do that - but if it was it would be unwieldy, and we would want to break it up in our minds to understand how it works. (I used a related idea of ‘theoretical deconstruction’ in an EJ paper some time ago.) An important point that follows from that is that although we work with different models, it is important that we know how they interconnect, or at least how they relate to each other.  

Rodrik spends a good part of the book describing how you ‘navigate among models’. He warns that these methods are as much a craft as a science. Many have picked up on that, presuming that this is something that a proper science would not do. But as I have often said, the best analogies for economics are with medicine rather than physics. When a doctor diagnoses an illness based on symptoms, they could also be said to be using craft rather than science.

Let me give you a simple example from macro. How do we know if most economic cycles are described by Real Business Cycles (RBC) or Keynesian dynamics. One big clue is layoffs: if employment is falling because workers are choosing not to work we could have an RBC mechanism, but if workers are being laid off (and are deeply unhappy about it) this is more characteristic of a Keynesian downturn. This simple test beats any amount of formal econometric comparison. Craft maybe, but not a very difficult craft in this case.    

Lots of people get hung up on the assumptions behind models: are they true or false, etc. An analogy I had not seen before but which I think is very illuminating is with experiments. Models are like experiments. Experiments are designed to abstract from all kinds of features of the real world, to focus on a particular process or mechanism (or set of the same). The assumptions of models are designed to do the same thing.

Although I found that Rodrik’s discussion of how you select the right model familiar and sensible, it remains vague in the philosophical sense, as Emrah Aydinonat points out. But he also finds them instructive, so they are a work in progress that hopefully philosophers and economists can interact on. (It is worth passing on a point which Aydinonat makes, which is that unlike many economists who write about methodology, Rodrik has read the relevant literature!) Thinking about alternative models that differ in their applicability to particular problems is certainly a more insightful approach than the kind of Popperian stuff that most economists remember.

If this makes the book sound like a philosophical tome, that is quite wrong. It is a very readable account of how economists do what they do: the philosophical grounding is there but it is not intrusive, and instead the book focuses on practical examples. What Rodrik then does with this perspective of many models is to think about a lot of the issues outsiders have about economists: how ideological are they, for example. Towards the end he discusses what went wrong in the financial crisis. Once again the perspective is illuminating: there were for sure models that said a crisis should not happen, but also plenty of models around at the time that explained pretty well why it could. The mistake many economists made was to choose the wrong models, and he discusses why that might have happened. This perspective shows why a simple ‘the crisis shows economics must be flawed’ misses the point.

Hopefully that is enough to make you read this book.  

Is mainstream academic macroeconomics eclectic?

For economists, and those interested in macroeconomics as a discipline

Eric Lonergan has a short little post that is well worth reading. Not because it is particularly deep or profound, but because it makes an important point in a clear and simple way that cuts through a lot of the nonsense written on macroeconomics nowadays. The big models/schools of thought are not right or wrong, they are just more or less applicable to different situations. You need New Keynesian models in recessions, but Real Business Cycle models may describe some inflation free booms. You need Minsky in a financial crisis, and in order to prevent the next one. As Dani Rodrik says, there are many models, and the key questions are about their applicability.

If we take that as given, the question I want to ask is whether current mainstream academic macroeconomics is also eclectic. (My original title for this post was can DSGE models be eclectic, but that got sidetracked into definitional issues, but from the way I tend to define things it is the same question.) My answer is yes and no.

Let’s take the five ‘schools’ that Eric talks about. We clearly already have three: New Keynesian, Classical, and Rational Expectations. (Rational Expectations is not normally thought of in the same terms, but I understand why Eric wanted to single it out.) There is currently a huge research programme which aims to incorporate the financial sector, and (sometimes) the potential for financial crises, into DSGE analysis, so soon we may have Minsky too. Indeed the variety of models that academic macro currently uses is far wider than this.

Does this mean academic macroeconomics is fragmented into lots of cliques, some big and some small? Not really, in the following important sense. I think that any of this huge range of models could be presented at an academic seminar, and the audience would have some idea of what was going on, and be able raise issues and make criticisms about the model on its own terms. This is because these models (unlike those of 40+ years ago) use a common language. The idea that the academic ranking of economists like Lucas should reflect events like the financial crisis seems misconceived from this point of view.

It means that the range of assumptions that models (DSGE models if you like) can make is huge. There is nothing formally that says every model must contain perfectly competitive labour markets where the simple marginal product theory of distribution holds, or even where there is no involuntary unemployment, as some heterodox economists sometimes assert. Most of the time individuals in these models are optimising, but I know of papers in the top journals that incorporate some non-optimising agents into DSGE models. So there is no reason in principle why behavioural economics could not be incorporated. If too many academic models do appear otherwise, I think this reflects the sociology of macroeconomics and the history of macroeconomic thought more than anything (see below).

It also means that the range of issues that models (DSGE models) can address is also huge. To take just one example: the idea that the financial crisis was caused by growing inequality which led to too much borrowing by less wealthy individuals. This is the theme of a 2013 paper by Michael Kumhof and colleagues. Yet the model they use to address this issue is a standard DSGE model with some twists. There is nothing fundamentally non-mainstream about it.

So why is the popular perception so different? Why do people talk about schools of thought? I think there are two reasons. First, while the above is true in the realm of academic understanding and discourse, it does not carry over into policy. When it comes to policy, we get to learn which models academic think are applicable to particular policy problems, and here divisions can be sharp. Second, there are plenty of people outside academia who have a public voice about economics (and generally a policy orientation), and they often do see themselves as school followers.

In terms of working practice rather than the hot end of macro policy decisions, most academic macroeconomists would regard themselves as eclectic in terms of the kind of work they are prepared to spend an hour or two seeing presented. But this view, and the common language that mainstream academics use, leads me to the No part of the answer to my original question. The common theme of the work I have talked about so far is that it is microfounded. Models are built up from individual behaviour.

You may have noted that I have so far missed out one of Eric’s schools: Marxian theory. What Eric want to point out here is clear in his first sentence. “Although economists are notorious for modelling individuals as self-interested, most macroeconomists ignore the likelihood that groups also act in their self-interest.” Here I think we do have to say that mainstream macro is not eclectic. Microfoundations is all about grounding macro behaviour in the aggregate of individual behaviour.

I have many posts where I argue that this non-eclecticism in terms of excluding non-microfounded work is deeply problematic. Not so much for an inability to handle Marxian theory (I plead agnosticism on that), but in excluding the investigation of other parts of the real macroeconomic world. (Start here, or type microfoundations into this blog’s search box and work backwards in time.) But for me at least this as a methodological point, rather than anything associated with any school of thought. Attempts to link the two, which I think many people including myself have been guilty of, just confuses.

The confusion goes right back, as I will argue in a forthcoming paper, to the New Classical Counter Revolution of the 1970s and 1980s. That revolution, like most revolutions, was not eclectic! It was primarily a revolution about methodology, about arguing that all models should be microfounded, and in terms of mainstream macro it was completely successful. It also tried to link this to a revolution about policy, about overthrowing Keynesian economics, and this ultimately failed. But perhaps as a result, methodology and policy get confused. Mainstream academic macro is very eclectic in the range of policy questions it can address, and conclusions it can arrive at, but in terms of methodology it is quite the opposite.