Quote of the day

“I find economics increasingly satisfactory, and I think I am rather good at it.”– John Maynard Keynes

Saturday 24 November 2018

Lots of good Macro(n) in this:

Emmanuel Macron, the French president, presents himself internationally as a bold statesman – yet his much-needed domestic reforms are remarkable for their timidity, says Frédéric Guirinec.
Last weekend was a good one for Emmanuel Macron on the world stage. The French president’s speech at a ceremony in Paris to mark 100 years since the end of World War I, in which he warned of the dangers of nationalism, won him praise in much of the international media. His reputation as a global statesman got a significant boost – helped by the contrast with US president Donald Trump, who was mercilessly mocked for missing a memorial visit to an American military ceremony in France the previous day because it was raining too hard.
At times like this, Macron, who is just 40, often manages to look like the leader Europe – and the world – will need for the next couple of decades as German chancellor Angela Merkel comes to the end of her time in power. But domestically, it’s a very different story. Just three days before his speech, Macron was booed by workers at a Renault factory as he tried to defend his economic policies. The previous day, he was criticised for praising Marshal Pétain, the World War I general, as a “great soldier”. Pétain’s reputation was irreparably sullied when he later headed the Vichy government that collaborated with Germany in World War II. At the end of October, his decision to take a few days off for a break in Normandy led to speculation that he was burning out under the pressure of the job (rumours that seemed entirely credible given that he is reported to be an obsessive micromanager who sleeps just four hours a night). Next weekend, he faces nationwide protests that aim to bring traffic on motorways to a halt over high fuel prices.
His approval ratings are dire: just 21% of voters said they have confidence in him in one poll last week – less than François Hollande, his hapless predecessor, at the same stage of his presidency. And his En Marche party has slipped behind the far-right Rassemblement National (RN – formerly the Front National) in opinion polls for next May’s European elections. France is disenchanted and discouraged with its president, once again. So why has the new man who promised to transform a sclerotic and over-taxed French economy failed to deliver?

Meet the new boss, same as the last boss

The simple answer is that Macron, who was finance minister under Hollande, has so far continued the same policies: increasing taxes, maintaining the same eye-watering level of public spending and unsurprisingly getting the same poor economic results. The fruit never falls far from the tree. That has contributed to his collapse in popularity and the rapid departure of many of his ministers. Over the past 16 months, seven ministers have left the government including Gérard Collomb, the interior minister, last month. That departure was especially notable – Collomb was the first major supporter of Macron during his presidential campaign, so it is telling that even he has become completely disillusioned.
Admittedly, the roots of Macron’s rapid fall from grace are multiple and complex. They result in part from a deepening cultural identity crisis and nostalgia in France (as underlined by the huge success a few years ago of Le Suicide français, a book by the right-wing writer Eric Zemmour that argues that four decades of change have destroyed France) and a profound and growing distrust by the public in what they see as an arrogant and self-interested governing elite (a distrust compounded by Macron’s disastrous communication and leadership).
Meanwhile, the country has fallen in global stature, from the fourth to the seventh largest economy in the world. France is also isolated in Europe on the two major topics of the euro – where Macron wants to strengthen the eurozone through greater integration of the banking and financial system – and immigration, where he has tried to position himself as the main defender of open borders against increasingly anti-immigration parties elsewhere in Europe.

Tax, spend and regulate

To be fair, utter inconsistency in what the electorate demands also plays a role: they press for reforms to improve the economy but baulk when pensions are nearly frozen or public spending curbed, as they must be to improve the public finances. Still, finding a way to sort out the economy was considered Macron’s core competence, given that he was formerly an investment banker at Rothschild. Hence voters have become disenchanted by the continued huge tax burden, amounting to 45% of GDP, the slow pace of structural reforms and, above all, the lack of economic results.
The total tax take in 2018 is expected to reach €1.05trn, up from €1.038trn last year (the first time it passed the symbolic €1trn level), despite lower growth compared with 2017, when France benefited from the short-lived synchronised global growth. But even as tax continues to rise, the budget deficit remains stubbornly wide – France has not run a surplus since 1974 – and hence public debt is closing in on 100% of GDP. Efforts to manage the budget rather than reform it lead to short-term, trivial decisions – a controversial reduction of the speed limit on regional roads, officially to reduce accidents, is expected to generate €1.2bn in revenue through more speeding tickets.
Meanwhile, corporate leaders now doubt Macron’s capacity to unshackle the economy. French industry is suffering heavily from competition between Germany (which produces higher added-value products) and Spain and eastern Europe (which have lower costs). Locked into the eurozone, France cannot devaluate its currency to compensate for its deteriorating competitiveness. This has resulted in structural and deep trade deficits since 2003. The trade deficit amounted to €62bn in 2017, of which more than 70% is generated within the eurozone. This compares with a surplus of €250bn for Germany during the same period. This imbalance is also the result of too many French companies that are structurally too small to export – a problem that is linked to excessive taxation that make it harder for them to invest for growth in the first place. Hence some 40% of France’s exports are made by just 100 companies, such as Airbus, Dassault, LVMH, Sanofi, Renault and Peugeot.
Meanwhile, Macron has yet to deliver on many of his promises to loosen the grip of an oversized and inefficient state on the economy. The gap between theatrical speeches about a “start-up nation” and the reality is huge. Dealing with the URSAFF, the network of organisations in charge of collecting social taxes, quickly saps entrepreneurial spirits. More widely, the huge number of civil servants, at 5.5 million or nearly 20% of the working population, is broadly unchanged despite modernisation of public services that are now available online. The president complained in June that France spends “a crazy amount of dough” on welfare, yet has taken few steps that will help to solve that. The labour market is still extremely rigid and unemployment is unchanged at 9%. His only major move has been changes to working conditions and benefits for railway workers and efforts to open up the network to competition from 2023, as dictated by the European Union.

A striking lack of ambition

France recorded the lowest economic growth in Europe in the first half of 2018 at 0.4%, mainly driven by build-up of inventories. Third-quarter growth, which also came in at 0.4%, was better than many European peers, but still trailed expectations. So targeted growth of 1.5% for 2018 – steadily cut from initial forecasts of 2% – is now unrealistic given oil prices, rising bond yields and global macroeconomic headwinds. No wonder finance minister Bruno Le Maire had to admit that “our economic results are unsatisfactory compared to our European neighbours” when presenting his 2019 budget in September. So, too, are the measures proposed in his budget.
The overall budget deficit is set to reach €100bn (2.8% of GDP), meaning France will have to borrow a total of €228bn in 2019, including refinancing of maturing loans. Le Maire claims the wider deficit reflects changes to the way income tax is collected and that otherwise it would shrink to 1.9% – but with public spending at 55% of GDP, the highest level in the developed world, expectations for smaller deficits in future should be tempered. Corporate tax will be lowered from 33%, the highest in Europe, to… 32%. That’s still far off Macron’s promise of 25% (and the 19% rate in the UK). There have been some small steps in the right direction such as the flat tax of 30% on capital gains introduced last year, while proposed legislation that gathers together 70 laws covering cryptocurrencies and autonomous cars includes some pro-business elements.
But it is not an ambitious budget at this stage, and that is hard to understand since Macron has little effective opposition. The centre-left Parti Socialiste seems close to liquidation, the far left makes Jeremy Corbyn look like an unfettered capitalist, the centre-right Les Republicains are more divided than ever and the far-right RN has hardly any MPs. Trade unions, often the stumbling block to reform in France, represent only 9% of employees. So despite having a moment of opportunity, Macron continues to disappoint everyone, including pensioners, who are the most affected by tax increases, workers and commuters, public employees, councils and the corporate world.

For all his ambitions to be an international statesman, Macron is overlooking the advice of Charles de Gaulle, France’s most famous modern leader – a man he professes to admire and whose war memoirs were carefully positioned on his desk in his official photograph. “La politique la plus coûteuse, la plus ruineuse, c’est d’être petit,” wrote de Gaulle: the most expensive and ruinous policy is to be small. Macron needs to think big and pursue real reforms.

Wednesday 14 November 2018

Big movements in the oil market

This blogger covers a lot of important issues relating to the UK economy, and bearing in mind the importance of oil (and related markets) this is quite timely; the blog can be found here - https://notayesmanseconomics.wordpress.com/:

The fall in the price of crude oil is a welcome development for UK inflation

One of the problems of official statistics is that we have to wait to get them. Of course numbers have to be collected, collated and checked and in the case of inflation data it does not take that long. After all we receive October’s data today. But yesterday saw some ch-ch-changes which will impact heavily on future producer price trends as you can see below.
Oil traders’ worries over record supplies arriving in Asia just as the outlook for its key growth economies weakens have pulled down global crude benchmarks by a quarter since early October. Ship-tracking data shows a record of more than 22 million barrels per day (bpd) of crude oil hitting Asia’s main markets in November, up around 15 percent since January 2017, and an increase of nearly 5 percent since the start of this year.
Not only is supply higher but there are issues over likely demand.
China, Asia’s biggest economy, may see its first fall in car sales on record in 2018 as consumption is stifled amid a trade war between Washington and Beijing.
In Japan, the economy contracted in the third quarter, hit by natural disasters but also by a decline in exports amid the rising protectionism that is starting to take its toll on global trade.
And in India, a plunging rupee has resulted in surging import costs, including for oil, stifling purchases in one of Asia’s biggest emerging markets. India’s car sales are also set to register a fall this year.
You may note along the way that this is a bad year for the car industry as we add India to the list of countries with lower demand. But as we now look forwards supply seems to be higher partly because the restrictions on Iran are nor as severe as expected and demand lower. Does that add up to the around 7% fall in crude oil benchmarks yesterday? Well it does if we allow for the fact that it seems the market has been manipulated again.
Hedge funds and other speculative money have swiftly changed from the long to the short side.
When the bank trading desks mostly withdrew from punting this market it would seem all they did was replace others. Of course OPEC is the official rigger of this market but its effort last weekend did not cut any mustard. So we advance with Brent Crude Oil around US $66 per barrel and before we move on let us take a moment for some humour.
As recently as September and October, leading oil traders and analysts were forecasting oil prices of $90 or even $100 a barrel by year-end.
Leading or lagging?
The UK Pound £
This can be and indeed often is a powerful influence except right now as the film Snatch put it, “All bets are off!” This is because it will be bounced around in the short-term ( and who knows about the long-term) by what we might call Brexit Bingo Bongo. Personally I think the deal was done weeks and maybe months ago and that in Yes Prime Minister style the Armistice celebrations gave a perfect opportunity to settle how it would be presented to us plebs. For those who have not seen Yes Prime Minister its point was such meetings are perfect because everybody thinks you are doing something else. The issue was whether it could be got through Parliament which for now is unknown hence the likely volatility.
Producer Prices
These are the official guide to what is coming down the inflation pipeline.
The headline rate of output inflation for goods leaving the factory gate was 3.3% on the year to October 2018, up from 3.1% in September 2018. The growth rate of prices for materials and fuels used in the manufacturing process slowed to 10.0% on the year to October 2018, from 10.5% in September 2018.
Except if we now bring in what we discussed above you can see the issue at play.
Petroleum and crude oil provided the largest contribution to both the annual and monthly rates of inflation for output and input inflation respectively.
They bounce the input number around and also impact on the output series.
The monthly rate of output inflation was 0.3%, with the largest upward contribution from petroleum products (0.14 percentage points). The monthly growth for petroleum products rose by 0.5 percentage points to 2.0% in October 2018.
Actually the impact is higher than that because if we look at another influence which is chemical and pharmaceutical products they too are influenced by energy costs and the price of oil. So next month will see quite a swing the other way if oil price remain where they are. We have had a 2018 where oil prices have been well above their 2017 equivalent whereas now they are not far from level ( ~3% higher).
Inflation now
We saw a series of the same old song.
The all items CPI annual rate is 2.4%, unchanged from last month……..The all items RPI annual rate is 3.3%, unchanged from last month.
This was helped by something especially welcome to all but central bankers who of course do not partake in any non-core activities.
Food prices remain little changed since the start of 2018 and fell by 0.1% between September and October 2018 compared with a rise of 0.5% between the same
two months a year ago.
Happy days in particular if you are a fan of yoghurt and cheese. The other factor was something which an inflation geek like me will be zeroing in on.
Clothing and footwear, where prices fell between September and October 2018 but rose between
the same two months a year ago.
There is an issue of timing as we are in the Taylor Swift zone of “trouble,trouble,trouble” on that front but this area is a big issue in the inflation measurement debate. Let me look at this from a new perspective presented by Sarah O’Connor of the FT.
Online fast-fashion brands have enjoyed success catering to what Boohoo calls the “aspirational thrift” of young millennials. They sell clothes that are often made close to home so that they can be produced more quickly in response to customer trends. “Our recent evidence hearing raised alarm bells about the fast-growing online-only retail sector,” said Mary Creagh, the committee’s chair. “Low-quality £5 dresses aimed at young people are said to be made by workers on illegally low wages and are discarded almost instantly, causing mountains of non-recycled waste to pile up.”
This is a direct view on the area of fast and often disposable fashion which is one of the problem areas of UK inflation measurement. There are issues here of poverty wages and recycling. But the inability of our official statisticians to keep up with this area is a large component of the gap between CPI and RPI, otherwise known as the “formula effect”.
Comment
The fall in the price of crude oil is a very welcome development for the trajectory of UK inflation. Should it be sustained then we may yet see UK inflation fall back to its target of 2% per annum. For example the price of fuel at the pump is some 10 pence per litre higher than a year ago for petrol and 14 pence per litre higher than a year ago for diesel, so the drop is not in the price yet. That may rule out an influence for November’s figures but we could see an impact in December. Other prices will be influenced too although probably not domestic energy costs which for other reasons only seem to go up. But as we looked at yesterday the development would be good for real wages where we scrabble for every decimal point.
Meanwhile I have left the “most comprehensive” measure of inflation to last which is what it deserves. This is because the CPIH measure ignores a well understood and real price – what you pay for a house – which is rising at an annual rate of 3.5% and replaces it with Imputed Rents which are never paid to get this.
The OOH component annual rate is 1.1%, up from 1.0% last month.
But I do not need to go on because the body that has pushed for this which is Her Majesty’s Treasury which plans to save a fortune by using it may be having second thoughts if it’s media output is any guide.

Friday 9 November 2018

Brexit & Productivity - serendipity?

Brexit has plenty of unexpected bonuses

We’re tackling problems like poor productivity thanks to our imminent departure from the EU
Why does Brexit make so many people so cross? The more you think about it, the odder it is. Leaving the EU is not Iraq or Vietnam. Nobody will be killed by Brexit, except perhaps those who are bored to death by it.
For all the adjectives you could use to describe Brexit — confounding, frustrating, momentous and historic — it is, above all, desperately boring. I’m talking not just about the endless soap opera of negotiations, though that’s up there with the collected works of Thomas Hardy in the boredom stakes. Brexit is boring because it turns out the European Union itself is mostly boring.
Consider the powers that will be returned to Westminster after we finally leave: to negotiate trade deals with other countries; to impose tariffs; to introduce new regulations on employment and product standards; to set quotas for migration and visas. For the past four decades the EU has functioned in large part as a legislative black hole into which we have outsourced some of the more tedious levers of the state.
Yes this stuff matters, in much the same boring but worthy way that it matters what diameter of sewage pipes we use. In some sectors, such as agriculture, Brexit has the potential for exciting innovations. But consider the most important powers at the government’s disposal: defence of the realm, fixing levels of tax and public spending, managing the welfare state and deciding interest rate policy. Set against this it is hard not to find the powers returned from Brussels rather piffling.
True: you can make the case that big constitutional decisions should be taken at home. You can argue that throwing sand into the wheels of trade between Britain and Europe will only make both of us poorer. You can point to the possibility that Britain leaves without a deal, something that would not be boring in the slightest, at least for a few months. Except that the likelihood of it happening is far smaller than you might assume. It suits everyone concerned, for all sorts of reasons, to ramp up the drama.
The most likely outcome is no big deal, rather than no deal at all. Whatever the nature of our transition period, the long-term impact of Brexit will probably be smaller than you think. The degree of extra sovereignty Britain gains on leaving will be minimal. The degree of economic damage directly attributable to leaving will be similar: a couple of percentage points off gross domestic product over the long run. Ten years hence we may look back and realise that this was the moment we became moderately poorer, but there will be no big bang.
These are unfashionable views, especially given that every ounce of energy in Whitehall and much reporting in the media is being expended on Brexit. How tragic to think we might have wasted nearly three years tearing the country apart, ruining the careers of some of our ablest politicians and consigning several pressing economic problems to the backburner for something which will make little difference to Britain’s productive potential.
Of course, this is slightly to miss the point. Brexit is all-consuming not because of what it is but because of what it stands for: a break with the past and a controversy magnet that attracts and repels those who value cosmopolitanism and those who think national identity has been eroded. But in some respects it has also been very good for us.
For the past decade, economists have moaned about three problems in particular: a productivity crisis, austerity and the dominance of London over the rest of the country. Guess what: since the referendum in 2016, huge strides have been made to address each of these challenges.
Productivity is rising again, though it is too early to say whether this will be sustained, let alone whether it has anything to do with Brexit. And much as economists might dislike the end of free movement of people, depriving Britain of limitless cheap labour from the Continent might finally force our notoriously parsimonious businesses into investing more in robots and programmes to increase their staff’s productivity. Then again, free movement has not prevented the Germans from investing, so we shall have to see.
Then there’s the government’s spending plans. For all the fanfare when Theresa May announced the end of austerity last month, in reality it has been on its way out since just after the Brexit vote. Our departure from the EU was the excuse Philip Hammond needed to postpone George Osborne’s plan to eliminate the deficit, perhaps indefinitely. It is hard to conceive of any other event which could have given the Tories the political cover to make such a dramatic shift while remaining in government.
And having dominated the property market and the GDP figures for years, London is now the country’s great laggard. House prices are falling faster in the capital than anywhere else in Britain. The financial sector has shrunk. True: banks have been beleaguered for a decade and the property market is suffering partly because of higher stamp duty and more stringent capital gains tax for high-end properties. But Brexit has probably exacerbated these trends.
Few economists seem to have noticed. Consumed with fury about Brexit, they have failed to recognise that it has unleashed all sorts of genies which are changing the economy. Brexit may be boring, but the journey it is taking us on is not.
Ed Conway is economics editor of Sky News

Tuesday 6 November 2018

UK housing market an oligopoly?

Housebuilding has become an oligopoly that distorts the market

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What follows may sound completely ludicrous, and so it should. Persimmon, the country’s largest housebuilder, has a strong claim to be Britain’s Google. No, Persimmon has not developed a world-changing algorithm. It is not experimenting with new technologies. Its business ethic is not to solve problems first and work out how to monetise them later. Persimmon lays bricks and runs copper pipes under floors, just as housebuilders have done for ever.
So what does it have in common with the world’s digital pioneer? The answer is in the accounts. Last year Persimmon reported an operating profit margin of 28.2 per cent and had £1.3 billion of cash. Alphabet, Google’s parent company, managed a margin of 24 per cent and had $100 billion of cash. The similarities go on. Jeff Fairburn, chief executive of Persimmon, pocketed £75 million while Sundar Pichai, Google’s boss, made roughly £270 million.
It doesn’t take a software engineer to see something is wrong with that picture. Housebuilding is not complicated. Builders buy land, secure planning permissions, put up a few boxes and flog them. It’s been done for hundreds of years. There should be zero barriers to entry. Instead, the accounts resemble those of the oligopolistic tech giants — complete with offensive bonuses.
With a cost of capital starting around 5 per cent and margins around 20 per cent, builders today are money-printing machines. Choosing to invest in Google or Persimmon, on these metrics, would be tough. Or perhaps not. Competition regulators are going after big tech but no one gives two hoots about the builders.
Last week they were let off the hook again. Sir Oliver Letwin’s “review of build out” rejected claims that they were causing “intentional delay” to prop up prices, despite its finding that build rates are just 6.5 per cent of a site a year. Development is slow, the former Tory minister concluded, due to the “homogeneity of the tenures on offer”. In other words, builders choose to build expensive homes and develop them no faster than the demand for that limited product can absorb. It may not technically be land-banking, but it is rationing by price selection.
Sir Oliver’s remedy is to require a mix of build-to-rent, shared ownership and affordable housing. Broader appeal would generate more demand and thereby speed up supply, he argued. To ensure diversity, and prevent builders erecting premium houses where smaller homes are needed, local authorities should cap the development value of big sites at ten times “existing use value”.
It’s a clever proposal but the bureaucracy may play into big builders’ hands. Small firms don’t have the pockets to absorb the costs of our arcane planning system. So much so, they have been dying off. In the 1980s, 10,000 small builders produced 57 per cent of new homes. Today, 2,800 produce 27 per cent.
A more frank assessment than Sir Oliver’s would be that the housebuilding market has been stitched up since the consolidation of the early 2000s. Mergers concentrated power with the big nine, who used land acquisition efficiencies to lift profits while cutting supply. As planning grew more complicated, and big builders trapped sites under option in their “strategic” land banks, smaller developers found it harder to compete.
Today the big builders are the only game in town and, as Sir Oliver acknowledged, the only way to increase supply is to play their game and raise demand. Hence Help-to-Buy, a subsidised mortgage scheme to attract buyers. Yet, as the Google-type returns attest, the ultimate beneficiaries have been the builders. There is nothing sophisticated going on here. Housebuilding is a plain old oligopoly protected by a backwards planning system that raises barriers to entry, and needs to be shaken up.
Philip Aldrick is Economics Editor of The Times

Monday 5 November 2018

Supply-side - can you cut red tape?

In opposition — or as they first enter government — it is common for politicians to promise to tackle unpopular, burdensome and expensive rules. When the coalition government came to power in 2010, then deputy prime minister Nick Clegg promised a Great Repeal Bill. Grand claims had been made about this being an opportunity to “renew Britain”. In office, however, the initiative made little headway. Similarly, David Cameron launched a challenge to generate proposals for the removal of red tape on a sector-by-sector basis. Its results were similarly feeble. 
Other efforts to stem the tide of regulation include the “one in, one out” approach, the idea being that any department proposing a new law needed to find one of at least equal cost that it was willing to repeal. This may have done something to prevent the flow of new legislation, but it now appears to have been abandoned.
Any serious effort to deregulate comes up against several challenges, all of which are difficult to overcome without an abundance of political will.
First, the precise costs of any given regulation are fiendishly difficult to quantify. Increasing a tax on a particular product or service is transparent and easy to measure. If you increase beer duty by 5p you can be sure that the price of a pint will rise as a consequence. But if you bring in new rules about, say, the required levels of cleanliness in a pub or the processes by which a landlord must verify the age or level of intoxication of a potential customer, these costs are rather vaguer.
This makes them no less real, just much harder to precisely point at. Legislators and bureaucrats are much more likely to embrace proposals where the exact financial impact is unclear and nebulous than those where a direct cause and effect in rising prices can be easily shown.
Second, the Whitehall machine is geared to passing laws rather than scrapping them. Campaigning politicians and imaginative bureaucrats are hardwired to finding new problems, whether real or perceived, and concocting solutions to them. Looking through swathes of previous legislative solutions to problems that may no longer exist and then advocating their repeal is not a route to civil service advancement or acclaim in the national media.
Third, the total quantum and diversity of regulation is such that the removal of any specific rule is unlikely to be a game-changer. The process of state regulation can be likened to standing by the side of a river and continually throwing pebbles into the water. Throwing in — or extracting — one stone is not going to have any discernible impact on the flow of the river. However, over time if you are tossing in more pebbles than you are removing, you are slowly constructing a dam. Regulation has a similar impact on economic growth and productivity gains; it grindingly reduces them to a trickle and requires a sizable one-off effort, rather than tiny incremental changes, to correct matters.
The advent of Brexit provides such an opportunity for a major reboot of Britain’s regulatory landscape. This needn’t mean that we throw aside an entire body of rules relating to product safety, employment rights or environmental standards. However, it surely presents a chance to question whether the laws we are inheriting after decades of EU membership are perfectly crafted to achieve desirable outcomes. There should be no presumption that they are.
The present approach of the government is to incorporate the totality of single market regulation into British statute to provide certainty for businesses. Little or no thought appears to have been given to how to go through the rulebook and rescind, alter, amend or reframe any of this legislation to make it work better for the modern economy. Loathe as I am to miss an opportunity to close down a branch of Whitehall, perhaps a case could be made for keeping the Department for Exiting the European Union in existence after our departure with the sole remit of seeking to lower the burden of red tape we have steadily accumulated. This could mean reconsidering whether it should be legal for female drivers to secure lower insurance premiums given their better safety record. We could look again at whether regulations such as MIFID and Solvency II are the best way of regulating the financial sector. The British government opposed the Agency Workers Directive, so is there really a case for retaining it when no longer obliged to?
To reconnect with a disillusioned electorate, it may be that politicians are wise to focus on rescinding some laws rather than always generating them. A carefully controlled bonfire of red tape post-Brexit could achieve that. It would certainly justify a celebratory fireworks display if our politicians have the courage to carry it out.
Mark Littlewood is director-general of the Institute of Economic Affairs. Twitter: @MarkJLittlewood

Friday 2 November 2018

ESSENTIAL READING!!!

This is chock-full of relevant arguments, in an easily-digestible package. I'm definitely going to read the book. You can extract at least four or five key things to carry into the exam, whether it be immigration or trade surpluses. Read and connect:

The real threat to our global economic and political order

Berlin Wall, 1989 © Getty images
Everything seemed so simple after the Berlin wall fell
Economics and history didn’t end with the fall of communism after all. TS Lombard’s Charles Dumas tells Merryn Somerset Webb where they’re going next.
Twenty five years ago, it was perfectly standard to think that the multi-millennium struggle to work out how best to run society had come to an end – witness The End of History by Francis Fukuyama, published in 1992 . The collapse of communism left the US as the world’s sole super power and, as Charles Dumas says in his book Populism and Economics, appeared to make it clear that “a blend of capitalism and democracy” was the ideal political and social system. Globalisation – a fast rise in the free flow of goods, capital and people around the world – followed, as did a stunning hi-tech revolution, and for a time all seemed well.
Then it suddenly went less well. Only a few decades later came the worst financial and economic crisis since the 1930s. Today it is perfectly clear that the struggle is no more over than it was in 1989. So what went wrong? And what next? Dumas’s answer is worth listening to. It comes down, he says, to a mix of four key elements: globalisation, technology, demography and financial imbalances, with the latter being the key to understanding the crisis itself.

The burgeoning global labour market

The better understood part of the story starts in the early 1990s as communism fell and China turned back to the world after the trauma of Tiananmen Square. This effectively “tripled or quadrupled” the global work force as three billion extra people entered the global economy, but they were almost all “prepared to work for wages far below the norm for western companies.” That in turn gave us lower overall wages, a much lower level of capital assets per worker, and a fast rise in profits as labour costs slid.
In a totally free global economy this would all have worked itself out reasonably quickly. But we don’t have a totally free global economy, particularly when it comes to labour. In the 1990s workers couldn’t simply move anywhere in the world to bump up their income and the UK, Ireland and Sweden aside, even the EU has only really had free movement of labour since 2011.
The result then was not a shift in workers to high-wage economies but a shift in “amoral and culturally neutral” capital to low-wage economies in order for a rising proportion of global production to be done – cheaply – by the new entrants to the global economy. This round of globalisation has manifested itself mostly in a huge rise in export growth from developing economies – “most spectacularly China” – and a corresponding fall in wage growth in developed economies (one of the main drivers of what we now call populism).
Emerging markets have exported a lot more than they have imported and the rest of us, apart from aggressively mercantilist Germany and Japan, have done the opposite. This dynamic has in turn given us what Ben Bernanke identified back in 2004 as the “savings glut.” Money has piled up in these exporting economies, leading to an excess of savings over investment, something that causes nasty imbalances in the global economy (those excess savings often end up invested in US Treasuries for example, something that pushes yields down and asset prices up).
The consequences of all this are complicated to unravel and not entirely uncontroversial. But one of the key points for now is that for every surplus there is a deficit and, with President Donald Trump having noticed where they come from – the US trade deficit hit all time highs with China and the EU over the summer. His reaction to those deficits is beginning to threaten the world of free trade we have all become used to. Trump does not like America’s trade deficit. China he says, is “robbing us blind..and stealing our jobs.”

From China to Europe

So what’s to be done? One interesting point here, says Dumas, is that the over the last few years the “Chinese surplus has almost disappeared.” If you are looking for the savings glut “it is no longer in China”. Instead it is almost all in Germany or “German-centred Europe”, in which Dumas includes Scandinavia, Benelux, Switzerland and Austria. Add them all up and they have a surplus of not far short of $700 bn. That’s huge: “more than 8% of GDP in Germany itself.”
Why does that matter? Because the result is massive capital inflows into the debtor countries such as the UK, something that has driven up our currency and made us even less competitive, says Dumas. It’s all “very nice for London and not so nice for the industrial zones of the north, the midlands and Wales”, as might have been reflected in the Brexit vote.
So the fall in the pound since our Brexit vote should be seen as good news? It was at least the point at which “quite a lot of people said, oh, wait a second, I’m not putting that money (into the UK) anymore” and the one at which our current account deficit started to fall. The OECD, an association of developed countries, expects it to be 3% of GDP this year against 6% two years ago.
So hooray for Brexit then? Dumas is a tad more cautious than that: “I think it has produced to some degree, coincidentally, a needed rebalancing…Remainers may think that those who voted for Brexit are shooting themselves in the foot. But the reality of the matter is that jobs will tend to shift towards industrial zones, which means that those people will actually not do worse. And in addition, if there is eventually – certainly there’s no sign of it – some restriction on immigration, that presumably takes away some of the downward pressure on wages at the low end of the scale.”
That’s an unconventional opinion, albeit one I share. The UK has seen two huge waves of immigration from eastern Europe – firstly when we opened our borders to all newcomers to the EU in 2004 (few other EU countries did this) and secondly in the wake of the European financial crisis when we became the employer of the last resort for the Mediterranean countries. Common sense might tell you that an influx of low-skilled labour on this scale would hold wages down. But the establishment has nonetheless continued to insist that it has not.

The immigration debate

That, says Dumas, is because they rely on a Bank of England study on the matter by Steve Nickell and Jumana Saleheen. Their work found evidence of only a very small impact on wages – and really only on already low wages. But the problem here says Dumas, is that the study does not allow for the lack of investment that a ready supply of cheap labour encourages. We haven’t trained nurses for example. We have imported them.
And we haven’t invested in robotics in the same say other economies have (if we had we wouldn’t be worrying so much about who will pick the fruit post Brexit – “there are perfectly good robots that can pick fruit”). Instead of investing in capital of any kind (human or not) we have just thrown more cheap labour at any problem – something actively encouraged by our tax credit system (which tops up low wages with cash welfare payments). The upshot is that productivity and wages stay low.
Leave out this rather vital part of the equation and any study is “inherently incapable of capturing a long-run tendency to depress wages at the lower end.” England is now more densely populated than the Netherlands, says Dumas. If low-wage immigration doesn’t help the economy “how much more do we really want?” None of this is to say that there aren’t perfectly good arguments for Remain as well as Leave, says Dumas (he outlines these in the book). But overall it does seem that “the consequences of Brexit are largely misunderstood and, you know, that it may well be that in [the] short term, there’s not very much effect at all” on growth.

Solving the savings glut

We go back to the savings glut. If China is no longer the real problem but Germany is, what needs to happen? There are two possible solutions, says Dumas. Italy, which hasn’t the devaluation options open to the UK, could leave the eurozone. It insists that it won’t and the French wouldn’t be very keen on the move because “the pressure would then move on to France”.
This would clearly push the euro up and hence German competitiveness down. However, this isn’t likely “in the near term.” The other solution is that the “Germans step up to the plate and say, yes, well, we’ve had all this catalyst benefit from the euro and we’re going to pay for it now” – think fiscal union. There is very little appetite for this either (particularly in Germany).
No solution then? None, says Dumas. Or at least none until Trump gets it, swings his big guns around to Germany and says “we’re going to penalise you guys until you do something about it”. One way or another the euro is going “way higher”. A region that is in “perfectly healthy condition” has no need to have negative real interest rates and shouldn’t have them. All these cans have been kicked down the road for years. But the interesting thing about Trump is that “he isn’t very tolerant of this kind of thing”.
He’s a “genuine maverick character”. He could be the catalyst for real change by forcing it. So could Italy, by recognising the disaster the euro has been for them and leaving, and so could Germany (by paying up). But, concludes Dumas in his book, as long as Europe works to preserve the status quo rather than to propose useful change, the “sad consequence” could be that the current promising world advance could well be cut off by a breakdown in globalisation.

Who is Charles Dumas?

Charles DumasCharles Dumas is chief economist at TS Lombard, which provides asset managers, banks and companies with macroeconomic, political and policy analysis. Dumas’s previous books are The Bill from the China Shop (2006), which anticipated the financial crisis, Globalisation Fractures (2010) and The American Phoenix (2011).
I have barely scratched the surface of his thoughts in this piece and strongly recommend reading his most recent book Populism and Economics to get a real sense of why today’s imbalances threaten our political and economic order.

Part Economics, part career information - public sector salaries

Great example of "spotting the hidden". In the long term, what is a gold-plated pension worth? Apart from the fact it pokes fun at Robert Peston (bless him, the author of WTF! [on my bookshelf...]), it shows you, as economists, that just looking at headlines leads to incorrect assumptions:

Don't write off the public sector

There is a widespread view of the job market which goes something like this. Tech, finance and other blue-chip industries pay such lucrative salaries that qualified graduates seeking a lifetime of high earnings wouldn't think of looking anywhere else. Especially not the government.
The latest example of this mantra comes from the journalist Robert Peston, who yesterday pointed to the gap between public sector salaries and those from the most prestigious private sector employers, as part of an argument about the career path to becoming a diplomat:
The argument that “rational” graduates concerned with financial security would automatically aim for these sectors, rather than the public sector, has a few things going for it, especially when it comes to the housing ladder. But it misses one crucial detail.
That detail is pensions.
Facebook and Google both offer their employees defined contribution pension schemes in the UK. For those unfamiliar with the terminology, schemes of this kind are simply savings from earnings, topped up by employer contributions, and invested in some mixture of equities, bonds and other asset classes.
These schemes contrast with defined benefit pension schemes, where payments are made in return for a guaranteed lifetime income in retirement. In the UK over the past few decades, these schemes have been mostly phased out of the private sector due to their costs (except for legacy members). But not the public sector.
If you start working at the civil service today, you get a defined benefit pension. According to the current scheme, Alpha, your retirement income increases by 2.32 per cent of your pensionable earnings each year. The contributions vary depending on salary, but they are all below 10 per cent of annual income. You have access to the pension you have built up at whichever is older - 65, or the state pension age.
It's worth going over some back of the envelope calculations showing just how generous this retirement income is.
Let's assume that a civil servant earns £40,000 every year over 40 years. For the moment, we'll ignore inflation and pay rises over the working period (obviously earnings would be lower earlier on, and higher later on). Upon retirement, he or she would have accrued an annual income of £37,120, which would rise with inflation thereafter.
To come close to this kind of retirement income, savings in a defined pension contribution scheme would need to be enormous — a significant proportion of overall earnings — even without the inflation linking. The contributions from a salary of £100,000 (assuming 5 per cent contributions matched by the employer, for a total of 10 per cent), over the same period, would not come close.
It is true that defined contribution savings would be invested in financial markets, and if markets provided significant returns above inflation, then the size of the private retirement income would increase. But this is not a good argument in favour of the attractiveness of defined benefit contribution pensions. It simply illustrates their high level of dependency on market performance. Confidence in the vast uncertainties around this performance tend to be unjustifiably based on postwar historical trends, rather than meaningful estimations about the future state of the world.
The civil service pension is not directly exposed to markets. Instead, the savers' exposure is to the UK government; the risks are sovereign default, or extraordinary retrospective legislative shifts that would necessitate a broader repudiation of legal norms. It's worth asking yourself which exposure you'd prefer — this, or a diversified basket of financial securities — if push came to shove.
The final thing to consider is the duration risk of employment. There is clearly some threshold at which private sector earnings more than compensate for the absence of a defined benefit pension. Once pension pots are factored in, employees at prestigious firms are probably still significantly ahead, especially if stock options or bonuses are included.
However, the long-term viability of a lucrative salary at a private sector company is exposed to more risks than the long-term viability of employment in the civil service. It is easier to imagine any number of prestigious private sector companies going out of existence, as they already have done, than it is the civil service.
While it might in many cases seem true that a lucrative private sector job implies higher lifetime earnings including pensions, this is likely to bring with it additional risk. On a risk-adjusted basis, it is not clear cut which sectors' earnings are more lucrative. If working hours, rather than years, are used to make the comparison, that will tend to weaken the private sector's claim further.
Taken all together, the widespread practice of comparing private and public labour markets on the basis of present-day salaries, with minimal attention to either the duration risk of employment or the post-employment generosity of pension benefits, is misleading. The power of a defined benefit pension is common knowledge for anyone above a certain age, and barely acknowledged by anyone below a certain age.
This informational deficit gives rise to a kind of generational arbitrage opportunity. The most astute graduates would seek to exploit that, rather than blindly follow the crowd.