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Problems Making the Case for the Market: Good Intentions
or Good Results
Remarks before the Acton Institute's 2002 Annual Dinner
Grand Rapids, Michigan
Oct. 22, 2002
Ever since I was invited to speak
here tonight, I’ve been
wondering what a backsliding Southern Baptist from the foothills
of North Georgia has to say to an Acton Institute audience.
Father Sirico gave the speech
I should give over eight years ago at the Dallas Fed. His
topic was "Examining the
Moral Dimensions of Monetary Policy." He pointed out
that not only is inflation bad in the economic sense but
that permitting inflation to erode the value of our money
is essentially immoral.
Too many good people—because they are good people, they
think—believe that a moral monetary policy is necessarily
an easy money policy. They call for more money and more credit
and mistakenly believe that the Treasury’s printing press
is the key to earthly salvation. They are subject to what
I’ll discuss later as the fallacy of composition. In making
his case for the immorality of inflation, Father Sirico cited
chapter and verse–literally.
Henry Wallich, a former Fed governor,
also discussed the immorality of inflation in a 1978 commencement
address. He
titled his speech "Honest Money," and cited the "breakdown
in our standards of measuring economic values as a consequence
of inflation." He pointed out that "inflation introduces
an element of deceit into most of our economic dealings.
Everybody makes contracts knowing perfectly well that they
will not be kept in terms of constant values," a "condition
that is hard to reconcile with simple honesty."
He said inflation is a means by which the strong exploit
the weak. He might have added that inflation also hurts the
poor more than the rich and minorities more than the majority.
I combined Henry Wallich’s commencement address and Father
Sirico’s remarks at the Dallas Fed, added my own introduction,
and inaugurated a new Dallas Fed publication called Economic
Insights, which you may find, among other good things,
on our web site, www.dallasfed.org.
Father Sirico helped start something in vol. 1 no. 1 of Economic
Insights that he probably didn’t know about. As Martha
Stewart might have said in happier times, "It’s a good
thing."
I’m happy to report to you tonight that the evils of inflation
are greatly diminished, as we’ve made considerable progress
reducing inflation in recent years. Inflation is low and
is poised to go lower, given the slack in the economy, the
sluggish recovery and continued productivity growth.
Have we finally achieved price
stability? Not quite, but we’re getting close. So close in fact that some people worry
that our disinflation could turn into deflation. As Scarlett
O’Hara used to say, I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
Before I started thinking about
tonight’s remarks, I would
have denied thinking about economic issues in a moral context.
But since I’ve always felt free to offer my views on good
vs. bad economic policies, I must have had some implicit
moral or ethical basis for making those distinctions. Since
a Pareto optimum is probably unattainable, the policies I
favor necessarily make some people worse off. But they make
more people better off, and if the voters decided to make
the losers whole, they could tax the gainers, to compensate
the losers, and still have economic benefits left over.
That option is usually made explicit by advocates of free
trade, which I am. The benefits of free trade are widespread
and substantial compared with the losses that some people
suffer. Theoretically, you could apply the same test to the
benefits of not having a minimum wage law or not raising
the minimum. Of not having farm price supports or rent controls,
and so on.
Most "good" economic policies help many people
a little and hurt a few people a lot. That makes good economic
policy difficult politically since those harmed know who
they are and know their congressman’s telephone number. The
gainers each gain only a little and often aren’t even aware
of it. Diffused benefits and concentrated costs are a difficult
problem to overcome in trying to make the case for market
oriented-policies.
I suspect I’m on fairly safe moral ground advocating market-friendly
policies, since the efficiency of markets generally results
in a larger economic pie to be divided. Most efforts to distribute
the pie differently result in a smaller pie to be divided.
There’s nothing moral to me about killing the goose that
lays the golden eggs.
The daily newspapers these days
are full of moral dilemmas that, to me, don’t have easy
answers. For example, we have long made a distinction between avoiding taxes legally
and evading taxes illegally. Is that legal distinction
also a moral distinction? I suppose so, as long as you don’t
stay legal by telling less than the truth, the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.
What about aggressively pushing the envelope in interpreting
and applying generally accepted accounting principles your
business? If you push the envelope too hard, do you go to
hell as well as jail?
What about issuing an annual
report that doesn’t contain
actual falsehoods but doesn’t explicitly call attention to
all the firm’s debt? What if legal as well as generally acceptable
accounting treatments lead to outcomes that seem perverse
from a commonsense point of view? Does getting agreement
from your auditors help? What about your lawyers? Does that
help or hurt? How does "Thou shalt follow GAAP accounting" sound
as an 11th commandment? Maybe we could substitute it for
one of the original 10. I’ve always thought we had one too
many anyway. Just kidding, Father.
I don’t mean to trivialize these contemporary ethical issues,
but I don’t have much serious to offer. I suppose you should
treat such questions like you treat the question "Am
I an alcoholic?" Generally, if you have to ask the question,
you know the answer.
My guess is that most of the
corporate shenanigans started out innocently enough. The
move from long-term profit maximization
to short-term stock price maximization—with the rewards to
the decisionmakers tied to the stock price—started some good
people down a slippery slope when the first step was pretty
minor. First you do something only a little out of the ordinary
to make this quarter’s numbers. That makes next quarter’s
numbers more difficult, calling for more extraordinary actions.
Pretty soon you are in over your head, hoping that the boom
or inflation or the bull market will bail you out. If those
gods cooperate with you, your reputation as a genius grows,
and pretty soon you start believing your own press.
These recent episodes surprised
me. I’m naive. And I remain
naive, I guess. In no way do I believe they are endemic to
capitalism. No matter how much shows up as the pond is drained,
I remain convinced that the transparency of a market system
is less a breeding ground for wrongdoing than a more closed,
secretive, command and control system, where power is wielded
by men rather than markets.
Milton Friedman, in Capitalism and Freedom,
argued that racial discrimination is less likely in a capitalist
system because of the anonymity of its participants. Each
product we buy has perhaps hundreds of people involved in
some way in its production and distribution. We don’t know
who they are or what color they are. Under communism, socialism
or even a highly regulated mixed economy, people have more
monopoly power with which to exploit others than under a
competitive market system. I think the same reasoning applies
to other types of moral and ethical misbehavior.
The recent revelations have triggered
a move toward remedial legislation and regulation. I fear
overkill. Laws that try
to cover every type of circumstance in advance are bound
to have undesirable, unintended consequences and move us
back in the wrong direction. That is the message of Philip
Howard’s excellent book, The Death of Common Sense.
It seems that the moral high
ground is reserved for those with good intentions, even
if good intentions don’t produce
better results. That’s quite an advantage in public policy
debates. They get credit for having a good heart while their
opponents are seen as hardheaded. Hardheaded becomes hard-hearted.
In The Vision of the Anointed,
Thomas Sowell points out that when Hayek’s Road to Serfdom attacked
the welfare state and socialism in 1944, he characterized
his
adversaries as "single-minded idealists" and "authors
whose sincerity and disinterestedness are above suspicion." But
his own book was treated as something immoral, and some American
publishers refused to publish it, despite its already demonstrated
impact in England.
How many times have you heard
a minimum-wage debate on radio or TV? The hardhead will
argue that yes, some people will
earn more if the minimum wage is raised, but much employment,
especially low-skilled employment, that would have taken
place at the lower minimum won’t take place at the higher
minimum. The soft heart answers with a non sequitur like, "Yes,
but a family can’t live decently on the old minimum wage." The
interesting thing is how often that argument wins. A triumph
of good intentions over good results.
A couple of years ago, I testified for free trade before
a panel of presidential appointees charged with holding hearings
around the country on the trade deficit. A businessman followed
me. He also supported free trade, but it was clear that he
did so because he believed his company would benefit from
more exports. A true free trader would be for free trade
because of imports. Imports are the benefits of trade; exports
are the cost of trade.
Almost everyone gets that backwards. I know of one notable
exception, our Dallas congresswoman, Eddie Bernice Johnson,
who understands and is willing to articulate the point that
poor people benefit greatly from imports. They especially
benefit from the low prices you can get in Wal-Mart and Kmart
for goods made in China. Hooray for her. She gets it.
Others may get it too but pretend
not to and vote differently because they’d rather pander
to their constituents than try to educate them. The public
needs to learn what the Acton
Institute and others teach:
- the incentive role of profits and private property,
- the directing and coordinating role of market prices,
- the discipline of competition,
- the rejuvenating role of creative destruction,
- the reconciling role of Adam Smith’s invisible hand
- and the potential damage that can be done by interfering
with the above.
And from the Acton Institute, especially, we all need reassurance
that there is nothing inherently or innately immoral about
the market or those who participate in it.
Besides widespread ignorance about how markets operate,
another obstacle in making the case for the market is that
market solutions to economic problems sound to the uninitiated
too much like a do-nothing approach.
And "do nothing" sounds too much like "don’t
care."
Red-blooded Americans crave action.
"Don’t just stand there," they say. "Do
something."
A good economist might say, "Don’t
do something; just stand there."
The 19th century economist Jeremy
Bentham had it about right when he said, "In political
economy, there is much to learn and little to do."
Another obstacle to effective economic education, in my
opinion, is the way the public views economists. First, they
regard them primarily as economic forecasters, and forecasting
is a losing game. Nobody can do it well consistently.
Another obstacle is that while
economists agree on many, many important things, they tend
not to talk publicly about
their agreement. Instead, they focus on minor points of disagreement.
If professional economists can’t agree, or if the range of
expert opinion seems as wide among economists as it is among
the public, then people conclude they might as well be their
own economists. Their guess is as good as any, the rationale
goes. So people become their own economists–especially bartenders,
hairdressers and taxicab drivers. They can guess as good
as anybody whether the Dow is likely to rise or fall next
week.
Becoming your own economist usually
means projecting the present into the future and generalizing
from personal experience,
which leads immediately to our old friend, the fallacy of
composition. One person can see better by standing up at
the football game, but if everyone stands up, it doesn’t
help. The Aggies at Texas A&M University haven’t figured
that out yet. They stand the entire game.
I mentioned the fallacy of competition earlier as it pertains
to money and wealth. Money is wealth to its individual owner
but not to society at large. If it were, then we could cure
poverty with the printing press.
The money fallacy is also present
when people talk these days about how much wealth was lost
in the recent stock market
correction–in the trillions of dollars. That may be an accurate
sum of the net reductions in the accounts of stock owners.
But the economy didn’t lose trillions of dollars of real
wealth.
The economy, the day after a stock market plunge, has the
same number of buildings and factories and machines that
it had the day before. Its ability to produce real goods
and services has not been diminished.
Our money and other financial
assets represent potential claims on future production.
But future production hasn’t
been produced yet. Future production may or may not be affected
by today’s market decline. It probably will be if the correction
causes a recession or reduces investment and, therefore,
productivity over time. If the real economy is not impacted,
real wealth in the aggregate may not be affected.
When stock prices rise rapidly,
whether it’s called a bubble
or not, it’s as though people are acquiring tickets to a
football game to be played some time in the future, say,
20 years from now. The fans can all be accommodated only
if the number of seats in the stadium increases as rapidly
as the tickets sold. If the number of tickets grow faster
than seats are added, the apparent wealth of the ticket owners
is not all real. Having some of the tickets cancelled through
a stock market correction may or may not affect the capacity
of the stadium on game day, even though it will likely affect
who gets to attend. It affects the distribution of wealth.
Similar considerations apply
to the Social Security problem. We can tinker around with
the financing, with who gets how
many claims and who pays for them. But the fact remains that
the value of our Social Security claims at retirement will
depend on productivity growth between now and then and thus
the economy’s productive capacity at that future time. Wealth
must be produced; it can’t be printed.
Closely related to the fallacy
of composition is what I call the "fallacy of job counting." Creating jobs
is a favorite pastime of mayors, governors and chambers of
commerce. They believe they are doing the Lord’s work, and
sometimes they may be. Individual towns may benefit by attracting
new plants and new jobs. Or by subsidizing the construction
of a new stadium. Or by subsidizing an unprofitable company
to keep it from failing or relocating to Mexico. (By the
way, Mexico is now losing jobs to China.)
Those new jobs are real to the
local community and may give it a boost, but most of those
jobs aren’t new to the larger
community. Most newly created jobs are filled by workers
leaving other jobs. One community’s job gains are usually
another’s job losses. Attracting jobs through subsidies often
make the larger community poorer by allocating scarce resources
to other than their most productive use. If you add up all
the jobs local newspapers say have been "created," you
will likely get more jobs than there are people to fill them.
From a very local perspective,
all jobs are real and valuable. From the larger macro perspective,
it’s not potential jobs
that are scarce, it’s the people to fill jobs. What we ought
to be doing is not counting jobs but making jobs count. We
should make sure that scarce workers aren’t wasted by putting
them into suboptimal jobs. Who should decide what the right
jobs are? And where? Let the market decide.
"Saving" jobs probably does more harm than trying
to "create" jobs. What if the government, or a
really strong union, had protected the jobs of telephone
operators from modern, labor-saving technology? Given the
explosive growth in telephone traffic in recent years, half
our population would now be telephone operators. The rest
of us would probably be elevator operators.
I once stayed in a hotel in Tokyo where a nice-looking woman
stood in the lobby to greet you when you got off the elevator.
Japan had a very low unemployment rate. But I think they
were counting jobs rather than making jobs count.
Good economics is often counterintuitive.
This may shock you if you haven’t thought about it before, but progress
can best be measured by job losses, not job gains. Many years
ago, 90 percent of our population was needed on the farm
to produce our food. Now we produce more food with less than
3 percent of the population. That’s called productivity.
The difference between 90 percent and 3 percent doesn’t represent
an army of unemployed farmworkers; it represents people working
in other industries, many of which didn’t exist only a few
years ago. That’s called progress—progress measured by the
reduction in farm jobs. A good thing.
The battle between good intentions
and good outcomes in the long run is an uphill battle.
Can’t you just imagine
the last episode of the Little House on the Prairie,
when the evil banker brings the sheriff to take possession
of the family farm? Have you ever seen a TV show or a movie
where a banker or a businessman was the good guy?
The productivity revolution in farming
has proceeded so far and for so long that most of us can
appreciate it even
if we do have a soft spot for the family farmer. But the
same thing has been going on in manufacturing. We keep producing
more and better manufactured goods, but manufacturing employment
is flat to down. The productivity boom of recent years has
been led by manufacturing as we keep producing more output
with fewer workers. The decline in manufacturing employment
is a bad thing if you are one of those squeezed out or a
good thing from the macro perspective of raising our standard
of living. But which is the more moral thing? I would opt
for long-term progress, which expands our incomes and enhances
our lives over time, with appropriate assistance to those
squeezed out.
Similar considerations confront small towns about to get
their first Wal-Mart. Dislocation short term. Higher standard
of living long term. Which is right? What is the right thing
to do? Let people decide for themselves by voting in the
marketplace, where their individual preferences prevail.
Not in the political marketplace, where power prevails.
If you understand the magic of
the market, you don’t have
to choose. You can have good intentions. And get good results.
About the Author
McTeer is president
and CEO of the Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas. |
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