SYNOPSIS: Deflates argument by New Economy enthusiasts that the Economy is being held back. If a hidden Productivity boom is underway, GDP is already growing faster. The fuzzy logic of the "New Economy."
A couple of years
ago the editor of Business Week had a problem with his car: Whenever
he went too fast--whenever the needle on his speedometer went above 40--the
car developed a dangerous shimmy. So he carefully drove to the repair shop,
never letting the needle go past 39. Alas, after looking at the car, the
mechanic declared that he couldn't fix the shimmy. Moreover, he had found
another problem: The speedometer was defective. In fact, when the needle
was pointing to 40, the car was actually going 55. And he couldn't fix
that problem, either.
To the mechanic's
surprise, the editor was pleased with this news. "So what you're telling
me is that the car doesn't shimmy until I go 55 miles per hour. That means
I can drive home 15 miles an hour faster than I drove here!"
OK, OK, I made that story up. I have
never met Stephen Shephard, editor in chief of Business Week, but
I'm sure that he would never make that kind of mistake in ordinary life.
It would not be necessary for the mechanic to explain pedantically that,
while it was true that the news about the speedometer implied that the
car could go faster than previously thought, it did not change the speedometer
reading at which the car shimmied.
But
he is apparently not so clearheaded when it comes to economics. Indeed,
the whole "New Economy" doctrine--a doctrine relentlessly espoused
by his magazine for the last few years and vociferously defended in a recent
signed essay by Shephard himself--is based on a misunderstanding of the
relationship between measurement and reality that is conceptually identical
to the garbled thinking of the imaginary editor retrieving his car.
The New Economy doctrine, sometimes
called the New Economic Paradigm, may be summarized as the view that globalization
and information technology have led to a surge in the productivity of U.S.
workers. This, in turn, has produced a sharp increase in the rate of growth
that the U.S. economy can achieve without running up against capacity limits.
"Forget 2% real growth," urges Shephard. "We're talking
3%, or even 4%." This increase in the potential growth rate, in turn,
is supposed to explain why the United States has managed to drive unemployment
to a 25-year low without inflation.
The conventional view that the economy
has a "speed limit" of around 2-percent to 2.5-percent growth
does not come out of thin air. It is based on the real-life observation
that when the output of the U.S. economy--as measured by real gross domestic
product--is growing rapidly, the unemployment rate falls; when the output
is growing slowly or is shrinking, the unemployment rate rises. Over the
last 20 years, the break point--the growth rate at which unemployment neither
rises nor falls--has been between 2 percent and 2.5 percent. And this break
point does not seem to have changed much in recent years: Since mid-1994,
GDP has grown at about a 2.7-percent annual rate, while unemployment has
fallen at a steady rate, implying that the no-change-in-unemployment growth
rate is closer to 2 percent than to 3 percent. (Click here
to see a chart that illustrates the break point.)
So
what? Don't we want unemployment to fall? Yes, of course, but the
unemployment rate can fall only so far. Obviously it can't go below zero;
and in reality, the limits to growth are reached long before the economy
gets to that point. Both logic and history tell us that when workers are
very scarce and jobs very abundant, employers will start bidding against
each other to attract workers, wages will begin rising rapidly, and real
growth will give way to inflation. That means that while the economy can
grow faster than 2-point-whatever percent for a while if it starts from
a high rate of unemployment (like the 7.5-percent unemployment rate that
prevailed in late 1992), in the long run, that growth rate cannot remain
higher than the rate that keeps unemployment constant. And that is where
the infamous "speed limit" comes from.
Behind that speed limit, in turn,
lies another bit of arithmetic: The rate of growth of output, by definition,
is the sum of the rate of growth of employment (which is limited by the
size of the potential labor force) and that of productivity, a k a output
per worker.
A ha!
say the New Economy advocates--that's exactly our point. Productivity growth
has accelerated, which means that the old speed limit has been repealed.
It's true, they concede, that official productivity statistics do not show
any dramatic acceleration--in fact, measured productivity growth in the
'90s has been about 1 percent per year, an unimpressive performance similar
to that of the two previous decades. (It has gone up more than 2 percent
in the last year, but this is probably just a statistical blip.) But they
insist that the official statistics miss the reality, understating true
productivity growth because, as Shephard insists, "we don't know how
to measure output in a high-tech service economy."
He's probably right about that. What
he may not realize is that we really didn't know how to measure output
in a medium-tech industrial economy, either. How could productivity indexes--which
basically measure the ability of workers to produce a given set
of goods--properly take account of such revolutionary innovations as automobiles,
antibiotics, air conditioning, and long-playing records? Just about every
economic historian who has looked at the issue believes that standard measures
of productivity have consistently understated the true improvement in living
standards for at least the past 140 years. It's anybody's guess whether
unmeasured productivity growth in the last few years is greater or less
than in the past. (My personal guess is that the hidden improvements are
less important than they were in the 1950s and 1960s: For example,
direct-dial long-distance calling and television made more real difference
to our lives than the Internet and DVD.)
But
anyway, that is all beside the point. After all, what is this number we
call "productivity"? It is measured real GDP per worker--nothing
more, nothing less. Suppose Shephard is right that we are understating
productivity growth by, say, 1 percent. Since nobody thinks we are overstating
employment growth, he must believe that the official statistics understate
true output growth by exactly the same amount. Now Shephard is quite right
that if true productivity growth is 2 percent, not the 1-percent measured
rate, and if the labor force is growing at 1 percent, then the economy's
true speed limit is 3 percent, not 2 percent. But when the economy is actually
growing at 3 percent, the statistics will say that it is growing
at 2 percent--and yet it cannot grow any faster.
Still, Shephard thinks that it can.
"Perhaps the 4% rate of the past 12 months is too high. ... But the
2%-to-2 1/2% speed limit is probably obsolete. In an era of stronger productivity
growth, which may just now be showing up in statistics, the speed limit
is probably 3% to 3 1/2% a year." In short, now that he knows (or,
anyway, prefers to believe) that the speedometer has been understating
his speed, and that the shimmy therefore doesn't start until he is really
going 55, he thinks that he can drive 55 as measured using that same
speedometer. Uh-uh.
But
doesn't the happy combination of low unemployment and low inflation show
the payoff from hidden productivity growth? Well, higher productivity growth
would mean lower inflation for any given rate of wage increase. And if
official productivity statistics understate the real rate of progress by
1 percent, official price statistics also overstate inflation by
exactly the same amount. This is a cheerful thought, but it also means
that invoking covert productivity increases doesn't help explain why even
measured inflation remains quiescent. The low rate of inflation
in the U.S. economy is indeed a surprise: But the puzzle is why wages have
not risen more rapidly despite very tight labor markets, not why prices
have remained stable given very moderate wage increases. And productivity
itself can't help
us with that one.
Shephard's essay was pretty obviously
intended as a response to economists--including Princeton's Alan Blinder,
Morgan Stanley's Steve Roach, and me--who have recently been critical of
the New Economy doctrine, among other things pointing out (though apparently
to little effect) the dependence of that doctrine on the speedometer fallacy.
It seems clear that he is baffled by the reluctance of "Old Economists"
to join the party, and that he can only explain it by their unwillingness
to accept the idea that the world has changed and that their pet theories
are no longer valid. Well, I can't speak for the others, but I have no
particular aversion to admitting that the economy can change and that old
rules sometimes don't apply. In fact, as anyone who makes much of his income
from book royalties and speeches can tell you, the incentives are all the
other way: People would much rather hear about how everything has changed
than about why most of the usual rules still apply. (And feel-good optimism
sells much better than dismal realism.)
No, the reason I can't buy into the
New Economy is actually very simple: Despite all the incentives, I can't
bring myself to endorse a doctrine that I know to be just plain dumb.