SYNOPSIS: Supply-Sider critique of claims. Attacks belief that professors are most reliable.
This review Paul Krugman's 1994 tirade, Peddling Prosperity, appeared, with all due respect, in International Economy (with a couple of graphs that are missing here):
Paul Krugman of MIT may be
a very good economist, but he is a clumsy, heavy-handed polemicist.
This book began, he says, as a "partisan tract," and
most of it remained just that. When he found himself excluded
from the Clinton elite, however, Krugman apparently decided to
expand the theme into a broader assault on "policy entrepreneurs"
in general, including an effective assault on the dangerous "managed
trade" nonsense of Robert Reich and Laura Tyson. "This
book," says Krugman, "is at least partly dedicated to
the proposition that serious economists need to be taken seriously."
The problem is that Krugman wants to select who is serious and
who is not, and his criteria are rather arbitrary.
What defines those who Krugman
denigrates as mere "policy entrepreneurs" is not simply
academic snobbery but the author's contempt for nonconformity
and dissent -- for failure to play by the rules of what he calls
"conventional academic research." "One can have
blue-chip credentials," he gripes, "and still have an
outsider's mind-set." Yet Krugman is nearly as critical
of academic insiders as he is of heretics. "In the academic
world," he writes, "the theories that are most apt to
attract a devoted following are those that best allow a clever
but not very original young man to demonstrate his cleverness."
Such remarks (which sound suspiciously autobiographical), make
us wonder how serious these clever academic insiders really are.
How can we tell a serious
professor, with an insider's mind-set, from a lowly policy entrepreneur?
One clue, says Krugman, is that policy entrepreneurs rely on
metaphors to illustrate their points. Yet Krugman's 1990 book,
The Age of Diminished Expectations, compared exchange rates
to a car's drive shaft. This book devotes a whole chapter to
comparing the economy to a typewriter keyboard. Another warning
sign is that policy entrepreneurs "sell books to the general
public" and "appear on television." But Krugman
does both of those things, and also writes articles for the general
press. There is nothing wrong with all that. People who are
deeply interested in public policy naturally want to communicate
in effective ways. But Krugman becomes quite upset when others
grab the spotlight.
Supply-side economists, he
says, are "eccentric" or "renegade professors"
who have "crude and silly" ideas. "Or to put in
another way, the supply-siders are cranks." It is, he says,
"a doctrine not even worth arguing against." Krugman
also claims "there is no economist who one might call a supply-sider
at any major [economics] department." If we define supply-siders
as those who think marginal tax rates have very significant effects
on the economy, however, there are fairly pure supply-siders at
Harvard, MIT, UCLA, Colombia, Duke, Florida State, George Mason,
Ohio University, the Universities of North Carolina, Indiana,
Georgia, Mississippi, and Michigan, several Federal Reserve banks,
the World Bank and the IMF. The fact that the author does not
know who they are simply reveals that he is not up to date on
the professional literature on taxes and transfers.
Robert Mundell of Colombia
University, Krugman admits, "is a name to be reckoned with."
But this supply-side "mascot" committed the unforgivable
sin: He "veered off from conventionality." "He
wears his hair long . . . dropped out of the usual academic round
of seminars and conferences," and became too critical of
fellow economists. Even aside from the strange critique of Bob
Mundell's hair styling (which has not been long for many years),
these are curious complaints coming, as they do, from someone
who has been called "the bad boy" of economics (by
his media fans) because of Krugman's arrogant habit of bad-mouthing
everyone else.
The more substantive difference
between professors and the policy entrepreneurs is that "serious"
professors apparently know nothing about what improves economic
growth or what causes inflation. They "don't know how to
make a poor country rich, or how to bring back the magic of economic
growth." "Nobody really knows why the U.S. economy
could generate 3 percent annual productivity growth before 1973
but only 1 percent since." "There is still a bit of
mystery why inflation accelerated as much as it did in 1978 and
1979" or "why the U.S. economy was so weak in 1990-92."
"The real answer is that we don't know."
It is precisely because mainstream
economists know so little that they fell into disrepute in the
seventies. They had long argued that governments should stimulate
demand to fix recessions, and restrain demand to fix inflations.
The only argument was how best to manipulate spending. Monetarists
thought the Fed was far more potent than budget deficits. Keynesians
typically advised raising federal spending in recessions and
raising taxes in booms, giving both sides of the budget an excuse
for ratcheting upward (though Keynesian theory could just as well
advise cutting tax rates in recessions and cutting government
spending in booms).
When faced with inflationary
recessions (stagflation), both varieties of demand management
were baffled. How could the government or central bank stimulate
and restrict demand at the same time? Krugman still does not
realize that the key debate of the late seventies was about Mundell's
policy mix. Mundell advised assigning monetary policy the task
of holding demand down, while simultaneously expanding aggregate
supply through tax incentives for capital and labor. Krugman dodges
this central issue by making the bizarre claim that supply-siders
think money does not matter at all -- that "monetary policies
are completely ineffective"! Indeed, the author's main complaint
with the supply siders is this straw man who thinks the Fed doesn't
matter, since he concedes that "without any question, the
negative effects of taxes on incentives are significant "
Krugman does attach more importance
to money than most supply-siders would. He actually seems to
believe that the Fed can print labor and capital. He writes that
the expansion from 1982 "should be called the Volcker expansion,"
because Volcker didn't always keep the fed funds rate at 12-16%.
The author defines Keynesianism
as the notion that changes in the demand for or supply of money
can cause or cure recessions -- a "monetarist" proposition
no supply-sider ever denied. The usual supply-side complaint with
monetarism is not that money doesn't matter, but that (1) the
definition of money is increasingly arbitrary due to rapid innovation
and global integration in financial markets; and that (2) monetary
conditions can be importantly influenced by international developments.
Tight money in Japan contributes to low inflation in the U.S.,
for example; and a falling exchange rate fosters relatively higher
inflation in the weak currency country.
Krugman argues that "the
fact that exchange rates are not reflected in prices is one of
the best pieces of evidence for . . . Keynesianism." The
fact that real and nominal exchange rates move up and down together
supposedly proves that prices are sticky, so the same good can
supposedly sell at different prices in different counties. Actually,
it proves no such thing. A decline in the U.S. terms of trade
is equivalent to a real devaluation (trading more exports for
fewer imports), but that would typically be accompanied by a nominal
devaluation too if the dollar is floating. A falling dollar might
result in deflation in Japan rather than inflation in the U.S.,
but that would not prove that traded goods sell at different prices
in the two countries.
Krugman doesn't really believe
his own claim that exchange rates are not reflected in prices.
He knows better. When grappling with the "mystery"
of inflation in the late seventies, he tells us that "Rising
food and energy prices were part of the story, as was a slide
in the dollar." This seems to argue that the dollar
price of two internationally traded commodities, oil and grain,
have nothing to do with the value of the dollar, which is demonstrably
absurd. In his 1990 book, however, Krugman wrote that "the
eventual result of an effort to drive the dollar down will be
to raise prices by roughly the same proportion as the dollar falls."
That was an extreme statement of the supply-side view he now
criticizes.
Is there any economist
who merits Krugman's praise? He says Paul Romer is "the
most influential theorist of the 1980s." Romer's summary
of his own research, written with Robert Barro for the National
Bureau of Economic Research, emphasized that "all economic
improvement can be traced to actions taken by people who respond
to incentives . . . . If government taxes or [regulatory] distortions
discourage the activity that generates growth, growth will be
slower." Didn't the supply-siders say something like that?
Krugman rarely quotes the
people he is criticizing, which allows him to pretend that supply-siders
think money doesn't matter, or whatever else suits his story.
He does quote this reviewer twice, apparently from memory, but
I never said or wrote what he says I did. He claims supply-siders do
not "rely on empirical evidence" (is there any other
kind of evidence?), yet Krugman himself is remarkably casual with
alleged facts about the economy. He ridicules supply-siders for
predicting that lower marginal tax rates would increase labor
force participation and real tax revenues, for example, yet conceals
the fact that this is exactly what happened -- until tax rates
went back up in 1990-1993. Real household net worth also rose
substantially before the Iraq War (particularly before 1987, when
IRAs were diluted and the capital gains tax raised), and so did
business savings and the Fed's flow-of-funds measure of household
savings. This indicates how meaningless Krugman's chosen "savings
rate" in the national income accounts is. Personal savings"
can even appear to rise -- as a percentage of after-tax income
-- because real after-tax income falls even more than real savings
do.
A major theme of this book
is that productivity and living standards slowed to a crawl in
the eighties. Yet Figure 1 [not shown on the website]
shows that productivity of nonfinancial corporations grew quite
briskly after 1980 (statisticians don't know how to measure productivity
of financial services, so they assume it is zero). Figure 2 shows
that real consumption per capita -- the best single measure of
living standards -- also rose sharply in the eighties.
The chapter on income distribution
is embarrassingly amateurish. Krugman repeats all the fallacies
that he has been criticized for in the past, even by his alleged
source --. the Congressional Budget Office -- which has written
that he got the numbers all wrong. Krugman continues to claim
that the fact that a rising percentage of U.S. families earned
more than $50,000 represents some ominous shrinkage of the "middle
class." He defines the seventies as 1973 to 1979, and the
eighties as starting in either 1977 or 1980 and ending in the
recession of 1990. He tells us that "half of the families
who start in either the top or the bottom quintile of the income
distribution are still there after a decade," and says that
proves that "most poor or rich people stay that way."
All it proves is that it takes more than a decade for someone
who is twenty years old to turn forty. Worst of all, Krugman
refers to all income gains among those with high incomes amount
to "siphoning" income from others. Krugman ignores
his critics in his usual way, saying "it is not worth tracking
all the ins and outs of this debate."
For a self-styled serious
economist, Paul Krugman is looking more and more like one of those
policy entrepreneurs he loves to hate. He certainly isn't guilty
of peddling prosperity, so what is he peddling? "I believe
in a society," he writes, "that taxes the well-off and
uses the proceeds to help the poor and the unlucky." In
The Age of Diminished Expectations, though, Krugman wrote
that "given that the deepest problem with the U.S. economy
is slow productivity growth, it is difficult to argue for tax
increases that might reduce incentives, even if some people make
large sums for dubious contributions." Since 1990, Krugman's
former emphasis on incentives and productivity, and on the merits
of exchange rate stability, have taken a back seat to his new
passion for partisan politics and income levelling, which appear
to have overpowered his judgement.
Peddling Pomposity