Census Mess Can Be Resolved with a New One in 2021

I was commissioned by the ‘Dominion Post’ to write an opinion piece as part of their review of the anniversary of the 2018 Census. This is a slightly revised version of what they published. The main article is ‘365 days and still counting:  Census results still nowhere to be seen’.  An earlier ‘Pundit’ column is ‘The Census Flop‘. 

The test for a census has to be that it will stand up in a court of law. Its uses are so widespread, so fundamental to the governance of New Zealand, that there need be only one aggrieved party from a decision involving a census to end up in court. This has always been true but the 2018 Census of Population and Dwellings appears particularly flawed and therefore more likely to be litigated.

To avoid litigation the district health boards have decided to remain with the 2013 census. The Electoral Commission has no such discretion; the law requires them to use the latest census.

Some MPs have already said they have no confidence in any boundaries based on the 2018 census. An MP who disliked the Electoral Commission’s decisions may well go to court. Given the technical issues involved, the judicial process is likely to push the final determination of boundaries to a date too late for the 2020 general election. I am told, by people more informed than I am, that the courts may decide that the 2018 Census did not meet the standards required in the relevant statutes.

Every census has glitches, but the 2018 one had a major defect resulting in an exceptionally low ‘coverage ratio’, or the proportion who filled in their forms. Instructively, a year has gone by and we do not know that the exact ratio is but it is thought that about one in ten New Zealanders failed to file a return – double from what is normal.

Even Statistics New Zealand has no confidence in the outcome and is trying to patch the gap by using other data sources. For many purposes the resulting data-base may be adequate, although there may be larger margins of statistical error. However a court is unlikely to be convinced that the result meets statutory requirements.

The major defect was the inadequate provision of enumerators, the people who knock at your door (and find dwellings not on the public record), help you fill in the forms and go back to remind those who have not. Figures released by Statistics New Zealand suggest that only half the resources were provided for this purpose in 2018, compared to the 2013 Census.

The reasons for the reduction are beyond comprehension. So the government cuts back the resources; you tell the government you cannot do the job that it and statute ask of you. You think you can double enumerator productivity because you are expecting 70 percent to respond electronically. You do not have to be Einstein to know that the other 30 percent are those that require the most intensive work from the enumerators.

The anecdotal result seems to have been poorly trained and managed enumerators, and with fewer followups. The quantitative consequence of halving the resources has been a doubling of the coverage failure. (Twelve months after the failure and Statistics New Zealand has not provided a detailed review.)

What to do? When the failure became apparent nine months ago it was proposed that there be a new census run in March 2021 (just two years from now) and that the 2020 general election be run on the existing boundaries based on the 2013 Census. That has the additional advantage of realigning New Zealand census dates to the Western standard of years ending in 1 and 6; the sequence was disrupted by the Canterbury earthquakes.

Statistics New Zealand has claimed that it takes three years (instead of two years and nine months) to run a new census. But I am told that if they use the existing reliable parts of the 2018 census with the 2013 enumerator system, it will take 18 months to organise.

So it could start the task as late as this September. All it requires is leadership, although it may be sensible to bring back (sometimes out of retirement) the team that ran the 2013 enumeration.

Posts on Health Economics on Pundit

The following are various columns on my Pundit website which involve health economics. 

What is the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder? (7 November 2014)

The Cost of Demanding More Health Care (10 November, 2014)

Prolongation of Life and the Quality of Life (28 November, 2014)

Thrive: The Power of Psychological Therapy (November 2, 2015)

Are we spending enough on healthcare? (1 March 2016)

Should We Tax Sugar? (26 October, 2018)

BEING A HEALTH ECONOMIST

Wellington School of Medicine Summer School  22 February, 2019.

But, first, you may well ask, why should anyone – especially a health practitioner – care about health economics? When I was teaching health economics to sixth-year medical students, I wrote on the board so that it was there during the entire session:

EITHER HEALTH PROFESSIONALS TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE RESOURCES THEY USE,

OR ACCOUNTANTS WILL MAKE THE TREATMENT DECISIONS.

My students were uncomfortable with this – as I intended them to be. They took the view that they were there to act in the interests of their patients; why should they have to be concerned about these other things?

The role of a health economist is to explain why resources have to be taken into account, although today I will be working on a wider canvas because I shall also be talking about population-based healthcare as well as healthcare for the individual: in my professional lifetime the ‘treatment’ with the biggest health gain has been from reducing tobacco consumption.

There are many dimensions to health economics, many topics on which I have worked.

Charging for Health Care

My first memories of a health economic topic arose over the question of whether visits to the doctor should be free. That had been the intention of the First Labour Government when they established in 1938 what we know today as the public health system. (Incidentally I have never been disadvantaged by learning about the history of any topic I am studying.) The Labour government wanted all health services free but doctors claimed the right to continue to charge their patients – as they generally do today in general practice and private secondary medicine.

But should they? Isn’t health care fundamental to life? Why should patients pay? Actually a lot of things are fundamental to life, but we pay for them. Consider food. The difference is that food needs are regular, but health care is erratic. Some people can go for years without the need to see their GP, others may have to visit weekly.

An answer might seem to be insurance. In effect the welfare state was seen to be a form of social insurance but, for reasons that belong to a full health economics course, private insurance proves to be much trickier.

A related problem is where do you draw the line? Should free care cover dental fees or physiotherapy fees or aspirins and other OTC medicines or even, say, quack treatments.

Observe that charges are a rationing devise. You go to a GP if you value the service you are going to pay for, although in practice there other factors which affect your decision. That you go because you value the service more than you pay is also true when you purchase food – economics has put in a lot of effort to explain the exact mechanics.

What is different for healthcare, besides erratic demand, is that you go to the doctor find out whether you need treatment. Supermarkets do not advise you on your food needs. Sometimes it is said that GP charges discourage frivolous visits, but they may also discourage necessary visits – say for early identification of a condition such as cancer. Prescription charges are even more puzzling. A qualified medical adviser says one needs the drugs; why should you pay for them?

The charges seem to have been introduced to eke out the available funding for public health care. The alternative would be to raise taxes; in fact a prescription charge is a tax, a tax on the sick.

Not surprisingly, some people go without. A recent Ministry of Health Survey shows that 7 percent of adults and 4 percent of children leave a prescription unfilled each year because of cost. This affects women more than men, Maori and Pasifika adults more than Pakeha, the most economically deprived neighbourhoods more than those from the least deprived neighbourhoods. I find it very hard to justify prescription charges.

(Incidentally, when Muldoon proposed to introduce prescription charges in the 1970s we argued that it made more sense to tax drugs  like alcohol and tobacco which damaged the public health, Muldoon switched tack and did exactly that. But rust never sleeps and some years later the Treasury got its way by convincing some craven politicians that there should be prescription charges.)

What about the opportunity to purchase secondary care from a specialist or private hospital? The option was always there but the establishment of Southern Cross Medical Insurance in 1961 intensified the issue. It made it even easier to jump the treatment queue, that is to enable the patient to be treated earlier than more urgent cases waiting in the public line, especially if specialists divert their effort from public treatment to private treatment. The outcome had shades of a multi-class provision of healthcare which the First Labour Government was opposed to.

I have already said that medical insurance is a big topic which requires complicated analysis. But sitting behind it is the question of the level of public healthcare funding. Just how much does the taxpayer, rather than the sick, pay? The answer is ‘a lot’  – the health budget is one of the government’s largest outlays. Many people, including myself, conclude though, it is not enough.

Why don’t we increase taxation and use the additional revenue for spending on public healthcare (and other worthy causes)? The short answer is that  in New Zealand there is a strong aversion towards raising taxes.

You might think that in the case of healthcare everyone would be willing since they would be receive better healthcare from the public sector. But the costs and benefits do not fall evenly. Those at the top of the income distribution would pay more tax than the healthcare they would receive on average. They judge that they personally can get a cheaper deal by purchasing treatment from the private sector when they need it. Those on high incomes, a little below the richest judge, may be able to get a cheaper deal by purchasing medical insurance which will provide treatment from the private sector.

Before finishing this rapid overview of charging and overall funding of healthcare, let me mention a couple of other issues.

First, in 1938 the implicit view was that there was a limit to the totality of possible treatments. This was before the postwar explosion of pharmaceuticals and other novel treatments. Such is human inventiveness that there does not seem to be any ending of the trend, with resulting upward pressures arising from new treatments.

Meanwhile, new demands for care have arisen. Longevity increases the demand for care although we do not have a very good understanding of by how much. It is ironic that improved healthcare which eliminates deaths probably costs the nation more in further care in the longer lives.

We know less about the causes of rising obesity, of rising mental health demands and of rising addiction. On the other hand we have made good progress by reducing tobacco use and we have done much the same reducing the misuse of alcohol – although there remain serious problems here;

Changes in treatment approaches have also chewed up resources. For instance, while I support procedures to obtain informed consent, I recognise that takes time and adds to treatment costs.

The big takeaway is that unlike the 1938 vision, there does not seem be any practical limit to the resources we can throw at the health system. Yet, there is going to have to be some constraint on what is available. That means waiting times and the non-provision of low-return treatments in the public system and the limits that come from affordability in the private system.

Second, I was not involved in the establishment of the no-fault ACC system. In health system terms the scheme is interesting because it provides comprehensive coverage for certain treatments arising from conditions caused by accidents as well as prevention, rehabilitation and compensation.

It is frequently argued that we should extend the entire health system so that is run on the same principles as ACC. The historic record is that ACC was fundable because it abolished a lot of expensive litigation. There are no similar hidden funding sources for extending the scheme to sickness. To do so would require some form of taxation (or compulsory levies). Practically, ACC can probably provide such a good health service because it is only a small part of the total treatment system. Politically, the scheme has been greatly contested, especially by those who pay the levies, especially in the 1970s.

In the case of ACC there was the sneaking back of the fault notion in regard to treatment injury – when a treatment goes wrong –  quite against the spirit of the 1967 Woodhouse Report.

I was involved in addressing the anomaly in the 2000s. The criterion is now, basically, that the injury as a result of the treatment has to be unusual; no longer fault has to be proved. Court decisions mean the notion of ‘unusual’ is being reviewed.

What we were doing here was realigning the incentive systems towards the needs of the patients over any alleged failure of practitioners. Meanwhile there remains a parallel system for dealing with incompetence in a health professional. In my view the design is still not quite satisfactory because it does not give all the encouragement it might to the institution to provide a quality safety culture.

To summarise, funding the health system has substantial impacts on how the system runs; the arrangements affect not only the cost to the taxpayer and patient (and to the insurance system) but the efficiency of the system and the care people receive.

This is nicely illustrated by the US health system which is the most expensive system in the world and has some of its finest clinicians; yet its performance in terms of the health of the average American is mediocre by international standards. There are two reasons: poor system design (the topic of the next section) and poor public health (the topic of the third section).

Organising the Health System

The structure of the health system has been in almost constant flux. I rarely use the term ‘reform’. The word ‘change’ is usually adequate and it does not have any connotations of improvement. Too often a ‘reform’ has proved – prospectively and retrospectively – to result in a reduction in performance. I am going to devote this section to the health redisorganisation of the early 1970s.

There was with the 1991 Mother of All Budgets a ‘Green and White’ paper proposing major changes to the public health system. (The reason why it was combined green – for discussion – and white – where government decisions had been made – was that even the National Cabinet could not agree to some of its more extreme proposals.)

I use the term ‘commercialisation’ to describe the redisorganisation. At its core was the idea that the best way to deliver health care was by businesses competing in the market. It would not be possible to do this completely. The aim would be to commercialise as much as possible.

The redisorganisation was sometimes described by the critics as an ‘Americanisation’ of the health system. New Zealand’s healthcare culture is different from America’s with its more commercial focus. America’s is probably near unique among rich country health systems. The proposers of the redisorganisation wanted an even purer – more commercial – form of the US system.

This was not evidence-based policy for there was no evidence that the redisorganisation would give a better health system. Indeed, insofar as it was moving toward, and then past, the American system, the evidence was that it would get worse. Those involved had absolutely no experience in the disciplines most knowledgeable about the design of health systems. Those in charge of the change specifically excluded those with expertise. That included not bothering to consult some leading world experts who happened to be visiting New Zealand at the time.

The ignorance of those planning the change soon became evident. Sometimes the errors were laughable. One advocate confused an intensive care unit with a post-operation recovery unit. One hopes that had he a heart attack he would not choose where he was to go.

The promise was that these changes would generate a 20 percent productivity increase. That, the advocates said, would mean that 20 percent more health care could be provided on the current budget, although perhaps some hoped to cut public funding by that amount.

One of those working on the redisorganisation explained that he had worked on other industries and always got a 20 percent productivity gain. What he did not understand was that his earlier businesses had been capital intensive – say 80 percent of costs were related to capital inputs – but the health sector was 80 percent labour intensive. Given this sort of misunderstanding, little attention was paid to the labour input. Not only were the specialists in health systems analysis ignored but so were the health professionals.

This was nicely illustrated by one chief executive of a Crown Health Enterprise (notice the last word) who had been recruited from the business sector. He had a dozen reporting directly to him, only one of whom was a health professional. Most of the appointed chief executives were from business and were more comfortable with business people. The governing boards of the new entities were also stacked with business people.

I remember a chief executive talking enthusiastically how he expected his clinicians to join him to achieve his CHE’s objective. He was politely asked what the objective was, and the businessman said it was the ‘bottom line’ and then sort of deflated as he realised the implications. The clinicians he was talking to, did not give a fig for profits but had someone in the room had a heart attack you would have been clear that their objective was the welfare of patients.

The theory was that just as any economist was able to pontificate on the health service, any manager could manage a health entity even though they had no knowledge of health issues. We call them ‘generic managers’ and their cult still dominates Wellington today, although not so much in the health system. You need professional expertise to run it.

Given the disaster of the health redisorganisation of the 1990s, you may also want to dismiss economists as having nothing to say about health systems. It is generic economists you need to dismiss.

Health practitioners were outraged by the proposed redisorganisation and actively opposed it. One of the most important lobbyists was the Coalition for Public Health. I worked as a technical adviser for them. They could see that the proposed changes were out of touch with reality but they did not have the framework to understand what was going on, nor make sense of what the other side was thinking. Thus we health economists made our contribution.

Did the public opposition to the commercialisation had any effect? It was such a stupid proposal that it would have broken down under its own weight anyway. Probably the opposition’s effect was to slow down the changes and bring them to an earlier end.

People suffered. There are documented cases of people dying during the turmoil because of managerial mistakes. The falling mortality rate slowed, which indicates that there were many more undocumented cases of death and discomfort from the cutting back of resources and the organisational turmoil.

Within a couple of years the government acknowledged there would be no significant productivity gains. Even so, the momentum of the redisorganisation continued; even today the current government struggles with its legacy despite much having been reversed. Destruction is easy; recovery and creation takes decades.

It is said that success has many parents but failure is an orphan. Nobody today mentions their active role in the redisorganisation; some have rewritten history to disguise their involvement. Some involved in the shambles were kept on advising or promoted in the health system area.

The government suffered. Jim Bolger, prime minister of the time, said that National almost lost the 1993 election because of its health policies. (Probably what protected National was that the Labour Party played such a small role in the opposition to them.) Those opposing the changes may take a little pleasure in this, although I do recall any sentiment in the Coalition for Public Health that it was trying to bring down the government. The focus was on stopping the stupidity.

Another curiosity is that those who led the opposition have never had public recognition. In a healthier political world its generals – Alan Gray, Peter Roberts, Alistair Scott – would have been given knighthoods.

Legal Drugs and the Public Health

I now switch to a quite different area of health economics: public health policy illustrated by the regulation of alcohol and tobacco. By an unfortunate or fortunate accident I worked first on alcohol policy. Tobacco policy is much easier so I shall deal with it first.

The health advice is that one should not smoke. The more one smokes the worse for one’s health. Moreover – and this distinguishes tobacco from alcohol – the damage seems to be proportional to the quantity consumed.

The health economist asks ‘what is the problem?’. Smokers know the risks – they do now anyway following heavy publicity campaigns – and they choose to take the long-term consequences for the short-term benefits of smoking. People do that in many other areas – skydiving or walking across the road.

One answer is that some of the costs arising from the consequences of smoking are borne by others. Economists call this the ‘externality problem’. Much of the analysis of how markets behave well assumes that making a decision in one’s own interests does not reduce the welfare of others. If it does, then the price mechanism lacks some of the properties which make it so effective.

Examples of externalities include passive smoking (I help develop the smoke-free policy) and the devastation to family and friends from a smoker’s early death. The big one is that the health system incurs additional treatment costs from a smoker’s sickness which are not paid by the smoker. .

The last statement involves a trickier analysis than it seems, because if one avoids death from smoking one lives longer and incurs extra costs to the public health system later in life. The tobacco companies commissioned consultants to show that these later costs were greater. (To do this the consultants had to admit that the tobacco caused sickness and deaths, which they have not been keen to do.) The logic of their analysis is exploding cigarettes which kill smokers on the day they retire from the workforce. The paradox arises because we need to take into consideration longevity and the quality of life associated with it, something I shall talk about in today’s final section.

There is another tricky issue here, which is that economics tends to assume that people make rational decisions in their own interest. By way of background, economics is an older discipline than scientific psychology and it had to invent the assumptions which underpin economic behaviour. That a person makes rational decisions which optimise their self-interest is a useful one with a number of analytic advantages. In my view the assumption is a useful first step, but there are economists who defend it fiercely as though it is unquestionably true.

Even when I began the work, we knew that most smokers exhibited a paradox for they say they would like to give up smoking but they do not. That is difficult to explain in terms of rational economic behaviour.

More recently, economists have incorporated the psychological literature which suggests that people do not behave as rationally as traditional economic theory assumes. Behavioural economics is a relatively new research area and we are fumbling our way to incorporating it into the central economic paradigm.

It shifts policy beyond making sure people understand the consequences of smoking and eliminating externalities and to pursue policies which actively discourage smoking – especially discouraging (young) people from taking it up.

It turns out that one of the most effective ways to reduce tobacco consumption and discourage taking it up is a high excise duty on tobacco; raising it is an integral part of today’s anti-tobacco policy. So economists have been integrally involved in the campaign.

Alcohol is a little different, because while one’s aggregate consumption affects one’s health, the intensity of consumption also has serious additional effects – binge drinking is neither good for you nor for the others you impact on. My reading of the literature is that modest low level drinking is not particularly bad for one – as I said, many things one does like skydiving and crossing the street are like that. In fairness I should say that the view I have just enunciated is contested but it is my best judgement – over the years it has changed as new evidence became available..

Because of the different impacts from tobacco and alcohol on health and society it is not so easy to regulate drinking. That there are numerous impacts means that there is a need for multiple policy interventions. For instance, there is no tobacco parallel to drink-driving rules.

Taxing alcohol consumption is trickier too. The ideal would be a tax rate which rose as your blood alcohol consumption rose. I have struggled with practical alternatives over the years. That is a big story, so let me just tell you a cheerful part of it.

When working on rates of excise duties on alcohol, I found an anomaly in duty levels which meant there were low tax rates – and hence prices – on light spirits which were taxed as though they were wine but whose alcohol characteristics were closer to full spirits. A bottle of light spirits cost about a hour’s wages, but its contents were sufficient to kill a drinker of a full bottle. Sadly, while I was working on the project, some youths did and died.

I took my findings to the Treasury who were appalled. Bugger the health effects, there was leak in their tax system. Very quickly the tax regime was changed; ALAC, for whom I was working, said it was the quickest tax increase they ever got.

One effect of the new tax regime was to raise the price of fortified wines. The newspapers gleefully pointed out that little old ladies would have to give up their night sherry, failing to mention light spirits which were the primary public health target. In fact, the impact on sherry consumption proved to be small, but light spirits consumption fell to zero. (The light-spirits manufacturers did not end up crying into their liquor. They provide RTDs; I know of no direct deaths from alcopops although of course they are a source of alcohol abuse.)

The other area involving alcohol and tobacco which I worked in was measuring the social costs of tobacco use and alcohol abuse. That fits nicely into the next section.

Economic Evaluation and Social Costs

Before I worked on economic evaluation and social costs in the health sector I had used cost benefit analysis in other areas such as the Major Projects/Think Big. The intellectual underpinnings are much the same. I shall confine myself to sketching in some of my eccentric experiences.

I cannot resist mentioning that a good colleague and friend Rob Bowie and I were approached to consider the introduction of MRI –magnetic resonating imaging – into NZ for assisting the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis.

Couple of lessons here. One was that the machines were being heavily promoted but we could not find any evidenced-based studies of their usefulness that we need for an economic evaluation – all there were was promises. Because of the data limitations our advice was to compare the numbers of MRIs in Australia.

The second lesson is that technological forecasting is very difficult. Economists are not too good at this. Somehow you have to get a balance between hyper-hysteria and over-caution. The best advice I can give is to be aware of the difficulties, to be humble about outguessing human ingenuity, to keep an open mind and to be ready to laugh at your blunders..

My big effort int the area occurred when I was on an international working party to set out the principles to calculate the social costs of drug abuse. Previously the exercise of measuring the social costs of a drug were all over the place. There was no rigorous underpinning, rather there were arbitrary procedures which were often meaningless. Eventually our standard was published by the WHO.

I’m proud of that effort. My principle contribution was to ensure the social-cost methodology was consistent with cost-benefit analysis, not only because the CBA was a well established methodology based on standard economic theory. It also meant that the social cost exercise could be converted to a full economic evaluation.

Afterwards, I calculated New Zealand social costs of tobacco use and alcohol abuse. It is too big a job to report today on my findings – the costs were huge – or on the underlying methodology.

However, I report that subsequently a generic economist was commissioned to update my work. It was very badly done as he did not seem to understand the issues (for instance,  he did not even refer to the WHO report, but made it all up as he went along). The report was vigorously attacked by another generic economist of a different political persuasion who was equally ignorant.

Neither referred to one of the most fundamental principles in economics that a ‘cost’ is always based on an ‘opportunity cost’ and that requires a counterfactual scenario to compare with the current situation. For instance, are you talking about what happens if all tobacco consumption ceases tomorrow but there is a hangover from past consumption, or are you assuming that tobacco was never used in New Zealand? Each will give a different total social cost so it is really important that one states what the alternative scenario is, otherwise the estimate is just a muddle.

This muddle is not confined to health applications. We often get commissioned reports which make outrageous claims about the social costs or their equivalents of some policy change. Unlike in the case of the major projects the studies are not checked by independent economics and they tend not to be very reliable. The next time you see a promise that this or that will generate or cost billions of dollars, yawn.

I want to end this discussion of economic evaluation by taking you through an issue which comes from health economics but has even wider implications.

I began in a discussion of how to choose between different road designs. At issue was how to value road safety. The convention was to include in the evaluation the number of lives saved which shifted the design choice towards safer roads – an eminently sensible thing to do. The particular issue was how to put a dollar value on lives saved.

There is a tricky ethical issue here which worried the international working party. What does it mean to put a dollar value on a life – is that the ‘value of life’? The working party was confronted with the fact that some religions would not tolerate putting any value on life. What we agreed was that we were not valuing life as such but identifying the amount that public policy would spend in order to avoid a death. I shall fudge the issue for the rest of this talk.

There is a bit of a problem with the roading approach because it does not cover losses from a lower quality of life – say from permanent injury or even from short-term accident recovery and trauma. Such issues are acute in the health sector because increasingly treatments are concerned with better quality of life – including for patients in a terminal condition – and not just preventing death. Would it not be crazy to conclude that a treatment was not economic because while it gave a better quality of life it did not prolong life?

Additionally, how do we deal with the prolongation of life? Should we not favour a treatment which gave two extra years of good quality life against one which gave only six months? For instance, tobacco kills more than alcohol, but the dead from alcohol abuse tend to be decades younger than those who die from tobacco-induced diseases. Should put in relatively more effort to eliminating alcohol abuse than tobacco use than the relative death rates suggest?

Another issue is whether we treat all people the same? It turns out that even the elderly think we should not put as much resources into prolonging their lives as we should for a mother with young children. Sounds right to me.

It is a complicated task answering all these questions. There has been progress, but it is limited by useful data. A particularly robust procedure is using a measure of quality-adjusted life years. You calculate the difference in QALYs, as they are called, between two scenarios and value them according to some procedure.

When I did this for tobacco use and alcohol abuse I found that the value of the total QALYs from the elimination of the use and abuse were enormous compared to the resource costs involved – by a factor of about ten. That meant that the impact of tobacco use and alcohol abuse on the quality of our lives was far larger than it was on GDP. I long puzzled over this. Here is my brief explanation.

Economists knew from the beginning that material output (say per capita GDP) was not the same as wellbeing. Sometimes we forget, sometimes we seem to forget – the public, especially the commentariat, are much worse.

The puzzling result suggests that material output makes a smaller contribution to wellbeing than other things – things which economists do not have a lot to say about. (I add that there is a lot of other evidence to underpin this conclusion.)

That is a sobering thought. Yes, economists can improve the human condition by promoting good quality material output, but do so humbly for there are things which are outside our competence. It is possible that those who are in the health sector make a bigger contribution to wellbeing than business does – even using business criteria. That is not the national rhetoric.

One can also see the current government grappling with related questions in their promise of a wellbeing budget this year – although I do not have high hopes it will make a lot of difference.

Conclusion

I have had to take you through some tricky economics, even if superficially. Dont worry about the details. My central messages are twofold.

The minor one is that I hope I have conveyed that being a health economist can be interesting and challenging and that it can even have a little influence on human wellbeing.

Most of you have no ambition to become a health economist. The message for you is that economic issues are going to influence your health practice. Today you have seen it in terms of

– pricing and funding, and the amount of resources available to you;

– the environment and structure of the system you work within;

– population-based health policies;

– the availability of treatments.

In each case economics has contributed to shaping outcomes, often for the better, sometimes for the worse I am afraid, although even in the case of the health redisorganisation health economists played their part in the resistance.

What does this mean for a health practitioner? One can ignore economics and live a professional life buffeted by economics in ways one cannot comprehend. The buffeted will probably rely on poor quality economic theories – even fallacious ones – without realising they are using them or knowing that the theories they use are not very good.

Alternatively, one can think, as I do when I obtain medical advice or treatment. I am in charge but I am aware of my ignorance. I expect the adviser to act in my interests but I try to understand what is going on. That includes being prepared with the basics, asking questions where I do not sufficiently comprehend and – yes I admit – consulting Dr Google and the like. Being prepared including keeping abreast with the latest developments; that requires an understanding of the relevant science.

The same broad principles apply to health economics. You should respect the expertise of the professionals and be knowledgeable enough to identify quacks. Keep the experts on tap not on top. One of the reasons this paper has asked lots of questions, is because I am unsure of the answers. But I hope it will help you when you are challenged by the issues I have covered.

If you do not go down this path, do not be surprised if you find yourself limited in a world over which you have little control.

EITHER HEALTH PROFESSIONALS TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE RESOURCES THEY USE, OR

ACCOUNTANTS WILL MAKE THE TREATMENT DECISION.

Brexit: A View from Down Under

This was submitted to a British news publication in late December, but was not published. 

Brexit is a great puzzle to New Zealanders. Britain and New Zealand are affectionate cousins with common ancestors back in the nineteenth century. We have gone our own ways; even so we have views of the other’s ways.

New Zealand’s position in 1973 was that Brentrance was a matter for Britain to decide, but that it should not compromise the New Zealand economy. A common informed New Zealand view was that Britain should join what is now the EU. It had lost its empire and its new international role would be as part of a solid block of European nations which would reduce the dominance of the duopoly of the US and (then) Russia.

Now Britain says it wants to leave the block, strengthening the joint hegemony of the US and China. The strategy does not make a lot of sense to your cousins, while the way it is being done is farcical. This view is similar to what our friends and relatives living in Britain tell us – the cousins’ links are close and affectionate.

Part of the divergence in view may arise from New Zealand being a minor nation on the margins of the world, so we have to think globally. There still seem to be a lot of people in Britain who are ‘Little Englanders’, that strange withdrawal from the world based on the pretence that Britain is a higher-level power than it really is.

The odd thing is that the polls tell us that an increasing majority of the Brits are Remainers. It gives us some comfort that the entire nation is not insane. The trouble seems to be the British political system. In particular parliament does not seem to be up to the job, especially given that the majority of MPs are Remainers, so I am told.

We got fed up with the ‘elected dictatorship’ (Lord Hailsham’s term) that our system generated. Twenty-five years ago we replaced it with Mixed Member Proportional Representation (MMP), a system similar to the German one. What that means is that the party system is much more fluid.

So I don’t think New Zealand would get into such a muddle over a question of Brexit proportions. We do get parliamentary gridlock on decisions. When we do we use referenda. A century ago we were voting on the liquor question. In the last 70 years there have been another ten parliament-triggered referenda. (We may have another three at the time of the next general election in 2020.)

Had the British a more proportional representation system, perhaps MPs would abandon their party allegiances and form new parties – say Tories-for-Remain leaving the Conservatives-for-Brexit rump, and similarly for Labour MPs.  (No wonder party leaders hate proportional representation.)

But if the Mother of All Parliaments cannot get a realignment of parties (as occurred in the nineteenth century) does that mean Brexit is inevitable? That is in the hands of the MPs – hopefully some have the intelligence and commitment to find their way through the arcane parliamentary procedures.

It is not for one cousin to tell another on the other side of the world what to do. But here is a scenario an affectionate one might fantasise about.

Early in the New Year, Parliament forces the British government to the Brexiting on 29 March – say for two years. It is too soon, cuzzie, and you are not prepared. In the interim, Britain works with the other 27 EU countries to review the terms of freedom movement. Cooperatively, not threatening to leave but enabling the EU to work better. There are already numerous restrictions on freedom of movement. Perhaps all that needs to be done is to codify and systematically implement them.

Then have a referendum. We would down here. Blow the party leaders; the people should have the ultimate say. But they would no longer be voting for or against the Remain as it was in 2016 because the restrictions on freedom of movement will be better understood.

New Zealanders’ preference would be for a world with a well-functioning EU and Britain a part of it. But whatever the outcome of the referendum we’ll support you, just as we would a cousin who we thought was, say, committing themselves to an unwise marriage. (But allow us to repeat our 1973 demand that you do not damage our economic interests – well not more than you are going to damage yours.)

One of your great countrymen – your cousins admire him too – Winston Churchill thought that often a country came to the right conclusion after it had tried everything else. The dictum does not say when, nor the terrible cost of the half-baked interim solutions on the way. But it gives your friends overseas some confidence that eventually you will get there. How about soon, cuzzie, soon?

Poverty and the Statistician

Presentation to the Wellington Statistics Group, 10 December, 2018

This year’s Child Poverty Reduction Act (CPRA) marks a major innovation in social policy. Politicians – here and overseas – have promised to eliminate child poverty at some date in the future. They never have and by the time the target date is reached the promisers have moved on and cannot be held to account.

This time the promise is embedded in an act of parliament. It does not actually say how the target will be attained but it proposes monitoring reductions in child poverty, regular reporting to parliament. It is not the first such act internationally. Britain passed a Child Poverty Act in 2010. There is a fascinating paper to be written comparing the two acts, especially as the British one has been running for eight years, But I leave that for another venue. This paper is about the underlying statistical base of the New Zealand act.

For, from a statistical perspective, it has some strange features Perhaps the oddest is that it does not discuss the concept of poverty despite it being central to the act.

It is true that there are numerous measures of poverty mentioned in the CPRA – I’ll come back to them – but a statistical measure is not a concept. Section 6 of the CPRA charges the Government Statistician with making decisions that define concepts and terms. It is extraordinary that Parliament has left a public official to define the most central issue in a piece of pioneering legislation.

There are difficulties defining the concept of poverty. In rich countries there are two quite different approaches. They are well illustrated by the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security which identified the aims of the [social security] system as:

(i) First, to enable everyone to sustain life and health;

(ii) Second, to ensure, within limitations which may be imposed by physical or other disabilities, that everyone is able to enjoy a standard of living much like that of the rest of the community, and thus is able to feel a sense of participation in and belonging to the community.

(iii) Third, where income maintenance alone is insufficient (for example, for a physically disabled person), to improve by other means, and as far as possible, the quality of life available.

(Original’s italics.)

The first aim is consistent with a notion of an ‘absolute level of poverty’; the second aim defines a notion of ‘relative poverty’. (The third aim will come up as the presentation progresses.)

The Royal Commission saw the second aim of the system – that everyone should be able to enjoy a standard of living much like that of the rest of the community, and thus able to feel a sense of participation in and belonging to the community – as the basis of New Zealand social policy.

However, there are those who consider the first notion – of absolute poverty. with the state ensuring there is just enough to to sustain life and health – as the appropriate notion. This view appears regularly in the right wing blogosphere – imported from their US compatriots, I think. But it is also embedded in our existing social policy.

Recall that in the 1990 attack on the welfare state, the base social security benefit was cut from the level set by the Royal Commission to a much lower one. Except for a single lift in core benefits where there were children in 2014, its value adjusted for inflation has not been increased in the following 27 years. The clear implication is that subsequent governments have thought the level was adequate to sustain life and health while the recipients should not share in the benefits from rising prosperity. It enshrines an absolute poverty level.

In contrast, the level of New Zealand Superannuation was not cut in 1990 and its real level has been increased in line with rising real wages so that the elderly are expected to share the rising prosperity of the nation. This more European approach underpins relative poverty.

Probably the CPRA is intended to promote relative poverty. Yet there are some very ingenious people – like those who advised Ruth Richardson and Jenny Shipley – who could reinterpret the act’s undefined poverty line to an absolute poverty one. Certainly the act does not proscribe them from doing so and at various points it could be said to be introducing an absolute poverty notion as I’ll mention.

I am not going on to develop an elaborate definition of relative poverty here but instead talk about some of the treacherous issues arising when measuring poverty. I shall not do this by critiquing the CPRA, but by recalling my journey in research on poverty. What I am recounting here is set out in more detail in a memoir I am writing: Poverty, Inequality and Policy.

What definition of poverty am I using? In simple terms it is the 1972 Royal Commission’s approach of relative poverty with its crucial notion that people should be able to enjoy a standard of living much like that of the rest of the community, and able to feel a sense of participation in and belonging to the community. I have elaborated this notion in various ways, most importantly anchoring it in the philosophies of John Rawles and Amartya Sen.

Beginnings

When I returned from teaching in England in 1970 I chose distributional economics as my research topic, combining my interests in economic theory and statistical application.

It was a neglected field but had considerable practical applications. It was a huge field and I burrowed away. The question of poverty nagged at me. Almost all the useful income data was about individuals but poverty was a household phenomenon. Eventually I hit paydirt. The Department of Statistics ran a survey of household incomes and expenditure in 1973/4. It was the first such comprehensive data base.

Each household in the sample is asked to record its expenditures and income over the year, giving a ‘unit record’ for the household.

The income in the unit record is before tax, so I adjusted to an after-tax income including benefits. The disposable income is now transformed to an ‘adjusted equivalent income’ enabling the material standard of living of different size households to be compared, (I have more to say about this later;)

Next, we sneak in an important assumption: that the household shares its spending fairly. That is probably not quite true – for instance. Mothers will sacrifice their own wellbeing in order to support their children’s.

We then rank all the individuals in the sample, from those who have the lowest adjusted equivalent income to those who have the highest.

There is a detail here that is sometimes overlooked. The ranking is by individuals, not households. Ranking households can be misleading. For instance, it was recently mentioned to me that 40 percent of the poor were sole-parents and their children. Except they were counting households not individuals. Solo parent households are smaller than two-parent ones and there are many more poor individuals in two-parent households than in solo parent households.

We can now answer the following question. Suppose the poverty line is set at $X a year, then what proportion of the individuals are below that poverty line? Observe that if one has some characteristics of the individuals – say whether they are children – a poverty count can be done for the subgroup.

Couple of points for statisticians here. First sample sizes of some sub-groups in the Household Economic Survey means that there is high sampling variation and the estimates can jump around from year to year. That is the reason why the 2018 MSD report does not cover some subgroups which were considered in earlier reports. There is a need for the HES to over-sample some key groups.

Second, the method is essentially working with the cumulative frequency distribution of equivalent household incomes. The curve is steep in the range where the poverty lines fall. So even in the unlikely event of the commutative curve being accurately estimated, small changes in the choice of poverty line can result in large jumps of the numbers in poverty.

Despite these effects, known at the time, this method is broadly what I did, except I did not have access to the unit records. So I had to apply an estimated average tax rate in each category to get the disposable income; there was no alternative.

The relative poverty line I used was that judged by the Royal Commission on Social Security as the minimum to meet its second aim. (I called it the ‘Pensioner Datum Level’.) So I was not imposing my assessment of the poverty line but using an external and eminent social judgement.

My basic conclusion was that the following fell below the PDL

– 20 percent of persons over the age of 60, or 75,000 people;

– 25 percent of children, or  250,000 people;

– 20 percent of their parents, or  190,000 people;

– 5 percent of other adults, or  35,000 people;

a total of

– 18 percent of the population, or 550,000 people.

The estimate of over half a million below the chosen poverty line may be called a ‘Gee-whiz’ figure. It is great for headlines and shocking people but only offers some broad insights.

There was one salient conclusion. According to the RCSS judgement, poverty in New Zealand was a significant issue for a large number of people. There was no inherent reason why the figure was not lower, say 55,000, which perhaps the complacent would have thought reasonable. What the gee-whiz figure suggested was that New Zealand could not be complacent; that around one in five New Zealanders did not have an acceptable living standard. This was published in 1976; we are getting there.

As well as the conclusion that relative poverty was a major problem in New Zealand there were two other major takeaways. First, it was a pioneering approach in New Zealand. I was told in 1980 that New Zealand was in front of the international research effort, a lead we soon lost.

The approach was taken up by the Department of Statistics who developed a computer model based on the unit records I never had access to. The model, with improving quality of the data, has evolved into the standard workhorse for evaluating the household income distribution. The MSD annual report on households incomes uses this approach.

The second critical takeaway was that it refocused on who were poor. The conventional wisdom was that the poor were either beneficiaries or those unable to provide fully for their families because of special circumstances. What this estimate, based on survey evidence, showed was that the poor in New Zealand were (and are) mainly children and their parents, and that many of those parents were in households which were in receipt of near- and above-average wages. It would take a long time for this to become the conventional wisdom. This year’s legislation is surely the official imprimatur – 40 years later.

Household Equivalence Scales

The above account has skipped over some issues of interest to statisticians.

Recall that it is necessary to compare the effective spending power of different households. In practice, our households are compared by the numbers of adults and children. Importantly, we do not allow for the age of children though obviously their needs vary. For instance, an adolescent girl needs more food than her father; I do not discuss clothing allowances.

The studies use a Household Equivalence Scale. In principle it is a table which sets out the relative needs of a household with, say, A adults and C children, compared to a reference household of, say, two adults. In practice the table can be summarised by a simple mathematical function involving a couple of parameters. One parameter gives the relativity between the average adult and the average child; the other measures the household economies of scale, since a household with more people can make some savings compared to people living in separate households.

The immediate reaction of a statistician is that we could estimate the parameters, but that is not what happened. Rather, the standard HES we use. reflects a personal judgement for which there appears to be no systematic empirical evidence. The parameters were first set in 1978 and then changed in a 1988 for no clear reason. The 1988 household equivalence scale is the one used by the Ministry of Social Development and most poverty commentators, although the annual MSD report provides estimates for some other scales but they were not estimated either.

There is no guidance given in the current legislation about the choice of Household Equivalence Scale. The impression is that the drafters of the statute were not even aware there was a problem.

Fortunately, there have been empirical attempts to estimate an HES based on evidence. Stalwart statisticians included Harry Smith and Srikanta Chatterjee but the best New Zealand work was by Claudio Michelini of Massey University.

When I was working with Suzie Ballantyne on a short-lived HRC grant I had planned to estimate HESs. Fortunately Claudio took over the hard grind, estimating scientifically based equivalence scales from ‘preference-consistent extended linear expenditure systems’. Thus Claudio (and other econometricians) derived HESs from actual data – from the evidence of how people behave. Claudio and I discussed how his scale could be improved. He was keen to do so but, alas, he was struck down with a brain tumour in the middle of his project and so his work was never completed.

Does it matter? Many people see little difference when they look at the scales. But the small differences can matter a lot. For instance, if you used the Michelini scale rather than the official MSD scale, the relativity between those in single households and couples changes quite markedly.

You might think that by using the same Household Equivalence Scales as other economies gives them some integrity. Exactly wrong! Institutional arrangements matter. To see this, consider what would happen if the government abandoned free education and give each household the cash equivalent. Since their income would go up, each family would be less likely to be measured as in poverty. The paradox arises because the household equivalence scale should be adjusted for the additional schooling charges the household faces.

So arrangements in public supply of services, such as education and health, matter. Price changes, including the cost of servicing a mortgage, matter. It would be a miracle if a household equivalence scale which was correct in 1988 was as true thirty years later.

The different HESs give different estimates for the numbers below the poverty line – generally the Michelini numbers of poor are higher. The composition of the poor is also affected – the Michelini HES finds more poor children and their parents in multiple adult households than does the official MSD one.

Looking at the evidence makes me pretty sure that the assumed economies of scale effect is too strong. That would mean that the poverty line (and therefore recommended support) for large families is too low and any count of the poor in large households is underestimated. It gives policy an incentive to address poverty in small households, ignoring it in large ones where it is more serious.

Housing

Spending on accommodation is always a difficult issue. The problem arises because a family in exactly the same house may have quite different outgoings: they may be paying the market rent, or their rent may be subsidised, or they may own the house freehold and their outgoings may be just rates, insurance and maintenance, or they may own it with a mortgage so that on top of the freeholder’s outgoings there will be the debt servicing, and there are those who pay next to nothing because the house goes with the job or there is some family or trust arrangement.

The counsel of perfection is that the difference between outgoings and the market rent should be treated as additional income (or perhaps negative income). Applying the counsel is tricky. Suzie and I made good econometric progress and the indications were that it improved the statistical results. But Claudio did not stay around long enough to apply our approach to his HESs.

The alternatives have been either to ignore the housing outlay problem or to deduct the housing outlays from income. Both are proposed in the new CPRA.

The argument for ignoring it may be that income support should be adjusted for housing outlays as is done to some extent (e.g. via the accommodation supplement or subsidised state housing). At the aggregate level it is assumed that the impact of the heterogeneity will average out so the total in poverty is not affected. That is unlikely but the overall effect may be small. Even so, it is likely to lead to an undercount of those with heavy mortgage outgoings. Conversely, some of those who have lower outgoings may appear to be below the poverty line when they are actually a little better off.

Deducting housing costs from income might seem to be a good idea, although an economist bridles at deducting a spending flow from an income flow – it is like subtracting apples from oranges. Fastidiousness aside, the next step by the orthodoxy is astonishing: the same household equivalence scale is applied to income less housing costs as the one applied to total income.

But the standard HES, used where housing costs are included, has strong economies of scale arising from the cost savings that large households have in their housing bills. If the HES is correct for total income, it must be wrong for income less housing costs where there are not the same economies of scale. The consequence is that once more the incidence of poverty is under-represented in larger households. (The 2018 MSD reports uses a different OECD scale when adjusted housing costs are deducted, with lower economies of scale. It is not empirically based.)

In conclusion using the current arbitrary Household Equivalence Scale probably underestimates the poverty line and the numbers in poverty of the following:

– those in larger households

– those in households with adolescent children

– those with high housing costs arising from high mortgages or high rents

– those in households with workers with employment costs.

Choosing a Relative Poverty Line

Back in the mid-1970s, the Royal Commission judgement as to the relative poverty line, based on listening to the evidence submitted to it, was the best we had. With time, we try to find a better estimate.

In the 1990s, the Poverty Measurement Project asked focus groups of relatively poor people what they thought was the minimum adequate household expenditure for their households.

Unfortunately, the results were nonsensical – they seemed to suggest an individual adult would be satisfied with a negative income.

Eventually the Project abandoned the focus group approach and settled on a proportion of median equivalised household incomes. Where they got the notion from is unclear, although it is used in international comparisons, perhaps because it is tricky to calculate the top and the bottom of the income distribution. The median benchmark is central to the poverty indicators in the CPRA.

The median is the middle of the income distribution with as many above it as below it. Advocates argue over whether the percentage should be 50 or 60 of the median income. They do not provide much evidence for their opinions.

The weakness of a median income benchmark is illustrated by the following paradox. A median-income-based poverty line makes it possible for measured poverty to be reduced by taking income from those in the middle of the income distribution and giving it to those at the top. The income of the middle household falls and so does a median-income-based poverty line. Thus numbers of those measured in poverty are reduced even though there is no change in the living standards of the poor.

Suppose the median (middle) income is 100 units, and we use the 50 percent of median income poverty line, so anyone in a household below 50 units is in poverty. Now suppose the government rejigs the tax system in favour of the rich by raising taxes on those in the middle and using the proceeds to cut taxes at the top. Suppose the higher taxes on the middle reduced median income to 90 units from 100 units. The measured poverty level falls to 45 units and all the people in the 45 units to 50 units income range are no longer deemed to be in poverty.

This is not just a meticulous scholar-statistician generating a theoretical paradox. This actually happened when in the early 1990s, when the government redistribution transferred income to the rich. The Poverty Measurement Project reported the numbers in poverty fell. Any objective observer at the time saw plenty of evidence of rising deprivation. Yet the faulty poverty measure showed exactly the opposite. Both the Treasury and a right-wing think-tank, the Business Round Table, trumpeted the success of their pro-rich redistributive policies at reducing poverty.

It is not hard to switch to a mean benchmark: 60 percent of the median is would be 49 percent of the mean today. Before 1990 it would have been 54 percent. In effect the pro-rich tax changes in the late 1980s cut the relative poverty line by 10 percent if it was benchmarked by the median.

Not only is the mean easier to understand, has better statistical properties and is harder to manipulate, but it is also easier to forecast. A statistician is left bewildered when we use the median benchmark.

The 50 percent median seems too low, at least in terms of one case study in which I was involved. In 2012 I had the task of offering guidance to the Social Security Appeal Authority as to the income which would be sufficient to enable a particular family of Meg and her early-teenage daughter, Stacey, to attain an adequate standard of living. Since this involves judgement, I estimated ten different rates. One – based on American standards – was clearly too high but eight clustered around $540 p.w. In contrast, the family’s actual income was about $470 a week, so they needed a 15 percent boost (plus more for exceptional expenses).

There was a lower outlier, well away from the other eight estimates. It was the 50 percent median figure of $455 p.w. – much the same as what the family was actually receiving.

But the amount the family was receiving was clearly inadequate. There is an uninformed view that all the poor really need is financial advice. This family had gone to the local budget advisory service. The budget it prepared for them provided for food, housing, electricity, medical and educational costs, transport and phone. It left them with just $19 a week for everything else: clothing and footwear, entertainment, recreation, dental care, consumer durables, insurance, haircuts, presents, school trips and pets.

It was hard to conclude from the budget that the family had an adequate standard of living which would enable them to belong to and participate in society. The conclusion is reinforced by two instances.

To eke out their inadequate income the two skipped some of their medical needs, but the big saving was on food, usually only $40 to $80 a week, well below the level of $130 for the simple but nutritious meals recommended by the University of Otago Department of Human Nutrition. Meg and Stacey depended on chips. They knew it was not healthy but chips are the cheapest way to fill one’s belly, putting off hunger and leaving some cash for other necessities.

Second, not only was Stacey’s health compromised by poor nutrition, unhealthy housing and skipping some healthcare but she was excluded by not being able to afford to participate with her school friends in social events (while I was there she missed out on going with them to a gig). These compromised her education, as did the lack of funds for the ongoing charges schools place on today’s children. Stacey’s adulthood prospects were not good.

One concludes that a 50-percent-of-median poverty line is far below any relative poverty line the Royal Commission might have envisaged. Yet it is included among the indicators in the CPRA. But even were it to be struck out, the reference to a median benchmark remains treacherous.

Instructively, the British Child Poverty Act does not contemplate a 50 percent median poverty measure, mentioning only the 60 percent one. One has an uneasy feeling that the New Zealand legislation enables us to sneak back to an absolute poverty line, if a government wants.

Non-Income Measures of Poverty

The paradigm used in the CPRS was developed in the 1970s; can we progress? Then I used income because I did not have any other measure. In any case, supplementing income is the main means of dealing with poverty (although, as the Royal Commission’s third aim mentions, there are others).

In fact, back in the early 1970s there had been an attempt at an alternative approach. In 1974 David Ferguson led a DSW study of the living standards of the elderly, which was used to calibrate an appropriate public pension level for them. It is implicit in the analysis I did of Meg and Stacey.

From 2001 the MSD has been constructing a scale based on non-monetary indicators which will measure economic living standards. (Its acronym is ELSI). It was an early innovation in the now fashionable international effort to better measure wellbeing.

Essentially it involves asking a sample of households some 40 questions that relate to

– possessions (personal and household items),

– social participation activities (interaction with family and friends, holidays),

– degree of economising – including having no need for economising – across many areas (food, clothing, recreation, use of medical services),

and

– self-ratings (of the respondent’s standard of living, satisfaction with standard of living, and adequacy of current income to meet basic everyday needs).

From these are constructed the ELSI scale.

In principle the ELSI scale could be used as a measure for individual poverty identification but, practically, misleading responses to the questions could raise the amount one was entitled to. Essentially the ELSI is a research tool. (The MSD have moved onto a Material Wellbeing Index (MWI) and a deprivation index (DEP-17).)

Currently the MSD reports on the ELSI each year separately from its income report, but with attention to the relationship between the two. In principle one could use the ELSI scale to set a poverty line. Perhaps the CPRA refers to the ELSI in various places. But it still involves a judgement.

(Incidentally, there has been little serious statistical investigation of the data bases in either he Household Survey, the ELSI (or SOFIE discussed below) despite each having a rich statistical base. Fundamentally this is because an unwillingness to fund serious research into household incomes and poverty (although limited access to unit records has not helped.)

When I look at the set of questions I wonder whether they are over-dependent upon choices by middle-income middle-aged males. As far as I know, there has been no attempt to do a pre-survey asking people what they think should be asked.

I mention – this became very evident as I wrote my memoir – that one of the constant challenges I have had in my research work has been to ensure the distinctive features of women’s experience are recognised – a particularly important issue since more women than men are in poverty.

This is not an uninformed rant against male statisticians; rather it is a wish that there were more top-quality women social statisticians. There have been numerous places where I had to recognise women were different, but another example has arisen recently – period poverty. There is no relevant question in the ELSI questionnaire. How should it handle an issue which is clearly vital to some but not to everyone?

The same is true for children even if the poverty focus is on them. Earlier I mentioned mothers who make sacrifices to enhance their children’s wellbeing. Perhaps sometimes children do the same to protect the rest of the family.

An even bigger problem is that, as I mentioned with Stacey, deprivation now may affect future life chances. Here we are suing a wider conception based on, say, the RCSS’ notion, or that of Rawles or of Amartya Sen’s notion of ‘capabilities’ – which is a development – inhibition of life chances is clearly a serious part of the concept of poverty.

Sadly there is not a lot of data which enables the assessment of life chances. The New Zealand longitudinal studies did not collect a lot of economic material on the families involved. The recently reported MSD study which was interpreted by some to show that poverty caused criminality, It is based on evidence about families with nine month children. The confidence interval for prospects two decades out must be huge.

Just to complete the dynamics story, I mention the Survey of Family, Income and Employment (SOFIE) which enabled tracking household incomes over seven years. It showed many experience ups and downs which may mean they are below the income poverty line for only part of the time. However, some households remained recalcitrantly below the line through all seven years. Sadly, but as you might expect given the sad state of our social analysis, the valuable survey has been ended.

Conclusion

We conclude that the new legislation aiming to reduce child poverty has a poor quality statistical base but it is going in the right direction. Does it matter?

While low quality analysis is irritating to a professional statistician, the system envisaged in the CPRA can also be corrupted. Recall Gilling’s Law which states that the way the game is scored shapes the way the game is played. What if the scoring system is distorted?

Even if the poverty reduction game is played by people of goodwill, distorted outcomes are going to happen. I have mentioned how the system seems to be biased against households with more children. An even more egregious possibility is that, as I have explained, on some poverty measures one can get a reduction in measured poverty by tax cuts which favour the rich with no effect on the living standards of the poor. If one is competent, it is easy to think of many more ways of corrupting the outcome. I wont describe them; I am not applying for that job.

As in the case of the bias against large families, the poor quality outcomes may occur unintentionally. Consider the minister looking at various policy options each of which has the measured poverty reduction. The minister is likely to choose the one which gives the greatest measured reduction. Except it may not have the greatest impact on reducing poverty.

I regret having to come to such a sad conclusion. One wonders how we have ended up with such a mess. The answer may be the poor statistical skills of the social policy community.

The government has embarked upon a courageous course to reduce child poverty. The Child Poverty Reduction Act is a mix of visionary political leadership with inept social policy and analysis. Let us hope that leadership outweighs the inept.

Submission to the National Archives and National Library Ministerial Group

The Issue

John Stuart Mill argued it was better to be an unhappy philosopher than a happy pig; that all transactions and assets are not of equal value. However, the New Zealand Government system largely treats heritage assets similarly to other assets. Today’s governance needs to move past the happy-pig approach to one which recognises that some assets are more valued than others – more valuable than what is recorded in the ‘books’ – and need to be managed differently.

What is needed is a new institutional form which recognises the special characteristics of the entities responsible for the stewardship of such heritage assets. The new kind of institution would be called an Autonomous Kaitiaki Entity or AKE.

Summary Conclusion

At the heart of this submission is the proposition that there are assets which the Crown is said to own (or claims to own) but which are really held in trust by the Crown on behalf of all New Zealanders.

The proposal is that the National Library and Nga Taonga: the New Zealand Archive of Film, Television and Sound should each be categorised and treated as Autonomous Kaitiaki Entities (AKEs), which are government entities whose prime purpose is stewardship of its assets to be kept in perpetuity.

The AKE would be a new category in the categories of Crown entities, having some of the characteristics of Autonomous Crown Entities (ACEs) and some of the characteristics of Independent Crown Entities (ICEs).

The acronym is deliberate; ake is the Maori word for ‘forever’. The primary distinction from the other two categories is that the activities of an AKE are dominated by assets which it is entrusted to hold forever.

The rest of this submission elaborates the notion of an AKE, illustrated by the National Library. The same logic applies to Nga Taonga. The submission also considers other institutions. – the Museum of New Zealand and Heritage New Zealand – which should be AKEs.

Characterising AKEs

Purpose

The purpose of AKEs is to recognise that an entity whose primary purpose is the management of heritage assets is quite different from those concerned with the other activities of government and that they should be managed differently.

Definition

An AKE is a Crown entity whose activities are dominated by the management of assets which are to be maintained in perpetuity.

For example, both the legal deposit collection of the National Library and most of the collection of the Alexander Turnbull Library are heritage assets.

The relevant assets may have been obtained by Crown purchase, by some other statutory means of acquisition (such as the National Library’s legal deposit collection) or by gifts from individuals and elsewhere from the private sector. In the latter case it is often ambiguous whether those gifts were to the Crown or to some wider entity such as the people of New Zealand.

Governance

An AKE is governed by a board, with a chief executive reporting to it.

The Board is appointed by the Governor-General on the recommendation of the responsible Minister.

The Minister does not have power to direct an AKE on government policy unless specifically provided for in another act of parliament.

The power to set direction and annual expectations is held by the Minister.

(The above is drawn from the SSC’s governance characteristics of ACEs and ICEs.)

Legislation

Typically, each AKE should have its own specific legislation.

In addition there would be an overall AKE Act of Parliament which would set a framework and be available for use by other holders of heritage assets in local government and the private sector.

The AKE Act would set out the procedures for disposal of a heritage asset in the rare occasions when that was appropriate (e.g. the transfer between two AKEs or repatriation to a rightful owner). It would require approval by the Governor-General following advice from an officer of parliament such as the Chief Archivist. It is vital that a minister or chief executive cannot alienate heritage assets without public scrutiny although that has happened in the past.

The AKE Act should be designed to give confidence to a donor that once a donation is accepted as a heritage asset, it will not be arbitrarily privatised and it will be properly maintained, Clear rules about trusteeship by the Crown will engender trust by donors. (On occasions putative donations have been gifted elsewhere because the donors have not had confidence in the Crown entity.)

The statute could refer to the substantial body of law on private trusts where relevant (to guide court decisions in the rare cases where they are required).

Minister

Every Act of Parliament normally requires a responsible Minister. Very often the Minister for each AKE would be the Minister for Arts, Culture and Heritage, who would be advised by the Ministry of Culture and Heritage. This would have the effect of reinforcing the MCH’s expertise in advising on AKEs rather than having competence scattered throughout the government.

Visible Independence

Public trust requires that each AKE have a visible independent public presence.. Obscuring them in a huge government department, destroying their identity – as the DIA did with Archives New Zealand and the National Library – reduces their reputation and integrity in the public mind thereby undermining their ability to preserve assets in perpetuity.

Crown Accounts

Currently there are assets included in the Crown accounts which were privately gifted on the basis they would be maintained in perpetuity (although there is no guarantee of that). Their ‘ownership’ is ambiguous.

Additionally, the Crown accounts places a commercial or market value upon them and upon other heritage assets, as if they could be sold on the private markets.

(For instance, the document on which Te Tiriti o Waitangi was written was valued at $33m in 2005, although any sensitive valuation would conclude it was priceless.)

Market valuation is useful for identifying each asset but it ignores the ambiguities of ownership and their significance, so heritage assets should be recorded in the Crown Accounts separately from commercial assets to emphasize they are distinct. .In particular there should be a separate line entry in the Statement of Financial Position.

Which Crown Entities should be AKEs?

At the very least, AKEs should cover the following Crown entities:

Heritage New Zealand: Pouhere Taonga;

Museum of New Zealand: Te Papa Tongarewa;

National Library; Te Puna Matauranga

Nga Taonga: the New Zealand Archive of Film, Television and Sound.

Other ACEs and ICEs do not have a primary purpose of preserving assets forever and it is therefore not appropriate for them to be AKEs.

Should Archives New Zealand be an AKE? It is true that it holds public records in perpetuity, but the Chief Archivist has a central constitutional role in the holding of the executive to account and therefore should be an Officer of Parliament. The Chief Archivist should be invited to consider the relevance of AKE status to Archives New Zealand.

Should the Department of Conservation be an AKE? It holds land and other environmental assets with the expectation they should be maintained in perpetuity (some were private gifts). However it is currently a department of state rather than a Crown Entity. A separate enquiry should consider the relevance of AKEs to the conservation estate.

Correction to submission to Parliamentary Select Committee on the Child Poverty Reduction Bill.

In my original submission on the Child Poverty Reduction Bill, I had a separate discussion proposing adding a section to the part of the bill which modifies the Oranga Tamariki Act (and will be eventually be separated out) requiring that in all activities involving a child, the best interests of the child should be paramount.

It turns out that section 6 of the Oranga Tamariki Act already states:

  1. Welfare and interests of child or young person paramount

In all matters relating to the administration or application of this Act (other than Parts 4 and 5 and sections 351 to 360), the welfare and interests of the child or young person shall be the first and paramount consideration, having regard to the principles set out in sections 5 and 13.

(The exceptions refer to situations before the youth justice court.)

Thus this part of my submission is redundant and I have withdrawn it (and apologised to the select committee for the oversight). The withdrawn part of the submission is at the end of this piece,

This withdrawal in no way invalidates the main submission, that while I welcome the intention of the bill, major changes are needed to develop  robust and non-corruptible measures for assessing poverty.

I think the reason I made the mistake is that, as is usual, I consulted with a number of experts but, like me, none were social workers. The fact is that while this may be a statutory requirement in the Oranga Tamariki Act (and earlier versions of it), we see the principle repeatedly infringed in other areas of public policy; in my expereince in the case management of beneficiaries.  (It is sort of ironic, isn’t it, that children at risk have better statutory protection than most children?)

 

The following is the section taken out of the submission because it is redundant.

Part V The Best Interest of the Child

5.1    The Bill should include the principle that all activities of Oranga Tamariki involving a child, the best interests of the child should be paramount.

5.2    This would put into a New Zealand statute a central principle of the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Children which New Zealand has ratified.

5.3    In particular its Principle 2 states

The child shall enjoy special protection, and shall be given opportunities and facilities, by law and by other means, to enable him to develop physically, mentally, morally, spiritually and socially in a healthy and normal manner and in conditions of freedom and dignity. In the enactment of laws for this purpose, the best interests of the child shall be the paramount consideration.

Māori Marches On.

Speech for launch at Parliament of Heke Tangata, Māori in Markets and Cities on Tuesday 15 May 2018. The event is sponsored by Te Whānau o Waipareira, the National Urban Māori Authority and Oratia Media at the invitation of the Hon. Willie Jackson, Associate Minister for Māori Development.

Kia Ora Koutou Katoa.

I begin by apologising for my inability to speak Māori. My brain seems to lack the bit which enables multilingualism, not only in Māori but in other languages. I am not proud of this inability. I have tried to make up for it by using those skills I have to support Māori.

So I was delighted when Te Whānau o Waipareira invited me to write a report on the Māori postwar experience and I am proud that they thought my work was worth publishing, as we celebrate today.

It is said that you cannot tell a book by its cover. This book is an exception because its cover captures its central theme. On the back is Whina Cooper with her granddaughter starting out on a lonely dirt road in the Far North, a road which seems to be going nowhere. The front cover shows the 1975 Land March, which she led, passing through Auckland. So Māori got from the back of beyond to the big city. The book goes on to ask what happened then.

The answer turns out to be complicated. Māori got to the city but they did not settle easily. The first half of the book is a narrative of the heke (the migration). The second is an inventory of Māori attainment; on most measurable socioeconomic indicators Māori are about a generation behind Pākehā – that is, Māori today are about where their Pākehā equivalent were 25 years ago.

The book develops two reasons why this happened. The first is that while Māori were successful in their rural environment, it was not a good preparation for city living while our public institutions did little to facilitate any adjustment.

Additionally, as Māori arrived, the economy deteriorated, especially the labour market. Unemployment rose and generic skills became less in demand compared with specialised skills. A little later the neoliberal economic policies of the 1980s and 1990s exacerbated these labour market trends while their distributional policies were deliberately biased against the poor and therefore disproportionally hit Māori.

The story and the outcome are detailed in the book – you will have to read it. But this is the time to acknowledge those who helped me with producing it.

First, I pay tribute my intellectual tīpuna. The book’s whakapapa goes back to that marvellous collection of essays The Maori People Today: a General Survey, edited by Professor Ivor Sutherland and dominated by Sir Āpirana Ngata. It describes the state of Māori some 80 years ago. Every contribution is valuable, but as an economist I must also mention Professor Horace Belshaw.

More recently, I have valued greatly the hospitality of many Māori, most often in work involved with Treaty claims. There are too many to list today; some are here, some elsewhere, some have gone onto higher places, although one has only made it to the third floor. John Tamihere, and his colleagues at Te Whānau o Waipareira, deserves special recognition for their vision and support.

It is always a pleasure to acknowledge a good book publisher for a fine production. Thankyou Peter Dowling and his colleagues at Oratia Books. It is great to be able to once more thank publicly Elizabeth Caffin who is there for the first stumblings as I try to shape a piece of thinking into a coherent thought, right through its development to the final product.

Many will think that the book has a melancholy message; that most Māori have been in the cities and the modern markets for a couple of generations and they still have not really got there. Another way of presenting the same message is that they are keeping up, catching up and the book identifies policies which can speed up the catch up.

But there is another, stronger, message in the book. That remarkably, despite the huge transition and despite the pressures on them to conform – to assimilate, Māori have maintained their Māoritanga. They have done so by intelligently adapting rather than rigidly resisting change.

The book has many examples of this adaptation but today it is appropriate to highlight the achievements of Te Whānau o Waipareira and other urban Māori authorities which are an indigenous response to the needs of Māori struggling in cities isolated from their iwi and potentially from their Māoritanga, struggling in the market without all the skills that the market economy takes for granted. It is especially poignant that in neither case was public policy well suited to help them meet the challenge.

The book quotes the Duke in Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel, The Leopard, saying to his nephew, ‘If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.’ Māori might adopt this as a motto to summarise the extraordinary success of their heke despite the hurdles and their ongoing development of adaption while maintaining their integrity. Except it would, of course, be in Māori. It would therefore be appropriate to end my remarks asking John to express the whakataukī:

‘Ki te hiahia he ao toitū nga tikanga o tēnei wā – me mātua whakarere ka aua tikanga.’

 

A review of the book in the NBR is here.

 

 

Maori have been trapped in a poverty cycle

Dale Husband | May 15, 2018 This was published in e-tangata.

Brian Easton is a 75-year-old economist, statistician, academic, historian, columnist, and author. For much of his career, he’s made a specialty of explaining to New Zealanders what’s going right and what’s going wrong in our economy.

In his latest book, Heke Tangata, which was commissioned by Te Whanau o Waipareira and is being launched this week, he turns to the post-war Maori migration to the towns and cities — and to the political and economic drivers that have shaped the experiences of Maori since then.

In this korero with Dale, he shares some of the observations he’s made from more than 40 years of studying the data on Maori.

Kia ora, Brian. We’ll get on to the subject of economics in a few moments, but would you first tell us something about your background and about the Easton clan?

We Eastons can trace ourselves back to a convict in Australia. He came to New Zealand, married, and had a family. That’s four generations ago now. Another line comes through in 1842, from one of the settlers in Nelson — that goes back five generations. And then there’s my mother’s side. She was born in England and came here at the age of about one or two. There is no Maori in my direct whakapapa.

There weren’t a lot of Maori in my upbringing, either. Even so, I was very aware of the issues. For instance, I remember debating the Hunn report in the 1960s. The argument then was whether Maori should integrate or assimilate. Assimilate meant becoming like non-Maori.

I was a supporter of integration, probably because I found the insensitivity to others’ differences intolerable. I’m pretty sure I didn’t expect, at that time, the extent to which all our lives would be enriched by a vibrant Maori element in our society, but even then I thought assimilation was a stupid idea.

I’m curious to know what drew you into the study of economics.

When I was a teenager, I was very interested in social problems, although most of my contemporaries were not. I was actually trained as a scientist. I went to university and did a degree in applied mathematics. Then I switched over to economics, which turned out to be a wonderful subject for an applied mathematician if you kept your feet on the ground.

When I came back to New Zealand in the 1970s — I’d been away teaching at the University of Sussex in England — I began working on the income distribution within society, with a special focus on Maori. For an economist like myself, Maori are an excellent group to study, because the data on Maori is separated out from everyone else.

So you can monitor what’s going on in Maoridom in a way you can’t with other groups in the community. Maori became an indicator of what was happening to people who were lowest in the income distribution.

Was it in your varsity studies that you first recognised Maori disadvantage?

I can’t remember. There were not a lot of Maori in the Christchurch of the ‘50s I grew up in, so you hardly noticed them. I do remember that in my class at secondary school there were three boys who, in retrospect, were criticised unnecessarily. One was Maori, one was Jewish, and one was Chinese.

At that stage, I was unaware of what you might call incipient racism. At university, it was things like the “No Maori, No Tour” campaign that got me thinking, along with the peace movement. There was a very strong Maori presence in that.

As for disadvantage, it wasn’t really until I began measuring it in the ‘70s, that it was just so evident. I used to use the three-times rule. Maori were three times worse off than non-Maori. We didn’t have a lot of Pasifika in those days. If you measured unemployment, poverty rates, a whole series of variables like that, you discovered that Maori were markedly worse off.

One place where the three-times rule didn’t apply was the mortality rate. Maori death rates were 50 percent higher, not three times higher.

Later, I was invited by iwi and related institutions to work on various Treaty claims. A salutary learning experience, but a heartwarming one. I am very proud of my contribution there.

What do you think has contributed to the perception of Maori financial incapability which seemed to be so prevalent during the ‘60s?

In the sort of circles I’m in, we don’t think of Maori as financially incapable. We think they’re poor. I explore this distinction in a report I wrote for the Waipareira Trust about what happened to Maori after the Second World War.

It’s more of a history book than a report. In it, I try to explain why Maori are poor, without using shortcuts like saying it’s the result of racism. My opinion is that Maori have been trapped in a poverty cycle.

Why do you think so many Pakeha commentators gloss over the dynamics that contribute to Maori underachievement, not only financially but also in health stats, educational stats. You’ve tried to explain some of why that might be, but many haven’t delved into the reasons behind it.

It’s a national characteristic that we tend to go for simple, superficial explanations. We tend to grab a number and talk about it rather than ask why. The phrase I use — and I’m not just talking about Maori issues, but generally — is that New Zealand commentators often use statistics the way drunks use lamp posts: for support rather than illumination and insight.

And I’ve always been a person who, when I see a difference, I ask why, rather than jump to an easy superficial explanation.

Heke Tangata Have government attitudes stymied Maori potential?

There are two points. For a long time, the government was not particularly sensitive to Maori issues, in terms of Maori being different from non-Maori. Very often there was no recognition of Maori aims and priorities. I remember the big row four or so decades ago over tangihanga leave. It was actually the unions that drove the provision to allow tangihanga leave. That was one example of becoming sensitive to a particular Maori concern.

The second issue is the one that I’ve written about in Heke Tangata, which is that Maori made a massive transition from a very rural life to a highly urban one in a very short time, and the country as a whole did little to facilitate that.

A key person in understanding that transition is Sir Apirana Ngata. In the 1930s, he said —and I’m not quoting him exactly — that the majority of Maori in the first half of the 20th century were living in a subsistence economy. They earned a little bit of cash, but essentially they lived off the land.

Now let’s think about the move from subsistence life to city life. A person who’s living on rural land has a lot of skills. They know how to hunt. They know how to fish. They know how to plant a vege garden, they have odd job skills, and so on. But that’s not what’s required in the cities.

And it was worse than that, because Maori rural education was poorer than non-Maori rural education, which itself wasn’t very good. So, what you had was people adapted for a lifestyle which was not where they were going to live, and lacking the educational skills to adapt. So, they flowed into the cities while the country did little to respond to the issues the migration raised.

Now, the awful thing that happened, just incredibly bad luck, was that as Maori began arriving in cities in really big numbers — which they had to do, because they couldn’t live on the land that they had — they hit a period of peak unemployment in the late 1970s.

They were totally stranded in the sense that, although they’ve acquired some on-the-job training, they’re still primarily working in unskilled jobs. It was in those jobs that unemployment rose sharply. That continued in the 1980s, and it was worsened by Rogernomics.

What Rogernomics did, among other things, was to eradicate a lot of jobs. And we know that Maori were affected more than non-Maori. Maori health deteriorated and Maori mortality rose during the Rogernomics era quite against the long term trend. Moreover the Rogernomic policies were deliberately biased against the poor and therefore disproportionally hit Maori.

So, when we get through that period, what have we got? We’ve got a large, young population — it’s younger than the national average —  and it’s an unskilled population. It’s not ready for the high-skilled jobs that are being created in the economy. That’s the basic economic story I’m trying to tell.

There was a massive slump in wool prices internationally, too, which affected the Maori post-war urban drift, didn’t it?

It complicated it. Maori who were sheep farmers were, of course, screwed by the fall in wool prices, and they may well have been more screwed than most, being on lower incomes. But the structural wool price fall in 1966 triggered a traumatic structural change, which led to the rising unemployment in the ‘70s and Rogernomics in the ‘80s.

And low-skilled workers have borne the brunt of economic change?

Yes, that’s been a major trend in my lifetime. When I was young, it was relatively easy to get jobs which were not very skilled. So, in the university holidays, I got jobs which were not very skilled, but they just needed me. What’s happened in the modern economy is that we’ve moved out of those general-skill jobs to very specific, high-skilled jobs.

I use an example which doesn’t particularly represent Maoridom, but illustrates the problem. One of my holiday jobs was working on building sites. Now, I’m not very skilled at building, but I could help build an ordinary wooden-frame house. In the ‘80s, the building industry began to use more and more sophisticated technologies, and, unfortunately, many of those sophisticated technologies were being used by people who were not properly trained.

That led to leaky buildings. Part of the thing about leaky buildings is that if you used the new technologies right, then you didn’t get a leaky building. But if you didn’t, the whole house might have to be destroyed.

So you can see in the building industry a general upgrading of skills — from the likes of me working on a building site in the ‘50s, virtually incompetent, to a situation where people with quite reasonable old-style skills in frame housing, using the new technology, led to this disaster we’ve had around leaky buildings.

To give another example from the building industry. When the Canterbury earthquakes occurred, the government said, quite rightly: “We’re short of skilled people to rebuild these houses. We’re going to have to import people from overseas.”

But a more rational government would’ve also said: “We’re going to have to upgrade our building skills. So, we’re going to put in a programme to do this, which would include Maori, so that eventually we won’t have to depend on imported skills.”

What’s happened? We’re still bringing in foreign tradesman because we haven’t had that trade upgrading process. So, on the one hand we have Maori and non-Maori who are unemployed, but we can’t put them into the building programme because they don’t have the skills, and we failed to give them the skills. That’s been a persistent failure throughout New Zealand’s post-war history.

And this filters through to education underachievement and the low-skilled status that many of us have had to deal with. But you also suggest, too, that, in some ways, Maori are two decades behind Pakeha. Can you explain that?

If you look at current Maori social indicators and compare them with Pakeha a generation earlier — say 25 years — you’ll find they’re roughly comparable. That is, Maori are about a generation behind Pakeha. And so, while they’ve made progress, a Maori today has the situation of a Pakeha in 1990. You get a similar result with Pasifika.

Middle New Zealand, however, tends to say we’re all the same, and that we’ve all got the same opportunities. What you’re suggesting here is that subsequent political interventions and economic interventions still have some time lag before Maori and Pasifika catch up.

You need to remember that a lot of Pakeha have also suffered from the country’s failure to upgrade skills and from educational underachievement. They don’t stand out so clearly in the data, though, simply because they meld in with the rest of society. But, because we’ve separated Maori out in the data, we can actually see them.

I’ve always worried, say in educational achievement, about focusing too much on Maori, rather than saying we have a group of people with poor-quality educational and training achievement and we’re not doing enough for them. And, yes, a large proportion of those — far too large a proportion — are Maori.

Even so, we shouldn’t, in my view, be giving priority to upgrading Maori students while ignoring others who are in similar educational difficulties. We should have educational policies which upgrade across the board, and will benefit Maori in the process.

Are you hopeful that the Treaty settlements will change the economic landscape for Maori?

The truth is that the Treaty settlements aren’t that big. Initially, when the $1 billion fiscal cap for the settlements was announced, I calculated that what was needed was in fact around $100 billion. So Maori are getting a very small contribution. And although the settlements are strengthening the traditional corporate iwi, it’s not all that Maori collectively need.

In New Zealand, the government has always been near the centre of these issues. Trade training, which is really important, is an example. But the government has been very weak in dealing with that, and it was practically obliterated in the 1990s.

Then we need to bear in mind that the government programmes need to be not so much specifically for Maori but programmes that are highly beneficial for Maori.

There’s the recurring question of Maori underachievement in education. But one aspect of that is whether the system is producing enough Maori expertise in economics.

It’d be an enormous help if we had a cadre of well-trained Maori social scientists. There’s not enough of them. Our students aren’t getting the skills in statistics, mathematics, history, and English to be good economists. If we had many more of them, we’d be getting somewhere.

Waipareira asked you to cast your eye across the whole of society, not just economics — and so you touch on housing disparities, health, and educational issues and the like. What are the lessons we can take from that research?

The book explains how Maori got to the place they’re in today, and that provides a platform for thinking about the future.

Among a certain sort of Pakeha there’s a tendency to think that Maori haven’t changed, and they ought not to change. You hear that attitude in comments like a bloke saying to me: “Yes, Maori have fishing rights, but they should be confined to using the fishing technologies of 1840, like flax nets.” His was a headspace of Maori not changing and not having the right to change over time. Incidentally, Captain Cook remarked that he thought Maori had better fishing technologies than non-Maori.

What trusts like the Waipareira Trust prove is that you can adapt while maintaining integrity. You can choose a Maori way of doing things, adapted for new circumstances.

I’m rather struck by a quotation from a 1950s Italian novel called The Leopard, in which an uncle says to his nephew: “If we want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.”

Maori are a wonderful example of a group who have maintained their integrity as Maori, and yet have changed again and again and again, to meet changing circumstances.

This interview has been condensed and edited.

 

Submission to the Social Services and Community Select Committee on the Child Poverty Reduction Bill

Note that some of the original submission proved redundant. For ease of presentation they have been removed. An explanation of what happened is set out here. (I have not changed the numbering.)

Introduction

My name is Brian Easton. I have a doctorate of science from the University of Canterbury and hold other qualifications in economics, mathematics and statistics. I hold honorary positions in six New Zealand universities including an adjunct chair at the Auckland University of Technology.

I was among the first to recognise that the largest group of New Zealand’s poor was children and their guardians/parents. My first published paper on poverty was more than forty years ago. Since then, when resources have allowed, I have extended my research on the measurement of poverty and inequality and its implications. My very long publications list on the topic of the bill can be supplied on request.

This submission is on my behalf but it also reflects the views and interests of those in the inequality research community

 

Summary

This submission broadly supports the Child Poverty Reduction Bill, setting it in a wider context.

It is in four parts.

Part I points out that the Child Poverty Reduction Bill is an extension of the Fiscal Responsibility Act (now incorporated into the Public Finance Act) but that it also represents a different vision of the role of the Government.

Part II explains that a poverty line is a measure of inequality and one which is consistent with earlier New Zealand social policy thinking.

Part III argues that the current measures of poverty in New Zealand can be improved and that it is imperative to do so if we want the reduction the bill promises to succeed.

Part IV discusses changes necessary to the Bill to implement the findings of the earlier part.

The submission concludes with a summary of this submission’s recommendations, including suggestions on how the bill should be amended.

The overall conclusion of this submission is that the Bill should be proceeded with, but that it should be amended as follows:.

  1. That all references to absolute poverty be eliminated from the Bill and that it be clear that the notion referred to in the Bill is relative poverty, perhaps as implicitly defined by the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security.
  2. That the current processes of setting targets in the Bill be replaced as follows:

2a.       That each incoming government be required to table in the House a set of targets for poverty reduction.

2b.       That the government establish an independent technical committee to provide measures of the wellbeing of children and other New Zealanders.

2c.       That the government establish an independent representative committee to use the measures provided by the technical committee to make recommendations on a suite of poverty lines which the government may use is setting its targets.

Part I: The Child Poverty Reduction Bill and the fiscal responsibility approach.

1.1.      Both past New Zealand governments and some overseas ones have promised to eliminate child poverty or substantially reduce current levels. Necessarily this requires time but the target date mentioned in the promise has always been so far out that the politician or government making the promise will not be in power. Thus they have not been accountable for achieving the target and have not been held to account. Practically, such promises have been valueless.

1.2       This bill also makes such a promise, but the effect of the statute is that it holds every government between today’s and that at the target date accountable to Parliament in particular and the public in general. As such it has parallels to the 1991 Fiscal Responsibility Act (now incorporated into the Public Finance Act).

1.3       In 1994 the New Zealand Parliament enacted a Fiscal Responsibility Act, which required the government to set future targets for government debt. The government chooses the actual benchmarks but it is required to publish them. There is no legislated penalty for a failure to meet the debt targets – it is accepted that events outside the control of the government can impact on the outcome. Instead it is left to public opinion and parliament to assess the government’s success or otherwise in meeting its targets.

1.4       The parallels with the Child Poverty Reduction Bill are obvious. Again the government is required to set future targets but this time for numbers of children below a poverty level. Again the government chooses and publishes the benchmarks. There is no penalty for a failure to meet the targets for again, events outside the control of the government can impact on the outcome. Again, it is left for public opinion and parliament to assess the government’s success or otherwise in meeting its poverty reduction targets.

1.5       The Bill introduces a further explicit concern for fiscal policy. The 1994 Act was in the (neoliberal) framework of the government budget administered as if it were a household. This had represented a winding back from the earlier tradition that fiscal policy was concerned with wider social ends. (I can elaborate this if requested.) The effect of the Child Poverty Reduction Bill is to direct that fiscal policy must be concerned with wider social issues and not just ‘balancing the budget’. In particular it introduces inequality as an explicit policy objective.

1.6       Recently there has been concern among the public about the degree of inequality in New Zealand. In my opinion that concern has been sufficiently widespread for Parliament to be concerned with the issue. Not to be concerned would amount to its failing to represent the people of New Zealand.

1.7       The public concern about economic inequality has not been carefully analysed. As best as I can judge there are three major public threads (in addition to the personal belief that the individual is not getting an adequate share of total national income):

(i) There is a concern that the existing income (and wealth) distribution is not fair. This is essentially an ethical concern but also reflects a vision of the sort of society which New Zealand should be.

(ii) There is a concern that the existing income (and wealth) distribution threatens social coherence and hence social stability.

(iii) There is a concern that poverty among children (the largest group of the poor in New Zealand) affects their opportunity and life choices by compromising their health and educational attainment. This is not only detrimental to them (that is, it is not fair) but it results in poorer future economic performance (from the loss of human skills and from the higher social costs of dealing with the consequences of the earlier failure) and, ultimately, the long-term social coherence and viability of the nation. (I am reluctant to comment on the impact of poverty on criminal behaviour as the research evidence I know of is limited.)

1.8       Enacting the Child Poverty Reduction Bill would show Parliament taking up this challenge of inequality, especially in regard to the third concern mentioned in the previous paragraph.

1.9       Poverty and economic inequality are inextricably linked. The next part of this submission elaborates the linkage.

 

Part II: The relationship between measured poverty line and measured inequality.

2.1       Public discussion assumes that inequality is a well-defined notion which may be readily measured by a single indicator. (The Gini Coefficient is often cited, frequently by people who could not define it.)

2.2       The research is clear: there is no simple notion of inequality nor measure of it. This might be illustrated by the way in which on occasions various measures of inequality can be in conflict with each other, some suggesting it is increasing, some that it is decreasing and some showing no change. I can provide a lecture (or a course) on this topic, but perhaps a single illustration will suffice. In the mid-1990s some measures based on median incomes concluded that the transfer of income from the middle of the distribution to those with top incomes reduced poverty. (Median income fell, and therefore the poverty line base on median incomes fell so the numbers below the line fell.) This was despite an evident rise in hardship well attested by those working with the poor (for instance the number of food parcels distributed increased). In fact most other measures of poverty and inequality rose despite income inequality on most measures increasing. Casual use of measures of inequality and poverty can be treacherous.

2.3       However, if the shift in the income distribution is sufficiently large (as it was between 1985 and 1995), all sensible indicators of inequality will show a shift in the same direction. It is where the distribution shifts are small and short term that the indicators can be contradictory.

2.4       The niceties of research precision are not always helpful for those involved in policy implementation, even though they should be kept in mind. Practically, though, policy may have to choose a particular measure (or a suite of measures) of inequality and poverty. What the research says is that the choice requires a value judgement which cannot be objectively provided. However, research can help the subjective decision-makers to make an informed choice.

2.5       By proposing poverty lines, the Child Poverty Reduction Bill proposes a particular measure of inequality. If the select committee decides it wants to look at alternative measures, I am willing to assist it. However a poverty line has a logic derived from older social policy traditions which were abandoned in about 1990.

2.6       While the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security was nominally concerned with the social security system, it actually presented perhaps the most comprehensive view of the economic foundations of social policy of any official New Zealand body. In particular it said (original’s underlining)

The aims of the system, should be

(i) First, to enable everyone to sustain life and health;

(ii) Second, to ensure, within limitations which may be imposed by physical or other disabilities, that everyone is able to enjoy a standard of living much like that of the rest of the community, and thus is able to feel a sense of participation in and belonging to the community.

(iii) Third, where income maintenance alone is insufficient (for example, for a physically disabled person), to improve by other means, and as far as possible, the quality of life available.

(2.7      The Royal Commission used the term ‘participation in and belonging to’. The second part of the expression has sometimes been omitted. The reason for doing so is not always made clear but a possible one is that it is redundant – that participation in a community means one belongs to it. In deference to the original formulation this paper uses the full expression.)

2.8       The first aim of the Royal Commission is consistent with a notion of maintaining everybody at or above an absolute level of poverty; its second aim defines a notion of relative poverty. The rest of this submission has much to say about this distinction. The Royal Commission saw the second notion as the basis of New Zealand social policy.

(2.9      We will not pursue in detail here the third aim although it is very relevant for social policy. For instance, no amount of income will resolve poor access to a building for those with mobility challenges.)

2.10     Instructively, the Royal Commission did not say anything about the top of the income distribution. Perhaps it was because that lay outside the terms of reference of the enquiry but there may have been a deeper reason.

2.11     In 1971, about the time that the Royal Commission was completing its report, American philosopher John Rawls published his seminal Theory of Justice. He argued for ‘justice as fairness’, recommending equal basic rights, equality of opportunity, and the promotion of the interests of the least advantaged members of society. In particular he proposed a ‘maximin’ principle – that the system should be designed to maximize the position of those who will be worst off in it – which he derived by individuals choosing to improve the position of the worst off in society with the possibility they might find themselves in that position.

2.12     There is no evidence that the Royal Commission had access to Rawls’ thinking but there is an uncanny parallel between its conclusions and those of The Theory of Justice. Had the book’s arguments been presented to it, it seems likely that the Royal Commission would have comfortably and seamlessly incorporated the Rawlsian principles into its report.

2.13     In particular, the Royal Commission’s second aim of the system – that everyone should be able to enjoy a standard of living much like that of the rest of the community, and thus able to feel a sense of participation in and belonging to the community – is a reformulation of the ‘maximin’ principle. Note that Rawls does not say much about the top of the income distribution. His focus is on the providing an income floor.

2.14     So it is completely in keeping with New Zealand’s traditional social policy objectives to focus on providing a minimum income floor – in effect a poverty line – without too much attention to further up the distribution (other than as funders of the floor).

2.15     Thus the focus of the Child Poverty Reduction Bill on a poverty line is consistent with both New Zealand’s traditional approach to social policy and reputable philosophical thinking.

2.16     Given the size of child poverty – the exact numbers of those defined being in poverty depend on the choice of the poverty line (to the numbers should be added their guardians/parents) – I am confident that a significant reduction in the numbers below any sensible poverty line will show a reduction in overall income inequality on any other sensible measure.

(2.17    While well over half of the poor are children and their guardians/parents there remain others who do not belong to this category and are unlikely to be affected by any policy changes which reduce child poverty. Should their needs be addressed? For many of them – including the sick and the disabled – the answer is ‘yes’; it is to be hoped that their needs will be considered in due course. However, the RCSS/Rawls approach does not place an obligation to ensure that everyone below the poverty line should receive more income assistance. Aside from those for whom employment is a more appropriate solution, there are also those who choose low income life styles as the best way they can participate in and belong to their community.)

 

Part III: Setting a Poverty Line.

3.1       The way that the numbers in poverty are usually counted is as follows. An indicator of living standards is identified and measured for each household.[1] Most often this has been disposable income – market income plus benefit income less direct taxes paid – which will be used here to illustrate the measurement principles. Then the aggregate indicator (disposable income) is adjusted for household composition. (It is easiest to think of this in the case of being converted to per capita income but in practice children are weighted less than adults and there is an allowance for economies of scale.) The resulting aggregate ‘equivalised’ income is attributed to each member of the household (this assumes that the income/expenditure of the household is shared equally – it may not be). A poverty line which is an income level is chosen and the number of people (or children or whatever) living in households below the poverty level is the poverty count.

3.2       To summarise schematically for a household:

Market Income

plus

Benefit Income

less

Direct Taxes paid

equals

Household Disposable Income

adjust for

household composition (typically using ‘equivalence scales’)

equals

Equivalised Household Disposable Income (EHDI)

choose

a poverty line

count

the numbers in households whose EHDI is below poverty line

which gives

the poverty count

3.3       The method was devised in the 1970s based upon research overseas. It has hardly changed since, despite a number of obvious weaknesses. Most were known in the 1970s, but the data available was limited so that it was not possible to address the problems then. What is disappointing is that there has been hardly any improvement in the subsequent 40 years even as better data comes available. Here are some examples of the weakness of the method.

3.4       Is disposable income the right measure? For instance, if the government was to eliminate school fees it would make no difference to the poverty count, despite families being under less financial stress. On the other hand, if the subsidies to primary health care were withdrawn it would place families under greater stress but, again it would make no change to the poverty count. Childcare costs are not deducted from income; a family may be impoverished by them as a consequence of earning income, but it is treated in poverty count terms exactly the same as family which gets free childcare or does not incur such costs. The costs of housing raises a series of problems – contrast the family in their own mortgage-free home with one paying an onerous amount for their rent. (Deducting housing costs from income is obviously wrong, since it is subtracting an expenditure from income – apples from oranges.)

3.5       The equivalence scales used to adjust for housing composition are problematic. For instance it would appear that the household economies of scale which are typically assumed (the equivalence scales usually used are not estimated but invented) overestimate the effective income of large households and underestimate it for small households, affecting the composition of the poor (but probably not the poverty count by much).

3.6       These measurement failures in no way affect the actual poverty. They mean that our estimates are distorted and it seems likely that any consequent measures to reduce poverty are less effective – more expensive – than they need be.

3.7       The choice of poverty line is also deeply problematic when, as typically occurs, it is based on opinion with little empirical underpinning. The original level used was the one implicitly proposed by the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security which was presented with considerable evidence of family economic circumstances. As emphasised earlier, choosing a poverty line involves judgment but, compared to today’s proposed levels, the Royal Commission’s was informed by actual evidence.

3.8       Given the unsatisfactory theoretical and empirical bases of the available poverty lines, including those mentioned in the Bill (Part 2), it may be wondered whether they are of any use or when policy weight should be placed upon them. The short answer is that they are the best we have got, and will have to do in the interim until we have a better one.

3.9       In order to overcome some of the weaknesses of the current measures and to enable easier comparisons as better measures are introduced, the published targets should be in terms of proportional reductions (e.g. half on the chosen measure by the given date) rather than a reduction in numbers.

3.10     Note that poor quality poverty measures will lead to inefficient targeting, especially of the wrong groups. An even greater fear is that they can be abused for policy purposes. For instance, reducing or restraining those on middle incomes reduces poverty according to measures based on the median income without necessarily having any effect on the living circumstances of the poor (as unintentionally occurred in the early 1990s). Raising the costs of school fees or health care will not effect the measured number of the poor although they will be in greater hardship. Changes in housing policy and circumstances are likely to have an erratic impact on the measures even if they reduce hardship. While this may not be the intention of this government, the legislation needs to ensure a less benign government cannot manipulate the faulty measures to avoid addressing actual poverty.

3.11     How might we construct and implement the monitoring of better poverty measures in the future?

 

Part IV: Setting a Better Poverty Line.

4.1       It is indicative of how superficial are current poverty lines that most commentators do not link the measure to any fundamental notion of poverty. The bill does attempt to do this.

4.2       But it does so by focusing on material hardship. This, in fact, is a notion of absolute poverty. For as the country prospers, a material hardship-based poverty line need not be adjusted. We would be consolidating the 1990 ‘Redesigning the Welfare State’ approach which has been to index benefit levels to consumer inflation only.

4.3       However the proposed poverty measures seem to be based on the notion of relative poverty given that they imply that as prosperity rises so does the poverty line. I leave others to reconcile the contradictions.

4.4       The following explains how a less opinionated, more evidence-based poverty level might be derived. Without resiling from the earlier point that there has to be a value judgement, it suggests how the judgement can be considerably more informed than is the current practice.

4.5       This submission takes as its fundamental notion of poverty that set out by the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security of those in (relative) poverty having an inadequate standard of living unlike that of the rest of the community to the extent that they are unable to feel a sense of participation in or belong to the community.

4.6       Observe that such poverty compromises the opportunity for the child to develop as set out by the Fraser-Beeby principle (updated, as Clarence Beeby would wish, to be gender neutral with the key notion underlined):

The government’s objective, broadly expressed, is that every person, whatever her or his level of academic ability, whether he or she be rich or poor, whether he or she live in country or town, has a right, as a citizen, to a free education of the kind for which he or she is best fitted and to the fullest extent of her or his power.

4.7       It would be possible to ask people to what extent they felt they were able to participate in and belong to their community. As far as I know, that has never been done systematically and, in any case, the response would be subjective and consequently subject to all the problems of policy using subjective measures.

4.8       Instead there are objective measures of standards of living. In particular New Zealand has a Living Standards Research program. The 2016 Household Economic Survey asked about 20 child-specific items as follows:

Does the household or child have

two pairs good shoes for each child

two sets of warm winter clothes for each child

waterproof coat for each child

all the uniform required by the schools

a separate bed for each child

fresh fruit and vegetables daily

a meal with meat, fish or chicken (or vegetarian equivalent) at least each second day

a range of books at home suitable for their ages

a suitable place at home to do school homework

friends around to play and eat from time to time

friends around for a birthday party

good access at home to a computer and internet for homework

mobile phone if aged 11+?

In order to keep down costs to help in paying for (other) basic items (not just to be thrifty or to save for a trip or other non-essential) has the household taken the following economising actions:

postponed visits to doctor

postponed visits to dentist

unable to pay for school trips/events for each child

had to limit children’s involvement in sport

            children had to go without music, dance, kapa haka, art, swimming or other special interest lessons

children continued wearing worn out/wrong size clothes and shoes

made do with very limited space to study or play?

4.9       These items could be used to construct a wellbeing index for children. The index could be compared with the household income to help form a poverty line.

4.10     For instance, suppose it was decided that without at least two pairs of good shoes a child would have considerable difficulties participating in and belonging to their community and it was found that standard households (say two adults and two children) which had disposable incomes below $X per week lacked two pairs of shoes for each child. There follows a strong case for setting the poverty line at $X per week (or higher) for this household type. (Shoes here are the first item on the list and used only as an illustration. Historically, researchers used as an indicator when families did not take their children to their doctor because of financial hardship. This ‘economising action’ was a last or desperate resort. Such thinking has been a major factor behind the policy of higher subsidies for children visiting their GP. )

4.11     The exercise is more complicated than this, because all 20 items should be used (at least to some extent).[2] But in principle what can be done is that a tabulation could be constructed which gave the probability of a household being below each income level. An appropriate panel could then identify an income level below which they judged that the household was so deprived that the children were suffering poverty, thereby setting a poverty line. Observe that there is still a judgement to be made but that it would be an informed judgement and not just uninformed opinion.

4.12     This approach requires a major change to the monitoring and report sections in the Bill. First, it is necessary to define poverty more carefully. The bill defines it as ‘material hardship’ but there are other hardships. For example, being unable to invite friends around for a birthday party – reciprocating invitations to friends’ parties – is not material hardship, it is a humiliation. It can also be development threatening. If a schoolgirl cannot go with her friends to, say, a significant gig, it not only makes her an outsider in the class but is likely to turn her away from that community and undermine her educational performance. (That is why teachers have been known to provide the means to participate with the group for a promising pupil from their own pocket.)

4.13     The poverty targets need to be articulate in relationship to a coherent definition of poverty. The above illustrates how that could be done with a particular definition, but the method and process is quite general and could be applied for any other definition (providing the data was available).

4.14     While the current Bill makes no provision for a technical group or an advisory group to assist with the judgement this should be provided for in the revised Bill. Setting poverty targets requires greater technical skills than are currently in the public service (although there are some public servants whose work in the area is to be greatly admired).

4.15     Public servants are not well paced to advise directly on judging the poverty line without the intermediation of a consultative committee. In particular it puts the Government Statistician into an invidious position of making judgements which are not technical. In order to maintain the integrity of the statistical base the Government Statistician should be shielded from controversial decisions. The proper function of the Government Statistician in this context is as an adviser to ministers and the executive. It is a conflict of interest to have her or him also advising Parliament which is concerned with keeping the government accountable.

4.16     In any case the poverty targets should be shifted out of the main Bill to a schedule to the Bill. The government should have the option of revising the schedule, tabling the revision to Parliament for debate, as better measures become available. There should also be a requirement that an incoming government should submit its own (revised) schedule within six months of taking office.

Summary

6.1       The proposed Child Poverty Reduction Bill enables the people of New Zealand, especially through its representatives in Parliament, to hold the government to account in regard to two important issues:

(i) the level of economic inequality in New Zealand;

(ii) the hardship among children and their families not only effects their wellbeing but compromises the long-term development of New Zealand.

It should be proceeded with following the amendments set below.

6.2       The Bill adds a further responsibility to fiscal policy in addition to the (now merged) 1994 Fiscal Responsibility Act by explicitly adding a dimension of social wellbeing to narrower budget concerns. As such, it formally broadens the notion of fiscal responsibility.

6.3       Setting a target for reducing poverty among New Zealand’s children makes sense because:

(i) given its size and extent, child poverty is almost certainly the most serious issue of wellbeing in New Zealand;

(ii) reducing child poverty will have long-term benefits to New Zealand including improving the nation’s economic and social performance and its sustainability;

(iii) substantially reducing child poverty will also substantially reduce economic inequality in New Zealand.

Even so, the needs of smaller groups who are also in poverty through no fault of their own – such as from disability and sickness – should not be ignored.

6.4       The Bill is currently ambiguous as to whether it is concerned with absolute poverty – that is, individuals are in material hardship – or relative poverty, that is, whether they have sufficient to participate in and belong to their community and able to share in its progress. The Bill should make it clear that it is the second notion with which it is concerned.

6.5       The current measures of poverty levels and the numbers they report are imperfect. While they are useful for public discussion they are not robust for public policy or research. As such they need to be improved.

6.6       In the interim the flawed measures will have to be used for targeting purposes. It makes sense to choose a suite of targets, not only to reduce the inadequacy of each measure but to limit the ability of any government to manipulate policies to attain the particularities of the individual targets while ignoring the spirit of the exercise to improve the wellbeing of children. .

6.7       In order to replace the flawed measures with higher-quality ones the government should establish a working group of technically competent researchers. They should prepare improved measures (although they will be limited by data availability). However, the research working group should not make recommendations on the precise poverty line.

6.8       Instead, there should be established an advisory group to assess the research findings and recommend to Parliament and the government a suite of robust poverty lines. The advisory group should be representative by such social characteristics as age, ethnicity, family experience and gender. (However the chair of the research working group may be appointed to it in order give the lay group better access to the research findings.) Given a commitment, the work program and the decisions which evolve out of it should enable the incoming government in 2020 to set out revised poverty targets.

6.9       The import of these recommendations is that Parliament should not only pass the Child Poverty Reduction Bill, albeit with some improvements in the evaluation, monitoring and reporting, but it should also ensure that the measures necessary to implement it effectively are taken (including ensuring that there is enough funding to enable the research working group to work quickly and efficiently).

Recommend Changes to the Bill

7..1      The drafting of statutes involves specialist skills which I do not have. The following are intended to guide the those drafting the revised bill..

7..2      That all references to absolute poverty be eliminated from the Bill and that it be clear that notion is relative poverty perhaps as implicitly defined by the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security.

7..3      That the current processes of setting targets in the Bill be replaced as follows;

7..3a    That each incoming government be required to table in Parliament a set of targets for poverty reduction.

7..3b    That the Government establish an independent technical committee to provide measures of the wellbeing of children and other New Zealanders.

7..3c    That the Government establish an independent representative committee to use the measures provided by the technical committee to make recommendations on a suite of poverty lines which the Government may use when setting its targets. .

Endnotes

[1] Typically, the data source is the Household Economic Survey. This or other surveys are smallish samples and so the results are subject to error. Another source of error is that the income variables, in particular, are usually self-reported. And may not be very accurate.

[2] The construction of high-quality statistically robust indexes is a technical challenge. Currently all that is available are rather primitive versions. This is because of an unwillingness to provide the resources to do the analysis; New Zealand certainly has the statistical expertise to do better if the resources were available.

Accounting for the government


AUT Briefing Papers May 22, 2018

The 1989 Public Finance Act adopted a new approach to the presentation of the government’s accounts. Its purpose was to enhance the government’s management of financial flows by combining them all into a single set of accounts.

But as so typically happens, a measurement system for one purpose is used for others for which it is not really designed and which, inadvertently, are misleading. This is known as Gilling’s Law – that the way the game is scored shapes the way the game is played – one of the most universal of all social science regularities.

Such it is with the government accounts, well illustrated by the clamour which surrounds the budget. Since the accounts are not designed to track the purposes of government, the public comment is rarely framed about what the government is really for. For example, while it is possible to identify what is happening in spending terms to the environment, albeit with some effort, that is rarely done despite the passionate interests of environmentalists. Trying to understand the fiscal contribution to the wider issue of sustainability is even more difficult.

The result is that the Public Accounts portray the overall government as simply receiving and spending money. Richard Musgrave, one of the great public-finance economists, proposed three economic ‘branches’ of government: stabilisation, allocation and redistribution. You may not agree with exactly these functions – I shall use different ones – but you may ask what the Public Accounts tell us about them – or whatever broad functions with which you are concerned. The answer may be there somewhere, but not transparently so.

In fact, almost certainly unintentionally, the current format of the government’s financial statements plays into the hands of those with a neoliberal disposition (including Austerians) who want to minimise the activities of the state and prefer to ignore its positive possibilities. That is why most of the informed public fiscal discussion which, necessarily, is framed by the Public Accounts, appears to be neoliberal.

This can be illustrated by the debate over whether the Labour-led Government should borrow more thereby running a higher debt track.

By way of factual background, New Zealand’s debt-to-GDP ratio is low compared to that of most other OECD countries and there are lenders who would like to hold more New Zealand government debt given the quality of the country’s fiscal management and low debt levels.

Offsetting this is that were there another international financial crisis, low debt would ease New Zealand through, as happened after the Global Financial Crisis when New Zealand borrowed almost an extra 20 percent of annual GDP. We need to keep our public debt low because of the very high private debt some of which will be covered by public bailouts in a financial crisis. Similarly there is a need to provide for physical shocks such as earthquakes, for which the private sector cannot always provide well.

Aside from these considerations, borrowing imposes a charge on future generations. Morality suggests a country should not fund a consumer binge now to be paid for by its children and grandchildren; that public borrowing should normally be only for investment which will generate later benefits to the New Zealanders who will pay the debt servicing. That would include commercial investment with long-term financial returns (such as housing) and infrastructure which does not generate a direct commercial return. It may also make sense to include spending on environmental enhancement (like towards a pest-free New Zealand) which adds to future generations’ wellbeing even if it does not add to its material output.

However, it is difficult to infer from the current format of the government’s financial statements to what extent we are doing this. The statement of cash flows provides some relevant information but its emphasis is upon cash flows going in and out of the government’s bank accounts, rather than the nature and purpose of the expenditure, which ought to be at the centre of major public debate.

This leads to the conclusion that we need additional disclosures within the Public Accounts which reflects the economic purposes of a government, albeit without undermining the accounting practices developed over the last four decades. I illustrate as follows, acknowledging that a group of experts, sympathetic to the need for transparent purpose-driven measures, may come up with a different scheme.

I identify four main economic purposes of a modern government. It invests in the future, it redistributes income, it provides collective services and it provides personal services which the market otherwise delivers poorly. Slightly different from Musgrave’s branches but we are on the same page.

Additionally, the government does not only raise revenue to enable its spending. Much tax also has other purposes such as to redistribute income and to discourage poor-quality private spending. Where taxes are for such purposes they should be shown along with the spending. Examples are given below.

This all suggests there should be four additional sub-statements to go alongside the existing financial statements.

An investment activities statement which would show government investment spending including (net) interest payments on debt. Offsetting revenue would include motoring levies and (net) borrowings.

The social transfer activities statement which would show social security and other benefits as outgoings offset by ACC levies and revenue from income tax accruing above the base rate (currently 10.5 percent).

The third statement would cover the government’s activities in providing collective services (such as core administration, defence, the environment and justice), and the fourth statement the government’s activities in providing personal services (such as education, health and legal aid). The fourth account would include excise duties from alcohol and tobacco.

This fourfold division is schematic and there is much devil in the details. By focusing on the broad purposes of government fiscal activity – investment, redistribution, providing services which the private market does badly, providing services which the market cannot do at all – it would frame the current fiscal debate in a more constructive way than today’s approach of lumping everything together.

There would to be a fifth ‘reconciliation’ statement which would show the net spending of each of the divisions and the funding from taxation whose main purpose was revenue raising and any other source not elsewhere included. A critical element of the exercise is to keep the statements sufficiently simple that members of the public would be able to follow them.

Identifying the various fiscal functions of the state offers a different framework from grudging neoliberal minimalism. Instead it recognises that fiscal policy has the potential of making positive (indeed creative) contributions to the public’s wellbeing.

Intriguingly, the May 2018 budget promised to make greater use of the Treasury ‘four wellbeings’ framework, for 2019. Unless the Treasury adapts its financial statements to include a set which aligns with its wellbeing framework the exercise will be pointless.

It may be that the Ardern-Peters-Robertson Government looks (mildly) Austerian because the accounting system, the parliamentary framework and the public rhetoric shape both perceptions of it and the way it operates. Providing a more purpose-driven presentation of the government finances would be a step towards its being, as promised, ‘transformative’.

 This briefing has been markedly improved following discussions with Dr Don Gilling, a retired professor of accounting and finance. However its eccentricities and errors remain mine.

David Mayes: 1946–2017

David Mayes, Professor of Finance at the University of Auckland, died on November 30, 2017, aged 71.

Asymetric Information No 61, April 2018, p.6

David studied for a PPE (Philosophy, Politics and Economics) at the University of Oxford, graduating in 1968, before completing his PhD at the University of Bristol in 1971. Much of his early work focused on European integration, with the European Union still youthful; the UK had not yet joined when he completed his doctorate, let alone considered leaving.

His earliest listed paper is entitled ‘The changing price of butter’ (1974).  It models the impact of changing quotas on price, thereby assessing the impact on the UK of the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy. In later papers he examined the effects of European integration on trade, the implications of closer European integration on Australia and New Zealand, and the burgeoning rational expectations revolution, among many other topics. He is particularly remembered in New Zealand for his 1986 address at the NZIER AGM, Changes, which warned, appositely at the time of major economic liberalisation, that it was easier to close down businesses than to start them up.

During the 1980s Mayes worked  at the University of Exeter, the NIESR in London and the now-defunct British National Economic Development Office. He was a visiting fellow at the University of Otago and was at the NZIER in 1985-6, including briefly being its director, before returning to NEDO After stints at the Centre for European Policy Studies in Brussels and a return to the NIESR, he became chief economist of the RBNZ in 1994, serving until 1997 before taking up the position of Advisor to the Bank of Finland’s Board in 1997-2008

A spell as a Visiting Professor at the University of Auckland, 2006-7, led to the position of BNZ Professor of Finance University of Auckland, as well as director of its Europe Institute and co-director of its NZ Governance Centre.  There he taught at all levels, from undergraduate to post-doctoral, seeing many PhD candidates successfully through their studies. Following his death he received some warm tributes from his former doctoral students.

At times he held positions in many other research and academic institutions including adjunct chairs at the Universities of Canterbury and Waikato.

David’s most recent work, authored in the wake of the financial crisis, focused on designing effective banking regulation, including bail-in, deposit insurance, and other aspects of resolution frameworks. He was a prolific writer of academic works: papers, articles, book chapters, reports and books.

David Mayes died following being diagnosed with cancer just a few weeks earlier; he suffered a stroke from which he did not recover. His funeral was held close to his home on Waiheke Island.

Where Modern Macroeconomics Went Wrong

 

 

I prepared this note on the contribution of Joseph Stiglitz of the same title to an important symposium in Oxford Review of Economic Policy, Volume 34, Numbers 1–2, 2018 (pp. 70–106). It is for economists. A shorter version is published in the AUT Briefing Papers series.

Stiglitz’s text is in italics:

I believe that most of the core constituents of the DSGE model are … sufficiently badly flawed that they do not provide even a good starting point for constructing a good macroeconomic model. These include

            (a) the theory of consumption;

      (b) the theory of expectationsrational expectations and common knowledge;

      (c) the theory of investment;

      (d) the use of the representative agent model (and the simple extensions to incorporate heterogeneity that so far have found favour in the literature): distribution matters;

      (e) the theory of financial markets and money;

      (f) aggregationexcessive aggregation hides much that is of first order macroeconomic

significance;

      (g) shocksthe sources of perturbation to the economy; and

      (h) the theory of adjustment to shocksincluding hypotheses about the speed of and mechanism for adjustment to equilibrium or about out-of-equilibrium behaviour.

I cannot review in detail all of these and other failings … so I am selective. So am I.

Many of these are related. For instance, the presence of imperfect and asymmetric information leads to credit and equity rationing. Thus, individuals in maximizing their lifetime utility have to take into account credit constraints and … this gives rise to a markedly different problem than that analysed in the standard DSGE model.

One of the reasons that the representative agent model doesnt work well is that some individuals are credit constrained, others are not. Moreover, numerous studies … have emphasized the importance of debt for aggregative behaviour; but in a representative agent model, debt (held domestically) nets out, and therefore should have no role. At least at times, short-run to medium-term macroeconomic analysis needs to debt and real debt-dynamics … institutional details can matter.

More generally money is not an integral element of a DSGE model. In the traditional Arrow-Debreu GE model there is no substantive money. No transactions occur out of equilibrium so there is no need for a medium of exchange; barter is sufficient. Insofar as there stock of money, it is like any other commodity; presumably the market participants think it is, in some sense, fully back. There may be a standard of value, a numeraire, but it is of no great significance.

Stiglitz adds to this by observing if there are only representative agents in the model – as applies for DSGE models – noone can be in debt to anyone else because all agents are identical. (This applies for a closed model. In an open model each agent may in debt offshore – by the same amount.)

Debt raises another issue with which GE models cannot deal. Recall that all prices in a GE model are non-negative. It follows that nobody can have negative equity in their financial balance sheet.  Were that true there would be no financial crashes.

For a theory which prides itself on its microeconomic foundations, the DSGE model’s are remarkably inadequate in regard to the role of money. Given the money is at the heart of macroeconomic behaviour – pre-monetary economies suffered only from external shocks – the DSGE model did not just fail to predict the Global Financial Crisis. It was not designed to predict a financial crisis any more than it was designed to predict the weather.

So are DSGE models are of any use? Stiglitz says acerbically ‘[f]rom a social perspective, whether the economy grows next year at 3.1 per cent or 3.2 per cent makes little difference.’ Perhaps for forecasting purposes they should be pitted against auto-regressive models. The structural vs auto-regressive forecasts is an old debate. The last time I looked at it, the auto-regressive forecasts were superior except where there was a novel structural change (such as an oil shock) as you could adapt a structural model using more economic analysis to allow for the circumstances outside the model’s range of experience. I suspect that still holds, but even so that only works if the structural model is not too rigid and the shock exists within the theoretical compass of the model. For instance most do not have balance sheets which play an integral part in the financial crises.

At this point we could dismiss DSGE models as irrelevant but I suggest that Stiglitz’s point is not about DSGE models per se, but the economics underpinning them and which underpin many macroeconomists’ thinking. So let us go on with his critique. Just to remind you, the ones I have yet to cover are:

            (a) the theory of consumption;

      (b) the theory of expectationsrational expectations and common knowledge;

      (c) the theory of investment;

      (d) the use of the representative agent model (and the simple extensions to incorporate heterogeneity that so far have found favour in the literature): distribution matters;

      (e) the theory of financial markets and money;

      (f) aggregationexcessive aggregation hides much that is of first order macroeconomic

significance;

      (g) shocksthe sources of perturbation to the economy; and

      (h) the theory of adjustment to shocksincluding hypotheses about the speed of and mechanism for adjustment to equilibrium or about out-of-equilibrium behaviour.

Stiglitz makes numerous reference to expectations in his paper but it seems to me his basic point is captured by ‘analyses of expectations were (correctly, in my view) not based on what those might be if it were assumed that individuals had rational expectations, or acted as if they did, but on survey data of what expectations are and have been.’ Resorting to survey data is an admission that economists do not have a useful theory to predict actual expectations or how they are formed. He rightly, in my judgement, rejects the theory of rational expectation. It is a strong theory with precise predictions which are frequently wrong to the point of useless.

I was disappointed by Stiglitz’s paper’s discussion on the potential of behavioural economics. Perhaps there was not space, perhaps he thinks the theory is yet too primitive to play a major role in macroeconomics. I am more optimistic.

I think his point about investment is that, like consumption, it suffers from credit rationing. This seems to have been particularly relevant because financial institutions seem to have been reluctant to fund business investment , since the GFC.

His doubts about aggregation on the production side are summarised as:

Long ago we learned the difficulties of constructing an aggregate production function. The ‘putty-putty’ model provides great simplification, but one should not claim that any analysis based on it is really ‘microfounded’. While earlier analyses provided a critique of the use of the standard model for equilibrium analysis, e.g. when there is production of commodities by means of commodities or when there are production processes involving capital goods of markedly different durability; the use is even more questionable for analyses of dynamics: the dynamics of putty-clay models and vintage capital models, for instance, are markedly different from those of putty-putty models.

 Capitalism is fundamentally about turning putty into clay and being rewarded for the loss of flexibility by a higher return.

Even more important is perhaps the aggregation of the whole economy into a single sector, particularly when the underlying stress on the economy is one of structural change, requiring the movement of resources from one sector to another (say agriculture to manufacturing). I, of course, heartily agree with this last point. Single commodity thinking has been the bane of too much of New Zealand economic analysis.

He goes on [m]onetary policy is typically presented as an efficient tool. But monetary policy has disproportionate effects on interest-sensitive sectors, thus inducing a distortion in the economy that simply is not evident in a one-sector model. I would add that one of our most interest-sensitive prices is the exchange rate.

Stiglitz is also concerned with aggregation of households which raises parallel mathematical problems. Assuming a representative agent goes too far, because it eliminates any possibility that distribution matters. Again I add ‘hear, hear’.

He has a lot about shocks. I suspect much of this is an attack upon real business cycle theory. Stiglitz says that in (most) DSGE models, downturns are caused by an exogenous technology shock. In agriculture, we know what a negative technology shock means—bad weather or a plague of locusts. But what does that mean in a modern industrial economy—an epidemic of some disease that resulted in a loss of collective knowledge of how to produce? By contrast the shocks giving rise to economic fluctuations in many, if not most cases, is clearly endogenous. The 2008 shock was endogenous, caused by the breaking of the housing bubble. This is really an argument about the meaning of exogenous and endogenous. ‘Exogenous’ means outside the model where it is unreasonable for the modeller to deal with but. Endogenous are things that are – or should be – inside the model. Real business cycle theory said that endogenous shocks did not exist or were unimportant. I agree with Stiglitz that economists ought to be able to analyses endogenous shocks like those which generated the GFC, even if (by definition) they cannot predict them with any precision.

The final point in Stiglitz’s list is that he has doubts about the theory of adjustment to shocks. I found the section both rich, dense and lacking detail. Here are some extracts from the key section. One of the reasons that downturns with high levels of unemployment persist relates to the process of adjustment. … the super-smart individual simply thinks through the consequences of choosing any other set of current wages and prices [but] it is not apparent how that is to be done in the context of a world without common knowledge. If there were a full set of markets extending infinitely far into the future, the problem … would not occur. But there are not—this is one of the key market failures. …. [The models assume] a decentralized process of wage and price adjustment, with wages and prices in each market responding to the tightness in that market (in the labour market, that is the simple Phillips curve, asserting that wages rise when labour markets become tight). In the short run, … adjustment processes may be disequilibrating: the fall in wages as a result of unemployment may result in a decrease in aggregate demand, increasing the level of unemployment. … What matters is, of course, real wages, and that depends on the adjustment of wages relative to prices. Wages and prices may both be falling at the same rate, resulting in real wages being constant, a kind of real wage rigidity. … Moreover, the deflation itself has a depressing effect, since it increases the real interest rate (holding everything else constant). Similarly, adjustments of prices have balance sheet effects of the kind already discussed, with large macroeconomic consequences.

My selection may have made Stiglitz’s argument even less transparent than he presented it. Let me put it this way. Should not the econometrics in a DSGE model get the right adjustment path – after all it claims to be ‘dynamic’? (There is an implicit assumption that the adjustment path is short, which helps the econometrics.) He says DSGE models … simply assume that the economy jumps to the new equilibrium path. However if adjustment processes are asymmetric (wage and price rigidities are an example) then current econometric techniques will lead to poor representations of actual adjustment paths. If the adjustment processes take a lot of time they will be poorly estimated. Add in this all Stiglitz’s other criticisms and the so-called ‘dynamic’ DSGE models are not going to have very good dynamics.

There are other criticisms of DSGE in the Stiglitz paper – most are elaborations of what has been already discussed – but space demands I do not detail them. I finish with two general points.

First, most of Stiglitz’s criticisms – of assumptions which are not robust – were well-known shortly after the flowering of the first developments in GE theory – the Arrow-Debreu model. Stiglitz reminds us of them, for most economists seem to have forgotten them. Instead they have been ignored in the main analysis in their economic paradigm without the caveats which weaken the robustness of their models. It is true that Stiglitz refines and sharpens our understanding of the caveats. In my case I am now more alert to the importance asymmetries, the complication of heterogeneity in the household sector (I was well aware of it in the production sector) and I am even clearer about the role of money (or the lack of the role) in general equilibrium theory.

Second, while Stiglitz paper focuses on the use of the limited paradigm in DSGE models, he clearly intends the criticism to apply more widely across economics. There are many economists who struggle with general equilibrium theory or who have only the vaguest notion of DSGE modelling but whose own account of the economic world is subject to the criticisms in the Stiglitz paper.

In the last half of the paper – there is not the space to discuss it here – Stiglitz proposes an advance on the DSGE standard model which deals directly with the criticisms earlier in the paper. There is both a verbal exposition and mathematical one. The latter is but a set of equations which are not solved and offer no new insights. They may well be to complex too do so. (For example, it would be nice to know whether his model has a unique equilibrium which is another common GE assumption which wrecks havoc if it is not true.)

I finish with one of my heroes comments of mathematics in economics. Alfred Marshall wrote

[I had] a growing feeling in the later years of my work at the subject that a good mathematical theorem dealing with economic hypotheses was very unlikely to be good economics: and I went more and more on the rules – (1) Use mathematics as a shorthand language, rather than an engine of inquiry. (2) Keep to them till you have done. (3) Translate into English. (4) Then illustrate by examples that are important in real life. (5) Burn the mathematics. (6) If you can’t succeed in (4), burn (3). This last I did often.

Paul Krugman, who also gives a paper in the symposium, illustrates this style well. He is one of Marshall’s great successors.

 

Where modern macroeconomics is going wrong


AUT Briefing Papers March 27, 2018

There is a slowly but steadily accumulating body of criticism of the dominant economic paradigm which constitutes today’s conventional wisdom. A recent Oxford Review of Economic Policy devoted an entire issue to critiquing ‘Dynamic Stochastic General Equilibrium’ (DSGE) models, a workhorse of econometric forecasting based on much of the current thinking. Some of the critics in the volume try to rescue these models, but the eminent economist and Nobel Prize winner Joseph Stiglitz attacked the models as so fundamentally flawed that they are irrecoverable. However, Stiglitz does not have just DSGE models in the gun but the whole of macroeconomics as it is commonly practised:

I believe that most of the core constituents of the DSGE model are … sufficiently badly flawed that they do not provide even a good starting point for constructing a good macroeconomic model. These include

(a) the theory of consumption;

(b) the theory of expectations – rational expectations and common knowledge;

(c) the theory of investment;

(d) the use of the representative agent model ….: distribution matters;

(e) the theory of financial markets and money;

(f) … excessive aggregation …

(g) shocks—the sources of perturbation to the economy; and

(h) the theory of adjustment to shocks—including hypotheses about the speed of and mechanism for adjustment to equilibrium or about out-of-equilibrium behaviour.

The attack is so extensive that it cannot be summarised in the length of this briefing. Moreover some of the criticisms are quite technical and not easily explained to lay people. Here is a selection:

  • Individuals and firms have to take into account credit constraints but this is ignored in the standard model so that neither the accounts of consumption nor investment are realistic.
  • The representative agent model doesn’t work well because some individuals are credit constrained, while others are not. It eliminates any possibility that distribution matters. Moreover, in a representative agent model, debt (held domestically) nets out, and therefore should have no role. More generally money is not the integral element of the theory many economists and those that follow them use.
  • Given that money is at the heart of the modern market economy including the Global Financial Crisis, macroeconomic analysis based on DSGE models and related approaches did not just fail to predict such disturbances – they are not designed to predict a financial crisis any more than to predict the weather – but offer very little useful analysis or policy advice.

Stiglitz’s basic point about expectations is captured by ‘analyses of expectations were (correctly, in my view) not based on what those might be if it were assumed that individuals had rational expectations, or acted as if they did, but on survey data of what expectations are and have been.’ Resorting to survey data is an admission that we do not have a useful theory to predict actual expectations or how they are formed. He rightly rejects the standard theory of ‘rational expectation’ with its precise predictions which are frequently wrong to the point of uselessness.

Aggregating the whole economy into a single sector ignores that sectors grow at different rates. (Single commodity thinking has been the bane of too much of New Zealand economic analysis.)

Stiglitz goes on that ‘monetary policy is typically presented as an efficient tool. But monetary policy has disproportionate effects on interest-sensitive sectors, thus inducing a distortion in the economy that simply is not evident in a one-sector model.’ ( One of our most interest-sensitive prices is the exchange rate.)

He writes a lot about shocks, basically attacking the popular ‘real business cycle theory’. The details of this arcane theory need not concern us. What is important is that shocks can come from within the economic system as they did to generate the Global Financial Crisis. Stiglitz also has doubts about the theory of adjustment to shocks, thinking it underestimates the time involved and the complexity.

This is a fierce attack on much of the most commonly used economic paradigm, the one that you are told is the conventional wisdom, that you hear from over-eager economists, business people, journalists and politicians, that which having failed to predict or even countenance the GFC, was used to justify the austerity policies which followed it in many parts of the world. After Stiglitz’s criticism it is no surprise these models have not worked in their own terms (that is, ignoring the ideological agenda which pervades them).

Critically the attack is entirely from within economic theory. Almost all of Stiglitz’s criticisms of assumptions which are not robust, were well-known shortly after the flowering of the earliest developments in the underlying theory, and were once routinely taught to economics students.

Sadly today they often are not taught; even when they were, most economists seem to have forgotten them. Instead these critical assumptions have been ignored in the main analysis of their economic paradigm without the caveats which weaken the robustness of the model, the forecasts and the policy advice it favours. Stiglitz is much too eminent an economist in the profession – he is not a Keynes but is up there – to be described as ‘unorthodox’. Fundamentally, he is calling for a ‘back to basics’. It will be interesting to see how many economists can redirect their thinking. Business people, journalists and politicians – and therefore policy – will follow, probably with a very long lag. It is going to be hard to break away from austerity-oriented policies.

Stiglitz’s criticisms in this paper are concerned only with macroeconomics but there are hints that he has similar doubts about other parts of economics such as its dependence upon ‘rational economic man’. As Nobel Prize winner Paul Krugman (who also presents a critique in the Oxford Review of Economic Policy volume) tweeted in response to Richard Thaler being awarded the 2017 Nobel, ‘Yes! Behavorial econ is the best thing to happen to the field in generations, and Thaler showed the way.’ Sadly the indications are that too many economists and others will cling to the old model despite being inconsistent with the evidence, because it is all they know. And not just in the economics of decision-making.

Following economics is currently exciting if you like intellectual challenges. But it is not for the faint-hearted, nor is it for those who would go outside ‘orthodox’ economic theory without a grasp of what actually constitutes it. Ultimately Stiglitz, Krugman, Thaler and many other critics are more orthodox than the superficial theories they are criticising.

What this means for policy is unclear. The wise politician (if that is not an oxymoron) will want a diversity of advice and will ensure that the advice system does not ignore orthodox economists who challenge the conventional wisdom.

What is New with HYEFU?

December’s Half Year Economic and Fiscal Update (HYEFU) was combined with the Government’s plans for its first 100 days.

Each December, six months after the budget, the Treasury reports on the state of the economy and the government accounts. Since the August Pre-election Economic and Fiscal Update nothing much has happened in the macro-economy, so the HYEFU reports little new. If it had been presented on its own, journalists would have been scratching around to find something of interest.

Fortunately, the Labour Government came to the journalists’ aid with announcements and indications of what it is going to do. (Much of their fiscal impact does not really start until July 2018.) Journalists seized on its families package, although it had already been announced before the election.

This redistribution package costs roughly the same as National’s proposed tax cuts which will not now go ahead. National’s package was more favourable to the better-off, Labour’s to poor families with children.

When it was first announced I thought Labour was courageous. National’s package almost certainly made more voters better off because children do not vote. I wondered whether Labour had electorally miscalculated by promising to reduce poverty, reduce inequality and invest in children for the future rather than focus on self-aggrandisement. Whether the public did not understand this (National would not be given high marks for hammering its message home during the election) or whether enough of the public voted on social principle rather than self-interest I do not know. The fact is that Labour and its allies squeaked home. We wait to see whether they maintain their courage and public support through to the next election.

However, if the transfer packages cost much the same (with very different distributional impacts) there were some content in the HYEFU which suggested that Labour might be embarking on a slightly different course from National. The largest single indicator is that it plans to spend more on public services.

In simple terms, National planned to spend 27.0 percent of GDP on current government services in election year 2020 (to June 2021) but Labour 28.0 percent. That amounts to $2.7b of public spending in the year. This is hardly going to bust the bank, and is certainly not the ‘fiscal blowout’ which National claimed during the election and since. (Indeed, it hammered numbers so huge that few seemed to believe them.) Additionally it plans to spend more on capital investment.

Labour is proposing to fund this additional spending by borrowing, so its debt track does not fall as quickly as National planned. Perhaps Labour is not as Austerian as National, perhaps much of the additional spending is going into old-fashioned social investment – such as children, housing and regional development – with long-run benefits. I am not uncomfortable with this.

Not all the spending is allocated. It takes a lot of work for Treasury to calculate the spending requirements of new policies. However, the Minister of Finance has advised Treasury of the expected policies; those for which there are no estimates are listed in the section ‘Cost Pressures by Portfolio’. It is the most interesting section in the HYEFU; in effect it is a list of policy areas with which the government will be fiscally grappling.

Aside from decisions already announced, the HYEFU predicts that there is $13.7b of extra spending available over the three years. National rightly says that will not be enough. It never is, and National would have faced exactly the same challenge had it been in government (although it would have had even less to play with). As evidence, they point to the Minister of Finance’s demanding his cabinet colleagues look for savings in their portfolios. If National had remained in power, its minister would have given exactly the same direction. Perhaps the difference is that the Labour coalition government will eliminate some of National’s fads – to replace them with its own? (As well as reprioritisation of policies leading to some cuts, there will also be some repackaging in which existing programs are brought together; the gross cost of the new package will be trumpeted but the net cost will be considerably less.)

I do not know how much of this discretionary spending will have to be used to deal with the wail about failures which cropped up after the election. Certainly concerns which were well signalled before it – such as child poverty, housing, mental health, water purity – are mentioned in the HYEFU. But there have since been some unexpected ones. Why the silences before? Are they political ploys for attention? The Labour Government is going to be under a lot of expenditure pressures, in part because the previous National Government did not address them.

Perhaps there was little unexpected in the HYEFU (aside from shadowy promises in the ‘Cost Pressures by Portfolio’ section). Thus far the new government’s mantra is ‘what you get is what we promised’. The big ticket items are less poverty and lower inequality, housing, regional development, a more active public service and less outsourcing and privatisation.

Does this amount to a new economic strategy? Perhaps Labour is trapped in the neoliberal paradigm its predecessors in the 1980s imposed and which has been largely, but generally more moderately, followed since. I notice some ministers seem already to be talking the rhetoric of their predecessors. We shall have to wait see whether the new government offers a fundamentally new direction.

PS. Treasury is one of our top forecasting macroeconomic teams; there is a section in the HYEFU, ‘Risks and Scenarios’, which ponders on how their predictions may be wrong. We may be sure that if the 2020 HYEFU looks back three years, it will tell a different story from that of 2017. Hopefully there will not be too many economic shocks in between.

Social Investment is Fashionable at the Moment

But do we have the foggiest idea of what it means or how to do it well?

Once upon a time, say 80 years ago back in the days of the First Labour government, ‘social investment’ referred to the government spending, including on education, health and children, which in the long run would add to the wellbeing of the nation. It reflected a holistic vision of society with responsibility to one’s neighbours; you would expect to find references to a generous welfare state close to it.

Today it has a different meaning referring to evaluation of particular social service programs. Insofar as there is a vision it seems to be about minimising public expenditure – a reluctant neoliberal response to people’s needs.

The approach has been launched with much trumpeting although thus far its achievements, such as they are, are about bureaucratic organisations and vague promises. ‘Social investment’ seems to be a good idea but the advocates seem to have little idea of what it means practically. Much of what is written is platitudinous (a common feature of public policy in New Zealand).

There is surprisingly little reference to the underlying ideas. The discipline of the evaluation of public projects, first developed about 60 years ago, is not acknowledged nor are the many examples of its past application mentioned. Reading the available material one gets the feeling they are reinventing the wheel.

To give readers a sense of the issues, I am going to touch upon my voyage in the area, drawing attention to some of the lessons I learned. Other economists, with as much experience, might identify different lessons.

While cost-benefit analysis (or project evaluation) began to be applied here in the 1960s, the intense effort was in the late 1970s, when the government was trying to identify the best use for the energy surpluses from the Maui gas field and the electricity generation over-build (called ‘major projects’ or ‘think big’).

We struggled because there was no standard manual (the one New Zealand publication was for irrigation projects). This led to a vigorous debate about how to apply the international concepts. Fortunately, there were many economists involved, including those commissioned by advocates of the projects, those who opposed them, and government officials (concerned with protecting the cost to the government).

Initially results ranged widely but eventually we compromised on the rules; where we differed, we could work out why we did.

Sometimes the outcomes proved very sensitive to critical assumptions. An evaluation of upgrading the Johnsonville train service depended on taking passengers off the motorway. It was thought there would be a ten second saving for those still driving. What was that worth?

We did not put enough effort into considering what if the assumptions were wrong. There were scenarios of the viability of the major projects under different oil prices but we missed by a factor of three just how low they would go. An even bigger failure was that we did not notice that the downside was shared unevenly; it was the taxpayer who took the loss when the oil price collapsed while company profitability was barely affected.

It is vital to take distributional effects into consideration. A revealing instance was that closing the Mosgiel maternity unit meant savings to the Hospital Board. However, the gains were offset by the additional costs of families having to drive to Central Dunedin to see mother and baby.  From the narrow perspective of the Hospital Board the change was a gain; from a wider social perspective it was not.

This ‘cost shifting’ – government (and businesses) reducing its costs by imposing greater costs on individuals – has been common in the last thirty years. The conventional social investment analysis does not take this much into consideration because it looks at an aggregate measure and not at how the costs and benefits are distributed. I look at how different sectors are impacted when I do an evaluation; not everyone does and it is rarely mentioned in final reports.

A variation is too narrow a perspective. For instance, evaluating a medical treatment may be from the health sector’s perspective and ignore that one treatment gets the patient back to work earlier with gains to the labour market and tax revenues.

I am not sure what perspective will be taken for the proposed social investment evaluation but some of its enthusiasts have indicated that it may be the very narrow one of  government finances only. Even though they may sound very compelling, such advocates usually have no experience or competence in the area so it may be they just don’t understand what they are saying. But if they are right, we could end up with policies which reduce costs to the public sector but make individuals worse off (just as happened with the closing of the Mosgiel maternity unit). This would be seen as an achievement if you were a neoliberal with a narrow vision of a minimalist welfare state.

There are many other technical issues which can have big impacts on policy decisions. I finish with one which continues to puzzle me. In a number of social evaluations – including alcohol abuse, gambling, pharmaceuticals and other medical treatments and tobacco use – it has been necessary to put a dollar value on the gains and losses of wellbeing. These are not directly valued in the market economy and the exact values are contentious, although to pretend they are irrelevant would mean ignoring the wellbeing changes from a policy.

The curiosity has been that any plausible valuation results in an enormous number relative to the market resources involved. As a rough rule they make the ‘economic’ value of human wellbeing about ten times that of GDP (a humbling reminder to economists that we tend a very small part of the garden of the human condition). Unfortunately, the figure generates all sorts of paradoxes too lengthy to summarise here. More are likely to appear if the social investment analysis is done properly.

But will it? From what I have read I am not confident the answer is ‘yes’. Too we do a good idea badly. A century ago André Siegfried said of us:

‘Their outlook, not too carefully reasoned, and no doubtful scornful of scientific thought, makes them incapable of self distrust. Like almost all men of action they have a contempt for theories: yet they are often captured by the first theory that turns up, if it is demonstrated to them with an appearance of logic sufficient to impose upon them. In most cases they do not seem to see difficulties, and they propose simple solutions for the most complex problems with astonishing audacity.’

Is Another Global Fiscal Crisis Imminent?

So claims Niall Ferguson, professor of history at Harvard.  (These are notes prepared for a Radio New Zealand ‘Nights’ Pundits conversation with Bryan Crump. Tuesday 12 December 2017.)

Niall Ferguson is known for his provocative, contrarian views and a number of books, including The Ascent of Money. I am not in a position to judge him as a historian – although a chair at Harvard is no mean achievement – but when he got into a blazing economic row with Paul Krugman, in my judgement, he came second.

Recently the provocative contrarian published an article entitled ‘the reasons another global financial crisis is imminent’ – that is, it is about to happen. Of course he could be right – who knows what the future holds? We should explore his argument, in case.

The article begins by Ferguson claiming that, in effect, he predicted the 2008 Global Financial Crisis. He is not alone; many economists gave similar warnings. They include me, as readers of my now defunct Listener economics column will recall.

This is not to boast; I could tell there was something wrong but I could not tell when it would happen or how exactly it would happen. My task was to draw readers’ attention to the issues, not to predict the future.

Most economists who spoke out were like this – aware there was a problem but puzzled about exactly what was happening. (What I missed was subprime home mortgages; they are such a crazy idea that I overlooked them on the basis they could not possibly exist in a rational market. The same thing happened to me before the 1987 sharemarket crash. Again I wrote about the problem, but I never dreamed of corrupted accounting being used to calculate profits.) The basic rule for such forecasting is the more confident the commentator is, the less he or she understands what is going on.

Ferguson sets out three reasons for an ‘imminent’ crash.

            ‘First, the monetary policy party is closing. The [US Federal Reserve] and the Bank of England are raising rates. …. Global credit growth in aggregate is slowing.’

I’ll come back to this. The other two are:

            ‘Second, we are at a demographic inflection point.’

            ‘Point three: a networked world – whose biggest companies are dedicated to reducing the cost of everything from shopping to searching to social networking – is a structurally deflationary world.’

Ferguson finishes

            ‘No two financial crises are the same. But there will be a next one and, as the monetary medication begins to be withdrawn, it draws nearer.’

He is quite right, of course. There will be another big one and it is drawing nearer, but that is not to say it is near. Financial crises happen rather frequently, but they are usually confined to a single or few economies. In the last century there have been only two global ones: that in 1929 which led to the Great Depression and the 2008 GFC.

Notice Ferguson’s analysis confuses a financial crisis with long-term structural change. Only his first trend has the potential to cause a global crisis. The other two presage a transformation of the world economy as we know it. (I would add other such trends, especially the slowdown of technological innovations which can be made commercial, the environmental challenge and affluence turning people away from material output to services and leisure.)

I am surprised that this historian has confused a(n almost overnight) dramatic change with a deep change which transforms the core structures of an economy and society. The eminent political economist, Ralf Dahrendorf, instanced the French Revolution as an example of the first and the Industrial Revolution of the second. I focus on the first – the next global financial crisis which Ferguson promises.

Ferguson sees parallels with the rising interest rates that preceded 2008 and their expected rise in our imminent future as central banks unwind their ‘quantitative easing’, an expansionary monetary policy where central banks buy government bonds in order to stimulate the economy. It has left them owning huge quantities of government paper; the old-fashioned term was that they have been financing the government deficit by ‘printing money’. This has been effective, goes the orthodox wisdom (of which Krugman is a leading proponent), because the world economy has been in a liquidity trap when interest rates are so low they cannot be further lowered in order to stimulate a depressed economy.

The great Central Banks think there has been enough quantitative easing and have begun raising interest rates. Ferguson argues that the higher interest rates will destabilise the financial system. He attributes such a raising as precipitating the 2008 GFC with no mention of the instability from subprime mortgages. (You will recall Michael Lewis’s The Big Short showed how a number of investors worked out they were inevitably self-defeating and made their fortunes betting against them.)

This may all seem a bit academic, except in the last week the US Congress has gone about giving huge tax cuts to corporations and the very rich. This will increase the US government deficit which will have to be financed. Given the reluctance of the Fed to continue quantitative easing – that is, print money – the US Treasury will have to sell bonds to the private sector (or other governments). Since there are going to be a lot of bonds, it will have to offer very attractive terms – that is, higher interest rates. Because the US dollar is the international currency of preference, the deficit will flood the world with liquidity which will leading to a speculative boom – followed by a crash. Not imminently, but some years on.

Sound familiar? I have just told you the story from the Bush 2002 tax cuts to the 2008 GFC. We tracked it at the time. We did not know when the crash would happen (September 2008 but there was earlier turmoil). Nor did we guess the exact course of the boom and bust (with the central role of subprime mortgages). We did not have access to the wonderful description of past financial crises summarised in This Time is Different by Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff.

Of course each time it is different, which is why booms and busts are so difficult to predict. However the insightful work of Hyman Minsky (who died in 1996) sets out the sequence of these booms and busts; they all follow much the same pattern.

We should learn from history applying robust, evidence-sensitive analysis. As Marx almost said, when history repeats itself, the first time is tragedy, the second time is farce; the next farce is unlikely to be imminent.

Footnote: I have not referred here to the ‘bitcoin bubble’. I cannot tell exactly where the bubble is in the Minsky cycle because it is an unregulated market for which there is neither the data nor financial monitoring. There will be ‘hedge borrowers’ making debt payments from current cash flows, ‘speculative borrowers’ who regularly roll over the principal and ‘Ponzi borrowers’ investing on the belief that the appreciation of the value of the asset will be sufficient to refinance the debt but who cannot make sufficient payments on interest or principal from their cash flow. As the balance of investors moves towards the last type, the bursting of the bubble becomes more imminent. However it is likely to be a minor pop compared to a GFC. (This does not devalue the use of the blockchain technology, which will be around long after the majority of bitcoin investors live in impoverished retirement.)

PS. It has been calculated that the mining phase in the bitcoin game uses as much electricity as Ireland. Its contribution to global warming is not known.  

What is Central Banking Really About?

The retirement of the Governor of the Reserve Bank of New Zealand leads to a reflection on what has been really going on.

During Graeme Wheeler’s five-year term as the Governor of the Reserve Bank (RBNZ), consumer prices rose 1.05 per cent annually. He had a Policy Target Agreement with the Minister of Finance ‘to keep future CPI inflation outcomes between 1 per cent and 3 per cent on average over the medium term, with a focus on keeping future average inflation near the 2 per cent target midpoint.’ I leave others to squabble over whether Wheeler succeeded. I want to offer a very different view of the effectiveness of the RBNZ.

In particular, can the RBNZ target on the rate of inflation? The 1989 RBNZ Act assumed that it could. Monetarists believe it could but their theory is founded on assumptions which are not very credible. One is that the economy is closed to the world without exports, imports or capital flows and that it can be characterised by a single commodity (so you cannot get a divergence between housing and other consumer prices).

The theory was so inadequate that the RBNZ quickly abandoned the monetarist account of how the macroeconomy works for the richer saltwater approach, sometimes called ‘Keynesian’. (‘Freshwater’ is the nickname for those US schools of economics (such as at Chicago) which take a ‘monetarist’ stand. They are a long way from the seacoast, which may explain why they are not too good on open-economy macroeconomics. American Keynesians tend to be at universities close to the coast.)

Let me tell you a secret. In the postwar era New Zealand consumer inflation has been remarkably close to that of the OECD despite a variety of statutory and management regimes and Reserve Bank Governors. The one exception was from the mid 1970s to the end of the 1980s. The international inflationary boom of the 1970s had finished but New Zealand’s kept on longer; finally it came to an end and has since been tracking the OECD’s just as it did before 1978.

We can argue why. The simplistic monetarist explanation is the impact of the 1989 RBNZ Act, but any comprehensive review would recognise that the post-1978 inflation was complicated including the effect of government policy measures (such as GST). Rigid linkages in wage and price setting were making it very difficult to adjust to external economic impacts. In any case, as already mentioned, the RBNZ has not followed monetarist policies even if given a monetarist target.

So what was the RBNZ actually doing? Let me begin with the old-fashioned view that the role of a central bank is to maintain order in the monetary system (a goal that the best central banks attained after the 2008 Gold Financial Crisis (GFC); the RBNZ among them). They did this despite measures, such as ‘quantitative easing’, which were an anathema to the freshwater economists. (Had they been right, the world would now be experiencing very high inflation. Saltwater economists acknowledge that it is possible that in the long run there will be inflation unless the monetary injection is unwound.)

Since the GFC the RBNZ has been increasing the stability of the financial system. Banks have had tighter requirements and today (but not before 2009) the RBNZ has been in charge of the robustness of the non-bank financial institutions.

Particularly obvious to the public has been its concern with high debt on housing which increases the system’s vulnerability to a fall in house prices or a rise in interest rates. (There is a similar problem with farm debt.) Instructively, the RBNZ did not have the means to deal with the danger by itself – brute force aside – and had to wait on a dithering central government. (So much for the belief in the all-powerful RBNZ.) The speculative boom seems to have topped off and the RBNZ is relaxing some of its restrictions (such as the loan-to-value ratio ones). Perhaps it has some confidence that measures promised by the incoming government will reduce the likelihood of a further speculative housing boom.

Even so, the RBNZ measures will not stop from failing an individual financial institution which is imprudent or unlucky. Depositors still need to be cautious. Hopefully, such failures will occur less often; if there is another systemic crisis like the GFC (one which involves the whole system) there may be less damage (but who can be sure?).

Even more obvious to the public is the RBNZ’s six-weekly setting of the OCR (overnight cash rate), which sets the base for our interest rate structure. It is quite a media event (that is, good instant coverage but forgotten shortly after) but what is really going on?

If you believe the conventional wisdom (not always a wise thing to do) you think the RBNZ is targeting inflation. Obviously that is one matter it takes into account but a close reading of its Monetary Policy Statements indicates it is concerned about other aspects of theeconomy. In any case, if we inflate at roughly the same rate as the rest of the rich world, does it matter?

To go back to first principles, the function of a central bank is to maintain order in monetary markets. A major source of disorder would be if our interest rates were to get out of line with the rest of the world. There could be huge and disrupting external financial flows resulting in speculative booms and busts.

The implication is that the RBNZ has to set the OCR, and the consequential interest rate structure, mindful of what is happening in the rest of the world. There is some room for judgement (including short-term fudging) but, ultimately, if world interest rates rise, we follow whatever the state of domestic inflation. Since international rates are increasing, expect ours to also. Do not be surprised if at some stage in the medium future you will be paying more for your house mortgage.

And yes, expect to pay more than you might in many other rich countries. Our interest rates have a margin for exchange rate risk and for our relatively high overseas debt. Just how much, is the sort of area where the aforementioned RBNZ judgement comes into play.

Their decisions have been criticised by those with monetarists predilections and by those who would like different interest rates levels (particularly those with mortgages – indebted journalists rarely consult retirees grumbling about low returns on their savings).

Leaving self-interest and ideology aside, Graeme Wheeler and his team go out with a good record, leaving to the successor team (and the incoming government) a sound financial system. Which is what a central bank should be proud of.

The Fallacy of the Uninformed Celebrity Opinion

Too much of our public discussion is led by those who are have strong opinions based on prejudice and ignorance rather than thorough research and understanding

Bill Gallagher (he’s a knight), chief executive of the Gallagher Group, claimed that the ‘Treaty [of Waitangi] papers on display at Te Papa were fraudulent documents’ as well as making other extravagant statements. (The papers are actually held in the National Library.) Later he apologised,

Before I develop this theme, I want to say that I have the highest regard for the Gallagher Group, best known for their electric fences, as an innovative and successful export company. I also acknowledge that Gallagher interests have been major cultural donors to Hamilton and wider, and that the region is much the better for their activities.

Even so, one may wonder why we should take any notice of Gallagher’s historical and political sentiments. Being a successful businessman does not give one any expertise in other areas as he said in his apology: ‘I am a business person and not a historian. Since then I have been doing further reading and acknowledge that I also need to seek more research and understanding on this topic from various viewpoints.’

You may be astonished by this admission. If you are astonished that anyone in his situation could be so humble as to admit ignorance, I agree. But going off half-cocked in public without having done any serious background preparation is so common that one is not surprised by yet another instance.

It is the celebrity phenomenon. Gaining fame or earning success in New Zealand too frequently generates an arrogance which makes the celebrity think he or she can make worthy announcements on topics well outside their expertise.

It is not confined to business. Those who front the media are particularly prone. The plaudits they get from, say, talk-back listeners mean they readily recycle the public’s views – perhaps articulated a little better – reinforcing errors, prejudices and ignorances.

Another example is millionaires who think their good fortune gives them universal insights which allow them not only to pontificate but to establish political parties which reflect their often eccentric and autocratic views. They seem to flourish in the MMP environment but thus far none has convinced the public sufficiently to elect them into parliament. (There are wells of common-sense in the public.)

Worryingly, even the government promotes the uninformed celebrity. I have yet to see a careful analysis of the flag referendum but right from the beginning one was struck by the ordinariness of the committee of celebrities appointed to guide it. With one or two exceptions they were without any of the relevant expertise for choosing a flag (I lack it too).

Those who puzzle over Prime Minister John Key’s success may find a clue in his choice of a purely populist path to replace the flag. I am not saying that experts should have chosen it; a popular vote on the ultimate choice was probably the right path. (I am comforted that the populace had again the common sense to reject the unattractive choices.) Experts should be on tap, not on top, but they should not be ignored. Getting the right balance between expertise and popular choice is a skill only top politicians really master. I am surprised that Key failed so badly.

We sometimes depend on those who pretend to be experts. For instance the Commissioner for Children’s expert (sic) panel on child poverty was patently not expert in the area; only two members had publications in the report’s rather thin publications list; both were very marginal compared to the rich literature we have on child poverty. We forget this because the celebrities came to the right conclusion that child poverty was a problem which needs to be urgently addressed. But because of its ignorance, the panel lamentably failed to set out a sound underlying analysis. I expect that, as a result, the Labour-led government will be struggling with the reality of efficient policies to address child poverty, especially if it goes, as its predecessor Labour-led government did, for uninformed external advisors.

Part of the problem is that we dislike experts, perhaps because they undermine the fantasies which often underpin our opinions. It is extremely frustrating to be told one’s uniformed conclusions do not fit the facts or logic.

There are often very few experts in a particular area in New Zealand. That partly reflects the size of the country. One New Zealand intellectual, on a per capita basis, is matched by a hundred others living in one of the five other English speaking countries of America, Australia, Britain, Canada and Ireland (one of them is probably an expatriate New Zealand). Because we discourage public intellectual activity the figure is probably higher.

Celebrity public ignorance is not peculiar to New Zealand. Its most prominent display in the past year has been by the President of the United States, who appears unusually unfit for the office he holds but seems to have got elected (on a minority vote) because of his celebrity status. He is such an extreme example one might forgive the parallel but milder outbursts here.

But we should not criticise Trump and his ilk; while producing the same sort of false news and ignorant opinion in New Zealand, if only a little more moderately. Sadly, too often this is exactly what we do.

Trade Deals are about Winners AND Losers

Comparative advantage is rarely important in modern trade deals, such as TPP11 (CPTPP). Why bother?

Economics students have ‘comparative advantage’ drummed into them. The intuition seems commonsense; specialise in what you (or the country) do well and exchange the surplus for what you are not as good at. The economist’s Heckscher-Ohlin model which makes the intuition rigorous can be a bit trying; I regret that it is frequently taught as a proof of the benefits of free trade, and little attention is given to the assumptions that are necessary to get to the conclusion.

However, while comparative advantage lurks behind most advocacy of free trade deals, it is not so important.

In the 1970s, we economists (including Treasury ones) realised that even if the assumptions were true, the gains from trade may be small in practice. The theory says they exist but it does not say how big they are. Further investigation showed that the distributional gains and losses from free trade could be much greater. Some sectors would make big gains (and so would be keen advocates of any deal), others would make losses (they oppose the deals). Because the net overall gains were trivial, it was not practical for the winners to compensate the losers (which is one of the assumptions lurking under the H-O model).

But it does not follow that there were no advantages from reducing protection. At least two other reasons seem important.

The first is that external competition results in better quality (and choice). A simple example from the times: typists used to paste over a mistaken stroke (rather than retyping the entire page). The quality of the locally supplied whitener varied; sometimes it could be downright useless. Faced with sufficient complaints, the Department of Industries and Commerce would institute an enquiry, the local protected manufacturer (and monopolist) promised to do better, and did for a while – until the cycle repeated. Once the protection ended, the quality consistency improved; the threat of foreign competition kept them at speed; there was no need for enquiries.

The second reason can be best explained by an analogy with the earthquake design of a building. Make it too rigid and it cannot cope with a shock. That is true for the protected economy. Our domestic economy adjusted badly to the great shock of the 1966 wool price cash because the protection regime reduced its flexibility. The same is true for smaller shocks.

Such arguments underpin the benefits of an open economy connecting dynamically with the world. Even protectionists want to connect in ways that involve spending foreign exchange. But connection requires a commitment from the other side too. Hence the need for trade deals.

Only some economists accepted this analysis. Others stuck to the comparative advantage argument. Perhaps they had invested too much studying the H-O model to see that it is not very relevant. Meanwhile the Rogernomes (neoliberals), determined to impose their ideological prescriptions, stripped out protection in the 1980s.

There is no evidence that we got substantial material gains from the reduced protection just as the studies in the 1970s predicted we would not, and, just as predicted, there were marked changes in distributional impact with some winning and some losing.

Significantly, no other country was impressed by the sluggish performance of the New Zealand economy. It was a bit like unilaterally taking off all your clothes at a picnic, inviting others to follow you; they looked at the naked apparition and kept their clothes on.

But there were potential gains from trade deals – mutual undressing. The world entered into them enthusiastically. The latest for New Zealand has a dreadful name and acronym; I’ll call it TPP11.

New Zealand has a particular interest in trade deals because of the high level of protection against our primary exports. Any reduction gives us higher prices – and hence higher incomes.

But why should any other country reduce protection on their farmers? Normally we would offer them border concessions in return, but since we have virtually eliminated all our protection we cannot, so we find ourselves having to offer concessions behind the border.

For example, in the TPP12 (the TPP11 plus America) the US demanded that the term for copyright after death be increased from 50 to 70 years. As I wrote at the time, it is hard to justify the extension (indeed, it is hard to justify even 50 years). But there was the tradeoff of better access for some of our agricultural products which would boost farm income. This scholar, dependent on the free flow of information, found the tradeoff painful; some people (farmers) would gain from trade but others (including me) would be worse off. I reluctantly supported the deal.

Fortunately (for me) the US has withdrawn from the TPP deal, and the TPP11 has no such copyright provisions. (It may be resurrected if the US decides to rejoin.) On the other hand we are getting no additional access to US food markets although that the markets of the other ten in the TPP11 – especially Japan – remain. Our farmers will do better but not as well as they would under TPP12.

So trade deals can have significant distributional outcomes. Not only does an improvement in access for our farm exports benefit our farmers (and the economy as a whole) but there are gains to the foreign consumers from lower prices and also to their non-farm sectors which are less burdened by an inefficient farm sector. But yes, their farmers are worse off.

Not all the public criticism of the new TPP11 has been informed; how can it be if we do not yet know the detail? Some of the concessions we make may not be onerous, some will be prudent but it is possible that some will be painful. Those who have been negotiating on the country’s behalf are aware of this; they have had to make distributional judgements.

So I am not uncomfortable if there is dissent against a deal which values the gains and losses differently (providing it is informed). I shall not be surprised if there is even parliamentary opposition; the Greens have indicated they may oppose the TPP11 deal. The distributional balances are for such as Parliament to judge. Worse would be to ignore the distributional issues.

PS. I have not dealt with the ISDS (Investor State Dispute Settlement) system. I wrote a column supporting the notion but regretting the proposed mechanism in the TPP12, another insistence of the US. I await the details of the revised system before I come to a conclusion.

PPS. A select committee was told that a number of our trade deals (including TPP11) had provisions which meant we could not put a tax on exported water. Does that reduce our sovereignty? The short answer is ‘yes’ and ‘no’. Yes, for it is an example of my ‘all trade and all trade deals reduce sovereignty to some extent’. No, because if we felt really passionate we call on our sovereign rights, withdraw from the trade deals and impose the tax.

This seems unlikely in these circumstances (perhaps not in others). The government promises to find a way around the restriction. I may report on that in due course. And yes, I think that water users – include those who export it – should pay for their water.