What Chance a Genuinely Creative Intellectual Community?

Management Magazine, February 2011, p.9.

Keywords: History of Ideas, Methodology & Philosophy;

While like Colin James in his November column (Management Magazine), I would be delighted if New Zealand were to produce a economist or philosopher of the international quality of David Hume or Adam Smith – the leaders of the Scottish enlightenment – the prospect is unlikely, for we just do not have the environment. New Zealand not only fails to value such intellectual effort, but we discourage it. It is not just that the conventional wisdom suffers a colonial cringe, unambitiously imitating foreign fashions promoted by second rate overseas ‘experts’. It also actively discourages, and even represses, those New Zealand intellectuals who criticise its beliefs.

In the late 1980s a number of quality academics in the economics and education department of our universities left New Zealand because they found their careers blocked, while inferior academics were being promoted. Their crime? They criticized the prevailing Rogernomics ethos; today their critiques would be considered quite sensible, as the conventional wisdom, which so uncritically embraced the 1980s fashion, now accepts. Another academic was told he was an unsuitable for a professorial chair because he was ‘too controversial and published too much’. Again the crime was that he persistently criticised Rogernomics; while the economics department he was (not) being considered for proved to have the worst publication record in New Zealand.

Things really have not changed much since that time. Oh, sure, the fashions have, but the conventional wisdom’ attitude to critics persists. Rather than careful evaluations, because they might have something valuable to say, the critics are misrepresented and ignored, in effect suppressing alternative views.

It is no good assuming that the least moribund of our thinktanks may become a world leader. They are a long way behind the frontier of the world intellectual activity, while facing limitations from a tight funding which discourages any originality of ideas. Nor can we expect much from our universities; none in New Zealand are doing anything near the frontier issues with which economics (and perhaps some other disciplines) are grappling. This was nicely illustrate but a recent national economist’s conference in which there was not a single local paper on the Global Financial Crisis – which is only the biggest thing to have happened in economics (and challenge to economic theory) since the 1930s. Perhaps an independent scholar may make some contribution, but would we bother to listen?

Instead of looking for some major international contribution from our intellectual community, we need to set the less ambitious goal of fostering it. It needs to be genuinely innovative and more responsive to realities instead of trying to avoid change by holding the impossible conclusion that the conventional wisdom is so correct it will not change in the future; we need to be less taken by fashion, and pay more attention to gritty analysis. Indeed while the conventional wisdom sees our growth salvation in ‘innovation’ and is willing to spend a fortune on it, its antagonism to intellectual innovation means there is hardly a climate for its promotion, and as like as not we will drive commercial innovation offshore too. (Jumping on this sentiment, rather than mulling it over, is exactly the sort of reaction which undermines innovation.)

We need to expect of our intellectual community – economists not least – that they are in touch with international developments, but that they are sufficiently creative to adapt them for our particular needs; does it make any sense to assume that the New Zealand economy is just like the American one? Most of all we need to understand that while we need a conventional wisdom, it is constantly changing and that we should respect its critics, because they are helping us understand where it may be going.

Taking such an approach will not only mean our conventional wisdom will be more up to date – today’s still contains fallacies we knew were wrong twenty years ago – but it just might be that we will develop some world-class intellectuals, instead of driving them off shore.

A Clash Of Titans

Chaotic capitalist India v orderly communist China.

Listener: 22 January, 2011

Keywords: Political Economy & History;

Some 125 million years ago a huge chunk of land broke off from Gondwanaland, drifting away at a rate of 20 cms a year (roughly five times the speed the West Coast is drifting north). About 50 million years ago, the triangle of the Deccan peninsula smashed into Eurasia, forcing up the Himalayan mountain range. The geological pressures are still there – witness the nearby earthquakes. Add to them political pressures, for north of the range is China, south is India (and Pakistan).

Even the borders of these two countries are unsettled, with a war in 1962 and unresolved boundary claims. Each became an independent nation only about 60 years ago, when the British Raj left the Indian subcontinent in 1947 and Mao’s Communist forces gained control of the Chinese mainland in 1949.

This stimulated debate over which would flourish better – “capitalist” India or “communist” China. We now know communism as it was then defined did not triumph, but neither did the highly intervened market of India – which has also since experienced considerable liberalisation. Today’s contest – if there be one – is between the orderly communist “democracy” of China and the mildly chaotic liberal democracy of India.

China seems to be winning, for its economy is growing at 8-10% a year, while India’s is growing at 6-7% – still two or three times the rate of the rich world. Were it not for China, India would be considered one of the world’s miracle economies.

With its larger village (farm) sector, India is more constrained by biology, whereas China is better placed for the huge American market. It is easy to beat up the prospects of either; India’s growing population will overtake China’s ageing one, which might affect their economic performances. (As a not insignificant aside, authoritarian China was able to impose family planning on its population; when democratic India tried this the government was defeated.) Each also faces various social problems: China has not got a proper middle class; India has caste and communal (religious) tensions. Both have environmental challenges.

Perhaps China’s recent economic success is a bit too, shall we say, “communist”. A major reason for the collapse of the Soviet empire was that its industries could produce only routine mass products. As income levels rose, consumers demanded increasingly complicated and varied goods and services, which required higher quality and nimbler production than Soviet-style economies and firms could deliver.

This applies to investment goods, too: the machinery in China’s successful factories is often produced in the US and Europe, as are the product designs. China and India’s production (including services) needs to become more sophisticated if the countries want to move beyond low-wage mass markets.

There is a view that privately owned Indian business, unshackled by political direction, is better positioned to make this leap. (The underlying argument celebrates the chaos of capitalist markets compared with the order of central direction.) Indians are not weighed down by the Confucian approach to knowledge and so are likely to be more innovative. Only time will settle the argument, but it may not be accidental that Infosys, the 10th largest software developer in the world, started in India.

The rapid growth and size of China and India are changing the shape of the world economy. Depending on how the European Union is treated, they are already respectively the second or third largest economy in the world and the fourth or fifth. We are entering an era of a multipolar world of five great powers, none of which can dominate the other four. Ultimately none can afford to get offside with another – since the other three big powers may align themselves with the “enemy”.

In any case, they want to trade. China and India are even building a railway across the Himalayas to facilitate it. While the geological tensions remain, let’s hope the political ones abate and they both get on with improving the quality of their people’s lives.

This is the first of a series of columns on India, made possible by a travel grant from the Asia New Zealand Foundation.

A New Approach to Reducing Intervention on Farm Products

I wrote this to set out my thinking.

Keywords: Globalisation & Trade;

The economics of the world food system in the twenty-first century is likely to be dramatically different from that of the twentieth. In the past, food prices fell relative to manufacturing prices, as manufacturing concentrated in a few rich (mainly North Atlantic but later also Japan) countries. With the shifting of the world’s manufacturing to lower wage (mainly Asian) economies, the demand for food has risen while the price of manufactures has (relatively) fallen. The FAO has predicted there will be future food shortages because production will not be able to keep up with demand. Hence the likelihood is that the future trend price of food will rise compared to manufactures. That has already been happening since about 1990 (coinciding with East Asian industrialisation).

Much of the response to the shortage will be domestic as new technologies and more capital production methods are introduced (institutional reform is also necessary). However, we should not overlook that there will be also limitations as the world tries to cope with global warming and with biofuels as an alternative to oil. Meanwhile the available land is restricted, there is much soil degradation and water shortages are growing (and aquifers being depleted); ocean fish are also being disappearing.

But international trade in food is not insignificant and will become more important if, as seems likely, the industrialising nations’ supply of food cannot keep up with rising demand. The international trade suffers from a very high level of interventions such as subsidies on domestic production, and quotas and tariffs on imports, especially, but not only, in rich countries. These distort the efficiency of world food supply and the utilisation of the resources whicvh supply it.

An optimist might hope that the rising food prices might mitigate these interventions. In principle those which are a form of income support ought to phase out as relative food prices rise. However not all the interventions are solely about income support and, in any case, because of the erratic way they apply they are likely to maintained and continue to cause production distortions which affect efficiency. Indeed as food prices rise the protection nominally be ratchetted up, nominally to protect farmers when they fluctuate downward but basically to continue to cosset them.

Some of the traditional arguments against the protection remain or become even more expansive. The interventions are fiscally expensive (or indirectly so if market restrictions have the effect of raising prices). As the rich countries enter an age of fiscal austerity (probably for at least a decade) reductions in fiscal outlays would be welcome. (Even the European Union might welcome reductions in farm outlays as it is confronted with the requirement that effective monetary union requiring greater fiscal integration and so a higher degree of fiscal discretion than applyies when half its budget finances the common agricultural policy.)

Moreover, the dumping of the rich countries’ surpluses undermines the capacity of the poor nations to nurture their own farmers. The single best support they can be given is better prices – which will not only add to their standard of living but provide the incentives and the funds to invest and expand their farming. (The pessimist points out that a host of other changes, including institutional – especially land – reform, are also needed.)

The implication of this analysis is that the traditional dispute over farm interventions needs to be extended in the light of the changing world food system. The change is likely to be sufficiently large (and ultimately for political reasons very complex), to make any analysis at this stage preliminary. Additionally any analysis needs to be put in the context of the evolution of the world food system (including response to global warming and biofuels), and not be solely focused on the interventions (which explains this long introduction).

Any analysis probably begins with that the world needs a sustainable and efficient world food supply and distribution. Our best understanding that such a system will be driven by market decisions in which relative input prices reflect the marginal costs of transformation and output price reflect the interaction between the input prices and the public demand for the products. As a general rule these conditions are met best with a minimum of public interventions, especially eliminating those which involve subsidies, tariffs and quota.

Thus international trade in reform in food (agricultural and fishing) becomes a part of the international strategy to improve world food supply. Without them the threats from food shortages will rise.

What makes the reform feasible is the expected rise in food prices. Bit of a bugger for the poor, but that cant be prevented. It can be moderated by improving world food supply (including less intervention) and of course the higher prices benefit subsistence/low income farmers.

The Party Is over

The Great Gatsby recognises the essential role of the economy in human experience.

Listener: 8 January 2011

Keywords: Business & Finance; Literature and Culture; Political Economy & History;

On occasions, Auckland has outbreaks of Great Gatsby parties. This name alludes to the classic F Scott Fitzgerald novel, narrated by Nick Carraway who lives on New York’s Long Island, in a house between “old money” Tom and Daisy Buchanan and “new money” Jay Gatsby.

Gatsby loves Daisy, but years earlier lost her to Tom, because of his humble origins. To show off his subsequent success to Daisy (whose voice was “full of money”), Gatsby puts on lavish parties in his fabulous house. “I [Nick] believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby’s house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited. People were not invited – they went there.”

The novel is set in the flapper times of 1922, or the “Jazz Age”, as Fitzgerald coined it, with its prohibition and heavy drinking, and its superficiality, insincerity, transience – “you can’t live forever, you can’t live for ever” – and dazzling decadence, itself a reaction to the brutality of the Great War. All the main protagonists come from the rural Midwest, to which Nick returns at the end of the novel. “I see now that this has been a story of the West, after all – Tom and Gatsby, Daisy and Jordan and I, were all Westerners, and perhaps we possessed some deficiency in common which made us subtly unadaptable to Eastern life.” More bluntly, they were corrupted by New York.

That was not how it seemed at the time. The American economy was booming (the British one was not), and it was easy to enjoy the consequences of the boom without asking questions like where Gatsby obtained his mysterious colossal wealth. Tom thinks it is bootlegging, but in fact Jay was selling counterfeit bonds. In later times he could have been selling legal but equally worthless financial securities – the novel’s financials still resonate.

Yet although the novel has been turned into films, an opera and plays (including a New Zealand version written by Ken Duncum and produced at the Court and Circa theatres last year), it became a classic only after World War II.

By then the phoniness of the Roaring Twenties was evident following the Great Depression that it precipitated; as Holden Caulfield – of another great American novel, Jerome Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye – would have observed. Aside from narrator Nick, the only honest thing in the tragedy is Jay’s love for Daisy. To pursue it he has to take on a phoney role.

The underlying economy is phoney, too. How often do we overlook, when reading fiction (or history), that the consumption necessary for the story depends on income.

Sure, there are myriads that involve inheritance, land or advantageous wealthy marriage, but those that involve working are much less common. Too often the narration is vague about where the income that pays for the consumption comes from, or it assumes a convenient source, such as inherited wealth (or, in the case of The Bone People, a lottery; in the second half of The Women’s Room it is alimony) that facilitates the leisure on which the story depends. If the main characters worked for a living, they might not have time for the action in the novel.

By contrast, The Great Gatsby recognises the essential role of the economy in human experience. Although Gatsby’s financial activities are necessarily obscure, they underpin the story. (The Buchanan money is inherited. Nick is an honest Wall Street bond dealer and makes only a modest living.) Remarkably, over 80 years ago Fitzgerald portrayed this integral relationship.

Perhaps it was easier to recognise the truth in the American economy, which has been far more prone to dramatic booms and busts than, say, the less-volatile British one. (Perhaps because it has been better regulated. Ironically the Blair-Brown Government abandoned that regulation, and now the British economy is in a proper mess.)

Our Great Gatsby parties occur when the economy is in an unsustainable financial boom. The next time you see one, move your investment into bonds, but make sure they’re not counterfeit.

End Of 2010 Report

Keywords: Miscellaneous;

A quick run down as 2010 turns into 2011; another long year which passed quickly.

I used my NZIER award to spend a fortnight in China (a follow up on the globalisation project) which led to five Listener columns [1]. So I got a grant from the Asia NZ Foundation to spend a fortnight in India (ditto); five columns will be published next year. I’ve put the travelogue on the website [2]. I am subject to incipient gout, which attacked me with a vengeance in India  (spices? lentils?). I’d have been crawling on the floor without assistance from Elizabeth who was with me, an excellent doctor in Delhi, and wheelchairs. Also a quick trip to Barcelona for a conference; unfortunately too many of its art galleries were closed.

You can get an idea of my work for the year from the website. I am especially proud of an account of the political economy based on cheese [3,4];  the paper on regulatory failure arising out of the leaky homes debacle [5]; contributions to Te Ara, the electronic encyclopaedia of NZ [6,7]; and a host of items on the state and prospects of the NZ economies which have been about as successful as Cassandra  at influencing the conventional wisdom [8]. What the CW does not realise is that my thinking is based on an almost 40 year old evolving and empirically driven research program, including a knowledge of past long recessions. [9] And I am proud to have played a small part in the Human Rights Commission winning a case (three times)involving the rights of caring parents of handicapped adult children; Dad would have been so pleased. [10, 11]

What is not on the website is that I have been progressing the history of New Zealand – 110,000 words up to 1918. The super news is that I have a substantial award from the New Zealand History Trust to take the story up to 1966 – I will be under pressure throughout 2011 to achieve the target. (I should also admit to having got carried away last January (2010) I wrote a memoir as a recreational break. It consists of Listener columns each followed  by a essay on its context, in a sequence which tells the story of my professional life. Dont worry about defamation or you being misrepresented; it’s unpublishable at 150,000 words, but I think it interesting.)

I could say I am still living by myself, but I have been joined since May by a friend’s affectionate three year old cat Lady Lupi. (Wish she would stop cuddling me while I am at the keyboard.) As you can expect, we have a disagreement as to the future of the house. Its backrooms are steadily being converted into a library of obscure but well-loved books which friends store there; Lupi, on the other hand, thinks the house would make a good animal cemetery, and regularly brings in specimens – not always dead.

Lupi is Mary Caffin’s cat; I see a lot of Elizabeth and try to be supportive as she struggles with her 94 year old mother; we also go to the theatre, music and openings a lot.

Anita had an operation to remove the tumour from the pituitary gland; she is much better, but they did not get it all. Despite the medical challenges she is continuing her very successful career as a consultant in information management. She is currently touring Vietnam. Tama and Heather have settled down in their house in Nelson; Tama has had a few medical mishaps too, but seems to have got over them. Both are working for the Tasman District Council; Heather with children in its library; Tama runs their website.  He’s out biking somewhere in the wilderness. Got to Nelson twice this year. The Christchurch family seems to have survived the earthquake with but broken crockery and the like, but the continuing tremors remain unnerving.

Next year? The focus is on the history, but I may also curate an exhibition for the NZ Portrait Gallery. Trip to a conference in San Francisco in February; be out of the country for the World Cup (expect to make a fortune hiring the house out to rugger buggers – for advertising purposes we are renaming the vacant section at the end of the street ‘Eden Park’).

[1] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1364

[2] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1400

[3] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1390

[4] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1386

[5] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1097

[6] http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/economic-history

[7] http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/income-and-wealth-distribution

[8] see http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?cat=19

[9] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1101

[10] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1396

[11] http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1393

Growth and Recessions Of Economic Output: 1861-1939

This is an appendix for ‘Not in Narrow Seas: New Zealand History from an Economic Perspective’, a book I am writing. It is published here so that people can access the technical material. The data is available on request.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money; Political Economy & History; Statistics;

Over the last sixty years we have got into the habit of thinking about the course of the economy as ongoing exponential growth with ever rising standards of living – small hiccups aside. The rate of that underlying growth – the secular trend – might vary with some periods slower than others, some faster, while imposed over any secular trend is a (relatively regular) business cycle which might even have periods of brief retardation. But its amplitude is small relative to the long term growth trend. Of course in the distant past there were periods – centuries and millennia – of economic stagnation (or perhaps very, very slow growth) but some time ago – among the nineteenth century North Atlantic economies – the process of ongoing exponential growth began as a continuing part of economic experience.

Many of the generalisations in the preceding paragraph are contestable – even wrong. In particular while without question output per head has risen substantially in the last 150 years (by around ten times), the pattern – for New Zealand anyway – has not been a simple story of exponential growth. There have been long periods of stagnation (‘long recessions’ or ‘depressions’), in all covering more than a third of the period, and over half of the first eighty years.

While the specific interest is to describe this historical evolution of the New Zealand economy, the experience is also of contemporary interest. Forecasters implicitly or explicitly, assume a growth trend fitting a cycle around it. Getting that (probably changing in the long term) secular trend right is crucial; the bias, arising from recent history, towards a rising trend rather than the possibility of a longish period of stagnation could mislead the short term forecasting.

Some Tangential Issues

There are some issues which may be triggered by the data in this chapter even though they are, to some extent, tangential to its central concern. They are dealt with immediately to enable a focus on the course of the New Zealand market economy up to 1939. The series’ definitions and problems are dealt with in the appendix.

Welfare and Output

Is Gross Domestic Product (or some related measure of output or income) per person a measure of welfare of a nation? While an unqualified ‘yes’ is often attributed to the economics profession it has never been true that they all uncritically equated national output with welfare. Simon Kuznets, creator of the statistical base from which GDP derives, wrote in his original report in 1934 ‘the welfare of a nation can scarcely be inferred from a measurement of national income’,[1] while John Kenneth Galbraith wrote an elegant chapter decrying per capita GDP as a measure of welfare in his Affluent Society published in 1958.[2] Less well-trained politicians, journalists and business people like to talk about GDP as if it is a measure of welfare claiming that all economists agree with them – even when they dont.

Why, if economists have known for last 75 years that GDP was inadequate as a measure of welfare have they not constructed a better measure? The short answer is that they have tried, and they have not been able to. (Non-economists have tried too, but without understanding the complexities or subtleties of the exercise.)

A committee led by Joseph Stiglitz and Amartya Sen, two contemporary giants of the profession, is considering the matter again. Their preliminary report concluded there is no single measure of economic welfare, but there may be a number of indicators (thereby providing a critique of the non-economist’s attempts to replace GDP with another single indicator).[3] Had a unique single measure of a nation’s welfare been possible, economists would have developed it shortly after 1934. One must never assume that the best economists are as stupid as their critics.

The difficulties of using output (or income) measures as an indicator of welfare have been reinforced by recent research which suggests that the correlation between per capita output (or real income) and self-reported happiness is tenuous, at least among the more affluent countries.[4] At the very least, doubling of the indicator does not double happiness – New Zealanders are certainly not ten times happier today than they were in 1860 – it may not increase it much at all. This is a burgeoning research area – currently fraught with paradoxes and without any accepted comprehensive conclusion. But unquestionably it underlines how wrong it is to equate output/income with welfare.

(The research suggests significant gains in happiness from an output increase in less affluent countries. It may not be coincidental that the foundations of utilitarian theory were constructed in the early nineteenth century, when average Western Europeans had a lower per capita income than those in most of today’s poor countries; perhaps the assumption that increased consumption increased happiness may have been closer to the truth then.)

The reason that this chapter – and indeed the book – is interested in GDP is because it measures output, despite changes in output not reflecting changes in people’s welfare, nor changes in the way people live. Arguably the changing the composition of out put (including new products) and the changing methods of production (including new processes, some of which enable the increasing leisure) which changes the lives people lead, rather than the rise in their material consumption.

Economic Growth and Sustainability.

The view that economies depend on unlimited economic growth cannot be true since economies have stagnated for literally millennia; the view that the study of economics depends upon unlimited economic growth cannot be true either since many giants of the economics profession – including Thomas Malthus, David Ricardo, Karl Marx, John Maynard Keynes and Joseph Schumpeter – were stagnationists who expected economic growth to come to an end. Keynes wrote of the ‘euthanasia of the rentier’ because, as capital accumulated, the return on capital would fall, until there would be no incentive to invest, and economic growth would stop; many other economists thought so too.[5]

The difficulty with this stagnationist expectation is that per capita incomes in the rich world quadrupled in the 180 odd years between Ricardo and Schumpeter. By the 1950s, as the data became available, it became evident that a theory of economic growth dominated by pure capital accumulation was inconsistent with the facts.

The stagnationist models tended to underplay the importance of technical change which enables the same capital and labour to produce more (or different sorts) of products. That was the insight of Robert Solow’s famous 1957 paper.[6] About this time the belief of ongoing exponential growth became more common, eventually to dominate the way we think about the economies The implication is that as long as technical progress continues there will be rising output in the long run. When it ceases, the stagnationist expectation will become relevant again. (This is a long term prognosis. In the short term there may a business cycle which involves temporary stagnation or contraction.)

Nevertheless, it can be argued that the current economic system is dependent upon economic growth since the true profit rate is close to the growth rate in the long run; so no growth means no profits. Since it is difficult to conceive of the existing system functioning on the basis of zero profits – a variation of the Keynesian ‘euthanasia of the rentier’ thesis – when growth exhausts itself the nature of the economic system would change.

That this chapter is exploring exponential growth – or the lack of it – does not mean that it assumes that such growth is inevitable. Concerns about unlimited growth are irrelevant except for the future. The issue here is the past growth record.

Subsistence Production

There are two further major defects of GDP. First it may not include the output of subsistence producers, especially farmers, which is consumed by the producer and possibly swapped without being commercially traded in the market. Many settlers in the first three quarters of the nineteenth century were subsistence farmers and most Maori remained so well into the twentieth.

Domestic Non-market Production

Second, since domestic production (production in the household which is not paid for) generally has no market value (that is, it is not traded in the market), it does not usually appear in GDP.[7] That does not mean it is unimportant or lacks social value. Its omission is simply a consequence of the way GDP is defined (and the difficulties of otherwise measuring it, for despite trying economists have not been able to find a robust way to incorporate domestic activity into a wider output measure). Perhaps domestic production might be treated as the largest subsistence sector; it persists as such, although probably on a reduced relative scale scale compared with the past, to this day.

This omission has generated much anxiety because it seems to devalue domestic activity – much of which is women’s work. In economic history, there is a different problem. The domestic (in the sense of housework et al) sector has also experienced major productivity improvements over the years. How large has not been unmeasured, but presumably they are not exactly the same as in the market sector, while the relative productivity growth between the sectors probably varied; it is likely there were periods in which domestic productivity rose faster than market activity.

This effect cannot be ignored, because of the interface between two sectors. Some of the contributions to domestic productivity – better houses – appear as capital goods in the market sector, others, such as domestic appliances like refrigerators and vacuum cleaners, are consumer goods. Much of the domestic productivity came from outsourcing as food and clothing which are now purchased but were produced in the home in the past; child care is a service example. The domestic productivity improvements increased household leisure but they also released labour into the market sector – first domestic servants, later as (married) women worked for remuneration.

Given the lack of material – other than anecdote – there is little we can do here, except be aware of the limitations. We return to the issue more fully in a later chapter.

Population

In a modern economy population growth chugs along at around 1 percent p.a. Variations affect the economy in part through the demand for facilities and the resulting stimulation of the building and construction industry. In the medium to long term, shifts – such as the aging of the population – may matter. But population change in the nineteenth century – even if we ignore the decline of the Maori, and subsume it into the total – was dramatic in proportional terms.

A good approximation is that between 1861/62 and 1938/39 New Zealand’s population increased by 19,000 each year (although the dominant cause of the increase shifted from migration, to births and then an offsetting mortality). That meant an increase of around 1 percent on the end 1938/39 population of 1.6m but over 10 percent on the beginning population of 180,000 in 1861/62.

Rapid population growth from immigration generates an air of prosperity which is not evident in the per capita GDP figures. The migrants may well feel incomes are higher than their origin economies (assuming unemployment was no worse). Their arrival creates opportunities for entrepreneurs, while increasing the population – a doubling occurred in the decade in the 1860s – may lead to gains from economies of scale. There may even be, as a result, a general lift in incomes of the established population and from the additional rents that property owners would expect to receive.

We shall return to the population issue below; it is probably not so important after the ‘Vogel’ period other than the loss of manpower during the war, which is covered in the next chapter.

The Quantitative Evidence: 1861/62-1938/39

As explained in the appendix there are two independent series – the Rankin series and the Greasley-Oxley series – of per capita volume GDP which start in the middle of the nineteenth century. They run from 1861/2, 1938/39. (All the GDP data discussed in this chapter are ‘volume’ or ‘real’, that is adjusted for changes in the overall price level, and per capita. )

Over the 77 years to 1938/39 the Rankin series shows a trend increase of 0.8 percent p.a. while the Greasley-Oxley series shows an increase of 0.5 percent p.a. Both figures may be misleadingly high because they do not allow for the shift from subsistence production to market production. They are both low by the standards of the post -Second World War economy.

The difference of 0.3 percent p.a. between the two series in their mean rate of growth may reflect measurement error, although a 0.3 percentage annual points compounds to a 25 percent difference over 77 years. Some of the difference would arise if service sectors volume rose faster than commodity sector ones, for the Greasley-Oxley series is based only on the commodity sectors (agriculture, mining and manufacturing) and largely omits the service sector.[8] It may well underestimate total GDP volume growth. That should not – by itself – affect the medium term swings around the long term trend.[9] In the following we shall be inclined toward treating the Rankin long run growth rate – derived from spot estimates – as closer to reality.

Figure 1 shows the raw data from 1861/2 to 1938/39. It is very jerky, so in order to reduce measurement noise in the series and to override the three year business cycle is also shown. This smoothing however, blunts the points at which there is a change in the underlying trend. (We know very little about the business cycles in this period, although we would also be surprised if both series had the same cyclical turning points.[10])

Are the long term deviations from the secular trend consistent with the qualitative historical narratives? Can we refine the narrative with the data?

The 1860s to about 1875

Both series show above trend output in the 1860s, although the patterns are rather different. The Rankin Series is one of steady growth to about 1875, with no evidence of a mining boom, perhaps because many of the transactions would have been carried out with (sometimes foreign) coins which are not included in the estimate of the money stock, on which the series is based.

The Greasley-Oxley series shows a boom peaking in 1869, and a marked contraction to about 1875. One suspects that had it included the building and construction sector, the peak would have been earlier, and the contraction sharper The G-O series conforms more closely to the historical narrative. When he launched his borrowing and development program in 1870 Vogel would have been puzzled by the story the Rankin series tells, but a G-O series with building and construction was closer to Vogel’s account of the times.

Of course Vogel did not have the GDP figures. His indicators were what was happening in business as the alluvial gold and war economies ran down. The resulting slowing of immigration (and hence population growth) would also have depressed the economy, or at least reduced business opportunities (following our earlier discussion on the impact of immigration).

In summary, the available GDP series are supportive, and such discrepancies as there are between them and the traditional narrative can be better explained by their limitations rather than because of major errors in the narrative.

1875-1895

From the mid-1870s the Rankin Series per capita GDP remains much the same until about 1895, although real income was slightly higher in the early part of the period. Thus the data is consistent with the notion of a long recession.

The Greasley-Oxley Series shows some growth from the mid 1870s to the mid 1890s. The level of output is below the long term tend but roughly matching it. Again the lack of the building and construction sector may be distorting the pattern. The public works program initiated by Vogel hardly appears in the sectors the series covers. Without this sector, the series does not really tell a story of a ‘Long Depression’ – perhaps the best it tells is of a ‘growth recession’, a period of modest but below capacity growth. (The moving average does not return to its 1869 peak until 1891.)

The data series supports the narrative describing a long period in the 1870s, 1880s and 1890s in which economic growth was, at best, subdued. Allowing for its limitations it suggests a long recession (or the ‘Long Depression’) although the data is arguably closer to the Sutch account of the economy being depressed or slow growing from the late 1860s. [11]

1895 to 1910

Both series show an acceleration of the growth rate from sometime towards the end of the nineteenth century. Between 1895 and 1910 the Rankin Series shows a per capita increase of about a third (an annual growth rate of about 2 percent, more than double its long run rate). The Greasley-Oxley series shows a 19 percent increase between 1895 and 1902, a 2.8 percent annual increase, over five times it average secular rate.

Despite the differences in the peak both series show a substantial acceleration of the growth rate from the mid 1890s, but the acceleration peters out for both in the following decade.

Most historical narratives imply rising prosperity in the early years of the Liberal Government, although there is a tendency in the narratives to locate the upturn earlier (perhaps because they see it as a consequence of government policies). Nevertheless one gets from them a sense that in the latter stages of the first decade of the twentieth century the Liberal government was struggling. This is usually attributed to Ward taking over from Seddon, but it may be the economy began stagnating and Seddon was lucky (in this narrow sense) to get out while his reputation was still intact.

1910- 1929

From the end of the growth acceleration (1909/10 in the case of the Rankin Series, 1901/2 in the case of the Greasley-Oxley Series) output per head once more stagnates.

In the case of the Rankin Series, the stagnation is until the Great Depression which commenced in 1929, when there was a sharp contraction.

The Greasley-Oxley Series story is a little more complicated. Basically the output per capita track is level from 1901/2 to 1916/7, and then there is a fall of about 8 percent in the four years to 1920/1 after which the series broadly flattens off again until 1928/9 – perhaps there is some weakening at the end of the period. It is also a more volatile series than the Rankin one. If we moderate the track by allowing for a faster growing service sector then it is flatter but still weaker in the 1920s compared to the 1910s.

The Lineham Series shows a volume growth rate of 1 percent p.a. from 1917/18 to 1928/29, which seems more prosperous than the historical narrative. The Chapple Series is too short (from 1926/7) to identify any trends but seems to report a mild contraction from its beginning through to the Great Depression.

There are a number of complications in the the First World War and interwar period but the basic conclusion is that the twenty odd years were, at best. very subdued in terms of per capita output and probably stagnant. Contemporary accounts are broadly consistent with that; their memory was largely swept away by the Great Depression.

The Great Depression: 1928/29-1934/35

The seven year moving average method does not work well for this period because while there was a sharp contraction and while the depression was deep it was also short – only seven years. That is very evident in all the raw series, and will be discussed in the relevant chapter.

After 1934/35

All the output per head series show a sharp rise after 1934/35. This was not a depression recovery; the series tend to show per capita output at above the 1928/29 level by 1935/36.

Later we shall consider the evidence that the strong growth path continued into the 1940s, Given that this period covers about half of the boom we leave it here.

Conclusion

While the statistical series present a number of challenges of interpretation they are broadly consistent with the narrative. What is really important is they demonstrate that for over half of the eighty years after 1860 – from at least 1875 to 1895 and from (probably) 1910 to 1935 – output per capita was largely stagnant or falling.

NOTES TO DEFINING AND MEASURING OUTPUT

Definitions of GDP

This Chapter uses GDP because it is the most readily available indicator of output, not because it is a perfect measure. To simplify, nominal Gross Domestic Product is the market value of the goods and services produced in a particular area. One of the influences on that change is price changes. Real (or volume) GDP involves using the same set of market prices (often the prices for a given year) on each period’s output, in order to eliminate the effects of price changes – of inflation and deflation. However it is not a perfect measure because it can be influenced by the choice of the particular set of market prices, especially important in a small open economy which can experience major changes in the relative price of exports and imports – the terms of trade.

It is usual to scale GDP by measuring it relative to population. Over long periods the composition of population – including the proportion of adults in the workforce – changes so per capita (real) GDP does not give a reliable indication of productivity change.

Even in narrowest economics terms per capita GDP is not the best aggregate measuring welfare through time. A better aggregate would be National Income measured in constant expenditure prices rather than production prices. A major difference between the two are that depreciation of capital which is deducted from GDP (and is probably not important) and that expenditure and production prices differ by the terms of trade.

Another adjustment is instead of measuring income generate in the country – domestic [12] – to measure the income generated by the residents of the country – national. The largest source of this difference for the New Zealand economy is that some of the domestic income is earned by investors who live off shore; without a corresponding offset of New Zealand investors obtaining a similar magnitude from their offshore investments.

The various deductions give National Income. The choice of GDP in this narrative is largely because it is the measure used in the national discourse. But attention will be drawn to any difference where the distinction matters (other than that GDP tends to be higher).

Measures of GDP

The main text is based on a series which is synthesised from various series. Here is an account of them before the synthesis. (There are various simplifications in this account which does not purport to be an authoritative review of the series, and which omits some caveats.)

As will become apparent, the indexes used to measure GDP are of varying quality so it is necessary to say something about their origins. As a general rule, the further back a series reports the less reliable it is.

Statistics New Zealand: SNA Nominal and Volume Series 1977/8 – to present

Statistics New Zealand (SNZ) has produced GDP related series back to (March year) 1931/32, albeit on different conceptual bases (and subject to different degrees of accuracy). Undoubtedly the best are the SNA (international System of National Accounts) estimates which go back to 1977/8. They are calculated on both the expenditure and income sides of the national accounts which provides a cross-check, and are available both nominally and in volume terms. The latter estimates are based upon sectoral output series either deflating nominal measures or using a direct volume indicator (e.g. kilos of wool produced).

Statistics New Zealand: ONA Nominal and Volume Series 1954/5 – 1977/8

The earlier comprehensive SNZ series, labelled ONA (Old National Accounts), was calculated primarily on the nominal income side of the national accounts with the expenditure side components calculated separately except for the private consumption which was a residual.

They were originally measured as GNP, that is the output generated by New Zealand nationals, rather than the output generated in New Zealand, but can be readily converted to GDP if the latter information is available.

Volume GDP was calculated by various methods on the expenditure side (but not on the output side) back to 1954/55.

A particular issue is that this series and the later (SNA) one do not overlap properly at 1977/78, because of an inventory measurement problem.[13] It does not matter much in the long term, but does matter for medium term assessments and led to misleading understandings in the 1980s.

Statistics New Zealand: ONA Nominal Series 1938/9 – 1954/5

Constructed in a similar manner to the later (post-1954/55) with some gaps during the war (which can be interpolated). However there is no official volume series. The conversion was done by the In Stormy Seas approach described below.

Statistics New Zealand Nominal Series: 1931/32 – 1937/38

This may not be an ‘official series’, but it is reported in some New Zealand Official Yearbooks and so is more ‘official’ than the unofficial ones described below. It is only nominal, and constructed as a measure of national income (i.e. on the income side), with no expenditure side estimates at all. It can be scaled to GDP, and can be converted to a volume series by the GDP deflator method as for the ONA from 1938/39 to 19454/55.

Chapple Series: 1925/6-1937/8. [14]

Simon Chapple took the SNZ series from 1931/2 to 1938/39, added an earlier estimate for 1925/26 and interpolated the intervening years. [15]

Lineham Nominal Series: 1917/18-1938/39. [16]

Brent Lineham constructed a nominal series based on sectoral outputs – which formally is the correct way to measure GDP. He did not construct a volume series.

The Stormy Seas Volume Series: 1917/18-1954/55.[17]

In my In Stormy Seas: The Post-War New Zealand Economy I used the ONA series, the SNZ 1931/2 to 1938/39 series, and the Lineham series (slightly improved at the beginning with a better farm output series) – deflated by a GDP price index to provide a volume GDP series for the period. (The GDP deflator was a weighted average of the available long term price indexes.[18])

G-O: Greasley-Oxley Series: 1860/61 – 1938/39.[19]

David Greasley and Les Oxley constructed a volume output series based upon recorded exports and domestic sales. As such, the G-O measurement corresponds most closely to that used in official (SNA) measures of real GDP series. However it suffers from the following deficiencies:

1. It only the farm, manufacturing and mining sectors, excluding the others which made up half of the economy in the inter-war period.[20] Use of the series as a direct indicator of the economy as a whole requires the assumption that the measured sector to unmeasured sector ratio has been reasonably constant. However, the other sectors grew about 2 percent p.a. faster in nominal terms than the three measured sectors in the interwar period. This may, however, reflect rising relative prices rather than faster relative volume increases.[21]

(Insofar as the other sectors have a different sectoral pattern – the building and construction sector in particular tends to be more volatile than other sectors – their exclusion may mean the G-O series does not capture the business cycle well.)

2. It probably does not cover the subsistence sector well. This is not so much a weakness of the series per se, but of all series covering the nineteenth century unless specific attention is paid to the subsistence sector. None of the New Zealand series do.

3. The method assumes that there are no major changes to inventories. Normally this would affect the business cycle, but in addition there were major inventory buildups of wool, meat and dairy products during the First World War (towards the end sometimes amounting to over a year of production), followed by an unwinding in the early 1920s. (There were also build up of wool on wealthier farms during the Great Depression.)

Unfortunately the late 1910s and early 1920s period is important in statistical terms because it is a lap period between series. So I replaced the farm output series for the period 1915 to 1925 with an output series constructed by Todd Simpson.[22]

(It was not necessary to do this for the Great Depression wool stocks , which were smaller, the turn round was quicker, and it is not in a lap period.)

The GO series does not align on the available spot nineteenth century estimates.

Rankin Series: 1858/59 to 1938/39.[23]

Keith Rankin constructed a series which goes back slightly earlier than the Gresham-Oxley series, using contemporary estimates with a money-multiplier method to interpolate between them. The method had been earlier used in New Zealand by Gary Hawke. (below), It is a synthetic (indirect) approach since it assumes a relationship between GDP and another aggregate, in this case the stock of money.

He describes his method thus: ‘The quality of my data [GNP, not GDP]is based first and foremost on the quality of the contemporary estimates around which they are based. Secondly it is based on the quality of the Australian non-monetary estimates. The interpolations were based on velocity estimates drawn from patterns in Australian macro data, and not on Hawke’s assumption that the dates of the Australian business cycle matched the dates of the NZ cycle. Also crucial to my methodology was the verification of differences in the Australian and NZ cycles with the trans-Tasman migration data.’ [24]

I have scaled up the GNP series on the assumption of a constant ratio to GDP. Presumably the estimates do not cover the subsistence sector, since it does not have a lot of to do with money. An additional complication is that the series is calculated as a nominal aggregate, and deflated by the consumer price index which is not a good indicator of the GDP deflator.

Hawke Series; 1870-1918. [25]

The Hawke series, which follows a similar Brazilian approach, used money multipliers without calibrating on the available estimates. It is only available as a nominal series. Hawke says the ‘technique produces a stop-gap rather than a substitute’ and estimated derived ‘from records of factor rewards or products’. [26]

Madison Series: 1-2008. [27]

The Maddison series is a comprehensive data base of world GDP and population through the Common Era. Intermittent estimates for New Zealand go back to 1000CE (sic) but are annual

from 1870. The period to 1938/39 are based on the Rankin series.

The strength of the Maddison data base is that it allows comparisons with other countries. However, as the 1000 AD New Zealand GDP shows, it may not be up-to-date. Latest understandings suggest there were no humans in the economy at that time.

Because the 1870 to 1939 figures are based on the Rankin Series they are not treated separately in the main text.

Population

There is an official population data base going back to 1840. In each period it is probably a lot more accurate than the best available GDP estimates, although care needs to be taken for the inclusion or exclusion of the Maori population, the estimates for which are less reliable.

The Labour Force

In order to calculate average labour productivity it is necessary to have a labour force series. Unfortunately the ideal is near impossible for the early years, and consistency requires the same definition for later years.

The best that could be done was to construct a series based on those who reported their membership of the labour force in census returns and interpolate where annual estimates are not available. In the early years the census did not ask Maori for their workforce status. These were extrapolated by assuming similar participation rates by age to the non-Maori labour force although Maori were more likely to be in the subsistence sector. .

It was not possible to adjust for unemployment since there are no census data before 1896; in any case the notion may be less meaningful in the nineteenth century. Because unemployment is more volatile between censuses than labour force participation it is not sensible to interpolate it or employment numbers. Nor is it possible to adjust for hours worked until the late 1940s. The productivity series is therefore indicative and interesting but not even as reliable as the GDP per capita series. So the resulting ‘productivity’ series is not reported in this chapter.

This Appendix has benefited from detailed comments by Keith Rankin.

Endnotes

[1] S. Kuznets (1934) ‘National Income, 1929-1932′ 73rd US Congress, 2d session, Senate document no. 124.

[2] J. K. Galbraith (1958) The Affluent Society

[3] Report of the Commission on the Measurement of Economic Performance Et Social Progress (2009) http://www.stiglitz-sen-fitoussi.fr/documents/rapport_anglais.pdf

[4] R. Lanyard (2005) Happiness: Lessons From A New Science

[5] J. M. Keynes (1936) The General Theory of of Employment, Interest, and Money, Book VI, Chapter 24, Concluding Notes

[6] R. Solow (1957) ‘Technical Change and the Aggregate Production Function’. Review of Economics and Statistics 39 (3): 312–320.

[7] Confusingly economics uses the term ‘domestic’ in two quite distinct ways. In Gross Domestic Product it refers to the boundaries of a jurisdiction, so that New Zealand GDP refers to the production within the boundaries of New Zealand, which is different from Gross National Product which refers to the production by New Zealand citizens (nationals) which may occur offshore, but excludes production by non-citizens inside New Zealand, most notably the returns on their investments here. But ‘domestic’ production also refers to non-market economic activity in the household (which is typically not included in GDP). To reduce the confusion, the term ‘domestic’ in the second sense will have the word ‘household’ close to it.

[8] The Greasley-Oxley series measures the production gross, which means that the outputs of the service sector which are inputs to the commodity sectors are included in their gross output.

[9] I added 0.3 percent p.a. to the G-O growth rate, bringing the long term trends of the two series to much the same. However the adjusted G-O series has the late 19th century growth boom from the mid 1880s rather than the Rankin series mid 1890s, and peaks at the beginning of the 1900s rather than closer to 1910.

[10] An ambiguity arises since the exact period of the data estimate may be end of the defined year, its middle, or the average level over the year. Without quarterly data, business cycle identification can be haphazard – with it, the exercise merely becomes difficult..

[11] W. B. Sutch (1957) Long Depression.

[12] See footnote 7.

[13] B. Easton (1992) The 1977/78 Downturn in the New Zealand Economy http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=76

[14] S. Chapple (1994) ‘How Great was the Depression in New Zealand? Neglected Estimates of Interwar Aggregate Income’, New Zealand Economic Papers, p.195-203. See also K. Rankin (1994) comment p.205-209.

[15] For interpolation he used nominal factory value added, which may not be the best series for this purpose. To give a level comparable to the three other series (which are based on 1938/9 = 1000), it is based on their average in 1937/8, there being no 1938/39 one.

[16] B. T. Lineham (1968) “ New Zealand’s Gross Domestic Product 1918/38′, New Zealand Economic Papers, Vol 2, No 2, !968, p. 15-26.

[17] B. H. Easton (1997) In Stormy Seas: The Post-War New Zealand Economy, Appendix A5.

[18] B.H. Easton(1990) A GDP Deflator Series for New Zealand: 1913/4-1976/7, Massey Economic Papers, B9004.

[19] D. Greasley & L. Oxley (2008) Reinventing New Zealand: Institutions Output Patents 1870-1939, Working Paper 15/2008, Department of Economics, University of Canterbury.

[20] Lineham op cit, p.16

[21] Note that the G-O outputs are measured gross, so any inputs from other sectors into the measured ones are included. It could be argued that the difference in long term growth rates between the Rankin and G-O series reflects this omission. The gap is consistent with what the 2 percent p.a. might suggest.

[22] T. E. Simpson (1991) The Origins of Statutory Producer Control Legislation in New Zealand Agriculture: 1914-1925, MCA Thesis, VUW, Appendix 1.

[23] K. Rankin (1992) “New Zealand’s Gross National Product: 1859-1939” Review of Income and Wealth, 38, No 1 pp.49-69.

[24] K. Rankin (2010) per com. 14, October 2010.

[25] G. R. Hawke (1975) “Income Estimation from Monetary Data: Further Explorations”, Review of Income and Wealth, 21, pp.301-307.

[26] Op. cit. p.306.

[27] http://www.ggdc.net/maddison/

Waiting for Roger

We should be so Lucky.

Listener: 25 December, 2010.

Keywords: Literature and Culture; Political Economy & History;

A country road. A tree. Evening.

JOHN: Charming spot. Inspiring prospects. Let’s go.

BILL: We can’t.

JOHN: Why not?

BILL: We’re waiting for economic growth.

JOHN: (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You’re sure it was these policies?

BILL: Which?

JOHN: That we were to implement.

BILL: Those we have been doing?

JOHN: Yes.

BILL: And there is no sign of the economic growth?

JOHN: No.

BILL: But it might come tomorrow.

JOHN: Roger said if it did not come today, it would come tomorrow.

BILL: Certainly?

JOHN: Certainly.

BILL: Then we should wait?

JOHN: And economic growth will come?

BILL: If not today, then tomorrow.

JOHN: Roger said it would …

JOHN: We’ll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause) Unless economic growth comes.

BILL: And if it comes?

JOHN: We’ll be saved.

BILL: Well? Shall we go?

JOHN: Well? Shall we go?

BILL: Yes, let’s go.

They do not move.

It’s easy to use Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot to parody our angst-ridden economic debate, always promising the arrival of a faster economic growth that, like Godot, never comes. Perhaps Pozzo is even more relevant. When he first appears in the play, the tramps, Estragon and Vladimir, think he might be Godot but they are soon disabused. Pozzo proves arrogant, self-absorbed, bullying, conceited and cruel – one of the most detestable characters in the entire dramatic corpus. His treatment of his slave, Lucky, attached to a long rope that cuts into his neck, is abominable.

So, what exactly Beckett was thinking of when he created Pozzo? When the play was written in the 1940s, there were some brutal dictators (there still are), in which case Lucky may represent their tyrannised subjects. One of the most painful sequences in the play is when Lucky is ordered to “think”, and chants as a rambling monologue a meaningless sequence of incoherent ideas, unable to articulate his own tragedy.

In the second act, a blind Pozzo reappears with Lucky. There is no self-reflection, only the addition of self-pity. One wants to call out to Lucky, “He can’t see you, take off your rope, kick him in the shins and run.” But the attitudes that underpin the incoherent monologue tie him eternally to Pozzo.

It is a measure of the play’s universality – rather than my anachronism – that Pozzo reminds me of members of the international financial community. In act one of the Global Financial Boom they were – oh so – confident about their contribution to the public welfare. In act two, after the crash, they still fail to express doubts about their contribution, continuing to pay themselves obscenely high bonuses. There is no self-reflection, for they cannot see that the substantial public bailouts that have saved their jobs might suggest they have made less of a contribution than they like to claim. Like the Bourbons, they have forgotten nothing and learnt nothing.

Are we then Lucky, tied to this financial community by a half-baked philosophy? I cannot tell. But I can say many were lucky earlier in the year to see London’s Theatre Royal Haymarket Company production of the play, starring Sir Ian McKellen (Estragon), Roger Rees (Vladimir), Matthew Kelly (Pozzo) and Brendan O’Hea (Lucky). The tramps were portrayed as credible human beings with a depth and dignity that in 400 years may see the roles compared to those of Shakespeare’s greatest comic characters.

Despite the summary of Waiting for Godot as a play in which “nothing happens – twice”, there is a kind of progress. The dead tree of the opening act has leaves in the second act – a glimmering of optimism. The play concludes with the two tramps’ recognition that they have each other. If there is a conclusion, it is surely that in this angst-ridden world we still have one another – the message of this time of the year; Merry Christmas.

Supporting the Disabled

For my evidence see http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1393.

Keywords: Health; Social Policy;

One of the ways I earn my crust is as a consultant. Although it often involves very satisfying economics, I rarely use the experience directly in my public writings (and if I do I tell you). Another rule is dont get too involved in the case. My job is to tell the client what they need to know – not, as is the practice of some consultants, what they want the public to hear. Let me break these rules in regard to a recent case, about which I feel passionately.

It involved a claim before the Human Rights Tribunal by nine families with handicapped adult children, who argued they were discriminated against. The state, properly, funds additional care for the children – in various ways they can be quite a handful, so the family needs extra help and sometimes respite care. But when the family provides the care itself – exactly the same care that the state pays for, not just ordinary hour-to-hour care – the state refuses to pay. Extraordinarily then, it discriminates against parents.

As an aside, consultant economists are allowed to be indignant. The financial incentives were perverse. What this policy means is that if some support was arranged, but it failed to turn up and the parents did the job anyway, the Ministry of Health saved the cost of the arrangements. The more inefficient the Ministry was, the less it spent.

But indignation is not passion. To explain its source, you need to know that in the second half of his working life Dad was a psycho-pediatric nurse at Templeton Hospital and Training School outside Christchurch. The institution, since closed down, looked after intellectually handicapped adults like some of the complainants to the Tribunal. (Others complainants were mentally very competent but severely physically handicapped.) To be frank, such people are rarely handsome and are usually gawky in manner and behaviour, perhaps not the sort of people I would have chosen to knock around with as a lad. But I did, because Dad worked with them. In doing so, I found that while they may not have been as bright as me, they had the emotions and the charm of ordinary human beings, and deserved to be treated as such.

I was not thinking of this when I prepared my evidence for the Tribunal. It was about the cost of giving their parents the same rights to be funded as the paid carers. My conclusion was the cost was not large; the net cost to the Ministry was the costs of supplying the services which they were avoiding by loading them onto the parents for free. It is a little more complicated than that, and I should acknowledge that the costs may be larger if the principle is applied to other groups in similar situations. (Note the claim is already the practice of ACC.)

While the Tribunal was properly formal, some of the claimants were present, which gave the room an informal air. They reminded my of my adolescence, and of my Dad and those he looked after. And what that experience had taught me: that despite their handicaps these people were human beings like me, and deserved respect and decent treatment. So did their parents, struggling with caring for them; after all Dad was allowed home after a hard day.

I passionately accept that we should be publicly responsible for supporting these people, and I am glad that we are. I am appalled by the practice of discriminating against their parents. So I was delighted that the Human Rights Tribunal found that as a matter of law the state should not discriminate; as did the appeal tribunal and, more recently, the High Court. Yet. to my astonishment, the Crown is off to the Court of Appeal to get these three decisions reversed. Has it no compassion, has it no decency?

It may well be that there are points of law to be considered, but justice says that where the parent does exactly the same job as the paid carer then they should be paid the same. It’s as simple as that. Isnt it, Dad?

Debt and Equity in Nz’s International Investment Position.

I wrote this note to clarify some matters to myself; I shant be surprise if they become more prominent in 2011.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money; Statistics;

I have been looking at the International Investment Position focusing on the equity to debt ratio, in effect thinking about New Zealand’s external balance sheet as if it were a corporation.

In June 2010 the gross ratio was about 5 to 1 ($307b to $61b) the net ratio was about 18 to 1 ($155b to $8b).

It strikes me that these are rather high. One factor is that some of the debt is between related parties, as when an overseas company advances debt to its local subsidiary with relatively thin equity, often as a consequence of our (tax) laws.

Do overseas lenders (and credit rating agencies) care about this? I would think they are less concerned about equity owned offshore than debt owned offshore, even when the debt is between related parties. (Or do they believe in Modigliani-Miller?)

Suppose that is right. We can perhaps reduce (probably in a small way – but not at great expense) their concerns by the following actions in the private sector:

1. Separating out related party debt in the official measures;

2. Changing the (tax) laws to encourage equity-financing over debt-financing by overseas companies. (Some of the October changes apparently had this effect.)

Additionally, the public sector might change the external debt to equity ratio in its books by

3. Selling off some of its offshore equity in quasi-sovereign funds to reduce the public sector’s offshore debt. Some of the proceeds could be reinvested in New Zealand businesses.

4. Selling off some of its onshore equity to foreign investors.

Some of the later may not be particularly palatable. (It is a kind of privatisation.) However, they are responses to the consequences of past policy failures and an even more serious stomach churning possibility, if the international receivers get called in a la Greece, Iceland and Ireland.

I suspect that the screwed up external balance sheet indicates some severely screwed up internal balance sheets. In general the data is not available to identify and evaluate them.

Bring out Your Dead

Review of Crisis: One Central Bank Governor and the Global Financial Collapse Alan Bollard with Sarah Gaitanos (Auckland University Press, $29.99) in New Zealand Books: Summer 2010; p. 10.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money;

I examined carefully the Reserve Bank bill before parliament in 1988, to ensure that come a financial crisis the Reserve Bank would be able to act. The bill’s big idea was that the Bank’s task was to maintain price stability, implicitly downgrading the traditional primary role of a central bank to maintain order in money markets. Fortunately there was a provision hidden in the bill, so it was not necessary to raise the matter. Given how ideological the times were, parliament was headlong committed to monetarist ideology and may well have ignored it anyway.

Fortunately the RBNZ’s current governor, Alan Bollard, was no Alan Greenspan, the Chairman of the American Federal Reserve – the US equivalent – who thought that markets could police the financial institutions without government assistance, and who now admits he was mistaken. Bollard took the responsibilities for financial stability seriously enough to charge the deputy-governor, Grant Spencer, with them; for the first four years after his appointment considerable attention was given to planning for what was to Greenspan inconceivable – a meltdown of the financial system. And then one happened.

The public does not have a particularly coherent view of what the Reserve Bank does. Every two months it follows the Bank’s announcement about its expectations of inflation and adjustment – or non-adjustment – to the Official Cash Rate. How that works, how the Bank works, is hardly ever discussed. Instead journalists anticipate the announcement days ahead and triumphantly report it in a media frenzy. Because the journalists are ignorant of the technical details they dutifully report what economists in the trading banks say. The OCR matters a lot to their working and their employers’ profitability, so the event is given considerable public significance because the media’s advisers say it is important.

As a result, the media failed to chase up the big story after the September 2008 meltdown of the global financial system. How stable was our banking system? No doubt the trading bank economists were deeply worried – the Reserve Bank certainly was – but it was not a matter they wished journalists to pursue. Time and again when journalists had the opportunity to raise the matter, Governor Bollard was prepared to offer soothing assurances, but no one bothered to ask.

We know this from what in the annals of economics is an extraordinary book Crisis: One Central Bank Governor and the Global Financial Collapses, written by Bollard with assistance from Sarah Gaitanos, who helped Bollard to turn an oral history they recorded into a book. Sales indicate it is much valued by the public, not only because it is a damned good read, but because they want to know more than their day-to-day reading failed to tell them. The book is unusual because it is so honest, especially about recent events, including accounts of the Governor’s leisure life (which include 90 minutes in a dentist’s chair) and the headaches – literally migraines – the job generated. I doubt any other central banker has written such a transparent and accessible account of their job; such memoirs that are published, many years after the events. typically relate in obscure jargon.

No doubt the book will be poured over offshore, and be invaluable to such analysts as there are at home. Immediately after the collapse of South Canterbury Finance, I turned to nine juicy pages of how and why the retail guarantee deposit scheme was set up. Bollard is very explicit; he was uneasy about the scheme and in some key decisions politics over-ruled the technicians. But as he says it ‘stopped an incipient bank run’. Instead of issuing $15m of $100 notes that month they issued around $100m as depositors fled to cash; withdrawing their deposits puts a strain on the financial institutions’ balance sheets. There are a number of possibilities which would follow, all ‘horrible’ – as Bollard is wont to say; we dont know which, but it surely would have cost the economy more than the current taxpayer bail-out which is thought to cost (net) lerss than $600m.

(Although New Zealand’s Reserve Bank describes itself as a full service bank – almost the only one in the Western World – it was not then responsible for supervision of the finance houses, which were regulated more by Greenspan hopes than by pragmatism. Had the Reserve Bank been more involved, it may have designed the guarantee scheme differently. We know now that South Canterbury Finance was in deep trouble when the scheme was implemented, and that its BBB credit rating that the scheme required was an optimistic assessment by an international rating agency.)

I expect to reread the book when the tension between the Reserve Bank and the Australian owned trading banks reappears. It’s discreetly told in the book, the highlight (or lowlight) of which is the Australian Treasurer saying ‘You guys in New Zealand have to get real. If you want to be part of a single economic market with us you can forget having your own banking system. Remember, you sold your banks to us: you don’t own your financial system any more. Leave the regulation to us.’ Phew!

Another group of specialists who will use the book is the policy studies community, many of whom have little practical experience of how it really is. When teaching the subject I encouraged my students to read Harvey McQueen’s The Ninth Floor, which describes his life as an education adviser to David Lange. Crisis is an excellent addition to a limited literature.

Will the book be valued as a policy case study? Will journalists pour over it, trying to see how they could have served their readers better? I should like to think so, but I doubt it. What about economists? The academic economists ought to have been in there boots and all. There is a sense that my training as a macroeconomist was about the next financial crisis; if the dangers had not been so – well er – horrible, it was exhilarating watching the textbook story unfold before one eyes; Crisis adds practical detail. Yet there was not a single paper on the Global Financial Crisis presented at the last professional economists’ conference. With few exceptions – David Tripe, professor of Banking at Massey University, comes immediately to mind – the academics were either hedgehogs in the middle of the road hypnotised by the oncoming lights or snuffling in the underbrush unaware there was a road. (Some were spaced out on the marijuana of monetarism.)

This has serious implications for economic policy in the future. What is quite clear to all but the hedgehogs is that the way we thought about the economy over the past few decades was wrong – even Greenspan admits that. But what is to replace it?

I reread the book to see if there were any clues. Certainly there is an account of the devastated disbelief of those who had managed the international financial system according to the conventional wisdom. Since then they have introduce a range of ‘unorthodox’ policies which would have been inconceivable three years ago. But it is really alligator country – so up to your arse in them, you dont pay attention to the swamp.

The book makes some references to those who were dissenting before the crisis. It is part of the mantra of those in power and the journalists who report them that nobody saw it coming. In fact a number of economists predicted there would be a crash; what we could not do was predict when it would happen, what would trigger it, and the contingent events following the meltdown. Among that group are likely to be senior orthodox economists who can focus on the swamp. The explicit plural is deliberate. There may be one who will ultimately be named, but I doubt there will be another Keynes. Life is now too complex, while Keynes was uniquely placed, being both the editor of the economist’s top professional journal and in constant interaction with the British Treasury and Bank of England.

In any case, once his book came out – seven years after the crash – economists had to extend its theory to, among other things, cover inflation. In my case, with many others, I had to think carefully about how it applied to an open economy (with exports and imports) for Keynes was concerned about how the whole world could have a financial crash. Additionally, our trading banks function differently from the international ones which were at the centre of the meltdown. It is academic economists, those not dealing with alligators, who are better placed to explore the underlying theoretical issues. Sadly ours dont seem to have the interest. (In any case would we listen to them?)

This is not to say the new paradigm will be Keynesian, although no doubt it will draw upon his insights, and will be a lot less monetarist than the conventional wisdom of 2007. Monetarism is too simple to deal with anything as complicated as a financial crash – which is why the business community and journalists adopted it so enthusiastically.

Crisis is a book which many will not be able to put down, but the book is also one to be picked up again and again. We cannot be Keynes, regularly visiting the powerhouses of policy, but here are insights as how one works, beautifully captured in Alan Bollard’s authentic voice, so much so that sometimes the input of Sarah Gaitanos can be overlooked. No doubt there are central bankers who will regret the glimpses behind the curtain of their mysterious institutions, but the rest of us must be grateful for the insights.

The book finishes with the chilling image of the black plague, ‘The authorities could not understand what caused or spread the disease They tried to contain it …’. Bollard says ‘the crisis is gradually burning itself out’. But outbreaks of bubonic plague occurred for centuries. Bit like global financial crashes. Certainly the flow of announcements of financial institutions, productive businesses and jobs being terminated echoes ‘Bring out your dead’; Joseph Schumpter argued that crashes were to rid the economy of low productivity and misconceived businesses. There is an orthodox economic literature – Hyman Minsky is the current leader in fashion – which says meltdowns are inherent in capitalism. This book better places us to deal with the next one – but its virus may be more virulent.

Wine and Cheese

This was a think-piece which underpins the Listener column of December 11, 2010..

Keywords: Growth & Innovation; Political Economy & History;

This note is a chain of reasoning, rather than an essay or chapter with a conclusion. Although it may shed light on some contemporary issues discussed in the final paragraphs, the paper arose out of my work on the nineteenth and early twentieth century dairy industry.

THE THESIS

This scholarly interest in cheese began with the observation that we use multiple providers to export wine rather than the single dominant exporter as with dairy products. That seemed to make sense, because of the enormous variety of wines and the heavy branding that goes with them. On the other hand there are not a lot of varieties of butter (e.g. salted and unsalted, and ghee). I recalled De Gaulle’s remark that it was impossible to govern a country with 246 types of cheese, and quipped that more centralised New Zealand just made cheddar. That led me to wonder why historically New Zealand cheeses were dominated by cheddar varieties.

The first dairy production was on farms, mainly worked by Brits, as were the first dairy factories (even Chew Chong had a cheese-maker). So the tendency would have been to make the hard cheeses the British specialised in, of which cheddar is the most common. Initially the farmers would have made them in the style of the locality they came from. Apparently farm-made cheeses showed this diversity into the 1930s, when the practice fell away. W.T. Doig’s survey of dairy farmers in 1939 finds that none made cheese, although a few made on-farm butter.

How exactly cheddar began to dominate is unclear. Instructively Brett’s Colonialist’s Guide and Cyclopedia of Useful Knowledge devotes ten pages to cheese making on farm and in factory, focusing on the ‘cheddar system’. The book was published in 1883, so it is about the pre-refrigeration era.

There is an active scholarly interest in cookbooks, which reveals some trends in domestic use. Aside from a few standards such as McCheese – once somewhat more elaborate that today’s ‘Mother’s staple’ – and savoury cheese, there are very few references to cheese among the older recipes books. The impression is that cheese means cheddar, and as a rule it goes with bread.

Helen Leach writes that ‘in the second half of the 19th century it was fashionable to have a cheese course right at the end of the meal. Today this survives as cheese and biscuits but in Victorian times it could take the form of macaroni cheese, cheese soufflé, cheese straws, cheese rarebit and other hot dishes. This practice was replicated in formal NZ dinners through to the First World War at least.’

It would be wrong then, to assume that it was simply a matter of plain-old, same-old cheddar. I have a a 1927 report of the prize list for cheese at the National Dairy Show. whose categories include coloured, white, ‘full matured, any colour’, ‘made from non-pasteurised milk’, rimless and ‘four loaf . Clearly there quality differences in what was being produced too.

Exports seem to have been almost entirely cheddar, in part because it was very capable of travel and storage. That it was auctioned in Tooley St, London, required a standard commodity. Perhaps soft cheeses were not of interest because they do not last as long; in any case the milk-fat was being used for butter. Almost certainly though, the British heritage limited the interest in soft cheeses.

With the exception of ‘processed cheese’ – not only Chesdale but some cheese factories made it for local use – New Zealanders ate only cheddar up to the 1950s. A demand for other sorts of cheeses began to arise then, probably coming from soldiers returning after the war, immigrants (the Dutch are frequently mentioned), and the increasing numbers of New Zealanders who travelled overseas, all of whom would have met a wider range of cheese off-shore.

While various local cheese factories experimented, the supply-side seems to have started at the N.Z. Co-op Rennet factory in Eltham, which was founded in 1916. It was said to have New Zealand’s largest, best-equipped and most up-to- date commercial laboratories, and supplied ‘processed’ cheese to the American forces during the Second World War. I have not found documentation of exactly what happened but it developed ‘New Zealand Blue Vein’ based on the Danish blue cheese, and experimented with others.

Hugh Rennie tells of his father going to a meeting in Eltham in the late 1950s, returning to Whanganui with a tray of various New Zealand made cheeses. (He thinks it included blue vein, smoked, different cheddar styles, processed and something like gouda.) His mother, an above average home cook including judging cooking in the A&P shows of the region, found the range so novel she was not sure what to do with them. Till then cheese was cheese was cheddar.

The story of a Dutch immigrant, Peter Assink, illustrates how shallow the market was. He persuaded the Opouriao Dairy Company (near Whakatane), where he worked, to make passable camembert, brie and gruyere but, according to Gordon McLauchlan, sales were negligible even in Auckland in 1963, and when the company was merged the following year the project was abandoned (and Assink was laid off). Mercer Cheeses started in 1983 was again led by a Dutch couple (Alfred and Ineke Alfrink). It remains in production.

To stimulate the market, Renco (i.e. the co-operative rennet factory) published a cook book in 1963 entitled Junket Desserts and Fine Cheese  Recipes. (Cooking ingredient suppliers – such as Edmonds ‘Sure to Rise’ – had long published cookbooks to promote their products; another significant publishing source was voluntary groups for fund raising.) Its preface states ‘[t]he cheese recipes contained in this  booklet are presented with the object that you may become familiar  with the Eltham Galaxy of Fine Cheeses, use them more often, and by  trial and experiment quickly decide upon your favourite dishes.’ On  p.26 it provides a time-line of the companies involvement with new cheeses: 1952 N.Z. Blue Vein; 1959 N.Z. Gruyere; 1960 N.Z.  Havarti; 1960 N.Z. Danbo; 1961 N.Z. Fetta; 1962 N.Z. Samsoe; 1962 N.Z. Grana. (Not mentioned in the list, but among the recipes was Nuzano – possibly like a Parmesan.) The book also mentions other NZ co-operatives and proprietary companies  working on Continental cheeses: Gouda and Leidanz – Kaipara Dairy Co; Camembert, Brie & Gruyere – Opouriao Dairy  Co (mentioned above); Kominji Kaas – distributed by Van Raalte Chemicals Ltd., Dunedin;  Liptauer – [no produced named]; various cottage and cream cheeses;  various processed cheeses [several producers named].

In the late 1960s there was a deliberate decision to remove controls on imports of speciality cheeses, partly as a part of our free trade stance, but also to generate a domestic market for such cheeses, which ultimately locals would supply. (Pasteurised only; non-pasteurised were first allowed in in 2010.) By the 1970s, you could go to certain kinds of stores (I recall Hays, a department store, in Christchurch) which had a gourmet bar which included imported specialty cheeses. As the domestic demand for them rose, local suppliers moved into the market, and now supermarkets have their cheese bars – there may not be 246 types, but there are a lot; I counted over 100 in mine. There are also specialist delicatessens which stock specialist (often imported) cheeses.

Perhaps the key local supplier was Kapiti Cheese. Ross McCallum had grown up in the Taranaki, graduated with a Diploma in Dairy Technology from Massey University, and worked for Kiwi Dairy in South Taranaki, which produced bulk cheese for export. A 12-week fellowship to the United States and Europe exposed him to boutique cheese operations, and in 1980 he jointly founded Kapiti Cheeses, choosing to be based at Lindale because it was on a tourist route, and close to Wellington which was considered to have a more sophisticated palate because there were so many inhabitants with overseas experience. Today Kapiti produces over fifty specialist cheeses, many with distinctively New Zealand/Maori names. (McCallum sold his interests in 2003; it is now owned by Fonterra. He remains involved in cheese making through the Kaimai Cheeses venture.)

The purchase of Kapiti Cheeses by a much larger company (initially it was by Foodstuffs) is a typical pattern of successful start-up companies being limited for further expansion (often by financing requirements) and becoming subsidiaries of better placed large companies.

I have appended a note from Fonterra about their activities. The obvious markets of Europe and America are restricted by quotas, as the result of strongly protectionist sentiments. A consequential strategy, which Fonterra follow, is to sell ‘ingredient cheeses’, that which is allowed to manufacturers, who politically counter the local protectionists. Apparently the protection regimes are very specific in what is covered by a quota.

In any case, were a New Zealand producer of specialist cheeses to develop a market with a quota it would be at the expense of existing markets. Cheese appears to provide a nice example of the detriment of quota regimes.

New Zealand has open access to Australia, but it seems they have gone through a parallel development to New Zealand, and have their own boutique cheese suppliers. The specialty cheese trade seems to be two-way across the Tasman. (No bad thing.)

We can and do sell specialty cheeses in Asia, but it is a hard slog (it always is). There are markets for specialty cheeses among the affluent and expatriates in such countries, but New Zealand cheeses probably get squeezed by European and American suppliers with reputations we have yet to acquire (and find it difficult to, because of the quotas in the rich economies where reputations are made).

There are numerous other boutique cheese makers. Over 30 belong to the New Zealand Specialist Cheese Association. (I have little information on cheeses made on sheep, goat or buffalo milk. The only New Zealand manufacturer on Mozzarella like cheeses from buffalo milk may be the Clevedon Valley Buffalo Company near Auckland.)

Nevertheless we may wonder whether there is a the potential for, say, a billion dollars a year in speciality cheese exports, just as we already have in wine. The Fonterra note says, very correctly, ‘the closer we can get to the consumer the more value we create (for consumers and farmers alike)’.

Wider Issues

A longstanding complaint has been that too many of New Zealand exports are bulk, and not enough are niche high value products. That may be inevitable for butter, but what about cheese? Why dont we export more varieties, just as we export a variety of styles and brands of wines? Is it just the international quota arrangements; does the hard slog defeat potential specialist suppliers? Something else?

There is an interesting debate beginning to appear in New Zealand economic development policy. Nobody has articulated it well yet, so here goes (observing that while it is presented as a dichotomy, the answer is ‘both’).

One view is that in order to grow we need to imitate other rich countries, with their emphasis on industries based on science and innovation in urban centres (or, in our case, perhaps just Auckland). The critical notion is that our routine manufacturing and tradeable services cannot compete with poorer countries, so the rich countries have to look for more technologically advanced manufacturing options (often involving high quality standards). Behind this thesis is that we want urban growth – to be a more cosmopolitan country (although rural areas may not be as populated by the bumpkins they were seen to be half a century ago). There is also a need to review and elaborate the concern that a dependence upon natural resource (or commodity) exports leaves us exposed to the vagaries of the world economy that we experienced in the twentieth century.

(These arguments are very 1960s. While I dont know of any writings of Bill Sutch on cheese, I was delighted to learn from Helen Sutch that he welcomed New Zealand Blue Vein as an example of his development strategy of diversification and manufacturing in depth. Blue cheese became a standard item of fare in the Sutch-Smith household. Famously, in 1962 Sutch argued that the history of the New Zealand economy could be described by tracing the fish industry – sadly the lecture is recalled and is not available in hard-copy. The Maori dimension aside, there might be a similar story for cheese. (http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=191) )

The alternative strategy is around that the likelihood that the world demand for natural resources (of particular interest to New Zealand is food resources) is going to rise as industrial activity shifts to poorer countries who cannot supply the resources for themselves in adequate quantities. So the New Zealand economy should go back towards a specialisation in natural resources (recalling that while in the nineteenth century some countries lifted their economies by intensive manufacturing, others – New Zealand among them – attained similar standards of living by providing natural resources.

However, even if the terms of trade become more favourable, there are number of problems with this strategy, two of which are that bulk products (commodities) can be subject to volatile market prices  and are subject to protection with – as far as foodstuffs are concerned – export markets undercut by dumping. So the question becomes whether we can develop natural-resource-based products which are niche rather than bulk to avoid these weaknesses; Fonterra’s desire to get closer to consumers to add value for them and for their producers is so true. In effect we use the resource base favoured by the second strategy, to produce products favoured by the first. Hence this meditation on (wine and) cheese.

Finally, if de Gaulle argued that France’s ungovernability was illustrated by its variety of cheeses, does the increasing diversification of cheeses mean that New Zealand is becoming ungovernable? De Gaulle was talking about a regional heterogeneity, which does not so much apply to New Zealand. While we produce many specialist cheeses. the styles are not regionally based (also true for wine although regions try to brand themselves). One might however ponder whether the post-war diversification of life styles, which diversifying tastes for cheese (and wine) illustrate, suggests a rising social heterogeneity which MMP reflects and which is making the traditional form of centralised government in New Zealand increasingly difficult.

Among those to whom I am grateful for help in preparing this note are Elizabeth Caffin, Rick Christie, Patricia Fraser, Duncan Galletly, Diane and Ian Grant, Helen Leach, Ross McCallum, Gordon McLauchlan, Hugh Rennie, Nick Stride of Fonterra, Helen Sutch, and Dave Veart.

A note supplied by Fonterra

Historically, Fonterra has sold the majority of its quota cheese into these protected markets as ingredient cheese which is typically bound for the processing kettle. Technology advances are moving us closer to alternative product lines that will expand the application set that we can target, but overall the limitation towards ‘ingredient use’ as opposed to direct to retail will remain true.

The quota regimes are very prescriptive in what they will (and more importantly will not) allow. For example the Europeans operate one type of quota that is distinctly ‘Cheese for Processing’; this limits entirely the application set that Fonterra (and others) can sell our products into and therefore the returns we are able to achieve for those sales. However, in some markets such as the UK there is still good demand for the traditional table cheeses with retail Cheddar continuing to attract strong demand. Unfortunately access to this market is also limited and with strong competition from domestic (UK) and Irish producers total sales into the region remain static.

Developing markets such as China, the Middle East and parts of South East Asia continue to grow but application sets are once again weighted towards the processing end of the spectrum, with natural cheese typically used as ingredients in ‘White Cheese’ or ‘Jar Cheese’ due in part to the complexities of managing a chilled distribution network in these regions. Outside of the developing nations and traditional quota markets Fonterra’s focus has been on the Asia/Pacific and North Asia regions where we are able to add value to our products by tailoring a cheese to specific customer need or by moving our products closer to the end consumer. This is important as the closer we can get to the consumer the more value we create (for consumers and farmers alike) and the more carbon-efficient our products become.

Finest Cheddar, Made Better

Cheese as a metaphor for the New Zealand economy.

Listener: 11 December, 2010.

Keywords: Growth & Innovation; Political Economy & History;

Our first cheese was probably made shortly after Samuel Marsden brought cows to New Zealand. For most of the 19th century, cheese was made on farms for local supply. Before export refrigeration, which began in 1882, a little was sent overseas, mainly to Australia; some was sneaked across the equator in heavily insulated boxes.

Given the British heritage, it was almost all hard cheese – like cheddar – eaten mainly with bread. The cookbooks of the era have few recipes involving cheese, although the better-off had a cheese “savoury” or a cheeseboard towards the end of a main meal.

The cheddar tradition was reinforced by the British market, which took most of our cheese exports. Sold in bulk by auction in London’s Tooley St, the cheese had to be of a standard quality. Cheese-making shifted from farms to factories (although apparently some farm production continued into the 1930s). At first these were run by co-operatives and private enterprises, but the former eventually dominated. The first co-operatives were local farmers banding together to pool their on-farm production.

For most New Zealanders, cheese was cheddar, until well after the World War II. But the world was changing. Soldiers brought back memories of different cheeses they had eaten on the European continent, as did the occasional overseas travellers. Immigrants brought new traditions, too, especially the Dutch.

The first producer of speciality cheeses may have been the rennet factory in Eltham. (New Zealand blue vein was one of its earliest.) A Whanganui friend recalls his father bringing back a tray of them in the late 1950s, and his mother – a champion cook – not being sure what to do with the variety. When a Dutch immigrant persuaded his Whakatane factory to make some soft cheese, they found no market, not even in “sophisticated” Auckland of the early 1960s.

In the late 1960s, import controls were withdrawn on pasteurised cheeses to help create a domestic taste for them, with the expectation they would ultimately be supplied locally – a nice illustration of how interventions can inhibit innovation. Cheese bars featuring imports appeared in upmarket shops in the 1970s. Today supermarkets have them; I counted over 100 varieties in mine.

An important step was the founding in the 1980s of Kapiti Cheeses, which today makes more than 50 varieties of its own. It was established at Lindale, just north of Wellington on a tourist route and close to many people with overseas experience who had already met non-cheddar cheeses. Today we have over 30 specialist cheese-makers; some of the milk they use comes from buffalos, goats and sheep.

Cheese might be a metaphor for the New Zealand economy, developing from subsistence to commercial production and becoming a example of a bulk commodity export based on “processed grass”. Specialty cheeses nicely straddle the divide between those who think our future will be more dependent on farm-sector exports and those who think innovation is the way to go. We export over a billion dollars of wine a year – why not specialty cheeses?

Fonterra, which already exports over $1 billion a year of “ingredient cheese” bound for the processing kettle, says it would like to get closer to consumers, creating more value for them and New Zealand farmers. But overseas markets are usually protected to favour local producers, limiting imports to cheese for processing, and restricting their consumers from having access to our cheese. After 60 years of trade liberalisation, the dairy market remains one of the world’s worst protected disgraces. (Sugar is the other.)

Former French President Charles de Gaulle suggested it was impossible to govern a country that had 246 types of cheese; once a very centralised New Zealand just made cheddar. Does the increasing diversification of cheeses mean New Zealand is becoming ungovernable? Our cheese styles are not regionally based as in France, but we might ponder whether the postwar diversification of lifestyles, which the diversity of cheeses illustrates, suggests a rising social heterogeneity, which is making the traditional form of centralised government in New Zealand increasingly difficult. MMP is one response; the greater use of the market another.

Time for a New Strategy

The Zombienomics policies of the past few decades have not been working.

Listener: 27 November, 2010.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money;

Economic theories are going through a major revision in the wake of the global financial crisis. I doubt that the foundations, built over the past 200 years, will markedly change but their superstructure (the bit being publicly discussed) may radically alter – particularly the pieces created in the past few decades.

Of course, there will still be zombies who cling to failed theories despite the evidence to the contrary. Rogernomics policies were associated with a 15% fall in output compared with Australia between 1985 and 1994, but ideologists continue to promote them.

Where will the theories end up? Critically for New Zealand, they will apply differently in our small open multi-sectoral economy. Although we should closely follow the US economic debate, we need to adapt it to local circumstances. Our economic-policy framework has been evolving; even politicians have to respond to brutal reality, although they have not completely rid themselves of the zombies.

The Labour Party recently announced developments in its thinking, although much of what it proposes is concerned with equity and sustainability (to which any political party needs to pay attention) but will have little effect on economic growth and unemployment. Its “big” macro%economic announcement is a proposal to change the exchange-rate regime.

Zombies aside, one can hardly quarrel with the idea that our Reserve Bank’s legislation be more like Australia’s, which also has operational independence but with policy goals wider than just price s%tability. The Australian experience suggests there will be little practical difference. I favour the change, because it would free up the economic advisers to have a proper debate about what the Reserve Bank (and the Treasury) can and cannot do, without being limited by the legislation that the rogernomes imposed.

What about requiring the Reserve Bank to buy and sell foreign exchange to change the level of the exchange rate? The bank is already doing this to smooth out the market volatility, but it is not targeting any predetermined long-term exchange rate. Should it be?

The extreme would be fixing the exchange rate at some level (as happened before 1985). If there is a private shortage of foreign exchange, the bank supplies it. Since it cannot create US dollars, yen, euros, sterling or yuan, the Government has to borrow the currencies. The resulting debts accumulate, and when the New Zealand dollar is forced to devalue, the taxpayer makes a whopping loss. The advisers will modestly say they cannot predict the right medium-term level to avoid devaluations (and if they could they would make a killing as foreign-exchange dealers).

But macroeconomic policy can influence the medium-term exchange rate. The economy needs so much foreign exchange to pay for imports and to service debt. What it cannot borrow is supplied by export revenue. If borrowing goes up, exports get squeezed by reduced profitability. Since the exchange rate is the inverse of export profitability, it rises. Focusing on exchange-rate management is like treating a high body temperature as the problem rather than as a symptom. Ice may sometimes be required, but a proper treatment focuses on the cause of the temperature.

This is a static analysis. The dynamic version recognises that in the long term, any offshore borrowing requires exporting to cover future debt servicing, whereas in the short term it undermines the tradable sector, the ultimate driver of growth in a small open economy like ours. So a short-term borrowing boom is at the cost of long-term economic stagnation.

To avoid the stagnation, we have to provide more of our investment from our own savings. That means increased savings (and less borrowing for consumption), with more of the savings going into investment for exports and less into housing and property speculation.

Such a strategy requires more restraint and more – or perhaps a different kind of – government intervention compared with the slackness of the past three decades. That is where Zombienomics wins out. Its mantra of anything goes – and tax cuts are even better – provides a simple, easy to understand policy; it just doesn’t work.

Growing Pains

If we want to promote economic growth, we need a big rethink.

Listener: 13 November, 2010.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money;

The global financial crisis is not over; it just keeps morphing into new phases, without leaving the old ones entirely behind – and so the risk of financial institutions falling over remains. The world struggles with crises over government debt, because some countries have too much of it.

Turbulence may arise in the foreign exchange markets, as countries depreciate their currencies to encourage exporting. Except not every country can do this; we could end up with economic warfare between the great powers. New Zealand would be part of any collateral damage.

We have not yet reached the stage of businesses crashing as their cash flow diminishes. (And although we have assumed East Asia will continue to grow, it could stall – from political disruptions or poor economic management.) Every%thing is so uncertain we cannot accurately predict what will happen and when. The advice – to your household and to the Government – is be prudent and maintain a reserve for the unexpected. It may have to be used.

It is likely we will have a longer recession – with stagnant production and high unemployment – than many expected. There may be short bursts of growth %followed by offsetting downturns.

Two kinds of people promise high economic growth that never happens. Those in the first group have a political agenda – perhaps ineffective policies they want implemented. But the real danger is the second group: pseudo-forecasters with careless thoughts.

To think about it more carefully, consider where the expenditure that drives growth might come from. Its largest component is public and private consumption. The Government is insisting on restraining public expenditure, partly because it grew faster than incomes over the past decade and partly because of the need to be prudent. And there’s an ideological component: National is less committed to public spending than Labour.

But private spending also grew faster than incomes. We may be spending less of our income in an effort to reduce debt, reinforced by higher unemployment, lower real incomes and the savings wiped out by finance company crashes. It is difficult to see consumption pulling up New Zealand’s growth rate.

What about investment? The Government has a big infrastructure programme, but is not expected to increase it. New house building is in the doldrums. The post-earthquake reconstruction of Canterbury will provide a boost, but the Napier precedent was not enough to pull New Zealand out of the Great Depression.

Business investment? Most businesses are cautious about adding to capacity when the economy is stagnant. Technological innovation offers opportunities, but these usually involve expenditure switching – as we move to faster broadband we give up other spending – so some businesses will invest and others will contract. (Businesses running down or building up their stocks can cause a double-dipper contraction, but the effect is not significant through a long %recession.)

The economy gets boosted from any reduction in imports resulting from a switch to home production, but this is easier said than done. Which leaves exports.

If exports grow fast, they drag the rest of the economy along, too. Favourable primary export prices from strong sales in East Asia provide a boost, but many farmers will pay off their debt, so there will be only a little extra consumption and, hopefully, a bit of investment. Primary production takes time to expand, but we should not neglect it.

The immediate prospect is the secondary (manufacturing) and service sectors. Are there overseas markets for them? Sometimes, in Australia and East Asia. Is it profitable for them to sell there? A high exchange rate means low profitability. (If there is a rise in export profitability, we may first see a rise in investment in production for exports, including offshore market development – but don’t hold your breath.) Are we going to do anything about the exchange rate? We have not been very successful in the past. If we want to promote economic growth, we need a big rethink.

Not an optimistic prospect; at the heart of any success will be the export sector. If there are international exchange-rate wars, disruptions to export markets will make economic growth even more %difficult.

Indian Travelogue

This is just some notes. The point of the trip was to study India and write five ‘Listener’ columns. They are drafted and will be published from January to May 2011.

Keywords: Political Economy & History;

Saturday 6 – Monday 8: Flew into Chennai (Madras) from Singapore. You cant fly direct from New Zealand, bother it. To be frank Chennai is not a great city, despite being India’s fifth to largest (4.6m) and one of the four cities from which the British Raj administered India. We could easily have skipped, except I wanted to see the NZ (honorary) consul, who heads the automotive component manufacturer, the Rane Group – fascinating, because it embodies the best of the history of Indian manufacturing.

Visited a temple for Shiva and the basilica of (doubting) St Thomas – there being a theory he got to India – interesting how close they were.  (I had a number of discussions with Hindu guides, but never got my head around Hinduism. One guide explained the trimurti – Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva – stood for Generation, Operation and Destruction.)

Tuesday 9- Friday 12. An early morning train –  ugh –  to Bengaluru (Bangalore  – 5.4m) up 3000 feet in the middle of the Deccan Plateau A very pleasant city except a long way from the sea. Its trying hard to upgrade the environment – trees every where. Very envious of its Botanical Garden – in a similar style to Christchurch’s but bigger and even more gracious, with a gneiss (rock) some mind-blowing three billion years old. I started my history of New Zealand 650m years ago – India’s would be five times further back.  Also saw a temple to Shiva in which a natural rock had been shaped into a huge black bull, garland with marigolds.

About this time my gout flared; the spices (or possible lentils) afflicted me with the most acute episode I have ever had. I am mildly prone to it, and was carrying preventive doses. (The Delhi doctor I saw said that spices exacerbate most of the problems of age – arthritis, diabetes and rheumatism … ). To cut a long story short, I was still hobbling a fortnight later; I wont bore you with its constant nagging, but report only the high/low lights.

I had asked to visit a IT establishment. Blow me down, Total Holidays arranged for me to see one of the seven directors of Infosys, one of the most successful IT companies in the world. A vigorous discussion – among the books he gifted us was Sen’s The Argumentative Indian (I had been trying to get it in NZ), inscribed ‘many happy arguments’. Another great privilege. The 25,000 graduate campus I hobbled about was lovely. Vice-chancellors would kill for it.

Friday 12-Sunday 14. Plane to Kochi (Cochin 0.5m)in Kerala. (Clouds so couldnt see the Western Ghats, the remains of the scarp of the Decan Plateau – nor on the next flight. Kerala is mainly the coastal plane from the erosion, and the coastline is a mass of islands and estuaries). As a link in the trade between the spice Islands of Indonesia and the Middle East and Europe – it faces the Arabian Gulf – its food is famously spicy (ooch), and quite cosmopolitan – the Paradesi Synagogue is said to be the oldest in the Commonwealth, although sadly the congregation is dying off.  It is next to the ‘Dutch Palace’ (being restored and worth the visit) originally built by the Portuguese for the local ruler, and then upgraded by the Dutch who drove out the Portuguese (who, sadly, destroyed the original synagogue, which probably went back 2000 odd years). The new one’s location was to indicate the ruler’s protection, and his valuing of the Jews as traders.

We went to a traditional dance – Kathakali – and various historical sites, including Fort Cochin  which is close to the harbour. Our guide pointed out a rather pleasant beach and said its swimming  was only for Indians, and then twinkingly added ‘its too polluted for anyone else’.

An evening with Malcolm McKinnon who was living in the Ghats foothills was both pleasant and revealing, a nice reminder of the difference between the tourist passing through, and the insights from someone who can settle for even a few months.

Kochi roads are terrible.  There is a convention that potholes should not be deeper than cars, and generally it was maintained – the other convention that their area should be smaller than cars was not. (I am told they are particularly bad after the monsoon season.) Add the way Indians drive – virtually no lane discipline, distance very close,  and constant honking – and the great mix of vehicles of different capacities – tuktuks (motorised rickshaws), motorcyclists, bikes, handcarts, pedestrians even when there was a footpath, and underpowered  or overloaded trucks (probably both); no skateboards – the only reason there are not more accidents in the chaos is that top speed is about 20 kph. (We were rear-ended once. Driver and motorbike checked out the damage was not great, and drove on – the distance they caught up following the stop-over was a couple of metres.)

You end up with a nightmare; its been a long day and you are exhausted, in the late afternoon you drive from the last venue to the hotel, and it goes on and on and on, and on, and on  … The honking is not melodious. The shower was lukewarm, the bed often hard.

South of Kochi is the ‘Backwaters’ a vast estuarine complex which has been converted into lakes, canals and rice fields (some below the water level) with people living on the dykes. We chugged around for a day in a houseboat, sleeping in it overnight. Most people would have enjoyed the break, but I was not enthralled because of the gout.

Apparently New Zealand does not have a lot to do with Kerala because of its low industrialisation but – spices aside – it’s a great tourist destination, and as the column points out an even greater fascination for the social scientist.

Sunday 14-Wednesday 17. Fly to Delhi (12.5m)– the airport was to the north of Kochi another long drive since we started off well to the South – by Spice Jet (I kid you not). They opened the new domestic terminal that day and were totally unprepared. We must have been the last plane in at the far end. I hobbled totally alone through the empty corridors – everyone having gone before – another nightmarish adventure. Eventually reached the helpless desk – manned by four – and asked for a wheelchair. No help. Elizabeth had gone ahead to get the baggage (we had not appreciated how big the terminal would be) –  no trolleys, and noone had wheelchairs either. It took an hour to unload the bags. And then another long drive to the hotel. (We had a snack in the airport from a takeaway; ‘No spice!’ ‘No spice sir’. The chilli burnt my mouth.)

Taken around New and Old Delhi the following day. Pleasant and interesting enough – ND reminded me a bit of Canberra. I did not get out of the car to limit walking, so missed the temple and mosque which Elizabeth visited. Back at the hotel rang the High Commission and the very helpful consular officer organised an appointment at a local hospital and the taxi. Never met her, but am in love with her.

Hospital proved to be clean, open and helpful – and impressive; no waiting and we got the medicines from its pharmacy. Senior consultant was super – excellent English, and treated me like my GP. What happened is that I had been taking a regular maintenance dose, and it was not enough. He upped it, and gave me extra medication, although it took a week to come right. Pharmacy fine except they buggered around bit; all the medication was in drawers on display, including two sets of parallel columns which were labelled ‘looks the same’ and ‘sounds the same’.

As you probably know, any physical infirmity is immediately deemed to damage one’s brain (David Hill has a super teenage novel See Ya, Simon which illustrates this.) So the pharmacist gave the instructions for taking the medicine to Elizabeth because I was in a wheelchair and was obviously mentally handicapped by the gout.  (Elizabeth says she is not cut-out to be a nurse, but I must say I received the same tender care and concern which she gives to Pauline.)

Tuesday was arranged by the High Commission and went well with interviews with an ex-secretary of the Treasury, a feisty woman journalist from The Economic Times, and the HC itself – the building is modestly charming, on Ed Hillary St. You spend a valuable hour with each of them and it only appears as a paragraph in a column (albeit a valuable one). I hope they did not think it wasted their time.

My inflamed feet desperately needed a soak in warm water, but we only had a shower. Long negotiation to get a tray in which I could do a foot bath. They finally got it – ‘Yes, sir’ – and came back some time later with a bath mat.

Wednesday 17- Saturday 20. Fly to Kolkata (5.1m) in Bengal (from the old terminal – much more convenient). Overnight there – it looks a gracious city, quite unlike its reputation. (Poshest hotel we had, but only warm water for soaking the feet). The next day train to Shantiniketan. By now I had pretty well succumbed to the indignity of a permanent wheelchair – and indeed was revelling in the humour of it – sort of an elderly gentleman suffering a disease of affluence.

You will get a sense of the importance of Shantiniketan from the columns. It is the university of Rabindranath Tagore and Amartya Sen, but Tagore consciously put the campus in a village setting, so it (and the Backwaters) were a couple of occasions we saw something about what rural India was like – perhaps a little towards the affluent end. The village put on a dancing display for us, and coopted Elizabeth at one point – she proved notably taller than they were.

Saturday 20-Sunday 21. Back to Kolkata, thence to Singapore and Auckland. The last leg was not really up to Singapore Air’s reputation and complicated by the person I was sitting next to having a cough, which I caught. I came off the 737 in Wellington on a wheelchair, but the infirmity began to clear up away from the spice, and with the heavier anti-inflammatory.

Conclusion

There is much that could be added – even after supplementing this with the columns. I’ll just mention tipping, always stressful for a New Zealander. There was not as much begging as Elizabeth recalls when she first visited Delhi during the Emergency in the 1970s. Keynes famously remarked when refusing a beggar that he would not debase the currency; I take a similar stand. As far as those selling postcards and the like, I buy if I want. But when someone has done something for me … There is typically a ‘going rate’ – perhaps a few dollars – which seems well below a ‘fair rate’, and so I tend to over-tip, hoping that there would be a trickle down effect.

(I was amused that at the Kolkata airport the wheelchair pushers fought for the privilege of pushing me. In Wellington I was pushed off the airbridge, but as soon as we met the good Don Gilling, the pusher handed over and disappeared. The difference? Tipping.)

I would recommend ‘Total Holiday Options’ (anita@totalholidayoptions.com)  if you are going to India (I particularly appreciate the guide’s attention to my debilitation; all the drivers were good too.)  Note that they seem to subcontract by state – a decentralisation whereas the China equivalent (China Holidays – www.bookchinaonline.com/nz/– which I would also recommend) seemed  more centralised – fitting one’s prejudices about the way the two countries are run. Couple of changes: next time I would go for four star rather than three star hotels, and really try to avoid early morning starts – travelling to the station or terminal is another tiring hour at least.

Happy to add to the advice, if you get an urge to visit India*; would like to return in a few years to see how things have changed.

Brian.

* Prepared to connect with Indians via cricket. The Blackcaps did us proud while we there – the Indians liked my explanation that their team was so good, that we took a draw as a win. The team collapsed as soon as we left.

Flatter and Flatter

With the economy more sluggish than predicted, could we be in a long recession?

Listener: 30 October, 2010.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money;

That another long recession started in 2007 can’t be ruled out. In more than a third of the past 150 years, our economy – measured as gross domestic product per person – has been flat or falling for %periods of five or more years. Although most of these times of “stagnation” were in the first 100 years, two long recessions have occurred in the past 50 years: the 10 or so years that followed the wool-price crash in 1966, and the seven or so years of the Rogernomics recession from 1986.

Are we entering another one? When everyone decided in 2009 that a second Great Depression was not going to happen (after the international monetary authorities responded more intelligently this time), people tended to think things were back to normal and the economy would return to its growth path.

Little thought was given to the possibility that once the monetary stage of the crisis was over, the economy would stagnate over a long period as the country got its balance sheets in order. The notion that growth is the normal state of an economy has been so central to our thinking that the possibility of stagnation was hardly considered.

Yet history shows growth is not inevitable. There are parallels with the 17-year Long Depression of the 1880s and 1890s, precipitated by a banking crisis in the financial capital of the world – London – followed by a long sluggish world economy. New Zealand’s Long Depression had been preceded by the Sir Julius Vogel-inspired borrowing boom, which resulted in a lot of overvalued assets and consequential financial, farm and business collapses. One of the roles of long recessions is to squeeze out overvaluations.

My interest in economic history has moved on to the first part of the 20th century, when economic stagnation lasted for about 30 years: from the first decade of that century to the end of the Great Depression (followed by a very rapid recovery). Those who can think back only a decade or two may be unaware that economic growth is not guaranteed and that long periods of stagnation are real possibilities.

That we are in another long recession could explain the failures to predict the current state of the economy. The economy has been a lot more sluggish than the pundits predicted. Economic forecasting involves putting in a medium-term trend and fitting a business cycle around it. If the forecasters get the trend too high, their predictions about the short-term fluctuations will be wrong, too; so they keep expecting an upturn that never occurs.

A natural optimism makes it difficult to contemplate a long stagnation. Who would support a political party campaigning that the economy is going to be stagnant under its care, even if that is a realistic assessment? Better to claim to have a strategy to reach parity with Australia, even if this is more ideological than economically credible.

To think clearly about the economy, one has to stand back from such muddle-headed optimism. I can’t be sure what will happen, but we need at least to contemplate the possibility of another long recession.

After all, New Zealand output per head is about 3% below its peak of three years ago, and many commentators expect the world economy to be sluggish (little increase in real incomes with high unemployment) for up to a decade. (China is an exception.)

Or to put the issue the other way round, where do the growth optimists expect the sustainable expansion to come from? Economic growth is not some magic number; it is the consequence of myriads of production and expenditure decisions that affect the total output. That is what economists should be analysing and explaining.

Taking a more realistic approach – instead of borrow and hope (as we did in the past decade) or just hope (this decade) – is not only more sensible, but also provides the basis of a practical strategy, as I shall develop over the next few months. Unless others adopt a similar realism, public commentary will remain dominated by the current misleadingly optimistic confusion.

A Feudal Future?

The country is weighed down by a mountain of foreign debt and ownership.

Listener: 16 October, 2010.

Keywords: Macroeconomics & Money;

In the decade to March 2009, about $340 billion was invested in New Zealand. Of that, about $205 billion was spent on replacing old assets, leaving $135 billion for new ones. Whether this was sufficient for our growth aspirations belongs to another column. This one is about how the investment was financed.

Extraordinarily little was financed from New Zealand savings: in total about $42 billion in the 10 years (about $1000 per New Zealander each year). The remaining $93 billion, more that twice as much, was financed offshore, so about two-thirds of the new assets were financed by foreigners.

Some of that foreign finance would have been lent, so a New Zealander remains the owner of the assets with (probably) an increasingly heavy debt to offset it. However, it would be imprudent for the foreigners to advance only loans. Some of their investment will be equity in new businesses being set up in New Zealand, but some will also have gone on buying up New Zealand businesses and other assets such as land.

Of course, land is not a new asset but – in effect – New Zealand owners sell it to finance their new business investment or their consumption. If they are not saving, where else are they are going to get the money? In the 10 years, households’ net “dissavings” were $73 billion; that is, they consumed that much more than they earned. While some households saved – reducing their mortgage debt, or investing in retirement schemes or in new businesses – most spent more than their income, financed by credit cards, loans and running down their assets and finances. At an average rate of about $33 a week, it soon mounts up.

The obvious outcome is that the country is weighed down by a mountain of debt, not only loans owned overseas, but also widespread and growing foreign ownership of New Zealand businesses and resources. I estimate that more than a quarter of our assets are, in effect, owned offshore. That proportion is growing. Since the foreigners own the sharp end of the economy, their share of business ownership must be much higher.

If households dissaved $73 billion while New Zealanders saved (an inadequate) $42 billion, who were the savers? New Zealand-owned businesses saved $50 billion, so in total the private sector was still a net dissaver. The gap was made up by the public sector. Some $3 billion was saved by the local government sector, which would have used it to help finance the $12 billion of new local authority investment; the rest it borrowed. Meanwhile, the central government saved a whopping $63 billion. Given that its new fixed investment amounted to only $15 billion, the surplus went to reducing outstanding government debt, and into various crown investment funds (including the Cullen Fund).

Much of the public surplus was invested offshore; the convention is that investing too much in New Zealand business is wicked “socialism”, investing it offshore is good “capitalism” – again another column.

The end result of reducing the assets we own by borrowing heavily for consumption is to make us debt-slaves in our own land. But that’s what happens if you don’t save. We have been fortunate that the Government has been saving on our behalf, although evidently not enough. Recall the nonsensical calls of those who wanted to reduce government savings by tax cuts. Short term heroes; long-term tenants.

What is to be done? One approach is more tax cuts and a good party, leaving the feudal outcome to be cleaned up by future generations – the smarter will leave. Or we can start saving now.

The ideal would be to voluntarily reduce our spending below our income. If not, we are going to have to do it compulsorily if we want to avoid a feudal future. That could be by the Government increasing its savings, running a larger public surplus – and resisting the siren call of tax cuts. Or it could be by a compulsory occupational savings scheme. Or both.

Notes for a Panel Discussion on Fair Trade

Annual Conference of the Fair Trade Movement; 9 October 2010.

Keywords: Globalisation & Trade;

Economists have spent over two hundred years thinking about how markets work. They have concluded they are not fair but in general they are effective. You get a sense of this by looking at the growth of the world economy over the last two centuries– the era of globalisation – for trade has been a major factor in the transformation.

In that time, average output per head – measured in the conventional way – has risen about nine times. Of course a nine times increase in material consumption does not mean we are nine times happier, but there is no doubt that generally individuals are better off from the nine-fold increase.

However the increase has not been shared equally. Output per head in Western Europe is about fifteen times higher, while Africa – the poorest of continents  – has experienced only a three fold increase. Even so, not only are Africans better off on this measure, but today’s average African incomes are higher than Western Europe’s were two hundred years ago.

So one may conclude that as a general rule globalisation has made even the poor better off . There are numerous caveats to this conclusion, and it certainly does not mean that every year they are. Sometimes some have experienced long periods of stagnation on this measure. It seems likely that Chinese per capita incomes were lower in the 1960 than they were in 1810.

What we might conclude from this is that we should not be trying to stop globalisation; rather the aim has to be to harness it – to make it fairer, sharing its benefits more equally, and to restrict other harms that it causes (such as environmental degradation). The fair trade movement is trying to do this, particularly by enabling people to trade more ethically.

As commendable as this activity is, I want to suggest it is not enough. But I want to also warn you that many of the proposals to improve the fairness of the system, may blunt its effectiveness and sustainability; an apparently fairer intervention may not always make the poor better off. While that is not true for the narrow fair trade movement –  as far as I can tell – it is a warning to those with a wider agenda.

Two hundred years of economist thinking and experience has shown it is darned hard to design better economic systems.

Thinking About China (index)

This series of “Listener” columns were an occasional series that arose out of a trip funded by the 2009 NZIER-NBR Economist of the Year Award.

Keywords: Globalisation & Trade; Political Economy & History;

Engaging China: http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1220 (26 June 2010)

Will China Rule the World? http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1247 (24 July, 2010)

China or Bust: http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1257 (7 August, 2010)

The Bottom Line: http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1321 (4 September, 2010)

Ricenomics: http://www.eastonbh.ac.nz/?p=1362 (2 October, 2010)

Riceonomics

Lessons in how to use an economic surplus.

Listener: 2 October, 2010.

Keywords: Globalisation & Trade; Political Economy & History;

More than one tourist has asked how much it cost to build Beijing’s Forbidden City, a complex of 980 surviving buildings covering three-quarters of a hectare. Better to ignore the monetary cost and think about the resources for maintaining the workers. Each would have required a ration of rice.

The Yongle Emperor of the Ming Dynasty took 14 years to build the Forbidden City (from 1406 to 1420), allegedly using a million workers, although we don’t know how long each worked. Whatever – it still meant a lot of bowls of rice. So, where did the rice come from?

The short answer is it came from the peasantry. At that time, the population of China was nearly 100 million, most of whom would have been peasants. (Western Europe’s population would have been half that.) From about the time of the Hongwu Emperor, Yongle’s grandfather, there had been a major abundance of rice arising from renewed irrigation and improved varieties.

So the surplus – the rice above that needed for sustenance – was large. The emperor would have to capture only a small proportion of it to have much at his disposal. (This surplus enabled Yongle to build not only the Forbidden City but also his tomb outside Beijing. The tomb is impressive despite its walls having gone and the central mound remaining unexcavated – it is not overrun by tourists, and the forest setting makes it more peaceful than European equivalents.)

It’s easy to argue that seizing the surplus was exploitative, but some of it was used to maintain the river works at the heart of the Chinese economy, which boosted economic productivity – and hence the surplus. Levying the surplus (for example, through taxation) can make it go the other way, such as when it is used for warfare, which usually reduces economic productivity. The great monuments are often built during peacetime. What is one to do with the surplus if the army isn’t fighting? It can be used to build the Great Wall, in turn reducing military needs in the future.

Qin Shihuang unified China following the era of the warring states (475-221 BCE), declaring himself the first emperor. (The word “China” comes from “Qin”.) He built a precursor of the Great Wall, but he also had the “terracotta army”, about 8000 slightly larger than life statues, apparently to protect his tomb (which is also yet to be excavated). Each soldier is different; one wonders if they were constructed by Qin’s soldiers on standby, and whether they portrayed themselves, or perhaps their fathers, brothers and sons killed in battle. This is about the time of Hannibal of Carthage; I can’t think of any European monument of those times that so honoured the ordinary man of the realm. The Qin Dynasty was soon replaced by the Han Dynasty (most Chinese refer to themselves as Han). Sic transit gloria mundi, although the Qin has done better than Ozymandias.

Qin’s capital was Xi’an (about 1000km inland) at the end of the Silk Road from India to China. It was not only a trading route but a connection with the world, nicely captured in the fate of the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda, built by the Tang Emperor Gaozong in about 650 to honour his mother. Today it is a part of a Buddhist monastery that commemorates Xuanzang (c.602-664), the monk who spent 17 years in India before bringing back and translating the sacred texts, which were stored in the pagoda, thus founding Chinese Buddhism. Religion (including scholarship and contemplation) is another way to use up the surplus.

However, trade – which adds to the surplus – involves a more complicated economic model than the rice one I have just used (200 years ago English political economist David Ricardo used corn rather than rice – his later models were more complex). But the model remains useful to remind us of the central role of the economic surplus, including how it comes about, who shares it and what they do with it.

If one use of the surplus is investment, another is tourism.