Global warming and externalities

How a carbon tax can "solve" global warming

Tim Worstall (yes, when he's not trolling he's quite good) has a piece up at the Telegraph explaining how carbon taxes work, and why they could "solve" global warming:

In economic theory, the problem here is that my actions that create emissions also damage someone else. But I don't have to pay for the damage I've caused. This is called an externality and the economists' solution is something called a Pigou Tax. That is, we add a tax equal to the damage I'm doing, so that I do pay for that damage.

Worstall cites the Stern Review's figure of $80 per tonne of CO2 as a good starting ground for where to set a carbon tax, and explains why it's the most efficient way to deal with climate change:

As a made-up example: my car emits one tonne CO2 when I drive it to buy fresh bread for lunch. That's $80 of damage I cause in the future by doing so. But the benefit to me is trivial: if you paid me 50p (alright, £5 in the rain) I'd cycle instead and not emit the CO2. The value to me of driving is that 50p; the costs to someone else are the $80. Clearly, this is a bad deal for everyone else: they're bearing costs much greater than the benefit to anyone at all. An $80 a tonne tax would get me cycling and that would be a good thing: I've stopped doing something where the benefit is lower than the cost.

However, we've a pregnant woman in pre-eclampsia. She needs to go to hospital in an ambulance which is going to emit that tonne, that $80 worth of CO2. Without it she and the child will be dead; with it they'll be fine. We usually value a statistical life in the £2 – 3 million range. That's what the railways will spend on safety to save a life on average. Or we could use the £50,000 that NICE applies to one year of good-quality life. If your drug treatment costs more than this, then you won't get it on the NHS; less and you might. Different numbers but much the same outcome: burn that fuel and damn the $80 of future damages, because they're much lower than the benefits that are achieved right now from burning that fuel.

This efficiency is why a carbon tax – or the harder to impose, but fairer and economically identical "cap-and-trade" system – really is the best way to deal with global warming. By definition, it deals with "bad" emissions while allowing "good" ones, and it does so far better than a legislature could ever hope to with a sprawling network of tariffs and subsidies.

But Worstall does somewhat overstate the case in one area, when he writes:

The other part [of a reader's question] – what's the point if we're not going to spend the money on green projects? – misunderstands the purpose of the tax. We're not trying to raise money: we're trying to change prices.

Changing prices is only half the effect of a carbon tax – or any Pigou tax. The other half is compensating the "victim" for their loss.

Suppose we live in a little two person economy where every tonne of CO2 you produce causes $80 worth of flooding damage to me. Imposing a carbon tax solves half the problem, in that it stops you polluting if you only get $10 benefit from it. But it doesn't solve what happens if you can make $100 from polluting.

In that case, you pay $80, and make $20 profit. I'm still left with $80 of flooding damage. The proper use of the money raised is to compensate the me for that loss. Otherwise, a tax which merely sorts out externalities becomes a revenue-raising tool of Government. In practice, this means that money raised from a carbon tax should be used on "green projects".

Which would annoy Worstall's fellow Telegraph blogger James Delingpole.

Anti-carbon tax protestors in Australia. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Trade unions must change or face permanent decline

Union membership will fall below one in five employees by 2030 unless current trends are reversed. 

The future should be full of potential for trade unions. Four in five people in Great Britain think that trade unions are “essential” to protect workers’ interests. Public concerns about low pay have soared to record levels over recent years. And, after almost disappearing from view, there is now a resurgent debate about the quality and dignity of work in today’s Britain.

Yet, as things stand, none of these currents are likely to reverse long-term decline. Membership has fallen by almost half since the late 1970s and at the same time the number of people in work has risen by a quarter. Unions are heavily skewed towards the public sector, older workers and middle-to-high earners. Overall, membership is now just under 25 per cent of all employees, however in the private sector it falls to 14 per cent nationally and 10 per cent in London. Less than 1 in 10 of the lowest paid are members. Across large swathes of our economy unions are near invisible.

The reasons are complex and deep-rooted — sweeping industrial change, anti-union legislation, shifts in social attitudes and the rise of precarious work to name a few — but the upshot is plain to see. Looking at the past 15 years, membership has fallen from 30 per cent in 2000 to 25 per cent in 2015. As the TUC have said, we are now into a 2nd generation of “never members”, millions of young people are entering the jobs market without even a passing thought about joining a union. Above all, demographics are taking their toll: baby boomers are retiring; millennials aren’t signing up.

This is a structural problem for the union movement because if fewer young workers join then it’s a rock-solid bet that fewer of their peers will sign-up in later life — setting in train a further wave of decline in membership figures in the decades ahead. As older workers, who came of age in the 1970s when trade unions were at their most dominant, retire and are replaced with fewer newcomers, union membership will fall. The question is: by how much?

The chart below sets out our analysis of trends in membership over the 20 years for which detailed membership data is available (the thick lines) and a fifteen year projection period (the dotted lines). The filled-in dots show where membership is today and the white-filled dots show our projection for 2030. Those born in the 1950s were the last cohort to see similar membership rates to their predecessors.

 

Our projections (the white-filled dots) are based on the assumption that changes in membership in the coming years simply track the path that previous cohorts took at the same age. For example, the cohort born in the late 1980s saw a 50 per cent increase in union membership as they moved from their early to late twenties. We have assumed that the same percentage increase in membership will occur over the coming decade among those born in the late 1990s.

This may turn out to be a highly optimistic assumption. Further fragmentation in the nature of work or prolonged austerity, for example, could curtail the familiar big rise in membership rates as people pass through their twenties. Against this, it could be argued that a greater proportion of young people spending longer in education might simply be delaying the age at which union membership rises, resulting in sharper growth among those in their late twenties in the future. However, to date this simply hasn’t happened. Membership rates for those in their late twenties have fallen steadily: they stand at 19 per cent among today’s 26–30 year olds compared to 23 per cent a decade ago, and 29 per cent two decades ago.

All told our overall projection is that just under 20 per cent of employees will be in a union by 2030. Think of this as a rough indication of where the union movement will be in 15 years’ time if history repeats itself. To be clear, this doesn’t signify union membership suddenly going over a cliff; it just points to steady, continual decline. If accurate, it would mean that by 2030 the share of trade unionists would have fallen by a third since the turn of the century.

Let’s hope that this outlook brings home the urgency of acting to address this generational challenge. It should spark far-reaching debate about what the next chapter of pro-worker organisation should look like. Some of this thinking is starting to happen inside our own union movement. But it needs to come from outside of the union world too: there is likely to be a need for a more diverse set of institutions experimenting with new ways of supporting those in exposed parts of the workforce. There’s no shortage of examples from the US — a country whose union movement faces an even more acute challenge than ours — of how to innovate on behalf of workers.

It’s not written in the stars that these gloomy projections will come to pass. They are there to be acted on. But if the voices of union conservatism prevail — and the offer to millennials is more of the same — no-one should be at all surprised about where this ends up.

This post originally appeared on Gavin Kelly's blog