Time to complicate things

If we stop trying to simplify our economic models, we can improve policy.

According to the increasingly influential school of complexity economics, decisions that at the "micro" level might seem rational, when they become manifest at the "macro" level produce outcomes that are detrimental to all. Several "rights" often combine to produce a "wrong". This can help to explain problems like why there is such an unequal distribution of wealth in many developed economies and why some regions remain depressed for long periods of time.

Neo-classical economics finds it difficult to account for such emergent problems because it is based on a framework of simple, bilateral exchanges between individuals (people and firms). It is forced to regard economy-wide problems as the result of some external disruption to the normal running of free bilateral exchange. As a result, it has failed to develop an adequate theory that makes a connection between individual decisions and developments in the aggregate economy.  

The new fields of complexity theory and network theory help us to understand the economy as a dynamic network, rather than as the static model of bilateral exchange, which underlies orthodox economics. With this new understanding, we can start to develop policy options that might respond more effectively to problems like inequality of wealth.  

Although the school of complexity economics and the idea of emergent phenomena are relatively new, the recognition of system-wide economic problems is clearly not. But, for a long time, most economic thinking has held that many of our fundamental challenges, such as inequality and climate issues, are the result of market failures and can only be solved by using the power of the state to correct any such failures.  

A complexity perspective suggests the state’s top-down bureaucracy cannot, as it currently operates, offer effective and sustainable solutions to emergent economic problems. The state's policy-making incorporates the idea that society acts like a machine that responds automatically to a stimulus (such as a tax cut) in the same way each time, in large part because mainstream economics has taken a very narrow view of human nature and interaction. This has been explored most recently by Paul Ormerod in his book, Positive Linking.

Complexity theory is based on the core observation that social systems are dynamic, evolving networks in which individual and collective behaviour can shift and change rapidly and unexpectedly. The fluidity of this system means attempts to control an economy by gathering data, making forecasts and developing policy will always be subject to a high risk of failure. Mechanistic approaches to policy can be extremely problematic, for at least four broad reasons:  

  1. Idiosyncrasies matter and it is a near impossibility for a centrally determined policy to remain sensitive to local circumstances.
  2. Remotely set targets can be inaccurate proxies for real aims.
  3. Network effects can drown out the very incentives that form the core of most policy responses.
  4. Incentives are often set as if people were selfish maximisers of their own utility - but this is very often untrue.  

The neoclassical approach is comforting in the sense it implies that following simple, easy to devise, mechanical policy rules can solve some problems. But it is misleading because the economy does not work in the way it suggests, which often leads to inappropriate policy ideas. With the complexity approach things are, roughly speaking, the other way around. It suggests policy responses to certain problems will be hard to draw up, and the right answer might be found only after experimentation, simulation, and pilot studies. But the policy formed as a result is more likely to be suited to the policy challenge.  

The new fields of complexity and network theory advocate building up an understanding of the real world from the ground up. In doing so, they paint a picture of the real world that is much more recognisable than the abstractions of neoclassical economics. As such, they have the potential to offer new approaches to seemingly intractable policy problems, and, because these approaches are inherently apolitical, they ought to be of interest to all political parties.

This is an edited extract of a chapter from IPPR’s forthcoming book, Complex New World: translating new economic thinking into public policy. For more see here.

A bifurcation diagram showing a common representation of chaos theory. Photograph: Wikimedia Commons

Adam Lent is the Director of Programmes at the RSA. Greg Fisher is the Managing Director of Synthesis.

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The Brexit deal and all the other things Liam Fox finds “easiest in human history”

The international trade secretary is an experienced man. 

On the day of a report warning a no deal Brexit could result in prices rises, blocked ports and legal chaos, international trade secretary Liam Fox emerged to reassure the nation. 

He told BBC Radio 4: "If you think about it, the free trade agreement that we will have to come to with the European Union should be one of the easiest in human history.” 

Since his colleague, Brexit secretary David Davis, described Brexit negotiations as more complicated than the moon landings, this suggests we are truly lucky in the calibre of our top negotiating team. 

Just for clarification, here is the full Davis-Fox definition of easy:

Super easy: Tudor divorce

All Henry VIII had to do was break away from the Catholic Church, kickstart the Reformation, fuel religious wars in Europe, and he was married to his second wife. And his third, fourth, fifth and sixth. Plus the Henry VIII clauses are really handy for bypassing parliament in 2017.

Easy: Tea Act 1773

American colonialists were buying smuggled tea, when they could have bought East India tea instead. Luckily, the British Prime Minister Lord North, found a way to deal with the problem in a single bill. Sorted.

Bit tricky: Appeasement

So what if Neville Chamberlain had never been on an airplane before? It's hardly a moon landing. And he got peace in our time. Although he was forced to resign in 1940. Not quite as easy as he thought. 

Julia Rampen is the digital news editor of the New Statesman (previously editor of The Staggers, The New Statesman's online rolling politics blog). She has also been deputy editor at Mirror Money Online and has worked as a financial journalist for several trade magazines. 

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