Singing Keynes' praises

Philip Booth reviews "Masters of Money".

Last night's BBC documentary Keynes in the Masters of Money series will be followed by two others on Hayek and Marx. The first programme was brilliantly presented by Stephanie Flanders, though perhaps it was too strong in its praise of its subject. The uncritical nature of the programme is not necessarily inappropriate as Stephanie Flanders made clear that she was presenting Keynes as a hugely important figure in post-1930s Britain, rather than as being correct on all matters of economics. Perhaps, by way of balance, Hayek will get the same enthusiastic treatment next Monday.

As a person, Keynes was portrayed by his supporters as a "we are all in this together" sort of a chap. Some might find this difficult to square with his support for eugenics. There is a temptation amongst those of a left-leaning persuasion to assume that those who want to use deliberate government intervention to avoid misery are necessarily more concerned for the plight of all the people than those of us who believe in freedom - this is by no means the case.

Similarly, there was much discussion of his supposed internationalism and his efforts to ensure that we had a world monetary order that enabled the weak to prosper alongside the strong. However, in 1933 Keynes said: "I sympathise, therefore, with those who would minimise, rather than with those who would maximise, economic entanglement between nations.[L]et goods be homespun whenever it is reasonably and conveniently possible. I am inclined to the belief that, after the transition is accomplished, a greater measure of national self-sufficiency and economic isolation between countries than existed in 1914 may tend to serve the cause of peace." This was not an isolated statement on such matters.

The issue of whether Keynes was right or wrong on the issues we today call "Keynesian" was skirted round. Apart from my own brief appearances, and criticisms from Kenneth Rogoff and some pertinent comments from David Laws, commentators had few reservations.

Let's take first the issue of the Great Depression. Britain was out of depression long before General Theory was published. Indeed, by 1936, output had almost would soon recover to the point which it would have reached had we seen trend growth from 1929. Britain did so with very tight fiscal policy. Monetary policy was very loose, of course, after coming off gold. But, this is precisely the policy that Keynes said would not work. It was used. It worked.

The US, on the other hand, had her Hoover dams and other major Keynesian projects. They were described in the programme as having created thousands of jobs. Perhaps they did. The point about Keynesian economics is that it is not very good at probing into both the "seen" and the "unseen". Economists should not generalise from the particular. Certainly, in terms of its effects on the economy as a whole, US policy in the Great Depression was an abject failure. Indeed, as Stephanie Flanders said, the US was not out of depression at the outbreak of war. In other words, there were 17 years between 1929 and sustained peacetime growth. Why was this? Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that, even if stimulus policies work in theory (doubtful in itself), they do not work in practice once put in the hands of politicians. Maybe the policy uncertainty created by giving government greater powers keeps those animal spirits low.

Arguably the worst prediction of the night came from Joseph Stiglitz. He said - presumably in March when other interviews were filmed - that we know what will almost certainly happen if the government does not borrow more money: "unemployment will go up." Unemployment has fallen every month since. We have a growth problem but, surely, if Keynes' economics of recession is about anything, it is about rigidities in labour markets rather than the enhancement of productivity necessary for growth. But, prediction is not Stiglitz's strong point. In a co-authored paper with one of President Obama's later Chief Economic Advisors, he said when commenting on the introduction of a new capital standard in 2002: "on the basis of historical experience, the risk to the government from a potential default on GSE [Fannie Mae and Freddia Mac] debt is effectively zero."

Would Keynes be on Stiglitz's side today? Who knows? And this was one issue on which Stephanie Flanders was deliberately equivocal. It is widely thought that Hayek did not review General Theory because he believed that Keynes would change his mind about the issues - as he did with Treatise on Money. Certainly, there is no reason to think that he would have proposed what came to be called Keynesian policies in countries already borrowing eight per cent of national income, where the government is spending 50 per cent of national income, where unemployment is falling and where real wages seem to be adjusting.

The role of money in creating the Great Depression was not mentioned in the programme - despite the widespread consensus on this issue. The cause was animal spirits, pure and simple. The same cause was cited for the crash of 2008. Indeed, it was even argued that before the crash politicians had been preaching (and it was implied practising) uncritically the doctrine of free markets only to be derailed by animal spirits. No mention of monetary policy and the "Greenspan put". No mention of too big to fail. No mention of Fannie and Freddie or Basel II. No mention of US bankruptcy law. No mention of the policy of encouraging home ownership amongst those who could not afford it. No mention of US deposit insurance which never had the risk-based premiums that were supposed to be levied. No mention of government spending accelerating in countries such as the UK, US, Portugal, Spain and so on. Hopefully, these causes will be presented in next week's programme. A government that follows the above policies and spends nearly twice as much as a proportion of national income as even Keynes thought desirable is not practising a free-market policy.

In a long feature on the euro crisis, it was suggested by the greatest weight of voices that Keynes would today have been warning against strong countries imposing austerity on the weak through government spending cuts and thus causing the violent protests. In fact, although he may well have recommended debt forgiveness, it is certainly not clear what Keynes might have thought on the issue of reducing government spending in countries where it has reached unsustainable levels.

We were also told that our international economic relationships would have been transformed if we had followed his advice and had a fixed exchange rate system where both surplus and deficit countries made adjustments. This may or may not be true, but surely Keynes would have pointed his finger at the deficit countries when Bretton Woods collapsed in the early 1970s, the seeds of which were sown a few years earlier. The problem then was not German deflation (inflation was low but positive) but US and UK inflation (the former caused by government spending on welfare and the Vietnam War, the latter by general indiscipline).

Indeed, famously, when the facts changed, Keynes changed his mind. Perhaps he would have learned to like floating exchange rates, which lead to the beggar-my-neighbour policies the programme criticised becoming an irrelevance. Perhaps Keynes would have seen floating exchange rates and the free movement of capital as the best way to facilitate economic adjustments between very different countries suffering from asymmetric shocks (though not to provide an excuse for endemic inflation).

Stephanie Flanders ended with a paradox. This man who believed in animal spirits and the unpredictability of human nature also believed in governments steering the economy. Next week, perhaps, we will hear that this is not just a paradox, but a contradiction. Perhaps we will hear too that, when people take responsibility for their own financial recklessness and respond to the diverse signals that they see in market prices, the economy can self-correct much more effectively than it can ever be steered by intelligent people in Whitehall - and recessions will be that much shorter.

Philip Booth is Editorial and Programme Director at the Institute of Economic Affairs

Keynes. Photograph: Getty Images

Philip Booth is Editorial and Programme Director at the Institute of Economic Affairs.

 

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Why Philip Green's fall should bring down the honours system – but won't

Sir Shifty may fall in disgrace, but our ridiculous system will endure. No matter what's happening in the rest of politics.

Sir Philip Green’s Efficiency Review (2010) is his Das Kapital and it is still, happily, online. You can, if you wish, smirk at his recommendations to the government, which were solicited by David Cameron, I imagine, because when he stood next to Green he looked not like a 17th-century woodcut but like a tall, handsome semi-aristocrat.

“There is no motivation to save money or to treat cash ‘as your own’,” Green grumbles, before complaining, “There are inconsistent commercial skills across departments.” I am weeping with laughter at the whole report. But I’m not one of those BHS employees watching their pension ­vanish as the hideous cushions, throws and bedspreads pile up on the Green family yacht Lionheart. I instantly rename the yacht 14-Day Return Policy No More.

The days when Green could write efficiency reviews for people to ignore are gone. It is said that he could lose his knighthood, because that would be exciting and pointless. If so, I hope the ceremony features the formal rending of a garment from the BHS sale bin – perhaps a torn sock will be flung at his head? The Queen will not be happy, because de-knighting makes the ancient system of patronage look as ridiculous as it really is. Do intercessors between man and God make mistakes? Would they raise a man the Daily Mail now calls “Sir Shifty”? (I checked whether there was a Sir Shifty among the knights of the Round Table who flogged the Holy Grail to a passing tinker. There was not.)

Lord Melbourne advised Queen Victoria not to attempt to make her husband, Albert, a king, for if the people knew that they could make kings, they might unmake them. Green will discover this in his tiny way. But the elites should not hide their baubles. One fallen knight will not destroy the system (and I cannot think that Green will take £571m from his Lionheart cushion budget to save his knighthood by replenishing the BHS pension fund, because a knighthood is, in essence, just a tiny Bentley Continental that you wear over your nipple). One fallen knight should destroy the system but it won’t, because human conceit and docility are without end. Green will be shunned. Nothing will change.

One might have hoped that the Brexit vote would have alerted Cameron to the abyss between the electorate and the elected. (Even Alastair Campbell, chomping against Brexit, seemed to forget that he was as complicit in the alienation of voters as anyone else: government by sofa, teeth and war.) The response was glib, even for Cameron, a man so glib that I sometimes think he is a reflection in a pond. Brexit hit him like someone caught in a mild shower without an umbrella. He hummed at the lesson that history dealt him; he hummed as he left his page. It was the hum of the alpha Etonian caught out in a mistake, yes, but it was still a bloody hum.

His next act was to increase pay-offs to favoured courtiers against civil service advice and at public expense; then, it was reported, he nominated his spin doctor Craig Oliver and his former spin doctor Gabby Bertin for peerages, because the upper house needs more PRs. He has learned nothing. I wish him a relaxed retirement in which he will, apparently, write his four-page memoir, David Cameron: My Struggle (sub-subtitle: Eton Mess?). I hope he does not attempt to deny “the prosciutto affair”, because there is no need. It was not true. It was too pure a metaphor.

So the honours system, an essential part of our alienating politics, alongside dodgy donors, duck houses and George Galloway, endures in its worst form as conventional politics fails. It is a donkey sanctuary for political friends and Bruce Forsyth. I am not suggesting that everyone who has been honoured is dreadful – some lollipop ladies deserve to be patronised with an OBE (when there is no E any more), I am sure, and the lords, some of whom are excellent, are the functional opposition now – but the system can no longer be defended by the mirth potential of watching politicians ponder what light-entertainment celebrities might swing a marginal before being posthumously accused of rape. We must find something better before the house burns down. Perhaps a robust parliamentary democracy?

The problem is best expressed by the existence of a specialist consultancy called Awards Intelligence, which engages in “VIP brand-building” by soliciting awards. It sells “awards plans” from £795, which I could well imagine Philip Green perusing as he bobs about aboard Lionheart, were it not too late. The Awards Intelligence website tells us so much, though obliviously, about the narcissism of modern politics that I am tempted to reproduce it in full. But I will merely report that it asks:

"Did you know that you can join the House of Lords on a part-time basis as an Independent Crossbench Peer or a political peer affiliated to one of the main politial parties – even if you have ongoing work, family or community commitments!"

The message from Awards Intelligence, which boasts of a 50 per cent success rate, is clear: the legislature is part-time, it exists to “instil trust, add credibility and provide a platform for you to have your say” – and it can’t always spell “political”.

Sir Shifty and Awards Intelligence do not constitute the worst crisis in the history of honours, dreadful though they are. During the First World War the royal German cousins were stripped of their garters, so that British soldiers would not have to kill men of higher rank. But it is time for the Queen to stop pinning toys on nipples. They are part of a political system sweeping us, swiftly, towards the night.

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue