Why the US must not abandon fiscal stimulus

The Senate’s stimulus bill would alleviate unemployment and speed progress towards economic recovery

"O Lord, grant me chastity and continence -- but not yet!" So reads an oft-quoted prayer from St Augustine's Confessions, a pithy reminder of the difficulty of reining in one's impulses in favour of a far-from-appealing sense of pious restraint.

Such a conflict between profligacy and austerity is certainly familiar not only to 4th-century Roman theologians grappling with religious conundrums, but also to economic policymakers in Great Britain, the United States, and indeed any country still struggling with macroeconomic policy targeted at recovering from the worst recession the world has seen in a generation.

The conflict over spending versus restraint, closely divided along partisan lines, is framing this week's debate before the Senate over a $127bn job stimulus bill, the American Jobs and Closing Tax Loopholes Act 2010.

Opponents of the bill point to recent hopeful indicators, such as an increase in wages (now 3.2 per cent higher than in December 2007 at the beginning of the economic downturn) and the addition of 431,000 jobs in the month of May, as signs that the economy may have turned the corner.

They argue that America is enjoying a strong enough recovery to allow policymakers to focus on "chastity and continence" in spending to address the nation's crippling budget deficit, projected to exceed $13trn for the first time in history. (The deficit comprises a whopping 89 per cent of GDP.)

Proponents of the bill, who range from Senate Democrats to think tanks such as the Economic Policy Institute to the editorial page of the New York Times, have united in a chorus of: "Not yet!" According to the bill's supporters, unemployment has remained too persistent -- and its effects too pernicious -- to shift attention and federal money away from job creation so soon.

Faster, faster . .

The stimulus bill includes $7bn in loan guarantees for small businesses, a $6.6bn research and development tax credit, $24bn in additional Medicaid funding, $1bn to create summer jobs for young people, and $2.6bn to extend the TANF emergency jobs fund, among other provisions. Most importantly, it extends unemployment compensation and a tax credit allowing jobless workers to continue their health insurance for 35 per cent of the original rate until the end of 2010, providing a gross $55bn in additional support for the jobless.

Approximately one-third of the bill's expenditures will be funded by increased taxation on high-income individuals and private equity earnings, while the remainder must be borrowed.

It is easy to understand why deficit hawks may be wary of this second iteration of the much larger February 2009 stimulus package. However, America's unemployed desperately need the American Jobs and Closing Tax Loopholes Act to pass; the bill would also smooth the road to recovery for the economy as a whole.

To begin with, even though US GDP has improved, growing at a 3.0 per cent annual rate in the first quarter of 2010, unemployment remains a severe problem. Although an additional 431,000 workers found employment in May, this is attributable mostly to temporary census hiring by the federal government, which accounted for 412,000 of those jobs.

The national unemployment rate remains an uninspiring 9.7 per cent, with 15 million jobless Americans looking for employment and as many as six jobseekers for every open position. Without outside stimulus, the prospect of returning to pre-recession employment prosperity is slim. For reference, in its current state, in order to return to the 5 per cent unemployment rate of December 2007, the economy would have to add more than 300,000 jobs a month for the next four years -- a growth rate faster than in any four-year period, faster even than in the job boom of the 1990s. It's bound to be a long, tough slog, even with government intervention.

Worse yet, these less-than-ideal numbers do not even capture the full extent of the unemployment challenge facing the nation. The unemployment figure does not account for earners forced to work part-time because they are unable to find full-time employment -- currently at 8.8 million, a meteoric rise from the December 2007 benchmark of 4.7 million. In addition, it only measures joblessness as a fraction of those actively seeking work, discounting figures for "discouraged workers", or people not looking for work because they have given up on finding employment, which have risen 291,000 on the previous year. Projections for the gross number of Americans who are unemployed, underemployed, or discouraged have reached a record high of 25 per cent.

And inequality widens

Economically speaking, this is quite bad enough. What senators ought to find even more worring are the social consequences: the staggering inequalities of US employment that the recession has unearthed and exacerbated. Compared with previous recessions, such as the dotcom bubble of the late 1990s, which primarily affected white-collar workers, the biggest losers in the Great Recession of 2007-2009 have most worked in less well-compensated jobs such as construction and auto manufacturing.

For example, as of May 2010, the unemployment rate among college graduates is a relatively sunny 4.7 per cent, compared to high school graduates' 10.6 per cent and high school dropouts' 15 per cent. Income inequality has always been a fact of America's economic landscape, but it typically narrows during a recession. In 2007-2008, it widened.

Another social danger of the current state of American unemployment is the unique threat posed by long-term unemployment, which hits the least-educated the hardest. The average joblessness duration has reached 31.2 weeks, the longest stretch since the Bureau of Labor Statistics started collecting data of this kind in 48 weeks.

Long-term unemployment is especially damaging for a nation's economy, because it removes the resources necessary for workers fully to develop their own -- or their children's -- financial and human capital, implicit in activities as schooling, skills training and investment, all necessary for starting a business. And with a 20 per cent unemployment rate for those under 25, many of whom don't qualify for unemployment insurance at all due to their limited work history, we risk alienating an entire generation of working-class youth.

The Senate's stimulus bill would alleviate some of the most crushing problems in US unemployment and also speed the road to economic recovery. Drawing on experience, the Congressional Budget Office has estimated that 1.4 million to 3.4 million workers who are currently employed would be jobless, were it not for the February 2009 jobs bill, but warns that the force of the previous stimulus has largely expired.

Not only would the bill provide a safety net to some of the most in-need workers, but extending unemployment insurance stimulates demand as well. The unemployed tend to spend money immediately to address pressing expenses such as groceries, health care and automobile/home payments, thus circulating money back into hard-hit local economies. In fact, on average, every $1bn of unemployment insurance money issued generates between $1.63bn and $2.15bn of additional GDP, due to this circulation factor.

The stock market may have bounced back and America's GDP growth looks fairly solid, but lingering unemployment is still the ball and chain dragging economic recovery back to earth. The staggering extent of unemployment, underemployment and reductions in the workforce has especially damaged the long-term prospects of America's least privileged, and exacerbated the social tensions created by income inequality.

It is imperative that the Senate continue to assist the US on its path to full recovery by passing the American Jobs and Closing Tax Loopholes Act, and by continuing its commitment to job creation and to alleviating the negative effects of unemployment.

O Lord, grant us fiscal austerity -- but not just yet.

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism