reflects an a priori commitment to laissez-faire

TO BE NOTED: From John Quiggan:

"Austrian Business Cycle Theory

By jquiggin | May 3, 2009

I’ve long promised a post on Austrian Business Cycle Theory, and here it is. For those who would rather get straight to the conclusion, it’s one I share in broad terms with most of the mainstream economists who’ve looked at the theory, from Tyler Cowen, Bryan Caplan and Gordon Tullock at the libertarian/Chicago end of the spectrum to Keynesians like Paul Krugman and Brad DeLong.

To sum up, although the Austrian School was at the forefront of business cycle theory in the 1920s, it hasn’t developed in any positive way since then. The central idea of the credit cycle is an important one, particularly as it applies to the business cycle in the presence of a largely unregulated financial system. But the Austrians balked at the interventionist implications of their own position, and failed to engage seriously with Keynesian ideas.

The result (like orthodox Marxism) is a research program that was active and progressive a century or so ago but has now become an ossified dogma. Like all such dogmatic orthodoxies, it provides believers with the illusion of a complete explanation but cease to respond in a progressive way to empirical violations of its predictions or to theoretical objections. To the extent that anything positive remains, it is likely to be developed by non-Austrians such as the post-Keynesian followers of Hyman Minsky.

First, some history and data. Austrian Business Cycle Theory was developed in the first quarter of the 20th century, mostly by Mises and Hayek, with some later contributions by Schumpeter. The data Mises and Hayek had to work on was that of that of the business cycle that emerged with industrial capitalism at the beginning of the 19th century and continued with varying amplitude throughout that century. In particular, it’s important to note that the business cycle they tried to explain predated both central banking in the modern sense of the term and the 20th century growth of the state. The case of the US is of particular interest since the business cycle coincided with a wide range of monetary and banking systems: from national bank to free banking, and including a gold standard, bimetallism and non-convertible paper money.

This NBER data goes back to 1857, but there was nothing new about the business cycle then (Marx, for example, had been writing about it for a decade or more). The US experienced serious “panics”, as they were then called in 1796-97, 1819 and 1837 [1] as well as milder fluctuations associated with the British crises of the 1820s and 1840s.

The typical crisis of the 19th century, like the current crisis, began with bank failures caused by the sudden burst of a speculative boom and then spread to the real economy, with the contraction phase typically lasting from one to five years. By contrast, recessions since 1945 have generally lasted less than a year, and have mostly been produced by real shocks or by contractionary monetary and fiscal policy.

According to the theory, the business cycle unfolds in the following way. The money supply expands either because of an inflow of gold, printing of fiat money or financial innovations that increase the ratio of the effective money supply to the monetary base. The result is lower interest rates. Low interest rates tend to stimulate borrowing from the banking system. This in turn leads to an unsustainable boom during which the artificially stimulated borrowing seeks out diminishing investment opportunities. This boom results in widespread malinvestments, causing capital resources to be misallocated into areas that would not attract investment if price signals were not distorted. A correction or credit crunch occurs when credit creation cannot be sustained. Markets finally clear, causing resources to be reallocated back towards more efficient uses.

At the time it was put forward, the Mises-Hayek business cycle theory was actually a pretty big theoretical advance. The main competitors were the orthodox defenders of Says Law, who denied that a business cycle was possible (unemployment being attributed to unions or government-imposed minumum wages), and the Marxists who offered a model of catastrophic crisis driven by the declining rate of profit.

Both Marxism and classical economics were characterized by the assumption that money is neutral, a ‘veil’ over real transactions. On the classical theory, if the quantity of money suddenly doubled, with no change in the real productive capacity of the economy, prices and wages would rise rapidly. Once the price level had doubled the previous equilibrium would be restored. Says Law (every offer to supply a good service implies a demand to buy some other good or service) which is obviously true in a barter economy, was assumed to hold also for a money economy, and therefore to ensure that equilibrium involved full employment

The Austrians were the first to offer a good reason for the non-neutrality of money. Expansion of the money supply will lower (short-term) interest rates and therefore make investments more attractive.

There’s an obvious implication about the (sub)optimality of market outcomes here, though more obvious to a generation of economists for whom arguments about rational expectations are second nature than it was 100 years ago. If investors correctly anticipate that a decline in interest rates will be temporary, they won’t evaluate long-term investments on the basis of current rates. So, the Austrian story requires either a failure of rational expectations, or a capital market failure that means that individuals rationally choose to make ‘bad’ investments on the assumption that someone else will bear the cost. And if either of these conditions apply, there’s no reason to think that market outcomes will be optimal in general.

A closely related point is that, unless Say’s Law is violated, the Austrian model implies that consumption should be negatively correlated with investment over the business cycle, whereas in fact the opposite is true. To the extent that booms are driven by mistaken beliefs that investments have become more profitable, they are typically characterized by high, not low, consumption.

Finally, the Austrian theory didn’t say much about labour markets, but for most people, unemployment is what makes the business cycle such a problem. It was left to Keynes to produce a theory of how the non-neutrality of money could produce sustained unemployment.

The credit cycle idea can easily be combined with a Keynesian account of under-employment equilibrium, and even more easily with the Keynesian idea of ‘animal spirits’. This was done most prominently by Minsky, and the animsal spirits idea has recently revived by Akerlof and Shiller. I suspect that the macroeconomic model that emerges from the current crisis will have a recognisably Austrian flavour..

Unfortunately, having put taken the first steps in the direction of a serious theory of the business cycle, Hayek and Mises spent the rest of their lives running hard in the opposite direction. As Laidler observes, they took a nihilistic ‘liquidationist’ view in the Great Depression, a position that is not entailed by the theory, but reflects an a priori commitment to laissez-faire. The result was that Hayek lost support even from initial sympathisers like Dennis Robertson. And this mistake has hardened into dogma in the hands of their successors.

The modern Austrian school has tried to argue that the business cycle they describe is caused in some way by government policy, though the choice of policy varies from Austrian to Austrian - some blame paper money and want a gold standard, others blame central banks, some want a strict prohibition on fractional reserve banking while others favour a laissez-faire policy of free banking, where anyone who wants can print money and others still (Hayek for example) a system of competing currencies.

Rothbard (who seems to be the most popular exponent these days) blames central banking for the existence of the business cycle, which is somewhat problematic, since the business cycle predates central banking. In fact, central banking in its modern form was introduced in an attempt to stabilise the business cycle. The US Federal Reserve was only established in 1913, after Mises had published his analysis.

Rothbard gets around this by defining central banking to cover almost any kind of bank that has some sort of government endorsement, such as the (private) Bank of England in the 19th century, and arguing for a system of free banking that would avoid, he asserts, these problems. But, on any plausible definition of the term, the US had free banking from the Jackson Administration to the Civil War and that didn’t stop the business cycle (Rothbard offers some historical revisionism to argue that the Panic of 1837 didn’t really happen, but that wasn’t what US voters thought when they threw the Jacksonians out in 1840). And free banking in late 19th century Australia (our first quasi-central bank was the Commonwealth Bank established in 1915) didn’t prevent a huge boom and subsequent long depression around 1890. Overall, the US was much closer to free banking throughout the 19th century than in the period from 1945 until the development of the largely unregulated ’shadow banking’ system in the 1990s, but the business cycle was worse then (how much worse is a matter of some controversy, but no serious economist claims it was better).

To sum up, the version of the Austrian Business Cycle Theory originally developed by Hayek and Mises gives strong reasons to think that an unregulated financial system will be prone to booms and busts and that this will be true for a wide range of monetary systems, particularly including gold standard systems. But that is only part of what is needed for a complete account of the business cycle, and the theory can only be made coherent with a broadly Keynesian model of equilibrium unemployment. Trying to tie Austrian Business Cycle Theory to Austrian prejudices against government intervention has been a recipe for intellectual and policy disaster and theoretical stagnation."

it commits one of the most basic fallacies in economics — interpreting an accounting identity as a behavioral relationship.

From Paul Krugman:

"A Dark Age of macroeconomics (wonkish)

Brad DeLong is upset about the stuff coming out of Chicago these days — and understandably so. First Eugene Fama, now John Cochrane, have made the claim that debt-financed government spending necessarily crowds out an equal amount of private spending, even if the economy is depressed — and they claim this not as an empirical result, not as the prediction of some model, but as the ineluctable implication of an accounting identity.

There has been a tendency, on the part of other economists, to try to provide cover — to claim that Fama and Cochrane said something more sophisticated than they did. But if you read the original essays, there’s no ambiguity — it’s pure Say’s Law, pure “Treasury view”, in each case. Here’s Fama:

The problem is simple: bailouts and stimulus plans are funded by issuing more government debt. (The money must come from somewhere!) The added debt absorbs savings that would otherwise go to private investment. In the end, despite the existence of idle resources, bailouts and stimulus plans do not add to current resources in use. They just move resources from one use to another.

And here’s Cochrane:

First, if money is not going to be printed, it has to come from somewhere. If the government borrows a dollar from you, that is a dollar that you do not spend, or that you do not lend to a company to spend on new investment. Every dollar of increased government spending must correspond to one less dollar of private spending. Jobs created by stimulus spending are offset by jobs lost from the decline in private spending. We can build roads instead of factories, but fiscal stimulus can’t help us to build more of both.1 This is just accounting, and does not need a complex argument about “crowding out.”

Second, investment is “spending” every bit as much as consumption. Fiscal stimulus advocates want money spent on consumption, not saved. They evaluate past stimulus programs by whether people who got stimulus money spent it on consumption goods rather save it. But the economy overall does not care if you buy a car, or if you lend money to a company that buys a forklift.

There’s no ambiguity in either case: both Fama and Cochrane are asserting that desired savings are automatically converted into investment spending, and that any government borrowing must come at the expense of investment — period.

What’s so mind-boggling about this is that it commits one of the most basic fallacies in economics — interpreting an accounting identity as a behavioral relationship. Yes, savings have to equal investment, but that’s not something that mystically takes place, it’s because any discrepancy between desired savings and desired investment causes something to happen that brings the two in line.

It’s like the fact that the capital account and the current account of the balance of payment have to sum to zero: that’s true, but it does not mean that an increase in capital inflows magically translates into a trade deficit, without anything else changing (what John Williamson used to call the doctrine of immaculate transfer). A capital inflow produces a trade deficit by causing the exchange rate to appreciate, the price level to rise, or some other change in the real economy that affects trade flows.

Similarly, after a change in desired savings or investment something happens to make the accounting identity hold. And if interest rates are fixed, what happens is that GDP changes to make S and I equal.

That’s actually the point of one of the ways multiplier analysis is often presented to freshmen. Here’s the diagram:

A case of mistaken identity

In this picture savings plus taxes equal investment plus government spending, the accounting identity that both Fama and Cochrane think vitiates fiscal policy — but it doesn’t. An increase in G doesn’t reduce I one for one, it increases GDP, which leads to higher S and T.

Now, you don’t have to accept this model as a picture of how the world works. But you do have to accept that it shows the fallacy of arguing that the savings-investment identity proves anything about the effectiveness of fiscal policy.

So how is it possible that distinguished professors believe otherwise?

The answer, I think, is that we’re living in a Dark Age of macroeconomics. Remember, what defined the Dark Ages wasn’t the fact that they were primitive — the Bronze Age was primitive, too. What made the Dark Ages dark was the fact that so much knowledge had been lost, that so much known to the Greeks and Romans had been forgotten by the barbarian kingdoms that followed.

And that’s what seems to have happened to macroeconomics in much of the economics profession. The knowledge that S=I doesn’t imply the Treasury view — the general understanding that macroeconomics is more than supply and demand plus the quantity equation — somehow got lost in much of the profession. I’m tempted to go on and say something about being overrun by barbarians in the grip of an obscurantist faith, but I guess I won’t. Oh wait, I guess I just did."

Here's my reply:

I think that many of these deniers actually believe that a stimulus by government spending can influence behavior, but they’re worried that accepting that fact will commit them to a stimulus by government spending. Although their use of equations seems simplistic and mechanistic, so does picking an amount for the stimulus as you do. You make it sound as if we’re changing the oil. As well, I feel that infrastructure spending should be efficient and necessary. Just picking a number makes it sound like we’ll spend a lot of money foolishly.

I agree that a stimulus can effect behavior as we wish. I believe it because my political economy is a lot like Shiller’s. I read that he advocates a massive stimulus. And here’s my problem. I’m with Shiller on the stimulus. In order to work well, it needs to be very large. However, I’m also with Buiter, in believing that this spending carries serious risk for us going forward. Consequently, I end up with a plan much like the administration’s.

I also don’t consider social safety net spending a stimulus. It’s what we should do in order to help our citizens get through this crisis. By calling it a stimulus, I’m not sure if these government spending critics are saying that we shouldn’t spend on the social safety net, or simply that they don’t think that infrastructure spending works as a stimulus. As I said, I do, when it’s very large.

— Don the libertarian Democrat