Does British business have a history?

The proofs for a book out in April, [amazon_link id=”0674050916″ target=”_blank” ]The People’s Car: A Global History of the Volkswagen Beetle[/amazon_link] by Bernhard Rieger, have landed here in Enlightenment Towers. It looks terrific, although I’ll put off reading it until a bit closer to publication date.

[amazon_image id=”0674050916″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The People’s Car: A Global History of the Volkswagen Beetle: A Global History of the Volkswagen Bettle[/amazon_image]

I do like a business history but can’t think of all that many on British firms. No doubt that’s my ignorance, and people will have lots of suggestions. But the only one that comes to mind this morning is [amazon_link id=”1841151866″ target=”_blank” ]A Computer called LEO: Lyons Tea Shops and the world’s first office computer[/amazon_link] by Georgina Ferry (partly because I was chatting to a friend about it). Geoffrey Owen did a splendid overview of post-war British industry a few years ago in [amazon_link id=”0006387500″ target=”_blank” ]From Empire to Europe[/amazon_link]. I can think of one or two other more general books, like Andrew and Melanie Kelly’s [amazon_link id=”0955074231″ target=”_blank” ]Take Flight[/amazon_link], which combines business and regional history.

There are loads of books on American computer and internet pioneers – we didn’t have many of those in the UK although by beloved husband Rory Cellan-Jones wrote about the millennial dot com boom in the UK in [amazon_link id=”1854107909″ target=”_blank” ]Dot Bomb: The Rise and Fall of Dot Com Britain[/amazon_link].

American business historians have a rich tradition beyond the tech sector – Alfred Chandler forged the way with his [amazon_link id=”0674940520″ target=”_blank” ]The Visible Hand[/amazon_link], albeit covering more than one firm in that masterwork. (The Economist obit of Chandler describes him as: “the man who more or less invented the history of the big corporation.”) Daniel Yergin has written definitely about the oil industry in [amazon_link id=”1847376460″ target=”_blank” ]The Prize[/amazon_link] and the more recent [amazon_link id=”0143121944″ target=”_blank” ]The Quest[/amazon_link] on energy security. I can even think of a number on German firms – like this VW book and also Harold James’s recent [amazon_link id=”069115340X” target=”_blank” ]Krupp: A History of the Legendary German Firm[/amazon_link].

Help me out on the history of British business giants! Surely there are histories of BP, Rolls Royce, John Lewis, the Pru?

Adrift in theory and history

A new book has flown through the letter box and landed, squawking gently to attract attention, on my desk this afternoon. I’m distracted enough from my work to page through it, and am jolted alert by the title of the concluding chapter: “Using Theory to Learn from History.” That’s exactly what economists presuming to give policy advice ought to do.

The theory in [amazon_link id=”069115743X” target=”_blank” ]The Leaderless Economy[/amazon_link] by Peter Temin and David Vines is the theory of internal and external balance in international economics. The history is the Great Depression – “The economic problems of the 1930s only became known as the Great Depression after the fact. Politicians and economists struggled to understand what was happening in real time.”

The real time choices political leaders around the world make now will have large and lasting effects. Will theory and history help them avert Great Depression 2.0? My quick scan of the book suggests the authors are not optimistic. Back to work.

[amazon_image id=”069115743X” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Leaderless Economy: Why the World Economic System Fell Apart and How to Fix It[/amazon_image]

Gross Domestic Problem

Here’s a book title that wears its heart on its cover. Lorenzo Fioramonti’s[amazon_link id=”1780322739″ target=”_blank” ] Gross Domestic Problem: the politics behind the world’s most powerful number[/amazon_link] gives you the essence of the argument upfront. If I had to sum it up as an elevator pitch, it would be Tim Jackson’s [amazon_link id=”1849713235″ target=”_blank” ]Prosperity Without Growth[/amazon_link] view (that economic growth is environmentally unaffordable and unnecessary for welfare) meets the left-wing belief that the military-industrial complex is in control of the economy for its own purposes. I don’t agree with either, although my disagreement is sympathetic.

[amazon_image id=”1780322739″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Gross Domestic Problem: The Politics Behind the World’s Most Powerful Number (Economic Controversies)[/amazon_image]

Start with growth and the environmental costs. It is surely obvious to all but a small minority that measuring better the impact of economic activity on the environment is vital. My preference is to monitor the depletion of natural assets of all kinds, a balance sheet approach automatically injecting the longer-term perspective necessary for sustainability – there is much on this in [amazon_link id=”0691145180″ target=”_blank” ]The Economics of Enough[/amazon_link]. But any kind of environmental dashboard would be welcome. What drives me to distraction is the persistent belief that we should just stop economic growth because it’s not making us happy. This is simply incorrect – this book cites no research on the question later than 1997. Subsequent research has clearly established a strong link between GDP per capita growth and measured ‘happiness’ – see for example this recent paper on happiness and GDP, and the references in it. Besides, just think – no growth means no innovation, no redistribution (it has never happened outside a rapidly growing economy), rising unemployment (unless companies are banned from improving their productivity ever). The misguided belief that growth won’t make people happier is dangerous because it will prevent any practical politics of sustainability.

On the book’s political arguments, it’s obvious post-crisis that conventional, mainstream economics has been wrong to ignore the politics of finance and the lobbying power of the banking industry. Brett Christophers’ new book, [amazon_link id=”1444338285″ target=”_blank” ]Banking Across Borders[/amazon_link], is a fascinating historical account of how that power developed – including its use of the mantra of GDP – in the post-war era. By contrast, Gross Domestic Problem offers some assertions: “GDP served the interests of political and economic elites for several decades”  – OK; “European member states came to accept that only if GDP went up could they afford to pay for schools, hospitals and social security” – er, the Stability and Growth Pact to which this refers aimed to cap government deficits, but raising taxes to pay for public services was never ruled out, certainly not by reference to GDP; “Between 1948 and 1989 American economic growth was largely dependent on military spending” – really? I agree the military budget is high but is it really true that every innovation in the post-war period had no impact on growth? Utterly implausible.

One particular confusion that many commentators on GDP make is muddling up this measure of economic activity with the measurement of economic welfare. Economics has always been clear about the distinction. Simon Kuznets, one of the creators of GDP and the national accounts, advocated a measure of welfare instead but lost the argument – this book presents his work as criticism of the definition of GDP, but the quotes here date from a 1937 book in which he was pitching for a welfare approach instead. The production demands of the war – when the military-industrial complex was indeed powerful – swung it in favour of GDP instead.

I do think these seemingly dry questions of measurement are important, and that measurement choices affect the way people behave. However, Gross Domestic Problem is an unsubtle and confused take on the question of GDP. GDP is one measure of economic growth – there could be others, and economic growth is highly desirable, in my view, subject to the huge challenge of moving towards sustainability. Measuring the economy’s size differs from measuring society’s welfare, but they are linked. It’s high time political economy was revived, but understanding how elites acquire economic power deserves some serious social science research rather than conventional assertions.

 

Lincoln-mania

My plan to go and see Daniel Day-Lewis as Lincoln on 12th February, Lincoln’s birthday, has been overturned by the landing in my diary of a flock of meetings that day. At least I can now find an earlier date. I’m a bit of a Lincoln groupie and the film has had fantastic reviews. If there’s anybody out there who hasn’t yet read Doris Kearns Goodwin’s [amazon_link id=”0141043725″ target=”_blank” ]Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln[/amazon_link], an important inspiration for Tony Kushner’s screenplay, now you really have no excuse. It’s a fascinating book – and there is a [amazon_link id=”0241966086″ target=”_blank” ]film tie-in edition[/amazon_link]. The main lesson I took from it concerns Lincoln’s ability to think strategically, by which I really mean keeping focused on the ultimate outcome and having the patience to stitch together meanwhile the many actions and conversations it takes to achieve a difficult goal. That ability to be strategic, to be anything other than ultra-short term, has vanished from modern public life and I suppose was rare in the 19th century too.

[amazon_image id=”0241966086″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Team of Rivals: Lincoln Film Tie-in Edition: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln[/amazon_image]

Orwellian language

It has been one of my life’s missions to try to communicate economics clearly, by writing accessible books. George Orwell’s Politics and the English Language was an early influence on my writing. This wonderful essay is also available as a [amazon_link id=”0141393068″ target=”_blank” ]Penguin pamphlet[/amazon_link].

[amazon_image id=”0141393068″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Politics and the English Language[/amazon_image]

Every writer, especially one “translating” jargon-based work like economics into English should follow his rules:

i. Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

ii. Never use a long word where a short one will do.

iii. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.

iv. Never use the passive where you can use the active.

v. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.

vi. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

I wholeheartedly agree as well with the claim in this essay that: “[The English language] becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.” I’m always highly suspicious of books written so impenetrably that they’re hard to understand, including academic books.

Anyway, if you happen not to have read the essay, do – bearing in mind the irony that (because of [amazon_link id=”014118776X” target=”_blank” ]1984[/amazon_link]) ‘Orwellian’ has come to mean the opposite of the kind of writing Orwell champions here.

[amazon_image id=”0141393041″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Nineteen Eighty-Four[/amazon_image]

Update: I just found this Steve Poole column describing the Orwell essay as ‘wildly over-rated’. He underestimates how hard it is to follow the rules above, even if following them slavishly might be too extreme. Have a go yourself….