The hollow economy

Looking for the next small (pre-party) book, I picked up G.D.H. Cole’s little 1938 Pelican [amazon_link id=”B000SHWV16″ target=”_blank” ]Persons and Periods[/amazon_link] (I have a 1945 edition). It’s a collection of essays by the economist and leading Fabian intellectual on Daniel Defoe (somebody who would now be considered a leading economic journalist, a Martin Wolf of his day, as well as a famous novelist) and his times.

[amazon_image id=”B000SHWV16″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Persons & Periods[/amazon_image]

There are some amusing parallels with modern debates about the state of the nation. In Defoe’s writings, and evidently in 1938 too, people bemoaned the dominance of London. “In 18th century England all roads, by land or by water, seemed to lead to London. …. London was, in Defoe’s day, the only town in England that could be reckoned large. … No wonder London seemed to Defoe and his contemporaries a prodigious place. overshadowing the whole country with the multitude and wealth of its consuming public.”

The following chapter is about ‘Roads, rivers and canals.’ In the 18th century, as now, travellers constantly complained about the state of the transport network, although the roads were being improved. “The trouble was not that the roads were getting worse but that they were being called upon to carry a quite unprecedentedly heavy volume of traffic.” Cole argues that the 19th century development of the canals, launched by the Duke of Bridgewater, and then railways, changed the location of people and activity: “In effect, with the advent of the canals, England ceased to be hollow.” The era of the great manufacturing cities of the north and Midlands followed.

Lessons here for our current ‘hollow’ economy? For a rebalanced economy, where the new infrastructure goes will be important.

The (uncomfortable) lessons of history

I’m not going to add to the ink/electrons expended on the UK economic policy proposals emerging from the party conferences so far. Reading about them so far – and with more to come next week no doubt – sent me back to a couple of fascinating books I have on my shelves. One, published in 1958, is [amazon_link id=”B0000CK05Q” target=”_blank” ]British Economic Policy Since the War [/amazon_link]by Andrew Shonfield. The other is a 1984 book with the superb title [amazon_link id=”0140225021″ target=”_blank” ]The British Economic Crisis: Its Past and Future [/amazon_link]by Keith Smith (as if the country had transitioned from having an economy to having a permanent economic crisis – well, it can feel like that).

One of the dispiriting things is how much of the diagnosis seems relevant in successive generations.

Shonfield writes in his concluding chapter:

“The central failure of postwar Britain is inadequate investment. So many of our difficulties flow from this. Because our wealth grows more slowly than the wealth of other countries, our prices rise faster… the balance of payments is like a raw and exposed nerve… It is bad for the spirit of any country to live with so little room for manoeuvre. There is a noticeable meanness of attitude in the British approach to the arts, to public buildings, to almost any kind of cultural activity. … It is a great depressive to live in a constant atmosphere of ‘make do’, to exist in a place where almost any effort to do anything or go anywhere leads you pretty soon into a bottleneck of some kind.”

Obviously very much of its time, but many British readers now would feel a ping of recognition.

[amazon_image id=”B0000CK05Q” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]British economic policy since the war (Penguin specials)[/amazon_image]

Smith, nearly 30 years later, wrote:

“If output, employment and incomes are to grow in Britain, then the problems of low and poorly directed R&D activity and low industrial investment, which are at the core of Britain’s economic decline, must be overcome. … Britain’s manufacturing performance is so poor that consumption increases have not fed through into increased demand for British products, and hence to investment in British industry. Consumption increases have been spent quite disproportionately on imports.”

Which crisis would that be?

As others have pointed out – for example, Stumbling and Mumbling – UK business investment is weak, weak, weak. The balance of payments deficit was equivalent to 3.8% of GDP last year, the biggest gap since 1989.

I’d like to see the policy debate acknowledge the long-term context.

Neglected mental furniture

There’s an interesting article in the new edition of The American Conservative about A.J.P. Taylor. (This journal isn’t one of my regular reads – the wonderful Arts & Letters Daily brought it to me.) The title is ‘A.J.P.Taylor is History’, the double entendre being that he shaped how we conceive of modern history, but is now forgotten. Surely not? I asked Twitter. It emerged that unless you’re of a certain age (i.e. middle aged), the answer is yes, Taylor is a neglected figure.

This is a shame. His scholarly work was important. [amazon_link id=”014013672X” target=”_blank” ]The Origins of the Second World War[/amazon_link] was of course controversial but it did put the spotlight on the fact that conditions in Europe were conducive to conflict, including the economic situation (as Keynes had forewarned in [amazon_link id=”1602390851″ target=”_blank” ]The Economic Consequences of the Peace[/amazon_link]). He was also one of the first media dons, a terrific broadcaster and populariser. These people are rarely popular among their colleagues but serve an important purpose, and act as one of the (too) few conduits between academic research and the taxpayers who fund it. Here he is on the BBC talking about Europe in 1939 and here in the BBC Archive talking about Winston Churchill.

[amazon_image id=”014013672X” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Origins of the Second World War[/amazon_image]

The discussion this morning about Taylor set me to thinking about the writers who formed my mental furniture in the late 1970s, in the sixth form and heading off to university. It was a kind of accident that turned me into an economist, history having been my main interest at school. I just pulled off my shelves as well Lytton Strachey’s [amazon_link id=”019955501X” target=”_blank” ]Eminent Victorians[/amazon_link], Christopher Hill’s [amazon_link id=”0140135359″ target=”_blank” ]Lenin and the Russian Revolution[/amazon_link], Herbert Butterfield’s [amazon_link id=”0393003183″ target=”_blank” ]The Whig Interpretation of History [/amazon_link]and Eric Hobsbawm’s [amazon_link id=”0140257888″ target=”_blank” ]Industry and Empire[/amazon_link], in beaten up old Penguin editions.

I don’t know what students read now, what shapes their mental landscape. Or for that matter what middle-aged folk in other disciplines or from outside the UK read in their formative years?

 

Lessons from the past

My Tube reading lately has been chapters from an excellent new book edited by Nick Crafts and Peter Fearon, [amazon_link id=”0199663181″ target=”_blank” ]The Great Depression of the 1930s: Lessons for Today[/amazon_link]. The comparison between the present day and the 30s has made frequent appearances in post-crisis commentary, so work by economic historians investigating the similarities and differences in forensic empirical detail is most welcome. The cast list of contributors for this book is impressive too, including Charles Calomiris, Timothy Hatton, Barry Eichengreen and other econ history stars.

[amazon_image id=”0199663181″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Great Depression of the 1930s: Lessons for Today[/amazon_image]

In the first two chapters, the editors first give an overview of international experience in the 1930s, and then what lessons that might hold for the present day. They would serve as a stand-alone overview of the issues. The big headline is that among all the causes of the Depression in the 30s, the constraint imposed by the gold standard combined with US and French accumulation of gold stands out for its causal role. The collapse in trade is presented here as a consequence, albeit one that quickly fed into the vicious downward spiral.

For today, that means the monetary response emerges the most important policy difference, a lesson truly learned and applied by the likes of Ben Bernanke and other central bankers. And for all that some groups in some countries are currently experiencing dreadful rates of unemployment, the cost in loss of jobs and human misery has been nothing like as great now as it was then. It is really encouraging to read that policymakers have not in fact been condemned to repeat the same mistakes as their forbears.

This raises the question about the Eurozone, however, the subject of the book’s final chapter by Barry Eichengreen and Peter Temin. Its conclusions are far more depressing. The authors see little room for optimism about any possible route out of the crisis – leaving the Euro is difficult and will cause turmoil, staying in is difficult and will cause political and economic instability. The only possible hope is for European governments to deliver on policies that might stimulate growth. The preceding chapter by Kris James Mitchener and Joseph Mason is somewhat sobering too, as it asks, having avoided earlier policy mistakes, how do countries now exit from their expansionary policies without disrupting the economy too much? They suggest that exit from the policies responding to the Great Depression did not occur until the 1950s; the implication is that we should be thinking on a similar timescale now.

There is much fascinating material in between these early and late chapters – this is a super collection.

I’d like to have read more about France in the 30s, as I hadn’t before realised that its gold hoarding had been larger in scale than America’s – most accounts focus on US policy. The section on the Nazis’ economic appeal is rather sobering, emphasising their ability to prioritise reducing unemployment, introduce large-scale public works, and at the same time keep wage pressure down by abolishing unions and collective bargaining.

The other country that brought unemployment down relatively quickly and realtively far in the 1930s was Britain, via a housebuilding programme – housebuilders then were able to respond quickly to low interest rates, unhampered by mad planning laws, in contrast to today. Another key difference between countries lay in the banking system, with the UK’s then in a much healthier state than the US’s. That balance has reversed now, and it is Britain’s banks that are failing to lend for new investment.

All in all, and continuing one of the themes of yesterday’s post on global governance, this book is an excellent advertisement for the relevance of economic history.

Forward thinking

I’ve started reading Mark Mazower’s [amazon_link id=”0141011939″ target=”_blank” ]Governing the World: The History of an Idea[/amazon_link]. It traces the idea of international governance back to its origins in the early 19th century. Two chapters in, I’ve already learned a lot. One striking point is that a kind of ‘future mentality’ emerged in the mid-years of the 19th century, and helps explain the acceleration of economic and political change:

“Historians of overseas European settlement have recently begun to argue that what was once written off as a boom/bust mentality of the colonial frontier needs to be taken more seriously as a kind of bet on the future that emerged quite suddenly in the 19th century in response to the shrinkage of time and space, a moment when the pace of change seemed to be accelerating. This ‘future thinking’ drove both capitalism and colonialism. It expressed itself in speculative fevers and land grabs, survived the inevitable crashes, failures and disappointments, and found confirmation in rapidly growing cities, new transcontinental communications, and a succession of technological marvels.”

Economists pay so much attention to modelling expectations, but don’t think enough beyond the mathematical formalities about how the way people think about both the future and the past determines the decisions and choices they make today. The only place I’ve come across this kind of thinking modelled is an old (1991) Paul Krugman QJE paper, History versus Expectations.

I like Mark Mazower’s books, having read both his [amazon_link id=”0140241590″ target=”_blank” ]Dark Continent: Europe’s Twentieth Century[/amazon_link] and[amazon_link id=”0007120222″ target=”_blank” ] Salonica, City of Ghosts[/amazon_link]. More on this one when I’ve got my head around his thesis.

[amazon_image id=”0141011939″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Governing the World: The History of an Idea[/amazon_image]