Money. Doing it Right this Time.

Can I ask what may be a silly question?

Where does inflation fit in to the picture from the initial equation?

I understand MV=PQ (extremely helpful to an economic dullard like me, that alone was quite illuminating, thanks), but from that it seems that inflation simply means someone is not putting the correct amount of M in to the system to maintain P at a static level - also wouldn't that be more efficient?



It's not that simple for many reasons. The first, most important, and the one you most frequently see people getting wrong when they only know a teeny tiny bit of the issue, is that V is not a constant. In old school monetarist version, which is still very popular among the uneducated, V is considered a constant and so any change in M equals a change in P (They hold Q as a constant as well, which is equally wrong). Once you accept that V is a variable (I prefer to think of it as a volatile rather than a variable, because it changes, often extremely dramatically, in connection with a number of other events) then you have to abandon change in M equaling change in P.

The next part is that Q is not a constant. Now in the short run, the very, very, short run, you can say that Q is a constant. But it breaks down very rapidly at longer time horizons. You can say that changes in Q over the long run (this applies to V as well) are more or less predictable, and so the equation can ignore them. But that is not the same as saying that they are constants.

So, MV=PQ is 4 variables, all of them subject to change. Change in no one of them matters specifically to any of the others.

Further, what I just described is a very simple example. The real world is more complex than that. In the real world we want money that does not cause disruptions to the real economy. And the real economy is something which is constantly changing. So because the real economy is constantly changing, the demand for money within it is constantly changing. And so the supply of money within it must also constantly change. If the money does not change to match the demand for money, then you cause disruptions in the system.

There is no quantity of money you could decide on in the system that will be the correct, or best possible, quantity of money over any length of time. You get a month or 2 tops out of any given M.
 
The short answer is yes. In the long run, putting in too much money leads directly to a higher price level. If you want to talk about rates of change, putting in money faster than the economy is growing will just feed into inflation.

Let's talk about long time horizons, and about rates. Since MV=PY in levels, when we turn it into growth rates the equation becomes m+v=p+y, where the lower-case letters are things like "2% per year".

Now over a long time horizon, y = 3% or so. So if you wanted there to be no inflation, you could restrict (m+v) to equal 3%. then inflation would equal zero over the long run, and the price level would be stable. Similarly, long-run inflation is determined by long-run money growth. This is in fact the theory of Milton Friedman: keep the money stock growing at 3% per year, just enough to keep up with output growth, and enjoy a stable price level.


That was all in the long run, where V is stable so v is close to zero. In the short run, and particularly during troubling times like financial crises, v can be highly unstable so there's no nice neat 1-1 relationship between money growth and inflation growth. But it is true over long (5+ year) time horizons.
 
Okay, so I can see it's unpredictable, I note that we almost always have positive inflation, is this considered inherently better than deflation and why?

Related: what caused the hyper-inflation in Zimbabwe (or similar events) - is it purely a factor in the equation or is it an external factor?
 
In earlier posts in this thread we described how hard it is to get the money supply exactly right. In fact, it is essentially impossible to do so in any short time period. What happens is that you have a trend line that you are aiming for, and you have a scattershot of points where some are above that line, and some are below that line, and there are constant adjustments to keep to the targeted trend. But given the nature of the system, getting it exactly right is so rare of an occurrence that it's pretty much pointless as even a goal.

So why target above instead of below? 2 reasons really. The first is that deflation is extremely dangerous to the economy. Loans are denominated in the face value of the money. What that means is that if the value of the money goes down, inflation, then the loan becomes easier to repay over time. But if the value of the money goes up, deflation, then the loans become harder to repay. And the problem with that is that you then start to get a lot more loan defaults. Too much deflation, and you start to get so many loan defaults that you get bank failures. And then you have a real risk of a deep recession or even a depression. The other reason is that it has been the experience in the developed nations that you get the fastest economic growth when there is a small but constant level of inflation. Call it greasing the system. Everything just functions a bit more smoothly.
 
Okay, so I can see it's unpredictable, I note that we almost always have positive inflation, is this considered inherently better than deflation and why?

Related: what caused the hyper-inflation in Zimbabwe (or similar events) - is it purely a factor in the equation or is it an external factor?

Why is 2% a "good inflation rate"?

There is a huge literature on this, and I've only scratched the surface myself. I can try to give an explanation.

1. The "measurement" argument. We measure the CPI, but the CPI overstates "true" inflation due to measurement error. Thus when we target 2% CPI inflation, we are actually targeting 0% "real" inflation.

2. The "room to maneuver" argument. In practice most central banks influence economic activity by adjusting the short-term interest rate up or down. Now the trend rate of the interest rate is related to the trend rate of inflation. If we had a 0% inflation target, the trend interest rate would be closer to 2% than 4%, and the central bank wouldn't be able to cut interest rates so aggressively during economic downturns.

3. The "grease the wheels" argument. During recessions, it's often the case that real wages are too high and need to fall, to restore equilibrium (reduce unemployment). However wage cuts are pretty difficult to achieve: workers don't like it when their wages fall. Inflation erodes people's real wages even if their nominal wages are constant, and so can help with labor-market adjustments.

On deflation: some kinds of deflation are good (technology booms!) and some kinds of deflation are bad (demand-side recessions!). We see the latter more often than the former, so most economists and general onlookers distrust and dislike deflation.


What the hell's up with Zimbabwe?

Monetary expansion and lots of it, combined with nobody trusting the central bank to stop said money expansion.
 
You are teleported to a parallel universe much like our own. In this universe, it is January 1, 2003.

Alan Greenspan is rereading Atlas Shrugged when he gets a little too Randy. The strain is too much for his old heart, and he keels over dead.

In a surprise move, George W. Bush appoints you Chairman of the Federal Reserve. In this parallel universe, there is no need to already be on the board of the Fed to become Fed chairman.

What do you do differently from what the Fed did under Greenspan+Bernanke from 2003 to the present? How do you anticipate this would have changed events?
 
Assuming you started soon enough, the policies to pursue are not monetary, but rather regulatory. And the Fed may not have the legal authority in and of itself to regulate the problem away at such a late date.

Now you could begin a little monetary tightening, and some economists would argue that that would have dampened down the housing bubble. Over time I've become less confident that that would have accomplished much. So to me that is a debatable point.

However, that's not the real problem with causing the financial crisis. The real crisis was not that too many mortgages were being made at too low rates, but that the terms and conditions, and most important the quality, of the mortgages deteriorated too much over time.

So the regulation that is needed is the regulation of lending standards. This would have had a far greater effect than anything that could have been done with monetary policy. What was needed is an insistence that borrowers are not given loans beyond their means to pay. And that second mortgages do not pay for the down payment or any other thing except the house. You may have heard that "people used their houses as ATMs." That was actually extremely dangerous to the mortgage industry. And never should have been permitted.

There was also a critical need to regulate Wall St and the credit agencies. They caused most of the problems through straight on greed and recklessness.

The crisis happened because the financial companies were reckless, not because monetary policy was too loose.
 
I see - thanks for helping clarify that point for me, here and in another thread.

So I'll ask some follow-up questions about regulation. How much of the regulation that could have prevented the bubble has been established (or reestablished) in its aftermath? Was the 2010 Dodd-Frank bill helpful, or does it not go far enough? And is easy credit re-emerging now? I've read news articles about bankrupt people continuing to be issued credit card offers and the like, but I don't know if this is a widespread phenomenon or if it extends to the mortgage market.
 
I am not happy with Dodd-Frank. Without rereading all the provisions going just on memory, it is at best half-measures. And will not have a great positive effect. It has some positive aspects, but not enough to really matter. It did not reinstate Glass-Stegal. It did not cap credit card rates low enough. It did not easy personal bankruptcy laws. It did not sufficiently consolidate regulatory authority. It did not ban the public ownership of investment banks. It did not ban commercial banks ownership of non bank operations.

It did not reduce the size of banks and other financial institutions.

I could go on and on.

So in the end it will do little to no good.
 
You are teleported to a parallel universe much like our own. In this universe, it is January 1, 2003.

Alan Greenspan is rereading Atlas Shrugged when he gets a little too Randy. The strain is too much for his old heart, and he keels over dead.

In a surprise move, George W. Bush appoints you Chairman of the Federal Reserve. In this parallel universe, there is no need to already be on the board of the Fed to become Fed chairman.

What do you do differently from what the Fed did under Greenspan+Bernanke from 2003 to the present? How do you anticipate this would have changed events?

The Fed has loads of power outside what we normally think of, but I will leave those out. I might consider raising interest rates a fair amount. Maybe a lot in 2004 :devil: and get some radical lefty democrat the nomination followed by the win. Start a recession :p

No, but I would consider raising interest rates. The downsides mean a stronger dollar and a cooled economy in an already weak economic time, but the upside means a lot more buffer room and a place for rich people to park their assets that aren't crazy investments like the ones they sought later. Seriously, the rich ran out of safe investments and went elsewhere and it fueled a bubble.
 
No, but I would consider raising interest rates. The downsides mean a stronger dollar and a cooled economy in an already weak economic time, but the upside means a lot more buffer room and a place for rich people to park their assets that aren't crazy investments like the ones they sought later. Seriously, the rich ran out of safe investments and went elsewhere and it fueled a bubble.


I've been saying that. Have you been seeing any numbers in school? I'd like to see it quantified.
 
You are teleported to a parallel universe much like our own. In this universe, it is January 1, 2003.

Alan Greenspan is rereading Atlas Shrugged when he gets a little too Randy. The strain is too much for his old heart, and he keels over dead.

In a surprise move, George W. Bush appoints you Chairman of the Federal Reserve. In this parallel universe, there is no need to already be on the board of the Fed to become Fed chairman.

What do you do differently from what the Fed did under Greenspan+Bernanke from 2003 to the present? How do you anticipate this would have changed events?

I immediately announce that the goal of monetary policy in the US will be stable aggregate demand growth, consistent with the goal of low inflation and low unemployment. I announce that we will target nominal GDP at a level path of 5% per year.

For ease of use by the public, I will frame monetary policy as "sort of" reacting to (core inflation - unemployment). I will work hard to make sure Congress and the public know what "level targeting" means: that if we undershoot our target at some point, we'll correct the mistake. So since the target is stated in terms of NGDP, if we hit 4% in any one year, we'll make sure we hit 6% the next year to keep the average at 5%. (Hint: what does that do in today's situation?)

I instruct my desk in New York to implement monetary policy by looking at TIPS futures spreads and (the new) NGDP futures spreads. We ease monetary policy when TIPS/NGDP spreads turn down and we tighten policy when TIPS/NGDP spreads tend up, to keep spread around 2% expected inflation. The day-to-day operation of the target will be through normal adjustments of the short-term interest rate. Monetary policy ought to be forward-looking and those are the best indicators we have of forward-looking quantities.

I appoint Bernanke, Krugman, Woodford, and Mishkin to the Fed, to be advised by Milton Friedman, Svennson, Taylor, McCallum, and Hall. With that much intellectual firepower I shouldn't have to do much work myself.

I instruct my Fed to write a contingency plan for a sudden drop in nominal GDP, to include asset-buying programs, currency devaluation, and continued commitment to the old level path. The very existence of these programs will shift public expectations and make such contingency plans unnecessary.

Effects: none of this would have done much on the surface from 2003-2008. However, it would have reacted extremely aggressively in June-August 2008 to prevent the fall in aggregate demand. Public and business expectations would also have been much adjusted, and the combination of the two effects would have been enough to prevent a fall in NGDP.
 
Effects: none of this would have done much on the surface from 2003-2008. However, it would have reacted extremely aggressively in June-August 2008 to prevent the fall in aggregate demand. Public and business expectations would also have been much adjusted, and the combination of the two effects would have been enough to prevent a fall in NGDP.



My question on this is, to what extent was it known, or could have been known, in the necessary time period to make those policy decisions? Given the information lag, can policy makes know in real time what is necessary, even given their willingness to pull out all the stops? Seems to me there's a lot of uncertainty there.
 
My question on this is, to what extent was it known, or could have been known, in the necessary time period to make those policy decisions? Given the information lag, can policy makes know in real time what is necessary, even given their willingness to pull out all the stops? Seems to me there's a lot of uncertainty there.

Look back at TIPS spreads: they started falling in June 2008. The signs of an aggregate demand collapse were all present in June, but nobody acted until September. Heck, I wasn't looking in the right places either. That's three months of neglect.

Similarly, QEII was announced in part to put a stop to a similar decline in TIPS spreads. QEII may have prevented a double-dip.
 
I've been saying that. Have you been seeing any numbers in school? I'd like to see it quantified.
I haven't. Unfortunately.

I said this to David Romer during class. He found it intruiging but was more interested in a couple other low interest rate narratives that didn't involve businesses pushing risky assets. He was more interested in asking us whether Robert Reich's "keeping up" theory of credit demand was the answer or if some other dude's (forgot where in reading) theory of something consumer or government based with low interests and bad choices or whatever.

I think in addition to too low a Fed rate, businesses made the mistake of lowering their own interest rates to attract customers during this find-new-investments-because-we-have-more-money-than-we-know-what-to-do-with craze. That they provided credit cards because they wanted to soak up every dollar because they were already in a seemingly safe position with so much accumulated wealth that they over-leveraged in aggregate.

If Fed rates were higher, then I think things might have gone differently.

It's worth noting that if investment isn't stimulating employment/wages then low interest rates probably aren't helping, anyway.

Probably. I'm not an economist ;)
 
From my perspective, small increases in interest rates by Fed action probably wouldn't have done much because the market was flooded with money. The Fed does not have complete control of what the interest rates are. Not unless the credit markets are tight. So they would have had to act very aggressively, and doing that would have kicked off a recession. If the Fed had managed to engineer a small increase in interest rates, that would have prevented some of the mortgages being made. But I have a hard time seeing it as a major restriction. Not the way the mortgage industry was acting.

Which begs the question, as we were discussing a few pages ago, if excess savings are not necessarily going in to investments, then what is the right policy response?
 
The Fed has kicked off numerous interest-rate recessions. Most recessions post WW2 are such recessions. I'd like to see interest rates much higher.

Not sure what the response is. Might be more government action. Might be that we suck it up and accept a turbulent and disappointing economy.
 
Here's a long article anyone following this thread should take the time to read to get a feel for what the Fed does and why.

The Villain

The left hates him. The right hates him even more. But Ben Bernanke saved the economy—and has navigated masterfully through the most trying of times.
By Roger Lowenstein

Full article HERE

Excerpts below.

The U.S. Federal Reserve was founded 99 years ago, as a bulwark to the banking system and an antidote to its frequent runs and panics. Strictly speaking, it was America’s third attempt at a central bank. The first, organized by Congress in 1791, was allowed to expire after 20 years, leaving the young republic with only a patchwork system of weaker state banks. During the War of 1812, Congress realized its error (in the absence of a central bank, inflation had run rampant), and in 1816, it chartered a second bank, again for 20 years. The Second Bank of the United States was, in the main, a success. Its notes were circulated as currency, and it astutely managed their supply so as to keep the economy humming. Alas, President Andrew Jackson, a fierce opponent of both paper money and national banks, campaigned in 1832 against renewal of the charter, and indirectly against the bank’s brilliant but impetuous head, Nicholas Biddle. Resentment against financiers was running high, and the election became a referendum on the genteel Philadelphia banker versus the rough-hewn war hero—and a referendum on the bank itself. Jackson won, and the Second Bank was, per his promise, destroyed. The U.S. economy promptly plunged into a severe depression. Biddle died not long after, in semi-disgrace, but the battle between bankers and populists never went away.

...

He studied the Depression as a graduate student at MIT, and as a young academic earned his reputation by expanding on Milton Friedman’s classic monetary history. According to Friedman, the Fed’s failure in the 1930s was a matter of not printing enough money. Bernanke deduced that the real failure was letting the banking system implode. “What Bernanke discovered was that it wasn’t the quantity of money, it was that the banks stopped lending,” says Stanley Fischer, formerly Bernanke’s thesis adviser at MIT and currently the governor of the Bank of Israel. “More than the decline in money, it was the collapse of credit.” The implication was that regulating banks in good times—and, if need be, rescuing them in bad—was of prime importance, something Bernanke would remember in the 2007–09 crisis.

...

The particular problem of the ’30s was deflation: goods were worth less each year—or, alternatively, dollars were worth more. In a mirror image of inflation, no one would spend, because lower prices were forever just around the corner, and no one would borrow, because they would have to repay their debts with more valuable currency. The central bank cut interest rates to try to induce borrowing and spending, but then it was bereft of tried-and-true methods of stimulating the economy. Production and employment kept spiraling downward; Keynes called this a “liquidity trap.”

...

But while Bernanke recognized the danger in theory, he did not anticipate the looming crash in home prices. Indeed, he argued that central banks, including the Fed, had tamed the extremes of the economic cycle. In 2005, in a speech in St. Louis, he cogently explained how capital from China and other countries was flowing into the U.S. mortgage market and spurring higher prices in residential real estate. He did not express concern. The following year, as the housing bubble reached its peak, he became Fed chairman.

n 2007, as the subprime-mortgage crisis leached into the financial markets, Bernanke’s training failed him. As a scholar, he had studied how bank failures worsened the Depression; as the Fed chair, he didn’t scrutinize the banks closely enough—that is, he overlooked the fact that dicey mortgage-backed securities made up a sizable portion of the assets of the biggest banks. “Risk was concentrated in key financial intermediaries,” he told me. “It led to panics and runs. That’s what made it all so bad.” Speaking of government officials collectively, he added, “Everyone failed to appreciate that our sophisticated, hypermodern, highly hedged, derivatives-based financial system—how ultimately fragile it really was.”

There was, I think, another reason for his blindness: Bernanke had an academic’s faith in the market’s essential rightness. He was so skeptical of the notion of mass-market folly that in his scholarly writings, he referred to bubbles in quotation marks. He was not, like Greenspan, ideologically opposed to government intervention, but he was dubious that anyone could identify, in real time, when markets were off course.

These criticisms aside, if one is assigning blame, it is important to note that the bubble inflated almost entirely on Greenspan’s watch. The time to avoid a crash was when mortgages were getting written, or when banks could still sell off assets without sparking a panic; by the time Bernanke arrived, a crisis was probably inevitable. In any case, by 2008, Bernanke was confronting the very type of banking meltdown he had spent his academic life studying. No one was better suited to the job; indeed, the Fed adopted the remedies Bernanke had outlined in his 2002 address nearly point for point.

...

Even rightward-leaning economists mostly give Bernanke a pass on his actions during the financial panic itself. The fog of war was pretty intense, and he avoided losing taxpayer money. But in the second stage—resurrecting the economy, and potentially tinkering with the inflation rate—he has taken heat from thinkers on both sides of the aisle. Even the Fed’s Open Market Committee, the group that sets interest-rate policy, is splintered. In the Greenspan era, especially as the chairman’s aura grew, this body spoke with one voice, rubber-stamping whatever the chairman wanted. Bernanke’s committee is a monetary Babel—partly because he is open to hearing contrary opinions, and partly because opinion is so deeply divided. While Greenspan withstood a dissenting vote here or there, Bernanke has suffered 32 nay votes, including three dissents in a single meeting. That hadn’t happened in 20 years.

...

The formative experience for the European Central Bank was the hyperinflation in Germany in the 1920s, which ever since has steeled central bankers on the Continent against the perils of printing money. In Frankfurt, the idea of “lender of last resort” wasn’t, and isn’t, embraced. For the U.S. Federal Reserve, the formative experience was a series of depressions beginning in the 19th century and culminating in the Great Depression. After the demise of Biddle’s bank in the 1830s, “money” in the U.S. consisted of whatever notes banks printed and people agreed to take. Even after the Civil War, when “money” became more uniform, currency was often a scarce commodity, and banking panics were frequent.

Even rightward-leaning economists mostly give Bernanke a pass on his actions during the financial panic itself. The fog of war was pretty intense, and he avoided losing taxpayer money. But in the second stage—resurrecting the economy, and potentially tinkering with the inflation rate—he has taken heat from thinkers on both sides of the aisle. Even the Fed’s Open Market Committee, the group that sets interest-rate policy, is splintered. In the Greenspan era, especially as the chairman’s aura grew, this body spoke with one voice, rubber-stamping whatever the chairman wanted. Bernanke’s committee is a monetary Babel—partly because he is open to hearing contrary opinions, and partly because opinion is so deeply divided. While Greenspan withstood a dissenting vote here or there, Bernanke has suffered 32 nay votes, including three dissents in a single meeting. That hadn’t happened in 20 years.

Most of Bernanke’s dissenters are hawks, but Charles Evans, president of the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago, has dissented twice because he thinks the Fed should be willing to tolerate a higher rate of inflation until the job market recovers. Janet Yellen, the Fed’s vice chair, and William Dudley, president of the New York Fed, also lean toward increased stimulus. No previous Fed chief had to deal with such an internal crossfire.

Bernanke’s quandary derives from the fact, unusual among the world’s central banks, that the Fed has a “dual mandate”—by law, it is required to promote “maximum employment” and also “stable prices.” The European Central Bank, by contrast, is supposed to worry only about inflation. This is why the latter twice raised interest rates in 2011, when Europe was teetering at the edge of recession and possibly default.

The formative experience for the European Central Bank was the hyperinflation in Germany in the 1920s, which ever since has steeled central bankers on the Continent against the perils of printing money. In Frankfurt, the idea of “lender of last resort” wasn’t, and isn’t, embraced. For the U.S. Federal Reserve, the formative experience was a series of depressions beginning in the 19th century and culminating in the Great Depression. After the demise of Biddle’s bank in the 1830s, “money” in the U.S. consisted of whatever notes banks printed and people agreed to take. Even after the Civil War, when “money” became more uniform, currency was often a scarce commodity, and banking panics were frequent.

The Fed was conceived, in 1913, as a backstop to the financial system. “Printing money”—the accusation that Rick Perry leveled against Bernanke—was part of the job description from the outset. Currency still consisted of banknotes, only now the bank was the Federal Reserve. The Fed seemed to fulfill its promise during World War I, pumping hundreds of millions of emergency dollars into the financial system. During the Depression, for reasons that are still being debated, it failed. Bernanke clearly has avoided the worst mistakes central banks made in the Depression. Yet unemployment remains high, raising questions from some economists, especially on the left, as to whether the Fed has done enough.

...

Bernanke has given serious thought to the Krugman-Rogoff argument. One obstacle is practical. Fed policy works, in part, by getting the market to do the Fed’s work (if the Fed is buying bonds, traders who want to be on the same side of the markets as the central bank will buy bonds too). But any policy adopted by less than a 7-to-3 majority by the Fed’s Open Market Committee would not be viewed by markets as a credible policy, likely to endure, and Bernanke is not guaranteed to get this margin today. “No central banker would do it,” Mankiw says of raising the inflation target; the political reaction would be too severe. (When Mankiw, a Harvard economist, wrote a column raising the possibility of a higher inflation target, Drew Faust, the university’s president, received letters urging her to fire him.)

...

Still, the Fed has always faced the challenge of tightening credit after a period of ease. The fact that it has been accumulating long-term bonds rather than short-term bills is a relatively benign innovation, less exotic than many observers have claimed. So far, the hawks have seen inflation around every corner. So far, they have been wrong, and Bernanke has been right. The reasons critics so hate quantitative easing, I think, have less to do with the mechanics of bank reserves and more with nostalgia for a more cautious, and more tradition-bound, Federal Reserve. Quantitative easing’s critics want the Fed to be leaner and less activist. They want consumers to reduce their debts, not to borrow and spend anew, and they fear that quantitative easing will create a new consumption bubble. Bernanke, in fact, has been facile on this point; he told Congress in February, “Our nation’s tax and spending policies should increase incentives to work and save,” but his nearly zero percent interest rate clearly discourages saving.

...

Bernanke’s conception of the central banker’s job, Blanchard pointed out, has been fuller, more comprehensive, than that of their fellow bankers in Europe. Indeed, the European Central Bank has lately begun to mimic the Fed’s approach to its own crisis. By mid-winter, U.S. unemployment had fallen to its lowest level since the end of the recession. Almost certainly, Bernanke will leave office with the United States in better shape than the Continent.

...

Originalists who are unhappy with quantitative easing are unhappy with elastic currency and with fiat money itself; nothing but gold will do. This has been true, of course, for 40 years—since the U.S. went off the gold standard—but only Bernanke has had to implement with such vigor the Fed’s original missions of “lender of last resort” and “coiner of an elastic currency.” And he is up there now, in the helicopter, showering us with money, as the Fed didn’t do but should have done in 1933. Yet even as this comforts, it elicits in most of us a spasm of wonder, or anxiety, that a single Ph.D. or a building full of them could calibrate such a mystery as the proper quantity of money, particularly in an economy as dynamic as ours is today. Bernanke does not use gold as a measuring stick; he does not count the money in circulation as a basis for determining interest rates, as Volcker did, or tried to do. His mentor, Milton Friedman, thought the business of adjusting interest rates was so tricky, it would be better to yield the job to a computer. But Bernanke thinks a human can do it. He sticks to his notion of what inflation should be, and his prediction of where it is headed, trusting that his judgment will tell him when to add more liquidity, when to subtract. And, to a greater extent than he is credited with now, history may marvel that Bernanke has been a success.
 
Following up on an earlier part of the discussion, I was going through some old files and I came across this old article that supports my thesis that savings does not equal investment.

Businessweek Archives
The Problem Isn't Savings, It's The Way We Invest
Posted on May 10, 1992

Four weeks ago in this space, I wrote approvingly of research by Fred Block and Robert L. Heilbroner that suggests that America's savings rate is miscalculated. Their most arresting finding is that when you count realized capital gains as part of personal income, the overall rate of private savings in the 1980s did not decline, contrary to widespread belief. Several indignant readers wrote to advise that any freshman economics student knows why capital-gains income shouldn't be counted as savings: By definition, savings are what is left over from income after consumption. And by definition, realized capital gains are not savings (since they don't depress consumption), but are simply an inflation of existing financial assets.

But this is precisely the trouble: These time-honored definitions lead to a misunderstanding of the issue. Suppose, for example, that Smith buys a share of stock for $100. The stock price then goes up to $200. Jones takes $200 out of his savings account and buys the stock from Smith. At this point, Smith's net worth has increased by $100. But Jones is no poorer--the form of his financial asset has simply changed. Meanwhile, Smith can take his $100 gain and invest it in something new or spend some of it. The transaction is analogous to fractional reserve banking, in which banks "create" money by taking in deposits and making loans. The depositor has all his money, while the borrower has new resources.

HOLDING BACK. By reviewing the 1980s in this light, we gain a better understanding of what went wrong with the U.S. economy and what is wrong with the orthodox remedy of increasing the savings rate. For one thing, the supply-side program had perverse results. Affluent investors increased their financial net worth and their share of the nation's wealth, but this increase in their private financial savings did not translate into increased investment. Affluent people failed to fulfill their role as creators of new national productive wealth. Instead, they spent some of their windfall and invested much of the rest in existing financial assets--the shares of existing stocks or in speculative real estate. Conventional accounting of the national income pictures this merely as an inexplicable fall in the savings rate, which misses the point.

In truth, the problem was not on the savings side of the equation, for there was plenty of financial liquidity. The problem was that the people with the money could not discern opportunities to place their savings in new productive investments. One indicator of this reality is the declining interest rates on Treasury securities. Despite the immense public deficit, the Treasury has had no difficulty financing the national debt at relatively moderate interest rates. If there were plenty of opportunities for productive investment in the private sector, the Treasury would be paying more to sell its bonds.

WRONG REWARDS. Several implications flow from this revisionist analysis. First, the deeper problem afflicting the U.S. economy is not a shortage of financial savings but a series of institutional failings. Because of the structure of our financial markets, investors have incentives to invest short term rather than long, and this depresses productive capital formation. Moreover, the banks, one of the key institutions for channeling savings into investment, have been so traumatized by the excesses of the 1980s they are now excessively risk-averse. And they were no match for their German and Japanese counterparts even before the recent real estate blowout. Further, the low global competitiveness of many U.S. industries discourages investors from putting their capital at risk, and the recession intensifies the belief that new investments will not pay off.

Second, we must reconsider economic cause and effect. While investment technically equals savings after the fact, a higher savings rate does not automatically translate into a higher rate of productive investment, particularly when the economy is in recession and beset by institutional problems. Simply increasing the aggregate rate of savings will not cure the institutional defects we've discussed. The conventional recovery strategy is to increase the savings rate and wait for increased investments to follow. But it would be more sensible to cure the institutional problems noted above to make investment more attractive, which in turn would coax out more savings.

Third, the composition of public spending is a key part of the story that is usually left out of the standard analysis. As Heilbroner noted, government spending is not a source of savings or dissavings but rather a use of savings--on either public investment or public consumption. During the 1980s, the composition of public outlay shifted. The federal government spent more money on consumption and on military expenditure and less on civilian investment. If the government had invested more, the deficit would have been more economically useful and less of a drag on performance. One big policy conclusion follows: If very wealthy people are increasing their financial worth but not investing it in productive assets, it would be preferable for the government to tax some of that private windfall and put the proceeds directly into productive public investments.ROBERT KUTTNER

http://www.businessweek.com/stories/1992-05-10/the-problem-isnt-savings-its-the-way-we-invest
 
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