How Keynesianism became a dirty word: not Hayek, the New Deal is the real cause

Noah Smith, now writing regularly for Bloomberg, had a piece on this subject. There are a few good points on how New Keynesians are really followers of Friedman, something Mankiw admitted long ago, and how everybody including conservative economists (meaning GOP economists like John Taylor and Ben Bernanke) are New Keynesians (these would be the potty trained GOP economists, not your supply-side fringe economists like Arthur Laffer). Note that this is essentially correct as pointed out here before, since New Keynesians accept fully Friedman's notion of a natural rate of unemployment, while Keynes explicitly said he wanted to reject the twin concept of a natural rate of interest.

Noah also suggests that Keynes only wanted stabilization policies, and no redistributive policies, which is more open to debate. Keynes was certainly a moderate reformer trying to save capitalism from itself, and was no fan of the Soviet experiment. On the other hand, he was an Asquith liberal, meaning concerned with the expansion of the welfare system, and knew that laissez-faire, if it had advantages in the past, was essentially dead.

In the General Theory (GT) he famously starts chapter 24, on his social philosophy, with the idea that: "the outstanding faults of the economic society in which we live are its failure to provide for full employment and its arbitrary and inequitable distribution of wealth and incomes." That is, income distribution is squarely in the middle of his preoccupations, and the socialization of investment at the center of his solution (let alone the euthanasia of the rentier). Using public investment, and one would imagine taxes, to deal with employment and income distribution, plus compressing the remuneration of rentiers, and keeping low rates of interest to expand the safety net, are not simply stabilization policies.

On the main topic of his piece, however, Noah is simply wrong. He argues that the reason why: "people think Keynesianism is socialism-lite [is] the fault of Keynes’s main intellectual opponent, Friedrich Hayek." First, while it's true that Keynes and Hayek had a few debates in the 1930s (but the key Keynesian author in these debates was actually Sraffa, not Keynes), prompted by Lionel Robbins plan to make the London School of Economics (LSE) an alternative to Cambridge, it is preposterous to say that Hayek was the main intellectual opponent of Keynes. In the GT, it was his own teacher Pigou, and the Marshallian tradition in Cambridge that Keynes was battling. In his personal debates Robertson was certainly more relevant than almost any other conventional (Marshallian) economist. Hayek was irrelevant.

Second, Hayek basically vanished, literally, after the 1940s only to reaper in the 1970s as a result of his dubious "Nobel"/Bank of Sweden's prize (see Sissela Bok's, Myrdal's daughter, story on that topic). By that time Keynes and Keynesianism were already dirty words. Early on Keynesian ideas were associated, fairly or not, with Roosevelt and the New Deal in the US, and then to the war coalition government in the UK, the Beveridge Report and the post-war Labour reforms. Keynesian economists were in many cases persecuted, like Lauchlin Currie, the first economist to work inside the White House, and one of the early Keynesians. But by the 1950s and 1960s (particularly after the Kennedy administration) one kind of Keynesianism was dominant anyway (the Kennedy tax cut and the economists working for his administration are the symbol of the dominance of Keynesian ideas).

So you ask why indeed did Keynesianism become a dirty word? Simply because even if Keynes had differences with Roosevelt (FDR was actually a sound finance guy) and with Labour, his ideas did provide the intellectual basis for New Deal policies, particularly after the 1937-38 recession, and for the expansion of the Welfare State in general. The economists that where against these policies by the 1940s were in the minority. Mont Pelerin is, if anything, prove of their sheer irrelevance. Friedman years later would complain about how ostracized he was (but less than Hayek, since he accepted the ISLM/Phillips curve apparatus of the Neoclassical Synthesis Keynesians; and that's why New Keynesians, who are really followers of Friedman, can say they are Keynesian, by the way). Liberalism, in the US sense of the word, was at its height. But the rise of conservatism (Goldwater was a joke back then) eventually transformed liberalism into a dirty word (that's why we use progressive now rather than liberal).

Hayek was resuscitated very much like conservative ideas. By the big bucks of business leaders and their think tanks that were against the New Deal. The rise of Hayek or of his renewed respectability results from the same forces that explain why Keynesianism and the New Deal kind of welfare policies fell in disrepute, to the point that Niall Ferguson could say that Keynesianism was flawed because Keynes was childless and gay. Oh well.

PS: In fact, the title of this blog is related to the view that Keynesianism is a dirty word, and that some people (Galbraith) unashamedly teach naked Keynesianism to innocent college kids. For more see here.

Yes, The Cambridge Capital Controversies Do Matter

From Unlearning Economics:

I rarely (never) post based solely on a quick thought or quote, but this just struck me as too good not to highlight. It’s from a book called ‘Capital as Power’ by Jonathan Nitzan and Shimshon Bichler, which challenges both the neoclassical and Marxian conceptions of capital, and is freely available online. The passage in question pertains to the way neoclassical economics has dealt with the problems highlighted during the well documented Cambridge Capital Controversies:

The first and most common solution has been to gloss the problem over – or, better still, to ignore it altogether. And as Robinson (1971) predicted and Hodgson (1997) confirmed, so far this solution seems to be working. Most economics textbooks, including the endless editions of Samuelson, Inc., continue to ‘measure’ capital as if the Cambridge Controversy had never happened, helping keep the majority of economists – teachers and students – blissfully unaware of the whole debacle.

A second, more subtle method has been to argue that the problem of quantifying capital, although serious in principle, has limited practical importance (Ferguson 1969). However, given the excessively unrealistic if not impossible assumptions of neoclassical theory, resting its defence on real-world relevance seems somewhat audacious.

The second point is something I independently noticed: appealing to practicality when it suits the modeller, but insisting it doesn’t matter elsewhere. If there is solid evidence that reswitching isn’t important, that’s fine, but then we should also take on board that agents don’t optimise, markets don’t clear, expectations aren’t rational, etc. etc. If we do that, pretty soon the assumptions all fall away and not much is left.

However, it’s the authors’ third point that really hits home:

The third and probably most sophisticated response has been to embrace disaggregate general equilibrium models. The latter models try to describe – conceptually, that is – every aspect of the economic system, down to the smallest detail. The production function in such models separately specifies each individual input, however tiny, so the need to aggregate capital goods into capital does not arise in the first place.

General equilibrium models have serious theoretical and empirical weaknesses whose details have attracted much attention. Their most important problem, though, comes not from what they try to explain, but from what they ignore, namely capital. Their emphasis on disaggregation, regardless of its epistemological feasibility, is an ontological fallacy. The social process takes place not at the level of atoms or strings, but of social institutions and organizations. And so, although the ‘shell’ called capital may or may not consist of individual physical inputs, its existence and significance as the central social aggregate of capitalism is hardly in doubt. By ignoring this pivotal concept, general equilibrium theory turns itself into a hollow formality.

In essence, neoclassical economics dealt with its inability to model capital by…eschewing any analysis of capital. However, the theoretical importance of capital for understanding capitalism (duh) means that this has turned neoclassical ‘theory’ into a highly inadequate took for doing what theory is supposed to do, which is to further our understanding.

Apparently, if you keep evading logical, methodological and empirical problems, it catches up with you! Who knew?

Harry Dexter White, Lauchlin Currie and the Red Scare

In another post I pointed out one (and there are more) of the theoretical problems with Benn Steil's account of the Bretton Woods history. I would also emphasize that there are questionable historical assumptions too in his book. In particular, the book's description of both Harry Dexter White and Lauchlin Currie as Soviet spies is problematic. Steil basically accepts at face value Whitaker Chambers and Elizabeth Bentley's, two self-confesed Soviet agents, testimonies regarding White and Currie, and a certain interpretation about the revelations of the Venona Project after the fall of the Soviet Union (the original New York Times story here; subscription required).

I'm not going to get into the details, but on Currie, Roger Sandilands' paper (subscription required) is quite conclusive in my view suggesting that he did share information with Russians, but was in no way a spy. It is particularly important in this context what John Kenneth Galbraith expressed in a letter to Roger (in the paper cited, p. 99), namely:

"That he was a Soviet agent is, of course, untrue; what is true, is our failure to remember that the Russians in those days were our allies, and taking casualties beyond anything experienced by Americans. It was, in those days, official policy that we offer help, and the Russians could be certain, and rightly, of a warm reception as allies in Washington. As I say, this has now been forgotten; only those of us who were there remember our relief when they came into the War and the way they took casualties and suffering far beyond anything experienced ourselves."

On the White case the book to read is Bruce Craig's Treasonable Doubt that also suggests that the case against him is at best inconclusive, indicating that the information he shared with the Russian allies was not part of a espionage operation. This indicates that, while they passed information to Soviet agents, they did not intentionally betray the US national interests. As Julius Kobyakov, a Russian intelligence agent, suggested here: "Among the members of my profession there is a sacramental question: 'Does he know that he is our agent?' There is very strong indication that neither Currie nor White knew that."

On this very topic is worth noticing what Steil himself tells us about White regarding Bretton Woods negotiations. According to him: "White wanted to make the US dollar, and only the US dollar, synonymous with gold, which would give the US government a virtual free hand to set interest rates and other monetary conditions at will -- not just for the United States, but for the world." In other words, he put US interests above anything else in the Bretton Woods negotiations, something that would make the International Monetary Fund (IMF), an institution that owes more to White than Keynes, a tool of US interests and for creditor countries in general. If he was a Soviet spy then he had his priorities upside down, or was a terrible spy.

In more general terms, I would add, it seems that the line of attack on some New Dealers, like Currie and White, tainting them as Reds or fellow travelers, is not very different from the indictment of Keynes's ideas on the basis of his sexual orientation, recently brought to general attention in the Niall Ferguson case. One cannot trust the childless-gay-commie is the not so subtle message. If you cannot attack the ideas, go for the messengers' credibility, that's the right wing nut fringe strategy.

PS: Currie and White are only the tip of the iceberg. Svetlana Chervonnaya argues, convincingly, in a paper that Alger Hiss was not the Ales of the Venona documents, and that the case that he was a spy is also open. In the Rosenberg case, the Schneirs argue that while it is clear that Julius was a spy, a low level one that did not pass any relevant information on the bomb, it is also clear that she wasn't and that the US government knew it. If the US had given him the same treatment than other spies got, with similar offenses, he would have gotten a few years of jail time, and she should have not been accused at all. On the effects of this travesty of justice on the family it's worth watching the beautiful documentary by Ivy Meeropol Heir to an Execution.

In the long run we are NOT all dead

Niall Ferguson has apologized for his offensive suggestion that Keynes' phrase on being dead in the long run was somehow related to his sexuality or the fact that he was childless (more here and here). Good for him. Note, however, that in that famous phrase from the Tract on Monetary Reform, from 1923, Keynes was still very much a conventional Marshallian author who thought that full employment would reassert itself, and that the Quantity Theory of Money (QTM) worked pretty well. In fact, it is often said that the Tract was Milton Friedman's favorite among all of Keynes' books.

The full quote says:

"But this long run is a misleading guide to current affairs. In the long run we are all dead. Economists set themselves too easy, too useless a task if in tempestuous seasons they can only tell us that when the storm is long past the ocean is flat again."

The point of the quote is that in the long run everything would be fine, since markets do get to full employment, and so, even without intervention, deflation and inflation do its magic, but the process is too long and painful, so it would be more reasonable to act in the short run. This was typical of the Cambridge version of Marginalism, which was very much in favor of government intervention to deal with market imperfections in the short run. This is true of Marshal and Pigou, as well as Robertson, and certainly Keynes, before the General Theory. Note that this does not mean, as most people think, that one should only be concerned with the short run. The point is that action in the short run facilitates the road towards the fully adjusted equilibrium in the long run.

This was still essentially Keynes' view by 1930, when he published the Treatise on Money, a book that is at heart Wicksellian [so at least he got rid of the QTM in this book], and that suggests that unemployment results from a monetary rate of interest that is too high with respect to the natural rate, in practice as a result from the Gold Standard rules, which Keynes wanted to abandon. [This precedes the modern views that the Gold Standard caused the Depression, by the way, as say defended by Barry Eichengreen]. This was a cyclical crisis that could be solved by reducing the monetary rate of interest, and in the short run employment programs, something Keynes defended in Can Lloyd George Do It?

The point of the General Theory (GT) is that there is no natural rate of interest, meaning that reducing the rate of interest would not bring investment to the full employment level of savings, and that the crisis was caused by lack of demand. The equilibrium between investment and savings was determined by variations in the level of output, and in the long run we are not self adjusted to full employment. Hence, the very logic of the phrase above is debunked by Keynes, when he became Keynesian, so to speak, and got rid of the old modes of thinking. Intervention is not needed because in the long run we are dead, but because the long run depends on the short run, and we tend to fluctuate around a sub-optimal position.

So in the long run we are NOT dead in the GT, in the absence of counter-cyclical policies we are all in deep trouble. In other words, Keynes was very much concerned about the possibility of capitalism to promote well being for all in the long run. In other words, not only is Ferguson wrong about the effects of Keynes' sexuality and lack of children on his economic reasoning, but he does not even get the point of the phrase.

PS: The best book to understand the theoretical changes in Keynes' views is still Edward Amadeo's  Keynes' Principle of Effective Demand, his PhD dissertation, supervised by Murray Milgate, and co-supervised by Lance Taylor, published with an intro by Vicky Chick.