We can't escape a carbon tax, which is good news, not bad

When economists are at their best, they speak truth to power. And that’s just what two of our best economists, Professor Ross Garnaut and Rod Sims, did this week. In their own polite way, they spoke out against the blatant self-interest of our (largely foreign-owned) fossil fuel industry.

They sought to counter the decade of damage done by the former federal Liberal government which, for short-sighted political gain, engaged in populist demonisation of Julia Gillard’s carbon tax.

And, by their willingness to call for a new “carbon solution levy”, they shamed the present Labor government, which dare not even mention a carbon price and isn’t game to take more than baby steps in the right direction, for fear of what Peter Dutton might say.

But the two men’s message is actually far more positive than that. In launching a new think tank, the Superpower Institute, they pursue Garnaut’s vision of how we can turn the threat of climate change into an opportunity to revitalise our economy, raising our productivity and our living standards.

Sims, former boss of the competition watchdog, says that, following a decade of stagnant production per person, real wages and living standards, Australia’s full participation in the world’s move to achieve net-zero global emissions is the only credible path to restoring productivity improvement and rising living standards.

Climate change is a threat to our climate, obviously. But it’s also a threat to our livelihood because Australia is one of the world’s largest exporters of fossil fuels. Garnaut points out that, as the rest of the world moves to renewables, two of our three largest export industries will phase out.

This will send our productivity backwards, he notes – as all the big-business people reading us lectures about productivity never do.

The good news, however, is that “putting Australia back on a path to rising productivity and living standards doesn’t mean going back to the way things were”. It’s now clear that “Australia’s advantages in the emerging zero-carbon world economy are so large that they define the most credible path to restoration of growth in Australian living standards.”

Garnaut says that “In designing policies to secure our own decarbonisation, we now have to give a large place to Australia’s opportunity to be the renewable energy superpower of the zero-carbon world economy.”

Other countries do not share our natural endowments of wind and solar energy resources, land to deploy them, as well as land to grow “biomass” – plant material – sustainably as an alternative to petroleum and coal for the manufacture of chemicals.

From a cost perspective, we are the natural location to produce a substantial proportion of the products presently made with large carbon emissions in North-East Asia and Europe.

The Superpower Institute champions a “market-based” solution to the climate challenge. We shouldn’t be following the Americans by funding the transition from budget deficits, nor become inward looking and protectionist.

Rather, everything that can be left to competitive markets should be, while everything that only governments can do – providing “public goods” and regulating natural monopolies – should be done by the government.

Sims notes a truth that, since Tony Abbott’s successful demonisation of the carbon tax, neither side of politics wants to acknowledge, that markets only work effectively if firms are required to pay the costs that their activities impose on others and, on the other hand, if firms are rewarded for the benefits their activities confer on others.

When the producers of fossil fuels don’t bear the cost of the damage their emissions of greenhouse gasses do to the climate, and the producers of renewable energy don’t enjoy the monetary benefit of not damaging the environment, these two “externalities” – one bad, the other good – constitute “market failure”.

And the way to make the market work as it should is for the government to use some kind of “price on carbon” – whether a literal tax on carbon, or its close cousin, an emissions trading scheme – to internalise those two externalities to the prices paid by fossil fuel producers and received by renewables producers.

The price on carbon that Garnaut and Sims want, their “carbon solution levy”, would be imposed on all emissions from Australian produced fossil fuel (whether those emissions occurred here or in the country that imported the fuel from us) and from any fossil fuel we imported.

Only about 100 businesses would pay the levy directly, though they would pass it on to their customers, of course. It would be levied at the rate of recent carbon emission permits in the European Union’s emissions trading scheme.

Imposing the levy on all our exports of fossil fuel, rather than just our own emissions, makes the scheme far bigger than the one Abbott scuttled in 2014. It would raise about $100 billion a year.

But it’s bigger to take account of the Europeans’ “carbon border adjustment mechanism” which, from 2026, will impose a tax on all fossil fuels imported from Australia that haven’t already been taxed.

Get it? If we don’t tax our fossil fuel exports, the Europeans or some other government will do it for us – and keep the proceeds.

What will we do with the proceeds of our levy? Most of them will go to a “superpower innovation scheme” that makes grants to support early investors in each of our new, green export industries. In this way it will lower the prices of carbon-free steel, aluminium and other products, helping them compete against the equivalent polluting products. The positive externality internalised.

Garnaut says we need to have the new levy introduced by 2031 at the latest. But the earlier it can be done, the more of the levy’s proceeds can be used to provide cost-of-living relief of, say $300 a year, to every household and business, as well as fully compensating for the levy’s effect on electricity prices.

Thank heavens some of our economists are working on smart ways to fix our problems while our politicians play political games.

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Why populism hasn't taken off in Australia

One good thing about taking a break from work is that it gives you time to let your mind wander from all the pressing concerns of our fast-moving world – the preoccupation with this “crisis” and that “crisis” – to less immediate but more important problems. And it helps if you’ve used the time to read a good book or two.

On my recent long break – soon to be followed, I fear, by my summer holiday – I read The Crisis of Democratic Capitalism, by Martin Wolf. Wolf is the chief economics commentator of the Financial Times in London, and the global doyen of my tiny profession of economics editors.

Wolf has two worries. Democracy isn’t working well and neither is capitalism.

He sees many signs that faith in democracy is declining and voters are turning to authoritarian demagogues peddling populist solutions to difficult problems.

You can see that in the election of Donald Trump and the even more remarkable possibility that this self-serving con man could be given another turn at the wheel. You see it in Britain’s self-harming decision to leave the European Union.

And you see the rise of right-wing populism in an ever-growing number of European countries – from Hungary to the Netherlands, not to mention in South America – much of it involving resentment of immigrants, particularly Muslims, and the search for scapegoats.

Turning to capitalism, there is much dissatisfaction with the evident failure of “neoliberalism” – the doctrine that less government and more freedom for business is the path to prosperity.

The privatisation of government-owned businesses has often made things worse rather than better. The contracting of private businesses to provide government services hasn’t helped. Nor has the use of private consultants rather than the public service.

Wolf argues that the poor performance of the economy is the main explanation for the rise of populism in the rich democracies.

The global financial crisis of 2008 led to much disillusionment. Particularly in America, deregulation of the banks left them free to make many bad loans, but when the house of cards collapsed and plunged the advanced economies into the Great Recession, billions of taxpayers’ dollars had to be used to bail out the banks, but the bankers escaped unpunished.

Leaving aside the temporary disruption of the pandemic, the advanced economies have never since returned to healthy growth and rising living standards.

Then there’s globalisation. It has moved much manufacturing activity from America and Europe to China and other Asian countries, to the great benefit of consumers of manufactured goods throughout the rich world.

It lifted many millions of workers out of poverty in Asia, while robbing many American workers of their well-paid jobs in manufacturing.

Governments could easily have used their budgets to require those of us who benefited from cheaper cars, clothing and all the rest to compensate and help those who lost their jobs but, in the era of neoliberalism, they didn’t bother.

It was the decisions of the former blue-collar workers of the rust belt states to move their votes from Democrat to Trump that pushed him across the line in 2016.

Wolf says, “people expect the economy to deliver reasonable levels of prosperity and opportunity to themselves and their children”. When it doesn’t fulfil those expectations “they become frustrated and resentful”.

“Instead ... it has generated soaring inequality, dead-end jobs and [economic] instability.”

Whether you look at politics or the economy you see we’re moving to a plutocracy – government by the rich and powerful. You see powerful – but often harmful – industries buying favourable treatment with generous donations to political parties.

And you see the way our chief executive class has increased its remuneration out of all comparison, while holding down the wages of their fellow employees.

But Wolf’s story applies more fully to America, Britain and Europe than it does to us. While it’s true that living standards in Australia have hardly risen for the past decade, things here haven’t been as bad.

Our one great would-be populist saviour, Pauline Hanson, hasn’t got far. Our two big parties’ problems have been with the Greens and teals.

And while our incomes have become more unequal over the decades, they haven’t worsened much in the past two decades – except at the very top.

Part of that lack of deterioration is owed to our system of regularly – and fairly generously – increasing minimum award wages.

Another saviour has been the Labor governments’ umbilical cord to the union movement, something not matched by America’s Democrats.

Anthony Albanese hasn’t seemed terribly brave on many issues, but last week he pressed on with closing the legal loopholes employers have long been using to chisel their workers, against ferocious opposition from the (big) Business Council, the Mining Council and the employer groups.

According to them, Labor’s changes will destroy many jobs and kill the economy. Don’t stay up waiting for it to happen.

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How economists got it wrong for so long

Most economists are great believers in the need for "reform" – for other people, not themselves. Over the past 30 or 40 years, no profession has had more influence over the policies governments have pursued, but the results have hardly been flash.

Even the lightning speed at which an epidemic in part of China became a pandemic reaching every corner of the globe can be blamed in large part on the globalisation that economists long championed.

After the unmitigated disaster of the global financial crisis of 2008 – which the economists not only failed to foresee, but did much to help bring about by their advocacy of deregulated financial markets – many people assumed this would force the economists, shamefaced, back to the drawing board.

It didn't happen. But the poor performance of economies in the decade following the Great Recession hasn't allowed the more intellectually honest among the world's economists to delude themselves that all's well with their theories and policy prescriptions.

At present, politicians and policymakers are preoccupied with suppressing the virus and countering the coronacession this effort has led to. Economists are worried about the depth of this recession, and are warning politicians that they'll need to spend (and borrow) unprecedented sums to bring about a sustainable recovery.

A big part of the economists' concern arises from their knowledge that deep, structural problems had caused the rich economies to be in a weak state before the arrival of the virus. This suggests that, without an extraordinary effort by governments, the recovery is likely to be slow, with unemployment staying high.

Worse, the "normal" to which we return after the virus has been fully vanquished isn't likely to be nearly as good as the normal we remember. Not only will material living standards be improving at a glacial pace, but there'll be continuing, maybe worsening, social conflict (not to mention a worsening climate).

The good news, however, is that leading thinkers among the world's economists are still grappling with the embarrassing question of why their profession's advice over many decades seems to have made our lives worse rather than better.

I'm just back from a couple of weeks catching up on my reading. I noticed several books by well-known economists coming to similar conclusions about how the ideas of "neoliberalism", which dominated economic advice to governments for so long, led us astray.

In their book Greed is Dead, two leading British economics professors, Paul Collier and John Kay, both from Oxford, argue that the problem with what they (and I) prefer to call "market fundamentalism" – which oversimplifies and takes too literally the basic model of how markets work – is its overemphasis on the role of competition between self-interested individuals in generating economic progress.

By sanctifying selfishness, it has undermined community-mindedness and the role of co-operation in advancing our mutual interests. Voting has become a simple matter of "what's in it for me and mine", while businesses and industries have been licensed to lobby for preferment at the expense of everyone else.

"In recent decades the balance between these instincts [of competition and co-operation] has become dangerously skewed: mutuality has been undermined by an extreme individualism which has weakened co-operation and polarised our politics," they say.

In his book, The Third Pillar, Raghuram Rajan – a US-based Indian economist who did foresee the global financial crisis, but was told by his elders and betters not to be so stupid – argues that society is supported by two obvious pillars, the state and markets, but also by a neglected third pillar: the community. That is, the social aspects of society.

"Many of the economic and political concerns today across the world, including the rise of populist nationalism and radical movements of the Left, can be traced to the diminution of the community," he says.

"The state and markets have expanded their powers and reach in tandem, and left the community relatively powerless to face the full and uneven brunt of technological change. Importantly, the solutions to many of our problems are to be found in bringing dysfunctional communities back to health."

In his book, The Common Good, Robert Reich defines his subject as "our shared values about what we owe one another as citizens who are bound together in the same society – the norms we voluntarily abide by, and the ideals we seek to achieve".

Since the late 1970s, however, Americans have talked less about the common good and more about self-aggrandisement; less "we're all in it together" and more "you're on your own". There's been "growing cynicism and distrust toward all the basic institutions of American society – governments, the media, corporations" and more.

But the last, more hopeful words go to Collier and Kay: "We see no inherent tension between community and market: markets can function effectively only when embedded in a network of social relations.

"Humans are not selfish, maximising individuals, pursuing their conception of happiness; they seek fulfilment which arises largely from their interaction with others – in families, in streets and villages, at work."

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Lure of globalisation battles our instinctive tribalism

What has caused the rise in populism that's threatening the mainstream political parties around the developed world, including here?

Economists tend to explain it essentially in economic terms – the bottom has been given a rough deal for years, and finally is rising up – but other scholars see it much more in social and cultural terms: people objecting to being overrun by incomers. Immigrants, asylum seekers, Mexicans, Muslims, Asians.

In his new book for the Lowy Institute, Choosing Openness, Parliament's most accomplished economist, Dr Andrew Leigh, also Labor's shadow assistant treasurer, readily acknowledges the role of xenophobia in explaining why "openness makes us uncomfortable".

He sees our fear of foreigners as part of our evolutionary make-up, and I don't doubt he's right.

Drawing on the work of British anthropologist Robin Dunbar, he argues that "for most of history, humans lived in groups of about 150 people" – a figure known as "Dunbar's number".

Such groups were big enough for some specialisation, but small enough for everyone to know and trust everyone else. People were born, mated, hunted and died within their small community.

"In this environment, there were two kinds of people: those in your tribe and those not in your tribe," Leigh says.

"It made sense to take care of your tribal members. You shared a lifelong relationship with them. Thanks to inbreeding, the rest of the tribe probably looked a lot like you and you certainly all dressed alike.

"Conversely, outsiders were likely to look a bit different and were probably dangerous. While some groups traded, killing was extremely common."

One in seven people in these kinds of societies met their end as a result of violence by another person, he says.

For about 99 per cent of the time that homo sapiens have been on the planet, most of us have lived in small groups. As a species, that is what we evolved to do.

"Each of us is here today because our primitive ancestors were skilled at either fighting outsiders or avoiding conflict. The rule that 'different equals dangerous' kept our forebears alive."

But while hunkering down in the face of difference might have been a useful evolutionary strategy in the past, the growth of cities changed the equation, Leigh argues.

Cities are bound together by not by familial relationships, but by rules and norms of acceptable behaviour.

For hundreds of years, the most productive cities have been those that welcome visitors. In a primitive tribe, a dislike of difference can keep you alive. In a city, it's likely to just make you poorer.

"In this sense, a distrust of diversity is a bit like wisdom teeth – an evolutionary vestige that once helped us grind up plants, but now are more likely to take us on a trip to the dentist's chair."

Today's backlash against openness, Leigh argues, shows how humans' natural discomfort with difference can be exploited for political gain.

In a seminal study of the politics of hatred, the Harvard authority on urban economics Edward Glaeser noted that the key to building a powerful coalition around hate is to focus voters' anger on an "out group" that is sufficiently large to be taken seriously as a threat, but too small to be electorally decisive.

Remind you of any redheads you know?

So Leigh says that populism – the idea that politics is a conflict between the pure mass of people and a small vile elite – is the product of four main forces.

First, slow growth in living standards when the proceeds of economic growth haven't been shared.

"In societies where prosperity is broadly shared, a cosmopolitan outlook steadily replaces traditional values of religion, deference to authority, and an exclusive focus on the security of our family and tribe," he says.

Second, populism is fostered by the pace at which society and technology are changing. Voters may turn to extreme politics as a way of saying "Stop the world – I want to get off."

Third, populism has benefited from canny political entrepreneurs – Duterte, Erdogan, Trump – able to generate massive free media coverage by attacking rivals and breaking taboos.

Fourth, populism has grown because of a loss of faith in mainstream centrist parties. (Their ever-declining standards of behaviour would have nothing to do with this, of course.)

In the late 1960s, seven out of 10 Australians said they always voted for the same party. Today, the share of party loyalists is down to four in 10.

Seems to me that, though much of the problem is manifest in fear of foreigners, the best way to strengthen cosmopolitan values is to ensure the benefits of globalisation and technological change are shared more fairly.

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How economic neglect has fed the populist revolt

Recent political shocks – Brexit, Trump and the failure of Theresa May – are prompting much soul-searching and rethinking among the world's leading economists.

Last week, for instance, Ben Bernanke, former chairman of the US Federal Reserve, gave a speech to a forum of the European Central Bank in which he admitted that "recent political events" had "cast a bright light on some disturbing economic and social trends in the United States".

"Unfortunately, policymakers in recent decades have been slow to address or even to recognise these trends, an error of omission that has helped fuel the voters' backlash," he said.

"If the populist surge we are seeing today has an upside, it is to refocus attention on both the moral necessity and practical benefits of helping people cope with the economic disruptions that accompany growth."

It's true that the American economy's cyclical recovery has entered its ninth year and appears to have room to run, Bernanke says.

Although the Great Recession was exceptionally deep and the recovery was slow, real gross domestic product is now up about 12.5 per cent from its pre-crisis peak and real disposable income is up more than 13 per cent.

Since the trough in employment in early 2010, more than 16 million new jobs have been created – compared with a workforce of about 160 million – bringing the rate of unemployment down from 10 per cent to 4.3 per cent, its lowest since 2001.

Fine. But Bernanke's new insight is in the title of his speech, "When growth is not enough".

Americans seem exceptionally dissatisfied with the economy and have been for some time, he says. Those who tell pollsters that the economy is "on the wrong track" consistently outnumber those who believe that America is moving "in the right direction" by about two to one.

Bernanke highlights four "worrying trends" that help explain the sour mood. First, stagnant earnings for the median worker.

"Since 1979, real output per person in the US has expanded by a cumulative 80 per cent, and yet during that time, median weekly earnings of full-time workers have grown by only about 7 per cent in real terms."

And almost all of that tiny growth is explained by higher wages and working hours for women. For male workers, real median weekly earnings have actually declined since 1979.

So despite economic growth, the middle class is struggling to maintain its standard of living.

Second, declining economic and social mobility. One of the pillars of America's self-image is the idea of the American Dream, that anyone can rise to the top based on determination and hard work.

But upward economic mobility in the US appears to have declined notably since World War II. One study of census figures found that 90 per cent of Americans born in the 1940s would eventually earn more than their parents did, but only about 50 per cent of those born in the 1980s would do so.

The trend to increased inequality of income and wealth is worse in the US than other advanced economies. This tends to impede economic mobility by increasing the relative educational and social advantages of people in the upper percentiles.

Third, increasing social dysfunction in economically distressed areas and demographic groups. Studies show that rates of midlife mortality among white working-class Americans (those with only a high-school education) have worsened sharply relative to other groups.

These are often "deaths of despair" because of their association with declines in indicators of economic and social wellbeing and the important role played by factors such as opioid addiction, alcoholism and suicide.

Indeed, in 2015, more Americans died of drug overdoses than died from car accidents and firearms-related accidents and crimes combined.

Among the most worrying economic trends is the decline in labour force participation among prime-age men – 25 to 54 – from 97 per cent in 1960 to 88 per cent today. The fall has occurred across demographic groups (an American euphemism for racial groups).

Studies suggest most of these men are idle – neither looking for work nor caring for family members. One part of the explanation is that America's high rate of incarceration leaves many men, particularly African-Americans, with prison records, which hurts their employment opportunities for many years.

Fourth, greater political alienation and distrust of institutions, both public and private. Americans generally have little confidence in the ability of government, especially the federal government, to fairly represent their interests, let alone solve their problems.

"Stagnant median wages, limited upward mobility, social dysfunction and political alienation are a toxic mix indeed. The sources of these adverse trends are complex and interrelated. But at a fifty-thousand-foot level, they appear to be the product of some broad global developments ... together with the US policy response (or lack thereof) to those developments," Bernanke says.

Missing from the response was a comprehensive set of policies aimed at helping individuals and localities adjust to the difficult combination of slower growth and rapid economic change.

Whatever the reason for this failure, "it's clear in retrospect that a great deal more could have been done, for example, to expand job training and re-training opportunities, especially for the less educated; to provide transition assistance for displaced workers, including support for internal migration; to mitigate residential and educational segregation and increase to access of those left behind to employment and educational opportunities; to promote community redevelopment, through grants, infrastructure construction and other means; and to address serious social ills through addiction programs, criminal justice reform and the like".

Bernanke concludes that "the credibility of economists has been damaged by our insufficient attention, over the years, to the problems of economic adjustment and by our proclivity towards top-down, rather than bottom-up, policies.

"Nevertheless, as a profession we have expertise that can help make the policy response more effective, and I think we have a responsibility to contribute where we can."

That's putting it mildly.

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Too many stuff-ups about to put economic reform into reverse

I have bad news and worse for advocates of micro-economic reform. First, the jig is up. There'll be few if any further major reforms. Second, the backlash against mounting wreckage from failed reforms is about to begin.

Since the reform push has degenerated into little more than business rent-seeking – let's cut tax on business and increase it on consumers; let's push the legislated balance of power in industrial relations further in favour of employers – it's neither surprising nor regrettable that voters have called a halt.

Micro reform has lost all credibility with voters. Most oppose company tax cuts for big business, cuts in penalty rates and a freeze on the minimum wage. Neither side of politics will pursue these "reforms" with any enthusiasm.

Economic rationalists will blame all this on irrational populism, but if they were more honest with themselves they'd admit the economic case for bizonomic​ reforms – what's good for business must be good for the economy – is debatable and often unconvincing.

And who could blame the public for holding economists accountable for all the stuff-ups committed in the name of reform over the years: the implosion of the deregulated wool price scheme, the wasteful public-private partnerships, the dubious effectiveness of the Job Network, the disastrous admission of for-profit providers of childcare.

The dodgy education businesses selling access to permanent residence to foreign students, the "contestable" pink batts scheme, the failure of encouraging competition between government and private schools, the huge rip-offs of students and taxpayers arising from federal and state efforts to make vocational education and training "contestable", the privatisation of airports and ports with their monopolies intact.

Economic rationalists are so heavily into confirmation bias they've managed not to notice this record of disasters, but they'll be hard pressed not to see the next one, when for-profit providers rip off the disabled in the name of making the National Disability Insurance Scheme "contestable".

Last week the former high priest of micro reform (and Productivity Commission boss) Gary Banks attacked a politician for daring to blame the failures of energy policy on the private sector's lack of enterprise.

Leaving aside his one-eyed criticism of government subsidies for renewable energy (while just happening not to notice the implicit subsidy of fossil-fuel generators arising from the absence of a price on carbon), Banks was right.

The blame must go to the econocrats who designed the national electricity market and the politicians who took their advice.

That we've gone from about the cheapest to about the dearest electricity – and that without a price on carbon – can be blamed on the malfunctioning of micro reform.

The "market" is the utterly artificial creation of government, run by several government agencies with a 6000-page rule book, responsible to a committee of nine governments.

The reformers' wholesale electricity market seemed to be working well, but now lacks the flexibility to cope with energy emergencies. The price regulation of largely privatised natural monopoly network operators was gamed for years before the regulators woke up, and price competition between electricity retailers is weak and margins high.

Historically, economic rationalists under-rate market failure, but are highly conscious of "government failure" – where government intervention intended to correct market failures ends up making things worse.

This is the rationale for micro reform. Governments have mixed objectives, with little motivation to keep things efficient. Much better to leave it to the private sector, driven by the profit motive to put efficiency above all else.

Really? Economic rationalists and econocrats are naive, partly because many of them have never actually worked for the private sector, and are shocked to discover how powerful is the profit motive in motivating business people to game the system, look for loopholes and, far too often, simply break the law.

Private businesses are always overbidding for privatised businesses and underbidding for contracts to provide government services. Governments think this is terrific, until the businesses wake up to their error and try to extract some profit by overcharging or cutting quality, exploiting the incomplete contracts they signed.

Much of this is bureaucratic incompetence, but it's also conservative governments seeing privatisation and out-sourcing in partisan rather than efficiency terms: it's about moving economic assets and activities from the "them" column to the "us" column, so more businesses are beholden to your party and happy to donate.

Turns out the push to reduce "government failure" has produced reverse government failure. We start out trying to stop government intervention to correct market failure that's making things worse, but end up making them worse than they already were.

Then we wonder why the punters want no more "reform".

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Our politicians go populist at their peril

If I were an Australian politician I'd think hard about the ascension of Donald Trump before I drew conclusions for local consumption.

When someone so unattractive surprises us by winning, it's tempting to conclude he must have done so because of a massive surge of anger over immigrants, Muslims and jobs lost through trade agreements.

We connect this with the Brexit surprise and the resurrection of One Nation and conclude we're witnessing a worldwide populist uprising against globalisation and "neo-liberalism".

Pollies on both sides wonder whether they should protect their backs by reverting to more protectionist policies, rejecting more Chinese investment and shouting louder about Australia-first.

But such a reaction much exaggerates the popularity of populism in America – as is clearer now more of the vote has been counted.

First, note that Hillary Clinton got over a million votes more than Donald Trump did. He actually got fewer votes than Mitt Romney in 2012 and John McCain in 2008.

How is such a wide discrepancy between the popular vote and the electoral college result possible? Because the many smaller states get a disproportionate number of votes in the college.

So Trump won because he got more votes in the right places – three or four smaller "swing states" in the midwest Rust Belt, which normally vote Democrat.

It's true Trump won these states because enough white males without college educations found his plain-talking and promise to "make America great again" – that is, bring jobs back to the Rust Belt – more attractive than establishing a Clinton dynasty.

But let's not kid ourselves America is seeing a nation-wide upsurge in populist protectionism, any more than One Nation's ability to exploit an ill-judged double dissolution represents an existential threat to Labor or the Coalition.

Next, remember populist sentiments can't be satisfied. They're about the expression of emotion – anger, frustration, envy, fear of foreigners, resentment of city-slickers and the better-educated – not about rational choices.

They're about wishing the world hadn't changed and wishing some saviour could change it back.

Populism is about ignoring the things that have changed for the good – such as much lower prices for clothes, groceries, hardware, electronic goods, cars and much else – and assuming we can reverse the changes we don't like without losing the benefits we've come to take for granted.

Populism is about explaining the decline in employment in manufacturing, and the shift in economic activity from the Rust Belt to the Sun Belt, solely in terms of free-trade agreements – which were made by governments and so supposedly can be reversed – while ignoring the much greater role played by technological change, which happened in spite of governments and can't be stopped by governments.

It's perfectly possible for America to make no further trade agreements, but only an American could delude themselves that their government could tear up longstanding agreements with other countries while those countries sucked it up.

Protectionist moves lead to retaliation by your trading partners. That leaves both sides worse off.

Consider all the wild promises Trump made to con the Rust Belt's white male workers into voting for him: a wall along the Mexican border, a 35 per cent tariff on Mexican imports and 45 per cent on Chinese imports, plus renegotiation of the North American free-trade agreement.

Assuming he wanted to, he can't actually do these things. Assuming somehow he could, they wouldn't fix the problem the way his dupes imagine, while introducing a new set of problems.

This says it won't be long before the Rust Belt's plain talkers realise they've been conned.

Add to them the majority that didn't want him in first place, and the many who held their nose and voted Republican because they couldn't stomach any Democrat, and it's not hard to see Trump setting records for the time it takes a president to become thoroughly on the nose.

Sound like a winning formula for our pollies to copy? Since populism fosters aspirations that can't be satisfied, it's suited to new, minor parties, but a high-risk tactic for parties that stand a chance of getting to government and having to deliver on the expectations raised.

None of this says the Rust Belt revolters don't have legitimate grievances.

A small group of business heavies and well-educated city-slickers has grabbed almost all the benefits from the structural change that's so disadvantaged the rust-belters, without governments – even Democrat majorities – doing much to oblige the winners to share with the losers.

For once in their lives, rather than going lower when they see the Yanks go lower, our pollies should, to quote Michelle Obama, "go high when they go low".

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