Doing health admin on the cheap may mean things go wrong

In my game, where you spend years watching the antics of politicians and bureaucrats from a ringside seat – say, watching the inquiry into Victoria's tragic hotel quarantine debacle – you tend to become cynical. But not as cynical as a gym buddy of mine, who's had much experience of such inquisitions.

He says that when everyone's denying having made the fateful decision, but saying they don't know who did make it, it's usually a sign they're trying not to dob in the boss.

It's possible the boss in question was now-departed health minister Jenny Mikakos, but I doubt it. Bureaucrats from one department don't usually cover for some other department's minister.

One thing I've noticed over the years is that when the hue and cry is closing in on the really big political boss, it's not surprising to see someone else take the dive on their behalf. If it's a public servant writing the so-sorry-I-misled-you-prime-minister letter, they can expect to be looked after in their next appointment. When it's another minister, it's usually less congenial.

The inquiry revealed various instances of ministers claiming not to have been briefed by their departments. So, the Sir Humphreys work it out themselves and let their ministers know later? Don't believe it. The days of Yes, Minister are long gone.

These days, department heads – federal and state – are sacked so often that senior public servants live in fear of displeasing their minister. How might that happen? If you told them something they'd prefer to be able to say they hadn't been told. Or even if you gave them advice that really annoyed them.

As so often happens, what was missing from the quarantine inquiry's proceedings was acknowledgment of the role of ministerial staffers. They're invisible, apparently. These days, much communication between a department and its minister goes via the staffers. They decide what's too trivial, inconvenient or potentially embarrassing to be passed on.

In all the toing and froing before the inquiry, you may have noticed a lot of witnesses declining to accept responsibility for "collective decision-making" decisions. Such evasion of responsibility is one of the besetting sins of public servants. Their political masters ought to put a stop to it. Which they would – were they not too busy playing the same game.

Back to the search for a guilty party. In Canberra lore, conspiracies are always trumped by stuff-ups. So I don't find it hard to believe that no one in particular made the decision to outsource the running of hotel quarantine to private contractors. It really was a decision that, in Scott Morrison's memorable phrase, "made itself".

It was taken without much thought or discussion because "that's what we always do". Outsourcing the provision of public services has become so ubiquitous no one thought of doing it any other way.

You may think that outsourcing the delivery of public services to for-profit providers – a form of privatisation – must be the bright idea of some naive economist, and you'd be right. Actually, half right.

An economist who's put much thought into government "contracting out", Oliver Hart, of Harvard, demonstrated that it was a good idea if your goal is to cut costs, but a bad idea if you care about maintaining the quality of the service.

This is because of a problem economists call "incomplete contracts". It's humanly impossible to write a contract that covers every problem that could arise and every way the contractor could game the contract at your expense. When you deliver the service yourself, you retain control over quality. Hart was awarded the Nobel prize for his sagacity.

Outsourcing is hugely fashionable in business as well as government. In my experience, it's always about saving money in the fond hope any loss of quality won't be noticed.

Often, the saving comes from ending the good wages and conditions you pay your own workers by sacking them and sending them down the road to work for some contractor on lower pay and worse conditions. It's a way of side-stepping successful unions.

In the public sector, however, another attraction of outsourcing is that it blurs lines of responsibility. "The contractors are giving you a hard time? Blame them, not me." "You'd like to see the contract I've made with the supplier? Sorry, commercial in confidence."

Truth is, governments at both levels and of both colours have gone for years saving money by contracting out wherever possible and imposing annual "efficiency dividends" (an Orwellian term for public service redundancies).

They've given us government on the cheap because they believed we'd prefer a tax cut to decent service. They could have striven to give us better government – including government that was big on accountability and where lines of responsibility were clear – but they settled for cheaper government.

They've spent decades cutting corners in a hundred ways, hoping we wouldn't notice (or do no more than grumble about) the slow decline in quality. Now the pandemic has caught them out. Pity so many lives were lost in getting the message through.

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Budget warning: more rent-seeking won't create jobs

While we wait to see next week’s budget, think about this: economists must shoulder much of the blame for past "reforms" that ended up doing more harm than good. But more of the blame should go to the politicians who allowed lobbying by generous industries to subvert reform and turn it into rent-seeking, or worse.

Lefty academics who bang on about the evils of what they love calling "neoliberalism" seem to see it as some kind of conspiracy between the economics profession and big business.

There’s some truth to this – after all, many economic practitioners work for or produce "independent" consultant reports for big business. But the old rule from politics applies: what may look like a conspiracy is more likely to be just a stuff-up.

The term neoliberalism – a pompous, hipster word only a "problematic" academic could love – conceals more truth than it reveals. The words we used in Australia when this way of thinking became dominant in the 1980s were "economic rationalism" in pursuit of "micro-economic reform" – the very thing Productivity Commission boss Michael Brennan advocated a return to in a speech last week.

The more revealing label, however, is the one preferred by two leading British economics professors, Paul Collier and John Kay, in their new and enlightening book, Greed is Dead: "market fundamentalism".

The economic rationalist thinking that drove extensive economic policy change in the ‘80s and ‘90s took the profession’s ubiquitous neo-classical, demand-and-supply model of how markets work and assumed it was all you needed to know about how the economy worked.

It thus overemphasised the role of competition between "self-interested" (selfish, greedy) individuals, but underestimated the role of co-operation and community spirit and the importance of touchy-feely things such as job security, loyalty and our trust in economic and political institutions in making the economy work well.

The simple model’s assumption that all individuals and firms unfailingly act with full foresight of their best interests implies that government intervention is unnecessary and may well make things worse.

So the greatest crime of the rationalists (including, until far too late, yours truly) was naivety. They saw reforms that worked well in theory and assumed they’d work just as well in practice. In many cases they did work well enough, but in too many others they failed badly.

Unintended consequences abounded, the greatest of which was what I call "the sanctification of selfishness". When the econocrats were planning the removal of import protection they confidently predicted a benefit would be to discourage "rent-seeking" – businesses incessantly lobbying the government for favours when they should be getting on with running their businesses more efficiently.

In reality, rent-seeking has become rife. Since the mid-80s, the Canberra-based lobbying industry must surely have been one of our fastest growing and most lucrative. The economists’ greatest naivety has been their assumption that successive governments would faithfully implement their reform plans while resisting the temptation to do favours for generous mates.

Which brings us to next week’s budget. Recent days have seen big business campaigning for tax breaks, a further shift in the industrial relations power balance in favour of employers, and the removal of "burdensome regulations", all to create jobs.

Trouble is, years of bitter experience have taught us to recognise rent-seeking when we see it. Because economic rationalists have left people with the notion that economic progress is driven solely by self-interest, the rich and powerful now see themselves as justified in demanding that the economy be re-organised in ways that facilitate their efforts to get richer and more powerful.

Among the various micro-economic reforms advocated last week by the Productivity Commission’s Brennan as ways of speeding up the recovery were: removing rigidities in the labour market, streamlining the approvals process for new businesses and improving the “culture” of regulators.

I have no doubt there are plenty of anachronistic, pettifogging, cumbersome provisions of industrial relations law that both sides could readily agree to remove. But I doubt that’s what the employers are seeking. They want their quid without any quo.

Equally, I don’t doubt that much could be done to minimise the time-wasting involved in the regulation of business, without compromising other public policy goals. But too often removing "green tape" is code for sacrificing long-term protection of our environmental assets in favour of letting a few developers temporarily create a few hundred jobs while they build some highly automated mining project.

And while the culture of pushing people around at Centrelink or the local council should definitely be corrected, the last time the pollies went down this road they left the banking and corporate regulators with the clear impression that what they wanted was a buddy-buddy culture. The banks concluded that, for them, obeying the law was optional, and we all remember what happened next.

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It won’t be just the budget that sets our speed of recovery

 In Scott Morrison’s efforts to get us out of the coronacession, lesson No. 1 is that it’s up to the government to produce the increase in demand we need by spending an absolute shedload of money. But this week the boss of the Productivity Commission interjected with lesson No. 2: while you’re at it, don’t forget the role of the supply side.

In every recession, “aggregate demand” (gross domestic product) goes backwards, and unemployment shoots skywards, because the private sector – households and businesses – have cut their spending on consumption and physical investment in new houses, business equipment and structures.

To get the private sector going again, the public sector has to more than make up the gap by greatly increasing its own spending. That’s particularly true in this recession because, with the official interest rate already close to zero, there’s been almost no scope for the authorities to do the other thing they usually do to get the private sector spending again: slash interest rates to encourage spending on borrowed money.

Because this government has made so much of the evils of “debt and deficit”, however, it’s been tempted to limit its budget spending by using economic reforms to pursue “jobs and growth”. The response of me and others has been to say “not so fast”. Reforms aimed at making our production of goods and services – the “supply side” of the economy - more efficient are no substitute for boosting the demand side of the economy when that’s what’s causing high unemployment.

After all, what could be more inefficient and wasteful than having hundreds of thousands of people who could be working and producing things sitting on their bums?

But in a virtual speech to the Australian Business Economists this week, Productivity Commission chairman Michael Brennan argued that the state of the supply side of the economy would be highly relevant to our success in having the economy recover as quickly as possible.

He made some good points. Note, he wasn’t challenging the fundamental importance of ensuring adequate growth in aggregate (total) demand. He was saying that the state of the supply side also matters. It’s not a substitute for adequate demand, but is an important supplement to it.

“Supply-side policy is an important enabler of the recovery, without which demand-side stimulus is incomplete or compromised in its effectiveness,” he says. It’s not so much about correcting inefficiency in the allocation of resources (labour, capital and land), as about “dynamic efficiency” – the speed with which the economy can move from one state to another, and how we minimise the various “frictions” that slow it down.

He says there are three main reasons why we should focus on micro-economic policy even in the midst of a recession. First, the coronacession is not just a demand shock, it’s also a reallocation shock. It will involve many workers, and much capital and land-use moving between industries and locations. Some industries will get bigger, some smaller.

Change in the industry structure of the economy is happening continuously, but a lot more of it happens during and after recessions. Many more businesses go out backwards, while new ones spring up. As well, firms use the impetus or excuse of the recession to stop doing unprofitable things they should have stopped doing years earlier.

Classic example: all the firms in this recession slashing the amounts they’re prepared to pay for sport broadcast rights and sponsorships. They’re blaming the tough times, but they’re also correcting their own error in allowing bidding wars to push the salaries of professional sportsmen (but few sportswomen) way above their commercial value.

So recessions involve much reallocation of resources. The economy won’t have fully recovered from the recession until that process is complete. But how long it takes will be heavily influenced by the frictions that slow it down.

Brennan quotes research showing that reasons for delay in reaching the new allocation “include the time needed to plan new enterprises and business activities, the time required to navigate regulatory hurdles and permit processes to start or expand businesses, time [to acquire new financial and physical] capital . . . and [time to seek out] new relationships with suppliers, employees, distributors and customers”.

His point is that some of these delays are caused by government regulation, so there are things governments could do to speed up the reallocation process and thus cause unemployment to come down faster.

Brennan’s second reason for arguing that micro-economic policy is relevant to the recession is the need to facilitate the forming of new businesses, and the possibility that recent experience of the pandemic leads entrepreneurs to overestimate the risk of future disruption to any business they start.

Governments can try to offset such “belief scarring” by streamlining the approvals process for new businesses, improving the culture of regulators, reforming insolvency rules, and in other ways.

Brennan’s third reason for arguing the relevance of micro policy is that reforms can help reduce the disruption caused by macro-economic shocks by making the economy more resilient – able to roll with the punches. (I believe this was one of the big but unexpected benefits of the Hawke-Keating government’s many micro reforms, which helps explain why we went for 29 years between recessions.)

But though Brennan makes good points, let me make two. As he envisages them, the reforms he advocates would leave us better off. But economists’ grand plans have to be implemented by fallible politicians and, as we’ve seen too many times in recent decades, by the time the pollies have engaged with the lobbyists what emerges is often more akin to rent-seeking than good policy.

Finally, unlike macro measures, micro reforms usually take some years to be brought into effect and then have their affect on behaviour. So, unless we take years to recover from this recession, any micro reform we begin now will be in time to help us with the next one.

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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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Memo generals: China is our inescapable economic destiny

There must be times in Australia’s history when people look at the nation’s economic experts and wonder if they have any idea what they’re doing. Today, the boot’s on the other foot: people who care about our economic future are wondering what game the nation’s defence and foreign affairs experts think they’re playing.

The concern of many business people and others has been most eloquently expressed by Dr John Edwards, former Reserve Bank board member, in a paper for the Lowy Institute. He’s in complete agreement with Scott Morrison’s assertion last year that “even during an era of great-power competition, Australia does not have to choose between the United States and China”.

Edwards says Australia made its choices long ago, and is now locked into them. “It chose its region, including its largest member, China, as the economic community to which it inescapably belongs. It also long ago chose the US as a defence ally to support Australia’s territorial independence and freedom of action.”

There is a good deal of tension between these two choices, but no possibility that either will change, he says. “Like many other enduring foreign policy problems, it cannot be resolved. It must instead be managed.

“However, it can only be managed if the Australian government has a clear and united understanding of Australia’s interests, and competent people to execute policies consistent with that understanding.”

Australia’s trade with East Asia has been growing faster than its gross domestic product and its trade overall for many decades. Our exports to East Asia now account for more than a sixth of our total GDP. Half of these exports go to China, and now amount to 10 times those going to the US.

Australia is meshed with China’s economy not only because China is such a big market for our exports, but also because China is the major trading partner of our other major markets in East Asia: Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and the ASEAN countries.

Today, East Asia and the Pacific form a regional economic community that, in terms of trade and investment between its members, is only a little less integrated than the European Union, and very much more integrated than the North American region.

“Already selling all it can to Japan and Korea, Australia would not find new markets for iron ore and coal to replace even a part of what it now sells to China. Nor could it easily replace exports of wine, meat, dairy products and manufactures to China. The largest share of foreign tourists is from China, as is the largest share of foreign students,” Edwards says.

“Without trade with China, Australia’s living standards would be lower, its economy smaller and its capacity to pay for military defence reduced.” (Generals – armchair and otherwise – please note.)

“It is difficult to imagine plausible circumstances in which an Australian government would voluntarily cut exports to China. Australia cannot and will not decouple from China’s economy any more than Japan, Korea, Taiwan or Southeast Asia can, wish to, or will,” he says.

Australia’s stance towards the US-China competition must therefore be informed by a recognition that what injures China’s prosperity also injures Australia’s prosperity. Economic "decoupling" of China from North America or Europe is not in Australia’s interests.

But “nor will Australia decouple from its security arrangements with America. The US will remain the primary source of advanced military technology for Australia. It will also remain the primary source of security intelligence.

“And no hostile power can entirely discount that possibility that the US would come to Australia’s military assistance if required. The security arrangements Australia has with America are therefore sufficiently valuable that no Australian government would voluntarily depreciate them, let alone relinquish them.”

The tension between these two pillars of Australia’s engagement with the world will continue for decades to come. The centrality of these relationships makes it all the more important for Australia to conduct them carefully and cleverly, always guided by a notion of Australia’s long-term interests, we’re told.

“China’s growing role on the world stage, its authoritarian government, its suppression of internal dissent, its territorial claims and defence build-up in the South China Sea, together with the deterioration of the relationship between the US and China, make this tension increasingly difficult to manage.

“Thus far, the cleverness Australia increasingly needs is not evident in its handling of relations with China . . . Refusing to take sides in the trade and technology competition between China and the US is Australia’s declared policy. It was wisely adopted – but not deftly implemented,” Edwards concludes, with admirable restraint.

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It'll be a long haul to get the economy going properly

If you’ve been away on Mars for the past five months, it will have been a huge surprise to learn this week that the economy is now "officially" in recession. For the rest of us, the news is the size of the recession, how it compares, what contributed most to the contraction, and the cloudy outlook for recovery.

The Australian Bureau of Statistics’ "national accounts" show real gross domestic product fell by 7 per cent in the June quarter, on top of the 0.3 per cent fall in the previous quarter. This is by far the largest fall in any quarter since we began measuring quarterly GDP in 1959.

The next biggest was a fall of 2 per cent in the June quarter of 1974. As Callam Pickering, of the Indeed global job website, reminds us, our total fall since December compares with peak-to-trough falls of 1.4 per cent in our previous recession in the early 1990s, and 3.7 per cent in the recession of the early 1980s.

So, no doubt this is indeed the worst recession since the Great Depression of the 1930s. Why so bad? Because, as David Bassanese of BetaShares tells us, "this is a recession like no other," being caused by the almost instantaneous spread around the world of a deadly virus and the consequences of our efforts to suppress the virus by ceasing much economic activity.

This coronacession is distinguished by its very front-loaded and cruelly uneven nature. “Unlike past recessions, which usually evolve over a year or so, most of the contraction in the economy took place within two short months,” Bassanese says.

The sudden need to lock down much of the economy and get people to leave their homes as little as possible raises the hope that, as the economy is re-opened, much of that activity will be resumed. And if we switch the focus from what’s happening to GDP – the economy’s production of goods and services – to the more important issue of what’s happening to jobs, we see this is already happening.

Treasurer Josh Frydenberg reminds us that, of the 1.3 million people who either lost their job or were stood down on zero hours following the outbreak, more than half were back at work by July.

This suggests we should be able to expect a significant bounce-back in production in the present September quarter, which has less than a month to run. Sorry, Victoria’s second wave and return to lockdown have put paid to that fond hope.

With the rest of the nation re-opening, but Victoria accounting for about a quarter of GDP, the optimists in Treasury are hoping for a line-ball result, but most business economists seem to be expecting a further (though much smaller) fall.

With any luck, however, Victoria should have started re-re-opening by the end of this month. So, a big recovery in production in the run up to Christmas? Sorry. Unless the government changes its tune by then, the economy will be struggling to cope with the withdrawal of much of Scott Morrison’s budgetary support.

Time for some good news. Remember that, no matter how tough things are looking in Oz, they’re looking better than in the rest of the developed world, with the United States losing 9 per cent during the June quarter, the Europeans down 12 per cent, and Britain down 20 per cent.

Why have we been hit less hard? Because we closed our borders earlier and had more success at containing the virus. We didn’t have to lock down as hard and were able to re-open earlier.

Now back to the details of how our 7 per cent contraction came about. The great bulk of it came from consumer spending - accounting for well over half of GDP – which fell by a remarkable 12.1 per cent during the quarter.

Consumption of goods fell a bit, while consumption of services fell hugely. Why? Because staying at home and social distancing slashed our spending on services such as hospitality, recreation and transport (public, car and air).

To the fall in consumer spending we must add falls of 6.8 per cent in new home building and 6.2 per cent in business investment in new equipment and structures. Note that this continued the declines in these two areas that began well before the virus arrived, showing the economy was weak even before the crisis.

This collapse in private sector spending was partly offset by growth in two parts of the economy. First, public sector spending grew by 2.5 per cent, mainly reflecting greater health care costs. (Note that, being "transfer payments", the huge spending on the JobKeeper wage subsidy scheme shows up as an addition to wage income, while the greater spending on JobSeeker unemployment benefits also shows up as an addition to household disposable income.)

This increased government assistance, at a time when job losses meant wage income was falling, actually caused household disposable income to rise by 2.2 per cent. Combined with the remarkable fall in consumer spending, however, this helps explain why the rate of household saving leapt from 6 per cent of household income to almost 20 per cent.

Second, our international trade made a 1 percentage point positive contribution to growth because, although the volume of our exports of goods and services fell, the volume of our imports of goods and services (which subtract from growth) fell by more.

(Just so you know, partly because of this we recorded our largest quarterly current account surplus on record of $18 billion, or 3.8 per cent of GDP. This is our fifth consecutive surplus, the longest run of surpluses since the 1970s. For a financial capital-importing economy like ours, this is actually a sign of economic weakness.)

Remembering that the outlook for coming quarters isn’t bright, I leave the last, sobering word to the ANZ Bank’s economics team: “Significant further stimulus over the next few years is likely to be required to generate growth and jobs and drive the unemployment rate down.”

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Pandemic: inconvenient for the privileged, rough on the poor

The popular coronavirus refrain that "we're all in this together" is a call for everyone to pull together and be more conscious of the interests of others, not just our own. What it's not is a statement of fact.

Far from it. When you take a closer look, what you see is inequality and injustice – on many dimensions. Some of these have been created by the way our governments have decided who gets help to cope with the pandemic and who doesn't.

But others are the consequence of our politicians going for years pushing problems under the carpet because fixing them would just be too expensive for taxpayers.

You and I have generally been content for these problems to be kept out of our sight. But the virus has drawn these injustices to light. In some cases, the victims have continued to suffer in silence. In others, they've continued going about their business in ways that have undermined our efforts to limit the virus's spread.

Like many of us, no doubt, I've been aware of much of this. But the recent writings of Dr Stephen Duckett, of the Grattan Institute, have brought it together in a way that's shocked me. Duckett is the nation's leading health economist. Most of what follows comes from him.

His account begins at the beginning. We congratulate ourselves that we were quick to block the arrival of foreigners who could be bringing the virus with them. We closed our borders to China early, and soon added Iran and South Korea to the list. A planeload of repatriated Chinese Australians from Wuhan was quarantined well away from us at the Christmas Island detention centre.

"However, we baulked when countries like us – white and wealthy – began to show higher levels of infection," he says. "Italy had higher levels of infection than the Asian countries, but our borders remained open to Italians."

The United States was the next source of infections. "Some Aspen skiers, returning home, brought the infection with them. They were asked, probably politely, to self-isolate in their Portsea beach houses. They did not, and the virus spread. The first wave of infections was mostly these international transmissions, returning travellers, probably wealthier than the average Australian."

At that time we didn't know much about the virus, except that it seemed to have started in China. With people of Chinese appearance being vilified in the streets, Australians were not shown at their best (or brightest).

Look at Victoria's second wave, however, and you see people at the other end of the income scale helping to spread the virus and being its greatest victims. Low-paid and poorly trained hotel-quarantine guards, with precarious job security, were the human channels from supposedly quarantined travellers to the guards' families and friends.

It was not by chance that the first areas in the renewed lockdown were social housing towers where immigrant families lived cheek by jowl. "Communication problems with residents were exacerbated by the authorities' failure to adequately recognise the need for cross-cultural communication. And the authorities in turn seemed not to trust the residents, with whom they had little contact," Duckett says.

Generations of neglect of public housing have caused overcrowding in the estates and created the conditions for rapid transmission of disease. The same could be said of jails, where our enthusiasm for locking up offenders has not been matched by our enthusiasm for building new prisons. Then, of course, there's our neglect of residential aged care.

When you think about it, the device of limiting the spread of the virus by locking down large parts of the economy and encouraging people to stay in their homes inevitably hurts the poor more than the well-off.

As a general rule (to which there will always be exceptions, without that stopping the rule from holding much truth), the more skilled, better paid and permanent jobs can be done safely from home, whereas jobs that involve the face-to-face delivery of services are more likely to be less skilled, less well-paid and less secure.

Many of these jobs – particularly in hospitality and tourism – just disappeared, while others kept going, but with greater risk of becoming infected. Health workers were particularly exposed, often with inadequate access to personal protective equipment. Disgracefully, this sometimes led to them being shunned in public.

The "flexibility" afforded by the growth in part-time and casual work has been of great benefit to employers and some benefit to young parents and full-time students. But when casuals work multiple jobs to make ends meet, any infection spreads further. And when they lack paid sick leave, their temptation to keep working despite symptoms is great.

Then there's our treatment of overseas students and others on temporary visas. The moment their costs exceed their benefits to us, we cut them adrift without a shilling.

"The privileged among us have been inconvenienced by the pandemic; the vulnerable have suffered and in some cases died because of its unequal health and economic effects," Duckett concludes.

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We're edging towards a change in economic management

We must be in a recession because I’m getting a lot more letters from readers telling me they’ve figured out how to fix the economy in a way the economists haven’t been smart enough to discover.

Their solutions can be weird and wonderful, but a lot of them boil down to a simple proposition: if the economy’s in recession and unemployment’s high because people aren’t spending enough money, why doesn’t the government just print a lot of money and spend it itself?

But here’s the scoop: the idea that, rather than borrowing to fund their budget deficits – thus incurring big debts and interest bills – governments should just create the money they need has been anathema to economists for the past 40 years, but this may be changing.

There is a growing debate among economists, between the proponents of what they call “modern monetary theory” and more conventional economists and econocrats over whether governments should just create the money they need.

The defenders of the conventional wisdom have had to concede a lot of ground. Whereas a decade ago MMT was lightly dismissed as a crackpot idea, as this radical idea has gained more attention its opponents have had to admit it would be perfectly possible to do. They just think it would be a really bad thing to do.

Trick is, the “unconventional policy” of “quantitative easing” – where the central bank buys second-hand government bonds and other securities and pays for them merely by crediting the seller’s bank account – is quite similar to what the radicals are seeking.

All the major advanced economies – the US, the Eurozone, Britain and Japan - began doing this in big licks in the aftermath of the global financial crisis in 2008, once their official interest rates were so close to zero that they could be pushed no lower.

And now, once this coronacession had prompted our Reserve Bank to drop our official rate to its “effective lower bound” of 0.25 per cent in March, it too has resorted to quantitative easing, promising to buy as many second-hand bonds as necessary to keep the interest rate on three-year government bonds no higher than 0.25 per cent.

So, how exactly would what the Reserve is already doing be very different to what the MMT advocates say it should be doing?

The greatest proponent of MMT is an Australian, Professor Bill Mitchell, from my alma mater, the University of Newcastle. Internationally, its highest profile salesperson is Professor Stephanie Kelton, of Stony Brook University in New York, author of the big-selling The Deficit Myth.

Our leading commentator on the debate is Dr Stephen Grenville, a former deputy governor of the Reserve. And our most vocal opponent of MMT is present Reserve governor Dr Philip Lowe.

Those opponents are right to say there’s nothing new about “modern” monetary policy. In the days before the loss of faith in simple Keynesianism, it was common for governments to fund their budgets partly by selling bonds to the Reserve Bank, rather than to the public.

So the fatwah on governments “printing money” dates back only as far as Milton Friedman and his monetarists’ semi-successful attack on Keynesian orthodoxy in the late 1970s, when all the developed economies had a big problem with high inflation.

Friedman argued that inflation was “always and everywhere a monetary phenomenon” which governments could control by limiting the supply of money. Governments eventually realised that the quantity of money was “demand-determined” and that setting targets for growth in the money supply didn’t work. They switched to using the manipulation of interest rates to target the inflation rate.

As sensible economists always knew, it was never true that creating money always leads to greater inflation. It does so only when the demand for “real resources” – land, labour and physical capital – exceeds the supply of real resources. Only then do you have “too much money chasing too few goods”.

This has been confirmed by the failure of all the money created by quantitative easing since the global financial crisis to cause much, if any inflation, contrary to the predictions of the world’s few remaining monetarists.

The opponents are also right to say, quoting Friedman’s most famous aphorism, that “there’s no such thing as a free lunch” and it’s a delusion to imagine MMT offers one.

As Lowe argued vigorously at his appearance before the Parliament’s economics committee earlier this month, in reply to questions from Greens leader Adam Bandt, it may seem that by creating money rather than borrowing it you’re avoiding a lot of debt and interest payments but, in reality, all you’re doing is delaying and hiding the bill to the government and its taxpayers.

It’s also a delusion (as the leading proponents of MMT acknowledge) that governments would be free to create (or “print”, to use a misleading metaphor) as much money as they needed, without restraint. The restraint is the same one it always was: the limited supply of real resources.

While ever the demand for real resources – the things we use to produce goods and services – is falling short of the supply of those resources, creating money should lead to increased demand for them (provided you do it more effectively than the big central banks did it after the financial crisis).

But once demand was growing faster than the supply of real resources, any further money you created would simply cause inflation. This is what’s really worrying the opponents of MMT (and me). If you let the politicians off the leash to spend as much as they liked up to a point, how would you ever get them to stop once that point was reached?

While ever all we’re doing is quantitative easing, the independent central banks do the deciding, not the politicians. Which brings us to Lowe’s “advanced negotiating position”: why risk letting the pollies start creating money when the government can borrow from the public at interest rates that are pathetically low. And Lowe’s promising to keep them low for as long as necessary.

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The young will carry the worst scars from this recession

When Scott Morrison spoke to the first day of the National Youth Commission's virtual "youth futures summit" on Monday, he sought to assure the young people that, difficult as the pandemic and the economy are at the moment, there is another side to it, "where Australia emerges once again, where we actually do go back to the life that we loved".

I'm sure that's true. But if past recessions are any guide, most of us will have recovered from the coronacession and be back enjoying the life we love long before most of the present crop of youngsters leaving education have found themselves a decent job.

If the past is any guide, the government won't do nearly as much as it should to help those youngsters who, "through no fault of their own", as Morrison would say, had the immense misfortune to be born in the wrong year or three.

And, quite apart from the pain so many young people will suffer, the money the taxpayer saves from that neglect is likely to be exceeded by all the subsequent cost to the budget in healthcare, unemployment benefits and workers whose reduced incomes mean they don't pay as much tax as they might have.

The greatest burden of recessions always falls on the young for the simple reason that employers' automatic response to a recession is to cancel their annual intake of school and university leavers. The deeper the recession, and the slower the recovery from it, the more years that entry-level hiring is postponed.

This was the case for many years after the global financial crisis of 2008 even though, for the rest of us, a recession was avoided.

You've heard that, unusually in this recession, the greatest burden has fallen on women rather than men. But this can be true while it remains true that the young are the greatest losers. That's because a disproportionate share of the women is young.

As summarised for the summit by the independent economist Saul Eslake, recent research by Treasury has found that people who enter the jobs market for the first time during a recession are less likely to change jobs – which means they're more likely to miss out on one of the main ways by which people get pay rises during their first 10 years in the workforce (that is, by changing jobs).

This matters because almost 80 per cent of lifetime wage rises occur during the first 10 years of someone's working life. So the "scarring" effect of leaving education in a bad year lasts for 10 years.

Treasury finds that the scarring effect has been bigger since 2000 than it was in earlier recessions, so that the most recent generations of young people have been affected more than previous generations. And it's worse for women than for men.

All this is consistent with the interim findings of a nationwide inquiry into youths' transition from education to employment, which the National Youth Commission published on Monday. It finds that unemployment for 15- to 24-year-olds is consistently higher than for 25- to 64-year-olds. And that traditional pathways to employment for young people have eroded over the past couple of decades.

One thing that's changed over the years is the growth of underemployment. To the present unemployment rate of 7.5 per cent and rising must be added the underemployment rate of 11.2 per cent, representing those who have some paid work but want more.

Just remember it's the young who dominate the underemployed. Many of them have multiple jobs, but still can't make ends meet. Many are in the "gig economy", whom governments have allowed to be defined as "independent contractors", thus permitting those wonderful innovative outfits that run app-based fast-food delivery and all the rest to sidestep the legal obligations of an employer.

Remember, too, that the seeming epidemic of "wage theft" – which, by their neglect, governments have done too much to allow and too little stamp out – would be perpetrated particularly on the young.

Unsurprisingly, the inquiry found the (pre-pandemic) levels of the youth allowance and unemployment benefits – which successive governments have frozen in real terms for 25 years – are inadequate. It's the young who suffer most from this parsimony.

Morrison and his ministers have repeatedly defended the $40 a day by saying people are on the dole only temporarily before they find a job. That was certainly the reasonable expectation in the past. Now, however, it's one of the respects in which the inquiry found the system no longer fit for purpose.

Another respect is, it's no longer true that most jobs for young people are full-time. Only in the past month has the government temporarily changed the means test to encourage the unemployed to look for part-time jobs. Pity so few of them are on offer at the minute.

The youth commission has proposed a detailed "youth futures guarantee" laying out reforms and measures that would better support our young people in meeting the challenges they face. Challenged to respond to the proposal, Morrison was masterfully noncommittal.

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Pandemic could kill off governments' credit rating bogeyman

I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that an economic shock as big as the pandemic is breaking down longstanding rules – written and unwritten - about how the national economy should be managed.

One rule is the rigid demarcation between fiscal (budgetary) policy and monetary (interest-rate) policy. Another is that the states leave management of the macro economy to the feds, and stick to a Good Housekeeping approach to their own budgets. A third is that there should be free trade and movement between the states.

A corollary of the strict separation of fiscal policy and monetary policy is that the federal government and its Treasury should leave all public comment about the appropriate levels of interest rates and the dollar to the independent Reserve Bank, while the Reserve makes no public comment on the appropriate levels of government spending, taxation and budget deficits.

On that convention, Reserve governor Dr Philip Lowe has been stretching the friendship almost since the day he took the job in 2016. His problem is that macro management works best when both arms of policy are pushing in the same direction: either moving the economy along or holding it back.

But whereas his goal has been to use low interest rates to stimulate a weak economy and get unemployment down, the Abbott-Turnbull-Morrison government’s goal has been to tighten fiscal policy and turn the budget deficit into a surplus.

Lowe hasn’t been able to resist the temptation to note - repeatedly - that he could do with more help from fiscal policy. And as the level of interest rates has fallen further and further towards zero, he’s been more and more outspoken. Now the official interest rate has reached the “effective lower bound” of 0.25 per cent, he’s been even more importuning.

But in his evidence to the House of Reps economics committee a fortnight ago, he moved to putting the hard word on the premiers. Replying to a question about fiscal stimulus, he said: “I think we need both the federal government and the state governments carrying their fair share.

“The federal government, I understand, has announced measures so far equivalent to roughly 7 per cent of gross domestic product ... The measures to date from the state governments add up to close to 2 per cent of GDP ...

“The challenge we face is to create jobs, and the state governments do control many of the levers here. They control many of the infrastructure programs. They do much of the health and education spending. They’re responsible for much of the [regular] maintenance of much of Australia’s infrastructure.

“So I would hope, over time, we would see more efforts to increase public investment in Australia to create jobs, and the state governments have a really critical role to play there.”

At the national cabinet meeting on Friday, we’re told, Lowe told the premiers they should collectively spend $40 billion over the next two years – equivalent to 1 per cent of GDP per year – on job creation measures, including infrastructure, social housing and training.

Trouble is, the states have already done about as much as they can without exceeding the borrowing limits set by the credit-rating agencies, and so endangering their triple-A ratings. So what’s Lowe’s solution to that problem? Dooon worry about ’em.

At the parliamentary hearing, he said: “From my perspective, creating jobs for people is much more important than preserving the credit ratings. I have no concerns at all about the state governments being able to borrow more money at low interest rates. The Reserve Bank is making sure that’s the case.”

At one level, this is a sign of the momentous times we live in. Governments around the world are borrowing massively as the only way they can think of to overcome the coronacession. With interest rates on long-term government borrowing at unprecedented lows, what have they got to fear?

In effect, they’re daring the three big American for-profit rating agencies to downgrade them. And so far, those supposedly righteous judges haven’t accepted the dare. Perhaps they’re remembering the time after the global financial crisis when one of them had the temerity to downgrade US government bonds. No one took any notice.

The presumed penalty for being downgraded is that the bond market increases the interest rate it requires to lend to you. But what if the market has stopped listening? In any case, with interest rates ultra-low, why should anyone fear having to pay a tiny fraction more?

At another level, however, this is Lowe telling Treasuries, federal and state, that the jig is up. Ever since the mid-1980s, they’ve used the threat of a rating downgrade as a stick to wave over the heads of the spending ministers, to limit their spending. They’ve used the rating agencies as the ultimate policemen enforcing Smaller Government.

Not any more, it seems. Right now, apart from the appalling prospects for unemployment, Lowe has bigger worries: the push from the proponents of “modern monetary theory” urging governments to stop funding their budget deficits by borrowing from the public and just print the money they need.

In Lowe’s mind, this would be the ultimate breach of the separation of fiscal policy and monetary policy. The elected government would be telling the independent central bank how much money to create.

Lowe would be willing to bend the rules a lot to avoid this ultimate breach. He certainly wouldn’t want the rating agencies adding to the pollies’ temptation to print rather than borrow. But he would be willing to resort to “unconventional measures” and buy big quantities of second-hand Commonwealth and state government bonds and so ensure their interest-rates stay ultra-low.

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It may be a terrible recession, but it could have been worse

In economics, everything is relative. Relative to you, the coronacession is likely to be the worst economic disaster you’ll experience in your lifetime. Relative to Australia, it is – as the media (including yours truly) keep telling us – the worst recession since the Great Depression of the 1930s.

But, as a report published this week by the Lowy Institute reminds us, there’s another side of the story. Relative to what we were expecting initially, the recession isn’t as bad as feared. And relative to many other developed economies, we’ve got off lightly.

The report is by Dr John Edwards, a former member of the Reserve Bank board. Perhaps in reaction to his former career as a journalist, Edwards has a penchant for highlighting the aspects of an economic story his former colleagues have tended to gloss over. Which means he finds the not-so-bad bits – and so is always worth hearing from.

How badly a country is suffering economically is largely a function of how well it responded to the pandemic. Those that followed the medicos' injunction to "go early, go hard" have done better than those that procrastinated. Fortunately, and thanks in large part to Scott Morrison’s leadership, we’re in the former group.

Edwards says that, because of our early success in controlling the virus, the "pandemic in Australia is fading sooner and with less economic damage than expected. While the secondary wave of infection in Victoria is a big setback and there may yet be other regional or local outbreaks, the economic recovery already evident is set to continue."

The pandemic "from which Australia is now emerging was the most abrupt, savage and frightening economic shock in the lifetime of most Australians. But the jolt was also short and unexpectedly shallow."

If you judge it by the progress of the economy’s output (real gross domestic product), you may not be convinced the recovery has begun. But judging it by the state of the jobs market, which is what matters most, leaves little doubt.

The best measure of the immediate employment response is the total number of hours worked in the economy. Between March and April we experienced an astonishingly swift fall of 9 per cent. The following month it fell by less than 1 per cent. In June, however, it rose by 4 per cent. The 1.3 per cent rise in July signals a slowdown in the rate of the jobs recovery.

So in July we were still down 5 per cent on July 2019. But here's Edwards’ other way of looking at it: "Through the four months of what was widely portrayed as a general economic cessation, a large proportion of Australian employees kept working.

"New networking technologies permitted most office work to be performed at home. Mining and farming continued. So did much of manufacturing and construction. Electricity, gas and water utilities employees kept their jobs.

"Throughout Australia, public servants continued working, often at home. Tradespeople, cleaners and gardeners more often than not were working. Most health employees remained on the job, busier than ever. Childcare facilities remained open in most places and, where necessary, classroom teaching continued remotely. Media workers struggled to keep up with the demand for news and entertainment.

"The economic cessation, such as it was, centred on restaurants, clubs, pubs and accommodation, discretionary retail such as clothing and furniture, local and international travel, sports, entertainment, and the arts.

"Take-up of the JobKeeper program, which helped businesses retain employees, was far lower than expected because the economic damage was less than expected. All up, most of the Australian workforce remained on the job, either from their usual place of work or from home."

Surprisingly, most of the economic downturn took the unusual form of a sudden cessation in household consumption.

While it’s true that colleges and universities have been hurt by the suspension of foreign student arrivals, Edwards says the majority of international students living in Australia before the pandemic stayed. Indeed, many of them had little choice. Quarantines will remain necessary, but plans are now being made to permit the resumption of student arrivals.

More than nine million foreigners, mostly tourists, visited Australia last year. The number arriving since March this year is “scarcely worth counting," he admits. The resumption of mass foreign travel, unimpeded by quarantine, awaits not only the discovery and approval of a vaccine, but also its worldwide distribution in millions of doses.

But get this: in the short term, however, the suspension of normal international travel actually adds to Australia’s gross domestic product. That’s because Australians’ spending abroad exceeds foreigners’ spending in Australia.

Now, compare how we’ve fared with how the other rich countries have. Taking total coronavirus deaths as a proportion of the population, Edwards calculates that our rate is less than a thirtieth of the rates for the United States and Britain.

So it’s little wonder our economy hasn’t been as badly hit. Using the forecasts of the International Monetary Fund, the economic contraction in the United States, the whole of the Euro area, Britain and Canada will be twice the size of our contraction.

Global economic growth will be lower than it would otherwise have been for years to come. And, "while unemployment will be the principal domestic problem, the changing global context will also shape the Australian economy for years to come", Edwards predicts.

Doesn’t sound good. But he has found a silver lining: “The impact for Australia of lower global demand and production is mitigated because three-quarters of its goods exports are to East Asia, a region that is growing faster than Europe or the United States and which, in most cases, has handled the pandemic well.

"While world output [gross world product] will contract nearly 5 per cent in 2020 on IMF forecasts, developing Asian countries will contract by less than 1 per cent."

For us, it all could have been much worse.

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We've been electing governments that damage our kids' future

One of the most dismal ideas for our youth to entertain is that their lives won't be as comfortable as their parents'. Everyone in the older generation knows how much their lives have improved over the decades, and how much better off we are than our parents were.

We've come to regard continuous improvement in living standards and quality of life over the generations as part of the natural order. Our pay-off for living in a capitalist economy.

So how can our kids have become so pessimistic about the future? How can they imagine their parents would allow such an appalling prospect to befall their offspring? Isn't improving their kids' chances in life a big part of the reason parents work so hard?

Isn't it why so many parents pay so much to send their kids to private schools? Isn't preserving their kids' inheritance the reason the well-off retired fought so hard against Labor's plan to take away their dividend franking credits?

How could any government that presided over a significant deterioration in our children's prospects hope to survive?

Trouble is, the kids are right to be so pessimistic. We can't know what the future holds, but we do know that various trends in that direction are well-established.

And the plain truth is that one way governments have got themselves elected and re-elected in recent decades has been to pursue policies that favour the old and don't worry about the young.

Politicians have been tempting us to put our immediate interests ahead of our offspring's future – and it's worked a treat.

This week the Actuaries Institute of Australia published a new index of intergenerational equity, which compares the "wealth and wellbeing" of people aged 65 to 74 with that of people aged 25 to 34 between 2000 and 2018.

Note that this is before any effect of the coronacession. And remember that the faces in these two aged groups keep changing as people age. No one who was between 65 and 74 in 2000 is still in that group now.

Since the Baby Boomers were born between 1946 and 1964, probably more than half of them were in the 65 to 74 age range by 2018. And the Millennials were joining the 25 to 34-year-olds.

The actuaries have divided "wealth and wellbeing" into six "domains": economic and fiscal (allocated a subjective weighting of 30 per cent in the index), health and disability (20 per cent), social (including rates of homelessness, incarceration and being a victim of robbery; 15 per cent), environment (15 per cent), education (10 per cent) and housing (10 per cent).

The scores for people aged 65 to 74 in 2000 were given an index value of 100. In the same year, the scores of people aged 25 to 34 amounted to 70. It's hardly surprising that people 40 years younger have significantly lower scores. They've had much less time to gain promotion, earn, save and pay off a home (or even receive an inheritance).

No, what matters more is how the two groups' scores have changed over time. Over the 18 years, the older group's score has risen to 115, whereas the younger group's score has fallen to 69.

Turning to the size of the young's deficit relative to the old, it improved from minus 30 to minus 11 between 2000 and 2006 – presumably mainly because the young did well in the resources-boom-driven labour market – but then deteriorated to minus 20 by 2012.


That year, 2012, was when the resources boom started winding down. And it was when the Baby Boomers started reaching 65. Over just the six years to 2018, the young's deficit relative to the old worsened dramatically to minus 46.

But why has the position of the young relative to the old deteriorated so badly since 2006? Well, they've benefited from improving health, as life expectancy has increased and rates of disability have decreased.

They've benefited also from increasing levels of educational attainment and, socially, from modest reductions in the gender pay gap and falling rates of robbery (which affect the young more than the old).

But these gains have been more than countered by losses in other domains. In ascending order of loss, young people have suffered economically as, since the global financial crisis, education-leavers have taken much longer to find full-time jobs; government spending has been skewed towards older generations (higher spending on health, pensions and aged care, but less on the rate of unemployment benefits) and public debt has risen.

The young have suffered in housing, as the rate of home ownership for their age group has dropped from 51 per cent to 37 per cent over the past two decades. But their greatest loss (sure to grow in coming years) is from the deterioration in the natural environment: rising carbon emissions and temperatures, the drying Murray-Darling Basin and declining biodiversity.

And all these trends before the likely weak and prolonged recovery from the coronacession scars the careers and lives of another generation of education-leavers, without governments or voters being too worried about it.

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Tribal prejudices about wages guarantee a weak recovery

Neither side of politics wants to admit it, but it’s a safe bet that the economy’s recovery from the coronacession will be weak and slow until we get back to strong growth in wages.

Scott Morrison and the Liberals can’t admit it because it flies in the face of their tribe’s view that the unions have too much power, that wage rises are always economically damaging and that public servants are underworked and overpaid.

Meanwhile, Anthony Albanese and Labor can’t admit it because they live in fear of being portrayed as anti-business and because tribal loyalties mean they’ve taken on the union movement’s vested interest in ever-increasing compulsory super contributions.

Last week we learnt that, as measured by the wage price index, after growing by a weak 0.5 per cent or so per quarter for the past six years, wages grew by just 0.2 per cent in the June quarter, the first virus-affected quarter. This took annual growth down to 1.8 per cent.

Worse, wages in the private sector grew by just 0.1 per cent in the quarter. This included actual falls in some wage rates, those negotiated by individual arrangement with people in senior executive and highly paid jobs.

The Reserve Bank sees annual wage growth falling to 1.25 per cent by the end of this year, and staying there until the end of next year. By the end of 2022, it will have recovered only to its present well-below-par rate.

Wage growth is the key to recovery because wages are the greatest single driver of economic activity and employment. But rather than thinking of ways to get wages up, both sides are working on ways to slow them further.

Not that private sector employers will need any help. They always skip pay rises during recessions because, afraid of losing their jobs, workers know they’re in no position to argue.

But, while as individuals, firms benefit from cutting the real value of the wages they pay, when all of them do it at the same time, they all suffer because the nation’s households have less money to spend on the products of the nation’s businesses.

So what can governments do? Well, they can at least avoid doing anything that makes real wage growth any weaker. Federal and state governments can resist the temptation to cut the real wages of their own employees.

This helps sustain household income directly, but also indirectly because employer and employee judgments about what’s “a fair thing” are influenced by what other employers are doing – that is, by wage “norms”.

State Labor governments have been as bad as Coalition governments in using weak growth in private sector wages as an excuse to slow the growth in their own wages. They haven’t, however, been as muddle-headed as the NSW government in freezing its public servants’ wages so as to “stimulate” their economy by using the saving to pay for additional infrastructure spending.

Robbing Peter to pay Paul ain’t stimulus. And the Australia Institute has used the Australian Bureau of Statistics’ “input-output tables” to show that whereas every $1 million spent by consumers (including public servants) generates 1.79 jobs directly, every $1 million spent on construction generates only 0.97 jobs.

But federal Labor is worse. It’s thrown its weight behind the for-profit and industry superannuation funds’ campaign to ensure the rate of compulsory employer super contributions is raised from 9.5 per cent of wages to 12 per cent over the next few years.

Labor and the unions have turned a blind eye to the theoretical and empirical evidence that employers largely recover the cost of super contributions by granting pay rises that are lower than otherwise.

So, at a time when we need workers to be spending as much as they can, and the rate of household saving is way too high, the labour movement wants workers to save an even higher proportion of their wage – even though the more we save the less jobs growth we get.

(The Grattan Institute’s Brendan Coates has demonstrated that the present contribution rate of 9.5 per cent is sufficient to yield workers a comfortable income in retirement, and that the Morrison government’s early release of super to distressed workers will have little effect on this because most of it will be made up by part-pension payments that are higher than otherwise.)

Finally, Morrison and the Liberals are working on plans to further “reform” the wage-fixing system by making changes that the employers want but the unions oppose. This would leave everyone better off, we’re told, by making the system more “flexible”.

At a time when the system is, if anything, too flexible – witness: so much part-time and casual labour, labour-hire, phoney self-employment, the “gig economy”, almost non-existent strikes, and six years of chronically weak wage growth – this could only increase employers’ power to keep wages low.

See what I mean? Wage growth looks set to stay even weaker than it was before the coronacession.

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The last thing we need: neutering the free-trade referee

With the coronavirus putting the world economy into its worst dive in almost a century, it would help if the surviving trade in goods and services between countries was continuing in an orderly way. But, as if we didn’t have enough problems, the future of the international body responsible for ensuring free and fair trade, the World Trade Organisation, is in grave doubt.

The eternal temptation in international trade is protectionism: please buy all our exports, but we’ll be importing as few as possible of your exports. It’s tempting because, to the voters in every country, it seems just common sense to favour your own industries over their rivals in other countries.

Only when you’ve learnt a bit of economics – about the gains from specialisation and exchange, in particular – do your realise that first, it’s the consumers of the protected products and all the local industries you don’t protect who pick up the tab, and second, when you try to steal a march on other countries, they usually retaliate, which ends up meaning you’re both screwed.

That’s why the WTO was set up: to help its 164 member countries reduce their import duties (“tariffs” as economists call them) and other restrictions on imports, and then keep them down, so all the members are better off.

As explained in a report from the Lowy Institute, prepared by Dmitry Grozoubinski, a former trade negotiator with our Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, the WTO has three main roles.

First, the negotiation of successive “rounds” of mutual reductions in tariffs and import bans or quotas by all the members. After the establishment of the Geneva-based General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) after the end of World War II, eight multilateral rounds of reductions were negotiated.

In the early rounds, the members were mainly the developed countries and they concentrated on reducing the tariffs on manufactures that had built up in the 1930s as countries tried to use protection to end the Great Depression, but succeeded only in making it worse.

The result of the rounds was hugely increased trade between the rich countries, which many economists believe contributed greatly to the post-war period of rapid economic growth, rising living standards and full employment, but which ended with the coming of “stagflation” – high inflation and unemployment – in the mid-1970s.

By the “Uruguay round”, completed in 1994, the negotiations had broadened to cover textiles, agricultural subsidies, services and intellectual property. Many developing countries had joined the agreement and benefited from the liberalisation of trade in clothing and textiles, and rural products.

But the round’s most spectacular achievement was turning the GATT into the World Trade Organisation, still based in Geneva. Many more developing countries joined, as did China in 2001.

The WTO’s second role is to monitor member countries’ compliance with the rules agreed on during the rounds. One rule is that once a tariff reduction has been agreed on, it’s then “bound” and mustn’t be increased.

But the most important rule is “most favoured nation”: no other country should be given a special deal. So the lowest tariff you impose on some nation must be the one you impose on every other member. Another key rule is “national treatment”: imported and locally produced goods must be treated equally.

The point of these rules is to keep world trade both free and fair; to discourage countries from backsliding and help governments resist local pressure to revert to protection. In particular, to stop small countries being pushed around by big countries.

And so you see why a middle-size country like ours has much to gain from living in a world where every country sticks to the rules – and much to lose when the big boys on the block decide to start throwing their weight around.

The WTO’s third role is to formally adjudicate trade disputes between its member countries, thereby enforcing its rules. Serious disputes go to a court-like “dispute settlement body” and, if necessary, to an “appellate body”.

So, what’s the problem? Why is the WTO in deep trouble? Because, in Grozoubinski’s words, “all three pillars are wobbly, and had been long before the Trump administration started taking a sledgehammer to them. Unquestionably, however, the picture in 2020 is grim.”

The first role – negotiating further rounds of reduced barriers to trade – is, he says, “hopelessly stalled”. The “Doha round” was launched in 2001, but was unable to reach agreement, partly because it’s much harder for so many developed and developing countries to find common ground. The last attempt to make progress was in 2013.

Meanwhile, countries have shifted from seeking multilateral agreements to doing any number of bilateral (misnamed) “free-trade agreements,” which breach the spirit if not the letter of WTO rules such as “most favoured nation”.

The second role – monitoring members’ compliance with the rules – “relies on international peer pressure for the bulk of its enforcement,” but the world is in the grip of a trade war between the United States and China, meaning the US has gone from decades of getting everyone else to agree on sensible rules and stick by them to ignoring any rules it finds inconvenient in its quest to “make America great again”.

As for the third role – a binding dispute settlement mechanism – in December the US used a procedural blockade to render the WTO’s appellate body “impotent and unable to convene the required quorum of three panellists,” thus rendering the formerly legally binding system of arbitration optional.

If that wasn’t enough, the US is refusing to approve the organisation’s budget, and Congress has bills that would withdraw the US from the WTO (but which are unlikely to be passed). The outfit’s director-general has resigned, and any member could sabotage his replacement. The next conference of trade ministers has been delayed until at least 2021.

And all this is happening at a time of pandemic and escalating protectionism. Well done, chaps.

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Technology is amazing, but human nature is unchanging

When momentous events such as the coronavirus pandemic occur, it's tempting to conclude they'll change our lives forever. Even if we don't think it, you can be sure there'll be some overexcited journalists saying it. Just as there were after the attack on the Twin Towers on 9/11 in 2001.

Even then I was too old to believe it would "change our lives forever" and – although it did have lasting effects on international relations and our fear of terrorism – it didn't really.

This time people are telling us we'll all be working from home (with city office blocks and streets turning into ghost towns), doing our shopping online, learning online, seeing doctors online, and no longer doing business travel.

Somehow, I doubt it will be that radical. But I don't doubt there'll be change in all those directions. Most of them were already happening as part of the continuing digital revolution, and this will accelerate those trends.

The revolution's usual pattern is to bring modest benefits – greater "functionality" (machines that do more and better tricks) and convenience – to an industry's customers, while turning the industry on its head, with considerable disruption to the lives of many of its workers.

There was a time when watching television meant seeing only what the few available channels happened to be showing at the time. These days, recorders and catch-up apps and a multitude of free-to-air and for-the-small-fee channels and streaming video have given us vastly more choice.

This has meant huge upheaval for the industry, but improved our lives only to a small extent – something we've soon come to take for granted.

Some people (and not just Victorians) are finding it hard to imagine the pandemic will ever be over. But, though we can't be sure when, it will end. And when it does, far more aspects of the way we live and work will go back to the way they were than will change forever.

Truth be told, and unless we do a lot more to correct it, the biggest and baddest continuing effect of the pandemic will be on the careers of young people leaving education during the recession and what looks like being a long and weak recovery.

Staying serious, we can expect more concern about problems in health than in education. More concern about physical health than mental health. More concern about the problems of the old than those of the young.

Nothing new about any of that – except that Scott Morrison's heroic condemnation of those on his own side of politics suggesting that the lives of the elderly should have been "offered up" in the interests of the economy sits oddly with his and all federal politicians' tolerance of decades-long neglect and misregulation of aged care.

(As economists make themselves unpopular by pointing out, every time politicians decide to spare taxpayers the expense of fixing a level-crossing or in some other way saving "just one person" they are implicitly putting a dollar value on human life. They do so on our behalf and we rarely tell them to stop doing it. The term "cognitive dissonance" comes to mind.)

But I'm determined to keep it light this week, so on with happy chat about the pros and cons of new technology.

It's worth remembering that advances in digital technology have made the lockdown and social distancing tolerable – indeed, doable – in a way that wouldn't have been possible 20 years ago. Far more of us work as "symbolic analysts" (people who spend all day making changes on a screen) these days. Get access to all the office's programs on your laptop at home? Easy. Zoom to endless and unending meetings? Feel free.

The virus is likely to hasten technology-driven change because the crisis has broken through our fear of the new and unfamiliar. Both workers and bosses now understand both the pros and the cons of working from home relative to working from work.

We've tried buying groceries online. Doctors, departments of finance and patients have overcome their hang-ups about telemedicine. Online learning suits uni students better than school pupils.

But all these things do have their advantages and disadvantages. And most of the disadvantages are social. For the human animal, social distancing is a deeply unnatural act. We get a lot of our emotional gratification from face-to-face contact.

We communicate more efficiently and we learn things we wouldn't otherwise learn that help us do our job better. Relationships with suppliers, customers and consultants work better when we come to know and like each other.

So I think we'll do more digital remote working, but not turn our working lives over to it. Surveys show most people would like to work from home some days a week, but not all week. Business people may do less travel between capital cities – it could easily become the latest business cost-cutting fad – but it would be amazing if executives stopped wanting to shake hands with the people they deal with.

Technology can change what we do, but it won't change human nature.

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'Extreme uncertainty' causes RBA's bright-side mask to slip

I can’t be sure, but the econocrats seem to have become uncertain about what they’re uncertain about. The one thing about which they’re not uncertain is how uncertain they are. And, of course, they’re no longer pretending to be certain it’ll all be fine.

Central bank governors take a professional pride in concealing whatever doubts and fears they have. Which is as it should be. Treasurers, on the other hand, have become so ruled by their young spin doctors they’re perpetually in bulldust-your-way-through mode.

Economists (and media economic commentators) always exude confidence about their knowledge of what lies ahead because they know that’s what the customer’s paying for. They’re like doctors who dispense pills not because they’ll work but because they’re what will make the patient feel good. At least until they’re out of the surgery.

Psychologists tell us the human animal is eternally seeking “the illusion of control”. We want to know what the future holds so we can – we fondly hope – control how it affects us. People ask me questions about the financial future. I explain why it’s not possible to know. They say: “Yes, I know that, Ross, but whaddya reckon?”

The new forecasts the Reserve Bank issued on Friday were significantly different to those it issued three months ago. Worse, they laughed at Treasury’s forecasts in the economic update just two weeks earlier.

The general story is that, thanks to the setback in Victoria, the upturn in the economy’s production (real gross domestic product) will now come later than expected, and be weaker. When Reserve governor Dr Philip Lowe says the recovery is “likely to be both uneven and bumpy” you can be confident he’s not exaggerating. “Uneven” means stronger in some states than others. “Bumpy” means not every post will be a winner.

Reading between the lines, the lockdown's full contractionary effect on GDP was expected to come in the June quarter (for which we’ll see the figures in three weeks’ time), with the recovery starting in the present September quarter.

The first quarter after the contraction should always be pretty strong (and, this time, particularly because the end of the lockdown meant people could get out, visit shops and restaurants and pubs), even if subsequent quarters aren’t as strong.

This time last week, the smart money was expecting the recovery in the September quarter to be followed by a contraction in the December quarter, as demand was hit by the wind back in the JobKeeper wage subsidy and the JobSeeker supplement.

Now, the September quarter recovery in the other states is likely to be overwhelmed by the effects of Victoria’s move to a harder lockdown. This, in turn, probably means there's less likely to be a further contraction in the December quarter – just continuing weakness. We do know that, in response to Victoria’s problems, Scott Morrison has modified JobKeeper at a cost of more than $15 billion.

Friday’s statement on monetary policy acknowledged “extreme uncertainty” about the course of the pandemic and, hence, its economic effects. In response to this uncertainty, the Reserve has moved from a single set of forecasts to three scenarios: baseline, upside and downside.

As explained by the Reserve’s assistant governor (economic), Dr Luci Ellis, in a webcast for the Australian Business Economists, the baseline scenario assumes that the rate of infection subsides, the tightening of restrictions in Victoria succeeds, there are no new lockdowns elsewhere, and restrictions are eased progressively over the rest of the year.

The upside scenario assumes the pace of decline in the number of cases is a bit faster than in the baseline, so the restrictions are eased a bit faster – like recent experience in the smaller states. People take more comfort from this and so confidence recovers faster than in the baseline.

Households are thus willing to spend more of the savings they accumulated during the first half of this year, compared with what’s assumed in the baseline scenario.

The downside scenario assumes that infection rates continue to escalate around the world this year and next. Australia faces a series of outbreaks and periods of stage three and four restrictions in some states. The result is further near-term weakness in economic activity. Confidence is damaged and so the recovery is much slower as well.

The other main point of variation between the three scenarios is how long Australia’s international borders remain closed. Three months ago, the Reserve was assuming travel restrictions would be lifted by the end of this year. In the new baseline and upside scenarios, it’s assumed that the borders reopen mid next year. In the downside scenario, it’s assumed continuing spread of the virus overseas causes our borders to be closed for the whole of next year.

There is, of course, another major source of uncertainly that the econocrats are too polite to mention: whether Morrison retains his pragmatic approach and keeps the government-spending tap open to fill whatever gaps emerge during the slow and troubled recovery, or succumbs to his ideological instincts and eschews further spending. My scenario: he’ll do more, but not enough.

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People on the dole don't want a job? Don't believe it

When Scott Morrison introduced the "coronavirus supplement" that temporarily added $275 a week to the dole’s $40 a day, he explained this was to help those who’d be losing their jobs "through no fault of their own". But it wasn’t long before he was finding fault.

"We are getting a lot of anecdotal feedback from small businesses, even large businesses, where some of them are finding it hard to get people to come and take the shifts because they’re on these higher levels of payment," Morrison told 2GB radio.

"What we have to be worried about now is that we can’t allow the JobSeeker payment to become an impediment to people going out and doing work."

These views would explain his decision to slash the supplement to $125 a week after September, and continue it only to December. What happens after that is still to be decided. But recipients will be required to prove they’ve looked for at least one job a week and will have their dole suspended if they refuse to take a job offer considered suitable.

Of course, it wouldn’t have escaped Morrison’s notice that this "treat ’em mean to keep 'em keen" approach would also help with his worries about the ballooning budget deficit.

I can’t say I’m surprised to hear small business people saying that, despite all the talk of high unemployment, they can’t get people to take the jobs they need to fill. I've heard that in all the previous recessions I’ve worked through.

And, indeed, the practice of denigrating the jobless goes back at least as far as the Great Depression of the 1930s. Then, there were newspaper reports of huge dole frauds that threatened to cripple the system and of a lazy, chicken-eating family living in luxury on the dole.

There’s just one problem with all this. There’s no hard evidence to support these anecdotes, and growing evidence that paying decent rates of unemployment benefit doesn’t discourage people from taking jobs.

These anecdotes don’t fit with a survey of employers conducted by the federal Department of Employment in June, which found just 6 per cent of employers said they were having difficulty recruiting due to a lack of applicants.

The trouble with anecdotes is that they’re anecdotal. The people telling you the stories never give particulars of why they had no takers. Were the vacancies well advertised? Were they paying below the legal award wage or wanting to pay in cash under the table? Were they wanting people to work overtime or at weekends without getting penalty rates? Was the job dangerous or especially unattractive – split shifts, for example.

In recent years, many casual jobs paying less than the law requires have been accepted by overseas students and others on temporary visas. Since the coronavirus hit, many of these people, being denied unemployment benefits or the JobKeeper wage subsidy, have been told to go back home, and have done so. Is that the problem?

In my experience, small business people can see their own perspective very clearly, but other people’s not so much. Many people who seek part-time work do so because they have other commitments that the work must be fitted around – full-time studies, for example, or young children. Maybe that extra shift Morrison refers to would have required people to pay more for childcare.

Then there’s the special circumstances of the virus. It’s likely many single parents have given up casual or part-time work to stay home with their kids when schools are closed. Some older people would have stopped working for fear of catching the disease.

I’ve met many business people (big and small, so to speak) who fall for the economists’ occupational hazard of assuming that, because money is a powerful motivator when it comes to work, money is the only motivation.

They can’t imagine that anyone would want to work rather than sit around at home because they like working, because they like being busy, like seeing their workmates, feel that healthy people should work, or even just to avoid the stigma many unkind people attach to being unemployed.

Many people have the attitude that anyone who really wants a job can find one. But while ever the number of unemployed exceeds the number of vacant jobs, this is a “fallacy of composition” – what may be true for the individual isn’t true for everyone.

Between February and May, the number of people on the JobSeeker payment (formerly Newstart) and the youth allowance rose by more than 90 per cent to 1.8 million whereas, according to the Australian Bureau of Statistics’ quarterly survey, the number of vacant jobs fell by 43 per cent to 129,000.

So there are about 14 jobseekers for every vacancy. Which means that, no matter how punishingly low you set the unemployment benefit – say, $40 a day – you can’t incentivise people to take jobs that don’t exist.

Even when the coronavirus supplement had almost doubled the dole to $550 a week, that’s just 73 per cent of the national minimum full-time wage of $754 a week. This percentage is one measure of what economists call the “wage replacement ratio”.

It’s also the most “conservative” measure - that is, likely to overstate the problem – since most full-timers would earn more than the minimum wage. In any case, the planned $150 cut in the supplement to just $125 a week will reduce the replacement ratio to just 53 per cent.

Not much of a disincentive to take a job there, I’d have thought. But this great fear of temporarily increased unemployment benefits being a great disincentive to work is a big issue in the United States and an argument Republicans have used to refuse to renew the supplement.

But as Catherine Rampell has written in the Washington Post, no fewer than five different academic studies have concluded the same thing: the Americans’ supplement does not appear to have adversely affected jobs growth.

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Virus reminder: governments need to be better, not smaller

One good thing the coronavirus has done is slow the pace of our lives, leaving us more time to think about them. And since the main device being used to stop the spread of the virus has been to reduce physical contact between people, it hasn’t been hard to see that what matters most to us is face-to-face contact with family and friends.

People of middle age fret about not being able to visit elderly parents. The great Dr Brendan Murphy, flat out advising the Prime Minister, really misses being able to hug his granddaughters. (Grandsons and granddaughter, in my case.) Teenagers take their family for granted, but miss their friends. Younger kids realise they actually like going to school and mixing with others.

The virus has also thrown into relief our rights as individuals versus our obligations to the group. The prevailing political and economic ideology highlights the individual and plays down the group, but in emergencies like this even our squabbling federal and state politicians see that the only way of coping is to co-operate rather than compete.

Looking at the Americans and the terrible disaster they’re making of it – including people refusing to wear masks because it’s a violation of their personal freedom – it’s not hard to see that individualism can go too far, and playing your part as a loyal member of the group has its virtues.

The virus reminds us that many of the problems we face can’t be solved by individuals acting alone, but by all of us acting together. For this we need leadership; we need the government to govern. To tell us what needs to happen, to issue instructions, provide support for those who need it, and then have all of us falling into line and pulling our weight.

That’s easy to see – and accept – in a crisis, but harder when we’re muddling along as normal. Fact is, however, our world abounds with problems that can’t be solved by individuals and businesses acting on their own initiative.

For these we do need somebody – or some body – with the authority to act on our behalf, calling the shots, fixing things, spending money and requiring us to cough up that money according to our ability to pay.

And yet the rise of individualism has been accompanied by the denigration of the role of government. It was the now-canonised Ronald Reagan who famously said that the nine most terrifying words in the English language are "I’m from the government and I’m here to help".

Obviously, governments can be far from perfect. Government agencies can be unhelpful, they can push us around for no good reason, be inefficient and waste our money. And yet the prevailing ideology’s response – influencing the behaviour of both sides of politics – hasn’t been to improve the functioning of government, but to chop it back as much as possible.

Any government business that can be sold, should be. Industries should be deregulated so private enterprise is given maximum freedom to be enterprising. There are services that governments need to pay for from the public purse, but their provision should be contracted out to private firms.

The trouble is, the advocates of Smaller Government have never persuaded the public of the wisdom of this approach, nor received a mandate. When governments try to cut back government spending in big licks – as Tony Abbott, despite promises to the contrary, tried to do in his first budget – they get repudiated.

So they end up forever trying to keep the lid on government spending – quietly cutting money going to politically unpopular causes (the unemployed, public servants), and ignoring all the people warning them to start preparing for possible problems in this field or that (a bad bushfire season, for instance).

They justify all this short-sighted penny pinching by saying no one wants to pay more taxes. Which is the message we so often send them, partly because we’ve grown distrustful that our money will be spent wisely.

See where this is leading? All the denigration and distrust of government does much to explain why we haven’t responded to the pandemic as well as we should have. National planning for a pandemic was discontinued after 2008 and it’s likely that the recommended national stockpile of personal protective equipment was a victim of successive "efficiency dividend" cut backs.

The ironically named efficiency-dividend cuts to the public service may help explain the inadequacy of Victoria’s contact tracing arrangements. There’s an inquiry into the failures of Victoria’s quarantine of returning travellers, contracted out to private firms.

Deregulation of wage-fixing has encouraged the growth in casual workers, whose lack of paid sick leave tempts them to go to work while at risk of having contracted the virus. Governments are scrambling to fill this dangerous gap.

Finally, the decades of wilful neglect and misregulation of aged care facilities, “left out of sight and out of mind” and “fragmented, unsupported and underfunded” – to quote the latest of many inquiries. All to keep taxes low.

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