The dots linking us to Europe's woes don't join

Humans are story-telling animals. We seek to understand developments in the world around us by turning them into ''narratives''.

When several things happen in the same field, people - including journalists - have a tendency to turn them into a coherent story by stringing them together.

For instance, the biggest economic news story for months has been the trouble the Europeans are having with their currency and high levels of sovereign debt, which are causing huge financial instability.

 

So, when, in the midst of this, our Reserve Bank cut the official interest rate and revised down its forecasts for the economy's growth, journalists and others joined the dots: clearly, and as might have been expected, the problems in Europe have caused a marked slowing in our economy.

There's just one problem: when you examine the facts, they don't fit the sense-making narrative people have woven them into.

The first point is that, despite the downward revisions to the Reserve's forecasts - which are unlikely to be very different from Treasury's revised forecasts when we see them in the next week or two - the economy isn't expected to slow down.

The truth is we've already had our slowdown when real gross domestic product contracted by 0.9 per cent in the March quarter of this year, mainly because of the effect of the Queensland floods. The economy has been recovering since that setback - but more slowly than expected because it is taking the Queensland coalminers so long to fix their flooded pits.

Over the year to last December, GDP grew by 2.7 per cent. Over the year to March, the growth rate dropped to 1 per cent and, over the year to June, it recovered to 1.4 per cent. The Reserve's latest forecast is for growth of 2.75 per cent over the year to December. Sound like a slowdown to you?

It's forecasting growth of 3 per cent to 3.5 per cent in 2012 and 2013. Is that weak growth? No, it's about ''trend'' - the economy's actual medium-term average rate of growth in the past and also the maximum rate at which it can grow over the coming medium term without worsening inflation, given the economy is already close to full capacity.

But, if the economy isn't slowing at present and isn't expected to slow, why has the Reserve had to revise down its forecasts? Because the economy isn't taking off the way the Reserve had earlier expected it would.

Admittedly, the main reason the economy now seems unlikely to really speed up is the dampening effect of Europe. The continuing saga has hit the sharemarket and made a lot of people feel poorer, as well as sapping the confidence of consumers and, more particularly, business people.

The Reserve cut the official interest rate a click - by 0.25 percentage points to 4.5 per cent - not because it feared disaster was on its way from Europe but because it now realised it wouldn't have as much trouble as it earlier expected keeping inflation within the 2 per cent to 3 per cent range over the next year or two.

A year earlier, it had tightened the ''stance'' of monetary (interest-rate) policy to ''slightly restrictive'' - one click above ''neutral'' (normal) - because it expected the economy to take off and push inflation above the top of the range. But now that was unlikely to happen.

As well, the Bureau of Statistics' move to a new series for the consumer price index had effectively revised history, showing underlying inflation in the June quarter wasn't quite as high as first thought and, for technical reasons, wouldn't rise as much in future.

There's plenty of evidence the economy isn't slowing and isn't likely to slow. For one thing, it's clear all the talk of ''the cautious consumer'' has been overdone. The weakness in retail sales (which in any case have been growing more strongly in recent months) isn't reflected in overall consumer spending, which is growing at about trend.

It turns out consumers have been changing their pattern of consumption rather than slowing the growth in it, buying less from department stores but more from service providers, including the providers of overseas holidays.

The acid test of whether consumers have become cautious is whether their spending is growing at a slower rate than their disposable income, thus causing their rate of saving to rise. The household saving rate seems to have stabilised at 10 per cent of disposable income.

The Reserve's revised forecasts imply it will rise a fraction in the short term, but be stable at 10 per cent over the next two years. If so, the laws of arithmetic say consumer spending will rise in lock-step with disposable income.

As for the index of consumer sentiment, although it fell heavily earlier this year, it's risen for three months in a row.

The economy is still receiving - and is expected to continue receiving - huge stimulus from the rest of the world, in the form of the resources boom. It's coming from the high prices we're getting for our mineral exports, from the growing volume of those exports and from hugely increasing investment spending on the development of new mines and natural gas facilities.

Although the Reserve believes our terms of trade - export prices relative to import prices - probably reached their peak in the September quarter and will now fall back, they're likely to stay better than we're used to. Iron ore prices fell heavily, but more recently are recovering.

It's true the labour market isn't as strong as it was last year. The unemployment rate has edged up from 4.9 per cent to 5.2 per cent. It may rise a little further, but then fall back. Overall, it seems about enough jobs are being created to cover the growth in the labour force.

And remember, with economists believing the lowest unemployment can go without causing inflation is about 4.75 per cent, we aren't travelling too badly.

The new forecasts are built on the assumption that sovereign debt problems in Europe don't cause a marked further deterioration in financial and economic conditions there. ''Fears of a major [global] downturn have not been borne out so far,'' the Reserve says.

There's a fair chance it could still happen, of course. But it's in no one's interests to jump to the conclusion it will.

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Change is workers' only certainty

The shape of our economy is always changing, but lately the pace of change seems to have got a lot faster. Some industries are expanding, while others contract. Particular industries are having to change the way they operate - or the range of products they produce - in response to many pressures.

These changes almost always leave us better off materially. ''Structural change'', as economists call it, has been central to the process by which people in the developed world have become ever more affluent over the past 200 years.

The greatest force driving structural change is technological advance: the invention of better ways of doing things, new things to do and countless labour-saving machines. Globalisation has been driven partly by government policy, but mainly by the information and communications technology revolution, which has hugely increased the speed and reduced the cost at which information, money and people move around the world.

 

This has given us the global financial markets, but also the rise of the developing economies, particularly in Asia. Those countries' growing demand for our minerals and energy is bringing us great wealth but is also bringing intense pressure for change in the shape of our economy. Mining and the services sector are expanding, whereas manufacturing, the tourism industry and education exporters are being forced to adjust.

Then there are all the industries under pressure from the internet and the emergence of ''new media'': newspapers, free-to-air television, book publishing and book selling, and retailers whose customers have discovered how much more cheaply they can buy some things on the net.

The trouble with structural change, of course, is that the benefits go to the customers - new products, wider choice, lower prices - while all the problems go to the people working in the disrupted industries.

Managers have to find a new plan for their firm's survival. Meanwhile, workers go through considerable uncertainty and anxiety. At best, they have to shift to doing something completely different. They may be required to do a lot more for the same money. Perks may be cut. Or their prospects of advancement curtailed.

They may lose their status as permanents. At worst they get shown the door and take a long time to find another job. That job may well involve doing the same work for less money and poorer conditions - perhaps for the business to which their work was outsourced.

Managers have no choice but to face up to the business's changed conditions and cut their cloth accordingly. When they resist change or pretend it isn't happening they just make things worse. Non-unionised employees have to cop whatever solutions managers impose on them. But well-unionised employees have more power to resist, or at least have their viewpoint taken into account.

No firm fits this frame better than Qantas. It has lost its protected status as the nation's flag-carrier and must find a strategy for competing with myriad competitors, many of them low-cost. It can no longer afford the high salaries and cushy conditions its pilots, engineers and other employees have become accustomed to.

The problem at Qantas was not that workers wanted too much in pay rises - that's the standard stuff of such bargaining - but that they wanted to use their industrial muscle to force management to agree never to change the business in ways that disadvantaged their employees.

Sorry, but that's not possible. Here you see the grounds for business's latest complaint against Julia Gillard's Fair Work changes to industrial relations. Gillard has removed the list of ''prohibited content'' restricting the matters over which management and unions may bargain. This has permitted the unions to range far beyond claims about wages and conditions to issues that concern ''managerial prerogative'' and thus challenge ''management's right to manage''.

It's important to remember we're still engaged in the difficult transition from almost a century of compulsory arbitration - where, as soon as a strike began the umpire would step in to impose a settlement on both sides - to a new world of collective bargaining.

A central goal in making this transition - one expressed many times by the now-bellicose Peter Reith - is to encourage the two sides to bargain without external intervention. The goal was a new era of reduced industrial disruption as the parties recognised the great extent of their common interests and put less emphasis on their (undoubted) conflicting interests.

Right on. So I don't think banning debate about management decisions is the smart way to go. That would mean the law advantaging one side, giving managers permission to ride roughshod over the interests and even the opinions of their employees.

Half the trouble at Qantas is the employees' failure to recognise how the game has changed for their company, robbing them of their former bargaining power. The other half is the arrogance of management in their resort to ''managerial prerogative'', in their failure to explain and debate the new realities with their staff.

It's painfully clear management-employee relations within Qantas are utterly poisonous. The blame for that should be shared equally. The fate of Qantas is important in its own right, but it's more important as a case study in how big, unionised companies cope with structural change.

The industrial parties need to reach an accommodation, not rush to the ref. But I agree with Professor Paul Gollan, of Macquarie University, that Fair Work needs to provide a better mechanism to help the parties argue through their differences in cases where belligerence on either side threatens to impose unnecessary hardship on the parties and the public.

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Shouting slogans will not further Fair Work debate

It's a compelling narrative: in the 1980s we deregulated the financial markets, slashed import protection and deregulated many markets for particular products. But then it dawned on us that deregulated, highly competitive product markets could hardly co-exist with a centralised, highly regulated labour market.

So Paul Keating started to deregulate the labour market, ending centralised wage-fixing and moving to collective bargaining at the enterprise level. The Liberals' Peter Reith introduced a formal system of individual contracts, Australian workplace agreements, then John Howard completed the process of deregulation by introducing Work Choices.

But then Labor used Julia Gillard's Fair Work Act to re-regulate the labour market. So we've reverted to our original problem of having a regulated labour market that simply doesn't fit with deregulated, trade-exposed product markets.

Just one problem with this neat analysis: it adds up only if you don't actually know much about how the labour market is regulated. The notion that Work Choices deregulated the market and Fair Work re-regulated it is simple, but makes no sense.

Consider this: the Work Choices legislation was much longer, more complex and more intrusive than the law it replaced. Does that sound like deregulation? The Fair Work legislation is considerably shorter and more straightforward. Does that sound like re-regulation?

One of the main complaints against Fair Work is that it has removed the list of ''prohibited content'' about which employers were prevented from agreeing with their unions. Inserting prohibitions in the law is deregulation? Removing prohibitions is re-regulation?

One thing Work Choices did was greatly bureaucratise the right to take industrial action, with the intention of discouraging it. Unions have to hold a postal ballot of their members and achieve a certain proportion of votes to commence a bargaining period after the expiry of their last enterprise agreement.

Then they have to hold another postal ballot before they can undertake protected industrial action during the bargaining period. Then they have to give 72 hours' notice of any action they actually intend to take.

By contrast, employers don't have to jump through any hoops or give any notice when they decide to retaliate by locking out their staff during a bargaining period.

These provisions of Work Choices were carried over largely unchanged in Fair Work. Do they sound terribly pro-union? Do they sound like deregulation? Does continuing them in Fair Work constitute re-regulation?

Confused yet? The simple truth is that ''deregulation'' isn't a sensible description of what Work Choices did and, in consequence, ''re-regulation'' isn't a sensible description of what Fair Work does.

Here's the point: the labour market has always been highly regulated. It remained highly regulated under Work Choices and it's still highly regulated under Fair Work. It's always likely to stay highly regulated for a simple reason: unlike all other markets, the labour market deals with human beings rather than the exchange of inanimate objects.

As a matter of politics, common humanity and common sense, the treatment of people in the labour market will always be carefully regulated. We are, after all, running the economy for the benefit of people.

What changes from time to time is not so much the degree of regulation as the objectives of that regulation. There's a fundamental imbalance of bargaining power between an individual worker and even the smallest employer.

So the main issue the regulation deals with is what should be done about that imbalance. The usual answer - the world over - is to permit workers to bargain collectively.

What Work Choices did - in its original form, at least, before Howard realised he'd gone further than the public would cop - was make individual bargaining far more attractive to employers by removing the ''no-disadvantage test'' which had limited the extent to which workers' wages and conditions could be reduced. A lot of the regulation it added to the system was to constrain the freedom of those employers who chose to continue bargaining collectively with their employees. And it further tightened restrictions on what unions could do.

Howard shifted the balance heavily in favour of employers and tried to delegitimise the (already declining) union movement. It's hardly surprising Labor used its first opportunity to shift the balance back the other way. What is surprising is how many of Work Choices' anti-union provisions it left intact.

All systems of collective bargaining permit unions to take ''protected'' industrial action, subject to certain tight conditions. Why do they need protection? What are they protected from? From being sued by employers in the civil courts because of the economic damage that action has done to the employers' businesses.

See what this means? It means that even if we really did attempt to deregulate the labour market by abolishing the industrial relations act, it would still be regulated by ordinary commercial law and common law. In that imaginary world, it would not be illegal to strike or take other industrial action, but any damage unions inflicted on employers - which, after all, is the very object of industrial action - would leave the unions open to being sued.

So, for all practical purposes, collective bargaining would be impossible - would be prevented by (ordinary civil law) regulation - unless governments regulated to specify the circumstances in which it would be permitted by being protected from actions for civil damages.

Still think it makes sense to talk about deregulating or re-regulating the labour market? There's always legitimate ground for us to debate whether the balance our industrial relations regulation strikes - between protecting workers on the one hand and achieving an efficient-functioning economy on the other - should be shifted in one direction or the other.

But shouting slogans at each other - it's deregulation if I like the latest changes; it's re-regulation if I don't - won't advance the debate one jot.

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Storm clouds over Europe, but sun is shining elsewhere

If you're confused about what's happening in the European economies, why it's happening and what it means for the world economy, don't feel you're alone.

The media's great strength is the speed with which they can bring us myriad details about the latest happening in Greece, Italy or anywhere else. Unfortunately, their great weakness is their inability to digest all that information and summarise what it means. The closest they go is in relaying the opinions of 101 supposed experts from Greece, Britain, America or anywhere else. Listen to more than one or two and you're soon none the wiser.

But this week our own secretary to the Treasury, Dr Martin Parkinson, gave us his tight summary of what and why and what next.

He began by warning that ''the global economy is heading down a winding road, with twists and turns ahead that we can't predict''. Following the global financial crisis, it was expected that the global economy would recover at a modest pace as the financial excesses were worked out of national, business and household balance sheets.

Instead, we've seen events occur that threaten to derail this recovery. ''The unfolding saga of the European sovereign debt crisis sees events change on a daily (if not hourly) basis,'' Parkinson says.

''It's not just events in Europe either, with the unprecedented downgrade by Standard and Poor's of their US sovereign credit rating in August providing yet another twist.''

He says there are four ''proximate'' (immediate) causes of the present situation in Europe. The first is the unsustainable sovereign (government) debts of some economies in the euro area, which reflect a period of weak economic growth and big budget deficits. This suggests a need for microeconomic reforms to enhance the country's international price competitiveness (because membership of the euro prevents the country from gaining competitiveness by devaluing its currency) and for more competitive taxation and social welfare policies.

The second cause of Europe's problem is policy responses from governments that are inadequate considering the size of government debt. This raises the fear of ''contagion'' (spreading disease) throughout the European banking system.

Third, the markets' continuing fear that political institutions are incapable of implementing concrete and credible responses to the problem.

And finally, a growing recognition by markets that the economic recoveries in both the US and Europe will be weaker than previously expected, making it even harder to work down their already excessive levels of government debt.

Financial markets around the world have been gripped by uncertainty and aversion to risk because of the prospect of weak global growth and the European sovereign debt crisis. Volatility has become the new norm.

The euro-area leaders' summit late last month finally made some much-needed announcements, but though markets initially reacted positively to these measures - despite the absence of detail - this was very short-lived.

Political developments in Greece and Italy in the past fortnight have further undermined confidence in the commitment of governments to deal with the underlying problems. Europe will remain a source of market volatility until governments' commitments are seen as clear and credible.

Market participants have become very reluctant to hold the bonds of certain governments, which is reflected in the market yields (effective interest rates) participants require to hold the bonds of particular governments.

The yield required on Spanish and Italian bonds, for instance, is about 5 percentage points higher than that for German government bonds. For Irish bonds this ''spread'' got as high as 12 percentage points, but has since fallen to about 7 points. For Portuguese bonds it's 10 percentage points and for Greek bonds it's about 30 percentage points.

Across the Atlantic, growth in the US weakened significantly in the first half of this year. Though it's strengthened a bit since then, the recovery remains vulnerable to external shocks such as a re-intensification of the European debt crisis.

''In the longer term we can have confidence that the US economic system will drive the innovation and investment needed to spur competitiveness and growth,'' Parkinson says. ''The question is whether the US political system can mobilise itself to address its medium-term fiscal challenges.''

But while both Europe and the US face budgetary challenges, there are some crucial differences, he says. Critically, the US has its own currency and monetary policy and a fiscal (budgetary) union between its 50 states.

And with the yield on 10-year US Treasury bonds at about a 60-year low, there's zero pressure from the market to force political action - and a political compromise - on a substantial medium-term reduction in the US budget deficit.

But until such a plan is agreed and legislated, the US will remain at risk of a sudden shift in market sentiment, as Italy has discovered in recent months.

Parkinson remarks that, with economic commentary focused on the short term and the North Atlantic, it's easy to overlook the bigger picture. We are in the midst of a once-in-a-century global economic transformation as the world's centre of economic gravity shifts from the advanced economies to the emerging market economies.

We focus on the rapid growth of China and, to a lesser extent, India. But we shouldn't overlook the strong growth of Indonesia and Vietnam. With a population of almost 240 million, Indonesia is the world's fourth most populous country. If we measure it using purchasing-power parity (as we should), Indonesia's economy overtook Australia in size in 2005.

Parkinson also points out that the rise of the developing countries isn't limited to Asia. ''We see a similar story developing in other emerging economies,'' he says.

''For example, a young population and improvements in human capital will likely contribute to an expected doubling in South Africa's gross domestic product in the next 20 years and Nigeria is expected to increase three-fold to displace South Africa as the continent's largest economy by the late 2020s.

''Latin America also continues to surge forward, with Brazil and Chile leading the way - with both expected to double in size by 2030.''

Returning to Asia, despite rapid growth in living standards, China and India remain at the early stages of their economic development. Assuming broad trends continue, China and India's cities will be populated by an increasing wealthy and mobile middle class in the decades ahead. ''On some projections, there will be 1.7 billion middle-class consumers in the Asia-Pacific region by 2020 - more than the rest of the world combined.''

Remember, however, all these projections rest on the economists' de rigueur assumption that there's no way shortages of natural resources or environmental pressures could prevent the global economy from continuing to grow forever.

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We may be two-speed, but we are all sharing dividends

Forgive my absence at such an anxious time but I've been away on holiday in Western Australia, walking bits of the Bibbulmun Track, which runs from Perth to Albany. The wildflowers were unbelievable. And so was the affluence in Perth, where the mining companies' skyscrapers are so tall they can be seen from Rottnest Island, 19 kilometres away.

How'd you like to be living in Perth, in the winners' circle where everything is on the up, not doing it tough in Sydney or Melbourne, on the wrong side of the two-speed economy?

Actually, things in Perth aren't as wonderful as it suits envious easterners to imagine. Know what they complain about in the West? The two-speed economy. Most of them think they're missing out. Some people may be raking it in, but not me. I'm not on some fabulous salary, just paying the exorbitant house prices the well-to-do have brought about.

Now where have I heard that before? What is it about Australians at present - on both sides of the continent - that makes them so convinced they're missing out and battling to get by?

According to polling by Labor, 68 per cent of respondents believe average Australians aren't benefiting from the mining boom. Is that how you feel? If so, you haven't thought about it. As someone said, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

After such a long plane trip, I was half expecting WA to be like another country. And it's true they have things we don't: magnificent tall trees - jarrah, karri and marri - and strange animals such as quokkas. But step into the bush and it's very much part of Australia: gum trees everywhere, kangaroos and kookaburras.

It's the same story economically. They may have huge reserves of natural gas and iron ore that we don't, but their economy is really just a corner of the greater Australian economy. As the locals are the first to tell you, a lot of the money they make soon finds its way into the pockets of people Over East.

For a start, there are no customs barriers between the states, so there's a lot of trade between them. Step into a WA supermarket and you see they're selling just the same stuff ours do. Which means most of what they're selling was manufactured on the east coast.

Their big mining companies have been making huge profits for the best part of a decade. Nothing to do with you? Every east-coaster with superannuation has a fair bit of their savings invested in the shares of those big companies. So you've been getting your cut.

Your super's been looking a bit sick in recent years? That's mainly because of problems in the rest of the world. Whatever you've got, it'd be looking a lot sicker without the resources boom.

Those mining companies are subject to the federal government's 30 per cent tax on company profits. And the feds' company tax collections have been massive since the resources boom started in the early noughties.

Do you realise that under Howard and Rudd we had cuts in income tax eight years in a row? Where do you think the money came from to finance those cuts?

In the economy, everything's connected to everything else. So if you're conscious of only the direct connections you're missing a lot of the story. And no connection is more indirect - or mysterious - than the way the governments of NSW and Victoria have been benefiting from the good fortune of the WA and Queensland governments.

This arises from our longstanding commitment to the principle of ''horizontal fiscal equalisation'' - which holds that all Australians, no matter where they live, are entitled to the same quality of government services.

That ain't easy, particularly because most government services - education, hospitals, law and order, roads - are delivered by the states. The cost per person of delivering services varies with how big and decentralised the states are. But another factor is the states' varying capacities to raise revenue. These days, states gaining royalty payments from their big mining industry have considerable ''taxable capacity''.

To bring horizontal fiscal equalisation about, the Commonwealth Grants Commission does many intricate calculations which determine how the $48 billion-a-year proceeds from the feds' goods and services tax are divided among the states. The commission works out the average amount of GST paid per person throughout Australia, then decides whether each state requires more or less than that, per person, to be able to deliver services of equal standard.

This equalisation process was introduced in the early 1930s to mollify the restive West Australians. Until just a few years ago, it meant Victoria and NSW got a lot less than the national average, while South Australia and Tasmania got a lot more than average and Queensland and WA got a bit more.

In 2004-05, NSW got just 83 per cent of the national average GST paid per person, while Victoria got 84 per cent. WA got 104 per cent and Queensland got 107 per cent (with SA getting 123 per cent and Tasmania 171 per cent).

But the huge increase in the resource states' taxable capacity thanks to booming mining royalties has changed all that. This financial year NSW's cut has risen to 96 per cent and Victoria's to 90 per cent, whereas Queensland's cut has fallen to 93 per cent and WA's to - get this - 72 per cent.

It works out that, in effect, Queensland's benefit from its mining royalties this year will be reduced by $1.2 billion and WA's by $2.5 billion. Of their combined loss of $3.7 billion, NSW gains $1.3 billion and Victoria $1.8 billion.

Still think you're getting nothing from the boom?

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Brave economist blows whistle on bosses' pay

You could be forgiven for not knowing it, but economists are meant to be tough on business. Their ideology holds that capitalism is good not because it's good for capitalists, but because it's good for consumers - and consumption is "the sole end and purpose of all production".

So said Adam Smith, who added that "the welfare of the producer ought to be attended to, only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer".

The economists' ideology holds that, when markets are working properly, most of the benefit flows to consumers in the form of lower prices and better service, with businesses making no more that "normal" profits (the lowest rate of profit needed to keep the firm's resources employed in its present industry).

Economists should also distinguish between the capitalists (the suppliers of capital - the shareholders) and the managers, who are supposed to be merely the agents of the shareholders who must at all times represent the true interests of the shareholders, never their own interests. Likewise, company directors are supposed to represent the shareholders' interests, not management's interests.

So economists are supposed to be pro-market, not pro-business and certainly not pro-management.

That's how it's supposed to be, but often not the way it is. In practice, economists who work for business aren't free to criticise it in public. The same goes for those who work for conservative governments (or Labor governments anxious to keep on side with business). And few academic economists take an interest in such mundane issues.

But another factor that helps explain the gap between principle and practice is that the economists' basic model recognises no role for collective action, including action by governments. So when things go wrong in markets, economists' first inclination is to defend the market and blame governments.

All this explains why economists have such a poor record in speaking out about excessive executive remuneration - as witness, the Productivity Commission's report on the subject of a few years back. That this is a case of market failure is as plain as a pikestaff, but the commission's economists searched under every rock without finding it.

One honourable exception to this glaring dereliction, however, is Diane Coyle, who tells it as it is in her latest book, The Economics of Enough. As her previous bestsellers attest, Dr Coyle - whose PhD is from Harvard - is a most orthodox economist.

Seeking to explain the origins of the explosion in executive pay, she attributes it to the deregulation of the financial markets in the US, Britain and elsewhere.

"Organised crime aside," she says, "the most ostentatious flaunting of wealth has emanated from the banking sector. As it turns out, these vast earnings and bonuses were undeserved. The bankers [in the US and Britain] ran up large losses, ruined their shareholders, and left taxpayers with the bill. It will be extraordinary if they turn out to have fooled, scared or bullied politicians around the world into stepping back from fundamental reform of the banking sector."

But the key point is the impact such high incomes in banking have had on the rest of society.

"The bonuses far in excess of salaries, and the spending on big houses, fast cars and designer clothes they funded, did create a climate of greed," she says.

"People in other professions who are in reality in the top 1 per cent or even 0.1 per cent of the income distribution were made to feel poor by the bankers.

"Banking bonus culture validated making a lot of money as a life and career goal. It made executives working in other jobs, including not only big corporations but the public sector too, believe that they deserved bonuses.

"Remuneration consultants, a small parasitic group providing a fig leaf justification for high salaries, helped ratchet up the pay and bonus levels throughout the economy.

"The whole merry-go-round of bonuses and performance-related pay is a sham. In almost every occupation and organisation it is almost impossible to identify the contribution made by any individual to profits and performance - complicated modern organisations all depend on teamwork and collective contributions."

So what can be done about it? In late 2009, the British government introduced a penal tax on bonuses above #25,000 in banking. The tax was criticised, not only by bankers but also by others who thought the measure impractical.

"But it was one of the few measures any government has so far taken that was absolutely right. The symbolism is vital even if by itself the measure doesn't bring to an end the corrosive culture of greed. Whatever the practical limitations on their actions, governments can still achieve a lot in symbolic terms, which should never be underestimated when it comes to impact."

And governments could do a lot more to change the social norms that helped destroy the Western financial system. For example, they could halt bonus payments in the public sector altogether, or introduce a general additional tax on non-fixed parts of people's pay packages.

"I am not opposed to people making more money if they studied hard or worked hard for it, or took the risk of setting up a successful new business - on the contrary, effort and entrepreneurship must be rewarded amply," Coyle says.

"Nevertheless, governments have to give a lead in restoring the sense of moral propriety and social connection between those people who are part of the extraordinarily wealthy global elite and the great majority of those with whom they share their own nation.

"Senior bankers should also contribute to this task of making greed and excess socially unacceptable once again." Amen to that.

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Understanding the Aussie dollar

Economic theory tells us the level of the exchange rate is an important factor in the health of the economy. Unfortunately, there's nothing in economic theory that can explain the Aussie dollar's strange behaviour in recent weeks. It's hard to know whether to cheer or boo.

We do know the Aussie has a strong and longstanding tendency to move in line with the prices we're getting for our commodity exports so, since during the past few years the prices of coal and iron ore have moved to record highs, it hasn't been surprising to see the Aussie rising to heights not seen since before it was floated in 1983.

It hit a peak of 110 US cents in early August, but seemed to settle at about 105 US cents. But in late September, during a bout of considerable anxiety on world markets about the state of the North Atlantic economies, it fell below parity, eventually getting down as low as 95 US cents.

But then this week it began going back up, reaching comfortably above parity, jumping 3 US cents in just 12 hours on Wednesday.

It's possible we've reverted to an earlier pattern where, when the global financial markets get particularly anxious about economic prospects, investors liquidate their short-term investments offshore and bring their money home to the safe haven of investment in government bonds. So the dollar appreciates (rises in value) and most other currencies depreciate (fall in value). Remarkably, this knee-jerk reaction can occur even when uncertainty about the fate of the economy is a major part of the anxiety.

That's step 1. Step 2 is for investors to calm down and start moving their money back overseas to destinations such as Australia in pursuit of higher returns than offered by bonds. If so, maybe that's what happened this week.

And if that's so, maybe step 2 has merely taken us back to square 1 - a dollar that settles well above parity. But who could be sure US cents Who knows what will happen the next time something really scary happens in Europe or the US cents Will the Aussie drop to, and stay at, a new level significantly below the 105 US cents it seemed to have settled at, or will it just go through a period of high volatility without actually changing its general level US cents

A point to note is that, though the media and markets' focus is always on our exchange rate with the greenback, economics teaches that what matters to the economy is our exchange rate with all our trading partners, not just the Americans.

Say you were taking a holiday in Britain. What would matter to you is our exchange rate with the pound. If you were going to Japan, it would be our exchange rate with the yen. In neither case would you regard our exchange rate against the greenback as particularly relevant.

It's the same story when Australian firms trade with Britain or Japan. Even if the price happens to be set in dollars - as it often is - the Aussie firm will translate that price into Aussie dollars, while the British or Japanese firm will translate it into their own currency.

Put the two together and what matters for the transaction is the Aussie-pound or Aussie-yen exchange rate. So we should be interested in our exchange rate with each of the countries with which we trade. And how much each bilateral exchange rate matters to us depends on how much trade we do with the particular country.

See where this is leading US cents The exchange rate that matters to the economy overall is the average exchange rate for all our trading partners, with each country's currency weighted according to its share of our two-way trade. Economists call this our ''effective'' exchange rate, which is represented by the trade-weighted index.

When you look at what's happened to our exchange rate against that index, you find the volatility in recent weeks is less. While we've depreciated against the greenback, we've appreciated against the euro and the Korean won.

There's always a lot of focus on what's happening to interest rates because we all know how important the rate of interest is to the strength of the economy. A rise in rates will slow economic growth by discouraging borrowing and spending; a fall in rates will hasten growth by encouraging borrowing and spending.

What's less well recognised is that the level of the exchange rate also affects the strength of the economy. So much so that the Reserve Bank brackets the two - interest rate and exchange rate - as ''monetary conditions''. When the exchange rate appreciates, this tends to slow the economy by reducing the price-competitiveness of exports and those domestically produced goods that compete against the now-cheaper imports in our domestic market.

It doesn't have much effect on domestic demand (our spending), but it does slow the growth of aggregate demand (our production - gross domestic product, in fact) by reducing exports and by diverting more of our spending into imports.

Conversely, when the exchange rate depreciates, this tends to speed the economy by improving the price-competitiveness of our export and import-competing industries. Domestic demand isn't much affected, but GDP improves because we export more, and more of our spending goes on domestically produced goods and services rather than imports.

This, of course, is why our manufacturers have been doing it tough under the high exchange rate. They've found it harder to export and to compete against imports. Though it's received far less public sympathy, our tourist industry has suffered in the same way, with fewer foreigners coming to Australia and more Aussies holidaying abroad rather than locally.

Our universities and other education exporters have been hit also.

So I'm quite sorry to see the dollar going back up this week after having fallen by up to 10 per cent from its heights. It would have been great to take a bit of the pressure off the manufacturers, tourist operators and education exporters.

The econocrats have a rule of thumb saying a sustained fall in the exchange rate of 10 per cent should lead to a rise in real GDP of about 0.75 percentage points over the following two years - say, 0.4 points in each year. (The rule also holds for a rise in the exchange rate causing slower GDP growth.)

So whereas a lasting fall in the Aussie might have been bad news for motorists (price of petrol) and people planning overseas trips, it would have helped make our multi-speed economy a little less uneven.

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Look within to pick up productivity

One of the tricks to success - in business, or in life - is to focus on the things that matter, not the things people (and hence, the media) are getting excited about this week. Of late we seem to be doing a lot of worrying about the wrong things.

For instance, our preference for bad news over good means we've been doing a lot of hand-wringing over the economic problems in Europe and the US. What's happening in China and the rest of developing Asia may be far less worrying - and hence, less interesting - but it's also far more important to the fate of our economy.

When we look at our economy, we give much more attention to the alleged two-speed economy - who's feeling hard done-by this week? - than to the truth that, with limited exceptions, the economy has been travelling well, is travelling well and is likely to continue travelling well.

As part of this, of late we've been devoting inordinate attention to the problems of the manufacturing sector (which accounts for 9 per cent of total employment), without any concern for the services sector (accounting for a mere 85 per cent of employment), even though two big service industries - tourism and education - have also been hard hit by the high dollar.

But even those of us happy to acknowledge how well our economy's travelling, thanks to high export prices and the mining construction boom, are less conscious of the sad truth that, underneath all that, the economy's productivity - output per unit of input - has stopped improving.

We're getting richer because the world is paying us a lot more for our exports and is engaged in a massive expansion of our mining industry, not because our businesses are getting more efficient at what they do.

That message is, however, getting through to big business and its various lobby groups. Only trouble is, in their search for a solution to the productivity problem they've been looking outside their firms, not inside. Perhaps if the government reformed the tax system, that would lift productivity. Or maybe going back to Work Choices would help.

It's possible that, while they come to our attention only when they're putting their oar into the public debate, most chief executives are busily engaged attending to their own, internal affairs. It's possible, but there doesn't seem much evidence of it.

That's why the most useful thing to come from last week's jobs forum in Canberra was the unveiling of a study on the leadership, culture and management practices of high-performing workplaces, sponsored by the Society for Knowledge Economics with funding from the federal government.

A team of academics from the University of NSW, the Australian National University, Macquarie University and the Copenhagen Business School examined 77 businesses in the services sector with more than 5600 employees. Most were medium size, and included law and accounting firms, advertising companies, consulting firms and employment agencies.

It's probably the most comprehensive study of workplace performance undertaken in Australia in the past 15 years. The performance of businesses was measured in six categories: profitability and productivity, innovation, employee emotions, fairness, leadership and customer orientation.

The study identified 12 high-performing workplaces and 13 low-performing workplaces, leaving most of the firms studied somewhere in the middle. So what are the characteristics of high-performing workplaces and how much better are they than the low-performing?

Well, not surprisingly, the best performers were more profitable and productive. According to the lead researcher, Dr Christina Boedker, high-performing workplaces are up to 12 per cent more productive and three times more profitable.

And it's not too surprising the best performers are better at innovation. They generate more new ideas and are better at capturing and assessing their employees' ideas. In consequence, they make more improvements to services and products, production processes, management structures and marketing methods.

But some treat-'em-mean-to-keep-'em-keen managers will be surprised that high-performing outfits do better on employee emotions. They have higher levels of job satisfaction, employee commitment and willingness to exert extra effort, and lower levels of anxiety, fear, depression and feelings of inadequacy. Part of the bottom-line consequence of this is lower rates of staff turnover.

The employees of high-performing firms tend to be more satisfied people, are being paid fairly and company policies are being implemented fairly.

High-performing firms rate better on customer experience. They try harder to understand customer needs, are better at acting on customer feedback and better at achieving their own goals for customer satisfaction.

But the study is particularly concerned with the performance and attitudes of managers, which business-types these days put under the heading of ''leadership''. In high-performing outfits, managers and supervisors devote more time to managing their people, have clear values and practise what they preach.

They welcome criticism as a learning opportunity. They foster involvement and co-operation among staff, give them opportunities to lead activities, encourage development and learning, give them recognition and acknowledgement and encourage them to think about problems in new ways.

The management practices that do best, according to the study, are being highly responsive to changes in customers' and suppliers' circumstances, encouraging high employee participation in decision-making, achieving on-the-job learning through mentoring and job rotation, making effective use of information and technology and attracting and retaining high quality people.

Of course, different managers have different cultures or styles. Some emphasise results, some their people and some coping with change. The study finds all three approaches can make a high-performance workplace. The one style that doesn't work is the ''control'' culture.

Wow. How'd you like to work for such a boss in such an enlightened business? Pity is, such firms accounted for only 15 per cent of the sample.

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Taxation reform is a cargo cult for business

When you look at the varied contributions to the public policy debate made by business people and their lobby groups, one attitude unites them: the politicians owe them a living.

Government, it seems, has one overwhelming responsibility: to make life easier for business. You see this in business people's views on "competitiveness". Economics has a lot to say about competitiveness, but not what business people imagine it says.

To them, competitiveness refers to the ability of Australian firms to compete in international markets against the enemy, firms from other countries. It's a zero-sum game, apparently: either we win and they lose, or they win and we lose.

Hence our government's obligation to improve our team's competitiveness by cutting the taxes Australian firms have to pay or by weakening the bargaining power of employees and so cutting our firms' labour costs.

What economics actually says is, first, trade is a positive-sum game: both countries win by exploiting the "gains from trade". Second, competitiveness isn't a gift governments confer on their businesses, it's a stricture they impose as the best way of ensuring firms aren't able to make excessive ("super normal") profits at the expense of the intended beneficiaries of competitiveness, Aussie consumers.

Most of the micro-economic reform project was aimed at increasing competitiveness by making life tougher for business: by reducing protection against competition from imports (the exports of our supposed enemies), by removing regulations that inhibited competition between local firms, and by beefing up prohibitions on anti-competitive practices.

We know micro reform failed to achieve a lasting increase in the rate of productivity improvement. Its lasting benefit has been to make the economy more flexible and resilient in response to economic shocks.

In particular, by increasing the intensity of competition in so many markets it has robbed many businesses of their former pricing power - including their ability to conclude sweetheart deals with their unions - and made our economy markedly less inflation-prone.

So much for the happy notion micro reform involves governments making life easier for business.

Further evidence of business's cargo-cult attitude to the role of government can be seen in its approach to tax reform. Business has an insatiable obsession with taxation. It wouldn't matter how much reform we'd achieved, its demands for more reform would be undiminished. That's because it's convinced the less tax it has to pay the easier its life will be.

There's a large element of self-delusion in this. Neither business people nor punters genuinely understand that, in the final analysis, companies - being inanimate objects - don't bear any tax burden. In the end, only humans pay tax - whether they're the owners, the managers, the employees or the customers of the company.

Just how the ultimate burden of all the various taxes companies pay is shared between those groups does matter, of course, but that's a complex empirical question with uncertain answers. And it's a safe bet all the sparring over company tax at last week's tax forum was motivated more by perceptions and appearances than empirical realities.

The key reform demanded at the forum, pushed hard by the Business Council, was for the rate of company tax to be cut from 30 to 25 per cent, with the cost to be covered by an increase in the GST.

Don't like the sound of that one? Neither did the union reps. But, cried the business people and the tax economists, didn't you know empirical studies show the ultimate "incidence" of company tax falls largely on labour? Since much the same is true of the GST, what rational reason could unions have to object to such a neutral rebalancing of the tax mix? But that question cuts both ways. If the ultimate incidence of company tax is borne by labour, why are company executives so desperately keen to get its rate reduced? (And how do the tax economists explain why such a shifting of the furniture would be so clearly beneficial for the economy overall?)

A point rarely mentioned is that the existence of dividend imputation means the local shareholders of companies have nothing to gain. For them, a lower company tax rate just means smaller franking credits. And that being the case, exactly why does big business imagine a lower company tax rate would be such a benefit? Perhaps because many, maybe most, of the chief executives who make up the Business Council actually represent the interests of foreign shareholders, who aren't subject to the imputation system.

For further evidence of business's cargo-cult mentality, consider what I call the "leadership theory of tax reform", so much in evidence at the forum. Consider the air of righteous disappointment exhibited by business leaders and commentators when Julia Gillard failed to meet the Business Council's demand that she commit to a 10-year program of tax reform.

Oh, if only the government would exhibit some Leadership, they cried. Come again? This government is already knee-deep in unfinished tax reform, all with no active support from business (the deeply divided Business Council) and much active opposition (the business coalition running TV ads against the carbon tax).

This is even though some businesses urged the reform on the government (we want certainty on the price of carbon) and many parts of business stand to gain from the mining tax (20 per cent of the desired cut in the company tax rate, concessions to small business and a one-third increase in the captive market compulsory super delivers to the financial services industry).

All the righteous calls for politicians to show Leadership on tax reform come without the slightest commitment that business will back up the leader when the going gets tough. Dream on, guys.

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Doomsday rate cut scenarios off mark

If the Reserve Bank ends up cutting the official interest rate by 0.25 percentage points on Melbourne Cup Day, it won't be because the economy has weakened so much as because it's not looking as strong - and thus, inflationary - as the Reserve had earlier expected.

The air is full of uncertainty and fear about the fate of the European and American economies, with one excitable pundit even predicting a ''world recession''. But, short of a major meltdown, the North Atlantic countries' troubles won't be a big part of the Reserve's reasons for fine-tuning the stance of its monetary (interest rate) policy.

No one knows what the future holds, and there's a ''non-trivial probability'', as the economists say, that the US economy will start contracting again and, more significantly, the problems in Greece will be so badly handled that the European economies implode.

Were that to happen, be in no doubt: the Reserve wouldn't just be lowering rates by one or two clicks, it would be slashing rates in much the way it did in the global financial crisis of 2008-09. But that's far from the authorities' ''central forecast''. They expect the US to grow by a bit under 2 per cent next year, while the euro area achieves no growth.

What would plunge Europe and the world back into crisis - with Europe entering a period of severe contraction - would be for Greece to leave the euro. That's because of the panic this would cause to euro depositors in many other member-countries.

It's likely the Europeans well understand what they need to do to avoid a conflagration: first, restructure the Greek government's debt (which means bond holders accepting big write-downs); second, recapitalise those European banks hard-hit by the write-down; third, have the European Central Bank purchase large quantities of European governments' bonds so as to lower bond yields and, hence, commercial interest rates.

So the Europeans' problem isn't knowing what to do, it's achieving the agreement of 17 squabbling member-countries to do it. The likeliest outcome is that they do enough to avert catastrophe, but not enough to prevent recurring episodes of financial-market jitters.

Our authorities' forecasts for 2012 aren't far from those the International Monetary Fund published last month. These have the US growing by 1.8 per cent and the euro area by 1.1 per cent. If so, that leaves the world economy growing by, what - 1.5 per cent? No, by 4 per cent - which is about the trend rate of growth. Huh?

What's missing from the sum is China's growth, expected to slow to a mere 9 per cent, and India's, to a paltry 7.5 per cent. Even Latin America is expected to grow by 4 per cent and sub-Saharan Africa by 5.8 per cent.

So much for a world recession.

Weakness in the North Atlantic doesn't equal weakness in Australia by a process of magic. You have to trace linkages between them and us. An important one is psychological: the effect of a sliding sharemarket, worrying news from the North Atlantic and over-excited talk of world recessions on the confidence of Australian consumers and business people.

As for ''real'' (tangible) linkages, these days the US and Europe aren't big export customers of ours. So the key question is the extent to which weakness in the North Atlantic leads to weakness in China, India and the rest of developing Asia.

These days, China is a lot less dependent on exports to the North Atlantic than it used to be. And the Chinese authorities have both the political imperative and the economic instruments needed to keep domestic demand growing fast enough to prevent much of a slowdown in production and employment growth.

So, barring a European implosion, the North Atlantic troubles' effect on us is likely to be limited mainly to their effect on confidence. If so, what are the domestic factors that could lead the Reserve to lower interest rates a little?

In May the Reserve was forecasting growth in 2011 of 4.25 per cent. In August it cut that to 3.25 per cent. Today it would probably say 3 per cent.

But get this: the overwhelming reason for these revisions is the temporary effect of the Queensland floods, in particular the loss of output from coalmines that are taking far longer than expected to resume production.

There have been various highly publicised areas of weakness in the domestic economy - the troubles our manufacturers are having coping with a high exchange rate, very weak department store sales and weak housing starts - but overall (and excluding extreme weather events), there's little sign of weakness.

Despite the much-publicised fall in

consumer confidence, consumer spending grew by 3.2 per cent over the year to June, bang on trend. Business investment has been strong and is sure to get stronger. And earlier figures showed worsening inflation and worryingly strong growth in labour costs per unit of production.

Indicators released this week show strong growth in exports and strengthening retail sales, home building approvals and non-residential building approvals.

The strongest evidence of weakening is in the labour market, with employment growth clearly slowing from its earlier fast past, and the unemployment rate jumping 0.4 percentage points to 5.3 per cent in just two months.

But this is a puzzle because, though growth in employment is weak, growth in hours worked isn't. And though surveyed unemployment is supposed to have jumped, the number of people on the dole is steady.

So how does the Reserve come to be contemplating lowering the official interest rate a little? Because its job is to keep interest rates at a level sufficient to keep inflation travelling within its 2 to 3 per cent target range, and the outlook for inflation has become less threatening.

For a start, the Bureau of Statistics has revised the underlying inflation rate over the year to June from 2.75 per cent to 2.5 per cent. Second, the outlook for economic growth isn't quite as strong as it had been. And third, the atmospherics of the labour market have improved, with more consumers worried about losing their jobs and employers less worried about the emergence of excessive wage demands.

The present stance of monetary policy is ''mildly restrictive''. But if the risk of inflation rising above the target range is now much reduced, the stance of policy should be returned to neutral. That would require a fall in the official rate of just one click - two at most.

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Tax cut buffet but no appetite for fixes

Seen anything on the tax reform smorgasbord you fancy? How about cuts in the top two rates of income tax? How about abolition of conveyancing duty? Or maybe an end to stamp duty on insurance policies?

For business people there's a special range of goodies on display: a cut in the company tax rate to 25 per cent, special tax breaks for mining and construction companies that use Australian steel, abolition of payroll tax. Or maybe cuts in company tax that are limited to small businesses.

Don't see anything that particularly appeals? That's OK, why not concoct your own, custom-built concession? It's a bit late, but why not email it in as a submission to the tax forum? Be sure to say it will do wonders for the economy - which is why you're proposing it, naturally. I'm sure it will get as much consideration as all the other submissions.

Sorry, but the tax forum reminds me of nothing so much as a bunch of kiddies lining up to sit on Santa's knee and whisper into his ear what they'd like for Christmas. Dream on, kids. The harsh truth is that neither the federal nor the state governments are in any position to simply cut this tax or that. They're all struggling to get their budgets back to surplus.

So one of the ground rules Wayne Swan laid down was that all proposals for tax reform had to be "revenue neutral" - if you cut one tax you have to increase another by the same amount. You'd like to pay less income tax? No probs - we'll just increase the rate of the GST to cover it. Or maybe we could increase the rate and remove the exemptions for food, education and health care. That would make the GST a far more robust revenue-raiser.

Increase GST revenue far enough and we could also afford to abolish the payroll tax business keeps whingeing about. As for conveyancing duty, the ideal way to finance its abolition would be to broaden annual land tax to cover owner-occupied homes. Someone has suggested local government could be paid a fee to collect it along with council rates.

Kind of takes the fun out of tax reform, doesn't it?

Of course, were governments to get serious about reform there are a lot of other worthy but nasty things they could do. Bite the bullet and get rid of negative gearing, for instance. Stop family trusts being such a tax lurk. Crack down on the abuse of work-related deductions (especially by doctors and lawyers jetting off to conferences at exotic resorts).

Then there's superannuation. It's always been taxed heavily in favour of high income-earners, but Peter Costello's decision to make all private pension income tax-free to people 60 and over was the ultimate in favouring wrinklies over workers.

I should tell you the latest fashion among tax-reform aficionados is for income (particularly high incomes) and capital (particularly companies and capital gains) to be taxed more lightly, with consumption and real estate taxed more heavily.

This is because financial capital and high income earners are more mobile internationally - more capable of moving to countries where they're taxed more lightly - whereas wage-slaves and consumers are far less mobile and real estate is utterly immobile.

So, in an era of growing tax competition between countries, you tax those who can't escape more heavily and those who can escape less heavily. That this means the well-off pay less tax while the middle class and the workers pay more is purely coincidental, I assure you.

If you're detecting a touch of cynicism in my reaction to all this, you're not wrong. Economists, business people and professional lobbyists would happily meet in Parliament House once a month to preach to each other about the need for tax reform.

But if ever there was a country that runs a mile at the hint of tax reform, we're it. Most of the rest of the developed world introduced a GST in the 1960s and '70s, but we trembled on the brink for 25 years before taking the plunge in 2000.

The way tax reform works in Australia is that whenever governments are persuaded to introduce some major reform, the opposition automatically opposes it and starts a hugely successful scare campaign, urged on by every adversely affected interest group, the shock jocks and any other media outlets looking for cheap cheers.

Meanwhile, the people who'd benefit from the reform - even those who pressed the government to take it on - fall silent or, like the Business Council, get cold feet and run around saying the time is not yet ripe. All the academic urgers peel off the moment the government introduces a less-than-pure element to its scheme.

The obvious truth is Julia Gillard would need her head examined to take on more tax reform at present. Her plate is already over-full. You'd never know it from all the chat this week, but we're already engaged in two vitally important tax reforms: the carbon tax and the mining tax. The first is complicated but minor in its effect on household budgets; the second is a no-brainer.

Yet Tony Abbott has been hugely successful in his dishonest scaremongering against both taxes. He is campaigning against all tax reform, promising to reverse both measures and pretending taxes only ever need to be cut. Are the Liberal-leaning reform advocates doing anything to set him straight? Hell no - that's Julia's lookout. And the polls say the man with the neanderthal views on tax reform will be swept into office at the first opportunity.

When it comes to tax reform, Australians are utterly lily-livered.

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Two minds make us all muddled thinkers

Conventional economics got set in its ways long before neuroscientists discovered something that helps explain why the decisions consumers and business people make are often far from rational: our brains have two different, and sometimes competing, systems for deciding things.

Psychologists call it system one and system two thinking. System one is our intuitive system of processing information. It's fast, automatic, effortless, implicit and emotional. It's controlled by the earlier, more primitive part of our brain. It's highly efficient and is thus the most appropriate tool for the majority of mundane decisions we make every day.

By contrast, system two thinking is slower, conscious, effortful, explicit and more logical. It's controlled by the more recent, frontal part of our brain. When we weigh the costs and benefits of alternative courses of action in a systematic and organised manner, we're engaged in system two thinking.

In the hands of scholars who study behavioural ethics - such as Max Bazerman and Ann Tenbrunsel, the authors of Blind Spots - system one is seen as our "want-self" and system two as our "should-self". Almost all of us regard ourselves as ethical. Before decisions arise our should-selves think "I should behave ethically, therefore I will".

When we're looking back on decisions, our should-selves think: "I should have behaved ethically, therefore I did." Trouble is, when the decision is actually being made, our want-selves take over and we often do things that ignore the ethical implications of our actions.

The task for behavioural ethicists, therefore, is to help us find strategies that allow our should-selves to dominate our want-selves. In another context, psychologists say we have different systems for wanting things and liking things. So some of the stuff we really want, and spend a lot of time pursuing, doesn't give us as much satisfaction as we thought it would once we've got it.

This explains why children will spend weeks nagging parents to buy them a guitar or a pet but quickly lose interest once they have it.

It also explains a lot of futile adult behaviour. I suspect our two thinking systems explain the paradox of advertising. I'm not influenced by all the advertising I see, but a lot of people are. Do you think that, too? Trouble is, most people think it.

If it's true, just who are the dummies that fall for advertising? And how come so many businesses spend millions on advertising, convinced it's money well spent?

I think all of us are more susceptible to advertising than we realise. Most advertising is designed to appeal to our emotions and instincts, not our intellect. In other words, it's aimed at our unconscious, system one decision-maker and we're not conscious of the way it affects the choices we make. Meanwhile, our conscious, reasoning system two brain is unimpressed by the illogical connections we see in ads.

I'm sure they're not all Robinson Crusoe, but economists often show signs of having two-track minds. They believe certain things intellectually, but these beliefs don't seem to have the effect on their behaviour that you'd expect.

For instance, when you criticise their model for its absurd assumption that people are always rational - carefully calculating and self-interested - they'll tell you they don't actually believe people are rational; that's just a convenient assumption needed to get the model going.

But then they'll argue vigorously for propositions that come from the model, oblivious to the way those propositions rest on the assumption that people are indeed rational in all they decide.

Or, take the exaltation of gross domestic product. When you argue that GDP is a poor measure of national well-being and point out its various limitations, economists will agree. But that won't stop them continuing to treat GDP is though it's the one thing that matters.

One of the most ubiquitous problems in daily life - and thus in the economy - is one the economists' model assumes away: achieving self-control. We need to control our natural urges to eat too much, to smoke, to drink too much, to gamble too much, spend too much, watch too much television, get too little exercise and even to work too much.

Here, again, we seem to have two selves at work: an unconscious self that's emotional and shortsighted and a conscious self that's reasoning and farsighted. We have trouble controlling ourselves in circumstances where the benefits are immediate and certain, whereas the costs are longer-term and uncertain.

When you come home tired from work, for instance, the benefits of slumping in front of the telly are immediate, whereas the costs - feeling tired the next day; looking back on your life and realising you could have done a lot better if you'd got off your backside and played a bit of sport, sought a further qualification at tech, studied harder for exams, spent more time talking to your children, etc - are not so clear-cut.

Similarly, the reward from eating food is instant whereas the costs of overeating are uncertain and far off: being regarded as physically unattractive, becoming obese, becoming a diabetic, dying younger, etc.

As everyone who has tried to diet, give up smoking, control their drinking, save or get on top of their credit card debt knows, it's hard to achieve the self-control our conscious, future-selves want us to achieve.

People have developed many strategies to help their future-selves gain control over their immediate-selves, including pre-commitment devices - similar to those proposed by the Productivity Commission to assist problem gamblers.

Economics will become a more useful discipline when its practitioners catch up with developments in neuroscience and offer us solutions to common behaviour problems it now assumes away.

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You're not as ethical as you think

Another long weekend, another personal question: how honest are you? According to the people who study these things, not as much as you think you are.

In an experiment in which people were asked to solve puzzles and were paid a set amount for each puzzle they solved, some participants were told to check their answers against an answer sheet, count the number of questions answered correctly, put their answer form through a shredder, report the number of questions they got right to the experimenter and receive the money they had earned.

A second group wasn't allowed to shred their answers before reporting how many they got right. Those whose claims about how many they got right couldn't be checked claimed to have got significantly more correct than the second group.

Those who cheated probably counted a problem they would have answered correctly if only they hadn't made a careless mistake. Or they counted a problem they would have got right if only they'd had another 10 seconds.

In other words, they didn't tell blatant lies, they just gave themselves the benefit of any doubt, bent the rules a little bit in their own favour. And get this: they wouldn't have thought they were cheating.

When subjects are asked to rate how ethical they are compared with other people on a scale of 0-100, where 50 is average, the average rating is usually about 75. That is, almost all of us consider ourselves to be more ethical than other people.

Clearly, that's not possible. In their book, Blind Spots, Max Bazerman, a professor of business administration at Harvard Business School, and Ann Tenbrunsel, a professor of business ethics at the University of Notre Dame, say most of us behave ethically most of the time.

Even so, most of us overestimate our ethicality relative to others. We're unaware of the gap between how ethical we think we are and how ethical we actually are. We suffer from blind spots.

Bazerman and Tenbrunsel are exponents of the emerging field of ''behavioural ethics'' - the study of how people actually behave when confronted with ethical dilemmas. They say our ethical behaviour is often inconsistent and, at times, even hypocritical.

''People have the innate ability to maintain a belief while acting contrary to it,'' they say. ''Moral hypocrisy occurs when individuals' evaluations of their own moral transgressions differ substantially from their evaluations of the same transgressions committed by others.''

Hypocrisy is part of the human condition; we're all guilty of it. So you could say accusing someone else of being hypocritical is itself a hypocritical act.

Some people are consciously, deliberately unethical. But Bazerman and Tenbrunsel stress their interest is in unintentional ethical misbehaviour. How can we behave unethically and not realise it?

We suffer from ''bounded ethicality'' because we suffer from ''bounded awareness'' - the common tendency to exclude important and relevant information from our decisions by placing arbitrary and dysfunctional boundaries around our definition of a problem.

One way we limit our awareness is by making decisions on the basis of the information that's immediately available to us - maybe that someone has presented to us - rather than asking what information would be relevant to making the best decision, including other aspects of the situation and other people affected by it.

An organisation's ethical gap is more than just the sum of the ethical gaps of its individual employees, the authors say. Group work, the building block of organisations, creates additional ethical gaps.

Goupthink - the tendency for cohesive groups to avoid a realistic appraisal of alternative courses of action in favour of unanimity - can prevent groups from challenging questionable decisions.

And functional boundaries can prevent individuals from viewing a problem as an ethical one. Organisations often allocate different aspects of a decision to different parts of the organisation.

''As a result, the typical ethical dilemma tends to be viewed as an engineering, marketing or financial problem, even when the ethical relevance is obvious to other groups,'' the authors say. So everyone can avoid coming to grips with the ethical issue by assuming someone else is dealing with it.

Now consider this. You're a 55-year-old and have just been diagnosed with early-stage cancer. You consult a surgeon, who wants to operate to try to remove the cancer. You consult a radiologist who recommends blasting the cancer with radiation. You consult a homeopathic doctor who believes you should use less intrusive medicine and wait to see how the cancer develops.

Many of us would assume each specialist is lying so as to drum up business. But it's actually more complicated. Each person genuinely believes their treatment to be superior, but they fail to recognise their beliefs are biased in a self-serving manner.

They don't realise their training, incentives and preferences prevent them from offering objective advice. They just don't realise they're facing an ethical dilemma. They don't see they face a conflict of interest because they view conflicts of interest as problems of intentional corruption.

Bounded ethicality occurs because our cognitive limitations - the limitations of the way our brains work - leave us unaware of the moral implications of our decisions. Aspects of everyday work life - including goals, rewards, compliance systems and informal pressures - contribute to ''ethical fading,'' a process by which ethical dimensions are eliminated from a decision.

It's common for decisions at work to be classified as a ''business decision'' rather than an ''ethical decision,'' thus increasing the likelihood we will behave unethically.

Sometimes differences in language allow ethical fading. Albert Speer, one of Hitler's ministers and trusted advisers, admitted after the war that by labelling himself an ''administrator'' of Hitler's plan he convinced himself that issues relating to the treatment of people were not part of his job.

Why does the way we classify decisions matter? Because classification often affects the decisions that follow. When we fail to recognise a decision as an ethical one, whether due to our own cognitive limitations or because external forces cause ethical fading, this failure could well affect how we analyse the decision and steer us towards unintended, unethical behaviour.

Why do we predict we will behave one way and then behave another way, over and over throughout our lives? General principles and attitudes drive our predictions; we see the forest but not the trees. As the situation approaches, however, we begin to see the trees and the forest disappears.

Our behaviour is driven by details, not abstract principles.

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Pinned down by fear of possibilities, not outcomes

It's not something economists emphasise. Indeed, they prefer not to think about it because it reminds them of the limits of their so-called science. But the peregrinations of the economy are as much about psychology - moods and feelings - as tangible economic forces.

When you view the economy from outside, what you see is might and power.

Big corporations with towering offices, branches in every suburb, huge factories, gleaming shopping complexes, thousands of employees, annual turnover of hundreds of millions of dollars.

Then you have the big governments supposedly running the show. The federal government spending a budget of $360 billion a year.

The Reserve Bank moving interest rates up, or down, at will. The total value of all the goods and services Australia produces in a year is $1.4 trillion.

And against all that is me or you. No wonder we feel like pawns in a huge game, pushed this way and that by forces beyond our control.

But, last week, a student reminded me how bizarre it is that the world economy is built on something as nebulous as ''confidence''.

We may be as insignificant as ants, but when enough of us push in the same direction, we can make the global economy tremble. Take banks. They accept deposits from people who are free to withdraw their money at will, but then they lend that money to someone for 25 years.

So were it not for government protections, a run of depositors demanding their money back could bring the mightiest bank crashing down. When people see a queue forming outside a bank, all their instincts tell them to join it.

Take the sharemarket. If people are keener to sell a company's shares than to buy them at any moment, down comes the price - and, if it's one of our big companies, the retirement savings of people across the land take a dip.

If a company's shares fall, or if shares fall generally, the chances increase that the next move will be down rather than back up.

Take consumer confidence. When the economy looks like it's slowing and people worry about the possibility of losing their job, they postpone taking on new commitments and cut their spending on inessentials, just to be on the safe side. If enough people think and act that way, their fears become self-fulfilling and a self-reinforcing cycle develops.

Their reduced spending causes businesses to lay off staff, news of this causes others to become more precautious, and this, and the greatly reduced spending of the jobless, prompts another round of job losses and belt-tightening.

Our being social animals - our moods and actions are heavily influenced by the moods and actions of the people around us - means these swings easily develop momentum.

They work in both directions, of course. When we're confident, we spend, move to bigger or better homes and push up share prices with gay abandon.

When things are on the up, we can't imagine they'll ever stop rising; when things are heading down, we can't imagine they'll ever stop falling.

These swings in consumer confidence are matched by swings in business confidence. Business people take their lead from consumers, but they're just as susceptible to the mood swings of their own class.

The availability of credit amplifies these swings.

Households and businesses borrow heavily to take advantage of the good times, get ahead of rising property prices and keep the party going. On the way down, their high levels of debt add to their fears, caution and cuts.

So the economy is driven by alternating waves of excessive optimism and excessive pessimism.

At all times it looks terribly tangible, huge and inscrutable. But the booms and slumps are being driven by the nebulous moods and feelings of the human animal. Note, it doesn't matter whether the fears that set off these chains of adverse developments - runs on banks, falls in share prices, loss of consumer confidence - are well-founded or ill-founded.

Their consequences are real, regardless of their origins.

Adding to the insecurity and uncertainty - especially at times like these - is one of the hallmarks of the human animal, our insatiable curiosity.

We always want to know what's happening, why it's happening, how the world works and what the future holds.

The economies of Europe have serious debt problems. They've been grappling with those problems for months without resolving them.

We have no idea how well or badly this episode will end, nor even when. But every other week the world's financial markets suffer another bout of nerves and drop share prices further.

This increases the pressure on Europe's politicians to find a solution, but probably also increases the likelihood of disaster.

Every time our shares take another dive, the saga moves to the media's centre stage and they attempt, yet again, to explain its complexities and ask more experts to predict how things will turn out.

Our crazy, unceasing urge to ask people who can't know to speculate about what the future holds arises from what psychologists call our ''illusion of control'' - our tendency to overestimate our ability to control events.

We want to know all about the events in Europe and elsewhere and how they will affect us because ''forewarned is forearmed'', and just in case there is something we can do to protect ourselves.

In truth, however, the main thing we are doing is putting the wind up ourselves long before it is possible to know what will happen and how seriously it will affect us in Australia.

My guess is, what will hurt us most is our fear of the possibilities, not the ultimate events.

The trouble with moods and feelings is their ability to influence hard economic facts.

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Memo bosses: happier staff work better

In the quest to lift the flagging productivity of labour, we can go back to old, failed ideas or move on to new ones. Last week Peter Reith came out of retirement to urge the Liberals to get tough with workers and reopen class warfare.

Want to get more out of your workers, make them work at unsociable hours for normal hourly rates, keep wage rises tiny or simply whittle away at their conditions? Re-introduce statutory individual contracts and split workers off from their union so they lose all bargaining power.

Does this mean you spend most of the year negotiating one-on-one with your employees because Mary wants to leave early on Mondays, Jenny and Julie want to job-share and Bill wants time off to do a tech course?

Hell, no. That's just the advertising. In reality you get your lawyer to cook up a single contract document that runs all your way and tell each of your employees to feel free to leave if they don't want to sign.

It's a good way to minimise wage costs if you don't mind having a surly, resentful staff, if they're supervised tightly enough for you to be confident they won't be able to find ways to get back at you, if they're mainly unskilled and if unemployment is high.

But if their work is skilled, if you need them to accept a high degree of responsibility with limited supervision, if there are shortages of skilled labour and rival employers are on the poach, it's a great way to damage a good business.

I'm sure there are second-rate business people urging the Libs to restore their former ability to screw their workers with impunity, but I hardly think it's the way to a brighter, more productive future.

The first stage of employer enlightenment comes when they seek to improve employees' performance with monetary incentives: merit increases to selected workers, bonuses or other forms of performance pay.

This approach makes sense to model-bound economists and money-minded executives, but industrial psychologists know it often backfires. Workers do care about pay, but they care less about the absolute level of their pay than about its relative level - that is, what they're getting compared with others are getting, particularly those they consider their equals. In other words, play favourites with pay and you're just as likely to create dissatisfaction as satisfaction.

The other thing to remember (which many economists and business people don't) is that when you establish a culture that good performance is rewarded with money, you tend to demotivate people from performing well for other, more intrinsic reasons. You debase the currency, so to speak.

What never occurs to second-rate managers - the sort of managers who run to politicians for legal solutions to their inadequate relationships with their workers; the sort who never reach the ultimate stage of human-relations enlightenment - is that most workers want to work in an environment in which they can trust their bosses and be trusted by them, where they can give and receive loyalty.

Why wouldn't you want to work in such an environment? Recent research by two Canadian economists, John Helliwell, of the University of British Columbia, and Haifang Huang, of the University of Alberta, shows that life satisfaction - happiness - is significantly higher among workers who work where they rank management trustworthiness highly.

For example, the roughly one quarter of surveyed workers who rated trust in management at nine or 10 on a 10-point scale also rated their satisfaction with life at 8.3 on a 10-point scale, compared with an average of 7.5 for the quarter or more who rated trust in management at five or below.

And, get this: for the whole sample of workers, a change in trust in management of just 0.7 points had the same effect on life satisfaction as a 31 per cent change in income. But why should a hard-headed manager care about the happiness of the people working for them?

Well, one reason is that, unless managers are money-hungry to a quite inhuman extent, they themselves would get more satisfaction being the boss of an outfit where everyone gets on and pulls together.

Even a manager should see there is more to life than money (and, please, spare me the sermon about how corporation law requires you to maximise profits for the shareholders). But, if that's not a good enough argument for you, try this: longitudinal research finds that happier people tend to be more successful in all dimensions of their lives - their incomes, their careers, their health and their relationships.

It's not hard to believe successful people are happier, but this is saying the reverse: being of a happier disposition tends to make people more successful. More specifically, happy workers make more money, receive more promotions and better supervisor ratings, and are better citizens at work.

So, if employers want to offer a satisfaction-inducing working environment, what must they do? The British psychologist Peter Warr has identified five factors as important to job satisfaction. First, opportunities for personal control. This means having some discretion - autonomy - in how to tackle problems, apply skills and envisage outcomes.

Second, jobs with a variety of tasks. Many jobs are naturally varied but highly repetitive jobs are soul-destroying. When workers work in teams, roles can be shared.

Third, good supervisors provide a balance of freedom and supervision. The ideal ratio of positive to negative feedback is about six to one.

Fourth, jobs that afford people respect and status are likely to engender feelings of competence and pride. In the best organisations, the respect that is inherent in some high-status jobs can be extended to all jobs.

Finally, have clear requirements and information on how to meet the requirements.

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