How politics came to trump economics in Canberra

How does the federal government really work? Is it as we were told in Yes, Minister, with the bureaucrats actually in charge, quietly manipulating the politicians? Or are public servants actually the servants of their political masters, as the pollies focus more on getting re-elected than running the country well?

Does Treasury dominate the other departments and the economic advice going to government? Do bureaucrats still give ministers "frank and fearless" advice, or has their role been usurped by the ever-growing army of ministerial staffers, politically aligned think tanks and lobby groups?

In truth, it’s hard for outsiders to be sure. But a new book by a former 30-year senior Treasury officer, Paul Tilley, Changing Fortunes, is surprisingly frank and fearless in spelling out how things work, and how Treasury’s relationship with the elected government has "changed dramatically in recent times".

Last month Scott Morrison said he saw the bureaucrats’ role as implementing the government’s policies. Their advisory role was limited to advising the government of any problems that might arise during that implementation.

Tilley makes it clear this isn’t just what Morrison would like, it’s pretty much what he and his recent predecessors have long had. Treasury gives much information to the treasurer, but avoids giving written policy advice it believes would be unwelcome. What little frank advice is given comes verbally, as part of the private discussion between the treasurer and Treasury secretary.

Tilley says the art of policy advising involves understanding the true nature of the problem, predicting the consequences of policy options and framing effective policy advice.

To be influential, however, policy advisers need to find a balance between having sufficient separation from the raw politics of government to maintain a strong policy framework, on one hand, and having sufficient responsiveness to ministers to be listened to, on the other.

"Treasury’s influence spectrum had ‘frank and fearless advice’ at one end and full ‘responsiveness to government’ at the other," he writes. The trick was the find the right spot in the middle.

But by 2014, under Tony Abbott, "Treasury was now at the full responsiveness-to-government extreme," he writes.

His book is a history of Treasury from its establishment in 1901. "Treasury has long considered itself to be the best economic policy advising agency in Australia.

"Its favoured economic policy framework has for the most part been grounded in neoclassical economics - a belief in the power of markets, and the inherent tendency of supply and demand forces to move towards equilibrium.

"Non-achievement of equilibrium must be caused then, by some market impediment or government interference, and Treasury has seen it as its job to tackle those impediments or that interference.

"If there has been one enduring belief within Treasury – its light on the hill – this is it," he writes.

This is what Tilley means by Treasury’s possession – unlike so many other departments - of a "strong policy framework".

"If there has been a central defining culture in Treasury, it has been around analytical excellence – having the strongest policy framework and the best ideas. If there has been one recurring constraint on Treasury’s policy effectiveness, it has been too narrow in its focus and closed to alternative perspectives," he says.

Tilley’s title, Changing Fortunes, recognises that, over its 118-year life, Treasury’s influence has waxed and waned.

For its first 30 years it was the government’s bookkeeper. It evolved into an economic policy agency only after the Great Depression revealed its inability to provide authoritative advice on economic policy.

The economists arrived from the 1930s, with the advent of Keynesianism. The "golden years" for the economy in the 1950s and ‘60s were also golden for Treasury, which grew in size and status, leading the debate about economic ideas and allowing its influence and strength to give it "a level of arrogance".

This did not sit comfortably with the increasingly assertive governments of the post-Menzies era. Treasury was pushed out into the cold by Gough Whitlam, and kept there by Malcolm Fraser. Treasury’s advice remained frank and fearless, but was considered dogmatic, and often wasn’t listened to. I think this was when our Yes, Minister era ended.

Relations became more constructive when Bob Hawke and Paul Keating arrived, and continued so under John Howard and Peter Costello. "There was a sense of partnership in the Treasury-government relationships, and with the advancement of economic reforms that Treasury advocated it again influenced the policy agenda."

But for the past decade, first under the Rudd-Gillard-Rudd government, then under Abbott-Turnbull-Morrison, the "political chaos" has robbed governments of the sustained political capital needed to pursue difficult reforms. Governments fighting for their political survival have maintained a "relentless push for message over substance".

"In the daily political and media battles of the last decade, Treasury policy advice has not been sought, and at times not very effectively given. In those battles, it has been economic and budget facts and figures, not policy advice, that have been demanded," we’re told.

"The habit has developed of not providing policy advice that ministers don’t agree with. Policy advice on contentious issues now is discussed with ministers’ offices in its preparation and if the office indicates that the minister would not be comfortable with the proposed advice an information brief goes instead.

"The office’s (politically attuned) policy advice can then be provided over the top of the Treasury information brief."

The balance of policy influence has shifted to the political offices and external stakeholder groups, with the public service becoming more information providers and implementers of government decisions, he says.

"The government, therefore, is left without a strong source of genuine policy advice. The consequent lack of a consistent economic narrative over the last decade is plain for all to see."

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One day the world's population will start falling

For those who worry about global warming and all the other damage humans are doing to our planet, the latest news on world population growth doesn’t seem good. Fortunately, however, the relationship between population and the environment is paradoxical.

The United Nations Population Division updated its projections in June. From its present 7.7 billion, the world’s population is projected to have grown by 2 billion in 2050. It should reach a peak of nearly 11 billion at about the end of this century, before it starts to fall.

Fortunately, projections are just projections, based on a lot of assumptions that may or may not prove to have been accurate. Some prominent demographers believe the UN’s assumptions are too pessimistic.

It’s a mistake to imagine that controlling world population growth is just a matter of access to effective contraception. Economic development also plays a big part.

It’s the activity of humans that generates greenhouse gas emissions and does other damage to the natural environment, using up non-renewable resources, over-using renewable resources such as fish stocks and forests, damaging soil and waterways, and making species extinct.

So the more people, the more damage. Most human activity is economic – people earning their living. And, the way economies are organised at present, the richer people become, the more damage they do.

But here’s the paradox: the richer people become, the fewer children they have.

As my favourite magazine, The Economist, noted in an article, before the Industrial Revolution the typical woman probably had seven or more children. In 1960, the global fertility rate was six children per woman. Today it’s 2.5.

Within that global average, the fertility rate in rich countries is 1.7 children, below the replacement rate for a stable population of 2.1. In middle-income countries it’s 2.4, not far above replacement. In poor countries, however, it’s 4.9 children.

The first economic factor to reduce family size is urbanisation. When you leave the farm, you don’t need as many kids to help with the work. (Both my parents grew up on farms early last century. Dad was one of 14, and Mum one of eight. Their four children, however, had an average fertility rate of 2.5.)

But perhaps the most important factor is the spread of education, particularly of girls. It’s well established that the more years girls spend at school, the fewer babies they have.

“Education reduces fertility by giving women other options,” The Economist says. “It increases their chances of finding paid work. It reduces their economic dependence on their husbands, making it easier to refuse to have more children even if he wants them.

“It equips them with the mental tools and self-confidence to question traditional norms, such as having as many children as possible. It makes it more likely they will understand, and use, contraception.

“It transforms their ambitions for their own children – and thus the number than they choose to have.”

Worldwide, the proportion of girls completing primary school has risen from 76 per cent in 1997 to 90 per cent today. The proportion completing lower secondary school is nearing 80 per cent.

Fertility rates are low in Europe – particularly in Italy (1.33) – and in Japan (1.37). They’re below replacement rate in New Zealand (1.9), Australia (1.83) and the US (1.78).

But the lowest fertility rates are in emerging Asia: Taiwan (1.15) and South Korea (1.11). In the world’s most populous country, China, it’s 1.69, thanks to the one-child policy. After the relaxation of that policy it rose only briefly. Flats are too small and childcare too limited.

By contrast, India’s rate is 2.24, pretty close to replacement. And it varies greatly from 1.8 in wealthy states such as Maharashtra, to more than 3 in poor states such as Uttar Pradesh. Even so, India's population is expected to overtake China’s in 2027.

Because fertility rates cover the whole child-bearing lives of women, it takes a long time for the population of a country that's a bit below the replacement rate to start falling – assuming they don’t top up with immigration, as we do.

Even so, 27 countries’ populations have fallen since 2010 – sometimes with low fertility rates reinforced by high emigration. Over the next 30 years, 55 countries’ populations are projected to fall – almost half of them by more than 10 per cent. China’s may fall by about 31 million, or 2 per cent.

So what’s the problem? In a word: Africa. Its painfully slow rate of economic development leaves it still with fertility rates of five or six, including big countries such as Nigeria, the Congo, Ethiopia and Tanzania.

The best hope that the world’s population will stop growing sooner than the UN projects is that it has underestimated the rise of girls’ education in Africa (and India and Pakistan).

Of course, economic development is two-edged. It may stop population growth, but it makes everyone else richer and thus makes more demands on the environment.

Just as we can limit climate change without reducing energy use by switching to renewable sources, so we could reorganise the economy in ways that ensured continued economic growth didn’t involve continued destruction of the environment. If we had the will.

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Are low interest rates bad? It depends on your perspective

Although media coverage invariably assumes that low interest rates are good news, they’re now so low there’s a backlash, with people pointing to the disadvantages of low rates and getting quite worried.

The fightback is coming at the usual level of complaints from the retired, but also from more sophisticated observers, such as Andrew Ticehurst, of the Nomura banking group, and Dr Stephen Grenville, a former deputy governor of the Reserve Bank.

It’s understandable that the retired and other savers object to the Reserve Bank’s decisions to cut interest rates and are particularly exercised now rates are so close to zero. Doesn’t the Reserve understand we live on our interest income? Of course it does. So why does it persist?

Interest rates are the price borrowers pay lenders (and, ultimately, savers) for the use of their money for a period. Clearly, cutting rates benefits borrowers at the expense of savers. Central banks cut rates to encourage borrowing and spending because they know the expansionary effect on borrowers greatly exceeds the contractionary effect on savers.

They’ll never be dissuaded from this approach. It’s true interest rates are a “blunt instrument”, but they’re pretty much the only instrument central bankers have.

The retired are on much stronger ground when they insist the government continually updates the “deeming rates” it uses to assess the effect of people’s savings on the amount of their part-pension. It’s surprising the grey lobby has taken so long to wake up to this.

The more sophisticated criticism is that, though market economies thrive on risk-taking (and this is one of the mechanisms by which lower rates are expected to stimulate demand), unduly low rates encourage excessive risk-taking.

Businesses are encouraged to become dangerously highly “geared” or “leveraged” (too dependent on borrowed capital rather than share capital) and firms invest in projects that are high-risk or are profitable only if the cost of borrowing is unrealistically low.

In both cases, the seeds of the next bust are being sown. When rates go back up, firms and projects will fall over and there’ll be hell to pay. Very low rates also allow the survival of “zombie” firms – those that have failed and should have died, but are still living – which tie up resources that could be used more efficiently elsewhere.

Running “ultra-loose monetary policy” at a time when demand is weak can do more to cause dangerous bubbles in share, property and other asset markets than to stimulate markets for goods and services.

There’s merit in these arguments – in normal times. But this brings us to the key question of our times: are our present troubles cyclical or structural? Is it just taking frustratingly long for the economy to return to the old normal, healthy rate of growth, or have so many major (but, as yet, not fully understood) changes occurred in the structure of the economy that a “new normal” has arrived, requiring us to get used to a much lower rate of growth, complete with permanently lower inflation and interest rates?

Treasury is sticking firmly to the view that we’ll soon return to the old normal (thus adding weight to the critics’ worries about the bad seeds being sown by protracted low interest rates) and so is the Reserve – except that governor Philip Lowe’s recent exposition of the reasons for persistent low inflation had a bob each way, nominating cyclical (spare capacity) and structural (effects of digitisation and globalisation) factors.

Remember, interest rates come in two parts: the borrower’s compensation to the lender for the loss of their money’s purchasing power while it’s in the borrower’s hands (the expected inflation rate) plus the borrower’s payment to the lender for the use of their money during the loan (the “real” interest rate).

For as long as inflation stays low, nominal interest rates will stay low – without any real loss to savers, even though their susceptibility to “money illusion” (forgetting to allow for inflation) means many don’t realise it.

And here’s something many people haven’t realised: globally, real interest rates have been falling since the 1970s and are still falling. Harvard’s Lawrence Summers finds in a recent paper that real rates have declined by at least 3 percentage points over the past generation.

Put the two parts together and interest rates – both nominal and real – look like staying low for a long time, whether we like it or not. This says many formerly unprofitable investment projects are now profitable, and budget deficits and high public debt are now much less worrying.

The critics imply the Reserve has great freedom to keep the official interest rate high or low. Not really. It can’t defy economic gravity. It’s the Morrison government that could, at the margin, use its budget to reduce the pressure on the Reserve to cut rates further.

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Star pupil Philip Lowe gives tips on why inflation is so low

Reserve Bank governor Philip Lowe started his study of economics at high school in Wagga Wagga and finished it with a PhD from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Much thanks to his teacher, Mrs King, whose teaching style convinced him economics was interesting as well as important.

The great attraction of high school economics is its emphasis on linking theory to current events.

According to a speech he gave last week, when Lowe did the HSC in 1979, the standard exam question was: why does Australia have both high inflation and high unemployment ("stagflation") and what’s the government doing about it?

In those days there was much interest in the "misery index", which adds the inflation rate to the unemployment rate. We got to peaks well above 20 per cent. Today, however, it’s below 7 per cent.

As the Australian Bureau of Statistics advised this week, the consumer price index rose by just 1.6 per cent over the year to June. Which means it’s been below the Reserve’s inflation target of "between 2 and 3 per cent, on average, over the medium term" for almost five years.

So Lowe’s guess is that, these days, exam questions are likely to ask: why is inflation so low at the same time as unemployment is also low – and what’s the government doing about it?

Just to be of help, he told us how he’d answer the question – which is one of interest and importance to all of us, not just youngsters preparing for their finals.

He started by noting that very low inflation has become the norm in most economies. At present, three-quarters of advanced economies have an inflation rate below 2 per cent.

There’s no single answer, he says, but there are three factors that, together, help explain what’s happened.

First, the credibility of the monetary "frameworks" that central banks eventually adopted when, in the second half of the 1970s, they realised inflation was way too high and needed to be got under control.

It wasn’t until the early '90s that our Reserve Bank adopted its present target for inflation which, as Lowe says, helped cement low inflation “norms” in the economy. In econospeak, it provided an anchor for business and unions’ expectations about how much prices were likely to rise over the next year or two.

"Many people understand that if inflation were to pick up too much, the central bank would respond to make sure the pick-up was only temporary,” Lowe says.

It would do so by raising interest rates and so discouraging borrowing and spending, of course. Economists call this the "monetary policy reaction function".

(It’s one of the reasons for the old view among economists that attempts to use the budget to stimulate demand by cutting taxes or increasing government spending wouldn’t achieve much. The central bank, fearing the stimulus would push up inflation, would react by raising interest rates and so stymie it. In the new world of continuing weak demand and too-low inflation, however, central banks are most unlikely to react to budgetary stimulus in such a way, meaning the new view is that budgetary stimulus is very effective.)

Has inflation targeting worked? Well, annual inflation has averaged 2.4 per cent since the target was adopted, so it certainly seems to have.

The second part of Lowe’s explanation for very low inflation is that spare capacity to produce goods and services (including spare workers who are unemployed or under-employed) in many advanced economies means there’s little upward pressure on prices.

That certainly seems the case in Australia. Our unemployment rate could go a lot lower than its present 5.2 per cent without causing wages to take off – especially with our under-employment rate of 8.3 per cent.

Our labour market seems to be more flexible – and less inflation-prone - than it used to be.

The third part of his explanation is that changes in the structure of the economy caused by technology and globalisation seem to be keeping prices low.

For one thing, digitisation and globalisation seem to be lowering the cost of producing many goods. The entry of China and other emerging economies into the global trading system has added hundreds of millions of factory workers to the global market.

The prices of manufactured goods in the advanced economies have barely increased over the past couple of decades.

For another thing, globalisation and advances in technology are making markets more contestable and increasing competition. This is extending beyond manufacturing to almost every corner of the economy, including the services sector.

Historically, most services couldn’t be traded across national borders. But globalisation – driven mainly by advances in information and communication technology – means many services can now be delivered by somebody in another country.

Examples include preparation of architectural drawings, document design and publishing, and customer service roles (a nice name for call centres). As well, many tasks such as accounting and payroll have been automated.

The internet and its digital “platforms” have revolutionised services such as retail, media and entertainment, and transformed how we communicate, and search for information and compare prices.

"These changes are having a material effect on pricing, with services price inflation lower than it once was. Many firms know that if they don’t keep their prices down, another firm somewhere in the world might undercut them," Lowe says.

"And many workers are concerned that if the cost of employing them is too high, relative to their productivity [an important qualification], their employer might look overseas or consider automation."

More broadly, using the internet for better “price discovery” keeps the competitive pressure on firms.

The end result is a pervasive feeling of more competition. And more competition normally means lower prices.

What’s the government doing about low inflation and the deficient demand that is part of its cause?

Well, if you mean the elected government, the short answer is: not nearly enough. Especially when you remember how little scope the Reserve Bank has left to cut interest rates.

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Higher super: good for fund managers, not for workers

Do you have trouble understanding superannuation? Some government backbenchers are urging Scott Morrison to abandon or at least postpone the plan to phase-up the compulsory employer contribution from 9.5 per cent to 12 per cent of salary over the four years to July 2025. Good idea, or another attempt to cheat the worker?

One new backbencher has proposed that, since many low income-earners have a lot of demands on their budgets, super should be voluntary for everyone earning less than $50,000 a year. Whaddaya reckon?

You could be forgiven for being unsure. Super is complicated. You have to understand how it’s taxed and how it interacts with the age pension and its income and assets tests. I sometimes think that, with super, nothing is as it appears.

Take the notion of “employer contributions”. The government is forcing your boss to contribute to your retirement savings on top of the wage you’re paid. You beaut. Bring it on. The more the better.

Trouble is, economists believe that, in the end, it’s not the boss who pays, it’s the worker. How could that happen? Easy. Every time bosses are compelled to increase the rate of their contribution to their workers’ super, they compensate by granting ordinary pay rises that are smaller than they would have been.

After almost 30 years of playing the compulsory super game, that’s what the figures say has happened.

And ask yourself this: if employers really do foot the bill for their contributions to their employees’ super – if they come out of profits rather than wages – why isn’t business complaining loud and long about the plan to greatly increase those contributions?

Once you accept that employees end up paying for “employer” contributions, the question of whether they should be increased can be restated as: would you be happy for your pay to rise by about 2.5 per cent less than it would have over the four years to July 2025? And, ignoring other developments, stay that much lower every year for the rest of your working life?

The rational answer to that question is yes - provided the eventual improvement in my retirement income is sufficient to compensate me for the loss of the other things I could have done with all that money.

Before we consider answering that, here’s another thing that may not be as it appears. Compulsory super is a creation of Labor (and, if you hadn’t noticed, Paul Keating) and the unions. This was done in the belief that future generations would want more than the pension to live comfortably in retirement. Most people would live on a combination of age pension and super.

The Liberals opposed it from the start, saying they didn’t agree with compelling people to save. The Howard government scuttled Keating’s plan to increase compulsory contributions beyond the original 9 per cent.

Then, in 2013, the new Abbott government intervened to delay Kevin Rudd’s plan to get contributions up to 12 per cent by July 2019 – that is, now.

We’re asked to believe that the backbenchers are revolting because Morrison is refusing to abandon or further delay the already-legislated phase-up to 12 per cent by July 2025. But why would he reverse the Libs’ long-held opposition to compulsory super (which, by the way, delivers billions of dollars into “industry” super funds, in which half the trustees are union officials)?

I don’t believe it. Treasurer Josh Frydenberg is preparing to announce a wide-ranging inquiry into the interaction of super, the age pension and taxation. Since the next increase won’t happen until mid-2021, I think Morrison would simply prefer to announce a further curtailment of Labor’s plans in the context of the government’s response to that inquiry.

But why might an independent inquiry recommend against any further increase in the rate of compulsory contributions? Because, despite all the urging from the finance sector-types who make their high-paid living by taking a small annual bite out of every dollar the government forces us to leave in their care, in an unholy alliance with the union movement, the case for higher contributions is weak.

Recent detailed modelling by Brendan Coates, of the Grattan Institute – a non-aligned think tank that’s done much research into super – has found that the planned increase would leave many workers poorer over their entire lifetimes.

They would sacrifice a significantly increased share of their lifetime wages in exchange for little or no increase in their retirement income. Overall, and measured in today’s dollars, the typical worker would lose a cumulative total of about $30,000 over their lifetime, Coates estimates.

He finds that the lowest-paid 20 per cent of employees would be better off, the middle 50 per cent would be worse off, and the highest-paid 30 per cent would be better off.

Why? Partly because super tax breaks are still a lot greater for high income-earners, but mainly because, for workers in the middle, the operation of the age pension assets test would leave them sacrificing immediate income to increase their super payout, only to have their pension chopped back in consequence.

These results make me doubt the wisdom of making super voluntary for low income-earners. Many people are on low incomes not because they’re poor, but because their career is just getting started. It would work against the push for women to end their careers with more super than they do at present.

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Memo PM: governing goes better with a sharp public service

For good or ill, much of the attitudes and strategies of the modern Liberal Party have been shaped by its greatest leader since Menzies, newly turned octogenarian John Howard.

After Bob Hawke defeated Malcolm Fraser as prime minister in 1983, Howard, his treasurer, reflected unhappily on how little the Fraser ministers had achieved during their seven years in office. Why was that? Because, Howard concluded, the public servants had kept talking them out of doing what they’d intended to do.

So when Howard became prime minister in 1996, he resolved not to let that happen to his government. He began with a “night of the long knives” in which he sacked the heads of six government departments.

When Tony Abbott took over from Labor in 2013, he repeated the process with a “night of the short knives” in which the heads of four departments got chopped.

Nothing could be better calculated to send a message to top public servants that survival in their jobs rests on the continuing approval of the prime minister and his ministers, and that any frank and fearless advice they offer will be at their own risk.

We can be reasonably confident that, by now, it would be rare for ministers to be given unwelcome advice.

Which doesn’t sound smart to me. No leader has all the answers. The manager who surrounds themselves with Yes-persons is more likely to fall in a hole than achieve great things.

Last week Scott Morrison did what’s become the accepted practice of prime ministers from both sides and moved to install his personal choice to head his department and, in effect, be boss of the other department heads.

He shifted a former chief-of-staff of his private office, Phil Gaetjens, from Treasury to Prime Minister and Cabinet. Gaetjens’ replacement at Treasury is Dr Steven Kennedy, a Treasury-trained and highly experienced macro-economist, with much experience in other areas. His appointment suggests a step back from the politicisation of Treasury.

Asked about public servants’ role in giving advice, Morrison said “it is the job of the public service to advise you of the challenges that may present to a government in implementing its agenda. That is the advisory role of the public service. But the government sets policy. The government is the one that goes to the people and sets out an agenda, as we have”.

Get it? He sees the bureaucrats’ role as to implement the government’s policy. If they see any problems during that implementation, they are free to draw them to their masters’ attention. But, by implication, they’re not invited to suggest items that need adding to the policy agenda.

It should go without saying that the government sets policy and the public service puts it into practice. Feeling you have to say it suggests a lack of confidence and a fear of having to debate with people who know more about the topic than you do.

But if the Morrison government used the recent election to set out a busy agenda of reforms, I must have missed it. Makes you suspect the agenda for the next three years will just be responding to problems as they arise. Policy without having a policy, perhaps.

But the Abbott-Turnbull-Morrison government’s seeming antipathy towards public servants runs deeper than that. I get the feeling ministers and their staffers regard them as class enemies. People who vote for the other side and so are neither likeable nor to be trusted.

This government took years to reach enterprise agreements with many of them. And though the disaster of Abbott’s first budget killed off almost all the Coalition’s enthusiasm for cutting government spending, it remains strong in two (not particularly big) areas.

It’s willingness to cut spending on public administration is exceeded only by its annual “crackdowns” on benefit payments to the disadvantaged. It knows there’ll be no objection from voters generally, while its heartland supporters will be much gratified see the leaners and loafers get their comeuppance.

The annual cuts to departmental admin budgets – laughably known as the “efficiency dividend” – long ago degenerated into rounds of redundancies that have significantly reduced the size of the public service.

Thus has the public service become less efficient – including taking longer to get things done – and lost much of its corporate memory, plus most of its policy experts.

So it may be just as well the Libs think they don’t need policy advice from public servants. When they do need it, they pay megabucks to the big four accounting and consulting firms. What would they know about public policy? A fair bit now they’ve hired many of the policy experts the government let go.

The great advantage of using private-sector consultants, of course, is that they invariably give the paying customer the advice they think it wants to hear. Good luck, Scott.

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Money is created by the banks, not the government

Just for a change, let’s talk about money. What? Don’t economists always talk about money? Well, yes, in the sense that almost all the things they talk about are valued in monetary terms. But otherwise, no, they rare talk about money as such.

Sometimes I think economics is about finding a host of synonyms for the word "money". Why do you go to work? To make money, of course. But economists prefer to say you earn a wage. Or, if you’re a big shot, a salary.

Businesses sell us things to get money, but economists prefer to say they make sales to generate turnover which, after they’ve paid out a lot of money on wages and rent and many other expenses, leaves them with money called income or profit.

Economists do talk specifically about money, but they define it much more narrowly. Consider this: how would you like to live in a barter economy, where you’re paid with some of whatever it is you’ve helped produce, then have to exchange those things with other people for some of the things they’d help produce?

It would be a hugely cumbersome and time-consuming business. Which is why, a long time ago, someone invented money. We get paid with money, which we use to buy the things we need. Much simpler and easier.

That’s what economists mean by money – a means of paying for things; a "medium of exchange". To an economist, money has little intrinsic value. It’s the things it buys that are valuable.

Economists mainly focus on those valuable things – what’s happening to them and how they work - and ignore the money used to buy and sell them.

It’s true, of course, that economists and the rest of us put dollar values on all those things – prices of the goods and services we buy, the value of the houses and other assets we sell.

Expressing the value of so many and varied things in dollars makes it easier to compare them, add and subtract them. So another part of economists’ definition of money is that it’s used as a "unit of account".

(This, however, exposes a big limitation of economics. There are a lot of important things in life and the economy whose value or cost can’t be reduced to a dollar figure. Things like love, trust, honesty, anxiety and stress. Economists are always forgetting to take account of factors than can’t be measured in dollars.)

Of course, not all the money than comes our way is spent immediately. Some of it we save to spend later – sometimes much later. Which means the third requirement money must fulfil is to be a good "store of value".

That’s why we need to keep the rate of inflation low and steady (and why Bitcoin doesn’t rate as money).

But now we’re clear on what money is, the big question is: where does it come from? How is it created?

Well, we know that coins and banknotes come from the government. Notes are printed in Melbourne by the Reserve Bank; coins are made in Canberra by the Royal Australian Mint. The Reserve sells to the banks all the notes and coins they want.

But notes and coins account for less than 4 per cent of all the money in circulation. Most of us hold most of our money on deposit with the banks.

In principle, the Australian dollar is a creation of the Australian government. Like almost every currency these days, it’s a "fiat" currency – meaning it has no intrinsic value: notes are just pieces of paper, and the metal used to make a $2 coin is worth a small fraction of $2. An Australian $50 note is worth $A50 purely because the government says it is.

This also means the government could print – or credit to people’s bank accounts – as many dollars as it wanted to (though not without ramifications).

But here’s the trick: although that is true in principle, in practice money is created by the banks. As Emma Doherty, Ben Jackman and Emily Perry explained in the Reserve Bank’s Bulletin last year, money is created when banks make loans.

The bank either puts the loan money directly into its customer’s deposit account, or pays it into the account of the business selling whatever it is its customer needed the loan to buy. Either way, since money is notes and coins ("currency") plus bank deposits, the amount of money in circulation has just increased.

Amazing, eh? But before you run away with the idea that a bank could create as much money as it wanted to, there are two further points to understand.

First, there are obvious limits on how much money the banks can create. For a start, they’re not giving it way, they’re lending it. They must have a customer wanting to borrow at the interest rate charged, and likely to be able to repay it.

And the banks also need to be in a position to make the loan. They must keep a sufficient share of their assets in liquid form (cash) to be able to meet any withdrawals the new borrower makes from their account, as well as to meet any withdrawals by existing borrowers.

This pretty much means they need to attract more cash deposits to support the loan they just made. The banks’ loans need to be backed up by enough capital, supplied by shareholders, in case borrowers can’t repay their loans or other bank assets fall in value.

All this is necessary to ensure the banks don’t collapse. So these factors imply that creating money comes at a cost to the banks, which limits the extent to which they can increase their loans.

Second, an individual bank can’t create money in this way, only the banking system as a whole can. That’s because the bank that initiates the loan can’t be sure that all the loan money spent comes back to it as deposits. Some of it will, but most may go to other banks.

Next week it’s back to talking about the things we do with money.

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Want the jobless to find jobs? Then increase the dole

It’s so familiar a part of political economy you could call it Galbraith’s Law, after John Kenneth Galbraith, the literary Canadian-American economist who put it into words. As the late senator John Button paraphrased it: the rich need more money as an incentive and the poor need less money as an incentive.

Consider the first actions of the re-elected Scott Morrison and his government. First, pushing through its three-stage tax plan, which in time will cut the income tax of those on the minimum wage by 1.5¢ in every dollar, those full-time workers on the median wage by 2.4¢ in every dollar, and those on $200,000 a year by 5.8¢ in the dollar.

Second, steadfastly resisting the ever-mounting calls for a rise in the single dole of $278 a week (less than 38 per cent of the minimum wage), which hasn’t been increased beyond inflation since 1997, making it now about $180 a week less than the pension.

It’s true that, until very recently, Labor was just as opposed to raising the dole as the Coalition has long been. Why? Because both sides know that doing so would displease many of their supporters.

As everyone knows, the dole is paid to lazy youngsters, who much prefer surfing to looking for a job – which, if only they’d get off their arses, they’d soon find. (Never mind that the number of unemployed vastly exceeds the number of job vacancies.)

Even so, the number of those calling for an increase is mounting rapidly. Apart from the welfare groups, it has long included the Business Council, which has now been joined by various economists – including those working for two of the big four accounting firms, plus someone called Dr Philip Lowe – and backbenchers from both sides, including Barnaby Joyce, who says the dole isn’t high enough for country people to afford the travel to job interviews.

Even John Howard, the man who initiated the freeze in real terms, now says it’s time for it to end.

Morrison, however, is unmoved. He argues the dole is better than it's been painted. It’s increased twice a year in line with inflation, and 99 per cent of recipients get other payments.

True. But what the 99 per cent get is the “energy supplement”, which is worth 63¢ a day and doesn’t change the claim that the dole amounts to about $40 a day.

About 40 per cent of singles on the dole get rent assistance – of up to $9.80 a day – provided they’re paying rent of more than $21.40 a day which, rest assured, they are. Much more.

There are 722,000 people on unemployment benefits. Half of them are over 45 – strange to think how sure people are that employers discriminate against older job applicants, but don’t ever imagine them being on the dole.

Similarly, more than a quarter of recipients have an illness or disability, but are on the dole because they’ve been denied the disability support pension. These people, along with more than 100,000 single parents, face challenges and discrimination in finding paid work.

Another argument ministers use is that the dole was only ever intended to be a temporary payment while people find another job and, indeed, two-thirds of people going on to it move off within 12 months.

But get your head around this: accepting that’s true, it’s also true that, at any point in time, two-thirds of people on the optimistically named Newstart allowance have been on it for a year or more. These are the long-term unemployed who, presumably, include many of those with particular challenges.

I agree with Morrison that “the best form of welfare is a job”. It’s true, too, that in recent years many additional, full-time jobs have been created. But it’s equally true that many of those jobs have gone to immigrants and other new entrants to the labour force, meaning the rate of unemployment hasn’t fallen below 5 per cent. That’s acceptable?

The truth is that, even in the city, the meanness of the dole makes it hard for people to afford the transport and other costs needed to search for jobs. The notion that poor people will seek work only under the lash of poverty is heartless nonsense.

Other facts are that the economy has slowed sharply since the middle of last year, employment is growing more slowly and unemployment is now rising.

This is why Reserve Bank governor Lowe has twice cut the official interest rate and is begging the government use its budget to do more to stimulate the economy. It partly explains his support for an increase in the dole – an extra $75 a week is the popular proposal – which, as a stimulus measure, has the great virtue of being likely to be spent fully and quickly by its impoverished recipients.

So why the refusal? For the reasons we’ve discussed but also because, having given up tax revenue of $300 billion over 10 years, Treasurer Josh Frydenberg now insists he can’t afford a dole increase costing a whopping $39 billion over 10 years. Too much threat to his promised return to budget surplus.

Strange logic. Should the economy’s slowdown not be reversed, unemployment – and the budgetary cost of the dole – will go a lot higher, and hopes of budget surpluses will evaporate, replaced by angry people accusing the government of economic incompetence.

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Despite the photo-op, RBA knows we need fiscal stimulus

Never fear, Reserve Bank governor Dr Philip Lowe may have stumbled on the optics of agreeing to a photo-op with Treasurer Josh Frydenberg the other week, but the Reserve’s independence remains intact and our weak economy remains in need of budgetary stimulus.

Politicians have damaged our trust so badly that they like having respected econocrats appearing beside them to bolster their credibility. But central bank governors who wish to preserve the authority of their office don’t oblige, just as Lowe’s predecessor, Glenn Stevens, declined to be used as a prop by Kevin Rudd.

That’s the trouble, of course. There’s nothing wrong with treasurers and governors having private meetings – the more the better – but once the media are invited in the pollies will always be playing their own game, and it’s always one that puts their political standing ahead of the economy’s interests.

I suspect the message Frydenberg wanted to convey to viewers was that the economy was going fine and he had no intention of allowing fiscal stimulus to jeopardise the budget’s predicted and glorious return to surplus, which would make his name as a treasurer.

He and his Treasury officers had spent two hours explaining this to Lowe, and Lowe had accepted their arguments.

I very much doubt that’s what really happened. Nor do I except the media interpretation that, pressured by Frydenberg, Lowe went on to repudiate all he’d been saying about the economy’s weakness and why he’d needed to cut the official interest rate two months in a row.

Why then did Lowe say “I agree 100 per cent with you [Frydenberg] that the Australian economy is growing and the fundamentals are strong”?

Well, for a start, no one denies that the economy is still growing. And “the fundamentals” is such a vague concept it could be taken to mean lots of things. Presumably, Lowe doesn’t include wages among the fundamentals, because annual growth of 2.3 per cent is not what I’d call strong.

I think all he was trying to say was that he was confident we aren’t heading into recession.

But there’s a deeper point to understand: central bankers see it as an important part of their job to exude calm and confidence. No matter how worried they are, they take pride in never showing it.

They’re like a duck: moving serenely above the water, paddling furiously underneath. Lowe has spoken several times recently about the need to preserve stability and confidence.

So never hold your breath waiting for a Reserve governor, Treasury secretary or, let’s hope, treasurer  to be the first to warn that recession is possible. They’ll be the last to admit it.

Like Paul Keating on the day he tried to conceal his failure by bulldusting about “the recession we had to have”, they don’t use the R word until the figures make it impossible to deny.

And that is just as it should be. Why? Because – particularly when it’s negative, and when sentiment is wavering – what they say has too much influence over what the rest of us think and do. Too much risk of their prophesies becoming self-fulfilling.

That’s why, as a mere media commentator, it’s my job to be brutally frank, and theirs to be circumspect.

And that’s why it’s wrong to claim Lowe has suddenly changed his tune about the economy’s prospects. Those who think otherwise are like the people in the famous psych experiment who were so busy counting points in a basketball match they didn’t notice a gorilla run across the court.

In his announcement of the second rate cut – as in almost all his recent public utterances – Lowe insisted that “the central scenario for the Australian economy remains reasonable, with growth around trend expected”.

The significant change has been the Reserve’s revised judgement that the “non-accelerating-inflation rate of unemployment” has fallen from about 5 per cent to 4.5 per cent or lower. Lowe has used this as his justification for cutting interest rates.

“Today’s decision to lower the cash rate will help make further inroads into the spare capacity in the economy” and “will assist with faster progress in reducing unemployment . . .”, he said in the announcement.

It’s a lovely thought, but I fear the immediate challenge is not to get unemployment lower, but to stop it continuing to rise. And the latter risk fits better with Lowe’s repeated calls for more help from the budget – for it to be pointing in the same direction as monetary policy (interest rates), not the opposite direction, as at present.

Frydenberg’s photo-op made it clear his answer is no. Perhaps at their next two-hour meeting Lowe should explain to him how the budget’s “automatic stabilisers” work, and may well wash away his promised budget surplus.

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Change is inevitable. If we embrace it we win; resist it we lose

Will Australia’s future over the next 40 years be bright or pretty ordinary? It could go either way, depending on how we respond to the challenges facing us. So what do we have to do to rise to the occasion?

The challenges, choices and likely consequence we face are spelt out in the report, Australian National Outlook 2019, produced by the CSIRO in consultation with 50 leaders from companies, universities and non-profits. The group was chaired by Dr Ken Henry, former Treasury secretary, and David Thodey, former boss of Telstra.

The report identifies six main challenges we face between now and 2060. First is the rise of Asia and the way it is shifting the geopolitical and economic landscape.

Asia’s middle class is growing rapidly, but unless we improve our ability to compete and also diversify our exports, we risk missing out on this opportunity and will be vulnerable to external shocks.

Next is the challenge of technological change, such as artificial intelligence, automation and biotechnology, which is transforming existing industries and changing the skills required for high-quality jobs.

Third challenge is climate change, the environment and loss of biodiversity. These pose a significant economic, environmental and social threat to the world and to us. We could be on a path to 4 degrees global warming by the end of the century unless significant action is taken.

Then there’s the demographic challenge: at current growth rates Australia’s population may approach 41 million by 2060, with Sydney and Melbourne housing 8 to 9 million people each. At the same time, ageing means the population’s rate of participation in the workforce could drop from 66 per cent to 60 per cent. (I don’t accept that such a rate of population growth is either inevitable or desirable.)

The fifth challenge is that trust in governments, businesses, other organisations and the media has declined. Without a lot of trust, it will be much harder to agree on the often-tough measures needed to respond to all these challenges.

Finally, measures of social cohesion have fallen in the past decade, with many Australians feeling left behind. Inequality, financial stress, slow wage growth and poor housing affordability may be contributing to this.

The report develops two plausible but opposite scenarios of how things may develop over the next 40 years. The “slow decline” scenario is the muddle-through future, in which we resist change for as long as we can. In the “outlook vision” scenario we agree to bite the bullet, resist the lobbying of declining industries, make the needed policy changes and exploit the benefits of new technology and trading opportunities.

Under the low-road scenario, real gross domestic product grows at an average rate of 2.1 per cent a year, whereas under the high-road scenario it grows by 2.8 per cent. This would cause average real growth per person to be 39 per cent higher than under the low-road.

Real wages would be 90 per cent higher in 2060 than today, compared with 40 per cent higher under the low-road.

The low-road approach would allow cities to continue to sprawl, whereas the high-road would involve increasing the density of cities by about 75 per cent compared with today. This would keep our cities highly liveable.

Urban congestion could be reduced by higher density. Vehicle kilometres per person would fall by less than 25 per cent under the low-road, compared with up to 45 per cent under the high-road.

Net carbon emissions would fall by only 11 per cent under the low-road, with total energy use increasing by 61 per cent on 2016 levels, and only a modest improvement in energy productivity (efficiency).

By contrast, net zero emissions would be reached by 2050 under the high-road, with a doubling of energy productivity per unit of GDP and total energy use increasing by less than 45 per cent.

Whereas returns to landowners would increase by about $18 billion a year under the low-road, they’d increase by up to $84 billion a year under the high-road.

There’d be minimal environmental planting in 2060 under the low-road, but between 11 to 20 million hectares under the high-road, accounting for up to a quarter of intensive agricultural land. This “carbon forestry” explains why net zero emissions could be achieved without significant effect on economic growth.

More biodiverse plantings and better land management could help restore our ecosystems. And low-emission, low-cost sources of energy could even become a source of comparative advantage for us, with exports of hydrogen and high-voltage direct-current power.

The report says we need to achieve five key shifts to get us on to the high road. First, Industry. We need to allow a change in the structure of our industry, by increasing the adoption of new technology and so increasing productivity. We need to invest in the skills of our workers to keep their labour globally competitive and ready for the technology-enabled jobs of the future.

Second, urban sprawl. We need to plan for higher-density, multicentred and well-connected capital cities to reduce sprawl and congestion. We need to reform land-use zoning, so diverse high-quality housing options bring people closer to jobs, services and amenities. We must invest in transport infrastructure, including mass-transit, autonomous vehicles and "active transit", such as walking and cycling.

Third, energy. We must manage the shift to renewable energy, which will be driven by declining technology costs for generation, storage and grid support. We need to improve energy productivity using new technology to reduce the waste of power by households and industry.

Fourth, land. We need to use digital and genomic technology to improve food technology and to participate in new agricultural environmental markets to capitalise on our unique opportunities in global carbon markets. This will help to maintain, restore and invest in biodiversity and ecosystem health.

Finally, culture. We need to rebuild trust, encourage a healthy culture of risk-taking and deal with the social and environmental costs of reform policies.

Trouble is, a public that’s willing to re-elect the reactionary Morrison government seems more likely to settle for the low-road than strive for the best we could be.

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News from the shopping trolley: retailers are doing it tough

If I told you that a big reason we're feeling such cost-of-living pressure is the increasing profits of the big supermarket chains, department stores, discount stores and other retailers, would you believe me? A lot of people would.

But that would just show how little we understand of the strange things happening in the economy in recent years. The economy in which we live and work keeps changing and getting more complicated, the digital revolution is disrupting industry after industry, but we have far too little time to check out what's happening – especially behind the scenes – so we rely on the casual impressions we gain along the way and on our long-held views about who's ripping it off and who's getting screwed.

Which are often off-beam. Perhaps because in many respects it's a good news story, few people realise the way digital disruption is putting retailing - a pretty big part of the economy, and a big part of household budgets - through the wringer.

If this meant retail staff were being laid off in their thousands we'd have heard about it. If it meant big retail chains were jacking up their prices, we'd have been told.

Instead, increased competition between retailers is making it much harder than usual for them to put up their prices, and causing some prices to fall.

It's all explained by Matthew Carter in an article in last week's Reserve Bank Bulletin, using data from the Australian Bureau of Statistics and the Reserve's regular contact with many medium and large retailers.

The article covers about a third of the "basket" of goods and services bought by Australian households, the changing prices of which are measured by the consumer price index. That is, not just food and other things you buy in supermarkets, but clothing and footwear, furniture, household items and much else, though not motor vehicles and fuel. Nor other classes of consumer spending not done through retailers, such as the costs of housing, healthcare and education.

Since the early 2000s, the increased competition in retailing has come first from online shopping – competition not just between local and overseas retailers, but between those local retailers who use the internet and those who don't, as well as between those who do.

The other main source of increased competition in retailing is the arrival of big new international companies, such as Aldi, Costco and, of course, Amazon, which is both online and a big new arrival from overseas. (The article doesn't mention two other disruptive developments: the advent of "category killers" such as Officeworks and Bunnings, and the decline of the department store.)

The basic model of markets used by economists assumes that businesses compete with each other mainly on price. In real-world Australia, however, the two, three or at most four big companies that dominate most markets much prefer to compete via product differentiation, marketing and advertising, and avoid price competition.

That's what online shopping has changed. And it's not just that the internet has made it infinitely easier for shoppers to compare prices. It's also that, on the net, it's much easier to compare prices than to compare colours or quality.

And when a big foreign player decides to try to break into an established market, price competition is the main way it tries to gain market share.

The result is that retailing has become more price conscious. And retailers are telling the Reserve Bank that their customers have become more price sensitive – which isn't surprising considering how slowly their wages are growing.

Nor does it matter much that, so far, not many people do their grocery shopping online, or that Aldi is still much smaller than Woolies or Coles. The others have protected themselves from losing market share by matching their rivals' lower prices.

Another effect of digitisation is to make it a lot easier for retailers to change their prices (as well as to find out what their rivals are charging). And the greater price consciousness of their customers means that 60 per cent of retailers now review their prices weekly or even daily.

This means many retailers more frequently discount their prices - put them "on special" - and make the discounts deeper.

The Reserve Bank's survey of retailers shows the main reasons they lower prices is because their competitors have cut their prices or because demand has weakened.

Carter has analysed the Bureau of Statistics' industry statistics and found that the net profit margins of both food and non-food retailers had fallen by about 1.75 percentage points (that's 1.75¢ in every dollar of sales) since 2011-12.

It may not sound much, but it is – especially in supermarkets, which are low-margin, high turnover businesses. Further analysis confirms that this decline comes from reduced ability to mark-up wholesale prices, rather than higher operating costs.

However, retailers are fighting back, trying to improve their mark-ups by offering more own-brand products (cuts out the wholesaler) and more premium brands (higher mark-up), while some non-food retailers are joining the supermarkets in moving from the traditional "high-low" pricing strategy ("specials" and frequent "sales") to an "everyday low price" strategy. By selling more, they gain more power to bargain with wholesalers.

Of all the things that are making our lives tough, higher retail prices ain't one of them.

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Poor Josh Frydenberg: on the wrong tram, heading for trouble

It’s not my policy to feel sorry for any politician – they’re all hugely ambitious volunteers – but I do feel sympathy for Treasurer Josh Frydenberg. He’s not the first treasurer to be strong on party dogma but light on economic understanding, but he’s among the first to be heading into stormy weather light on expert advice from a confident and competent Treasury.

There he was, thinking his first budget would be his last, primping up a pre-election budget that claimed to have fixed the economy and delivered on deficit and debt when that was all in the future and built on nothing more than years of wildly optimistic forecasts, combined with a massive tax bribe whose cost will keep multiplying for seven years.

Do you think that while cooking up the happy forecasts needed to justify his claims of Mission Accomplished and make his tax cuts seem affordable, Treasury warned him of the risks he was running, making himself and his government hostages to fortune?

I doubt it. They wouldn’t have been game to. The Coalition’s politicisation of Treasury, intended to kill its corporate sense of mission and replace it with people who’d proved their right-thinking and party loyalty as ministerial staffers, sent the message that the government wanted people who spoke only when spoken to and kept any contrary opinions to themselves.

In the process, however, most of the people with a deep understanding of macro-economic management have drifted away. People who understood the mysteries of the business cycle, with experience of recessions - and how excruciatingly painful they are for the government of the day.

These are people who know how much worse you make it for yourself – and for the economy voters depend on – by refusing to face the mess you’ve got yourself into, and who know how to help you change trams with as little loss of face as possible.

People game to tell you to stop digging. People who know that the longer you take to accept that the game has changed, the harder it will be to get the economy back on track – and, incidentally, to avoid getting the blame for completely stuffing it up.

People who’ll tell you to blame your about-face on changes coming from the rest of the world, but not to believe your own bulldust. People who’ll tell you to forget about party political doctrine – and the crowing of your opponents - and be completely pragmatic in doing whatever needs to be done to get you and the economy out of the poo.

Here’s what Frydenberg’s experts should be telling him, but probably aren’t – unless he speaks to Reserve Bank governor Dr Philip Lowe a lot more regularly than I imagine he does.

First, worrying about deficit and debt is something national governments can afford to do only when they’ve got an economy that’s growing strongly. The three successive quarters of pathetically weak growth we’ve experienced – complete with rising unemployment and underemployment - may prove to be just a blip, as the budget’s forecasts assume they will, but it’s much easier to believe they show the economy is fast running out of puff.

Recession is neither imminent nor inevitable in the next year or three, but with the economy in such a weakened state it is vulnerable to any adverse shock that happens along – whether of domestic or international in origin.

In such circumstances, it would be economically damaging and fiscally counterproductive (not to mention politically disastrous) to press on with fiscal consolidation rather give top priority to boosting economic activity and getting the economy back into strong-growth mode.

The problem is, the economy seems to be running out of puff because it’s caught in a vicious circle: private consumption and business investment can’t grow strongly because there’s no growth in real wages, but real wages will stay weak until stronger growth in consumption and investment gets them moving.

Policy has to break this cycle. But, as Lowe now warns in every speech he gives, monetary policy (lower interest rates) isn’t still powerful enough to break it unaided. Rates are too close to zero, households are too heavily indebted, and it’s already clear that the cost of borrowing can't be the reason business investment is a lot weaker than it should be.

That leaves the budget as the only other instrument available. The first stage of the tax cuts will help, but won’t be nearly enough. “Structural reform” is always a nice idea, but fixing a problem of deficient demand from the supply side would take far too long to be of practical help.

Over to you, Josh. If you’ve got the greatness in you, this could be your finest hour.

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How to multiply the bang from your budget buck

Years ago, I came to a strong conclusion: the politician who could resist the temptation to use the budget to prop up the economy when it’s falling in a heap and making voters hugely dissatisfied has yet to be born.

So let me make a fearless prediction: whatever they’re saying now, sooner or later Treasurer Josh Frydenberg and his boss Scott Morrison will use “fiscal policy” (aka the budget) to help counter the sharp slowdown in the economy that, if we’re not careful or our luck doesn’t hold, could lead to something much worse.

How can I be so sure? Because I’ve seen it happen so many times before. As I wrote in this column last week, since the late 1970s it’s been the international conventional wisdom among governments and their advisers that “monetary policy” (interest rates) should be the chief instrument used to stabilise the economy as it moves through the ups and downs of the business cycle, with fiscal policy focused instead on achieving “fiscal sustainability” – making sure the public debt doesn’t get too high.

Take Malcolm Fraser, for instance. He spent almost all his time as prime minister trying to eliminate the big budget deficit he inherited from the Whitlam government.

Until, that is, his advisers noticed indications of what became the recession of the early 1980s. In his last budget, he cut taxes and boosted government spending.

The Hawke government was totally committed to leaving it all to monetary policy, and stuck to that even when Treasurer John Kerin brought down the 1991 budget during the depths of the recession we didn’t have to have in the early 1990s.

Except that, by this time, Paul Keating was on the backbench, telling everyone who’d listen that you’d have to be crazy not to be using the budget to stimulate the economy.

In February 1992, soon after he’d deposed Bob Hawke, Keating unveiled his own big One Nation stimulus package – which by then was far too late.

It was Dr Ken Henry’s realisation at the time that politicians will always do something, even if they should have done it much sooner that, after the global financial crisis in 2008, saw him urging Kevin Rudd to “go early, go hard, go households”.

Combined with a cut in interest rates far bigger than would be possible today, that fiscal stimulus was so effective in keeping us out of the Great Recession that, today, the punters have forgotten there was ever any threat and the Coalition has convinced itself it was never needed in the first place.

Now, as we also saw last week, with interest rates so close to zero, fiscal policy is back in fashion internationally – though I’m not sure the carrier pigeon has yet made it as far as Canberra. So we’ve got time for a quick refresher on how fiscal stimulus works while we wait for the penny to drop in the Bush Capital.

There is a “circular flow of income” around the economy, caused by the simple truth that one person’s spending is another person’s income. This means that $1 spent by the government (or anyone else, for that matter) can flow around the economy several times.

This is what economists call the “multiplier” effect. Just how big the multiplier is for any spending will depend on the “leakages” from the flow that happen when someone decides to save some of their income rather than spend it all, or when they spend some of their income on imported goods or services (including overseas holidays).

(There are also “injections” to the flow from investment – someone uses or borrows savings to spend on a new house or office or equipment – and from exports of goods or services to foreigners.)

This means that the degree of stimulus the economy receives will differ according to the choices the government makes about the form its stimulus will take.

In a briefing note prepared by Dr Peter Davidson for the Australian Council of Social Service, he quotes research on the size of multipliers calculated by the Congressional Budget Office for the various measures contained in President Obama’s stimulus package in 2009, after the financial crisis.

Where the government spent directly on the purchase of goods and services, $1 of spending increased US gross domestic product by between 50¢ and $2.50. Where the spending was money given to state governments for the construction of infrastructure, the multiplier ranged between 0.45 and 2.2.

For spending on social security payments, the multiplier ranged between 0.45 and 2.1. For one-off payments to retirees, it was between 0.2 and 1. For grants to first-home buyers, between 0.2 and 0.7.

Turning from government spending to tax cuts, the budget office found than tax cuts for low to middle income-earners yielded a multiplier of between 0.3 and 1.5. For tax cuts for high income-earners, it was between 0.05 and 0.6. For additional company tax deductions, it was 0.4.

These big differences aren’t hard to explain. Multipliers are highest for direct government purchases or construction because there’d be no initial leakage into saving and little into imports.

The multipliers for tax cuts are lower because of initial leakage into saving and imports – not so much for low and middle income-earners, but hugely so for high income-earners.

Davidson’s conclusion is that a fiscal stimulus package would give the biggest bang per buck if it focused on direct government spending (particularly on timely infrastructure projects) and transfer payments to social security recipients.

Unsurprisingly, he slips in a plug for a $75 a week increase in dole payments to single people and single parents which, because it went to the poorest households in the country, would be spent down to the last penny and on essentials such as food and rent, not imports. It would also go to the poorest regions in the country.

Sounds good to me – and also to Reserve Bank governor Dr Philip Lowe.

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Kiwis go one up and bring happiness to the budget

Like the past, New Zealand is a foreign country. They do things differently there. While we’ve just had a budget promising what seems like the world’s biggest tax cut, the Kiwis have just had what may be the world’s first “wellbeing budget”. Bit of a contrast.

I’ve long believed that all government politicians everywhere, when they’re not simply delivering for their backers, are trying to make voters happy and thus get themselves re-elected. They just differ in how they go about it.

Like governments everywhere, our governments of both colours have seen delivering economic growth - and the jobs and higher material living standards it’s expected to bring - as the chief thing we want of them to make us happier.

To this end they’ve adopted as their chief indicator of success the rate of growth in GDP – gross domestic product – which measures the nation’s production of goods and services during a period.
They’ve largely assumed that the extra income produced by this growth is distributed fairly between us - though, in recent decades, the share going to those near the top has grown a lot faster than the shares of everyone else.

This, presumably, is Australian voters’ “revealed preference”, since we’ve just rejected the party promising to cut various tax breaks going mainly to high income-earners and use the proceeds to increase spending on hospitals, schools and childcare, in favour of the party offering tax cuts worth an immediate saving of $1080 a year to middle income-earners and delayed savings of up to $11,640 a year to those of us on $200,000 and above.

According to the Liberal winners, voters in outer suburbs and the regions turned away from Labor because it would have dashed their “aspirations” to one day be earning two or three times what they’re earning today and so be raking it in from family trusts, negatively geared investments and, above all, refunds of unused franking credits.

But if our aspirations to happiness revolve around more money in general and less tax in particular, our cousins across the dutch aspire to a radically different brand of happiness.

According to their Finance Minister Grant Robertson, in his budget speech, New Zealanders were asking “if we have declared success because we have a relatively high rate of GDP growth, why are the things that we value going backwards - like child wellbeing, a warm, dry home for all, mental health services or rivers and lakes we can swim in?

“The answer to that question was that the things New Zealanders valued were not being sufficiently valued by the government . . . So, today in this first wellbeing budget, we are measuring and focusing on what New Zealanders value – the health of our people and our environment, the strengths of our communities and the prosperity of our nation.

“Success is making New Zealand both a great place to make a living, and a great place to make a life.”

According to the nest of socialists who’ve overrun the NZ Treasury, “there is more to wellbeing than just a healthy economy”. So GDP has been moved from its central place, replaced by Treasury’s “living standards framework”, based on the four sources of capital: natural capital (land, soil, water, plants and animals, minerals and energy resources), human capital (the education, skills and health of the population), social capital (the behavioural norms and institutions that influence the way people live and work together) and human-made capital (factories, offices, equipment, houses and infrastructure).

The living standards framework covers 12 “domains”: income and consumption, and jobs and earnings (which two cover GDP), and “subjective wellbeing” (the $10 term for happiness), plus health, housing, knowledge and skills, the environment, civic engagement and governance, time use, safety and security, cultural identity and social connections.

The wellbeing budget then set out five government priorities: improving mental health, reducing child poverty, addressing inequalities faced by Maori and Pacific island people, thriving in a digital age, and transitioning to a low-emission, sustainable economy.

I’ve often thought this would be the right way for governments to go about increasing “aggregate happiness” – by focusing on reducing the main sources of un-happiness.

To make a start, the budget provides almost $1billion over five years to improve the wellbeing of children, including extra funding for low-income schools, more help for children affected by domestic and sexual violence, and indexing family benefits to wages rather than prices.

The budget’s expensive mental health package includes creation of a new frontline service and funds to help people with mild-to-moderate mental health problems rather than making them wait until their problems worsen. Helping people with addictions is also seen as a health issue.

A “sustainable land-use” package works on the environmental challenges facing agriculture, including excess nutrient flows into iconic lakes and rivers.

Despite all this, the budget sticks to the government’s budget responsibility rules, with surpluses forecast and reduction of public debt. According to Saint Jacinda of Ardern, the wellbeing budget “shows you can be both economically responsible and kind”.

So, those uppity Kiwis think they can walk and chew gum at the same time. Fortunately, we Aussies know not to try.

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Perrottet uses no-probs rhetoric to hide fiscal stimulus

If you’ve ever got a dodgy proposition you want spruiked, see if you can get NSW Treasurer Dominic Perrottet to do it.

His budget offers the most optimistic view of the next four years, leading our state to a new Golden Century (and here was me thinking the Golden Century was where Sussex Street Labor went for a Chinese meal).

Behind all Perrottet’s bravado, however, he has taken his lumps, using his budget to absorb some of the economic pain and keep stimulating the state’s slowing economy.

Which makes him much less in denial than his federal counterpart, Josh Frydenberg, who despite all the bad news we’ve had about the national economy since his budget in April, says he’s pressing on with returning the federal budget to surplus.

The stark truth, from which Perrottet was trying to distract attention, is that the NSW economy is well past its peak. It will be many years before yet another housing boom brings back such good times.

The real question is just how far the economy will deteriorate before it levels out. Perrottet sees it slowing only to annual growth of 2.25 per cent in the financial year just ending and going no slower in the coming year, before bouncing back to its average rate of 2.5 per cent in the following years.

In other words, the present sharp slowdown will prove to be just a blip in our inevitable progress onward and upward. Like Frydenberg, Perrottet is a member of the “back-to-normal-in-no-time” party.

Let’s hope their optimism is right. I doubt we’re that lucky.

Perrottet makes much of the unusually strong growth in employment – and unusually low rate of unemployment – we’ve seen in recent years, with NSW performing better than most other states.

What he doesn’t mention is that, according to his own forecasts, those days are past. Employment may have grown by 3.25 per cent in the financial year just ending, but in the coming year growth will slow to 1.5 per cent, and a fraction less in subsequent years.

On the other hand, while the labour market is weakening, we’re told, wage growth will be strengthening, growing 0.75 percentage points faster than consumer prices in the year just ending and pretty much for the next three or four years.

Why so confident of stronger wage growth? Because, if it doesn’t happen, consumer spending will fall in a heap and so will the economy overall.

It’s when you come to his budget that Perrottet’s actions speak louder than his happy words. Having achieved years of huge budget operating surpluses when the housing market was booming and collections of conveyancing duty were overflowing, he’s now repeatedly revised down his expected surpluses as the extent of the housing bust has become apparent.

Had he been as obsessed with budget surpluses as his federal colleagues, he could have sought to limit the fall by cutting expenses but, even in this post-election budget, cuts in government spending are minor.

And, unlike other state governments, he has resisted the temptation to lower the 2.5 per cent government-imposed cap on public sector wage rises. Rather, the government will press on with its election promises to hire more than 14,000 extra teachers, nurses, health professionals and police over the next four years.

State governments regularly run operating surpluses to help fund their annual investment in infrastructure and other capital works. Perrottet increased infrastructure spending by 47 per cent in the financial year just ending and plans to increase it by a further 25 per cent in the coming year. This will increase the state’s expected overall (not just operating) budget deficit (repeat, deficit) to $14.5 billion in 2019-20, up from $2.8 billion two years earlier.

Perrottet estimates that this investment spending will account for about 0.5 percentage points of the state’s expected economic growth of 2.25 per cent in each of this and the coming financial years.

He may talk the same see-no-evil talk as the federal treasurer, but he seems to know a lot more about how you keep the economy growing in tough times.

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Economic reform is stalled until politicians get back our trust

For those who care more about good policy than party politics, there are unpleasant conclusions to be drawn from the federal election. The obvious one is that it was a case of policy overreach leading to failure.

The less obvious one is that decades of misbehaviour by both sides have alienated so many people from the political process and turned election campaigns into such a cesspit of misrepresentation and dishonesty that, henceforth, neither side will be game to propose or implement controversial reforms.

The election was lost by the party proposing to remove a long list of sectional tax breaks and use the proceeds to increase spending on hospitals, schools and childcare, and won by the party that couldn’t agree on any major policies bar a humongous tax cut.

The risks to good economic policy are obvious. Labor concludes only a mug would try to get themselves elected on the back of good policy; the Coalition concludes you don’t need to be promising to do anything much to get re-elected.

Labor’s conclusion could be used to reinforce the political class’s widely held view that controversial reforms should only be pursued once in government, never from opposition.

Trouble is, the Coalition’s conclusion could be used to argue that, if you can get re-elected without any plans to fix things, why take the risk of proposing anything that could be unpopular?

But I think the threat to good policy runs even deeper. It comes from the electorate’s ever-growing disillusionment and alienation from politics and politicians, and from the two main parties in particular.

The vote for a changing array of third parties continued to rise, while the primary vote for both the majors was down – though more so for Labor than the Coalition. Until now, the rise of One Nation and other populist parties of the right has been a much bigger worry for the Coalition than the Greens have been for Labor.

This time, however, many former Labor voters in outer suburban and regional electorates used One Nation and Clive Palmer’s United Australia Party as a bridge to switch their vote to the Liberals.

In numerical terms, that’s why Labor lost. The point for good-policy advocates to note is that, when so many voters tune out of the political debate, but are still required to vote, they tend to make a last-minute choice based not on a well-informed assessment of how they would be affected by the rival parties’ policies, but on superficialities (“that nice Mr Rudd” or “Shorten looks shifty to me”), scare campaigns and negative advertising.

In other words, in a world where switched-off swinging voters aren’t even guided by informed self-interest, the scare campaign is king. To be blunt, the best liars win.

The Libs were convinced that former prime minister Malcolm Turnbull came so close to losing the 2016 election because of the success of Labor’s Mediscare campaign, conducted at the last minute using social media.

My theory is that, this time, the Libs resolved to turn the tables. This time they made much superior use of social media to run bigger scare campaigns about Labor’s “retirement tax” and “housing tax”. That was mere misrepresentation of Labor’s policies (most of which had strong support from economists and econocrats). The anonymous soul who dreamt up the “death tax” was an outright liar.

I think the biggest single reason so many outer-suburban and regional voters turned away from Labor was its opponents’ success (with much help from Palmer’s blanket advertising) in convincing those voters that Labor planned to increase their taxes.

My guess is that the next federal election will either see each side battling to out-scare the other – an orgy of lies - or, more likely, neither side being game to propose any reform of consequence, for fear of having it grossly misrepresented by the other side.

The more the bad behaviour of both sides – the broken promises, the hypocrisy, the spin, the abuse of statistics, the preference for bad-mouthing your opponents rather than explaining your policies – continues, the more both sides will turn from substance to empty populism.

And guess what? The more they do, the more voters will disengage and become more susceptible to lies and superficialities.

From the noises Anthony Albanese has been making, everything Labor did was wrong, and every triumphalist Liberal explanation of why Labor lost is right. The trouble with Labor selecting leaders from its Left faction is that they’re so anxious to prove they’re not left wing (which, these days, they aren't) they end up standing for nothing.

It would be nice if, having worked a miracle and established his authority over the Coalition’s warring tribes, Scott Morrison now turns his mind to fixing at least some of the many bits of the economy that need fixing. We can but hope.

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