Nick Rowe, applauded by such luminaries as Don Boudreaux and Bob Murphy, argues that, contrary to folks like Paul Krugman and yours truly, government debt is too a burden on our grandchildren, unless you believe in Ricardian Equivalence.

I want to explain what that means, and why it’s wrong.

To make sure we’re all talking about the same thing, I’m going to adopt all of Nick’s assumptions, most critically that all taxes are lump sum. I’ll come back at the end and say a little more about why this obviously false assumption is the right assumption to make.

Now: Suppose the government borrows money to finance a tax cut. That makes us feel richer. We therefore buy and consume more stuff, which leaves less stuff for our grandchildren to consume. (Nick tells a very nice detailed story about how this might play out across generations; I applaud that kind of detail, but it’s not important for this response.) Government debt is therefore a burden to our grandchildren.

Unless! If we — the current generation — foresee all this, and care about our grandchildren, we’ll choose to (in effect) undo what the government has done by saving our tax cuts and giving them as gifts to our grandchildren (presumably as part of their inheritance). This restores every generation’s consumption to the original status quo.

Ricardian Equivalence is the economist’s jargon for the assertion that we will foresee all of this, and will care about our grandchildren, and therefore will give them our tax cuts as gifts. Nick Rowe’s claim is that unless you make the very strong assumption that Ricardian equivalence holds, government debt enriches us at the expense of our grandchildren.

Here’s why that’s wrong: Continue reading ‘You, Your Grandchildren, and the Public Debt’

One of Paul Krugman’s favorite tactics is to assert that all he’s doing is channeling the time-honored lessons of Economics 101 — pre-empting dissent with the implication that any dissenter must be either an ignoramus or a radical. (Journalistic honesty compels me to acknowledge that I might have employed this rhetorical tactic once or twice myself over the years.)

It’s interesting, then, to take note of how very far his central arguments actually deviate from Economics 101. Here’s what he said last week on his blog:

Mulligan and others keep emphasizing examples of individual groups that have managed to gain jobs by cutting wages or offering other attractions to would-be employers. They then assert that these examples tell us what would be needed to expand overall employment.

The point, of course, is that all such arguments amount to committing the fallacy of composition…The essence of macroeconomics is understanding why such things are a fallacy, why what happens if one group does something is not at all what happens when everyone does it.

But you see, here’s the thing: According to the standard Economics 101 version of the sticky-wage Keynesian model, this is a case where what happens if one group does something is exactly the same as what happens when everyone does it. According to that model, as long as wages continue to fall, firms will continue to move along their labor demand curves until we reach full employment.

Continue reading ‘Economics 102′

Paul Krugman, not for the first time, invokes the Great Capitol Hill Baby Sitting Co-Op Crisis as a metaphor for the macroeconomy.

First things first: Krugman is absolutely right that we learn a lot from well-chosen simple examples. But this particularly example seems poorly chosen.

The Capitol Hill Baby-Sitting Co-Op consisted of about 150 couples who baby sat for each other. They paid each other in scrip — pieces of paper each worth a half hour of baby-sitting time. New members received 20 units of scrip, which they were expected to pay back upon retiring. Aside from that, you earned scrip by baby-sitting, and you purchased baby-sitting with scrip, so that in the long run you’d sit exactly as much as you were sat for.

The problem was that people started hoarding scrip, thinking they might need it someday. As a result, the demand for babysitting services dried up. This made it harder to earn scrip, which encouraged even more hoarding, and so on around the vicious circle. The solution was to issue more scrip — each member got 10 more units. This made the hoarders a little less frantic and a little more willing to go out, which meant more sitting jobs were available, which eased the hoarder’s minds still further, and soon the co-op entered a golden age.

That, says Krugman, is the story of most recessions. People hoard money, which makes it hard to earn money, which makes people hoard still more money, which makes it even harder to earn money. The solution is to issue more money.

But here’s the part of the baby-sitting story that never made sense to me: Continue reading ‘Nursery Tales’