Friday, March 15, 2024

How the digital world is getting better at measuring us up

These days we hear incessantly about “data”. The media is full of reports of new data about this or that, and there’s a new and growing occupation of data analysts and even data scientists. So, what is data, where does it come from, what are people doing with it, and why should I care?

Google “data” and you find it’s “facts and statistics collected together for reference or analysis”. The advent of computers has allowed businesses and governments to record, calculate, play with and store huge amounts of data.

Businesses have data about what goods and services they’re making, buying and selling, importing or exporting, and paying their workers, going back for 30 or 40 years.

Our banks have data about what we earn and what we spend it on, especially when we use a credit or debit card – or our phone – to pay for something.

Much of this data is required to be supplied to government agencies. If you ever go onto the Australia Taxation Office’s website to do your annual tax return, it will offer to “pre-fill” your return with stuff it already knows about your income from wages, bank interest and dividends.

Try it sometime. You’ll be amazed by how much the taxman knows and how accurate his data are.

Another dimension of the “information revolution” is how advances in international telecommunications – including via satellites – have allowed us to be in touch with people and institutions around the world in real-time via email and the web – news, entertainment, social media, whatever.

Last month, the Australian Statistician – aka the boss of the Australian Bureau of Statistics – Dr David Gruen, gave a speech outlining some of the ways these huge banks of “big data” about the economic activities of the nation’s businesses, workers, consumers and governments can be used to improve the way we measure the economy in all its aspects: employment, inflation, gross domestic product and the rest.

We’re getting more information and more accurate information, and we’re getting it much sooner than we used to. But we’re still in the early days of exploiting this opportunity to be better informed about what’s happening in the economy and to have better information to guide the government’s decisions about its policies to improve the economy’s performance.

Gruen starts by describing the Tax Office’s “single-touch” payroll system, software that automatically receives information about employees’ payments every time an employer runs its payroll program.

Not all employers have the software, but those who do account for more than 10 million of our 14 million employees.

Gruen says the arrival of the pandemic in early 2020 made access to this “rich vein of near real-time information” an urgent priority. The taxman pulled out the stops, and the stats bureau began receiving these data in early April 2020.

With a virus spreading through the land and governments ordering lockdowns and border closures, they couldn’t afford to wait a month or more to find out what was happening in the economy. Thus, the whole project of using big data to help measure the economy received an enormous kick along – here and in all the other rich economies.

So, in addition to the longstanding monthly sample survey of the labour force, we now have a new publication: Weekly Payroll Jobs and Wages Australia. These data allowed the econocrats—and the rest of us—to chart the dramatic collapse in jobs across the economy over the three weeks from mid-March 2020.

They show employment in the accommodation and food services industry falling by more than a quarter in just three weeks. Employment in the arts and recreation services industry fell by almost 20 per cent. By contrast, falls in utilities and education and training were minor.

The monthly labour force survey has a sample size of about 50,000 people, compared with the payroll program’s 10 million-plus people, meaning it provides information on far more dimensions of the workforce than the old way does.

So, the bureau’s access to payroll data taught it new ways of doing things. And the pandemic increased econocrats’ appetite for more info about the economy that was available in real-time.

With household consumption – consumer spending – accounting for about half of gross domestic product, improving the timeliness and detail of the data was a great idea.

So, in February 2022, the bureau released the first monthly household spending indicator using (note this) aggregated and de-identified data on credit and debit card transactions supplied by the major banks. This indicator provides two-thirds coverage of household consumption, compared with the less than one-third coverage provided by the usual survey of retail trade.

The bureau has also begun publishing a monthly consumer price index in addition to the usual quarterly index. This is possible because big data – in the form of data from scanners at checkout counters and data scraped from the websites of supermarket chains – is much cheaper to gather than the old way.

The bureau has also started integrating different but related sets of big data from several sources, so analysts can study the behaviour of individual consumers or businesses. It has developed two large integrated data assets.

The one for individuals links families and households with data sets on income and taxation, social support, education, health, migrants and disability.

The one for businesses links them with a host of surveys of aspects of business activity, income and taxation, overseas trade, intellectual property and insolvency.

The purpose is to allow analysts from government departments, universities or think tanks to shed light on policy problems from multiple dimensions.

For instance, one study showed that people over 65 who’d had their third COVID vaccination within the previous three months were 93 per cent less likely to die from the virus than an unvaccinated person.

But that’s just the tiniest example of what we’ll be able to find out.

Read more >>

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Well-off baby boomers should pay more for their aged care

The report of the aged care taskforce, released on Tuesday, makes eminently sensible proposals for changes to cover the ever-growing cost of aged care. But since its solution is to require the well-off elderly to bear more of the cost, I doubt if Aged Care Minister Anika Wells will be able to implement the changes without much pushback from those well-off elderly – otherwise known as the “wealthy Boomers”.

The cost of aged care – both residential care and, increasingly, at-home care – is expected to grow hugely in the coming decade for three reasons. First, because federal governments have been underspending on care, as repeated Four Corners exposes have kept reminding us.

There’s been a lot of catch-up spending since the shocking report of the Royal Commission into Aged Care Quality and Safety in 2021, but there’s more catching up to do.

Second, there’s the continuing retirement of the Baby Boomer bulge, plus the increased care that later, longer-living generations will require.

Third, as living standards rise, so do the expectations of the aged for something a lot better than their parents settled for.

The federal government’s spending on aged care last financial year totalled $27 billion. It’s expected to have reached $42 billion by 2026-27. And there’s a lot more to go after that.

The royal commission suggested that the increased spending could be covered by a Medicare-like levy of 1 per cent of everyone’s taxable income. But the taskforce rightly rejected that idea as too unfair to younger taxpayers.

Don’t forget that few of the elderly pay much income tax, even those earning so much that, were they younger, they’d be paying a lot.

So the taskforce has come up with a solution that previous governments have, for decades, not been game to propose: ask the well-off elderly to pay a higher proportion of the daily living expenses – meals, laundry and cleaning – and accommodation costs.

At present, those in residential care who can afford it are required to pay a “refundable accommodation deposit” of many thousands, which is refunded when they leave or die. Effectively, it’s an interest-free loan to the provider of the residential care facility. On the strength of this, those who provide a deposit aren’t asked to pay much of their accommodation costs.

It’s never been a popular arrangement, so the taskforce proposes to phase it out between 2030 and 2035. Those on the old arrangement would be “grandfathered” – allowed to stay on the old deal.

But newcomers would go onto the new, rental-only scheme and be asked to pay a lot more for the accommodation cost than people of lower means.

Unlike me, many Baby Boomers vociferously object to being held responsible for the unfair way the younger generations are treated by the tax system, the superannuation system, the university fees system and the gig-economy system.

But though it’s wrong for youngsters to assume all Baby Boomers are rolling in it – some are still renting and others are locked in long-term unemployment – the truth is that, as a generation, most Baby Boomers have had a rails-run.

Those who went to university got scholarships rather than debt. Most males had little trouble finding a good, permanent, full-time job. They were able to buy a first home without much trouble, have stayed in the property market and today own a house worth an unbelievable sum – through no great effort of their own.

Baby Boomers are the first generation to gain much from the introduction of compulsory superannuation in 1992. These days, almost everyone retires with some significant superannuation sum, and those of us who’ve taken advantage of the various concessions have reached retirement age with super sums in the millions.

The super system is wildly biased in favour of the well-off. And the people who try to tell you that having super and other savings sufficient to eliminate (or even just reduce) their eligibility for the age pension makes them a “self-funded retiree” are deluded.

They have no idea what a high proportion of their payout has come from accumulated tax concessions rather than contributions.

So how would the well-off elderly afford to pay for a much greater share of their aged care costs? By dipping into their super.

The justification for superannuation and all the money it costs the taxpayer is to allow the retired to live comfortably in their final years when they’re too old to work. So the notion of many that they must live only on the annual earnings and never dip in to the principal is wrong-headed.

No, you were granted such generous tax breaks only to support you in retirement. For the well-off elderly to want to pass what’s left of their super on to their offspring is to make the world even more unfair than it already is.

Let’s hope Minister Wells and her boss have the conviction to stick to their guns when the Boomers start crying poor in defence of their privileged existence.

Read more >>

Monday, March 11, 2024

Speech in the Great Hall of Sydney University

I’m too old to suffer from impostor syndrome, but the thought has occurred to me that, had the University of Sydney’s officials taken a look at my academic transcript at Newcastle University, and seen how much trouble I had persuading that uni to give me a pass degree, we’d be holding this gathering down at Ralph’s cafe in the women’s gym.

The truth is that I had a lot of trouble passing a subject called economics, which I couldn’t make any sense of – perhaps because it didn’t interest me greatly. I failed a subject called international economics but, since it was the last subject I had to go, my lecturer was prevailed upon to give me a conceded pass.

So I have to tell you I’m a bit bemused by a university, of all institutions, making such a fuss about me and my job. I’ve spent much of my time urging the people I’ve helped to hire and train as economic journalists not to write like an academic. Keep it simple, I’d say. Don’t try to impress people with big words. Try to be understood, not to mystify. Now, obviously, that’s not the right advice to be giving an academic.

In my job, I’m paid to have an opinion on everything. And I’m paid to give free advice to everyone, from the prime minister down. And I’m now so much older than my boss I’m allowed to give him – and sometimes her – free advice. She or he, of course, is paid to pretend she greatly values that advice.

So while I’m here in this hallowed hall of learning, let me give the academics two bits of free advice. Some years ago, the federal government’s chief scientist paid good money to get one of those now-infamous four firms of accountants-turned-consultants to fudge up a dollar figure for the value of science to the economy. 

One of my proteges, filling in for me while I was on holidays, Gareth Hutchens, these days a columnist at the ABC, wrote a piece saying the chief scientist had to be kidding. Anyone who wasn’t smart enough to know that our material prosperity was built on technological advance, and that technological advance rested on a bed of pure science, wasn’t someone who’d be impressed by any magic number. Gareth was right, of course.

The point is, academics should never yield to intimidation by those who can see no further than immediate income. Academics must never be ashamed to proclaim their belief in the value of knowledge for its own sake. Knowledge doesn’t have to have a monetary value to be of value. Humans are an inquisitive species. We’d like to know whether the universe is expanding for no better reason than that we’d like to know. And thanks to the material prosperity science has brought us, we can afford to pay some scientist to find out for us.

My second bit of free advice is that universities should never be ashamed of their preoccupation with theory rather than practice. Every profession needs its theory. We develop theories to help us make some order, some meaning, out of the seeming chaos we see around us.

If you look at what I write about the economy, I think you’ll find I write about economic theory a lot more than other economic commentators do. Why? Because I think theory is important. Academic economists will complain that I’m often very critical of economic theory. Why? Because I think theory is important. The great sin in academic economics is to stop seeking the truth because you think you’ve already found it.

I want to talk now about the little-discussed paradox of the commercial news media. On one hand, most news outlets are in the business of selling their news to make a profit, just like all businesses. On the other, the commercial news media play a vital role in our democracy, informing citizens about the actions of governments and holding governments to account. We rarely think about this paradox, but the truth is, it was ever thus. We had newspapers before we had democracy.

Today we talk about public-interest journalism, but I like to think of it as the commercial media’s “higher purpose”. Making enough profit to keep our shareholders happy is the obvious part, but we must keep our eyes focused on the more important part, our self-appointed duty to ensure our readers are kept fully informed about all the things our governments are doing – and not doing

There’s an old saying in journalism: news is anything somebody somewhere doesn’t want you to know about. Governments have a lot of things they do want the public to know about what they’re doing. And their spin doctors are always trying to induce the news media to help them get the good news out to the voters

Governments have a near monopoly on news about their own doings. When they want something known, they can just put out a press release. Or, maybe a better idea would be for me to leak it to you exclusively – provided you give it a lot of prominence, and provided you run it uncritically. Why would the media agree to such a restriction on their freedom to fully inform their readers? Because if I play along today, you might give me another leak tomorrow. And that will make me look a lot more successful than my competitors.

Small problem: what about the reader? Is this the way to keep them fully informed and ensure they’re never misinformed? What if I’m so busy trying to be the best at extracting from the government news the government wants our readers to know about that I neglect my duty to dig out all the news the government doesn’t want our readers to know about?

Now, let me be clear. In saying this critical stuff, I don’t want you thinking I’m having a go at my own masthead. I’m giving my free advice to all mastheads. The mastheads formerly known as Fairfax aren’t perfect. No one knows that better than I do. But there are other outlets that have strayed a lot further from perfection than we have. Naturally, I won’t name those other Australian news outlets.

The digital revolution has hugely changed the news media. Once I’m retired, I’ll give in to the thought that it was all much better in my day. But while my day is still the present day, I can see the things that are better than they were.

These days, the mastheads our envious competitors like to dismiss as “the Nine newspapers” devote more resources to investigative journalism than we ever have. Maybe because of the digital world we now inhabit, generating your own news makes more commercial sense. What I’d add is that we need to make all our ordinary news more investigative. More questioning of all the messages some interest group or another wants us to pass on to our readers.

Another thing that’s better than it used to be – one close to my heart – is much greater emphasis on explanatory journalism. The internet has hugely increased the blizzard of news that we must fight our way through each day. Our readers don’t need more news, they need more help figuring out what on earth it all means. This, of course, is a big part of what I’ve always seen as my role.

With the advent of the internet, social media, the greater scope for the spread of misinformation and disinformation, and now AI, it’s easy see all this as a huge threat to what’s now called the MSM – the mainstream media, of which the SMH is a prime example. We live in a media world where people are finding it harder and harder to know whose news to believe. Who to trust.

What I want to say is that, for the mainstream media, and the quality end of the MSM, all the extra doubt and uncertainty about who to believe is playing into our hands. We are still more trusted by our customers than other, less reputable sources of information. Provided we retain our readers’ trust, work to regain what trust we have lost, and make retaining the trust of our readers our highest priority, I think we’ll survive – maybe even prosper – in a world teeming with misinformation.

We must never knowingly mislead our readers. We must see quickly correcting any errors we’ve made inadvertently, not as an admission of failure, but as badge of honour. Proof that we can be trusted. It means no more “I’m not sure it’s true, but it’s a great yarn and the punters will love it” stories. No more dubious stories published to oblige a powerful source – usually a government – and keep it supplying us with exclusives. It means telling our readers what they need to know, not what they want to hear. It means being a good read the hard way, not the easy way.

I’m confident that, if we get the trust right, enough money will follow. I’m hoping to stay around doing my bit for a few years yet.

This is an edited version of the speech Ross Gittins gave at the event honouring his 50th anniversary at The Sydney Morning Herald. Held in the Great Hall of the University of Sydney and staged in partnership with the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences.

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RBA will decide how long the economy's slump lasts

The media are always setting “tests” that the government – or the opposition – must pass to stay on top of its game. But this year, it’s the Reserve Bank facing a big test: will it crash the economy in its efforts to get inflation down?

There’s a trick, however: when the Reserve stuffs up, it doesn’t pay the price, the elected government does. This asymmetry is the downside of the modern fashion of allowing central banks to be independent of the elected government. Everything’s fine until the econocrats get it badly wrong.

It’s clear from last week’s national accounts that the economy has slowed to stalling speed. It could easily slip into recession – especially as defined by the lightweight two-successive-quarters-of-negative-growth brigade – or, more likely, just go for a period in which the population keeps growing but the economy, the real gross domestic product, doesn’t, and causes unemployment to keep rising.

Because interest rates affect the economy with a lag, the trick to successful central banking is to get your timing right. If you don’t take your foot off the brake until you see a sign saying “inflation: 2.5 per cent”, you’re bound to run off the road.

So now’s the time to think hard about lifting your foot and, to mix the metaphor, ensuring the landing is soft rather than hard.

Here’s a tip for Reserve Bank governor Michele Bullock. If you get it wrong and cause the Albanese government to be tossed out in a year or so’s time, two adverse consequences for the Reserve would follow.

First, it would be decades before the Labor Party ever trusted the Reserve again. Second, the incoming Dutton government wouldn’t feel a shred of secret gratitude to the Reserve for helping it to an undeserved win. Rather, it would think: we must make sure those bastards in Martin Place aren’t able to trip us up like they did Labor.

Last week’s national accounts told us just what we should have expected. They showed that real GDP – the nation’s total production of goods and services – grew by a negligible 0.2 per cent over the three months to the end of December.

This meant the economy grew by 1.5 per cent over the course of 2023. If that looks sort of OK, it isn’t. Get this: over the past five quarters, the percentage rate of growth has been 0.8, 0.6, 0.5, 0.3 and 0.2. How’s that for a predictable result?

Now you know why, just before the figures were released, Treasurer Jim Chalmers warned that we could see a small negative. It’s a warning we can expect to hear again this year.

If you ignore the short-lived, lockdown-caused recession of 2020, 1.5 per cent is the weakest growth in 23 years.

But it’s actually worse than it looks. What measly growth we did get was more than accounted for by the rapid, post-COVID growth in our population. GDP per person fell in all four quarters of last year.

So whereas real GDP grew by 1.5 per cent, GDP per person fell by 1 per cent. We’ve been in a “per-person recession” for a year.

It’s not hard to see where the weaker growth in overall GDP is coming from. Consumer spending makes up more than half of GDP, and it grew by a mere 0.1 per cent in both the December quarter and the year.

At a time when immigration is surging, and it’s almost impossible to find rental accommodation, spending on the building of new homes fell by more than 3 per cent over the year.

Of course, this slowdown is happening not by accident, but by design. Demand for goods and services had been growing faster than the economy’s ability to supply them, permitting businesses of all kinds to whack up their prices and leaving us with a high rate of inflation.

Economists – super-smart though they consider themselves to be – have been able to think of no better way to stop businesses exploiting this opportunity to profit at the expense of their customers than to knock Australia’s households on the head, so they can no longer spend as much.

For the past several decades, we’ve done this mainly by putting up interest rates, so people with mortgages were so tightly pressed they had no choice but to cut their spending. The Reserve began doing this during the election campaign in May 2022, and did it again 12 more times, with the last increase as recently as last November.

It would be wrong, however, to give the Reserve all the credit – or the blame – for the 12 months of slowdown we’ve seen. It’s had help from many quarters. First is the remarkable rise in rents, the chief cause of which is an acute shortage of rental accommodation, affecting roughly a third of households.

Next are the nation’s businesses which, in their zeal to limit inflation, have raised their wages by about 4.5 percentage points less than they’ve raised their prices. Talk about sacrifice.

And finally, there’s the federal government, which has done its bit by restraining its spending and allowing bracket creep to claw back a fair bit of the inflation-caused growth in wage rates. As a consequence, the budget has swung from deficit to surplus, thereby helping to restrain aggregate demand.

It’s the help the Reserve has had from so many sources that risks causing it to underestimate the vigour with which spending is now being restrained. It’s far from the only boy standing on the burning deck.

Last week some were criticising the Reserve for popping up in November, after doing nothing for five months, and giving the interest-rate screws another turn while, as we now know, the economy was still roaring along at the rate of 0.2 per cent a quarter.

The critics are forgetting the politics of economics. That isolated tightening was probably the new governor signalling to the world that she was no pushover when it came to the Reserve’s sacred duty to protect us from inflation.

In any case, a rate rise of a mere 0.25 per cent isn’t much in the scheme of things. It’s possible that quite a few hard-pressed home buyers felt the extra pain. But when did anyone ever worry about them and their pain? It was the central bankers’ duty to sacrifice them to the economy’s greater good – namely, preventing the nation’s profit-happy chief executives from doing what comes naturally to all good oligopolists.

The looming stage 3 tax cuts should give a great boost to the economy, of course, provided seriously rattled families don’t choose to save rather than spend them.

What matters most, however, is by how much unemployment and underemployment rise before the economy resumes firing on all cylinders. So far, the rate of unemployment has risen to 4.1 per cent from its low of 3.5 per cent in February last year.

By recent standards, that’s still an exceptionally low level, and a modest increase in the rate. But for a more definitive assessment, come back this time next year.

Read more >>

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Climate change is taking over the news - in case you hadn't noticed

I keep reading psychologists warning that talking about how terrible climate change will be is counterproductive. Rather than causing the deniers to see the error of their ways, it just makes them close their minds to further argument.

So this column isn’t for them. Rather, it’s to speak to the rest of us – those who don’t try to tell the scientists they’ve got it all wrong – to review the latest evidence that climate change is already upon us (what sane person could not have realised it?) and getting worse as each year flashes by our eyes.

I fear for my five grandkids’ future (as I may have mentioned before) but, to tell the truth, I’m glad I’ll be dead and gone before it reaches its worst. What we must do, like all those who voted teal at the last election, is to press both major parties to speed up our efforts and make Australia a leader rather than a laggard in the global push to limit how bad it gets.

Professor Albert Van Dijk of the Australian National University, an expert on precipitation, is part of an international team of researchers who’ve issued a report, the Global Water Monitor, using data from thousands of ground stations and satellites to document the effect of last year’s record heat on the world’s water cycle.

“We found global warming is profoundly changing the water cycle,” he says. “As a result, we are seeing more rapid and severe droughts, as well as more severe storms and flood events.”

Van Dijk says the most obvious sign of the climate crisis is the unprecedented heatwaves that swept the globe in 2023. Some 77 countries experienced their highest average annual temperature in at least 45 years. This “gave us a glimpse of what a typical year with 1.5 degrees Celsius of warming may look like,” he says. Warming consistently more than 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels is expected to have extreme and irreversible impacts on the Earth’s system.

“The high temperatures were often accompanied by very low air humidity. The relative air humidity of the global land surface was the second-driest on record in 2023. Rapid drying of farms and forests caused crops to fail and forests to burn.

“Lack of rain and soaring temperatures intensified multi-year droughts in vulnerable regions such as South America, the Horn of Africa and the Mediterranean ... This continuing trend towards drier conditions is threatening agriculture, biodiversity and overall water security.”

Get this: “The world’s forests have been soaking up a lot of our fossil fuel emissions. That’s because plant photosynthesis absorbs carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. Large disturbances like fire and drought reduce or even reverse that function.”

Rising sea surface and air temperatures have been intensifying the strength and rainfall intensity of monsoons, cyclones and other storm systems, Van Dijk adds.

We saw this when Cyclone Jasper battered northern Queensland and severe storms formed in south-east Queensland, leaving a trail of destruction. The cyclone moved much slower than expected, causing torrential rains and widespread flooding.

Enough of that. Australia’s Climate Council, a community funded organisation created by former members of the Climate Commission after it was abolished by the Abbott government in 2013, has created a “heat map” using thousands of data points from the CSIRO and help from the Bureau of Meteorology.

If we assume, perhaps optimistically, that all countries meet their present UN commitments to reduce emissions, the heat map predicts that western Sydney will swelter through twice as many days above 35 degrees and three weeks above 35 degrees every summer.

Temperatures will be worsened by the “urban heat-island effect”, as materials such as asphalt and concrete amplify heat by as much as 10 degrees during extreme heat.

Melbourne, too, faces double the number of days above 35 degrees by 2050. Will it take that long for the Australian Open to be moved?

Which brings us to last month, when six transmission line towers in Victoria were destroyed by extreme wind gusts from thunderstorms, leading to about 500,000 people losing power. The intense winds knocked trees onto local power lines or toppled the poles. Some people went without electricity for more than a week.

A month earlier, severe thunderstorms and wind took out five transmission towers in Western Australia and caused widespread outages. In January 2020, storms caused the collapse of six transmission towers in Victoria.

And, of course, in 2016 all of South Australia lost power for several hours after extreme winds damaged many transmission towers.

Recent research by Dr Andrew Dowdy and Andrew Brown, of the University of Melbourne, suggests that climate change is likely to cause more favourable conditions for thunderstorms with damaging winds, particularly in inland regions. But more research is needed to confirm this.

Van Dijk gets the last word: “Overall, 2023 provided a stark reminder of the consequences of our continued reliance on fossil fuels and the urgent need but apparent inability of humanity to act decisively to cut greenhouse gas emissions.”

Read more >>

Monday, March 4, 2024

Contrary to appearances, the stage 3 tax cuts will leave us worse off

It’s time we stopped kidding ourselves about the looming tax cuts. They’re what you get when neither of the two big parties is game to make real tax reforms, and the best they can do is lumber us with yet another failed attempt to wedge the other side.

If you want real reform, vote for the minor parties, which may be able to use their bargaining power in the Senate to get something sensible put through.

The stage 3 tax cuts always were irresponsible, and still are. They’ve caused interest rates to be raised by more than they needed to be, and they’ll leave us with substandard government services, as well as plunging us back into deficit and debt.

Only an irresponsible (Coalition) government would commit themselves to making a huge tax cut of a specified shape more than six years ahead of an unknowable future, hoping they could trick Labor into making itself an easy political target by opposing them.

Back then, the Libs thought the budget was returning to continuing surpluses. Wrong. They didn’t think there’d be a pandemic. Wrong. They had no idea it would be followed by an inflation surge and a cost-of-living crisis.

Only an irresponsible (Labor) opposition would go along with legislating the tax cuts five years ahead of time, then promise not to change them should it win the 2022 election.

Let’s be clear. Just because Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s changes made the tax cuts less unfair, that doesn’t make them good policy. And just because many families, hard-pressed by the cost-of-living crisis, will be pleased to have the relief the tax cuts bring, that doesn’t mean the tax cuts are now good policy.

Don’t be misled by the Reserve Bank’s acceptance of Albanese’s claim that his changes would not add to inflation. Any $20 billion-a-year tax cut is a huge stimulus to demand, imparting further upward pressure on prices.

All the Reserve was saying was that diverting a lump of the tax cut from high-income earners to middle and low earners wouldn’t make much difference to the degree of stimulus. Why wasn’t it worried about a $20 billion inflationary stimulus? Because it had known it was coming for years, and had already taken account of it, increasing interest rates sufficiently to counter its future inflationary effect.

Get it? Had there been no huge tax cut in the offing, interest rates would now be lower than they are, and causing less cost-of-living pain.

As the Grattan Institute’s Brendan Coates and Kate Griffiths have reminded us, the big loser from the stage 3 tax cuts – whether the original or the revised version – is the budget.

The budget has done surprisingly well from the return to full employment, the effect of continuing high commodity prices on miners’ payments of company tax and from wage inflation’s effect on bracket creep. So much so that it returned to a healthy surplus last financial year. It may well stay in surplus this financial year.

Great. But next year it’s likely to return to deficit and stay there for the foreseeable future. Why? Because we can’t afford to give ourselves a $20 billion annual tax cut at this time. As if we didn’t have enough debt already, we’ll be borrowing to pay for our tax cut.

In theory, of course, we could pay for it with a $20 billion-a-year cut in government spending. But, as the Coalition was supposed to have learnt in 2014 – when voters reacted badly to its plans for big spending cuts, and it had to drop them post-haste – this is a pipe dream.

No, in truth, what voters are demanding is more spending, not less. The previous government went for years using fair means or foul – robo-debt, finding excuses to suspend people’s dole payments, neglecting aged care, allowing waiting lists to build up – to hold back government spending as part of its delusional claim to be able to reduce taxes.

As Dr Mike Keating, a former top econocrat, has said, we keep forgetting that the purpose of taxation is to pay for the services that our society demands, and which are best financed collectively.

So when we award ourselves a tax cut we can’t afford, the first thing we do is condemn ourselves to continuing unsatisfactory existing services, and few of the additional services we need.

Those additional services include education – from early education to university – healthcare, childcare, aged care, disability care and defence. (Another thing the Libs didn’t foresee in 2018: our desperate need to acquire nuclear subs.)

But don’t hold your breath waiting for any politician from either major party to explain that home truth to the punters. No, much better to keep playing the crazy game where the Libs unceasingly claim to be the party of “lower, simpler and fairer taxes” and Labor says “I’ll see you and raise you”.

Anyone who knows the first thing about tax reform knows that achieving that trifecta is impossible. But if the Liberal lightweights realise how stupid repeating that nonsense makes them seem to the economically literate, they don’t care.

All they know is that the punters lap up that kind of self-delusion. Which, of course, is why Labor never calls them out on their nonsense.

The other thing we do by pressing on with tax cuts we can’t afford is sign up for more deficits and debt. Coates and Griffiths remind us that the high commodity prices the budget is benefitting from surely can’t last forever.

If you exclude this temporary benefit, Grattan estimates that we’re running a “structural” budget deficit of close to 2 per cent of gross domestic product, or about $50 billion a year in today’s dollars.

We’re ignoring it now, but one day we’ll have to at least start covering the extra interest we’ll be paying. How? By increasing taxes. How else? Ideally, we’d introduce new taxes that improved our economic efficiency or the system’s fairness. Far more likely, we’ll just be given back less bracket creep.

It’s the pollies’ bipartite policy of not stopping bracket creep by indexing the income tax scales each year that makes their unceasing talk of lower tax so dishonest and hypocritical. They’ve demonised all new taxes or overt increases in existing taxes, while keeping bracket creep hidden in their back pocket.

Which is not to argue we must eradicate it. Most of the tax reform we’ve had – notably, the introduction of the goods and services tax – has come with the political sweetener of a big, bracket-creep-funded cut in income tax. (Would-be reformers, please note.)

Another name for bracket creep is “automatic stabiliser”. When spending is growing strongly and inflation pressure is building, bracket creep is one of the budget’s main instruments working automatically to help restrain demand by causing people’s after-tax income to rise by a lower percentage than their pre-tax income.

The pollies can’t just let bracket creep roll on for forever. You have to use the occasional tax cut to return some of the proceeds. But July 2024 turned out to be quite the wrong time to do it.

So even if the Reserve starts to cut interest rates towards the end of this year, the tax cuts mean rates will stay higher for longer than they needed to.

Read more >>

Friday, March 1, 2024

Good news: our falling productivity is too bad to be true

There are few aspects of the economy on which more bulldust is spoken than our productivity. The world abounds with people trying to tell us that our productivity performance is a real worry and the way to fix it is to cut their taxes or give them a government handout. Yeah, sure.

These snake oil salesmen (and they’re almost always men) have been having a field day lately. Did you know that last financial year, 2022-23, the productivity of our labour actually fell by 3.7 per cent?

Fortunately, some sense arrived this week. The Productivity Commission issued its annual productivity bulletin, providing “the most complete picture to date of the drivers of Australia’s productivity decline over 2022-23,” it said. We now have a clearer understanding of what’s behind the slump, we’re told.

But first, let’s be sure you know what productivity is. It’s a comparison of the economy’s output of goods and services – measured by real gross domestic product – relative to our inputs of raw materials, labour and physical capital (machines, buildings, roads, bridges and so forth).

Our productivity improves when we use the same quantity of inputs to produce a greater quantity of outputs. In other words, it’s a measure of our efficiency.

We can improve our technical efficiency by inventing better machines for workers to work with, thinking of better ways to organise our mines, farms, factories and offices, increasing the skills of our workers, and having the government provide us with better roads and public transport to go about our business.

Usually, we focus on the productivity of our labour, measured by dividing real GDP during a period by the total number of hours employees and bosses worked during the period.

Over the past 28 years, the productivity of our workers increased at the average rate of 1.3 per cent a year. This improvement, when passed on to workers as higher “real” wages – wages growing faster than prices – is the main reason our material standard of living is much higher than our grandparents enjoyed.

The productivity of our labour generally improves a bit almost every year. It can fall a little during recessions, but it’s never fallen by anything like as much as 3.7 per cent. Which may mean the world’s coming to an end, but it’s more likely to mean there’s something funny going on with the figures.

The commission’s first revelation is that the number of hours worked during the financial year grew by an unprecedented 6.9 per cent, whereas the economy’s output of goods and services grew by 3 per cent. So, as a matter of simple arithmetic, our productivity worsened.

Now, before you jump to terrible conclusions, there are a few points to make. The first – which the commission didn’t make, but should have – is that one of the most basic things we expect the economy to do for us is to provide paid employment for all those of us who want to work.

And what happened last financial year is that a lot more people got jobs, and a lot of people working part-time got the extra hours of work they’d been seeking. It’s a safe bet that all those people being paid to work more hours were pleased to oblige.

So, before we beat ourselves up, we need to be clear that the unprecedented rise in hours worked was a good thing, not a bad thing. It was, in fact, part of the economy’s return to full employment for the first time in 50 years. That’s bad?

No, rather than cursing our bad luck or bad management, we should be asking questions: how on earth did that happen? It doesn’t make sense. Employers employ people to produce goods and services, not because they feel sorry for people who need a job.

So, if they increased their labour inputs by 6.9 per cent, how come their output of products increased by only 3 per cent?

When you hire more workers, you usually need to buy more tools and equipment for them to work with. If you don’t bother, then the extra workers won’t be as productive as your existing workers, and your average productiveness will fall.

The commission points out that businesses’ decisions to hire more workers didn’t lead them to acquire an equivalent amount of extra machines and other physical capital. The nation’s ratio of physical capital to labour fell by 4.9 per cent in the year – the biggest recorded decline in our history. “This meant on average, each worker had access to a shrinking amount of capital, which weighed down labour productivity,” it told us.

The point is, if you want productivity to improve, you need an increasing ratio of capital to labour. So, if businesses aren’t increasing their investment in capital equipment and structures sufficiently, don’t be surprised if productivity is getting worse rather than better.

But while I think it’s true that weak business investment is an important part of the explanation for our weak performance on labour productivity over the past decade, I don’t think it’s the reason productivity fell by 3.7 per cent last financial year.

No. One possibility is that while business has hired a lot more workers, it’s taking a bit longer for the increased investment and greatly increased output to come through. This is a common problem with the interpretation of changes in the economy over short periods. Wait a bit longer and the puzzle disappears.

But I think the true explanation is bigger than that – and so does the commission. It points out that, during the pandemic, measured productivity rose rapidly – mostly because high-productivity industries kept working, while low-productivity industries were locked down – but last financial year that measured gain disappeared.

Get it? COVID and our response to it, with lockdowns and economic stimulus, did strange things to the economy and to our measurements of it.

But by about June last year, the level of labour productivity was about the same as it was before the pandemic. We didn’t get much productivity improvement, but nor did we go backwards.

Read more >>

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Paying for the cowpat sandwich Morrison handed Albo

It never pays to be too sorry for politicians. They’re all volunteers, they’re well paid for what they do, and even the nicest of them have thrust themselves ahead of many others to get as far as they have.

But I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for Anthony Albanese. He got himself elected by promising not to change much, but I doubt he expected to be handed quite such a cowpat sandwich from the smirking Scott Morrison.

As part of his efforts to prove he could keep taxes lower than Labor, Morrison avoided fixing anything much and allowed waiting lists to build up. Now everywhere Albo and his ministers look, they find problems.

These problems will be expensive to fix. This week it’s Education Minister Jason Clare’s turn in the spotlight. The final report on the Universities Accord, which was released on Sunday, reveals plenty that needs fixing.

For openers, the previous government’s job-ready graduates scheme has been a disaster. Under the guise of encouraging students to pick courses that left them job-ready, it cut fees for teaching and nursing, while more than doubling the fees for such courses as arts and humanities, including economics and law.

As the experts predicted, this had little effect on the courses chosen. But it did have its intended effect: saving the government money. One expert suggests that returning tuition fees to something more reasonable could cost the government about $1 billion a year.

The report recommends that the fees for particular courses be set according to the expected lifetime earnings of someone with that degree. Good idea.

I’ve always been happy to defend the HECS-HELP debt scheme as a way of getting people to contribute towards the cost of their education. With repayments geared to the size of their income, and an interest rate far below commercial levels, it should not deter youngsters from poor families from attempting to better themselves.

But unsympathetic governments have fiddled with the scheme incessantly, and with the (hopefully brief) return to high inflation, it’s not surprising Gen Z is so dissatisfied. But Clare seems disposed towards the tweaks the report proposes.

Annual indexation of the debt would occur after deducting the year’s repayments, rather than before. The debt would be indexed to the lower of the rise in consumer prices or the wage index. And the rates at which repayments were required would be applied to successive slices of your income, just as income tax is applied.

There are shortages of workers with various tertiary qualifications at the moment, and the report sees the demand continuing to grow. At present, about 60 per cent of workers have trade or degree qualifications, and we need to reach at least 80 per cent by 2050, the report says. This would involve more than doubling the number of Commonwealth-supported students each year to 1.8 million.

Clare worries that not enough disadvantaged young people are making it to – and through – uni. (Let me tell you, people have been worrying about this at least since Gough Whitlam’s day. And even making university free didn’t help much.)

At present, people from poor families – those of “low socio-economic status” in academic-speak – account for about 17 per cent of enrolments, compared with 25 per cent of the population. Other target groups are First Nations peoples, people with a disability and people living in regional and remote areas.

The report proposes that uni students’ places be funded on a needs basis, similar to Gonski’s scheme for schools. Unis would receive a base amount per student, plus further loadings according to the particular students’ disadvantage.

This would mean regional and outer-suburban unis got a lot more funding per student than the sandstone central-city Group of Eight. But the extra money would be used to reduce the chances of disadvantaged students failing to complete their course for monetary or other reasons.

There would be fee-free courses to prepare chosen students for the rigours of university learning, and financial support for students required to undertake presently unpaid work placements.

It all sounds a big improvement. Quite apart from fairness, it’s clear that the higher the proportion of young people the government wants with a uni degree, the more it will need to include people from disadvantaged backgrounds.

But note this: none of these good ideas has been costed, let alone accepted by the Albanese government. We don’t know whether those that are accepted will start in this year’s budget or in 10 years’ time.

As for Gonski-like arrangements, the real Gonski needs-based funding for schools has still not been fully implemented more than 12 years later.

Let me quote Clare back at himself: “We’re not going to tackle this problem if we think that we can solve all the problems at the door of the university when someone turns 18.”

Just so. With education, it’s best to start at the bottom and work up. But we won’t solve many of our multitude of problems until some pollie has the courage to say maybe we need taxes to be higher, not lower.

Read more >>

Monday, February 26, 2024

Two-class school system a great way to entrench low productivity

In 2011, the Gonski report recommended that government funding of schools be needs-based and sector-blind. More than 12 years later, it still hasn’t happened. And it’s by no means certain it will happen any time soon.

The idea of sector-blind schooling – funding all students according to their needs, rather than their religion – fell at the first hurdle. Sectarianism has bedevilled attempts to ensure all our kids get a decent education since the introduction of compulsory schooling in 1880.

And so fearful of the religious vote are both major parties that this time’s been no different. Providing adequate funding for the more disadvantaged kids congregated in public schools could have been a simple matter of redistributing money from privileged private schools, but no.

Former prime minister Julia Gillard was straight out of the blocks, promising that private schools would be left no worse off. That is, disadvantaged kids would be helped only to the extent that extra money could be found for education, at the expense of all the government’s other responsibilities.

So the private schools – almost all of them professing some religious affiliation – have retained their funding priority. It used to be a matter of Catholics and Protestants but, thanks to the Howard government’s introduction of a new education priority – giving parents greater choice of which school to send their kids to – it’s now also a matter of Jewish schools, Muslim schools, “Christian” schools (code for the smaller non-conformist Protestant denominations) and soon, no doubt, Hindu schools and Buddhist schools.

If you wonder why the eternal enmities of the Middle East are echoed in faraway Australia, that’s part of the reason. “Choice” is a nice idea but, from the taxpayers’ perspective, it comes at a cost. Public schooling used to be part of the way we could be multicultural and still socially cohesive.

Now we’re paying more for it to be less so. Now, if you choose to have your kid grow up never having rubbed shoulders with people of other religions, that’s another service the taxpayer provides.

Except that it involves a monetary cost we’re reluctant to pay, and our politicians are reluctant to make us pay. How to square the circle? I know, let’s short-change the (majority of) kids still going to public schools.

But not to worry. The more things keep going the way they are, the fewer kids will be left going to public schools and the less the pollies will have to worry about the raw deal they’re getting.

We’ll have more kids leaving education with inadequate numeracy and literacy, of course, but who’ll notice that – or the extra cost to the budget – when we’ll all be so busy listening to the Business Council giving yet another sermon on the pressing need to reverse our declining productivity by cutting the company tax rate.

The beauty of a new plan to have most kids going to private schools – whether their parents can afford it or not – while only the kids of the rock-bottom poor are still going to public schools is that it’s self-reinforcing.

The more the better-paid and better-educated shift their children to private schools, the more those who are left will scrimp and save to join them.

And don’t forget this: public schooling is the default setting. One of the ways private schools maintain their reputation for greater discipline is to decline students with special needs, and expel students who cause too much trouble.

The public schools have no choice but to pick up the rejects. This wouldn’t be such a problem if they were given the extra funds needed to cope with the extra problems. But depend on it: they won’t be. This will give parents even greater incentive to get their kids out of there.

The plan does have a big drawback, however. No parent ever wants to admit it but, for many of them, a great attraction of private schooling is the greater social status it confers on the parents, as well as the old-school-tie benefits it confers on the kids.

Economists see education as a prime example of a “positional good” – a product that advertises to the world your high position in the pecking order. Trouble is, social status requires exclusivity. The more kids pile into private schooling, the less exclusive it becomes.

Economists say the demand for a good or service is “inelastic” if a rise in its price does little to deter people from buying it. As a positional good, the demand for private schooling is highly inelastic.

This explains why, not content with the big government subsidies they receive, the oldest and most famous private schools can charge parents huge fees on the top. Their fees rise faster than the inflation rate year after year, even in years of a cost-of-living crisis.

It may be that, the more parents pile into the cheaper Catholic systemic and other private schools, the more the elite private schools have to raise their fees to retain their exclusivity – their status as a positional good.

And, of course, the higher their fees, the more desirous status-seeking parents are to be seen paying them. Only the Reserve Bank’s ability to print its own money beats that. Remind me, why exactly is the taxpayer subsidising elite private schools?

Economists also say education is a “superior” good, meaning that the higher people’s real incomes rise, to more of that income they’re willing to spend on the product. In theory, people are buying more education or higher quality education.

But I have a theory that two-income families are more likely to choose private school education to prove to themselves their kids aren’t missing out. If so, they’re victims of a rarely remarked economic fallacy: anything that costs more must be of higher quality.

Fallacious though such thinking may be, the rise of the two-income family helps explain the shift to private schools and suggests it has further to run. Yet another reason to question why the federal government is propping up private schools at the expense of public schools.

Since Gonski, the feds have calculated the “schooling resource standard”, an estimate of how much total government funding a school needs to meet its students’ educational needs. The previous federal government’s agreement with the states required it to contribute 80 per cent of the private schools’ standard, with the states contributing the remaining 20 per cent.

For public schools, it was the reverse: the states pay 80 per cent, while the feds pay 20 per cent. Since the feds’ taxing powers are far greater than the states’, this deal had an inbuilt bias in favour of private schools.

As it’s worked out in practice, almost all private schools are fully funded, with many being overfunded, whereas almost all public schools are still underfunded, more than 12 years since Gonski.

The Albanese government’s Education Minister Jason Clare is renegotiating the funding agreement with the state education ministers, who met with him on Friday. They’re demanding that he hasten the public schools’ achievement of full funding by raising the feds’ contribution to 25 per cent.

You’d expect a Labor government to care about public school students getting a decent education. We’ll soon find out if it does.

Read more >>

Friday, February 23, 2024

How top earners kid themselves (and us) they're overtaxed

Apparently, the nation’s chief executives and other top people are groaning under the weight of the tax they pay. Is it any wonder they’re doing such an ordinary job of running the country’s big businesses? When you see what’s left of their pay after tax, it’s a wonder they bother turning up.

I know this will shock you – just as it does every time the business media remind their readers of it. According to the latest available figures, for 2020-21, the top-earning 1 per cent of taxpayers paid more than 18 per cent of the total income tax take.

Taxpayers in the top 10 per cent paid 46 per cent of the total income tax collection of $237 billion.

Think of it. Just the top 10 per cent pay almost half of all the taxes. Do you know that the bottom 50 per cent of taxpayers pay less than 12 per cent? Talk about lifters and leaners. Those lazy good-for-nothings have no idea how easy they get it. And still, they whinge unceasingly about the cost of living.

How’s your bulldust detector going? All the figures I’ve given you are true, but, like many of the things said in the political debate, they’re misleading. If you’re not smart enough to see how they’re misleading, that’s your lookout.

It’s true that because income tax is “progressive” – people at the top pay a much higher proportion of their income than those at the bottom – people at the top end up paying a much higher share of the total tax take.

That’s because they’re considered able to bear a bigger share of the cost of government. And remember that about two-thirds of those in the bottom half would have (often not well-paid) part-time jobs.

But what the people who bang on about how much tax they’re paying want you to forget is that although income tax is the biggest tax we pay, it’s just one of the many taxes – federal, state and local – we pay.

In fact, it accounts for only about half of all the tax we pay. And almost all the other taxes are “regressive” – they hit the bottom end proportionally harder than the top.

So, take account of all the other taxes, and the rich man’s burden is a lot less heavy than the rich old men try to tell us.

It’s clear that, of all the taxes we pay, it’s personal income tax that the well-off most object to and want to pay a lot less of. Whenever you see them arguing that we need major tax system reform to “sharpen incentives to invest, innovate and hire” and make the system “genuinely productivity-enhancing”, that’s what they really mean.

Most voters approve of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese’s decision to help ease cost-of-living pressure by diverting a big chunk of the stage 3 tax cuts from high-income earners to middle and lower earners, but the (Big) Business Council was distinctly disapproving.

“The [original] stage 3 package rewarded aspiration and started to address bracket creep with a simpler system”, but “the changes do not address any of the real issues with our tax system”, it said.

But if you’re not impressed by the argument that pretends income tax is the only tax that matters, the big business lobby has others. “Personal income contributes too much of our [total] tax revenue … [at] 51 per cent today,” it says, implying we should cut income tax and increase other, indirect taxes.

A related argument is that few countries are as reliant on income tax as we are. Figures for 2021 say our personal income tax as a proportion of total taxes is the fifth highest among the 38 member countries of the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development.

Again, it’s true but misleading. It’s a false comparison because, unlike almost all the other countries, Australia uses income tax to cover the cost of social security payments – such as unemployment and sickness benefits, disability and age pensions, as well as healthcare benefits – whereas other countries cover these with separate, income-related social security contributions imposed on workers and their employers.

Calculations by Matt Grudnoff of the Australia Institute show that if you add to income tax the social security contributions imposed in other countries (and, in our case, add the states’ payroll taxes), our ranking goes from fifth highest to seventh lowest. So much for that argument.

Some people argue that we should add our compulsory employer superannuation contributions to our income tax, now set at 11 per cent of wages. But that argument is wrong because the super levy is not a tax.

Taxes involve the government making you pay money into its coffers, which is then spent by the government as it sees fit. With super contributions, the money goes into an account with a super fund that has your name on it and is always yours to spend as you see fit once you reach a certain age. If you die without spending it all, what’s left goes to your rellos.

And here’s another thing. One reason income tax accounts for as much as half of Australia’s total tax collections is that the Abbott government abolished former prime minister Julia Gillard’s carbon tax and her mining tax.

The very business lobby groups who supported these anti-tax-reform measures are now complaining that we’re too dependent on income tax. If they were genuine, the problem could be easily fixed: take up Professor Ross Garnaut’s proposal for a new, bigger “carbon solution levy”, which, by raising $100 billion a year, would greatly reduce our reliance on income tax.

Finally, don’t let the rich guys’ talk of high taxes fool you into believing Australia is a high-tax country. That’s the opposite of the truth. When you take total taxes as a proportion of gross domestic product, the OECD average in 2021 was 34 per cent. Ours was less than 30 per cent, making us ninth lowest. And only three of the eight lower countries are rich like us.

Read more >>

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Why fixing negative gearing would be a positive for our kids

Life wasn’t meant to be easy for our politicians – which is as it should be. Poor old Anthony Albanese. No sooner has he got away with breaking his promise on the stage 3 tax cuts than he’s besieged by people demanding more tax reform.

Trouble is, they all want different things, and every one of them could cost him votes as fat cats who stand to lose some tax break join forces with the opposition to run a great scare campaign, claiming it’s ordinary voters who’d be hit.

Despite the many things wrong with our tax system, the two big parties have wedged themselves into a corner on reform. Neither side’s game to do anything for fear of what the other side would say.

But when, unsurprisingly, polling showed that most people approved of Albanese’s decision to switch about $7 billion a year of the tax cuts away from those at the top and give them to those in the middle and bottom, the would-be reformers swarmed out of the woodwork.

First out was the (Big) Business Council, terribly worried about the lack of investment and the need for greater productivity. I’ll check their claims another day.

Then came two of our best economists, Professors Ross Garnaut and Rod Sims, proposing to bring back the carbon tax, only bigger and better. As I wrote last week, it’s a good idea.

But the one to watch, another old favourite, is the talk of finally doing something to curb the negative gearing of investment properties, which really took off 20 years ago after John Howard decided that the capital gain on property and other investments should be taxed at only half the rate applying to income from actual work.

A rental property is negatively geared when so much of the cost of buying it is covered by a loan rather than your own savings that the interest bill and other expenses exceed the rent you earn.

Why would anyone deliberately set up a business to run at a loss? Because the loss is deductible against your income from work. On a small investment of your own money, you sell the property a few years later at a big capital gain, only half of which is taxed. Not bad, eh?

Former Treasury secretary Dr Ken Henry reminds us that the rental property sector’s deductions are now so huge they exceed the rental income, making it not a net taxpayer. Taken together, all those landlords contribute nothing but are being subsidised by the mug workers.

What should worry Albanese is that the Greens are now pushing negative-gearing reform as part of their efforts to rebrand themselves as the party that cares about renters and first-home buyers.

If Labor doesn’t start showing it wants to improve the daunting prospects facing the younger generation, it risks losing its share of the youth vote to the Greens. The Libs needn’t worry, they’ve lost most of their share already.

Some years ago, the Grattan Institute proposed allowing landlords’ rental losses to be deducted only from other “passive” income, not wage income. There must be some recognition that capital gains shouldn’t be taxed at their full, inflated amount, so the 50 per cent discount should be cut to 25 per cent.

Another approach would be to allow losses to be deducted against wage income only if the investment property was newly built. This would overcome the objection that investors usually buy established homes, thus adding to the demand for homes without adding to their supply, and so pushing prices up out of reach of first-home buyers.

Now, the business people who see themselves as losing from the restriction of negative gearing – the real estate agents and home building companies – always claim it would do great damage to renters and home buyers alike. Don’t believe it. When economists try to estimate the likely effects, they find them to be small. Average house prices would fall by just 1 or 2 per cent, they say. So much for the death and destruction.

But these sums underestimate the likely benefit to young buyers. While the fall in the average price of all houses and units may be small, that’s because most house prices would be unaffected. Entry-level homes, the kind bought by mum-and-dad investors and first-home buyers, would become more affordable because those prices would fall by a lot more.

What’s more, a recent study finds that the share of households who own their home rather than renting it would increase by a huge 4.7 percentage points. Nor would it surprise me if, in practice, the effect was greater than the economists’ figuring suggests.

Even so, fixing negative gearing is no magic answer to housing affordability, and the Albanese government’s efforts to increase the supply of housing, particularly in the parts of cities where people prefer to live, is another part of the answer.

Albanese and Treasurer Jim Chalmers say they have no plans to change negative gearing, but that’s what they said about changing the stage 3 tax cuts – until they were ready to move.

And with the Greens using negative gearing as a bargaining chip in the Senate, progress is far from impossible.

Read more >>

Monday, February 19, 2024

Lest we forget the unknown public servant, working to inform us

Have you ever wondered how much taxpayers’ money is wasted by our politicians and public servants? Do you hope that every dollar governments spend is fully accounted for?

And would you like it to be made public not just how much was spent on public servants’ wages, rent, grants, paperclips and other administrative expenses, but how much was being spent on each of the individual programs within education, health, police, courts, roads and all the other government departments?

Better yet, would you like to see what were the outcomes of all that spending on this program and that? That is, hard evidence on whether they were achieving their stated purpose, and by how much things were getting better or worse.

You don’t have to be keen personally to spend hours poring over the books to believe that such information must be made available for others to study: the government’s auditor-general, of course, but also the opposition, the media, nosey investigative reporters, academic experts, and even the special interest groups.

I’m pleased to tell you that all those things you’ve just agreed we need are being provided. But I need to remind you that 40 years ago, they weren’t.

In those days, government financial reports – state and federal – were a dog’s breakfast of facts and figures. If you were able to form a conclusion from them, it would probably have been wrong.

The accounts concealed about as much as they revealed. This was partly because no one had made the effort to make them more reliable and informative. And partly because this laxity made it easier for bureaucrats and politicians to fudge the figures, making things look better than they were.

But we’ve had much improvement since those bad old days. Many people have played a part in this reform, and much has happened under pressure from professional accounting bodies, the International Monetary Fund and the UN Statistical Commission.

But if you were to single out one person who drove most of the many improvements over many years, it would be Don Nicholls.

Never heard of him? That’s the way he wanted it. He was a shy, self-effacing Treasury officer, who wore a cardigan in the office and always ate a long pink iced bun for lunch. He joined the NSW Treasury straight from school in 1948, he retired in 1990, and he has just died, at 93.

If he sounds boring, know this: when he told his first wife, a writer, that writing seemed easy, she challenged him to enter the SMH short story writing competition. He won it with a story about cricket.

Some people assume only second-class minds join the public service. They’re wrong, and never more so than in Nicholls’ case. He went to a selective school, Fort Street High (one of two I went to), gained an economics degree and an accounting qualification while working and, a year after he retired, he published the tome Managing State Finance, which became the Treasury bible.

Many public servants are intent on ensuring things are done the way they always have been, but Nicholls had a strategic mind and was always thinking of ways things could be improved.

These days, all the states produce multiple performance indicators for their many activities, on a uniform basis, collated and reported annually by the federal Productivity Commission.

Nicholls introduced “program budgeting” to Australian government accounting, and he also consolidated the NSW government’s accounts so they showed the “general government” sector separately from all the businesses it owned, plus a balance sheet outlining the state’s assets and liabilities. Money hidden from view in “special deposit accounts” was brought into the open.

Before Nicholls, the government didn’t even know the value of all the buildings, businesses and land it owned. Since the year dot, businesses have used “accrual” accounting to accurately match the amount they earned during a year with their expenses during that year.

It wasn’t introduced to state and federal government accounting until about 2000. Nicholls played a big part in this, insisting on uniform rules for the measurement of budget deficits and surpluses. (Federal Treasury, however, has stuck with the old “cash” accounting, so it can still fudge the figures.)

Nicholls’ influence spread throughout Australia because he was asked to conduct separate independent audits of the finances of the NSW, Victorian, Tasmanian and South Australian governments. He was, for a time, Victoria’s Treasury secretary.

A lot more Australians are indebted to his influence than they know.

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Friday, February 16, 2024

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Want better productivity? Start by ensuring our kids can read

The trouble with our economy is that there are so many things needing to be fixed, it’s hard to know where to start. And so many of them are urgent we don’t have time to fix things one at a time. But since the economy consists simply of all the workers and all the consumers – that is, all the people – one of my guiding principles is that governments should manage the economy for the many, not the few.

This may seem obvious but, during the decades of “neoliberalism” from which we’re still emerging, it became far from obvious. Neoliberalism is the doctrine that what’s good for BHP is good for Australia. We got used to listening with rapt attention when the top 100 or so chief executives told us what needed to be done to improve productivity.

It took us too long to realise that their idea of a well-functioning economy was one where their incomes grew considerably faster than ours. They’re still at it, not having realised that we’ve stopped listening.

They’re arguing again that the most important thing we need is major tax reform – which, when you inquire, turns out to mean they’d pay less tax while we paid more.

No. I’m far more persuaded by this week’s report from Dr Jordana Hunter and Anika Stobart of the Grattan Institute, arguing we should start at the bottom, not the top, and make sure all our kids become confident readers as early as possible in their time at school.

If you’re building a house, you start by laying a firm foundation, and education should work the same way. Hunter says that in no area of education is improvement more urgent than reading. “Reading proficiency is a foundational skill that unlocks the broader curriculum and empowers young people to grasp opportunities for themselves,” she says.

Stobart says, “When children do not read fluently and efficiently in early primary school, it can undermine their future learning across all subject areas, harm their self-esteem, and limit their life chances.”

Students who struggle with reading are more likely to fall behind their classmates, become disruptive, and drop out of school. They are more likely to end up unemployed, or in poorly paid jobs, we’re told.

Why are they telling us this? Because last year’s NAPLAN testing results show that one in three Australian primary and secondary students cannot read proficiently. For Victorians, the news is better, sort of: a mere one in four.

But for Indigenous students, students from disadvantaged families, and students in regional and rural areas, it’s more than half. (Which makes you wonder why Barnaby Joyce and his National Party mates don’t have a lot more to say on public school funding.)

This appalling deficiency hasn’t just happened, it’s been going on for years without anyone making a fuss about it. Why is it happening? Hunter says the reason most of those students can’t read well enough is that we aren’t teaching them well enough.

“A key cause,” the report says, “is decades of disagreement about how to teach reading. But the evidence is now clear. The ‘whole-language’ approach, which became popular in the 1970s, doesn’t work for all students [including someone in my family years ago]. Its remnants should be banished from Australia’s schools.

“Instead, all schools should use the ‘structured literacy’ approach right through school, which includes a focus on phonics in the early years. Students should learn to sound out the letters of each word.”

Now, let’s be clear. I like teachers – especially those who tell students they must read my columns. So this is no attack on our hard-pressed teachers.

“The real issue here,” Hunter says, “is, are governments doing enough to set teachers up for success? The challenge is making sure best practice is common practice in every single classroom.”

But a key improvement is regular classroom testing, to ensure kids who are struggling get identified early and given extra help to catch up.

That, of course, takes extra money. But federal Education Minister Jason Clare is renegotiating the school funding agreement with the premiers. “The reading wars are over. We know what works,” he’s said. “The new agreement we strike this year needs to properly fund schools and tie that funding to the sort of things that work. The sort of things that will help children keep up, catch up and finish school.”

Economists often worry that the things you could do to make the economy fairer come at the expense of the economic efficiency that improves productivity. But ensuring our kids get off to a good start in life – including through early education, two years of pre-school and good literacy and numeracy – ticks both boxes.

It gives our kids better lives, it makes our workforce better skilled and more valuable, and it saves the budget a bundle in having fewer people who need special help.

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Monday, February 12, 2024

Let's stop using interest rates to throttle people with mortgages

What this country needs at a time like this is economists who can be objective, who’re willing to think outside the box, and who are disinterested – who think like they don’t have a dog in this fight.

On Friday, Reserve Bank governor Michele Bullock, with her lieutenants, made her first appearance as governor before the House of Reps economics committee.

See if you can find the logical flaw in this statement she made: “The [Reserve’s] board understands that the rise in interest rates has put additional pressure on the households that have mortgages. But the alternative of lower interest rates and high inflation for a prolonged period would be even worse for these households, as well as all the households without mortgages.”

Sorry, that’s just Bullock doing her Maggie TINA Thatcher impression, mindlessly repeating the assertion that “There Is No Alternative”. Nonsense. There are various alternatives, and if economists were doing their duty by the country, they’d be talking about them, evaluating them and proposing them.

What’s true is that the Reserve has no alternative to using interest rates to slow demand. Some economists can be forgiven for being too young to know that we didn’t always rely mainly on interest rates to fight inflation, just as we didn’t always allow the central bank to dominate the management of the economy.

These were policy changes we – and the rest of the rich world – made in the early 1980s because we thought they’d be an improvement. In principle, now we’re more aware of the drawbacks of giving the central bank dominion over macroeconomic management, there’s no reason we can’t decide to do something else.

In practice, however, don’t hold your breath waiting for the Reserve to advocate making it share its power with another authority. Nor expect the reform push to be led by economists working in industries such as banking and the financial markets, which benefit from their close relations with the central bank.

What those with eyes should have seen in recent years is that relying so heavily on an instrument as blunt as interest rates is both inequitable and inefficient. It squeezes the third of households with mortgages – or the even smaller proportion with big mortgages – while hitting the remaining two-thirds or more only indirectly.

It’s largely by chance that the Reserve’s need to jam on the demand brakes has coincided with the worst shortage of rental accommodation in ages, thereby spreading the squeeze to another third of households. Had this not happened, the Reserve would have needed to bash up home buyers even more brutally than it has.

Clearly, it would be both fairer – and thus more politically palatable – and more effective to use an instrument that directly affected a much higher proportion of households. This should mean the screws wouldn’t have to be tightened so much, another advantage.

One obvious alternative tool would be to temporarily move the rate of the goods and services tax up (or, at other times, down) a percentage point or two.

Another alternative, one I like, is to divide compulsory employer superannuation contributions into a part permanently set at 11 per cent, and a part that could be varied temporarily between plus several percentage points and minus several points.

This would leave workers less able to keep spending (or more able to spend), as the managers of demand required to stabilise both inflation and unemployment.

Its great attraction is that it involves the government temporarily fiddling with people’s ability to spend, without actually taking any money from them. Surely, this would be the least politically painful way to manage demand.

Experience with central-bank dominance has shown us one big advantage: the economic car has been driven markedly better when the brake and the accelerator are controlled by econocrats independent of the elected government.

But this simply means we’d have to set up an independent authority to control all the instruments of macro management, whether monetary or fiscal.

Not all our economists have been too stuck in the mud of orthodoxy to think these new thoughts. They were canvased by professors Ross Garnaut and David Vines in their submission to the Reserve Bank inquiry – which, predictably, was brushed aside by a panel of economists anxious to stay inside the box.

A century ago, Australians were proud of the way we showed the world better ways of doing things, such as the secret ballot and votes for women. These days, our economists are dedicated followers of international fashion.

This means the country that should be leading the way to better tools to manage demand will wait until it becomes fashionable overseas. Why should we be first? Because our unusual practice of having mainly variable-rate home loans means our use of the interest-rate tool bites a lot harder and faster, thus making our monetary policy a lot blunter than theirs.

Economists may not fret much about how badly some punters are hurting as the economic managers rapidly correct the consequences of their gross miscalculations – the Reserve played a big part in the excessive stimulus during the COVID lockdowns – but one day the politicians who carry the can politically for these miscalculations will revolt against the arrogance of their economic gurus.

Reserve Bank governors – and, in earlier times, Treasury secretaries – privately congratulate themselves for being the last backstop protecting the nation against inflation. When no one else cares, they do. When no one else will impose a cost of living crisis on spendthrift consumers, they will.

Don’t you believe it. If they cared as much as they think they do, they’d care a lot more about effective competition policy. But when the economists leading the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission – Allan Fels and later, Rod Sims – were battling to get more power to reject anticompetitive mergers, they got precious little support from their fellow economists.

While the (Big) Business Council was lobbying privately to retain the laxity, backed up on the other side by a few Labor-Party-powerful unions that had done sweetheart deals with their big employers, the Reserve and Treasury were missing in action.

The people at the bottom of the inflation cliff boast about the diligence of their ambulance service, while doing nothing to help the people at the top of the cliff trying to erect a better safety fence.

If you were looking for examples of oligopolies with pricing power, you could start with the big four banks. If you were looking for examples of “regulatory capture” – where the bureaucrats supposed to be regulating an industry in the public interest get sweet-talked into going easy – you could start with the Reserve and banking (with Treasury not far behind).

In the natural conflict between the goals of financial stability and effective competition, the Reserve long ago decided we’d worry about competition later.

But the more concentrated we allow our industries to become, the more often the Reserve will have to struggle to control inflation surges, and the harder it will need to bash home-buyers on the head.

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Friday, February 9, 2024

You can (partly) blame cost-of-living crisis on greedy businesses

The nation’s economists and economist-run authorities such as the Reserve Bank have not covered themselves in glory in the present inflationary episode. They’ve shown a lack of intellectual rigor, an unwillingness to re-examine their long-held views, and a lack of compassion for the many ordinary families who, in the Reserve’s zeal to fix inflation the blunt way, have been squeezed till their pips squeak.

There’s nothing new about surges of inflation. Often in the past they’ve been caused by excessive wage growth, where economists have been free with their condemnation of greedy workers. But this one came at a time when wage growth was weak and barely keeping up with prices.

What economists in other countries wondered was whether, this time, excessive growth in profits might be part of the story. Separate research by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, the International Monetary Fund, the Bank for International Settlements, the European Commission, the European Central Bank, the US Federal Reserve and the Bank of England suggested there was some truth to the idea.

But if the Reserve or our Treasury shared that curiosity, there’s been little sign of it. Rather, when the Australia Institute replicated the European Central Bank’s methodology with Australian data and found profit growth did help explain our inflation rate, the Reserve sought to refute it with a dodgy graph, while Treasury dismissed it as “misleading” and “flawed”.

One leading economist who has been on the ball, however, is Professor Allan Fels, a former chair of the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, whose experience of competition and pricing issues goes back to the year before I became a journalist.

In his report this week on price gouging and unfair pricing practices, commissioned by the Australian Council of Trade Unions, he concluded that “business pricing has added significantly to inflation in recent times”.

Fels says his report is “fully independent” of the ACTU, which did not try to influence him. Considering his authority in this area, I have no trouble believing it.

“ ‘Profit push’ or ‘sellers’ inflation’ has occurred against a background of high corporate concentration and is reflected in the surge of corporate profits and the rise in the profit share of gross domestic product,” he finds.

“Claims that the rise in profit share in Australia is explained by mining do not hold up. The profit share excluding mining has risen and [in any case,] energy and other prices associated with mining have been a very significant contributor to Australian inflation,” he says.

Fels says there has been much discussion about inflation and its causes – including monetary policy and fiscal policy, international factors, wages, supply chain disruption and war, but “hardly any discussion that looks at actual prices charged to consumers, the processes by which they are set, the profit margins and their possible contribution to inflation”.

His underlying message is that there are too many industries in Australia which are dominated by just a few huge companies – too many “oligopolies” – which limits competition and gives those companies the ability to influence the prices they can charge.

“Not only are many consumers overcharged continuously, but ‘profit push’ pricing has added significantly to inflation in recent times,” he says, nominating specifically supermarkets, banks, airlines and providers of electricity.

Fels says, “some of Australia’s largest businesses, often [those selling such necessities that customers aren’t much deterred by price rises], are maintaining or increasing margins in response to the global inflationary episode”.

He identifies eight “exploitative business pricing practices” – tricks – that enable the extraction of extra dollars from consumers in a way that wouldn’t be possible in markets that were competitive, properly informed, and that enabled overcharged customers to switch easily from one business to another.

First, “loyalty taxes” set initial prices low and then sharply increase them in later years when customers can’t easily detect, question, or renegotiate them, and where the “transaction costs” of changing to another firm are high. This trick can be found in banking, insurance, electricity and gas.

Second, “loyalty schemes” are often low-cost means of retaining and exploiting consumers by providing them with low-value rewards of dubious benefit.

Third, “drip pricing” occurs when firms advertise only part of a product’s price and reveal other costs as the customer continues through the purchasing process. This trick is spreading in relation to airlines, accommodation, entertainment, pre-paid phone charges, credit cards and other things.

Fourth, “excuse-flation” occurs when general inflation provides camouflage for businesses to raise prices without justification. This has been more prevalent recently. As the inflation rate starts falling, excessive inflation expectations and further cost increases can be built in to prices.

Fifth, “confusion pricing” involves confusing customers with myriad complex price structures and plans, making it difficult to compare prices and so dulling price competition. This is occurring increasingly in mobile phone plans and financial or maintenance service contracts.

Sixth, asymmetric or “rockets and feathers” pricing is a big deal now the rate of inflation is falling. When a firm’s costs rise, prices go up like a rocket; when its costs fall, prices drift down slowly like a feather.

Fels says this trick can be very profitable for businesses. The banks have long been guilty of this stunt, yet I can’t remember a Reserve Bank governor ever calling it out.

Seventh, “algorithmic pricing” is where firms use algorithms to change prices automatically in response to what their competitors are doing. Fels wonders whether this reduces price competition and is analogous to the way now-illegal cartel pricing worked.

Finally, “price discrimination” involves charging different customers different prices for the same product, according to what the firm deduces a particular customer is “willing to pay”. The less competition firms face, the easier it is for them to play this game.

That so few economists and econocrats have been willing to think about these issues doesn’t speak well of their profession’s integrity. If they won’t speak out about businesses’ failings, why should we trust what they do tell us?

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Fifty years ago, I found my dream job – and I’m not done yet

If a genie ever sprang from a bottle and offered me one wish, it would be to have a job as a columnist on the biggest and best newspaper in the country, The Sydney Morning Herald. If he offered me a second wish, it would be to have my columns also published in the country’s other great newspaper, The Age.

For the first seven years after I left school, I worked to achieve my dream of becoming a chartered accountant. Not any old accountant, a chartered accountant. Unfortunately, by the time I achieved that exalted qualification, I’d realised I didn’t enjoy being an accountant and wasn’t particularly good at it.

I had a premature midlife crisis at the age of 24 and, after some casting around, on February 7, 1974, found myself as an over-aged cadet journalist on the Herald.

It took me only a few weeks to realise I’d stumbled into the only job I’d ever want. One I was good at and found greatly interesting and rewarding. I’d dropped a lot of money to become a mere cadet, but that didn’t matter. I was the square peg that had fallen into a square hole.

I wasn’t much good as a reporter, but the old boys who ran the Herald had the wit to steer me towards the feature and column writing I was good at. After three years, and having written many unsigned editorials, I got my first column. A year later, I was made economics editor, and by 1983, I had the three columns a week that I’m still writing, on the same day and in the same section of the Herald, 40 years later.

That’s all you need to know to see why I’ve stayed in my job at the Herald for 50 years, ignoring the usual retirement age when it flashed past 11 years ago. I’ve never been able to think of another paper I’d prefer to work for or another job I’d prefer to have.

Editor of the Herald? I have a lot more fun than he or she does, with much less responsibility.

Doing it my way

Perhaps because I was older and starting a second career, or perhaps because my upbringing in that strange uniformed Protestant sect, the Salvos, had made me a bit of a loner, I decided to join Frank Sinatra and do it my way.

I wouldn’t try to impress my peers, or even the editor, but would write a column that better met what I thought the readers were looking for. Later, I realised this could be my moral compass: Serve the Reader.

Because nature had intended me to be a teacher, I decided that, while all the others were off chasing scoops, I’d concentrate on explaining to the reader what on earth it all meant. I’d try to figure out how the economy worked, and when I’d got something figured, I’d tell all.

Because economics has so much potential to be boring, I’d pull every trick I could to make it simple and readable. I’d write in the first person, in an easy, conversational style. I’d even put myself and my doings in the story.

Because the world gets ever-more complex, I’d try to ensure the young people we hired to write about the economy had some formal education in the topic. Then I’d teach ’em the tricks of the trade. I’ve had the privilege to mentor a couple of dozen of the Herald’s ablest recruits.

An unrecognisable economy

Over 50 years, I’ve written well over 5000 columns, and worked for 16 editors – one of whom lasted for about 24 hours. I’ve covered 50 federal budgets, 19 federal elections, and seen 11 prime ministers and 16 treasurers come and go, starting with Gough Whitlam and Frank Crean, Simon’s dad.

In that time, I’ve seen huge changes in the economy, in politics and economic policy, not to mention – which I will – changes at the Herald. One of the latter is that, these days, newspapers prefer to refer to themselves as “mastheads”, in recognition that far more of our readers do so on our website than on dead trees.

I want to recall some of those changes, so let’s start with the shape of the economy. If a Rip Van Winkle fell asleep in 1974 and woke in 2024, I doubt he’d recognise our economy.

Every economy is changing continuously, partly because our customs and practices change and partly because government economic policies change. But the greatest source of change is advances in technology, and the past 50 years have seen the spread of computers, a revolution in telecommunications and the birth of the internet.

When I was first in the workforce, everyone was paid weekly, in notes and coins stuffed into little brown envelopes. Any money you didn’t want to spend immediately had to be taken to your particular branch of your bank, with your deposit recorded by hand in a little passbook.

City workers would go out in their lunch hours to pay their utility bills in cash at the company’s office. Bills came in the mail, and you’d write a cheque and post it back. In 1974, the banks combined to introduce the first credit card, Bankcard.

You had to beg your bank to lend you less than you really needed to buy a home. Until the Whitlam government’s Trade Practices Act of 1974, it was legal for businesses to collude in setting the prices they charged, or agree to carve up the territory between them, limiting competition.

The prices of bread, eggs and petrol were set by the state government. You bought your electricity from a government monopoly. Annual inflation of consumer prices averaged 10 per cent in the 1970s and 8 per cent in the ’80s.

People stay a lot longer in the education system than they used to, and emerge with higher qualifications. This is related to the much bigger role that women now play in the paid workforce. More girls are staying longer in education, doing better than boys academically, and getting a growing share of the good jobs.

Over the past 50 years, the size of Australia’s workforce has far more than doubled, to well over 14 million, while the industry structure of the economy has changed greatly. In round figures, agriculture’s share of total employment has fallen from 7 per cent to 2 per cent. Despite successive resource booms, mining’s share has risen only from 1 per cent to 2 per cent.

Manufacturing’s share has fallen markedly from 22 per cent to 6 per cent. With construction’s share unchanged at about 9 per cent, that means the services sector’s share has jumped from 61 per cent to 81 per cent – something that has favoured the increased employment of women.

The huge decline in the proportion of workers needed to grow, dig up or manufacture goods is explained by continuous advance in labour-saving technology. But where have the many additional jobs in the services sector come from? They’re mainly in health and aged care, education, and professional, scientific and technical services.

My career at the Herald has seen many major changes in government policies, though most of these presumed “reforms” occurred long ago under the Hawke and Keating governments. First came the decision in December 1983 to allow the Australian dollar to float, then the deregulation of the banks and, later, many other industries.

The removal of the high import duties protecting our manufacturing industries was begun under Bob Hawke, but completed under John Howard. But this does less to explain the declining employment in manufacturing than many imagine. Automation and the rise of China should get more of the blame – or, for consumers, the credit.

The privatisation of government-owned businesses began under Hawke-Keating, but continued under Howard and state governments of both colours. The outsourcing of government-provided services, a much more debatable “reform”, continues to this day.

For many of my early years as a commentator, our centralised wage-fixing system delivered pay rises of the same percentage and on the same day to virtually every worker in the country. People like me wrote unceasingly about the evils of excessive wage rises.

At the time, I thought Keating’s move to wage bargaining at the enterprise level a big improvement. Now, having seen the way employers have used the less regulated system to chisel workers’ wages, I’m less sure about that.

Do you realise that in 1974, all capital gains and employee fringe benefits were untaxed? Keating’s reforms in 1985 changed that. And Howard’s introduction of the goods and services tax in 2000 gave us the same sensible indirect-tax system most other rich countries had long had.

We had spent a quarter of a century trembling at the thought of such a tax since it was first proposed in the Asprey report of 1975. Today, it’s no big deal.

Labor gets the credit for introducing our first universal healthcare system, and compulsory employee superannuation which, more than 30 years later, ensures most couples will live more comfortably in retirement than they would under just the age pension.

Palace revolutions and digital disruption

But now, a remembrance of a topic no other people still working on the Herald can say they lived through at close quarters: the many changes at this august organ.

I’ve hung around long enough to see all the palace revolutions that have progressively turned this 193-year-old paper from being owned by the two branches of the Fairfax family – each led by cousins, Sir Warwick and Sir Vincent – to now making up about a third of the Nine Entertainment media conglomerate.

I wasn’t here long before, at the urging of management, the ageing Sir Warwick was replaced as company chairman by his elder son, James. James was far less interventionist, allowing the editors of the various papers to make their own decisions and leading, I believe, to Fairfax’s Golden Age.

But the retirement of a powerful general manager soon saw the Herald’s new editor-in-chief, David Bowman – who’d done most to advance my career – deposed and replaced by the former managing editor of The Australian Financial Review and The National Times, Vic Carroll.

Urged on by the new chief editorial executive, Max Suich, Carroll set about belatedly dragging the Herald into the modern age. I hate to admit it, but the great transformation of Australia’s broadsheet newspapers was spurred by the advent in 1964 of Rupert Murdoch’s startlingly clean, good-looking and energetic national broadsheet, The Australian, when I was still a schoolboy. Under its great reforming editor Graham Perkin, The Age was the first quality paper to take up the challenge.

When I joined in 1974, and until Carroll began his changes in 1980, the Herald’s failure to move with the times was reflected in its declining circulation. It saw its mission as ensuring news was reported the way it always had been.

Its language was very formal and its reporting largely devoid of explanation, context, interpretation or emotion. I concluded that the chief subeditor saw his job as taking a story and draining all the colour out of it, to make it fit for publication.

Most news stories were anonymous, being “by a staff correspondent”. We were committed to being “a paper of record”, which meant keeping stories short so as to cram in as many as possible. This produced a paper that was black and white in both senses and visually messy. It simply failed to match the competition coming from radio and, particularly, television.

Carroll changed all that. While he was at it, he reformed me – more with kicks than pats on the head. He freed me from my self-imposed duty to ensure my economics fitted with the proprietors’ commitment to endorsing conservative governments before elections.

Since Carroll, my opinion really is my opinion. He was, without doubt, the best of all the editors I’ve worked for.

Not many years later, we were hit by ructions within the Fairfaxes, as Sir Warwick’s other son by a different marriage, Young Warwick, sought to avenge his father and please his mother by borrowing heavily to buy up all the company’s shares, paying far more than they were worth.

His new managers closed our afternoon paper, The Sun, and sold off whatever assets they could, but it was no use and by 1991 the company was in receivership.

The business continued to trade as normal, and remained profitable, but not sufficiently profitable to cover all the money Young Warwick had borrowed to buy it.

Kerry Packer’s plans to buy the business failed to eventuate – thanks to the machinations of some financier called Malcolm Turnbull – and the Canadian media baron Conrad Black ended up with a minority but controlling interest.

Keating wouldn’t allow a foreigner to increase his interest in the company, so Black eventually sold out. Like so many Australian companies, Fairfax’s ownership ended up being shared between a host of superannuation funds and other “institutional investors”, making it a plaything of the stock exchange.

All this, however, was nothing compared with the challenge from the digital revolution. At first, the move from typewriters to screens, and from “hot metal” to digital offset printing was just a nice money-saver. We were able to greatly reduce the number of printers we employed, move our printing plant to the outer suburbs and escape all the “restrictive work practices” – lurks and perks – of the militant printers’ union.

But then we – like every newspaper – discovered that the rise of the internet had taken away most of our advertising revenue. Before the revolution, every big city had a broadsheet newspaper with a virtual monopoly over classified advertising. A monopoly it exploited to the full.

This “river of gold” kept Fairfax profitable, even though most of the money was used to employ more journalists and compete for the best journalists by paying them well.

But when it became obvious that people wanting to sell houses or cars, or fill job vacancies, could do much better by advertising on the net, the river of gold ran dry.

From the beginning, newspapers’ business plan had been strange but simple: use your news to gather an audience, then charge advertisers for access to your audience. To maximise the audience, keep the paper’s cover price nominal.

At first, we – and other newspapers around the world – just tried to move the same formula online. We put all our editorial content online and freely available, hoping to attract enough digital advertising. We tried using “clickbait” to get as many people momentarily clicking on our site as we could.

It didn’t work. Eventually, we realised that almost all the digital advertising revenue was being scooped up by Google and Facebook. Following the lead of The New York Times, we moved to putting much of our online content behind a paywall and charging readers a subscription for access to it.

Since the internet remains replete with free news, it’s a business model that works only if your news is different and better than the free stuff.

I was never confident a company as old as Fairfax could bring itself to make the radical changes necessary to survive in the strange new world of digital news. Without the classifieds’ river of gold, we had to lose a lot of journalists, cut a lot of costs and change a lot of practices.

I give much credit to former Fairfax chief executive Greg Hywood – a former editor-in-chief of the Herald, who I’ve known since we worked in adjoining offices in the Canberra press gallery in 1975 – for ensuring the survival of the Herald and other great mastheads.

Some other chief executive might have secured the company’s survival by ditching all those terrible old newspapers, but Fairfax without its mastheads was of no attraction to a life-long journo like Hywood.

Ably assisted by Antony Catalano, who belatedly established Domain to capture a large chunk of the online property classifieds market, Chris Janz, who devised the mastheads’ rescue plan, and Michael Stevens, whose one goal is to prolong the life of our print editions (and is the man to credit – or blame – for attracting all those Harvey Norman ads), Hywood secured the future of the Fairfax mastheads.

The digital subscription model is working – these days, the meaning of the word “subs” has changed from subeditors to subscriptions – and as we tighten our paywall, it works even better.

At one level, our valuable sources of non-news revenue, Domain, and our joint venture with Nine in the Stan streaming video business, helped ensure the company stayed profitable.

At another level, however, Hywood knew that, without a family with majority control, we were vulnerable to some sharemarket raider keen to buy our side assets and happy to dump our reason for being.

His last act was to find another, bigger company to which he could marry us off, and so protect us from hostile takeover. It needed to be another media company, one that was a good fit with the assets we brought to the marriage, and one that understood the need to preserve the independence and reputation of the classy dame it was acquiring.

Hywood chose well. It’s been a happy, respectful marriage. Our many media competitors have banished the word Fairfax and delight in demeaning us as “the Nine newspapers”.

Those more susceptible to conspiracy theories see us as controlled by daily talking points issued by the chairman of Nine Entertainment, Peter Costello.

Nothing of the sort. I guess I’ll have to retire some day, but I don’t expect unhappiness with our owners to be any part of my reason for hanging up my boots.

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