Monday, July 5, 2021

Our aspirations for a Big Australia need a big trim

Almost all the nation’s business people, economists and politicians believe too much population growth is never enough. But if there’s one thing I hope to be remembered for, it’s that I always subjected this case of group think to critical examination.

I remain to be convinced that a Big Australia would be better either for our material living standards or for our efforts to limit the damage our economic activity is doing to our natural environment – the erosion of the nation’s “natural capital”.

But, in any case, Treasurer Josh Frydenberg’s intergenerational report last week is a useful warning that our aspirations for a Big Australia need a big trim.

The pandemic is an immediate setback to such ambitions, but beyond that is the likelihood that most countries’ population growth is slowing and, in many countries, will eventually begin falling.

One big message from the report is that population growth over the next 40 years is projected to be much slower than earlier thought, with its size now expected to reach 40 million in the first half of the 2060s, about eight years later than the 2015 report projected.

This is explained by the pandemic, which is expected to cause a temporary fall in the birth rate and four years of below-average net overseas migration (foreigners arriving minus locals leaving). Annual net migration is expected actually to fall in the financial year just ended and in the new financial year, then take two years to return to 235,000 in 2024-25, at which level it then stays every year through to 2060-61.

That is, no catch-up is expected for the growth lost because of the pandemic. The assumed annual net intake of 235,000 is based on unchanged existing federal government policy on permanent and temporary migration levels.

The report’s “sensitivity analysis” shows that, were net migration projected to grow in line with the growing population (at a rate of 0.82 per cent a year) rather than stay at a flat 235,000 a year, real gross domestic product per person would be only a fraction higher in 2060-61, the labour force would be 1 million bigger and the old-age dependency ratio would be 2.8 workers per oldie rather than 2.7.

But you have to doubt whether future governments will remain free to just dial up their preferred level of annual immigration the way they have been over the past 40 years.

If there’s one demographic lesson we should have learnt by now, it’s that as families become more prosperous over the generations, they choose to have fewer children. This has become possible because of effective contraception.

Add growing longevity and you see why a declining fertility rate (expected number of births per woman), not just the retirement of the Baby Boomer bulge, has left all the developed economies with an ageing population. And, thanks to its one-child policy, the world’s most populous economy, China, also has a (rapidly) ageing population.

Like all the other rich countries, our fertility rate has long been below the population replacement rate of 2.1 babies per woman. Unlike most of the others, however, we’ve kept our population growing strongly by ever-increasing immigration.

To date we’ve had no trouble attracting all the skilled (and unskilled) workers we need, mainly from poor countries. We’ve even been able to make a lot of them pay full freight for their Australian-quality education before we scooped them up.

But with population ageing and old-age dependency ratios becoming more acute around the rich world, global competition to attract skilled workers from developing countries may become more intense.

On the other side of the equation, the supply side, as the poor countries become more developed, their living standards rise and their fertility rates fall, there may be fewer skilled workers willing to emigrate to the rich countries.

Population growth is already slowing in most developed and developing countries. It’s already falling in Japan and some European countries. It will start falling in China this decade. Our population growth is also likely to slow, and the day may come when – horror of horrors – it starts to fall.

Slower growth in the population means slower growth in the size of the economy, of course. But I can’t see why this should be a worry.

It’s notable that, though the intergenerational report projects a consequent slowing in economic growth over the next 40 years, it expects this to have little effect on economic growth per person and thus on living standards.

Whereas real GDP growth is projected to slow from 3 per cent a year over the past 40 years to 2.6 per cent over the coming 40, annual growth in real GDP per person is projected to slow only marginally from 1.6 per cent to 1.5 per cent.

Even that small slowing seems to be explained not by lower population growth, but by a similar fall in the assumed rate of average annual productivity improvement.

Taken at face value, this is an admission by the report’s authors that faster population growth makes little or no contribution to the improvement of our material living standards. The immigrants may gain by moving to Australia, but the rest of us don’t gain from their coming.

However, the report’s fine print (aka its technical appendix) advises that its projections “do not capture the broader economic, social or environmental effects of migration, such as technology spillovers or congestion”.

But if those effects were thought to be significant, you’d expect the authors to have made the effort to model them. And, of course, the effects are likely to be both beneficial and detrimental.

Looking at the economic effects, the advocates of high immigration always point to the benefit of greater economies of scale, while brushing aside the costs of the increased housing, capital equipment and public infrastructure that a bigger population and workforce must be provided with to ensure the productivity of its labour doesn’t fall.

Indeed, it’s possible our high rate of population growth is a factor contributing to our weak rate of productivity improvement.

Similarly, it’s inconsistent for advocates of high immigration also to be advocates of Smaller Government. When you’re causing congestion by failing to spend enough on the extra public infrastructure needed, including more schools and hospitals – perhaps because you’re trying to please discredited American credit-rating agencies – you shouldn’t be surprised if economic growth is weaker.

The need for governments to spend more on a bigger population is complicated and compounded by the division of responsibilities between federal and state governments. The budgetary costs and benefits of immigration are not spread evenly between federal and state governments.

The feds pick up most of the tax that immigrants pay, while the states pick up most of the cost of the extra infrastructure and services needing to be provided (especially since immigrants are denied access to many federal benefits for the first four years).

This reveals a major distortion in the intergenerational report’s continual claim that higher immigration does wonders to improve the budget. The federal budget, yes. But state budgets, probably the reverse.

Finally, there are the environmental consequences of a bigger population that both the intergenerational report and most business people, economists and politicians refuse to come to grips with.

Jenny Goldie, president of Sustainable Population Australia, reminds us that the intergenerational report “fails to take into account the environmental costs of urban encroachment on natural bushland, threatening iconic species such as the koala [and biodiversity more generally], and adding to carbon emissions.

“It fails to address the social costs of crowding, housing unaffordability and longer waiting times that generally accompany population growth,” she concludes.