Cost-of-living crisis? Why only some of us are feeling the pinch

If you believe the opinion polls, we’re all groaning under the weight of the cost-of-living crisis. And Treasurer Jim Chalmers confirms we’ve all been “under the pump”. But it’s not that simple. Some of us are doing it a lot tougher than others. And some of us are actually ahead on the deal.

In any case, where did the living-cost crisis come from? That bit’s simple. The economy’s been on a rollercoaster for the past four and a half years. COVID and the lockdowns may seem a distant memory, but almost everything that’s happened in the economy since the end of 2019 has been the direct or indirect consequence of the pandemic.

The surge in consumer prices that began in early 2022 stemmed from a combination of temporary disruptions to supply caused by the pandemic, and excess demand for goods and services as people spent the money they’d earned but couldn’t spend during the lockdowns.

The tax cuts that began this month had been planned for six years, but Chalmers changed their intended shape radically to help people most affected by the cost of living. They mean that, by the end of this year, overall living standards should be just a little up on where they were five years ago.

Just as the media focus on bad news more than good news, so you and I focus more on what’s been happening to the cost of living than what’s been happening to our after-tax income. But it’s the difference between the two – our standard of living – that matters most.

Two economists at the Australian National University’s Centre for Social Policy Research, Associate Professor Ben Phillips and Professor Matthew Gray, have been crunching the numbers, and their results may surprise you.

They’ve examined the change in our standard of living since the end of 2019, and included a forecast up to the end of this year, to take account of the latest tax cuts and changes in the May budget.

Lumping all households together, they find that we did quite well in 2020 and 2021 as the Reserve Bank cut interest rates and governments spent billions on such things as the JobKeeper scheme and temporary doubling of JobSeeker unemployment benefits. But then living standards fell sharply in 2022 as consumer prices took off and housing costs rose. Living standards fell a little further last year, taking them to 0.6 per cent lower than they were before COVID arrived.

The authors estimate that, this year, the tax cuts and continuing pay rises will lift living standards to a princely 1.6 per cent above what they were in December 2019.

But those national averages conceal much variation. When the authors ranked all households by their disposable income, then divided them into five “quintiles”, the poorest 20 per cent are expected to end the five years with their living standard 3.5 per cent higher.

Huh? They did well partly because their pensions and benefits are indexed to inflation.

At the same time, the top 20 per cent of households are expected to be 2.7 per cent ahead. Why? Partly because they did well on their investments.

So it’s the middle 60 per cent of households that have been hit the hardest by the cost of living. The second lowest 20 per cent barely broke even, while the middle and upper-middle quintiles suffered a fall in their living standards.

But now we get to the pointy bit. Why did the middle do so much worse than the rest? Because that’s where you find most of the people with mortgages. Turns out all those households with mortgages are expected to see their living standards fall by 5.6 per cent over the five years to December 2024.

What about renters? Their living standards should rise by 2.9 per cent over the period. Huh? How could that be? It’s true that shortages of rental accommodation have caused rents to rise hugely this year and last. But much of that can be seen as catch-up for the lockdown-caused falls in rents in 2020 and 2021, and the small increases in 2022.

If you’re sitting down, I’ll tell you that the living standards of people who own their homes outright are expected to rise by … 8.5 per cent.

But here’s an even bigger shock: if you divide all the households by their main source of income, those in the “other” category – that is, not reliant on either wages or pensions – should see their standard of living rise by what the authors call “an astounding 15.8 per cent”.

Penny dropped yet? Yes, we’re talking about the group that always has its hand out for a handout to thank it for being too well-off to get the age pension: the self-described, so-called self-funded retirees.

But while you’re feeling sorry for all those poor souls (whose company I’ll be joining one day), spare a kick for the economists who, several decades ago, had the bright idea of using only interest rates to control inflation. They must have had a fairness bypass.

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OECD’s message to our inflation warriors: calm down, she’ll be right

Last week a bunch of international public servants in Paris launched a rocket that landed in Sydney’s Martin Place, near the Reserve Bank’s head office and the centre of our financial markets. It carried a message we should already know. Australia has a big problem with real wages: they’re too low. In which case, why are you guys so anxious about continuing high inflation?

The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development’s annual Employment Outlook says Australia’s real wages in May this year are still 4.8 per cent lower than they were in December 2019, just before the pandemic.

This is one of the largest drops among OECD countries. It compares with real falls of 2 per cent in Germany and Japan, and 0.8 per cent in the United States. Real wages have risen by 2.4 per cent in Canada and 3.1 per cent in Britain.

The organisation observes that, “as real wages are [now] recovering some of the lost ground, profits are beginning to buffer some of the increase in labour costs. In many countries, there is room for profits to absorb further wage increases, especially as there are no signs of a price-wage spiral”.

Just so. But this isn’t something you’re allowed to say out loud in Martin Place. When the Australia Institute copied various overseas authorities in calculating the contribution that rising profits had made to our rising prices, it was dismissed by the Reserve Bank and the financial press.

Apparently, it’s OK for the Reserve to say it must increase interest rates because demand is growing faster than supply and adding to inflation, but it’s not OK to say that businesses have used the opportunity to raise their prices and this has increased their profits.

No, in the Reserve’s eyes, the problem with prices soaring way above its inflation target has never been greedy bosses, but always the risk of greedy workers using their industrial muscle to prevent their real wages from falling and thus causing a price-wage spiral that perpetuates high inflation.

It was a worry that anyone who knew anything about the changed power balance between employers and workers and their unions – anyone who wasn’t still living in the 1970s – could never have entertained.

For many years, the Reserve Bank benefited greatly from having a senior union official appointed to its board along with the many business people. But John Howard soon put a stop to that.

Since then, the Reserve has had to fall back on the primitive understanding of how labour markets work that you gain from a degree in neoclassical economics. Fortunately, since last year the board has included Iain Ross, former president of the Fair Work Commission.

The Reserve’s great sense of urgency in getting the inflation rate back down since it began raising interest rates in May 2022 has been driven by two worries about wages. First, when excessive monetary and budgetary stimulus caused the post-lockdown economy to boom while our borders were closed to imported labour, it worried that shortages of skilled and even unskilled labour would cause wages to leap as employers sought to bid workers away from other firms.

Although job vacancies more than doubled, reaching a peak in May 2022, annual wage growth had risen no higher than 4.2 per cent in December last year, even though consumer price inflation had peaked at 7.8 per cent a year earlier.

So, though no one’s bothered to mention it, our first period of acute labour shortages in decades hardly caused a ripple. It’s probably fair to say, however, that had the shortages not occurred, wages would have fallen even further behind prices than they did.

The Reserve’s second reason for feeling a sense of urgency in getting inflation back down to the target range is its fear that, should we leave it too long, inflation expectations may rise, causing actual inflation to move to a permanently higher level.

Indeed, the signs that our return to target will be slow have been used by the Reserve’s urgers in the financial markets to call for another rate rise or two. Apparently, every week’s delay in getting inflation down could see inflation expectations jump.

But this is mere pop psychology. Even if the nation’s workers and unions were to expect that inflation will stay high, they lack the industrial muscle to raise wage rates accordingly. If you didn’t already know that, our outsized fall in real wages should be all the proof you need.

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Interest rate speculators should get back in their box

There’s nothing the financial markets and the media enjoy more than speculating about the future of interest rates. And with last week’s news that consumer prices rose by 4 per cent over the year to May, they’re having a field day.

Trouble is, the two sides of the peanut gallery tend to egg each other on. They have similar ulterior motives: the money market players lay bets on what will happen, while the media can’t resist a good scare story – even one that turns out to have scared their customers unnecessarily, thus eroding their credibility.

But the more the two sides work themselves up, the greater the risk they create such strong expectations of a rate rise that the Reserve Bank fears it will lose credibility as an inflation fighter unless it acts on those expectations.

Fortunately, the Reserve’s newly imported deputy governor, Andrew Hauser, has put the speculators back in their box with his statement that “it would be a bad mistake to set policy on the basis of one number, and we don’t intend to do that”.

He added that there was “a lot to reflect on” before the Reserve board next meets to decide interest rates early next month. Just so. So, let’s move from idle speculation to reflection.

For a start, we should reflect on the wisdom of the relatively recent decision to supplement the quarterly figures for the consumer price index with monthly figures.

This has proved an expensive disaster, having added at least as much “noise” as “signal” to the public debate about what’s happening to inflation. Why? Because many of the prices the index includes aren’t actually measured monthly.

Many are measured quarterly, and some only annually. In consequence, the monthly results can be quite misleading. Do you realise that, at a time when we’re supposedly so worried that prices are rising so strongly, every so often the monthly figures tell us prices overall have fallen during the month?

In an ideal world, the people managing the macroeconomy need as much statistical information as possible, as frequently as possible. But in the hugely imperfect world we live in, paying good taxpayers’ money to produce such dodgy numbers just encourages the speculators to run around fearing the sky is falling.

The Reserve has made it clear it’s only the less-unreliable quarterly figures it takes seriously but, as last week reminded us, that hasn’t stopped the people who make their living from speculation.

The next thing we need to reflect on is that our one great benefit from the pandemic – our accidental return to full employment after 50 years wandering in the wilderness – has changed the way our economy works.

I think what’s worrying a lot of the people urging further increases in interest rates is that, as yet, they’re not seeing the amount of blood on the street they’re used to seeing. Why is total employment still increasing? Why isn’t unemployment shooting up?

One part of the answer is that net overseas migration is still being affected by the post-pandemic reopening of our borders – especially as it affects overseas students – which means our population has been growing a lot faster than has been usual after more than a year of economic slowdown.

But the other reason the labour market remains relatively strong is our return to full employment and, in particular, the now-passed period of “over-full employment” – with job vacancies far exceeding the number of unemployed workers.

With the shortage of skilled workers still so fresh in their mind, it should be no surprise that employers aren’t rushing to lay off workers the way they did in earlier downturns. As we saw during the global financial crisis of 2008-09, they prefer to reduce hours rather than bodies.

It’s the changing shares of full-time and part-time workers – and thus the rising rate of underemployment – that become the better indicators of labour market slack in a fully employed economy.

The other thing to remember is the Albanese government’s resolve not to let the ups and downs of the business cycle stop us from staying close to the full employment all economists profess to accept as the goal macroeconomic management.

This resolve is reflected in the Reserve Bank review committee’s recommendation that the goal of full employment be given equal status with price stability, which the Reserve professes to have accepted.

This doesn’t mean the business cycle has been abolished, nor that the rate of unemployment must never be allowed to rise during a period in which we’re seeking to regain control over inflation.

What it does mean is that we can’t return to the many decades where the commitment to full employment was merely nominal, and central banks and their urgers found it easier to meet their inflation targets by running the economy with permanently high unemployment.

The financial markets may persist in their view that high inflation matters and high unemployment doesn’t, but that shouldn’t leave them surprised and dissatisfied with a central bank that’s not whacking up interest rates with the gay abandon they’ve seen in previous episodes.

But there’s one further issue to reflect on. It’s former Reserve Bank governor Dr Philip Lowe’s prediction in late 2022 that we’d be seeing “developments that are likely to create more variability in inflation than we have become used to”. As someone put it: shock after shock after stock.

The point is, it’s all very well for people to say we should keep raising interest rates until the inflation rate is down to 2 per cent or so, but what if price rises are being caused by problems on the supply (production) side of the economy, not by excessive demand?

High interest rates have already demonstrated their ability to end excessive demand, as quarter after quarter of weak consumer spending, and a collapse in the rate of household saving, bear witness. But if high prices are coming from factors other than excess demand, there’s nothing an increase in interest rates can do to fix the problem.

What surprises me is how little attention market economists have been paying to what’s causing the seeming end to the inflation rate’s fall to the target range.

Look at the big price increases that have contributed most to the 4 per cent rise over the year to May – in rents, newly built homes, petrol, insurance, alcohol and tobacco – and what you don’t see is booming demand.

Right now, all we can do to push inflation down is attempt to hide the effect of supply-side problems on the price index by putting the economy into such a deep recession that other prices are actually falling.

This was never a sensible idea, and it’s now ruled out by the government and the Reserve’s commitment never to stray too far from full employment.

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It's slowing the spin doctors' spin that keeps me busy

Do you remember former prime minister John Howard’s ringing declaration that “we will decide who comes to this country and the circumstances in which they come”? It played a big part in helping him win the 2001 federal election. But it’s only true in part.

The job of economic commentators like me is supposed to be telling people about what’s happening in the economy and adding to readers’ understanding of how the economy works.

But the more our politicians rely on spin doctors to manipulate the media and give voters a version of the truth designed always to portray the boss in the most favourable light, the more time I have to spend making sure our readers aren’t being misled by some pollie’s silken words.

These days, I even have to make sure our readers aren’t being led astray by the economics profession. For the first time in many years, I’ve found myself explaining to critical academic economists that I’m a member of the journos’ union, not the economists’ union.

Like many professions, economists are hugely defensive. And they like to imagine my job is to help defend the profession against its many critics. Sorry, I’m one of the critics.

My job is to advise this masthead’s readers on how much of what economists say they should believe, and how much they should question.

It’s not that economists are deliberately misleading, more that they like to skirt around the parts of their belief system that ordinary people find hard to swallow.

And then there’s the increasing tendency for news outlets to pick sides between the two big parties, and adjust their reporting accordingly. My job is to live up this masthead’s motto: Independent. Always.

So, back to Howard’s heroic pronouncement. It’s certainly true that “we” – the federal government – decide the circumstances in which people may come to Australia. If you turn up without a visa, you’ll be turned away no matter how desperate your circumstances. If you come by boat, your chances of being let in are low.

But if you come by plane, with a visa that says you’ll be studying something at some dodgy private college when, in truth, you’re just after a job in a rich country, in you come. If we’ve known about this dodge, it’s only in the past few weeks that we’ve decided to stop it.

No, the problem is, if you take Howard’s defiant statement to mean that we control how many people come to this country, then that’s not true. We decide the kinds of people we’ll accept, but not how many.

There are no caps because, for many years, both parties have believed in taking as many suitable immigrants as possible. It’s just because the post-COVID surge in immigration – particularly overseas students – has coincided with the coming federal election that the pollies are suddenly talking about limiting student visas.

But remember, the politicians have form. Knowing many voters have reservations about immigration, they talk tough on immigration during election campaigns, but go soft once our attention has moved on, and it’s all got too hard.

It’s a similar thing with Anthony Albanese’s Future Made in Australia plan. Polling shows it’s been hugely popular with voters. But that’s because they’ve been misled by a clever slogan. It was designed to imply a return to the days when we tried to make for ourselves all the manufactured goods we needed.

But, as I’ve written, deep in last month’s budget papers was the news that we’d be doing a bit of that, but not much. It’s just a great slogan.

On another matter, have you noticed Treasurer Jim Chalmers’ dissembling on how he feels our pain from the cost-of-living crisis, which is why he’s trying so hard to get inflation down?

What he doesn’t want us thinking about is that, at this stage, most of the pain people are feeling is coming not from higher prices, but from the Reserve Bank’s 4.25 percentage-point increase in interest rates.

Get it? The pain’s coming from the cure, not the disease. The rise in interest rates has been brought about by the independent central bank, not the elected government, of course. But when Chalmers boasts about achieving two successive years of budget surplus, he’s hoping you won’t realise that those surpluses are adding to the pain households are suffering, particularly from the increase in bracket creep.

And, while I’m at it, many people object to businesses raising their prices simply because they can, not because their costs have increased. This they refer to disapprovingly as “gouging”.

But few economists would use that word. Why not? Because they believe it’s right and proper for businesses to charge as much as they can get away with.

Why? Because they think it’s part of the way that market forces automatically correct a situation where the demand for some item exceeds its supply. In textbooks, it’s called “rationing by price”.

Rather than the seller allowing themselves to run out of an item, they sell what’s left to the highest bidders. What could be better than that?

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No one's sure what's happening in the economy

Treasury secretary Dr Steven Kennedy let something slip when he addressed a meeting of business economists last week. He said it was too early to say if the economy was back in a more normal period, “perhaps because no one is quite sure what normal is any more”.

This was especially because “unusual economic outcomes are persisting,” he added.

Actually, anyone in his audience could have said the same thing – but they didn’t, perhaps because they lacked the authority of the “secretary to the Treasury”.

No, standard practice among business economists and others in the money market is to make all predictions with an air of great certainty. Forgive my cynicism, but this may be because their certain opinion changes so often.

Often, it changes because something unexpected has happened in the US economy. Many people working in our money market save themselves research and thinking time by assuming our economy is just a delayed echo of whatever’s happening in America.

If Wall Street has decided that America’s return to a low rate of inflation has been delayed by prices becoming “sticky”, rest assured it won’t be long before our prices are judged to have become sticky as well.

But predicting the next move in either economy has become harder than we’re used to. Kennedy noted in his speech that, in recent years, the global economy, including us, had been buffeted by shared shocks, such as a global pandemic, disruptions to the supply of various goods, and war.

One factor I’d add to that list is the increasing incidence of prices being disrupted by the effects of climate change, particularly extreme weather events, but also our belated realisation that building so many houses on the flood plain of rivers wasn’t such a smart idea.

All these many “shocks” to the economy have knocked it from pillar to post, and stopped it behaving as predictably as it used to. But, as we’ll see, not all the shocks have been adverse.

Right now, the change everyone’s trying to predict is the Reserve Bank’s next move in its official interest rate, which most people hope will be downward.

Normally, that would happen just as soon as the Reserve became confident the inflation rate was on its way down into the 2 to 3 per cent target range. And normally, we could be confident the first downward move would be followed by many more.

But since, like Kennedy, the Reserve is not quite sure what normal is, and Reserve governor Michele Bullock says she expects the return to target to be “bumpy”, it may delay cutting rates until inflation is actually in the target zone.

If so, and remembering that monetary policy, that is, interest rates, affects the economy with a “long and variable lag”, the Reserve will be running the risk that it ends up hitting the economy too hard, and causing a “hard landing” aka a recession, in which the rate of unemployment jumps by a lot more than 1 percentage point.

Kennedy was at pains to point out that the rise in the official interest rate of 4.25 percentage points over 18 months is the “sharpest tightening” of the interest-rate screws since inflation targeting was introduced in the early 1990s.

He also reminded us how much help the Reserve’s had from the Albanese government’s fiscal policy, which has been “tightened at a record pace”. Measured as a proportion of gross domestic product, the budget balance has improved by about 7 percentage points since the pandemic trough. Add the states’ budgets and that becomes 7.5 percentage points.

That’s a part of the story those in the money market are inclined to underrate, if not forget entirely. Kennedy reminded them that, since 2021, our combined federal and state budget balance has improved by more than 5 percentage points of GDP. This compares with the advanced economies’ improvement of only about 1.5 percentage points.

So, has our double, fiscal as well as monetary, tightening had much effect in slowing the growth of demand for goods and services and so reducing inflationary pressure?

Well, Kennedy noted that, over the year to December, households’ consumption spending was essentially flat. And consumer spending per person actually fell by more than 2 per cent.

When you remember that consumer spending accounts for more than half total economic activity, this tells us we’ve had huge success in killing off inflationary pressure. And this week, when we see the national accounts for the March quarter, they’re likely to confirm another quarter of very weak demand.

So, everything’s going as we need it to? Well, no, not quite.

Last week we learnt that, according to the new monthly measure of consumer prices, the annual inflation rate has risen a fraction from 3.4 to 3.6 per cent over the four months to April.

“Oh no. What did I tell you? The inflation rate’s stopped falling because prices are “sticky”. It’s not working. Maybe we need to raise interest rates further. Certainly, we must keep them high for months and months yet, just to be certain sure inflation pressure’s abating.”

Well, maybe, but I doubt it. My guess is that a big reason money market-types are so twitchy about the likely success of our efforts to get inflation back under control is the lack of blood on the streets that we’re used to seeing at times like this.

Why isn’t employment falling? Why isn’t unemployment shooting up? Why are we only just now starting to see news of workers being laid off at this place and that?

It’s true. The rate of unemployment got down to 3.5 per cent and, so far, has risen only to 4.1 per cent. Where’s all the blood? Surely, it means we haven’t tightened hard enough and must keep the pain on for much longer?

But get this. What I suspect is secretly worrying the money market-types, is something Kennedy is pleased and proud about.

“One of the achievements of recent years has been sustained low rates of unemployment,” he said last week. “The unemployment rate has averaged 3.7 per cent over the past two years, compared with 5.5 per cent over the five years prior to the pandemic.”

Our employment growth has been stronger than any major advanced economy over the past two years, he said. Employment has grown, even after accounting for population growth.

And we’ve seen significant improvements for those who typically find it harder to find a job. Youth unemployment is 2.6 percentage points lower than it was immediately before the pandemic.

So, what I suspect the money market’s tough guys see as a sign that we haven’t yet experienced enough pain, the boss of Treasury sees as a respect in which all the shocks that have buffeted us in recent times have left us with an economy that now works better than it used to.

And Kennedy has a message for the Reserve Bank and all its urgers in the money market.

“It is important to lock in as many of the labour market gains as we can from recent years. This involves macroeconomic policy aiming to keep employment near its maximum sustainable level consistent with low and stable inflation,” he said.

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INFLATION, TAX & THE COST OF LIVING

May 2024

The economy has been going through huge ups and downs since COVID arrived in early 2020. Since most of you weren’t taking a great deal of notice of the economy that long ago, let me give you a quick summary. To slow the spread of the virus while a vaccine was being developed, governments locked the economy down, getting as many people as possible to work from home, closing schools and many shops, and telling people to stay in their homes as much as possible. Australia’s borders were closed to people coming and going, though many overseas students were encouraged to return to their home countries. The Australian states closed their borders to interstate travel.

This hugely reduced economic activity, causing an immediate recession and sending unemployment shooting up. But to ensure this didn’t cause lasting damage to the economy, the Reserve Bank cut the official interest rate to almost zero and the federal government spent a fortune on JobKeeper payments and many other things. As well, the state governments spent up big.

This worked like a charm. As soon as the lockdowns ended, the economy rebounded. Once people were allowed out of their homes, they really caught up with their spending. The economy boomed, with employment growing and unemployment falling like a stone. The boom, coming before our borders had been reopened to immigrants, caused the rate of unemployment to fall to 3.5 per cent, its lowest in almost 50 years. With job vacancies far exceeding unemployment, the economy had returned to full employment for the first time in five decades. Everything seemed wonderful, until we – like the other advanced economies – noticed prices shooting up.

The return of inflation

Until then, and like all the advanced economies, Australia had enjoyed years of low inflation, with the rate of price increases staying in the RBA’s target range of 2 to 3 pc on average since the mid-1990s. In the years before the pandemic, the RBA even had trouble getting inflation up to the bottom of the target range. But from early in 2022, prices started rising rapidly and, by the end of 2022, inflation reached a peak of 7.8 per cent. Similar things were happening in the other advanced economies. What caused this sudden surge in inflation, the worse we had seen for 30 years?

Two quite separate developments. The first factor was us being hit by global supply-side price shocks arising from disruptions caused by the pandemic. When people were locked up in their homes, they couldn’t get out and buy services such as restaurant meals, go to shows and sporting matches, or travel. But they could use the internet to buy things to improve their homes, new appliances or even new cars. So, while spending on services collapsed, spending on goods took off.  This sudden surge in the purchase of goods led to shortages – including a shortage of computer chips - and higher prices. Because, these days, all the rich countries import many manufactures from places such as China, this surge in demand for goods led to shortages of ships and shipping containers. So the pandemic led to temporary supply shortages, which pushed up prices.  As well, Russia’s attack on Ukraine caused a big increase in oil and gas prices.

But the second factor, adding to these problems on the supply – or production – side of the economy, was a strong surge in the demand for goods and services. Where did this come from? From all the economic stimulus the managers of the macro economy had applied during the lockdowns to hold the economy together. The official cash rate was already down to 0.75 per cent, but the RBA cut it almost to zero, 0.1 per cent. It also used unconventional measures – “quantitative easing”, or the buying of second-hand government bonds – to lower medium-term interest rates. As well, from a virtually balanced budget in the financial year to June 2019, the government’s hugely increased spending caused annual deficits of $85 billion (4.3 pc of GDP), $134 billion (6.4 pc of GDP) and, in 2021-22, $32 billion (1.4 pc). The state governments greatly increased their spending also.

With the wisdom of hindsight, it’s clear the economic managers provided a lot more monetary and fiscal stimulus than turned out to be needed. As a result, this excess demand for goods and services outstripped our businesses’ ability to increase their production of goods and services, thus causing prices to rise. So the surge in prices in 2022 had two quite different causes. The supply-side problems were beyond our control, but would sort themselves out in time. The excessive demand, however, was caused by our own miscalculations and so required the economic managers to move the two instruments for managing the strength of demand – monetary policy and fiscal policy – from a stimulatory setting to a restrictive setting.

The policy response to high inflation

The RBA responded to the worsening inflation in May 2022, just before the federal election in which the Morrison Coalition government was replaced by the Albanese Labor government. The RBA began increasing the official cash rate and, by November 2023, had raise it 13 times, from 0.1 pc to 4.35 pc. Note that, although 4.35 pc is not high by the standards of earlier decades, this was the biggest and fastest increase in rates ever, meaning it had a particularly sharp effect on those households with big home loans. There’s no doubt the present “stance” of monetary policy is very restrictive.

The surge in tax collections

And while all this was happening to monetary policy, the budget’s “automatic stabilisers” were tightening fiscal policy. Since the change of government in May 2022, the boom in the economy and the return to full employment caused income tax collections to grow strongly. (As well, the world prices of iron ore and other export commodities have stayed much higher than Treasury was expecting, causing mining companies to pay more company tax than expected.)

When more people get jobs, they go from being on JobSeeker to paying income tax. When strong demand for labour allows those who want to to move from part-time to full-time work, they pay more income tax. And when higher inflation causes people to get bigger pay rises, this increases their average rate of income tax, often by pushing them into a higher tax bracket. What people call “bracket creep”, economists call “fiscal drag”. It’s one of the budget’s main built-in, “automatic stabilisers” which, without any explicit decision by the government, act automatically to take a bigger tax bite out of people’s pay rises, so leaving them less to spend and helping to slow demand.

The incoming Labor Treasurer Jim Chalmers’ main part in this has been to spend as little of this revenue windfall as possible, allowing almost all of it to flow through to the budget’s bottom line. So, from a deficit of $32 billion in the year to June 2022, the budget flipped to a surplus of $22 billion in the year to June 2023. That’s a turnaround of $54 billion, equivalent to 2.3 pc of GDP. The “stance” of fiscal policy switched from expansionary to contractionary, adding to the downward pressure on demand coming from monetary policy. And we know from the new budget that fiscal policy stayed contractionary in the financial year just ending, 2023-24, with another surplus of $9 billion expected.

The price mechanism and “gouging”

Before I move on to the question of the cost of living, I must tell you about a big difference between the thinking of economists and the thinking of normal people. Economists believe that the best way to allocate resources in an economy is via the use of markets. They believe that the forces of supply and demand in a particular market interact to set the price of the particular good or service. And they believe that, when something happens to disrupt the market, the “price mechanism” works to bring demand and supply back together, and re-establish “equilibrium”. If something happens that causes the demand for a product to exceed its supply, sellers are able to increase the price they are charging. This price increase sends different messages to the buyers than to the sellers. The message to buyers is: don’t use any more of this product than you have to, and see if you can find cheaper substitutes for it. The message to sellers is: producing this product has become more profitable, so make more of it. So, putting the two sides together, the “price mechanism” works to reduce demand and increase supply, thus causing the price to fall back to pretty where it was before the disruption.

I hope you know all that. The point is that when businesses respond to excess demand for their product by using the opportunity to raise their prices, economists regard this as the completely normal way markets work to restore equilibrium. It’s thus a good thing. But consumers see it very differently. They often object to businesses raising their prices even though their costs haven’t increased. They criticise it as “gouging” the customers. (My opinion? I think markets don’t always work as well as economic theory assumes they do.)

The cost of living

Whereas economists focus on inflation and ensuring prices don’t rise too rapidly, and worry about wages rises in response to the higher prices helping to keep inflation high, ordinary people worry about the rising “cost of living”. They focus on how fast prices are rising – particularly the prices they see in the supermarket - but tend not to notice that what matters most to them is whether their wage or other income is keeping up with prices. And many may not notice that they suffer when their wage rises cause their average rate of income tax to rise, leaving them less money to spend.

Voters have had a lot to complain about in the past two years or so. Consumer prices have rising at a much faster rate than usual. As well, until recent months their wages haven’t kept up with the rise in prices. And the government has been taking a bigger tax bite out of their wages.

But what makes it worse is that the standard way central banks and governments stop the cost of living rising so fast is to make it worse to make it better. When prices are rising because households’ demand for goods and services is rising faster than the economy’s ability to supply them, the standard response by the economic managers is to squeeze households’ budgets so they can’t spend as much. When this causes demand for their products to slow, businesses aren’t able to raise their prices as much. The main way the RBA squeezes households is by raising the interest rates they pay, particularly on their mortgages. And this time, for different reasons, rents have been rising rapidly.

All this presents a problem for our politicians. The voters are crying out for them to do something to fix the cost-of-living crisis. But the only way the authorities can achieve a lasting improvement in the rate at which prices are rising is to keep the pain on for a while yet. This is why Mr Chalmers is doing fairly minor things like giving every household a $300 electricity rebate. What will do much more to ease some of the pain is the rejig of the long-planned stage 3 tax cuts. Those tax cuts are the main reason the budget is now expected to swing from a surplus of $9 billion in the year just ending, to a deficit of $28 billion in the new financial year. The budget’s forecasts say this move to expansionary fiscal policy will not stop inflation returning to the target range in the coming year and will ensure we avoid recession and achieve a “soft landing”, with the unemployment rate rising no higher than 4.5 pc. Let’s hope this is what happens.

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Treasury tells all: how the housing market is so stuffed up

Would you believe that our ever-rising house prices are a sign there’s something badly wrong with our housing market? Would you believe our housing arrangements are worse than in the other rich countries?

Well, I would when that’s what Treasury is admitting in the annual sermon it tacks onto the budget papers. This year it’s about meeting our housing “challenge”.

In a well-functioning economy, its industries can respond to the increase in demand for their good or service by increasing their supply without much delay. Of course, it takes a lot longer to build a new house or apartment than it does to churn out more ice-creams or haircuts.

But, even so, our housing industry has been too slow to respond to the increased demand for housing. This comes from our rising population which, thanks to continuing high levels of immigration, has grown faster than most of the other rich countries.

Figures from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, a group of mainly advanced economies, show that our number of dwellings per 1000 people increased only from 403 to 420 between 2011 and 2022. This compared poorly with most other countries.

In 2011, our level of housing supply was just 92 per cent of the OECD average. And by 2022 it had fallen to 90 per cent. This was behind countries such as Canada, the United States and England.

Our completions of new private dwellings reached a peak of more than 200,000 a year in 2018-19 but have since fallen to about 160,000 a year. This has left us with an acute shortage of properties available to buy or rent.

Nationwide, the number of homes being offered for sale has fallen since 2015, while the number offered for rent has been falling since early 2020.

Speaking of renting, Treasury says the rental market is considered to be in balance – meaning renters have little trouble finding a place and landlords have little trouble finding a tenant – when the vacancy rate is about 3 per cent. In cities such as Sydney and Melbourne it’s now down to about 0.5 per cent. Ouch.

Not surprisingly, when demand grows faster than supply can keep up with, prices rise. The rise in the cost of newly built homes, and the cost of renting, have contributed significantly to the general cost-of-living crisis.

So, why has our housing industry become so slow to respond to increased demand? Treasury says the causes are “multifaceted, complex and affect all stages of the housing construction process, including all levels of government and industry”.

One way to improve the market’s response to greater demand is to accelerate the construction process. But Treasury says that completion times for apartments, townhouses and detached houses actually worsened by 39 per cent, 34 per cent and 42 per cent respectively over the 10 years to June 2023.

Calculations (or, if you want to sound more scientific, “modelling”) by a federal government agency says that, over the next six years, the nation’s existing unmet demand will never be satisfied unless completion times are speeded up. In six years’ time, we’ll still have a backlog of about 39,000 dwellings.

Treasury says the expectation that churning out homes faster will help to lower house prices is supported by empirical research. One study found that those OECD countries that built more housing over the 15 years to 2015 experienced lower real growth in house prices.

Another study showed that adding an extra 50,000 homes a year for a decade could reduce house prices by up to 20 per cent.

So, what can be done to increase the housing industry’s annual output? Treasury says planning and zoning restrictions can limit the speed at which land is made available.

Delays in approving development applications by local councils can be excessive. I think councils and government departments are monopolists and, like all monopolists, they take advantage of the lack of competition.

Private sector monopolists whack up their prices and don’t worry about the quality of the service they provide. Public monopolists make you jump through hoops that aren’t strictly necessary, and they fix your problem in their own good time.

I wonder whether, over all these years, those outfits have ever had much pressure on them to lift their game. If that changed, I’m sure we could get more homes built per year.

Treasury says average times for the approval of development applications vary by state, with Victoria and NSW experiencing the longest waiting times early this month of 144 and 114 days, respectively.

It shouldn’t surprise you that Treasury wants housing to be delivered in well-located areas where the demand is greatest.

Dense development in the “missing middle” of major cities, where households can reside closer to jobs in areas with higher quality amenities and infrastructure, has been limited by planning and zoning restrictions and slow release of infill land, Treasury says.

Global supply constraints and price shocks on imported building materials associated with the pandemic have added to the cost of construction, driving up the price of newly built homes. Although prices aren’t rising as fast as they were, they haven’t fallen back.

Shortages of building labour have also increased the prices of newly built homes and slowed the pace of construction. The growth in non-dwelling construction activity has drawn labour away from home building. The productivity of labour in construction has not improved since the early 2000s.

The industry blames these shortages on the drop-off in rates of skilled migration during the pandemic. But I wonder if the deeper problem is that the former ready availability of imported labour tempted the industry to save money by failing to train as many apprentices as they should have.

So, what’s the Albanese government doing about this mess? It’s finally grasped the nettle and is spending big – $32 billion, including $6 billion in this month’s budget – to “address historical underinvest in the housing system” and build 1.2 million new, well-located homes. We’ll see how they go.

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How the budget was hijacked by a $300 cherry on the top

Talk about small things amusing small minds. It looked like a textbook-perfect exercise in budget media management by Anthony Albanese’s spin doctors. Until it blew up in the boss’s face. Trouble is, it wasn’t just the tabloid minds that got side-tracked. So did the supposed financial experts.

Budget nights are highly stage-managed affairs, as the spinners ensure all the mainstream media are focused on the bit the boss has decided will get the budget a favourable initial reception.

You pre-announce – or “drop” to a compliant journo – almost all the budget’s measures, big or small, nice or nasty. This time they even revealed the exact size of the old year’s surplus. But you hold back one juicy morsel, knowing the media’s obsession with what’s “old” and what’s “new” will guarantee it leads every home page.

I call it the cherry on the top. And this time it was the $300 energy rebate going to all households. A prize for everyone (except the pensioners, who last year got $500) and proof positive that Jim Chalmers feels their cost-of-living pain. (It would have been much better to announce the rejig of the stage 3 tax cuts, of course, but Albo had to play that card early, to help with a dicey byelection.)

How were the spinners to know the punters would be incensed when they realised it would even be going to Gina Rinehart? And get this: if a billionaire owned, say, 10 investment properties, they’d be getting 11 lots of $300. Outrageous.

The way some tabloids tell it, the punters were so offended they were rioting in the streets, demanding Chalmers stick their $300 up his jumper. It was the Beatles returning their MBEs.

Why wasn’t the rebate means tested? Perfectly good reason: because that would have been more trouble and expense than it was worth. Don’t bother mentioning: because, apart from being a popular giveaway, the rebate’s other purpose was to help reduce the consumer price index by 0.5 of a percentage point, and means testing it would have reduced the reduction.

How so many shock jocks and journos could get so steamed up about such a small thing is hard to explain. But what’s much harder to explain is why so many otherwise sensible economists got so steamed up about the wickedness and counterproductive wrongheadedness of it.

I think it’s a perfectly sensible device to hasten progress in getting inflation down to the target zone, and by no means the first time governments have used it. The temporary energy rebate will cost $3.5 billion over two years and the continuing increase in the Commonwealth rent allowance for people on social security will cost $880 million over its first two years.

So while it’s true that increased government spending adds to inflationary pressure, to argue furiously about $4.4 billion in an economy worth $2.7 trillion a year shows the lack of something the late great econocrat Aussie Holmes said every economist needed: “a sense of the relative magnitudes”. It’s chicken feed.

But the financial experts’ righteous indignation about what they see as an inflationary attempt to fudge the inflation figures seemed to utterly distort their evaluation of the budget and its effect on the macroeconomy.

The budget was a “short-term shameless vote-buying exercise” in which Labor abandoned all pretence of fiscal responsibility and went on a massive spending spree. The budget’s return to surplus had been abandoned, leaving us with deficits as far as the eye could see. We now had a permanent “structural deficit”. The hyperbole flowed like wine.

It’s true that the policy decisions announced in the budget are expected to add $24 billion to budget deficits over the next four years. But if, as the financial experts assert, getting inflation down ASAP is the only thing we should be worrying about, then it’s really what’s added in the coming year that matters most. Which reduces the size of Chalmers’ crimes to less than $10 billion.

It’s true, too, that the expected change in the budget balance from a $9 billion surplus in the financial year just ending, to a deficit of $28 billion in the coming year, is a turnaround of more than $37 billion. Clearly, and despite Chalmers’ denials, this changes the “stance” of fiscal policy from restrictive to expansionary.

But the financial experts seem to have concluded this development can be explained only by a massive blowout in government spending. Wrong. It’s mainly explained by the $23-billion-a-year cost of the stage 3 tax cuts.

Perhaps they were misled by the budget’s Table of Truth (budget statement 3, page 87) which, like everything in economics, has its limitations. The tax cuts don’t rate a mention. Why not? Because they’ve been government policy since 2018, and so have been hidden deep in the budget’s “forward estimates” for six years.

But whatever its main cause, surely this shift to expansionary fiscal policy puts the kybosh on getting inflation back down to the target range? Well, it would if shifts in the stance of the macroeconomic policy instruments were capable of turning the economy on a sixpence.

Unfortunately, the first rule of using interest rates to slow down or speed up the economy is that this “monetary policy” works with a “long and variable lag”.

The financial experts seem to have forgotten that managing the strength of demand – and fixing inflation without crashing the economy – is all about getting your timing right.

So is predicting the consequences of a policy change. Two years of highly restrictive monetary and fiscal policies won’t be instantly reversed by a switch to expansionary fiscal policy. As the new boss of the Grattan Institute, Aruna Sathanapally, has wisely noted, at the heart of the budget is the sad truth that the economy is weak, which is one reason inflation will fall.

The inflation rate peaked at just under 8 per cent at the end of 2022. By March this year it had fallen to 3.6 per cent. To me, that’s not a million miles from the Reserve Bank’s target range of 2 per cent to 3 per cent.

But the financial experts seem to have convinced themselves there’s a lot of heavy lifting to go. They even quote one brave soul saying the Reserve will need two more rate rises. I think it’s more likely we’ll get down to the target in the coming financial year, and that the move to expansionary fiscal policy will prove well-timed to help reverse engines and ensure the Reserve achieves its promised soft landing.

Chalmers’ decision to use the $300 rebate to reduce the consumer price index directly by 0.5 of a percentage point adds to my confidence. It’s particularly sensible if, as the financial experts have convinced themselves, the inflation rate’s fall is now “sticky”.

Those dismissing this decline as merely “technical” display their ignorance of how wages and prices are set outside the pages of a textbook. To everyone but economists, the CPI is the inflation rate. It’s built into many commercial contracts and budget measures.

It’s a safe bet this device will cause the Fair Work Commission’s annual increase in minimum award wage rates – affecting the bottom quarter of the workforce – to be about 0.5 of a percentage point lower than otherwise. And do you really think employers won’t take the opportunity to reduce wage rises accordingly? I doubt they’re that generous.

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Budget's message: maybe we'll pull off the softest of soft landings

When normal people think about the economy, most think about the trouble they’re having with the cost of living. But when economists think about it, what surprises them is how well the economy’s travelling.

It’s been going through huge ups and downs since COVID arrived in early 2020. By 2022, it was booming and the rate of unemployment had fallen to 3.5 per cent, its lowest in almost 50 years. Meaning we’d returned to full employment for the first time in five decades.

Trouble was, like the other rich economies, prices had begun shooting up. The annual rate of inflation reached a peak of almost 8 per cent by the end of 2022.

The managers of the economy know what to do when the economy’s growing too fast and inflation’s too high. The central bank increases interest rates to squeeze households’ cash flows and discourage them from spending so much.

The Reserve Bank started raising the official “cash” interest rate in May 2022, just before the federal election. It kept on raising rates and, by November last year, had increased the cash rate 13 times, taking it from 0.1 per cent to 4.35 per cent.

While this was happening, Treasurer Jim Chalmers was using his budget – known to economists as “fiscal policy” – to help the Reserve’s “monetary policy” to increase the squeeze on households’ own budgets, reducing their demand for goods and services.

Why? Because, when businesses’ sales are booming, they take the chance to whack up their prices. When their sales aren’t all that brisk, they’re much less keen to try it on.

The government’s tax collections have been growing strongly because many more people had jobs, or moved from part-time to full-time, and because higher inflation meant workers were getting bigger pay rises.

As well, iron ore prices stayed high, meaning our mining companies paid more tax than expected.

Chalmers tried hard to “bank” – avoid spending – all the extra revenue. So, whereas his budget ran a deficit of $32 billion in the year to June 2022, in the following year it switched to a surplus of $22 billion, and in the year that ends next month, 2023-24, he’s expecting another surplus, this time of $9 billion.

So, for the last two years, Chalmers’ budget has been taking more money out of the economy in taxes than it’s been putting back in government spending, thus making it harder for households to keep spending.

Guess what? It’s working. Total spending by consumers hardly increased over the year to December 2023. And the rate of inflation has fallen to 3.6 per cent in the year to March. That’s getting a lot closer to the Reserve’s target of 2 to 3 per cent.

The Reserve’s rate rises have been the biggest and fastest we’ve seen. Wages haven’t risen as fast as prices have and, largely by coincidence, a shortage of rental accommodation has allowed big increases in rents.

And on top of all that you’ve got the budget’s switch from deficits to surpluses. Much of this has been caused by bracket creep – wage rises causing workers to pay a higher average rate of income tax, often because they’ve been pushed into a higher tax bracket.

Bracket creep is usually portrayed as a bad thing, but economists call it “fiscal drag” and think of it as good. It acts as one of the budget’s main “automatic stabilisers”, helping to slow the economy down when it’s growing too quickly and causing higher inflation.

The Reserve keeps saying it wants to get inflation back under control without causing a recession. But put together all these factors squeezing household budgets, and you see why people like me have worried that we might end up with a hard landing.

Which brings us to this week’s budget. The big news is that in the coming financial year the budget is expected swing from this year’s surplus of $9 billion to a deficit of $28 billion.

This is a turnaround of more than $37 billion, equivalent to a big 1.3 per cent of annual gross domestic product. So, whereas for the past two financial years the “stance” of fiscal policy has been “contractionary” (acting to slow the economy), it will now be quite strongly “expansionary” (acting to speed it up).

Some people who should know better have taken this turnaround to have been caused by a massive increase in government spending. They’ve forgotten that by far the biggest cause is the stage 3 tax cuts, which will reduce tax collections by $23 billion a year.

The same people worry that this switch in policy will cause the economy to grow strongly, stop the inflation rate continuing to fall and maybe start it rising again. But I think they’ve forgotten how weak the economy is, how much downward pressure is still in the system, and how long it takes for a change in the stance of policy to turn the economy around.

Treasury’s forecasts say the economy (real GDP) will have grown by only 1.75 per cent in the financial year just ending, will speed up only a little in the coming year and not get back to average growth of about 2.5 per cent until 2026-27.

So, the rate of inflation will continue falling and should be back into the target range by this December. All this would mean that, from its low of 3.5 per cent – which had risen to 4.1 per cent by last month – the rate of unemployment is predicted to go no higher than 4.5 per cent.

That would be lower than the 5.2 per cent it was before the pandemic, and a world away from the peak of about 11 per cent in our last big recession, in the early 1990s.

So maybe, just maybe, we’ll have fixed inflation and achieved the softest of soft landings. Treasury’s forecasting record is far from perfect, to put it politely, but it is looking possible – provided we don’t do something stupid.

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Budget will make us better off now, but worse off later

It’s said you can tell a government’s true priorities from what it does in its budget. If so, the top priority of Anthony Albanese’s government is not to have any priorities.

Rather than focusing on fixing the most pressing of our many problems, his preference is to be seen doing a little to alleviate all of them. In this budget, (almost) every voter wins a prize.

Certainly, every powerful interest group gets something to placate it. Of course, when you’re handing out so many prizes, most of them aren’t all that big.

Unfortunately, it’s a strategy that works better politically – where every vote counts – than economically, where sticking to what you’re good at brings better returns.

Fortunately, however, this budget has been “back-end loaded”. Most of what’s likely to be wasteful spending will come sometime in the next 10 years. Most of the budgetary cost of the sensible decisions starts from the first day of the new financial year, in just seven weeks’ time.

So let’s start with the good half of the budget, and leave the bad stuff for later.

By far the greatest political pressure on the government is to ease the intense cost-of-living pressure that so many people are feeling. Since most of the pressure has been caused by rapidly rising prices, this is also the government’s most immediate economic problem.

The trouble for Treasurer Jim Chalmers is that the standard remedy for rapid inflation involves making the pressure worse to make it better. You use higher interest rates and a bigger tax bite out of people’s pay rises to make it harder for households to keep spending, which stops businesses from raising their prices as much.

This explains Chalmers’ repeated but contradictory statement that he wants to ease the cost of living without weakening the efforts – by the Reserve Bank and his own budget surpluses – to get inflation down.

But this is where Albanese’s predilection for the each-way bet actually makes sense. Chalmers has found a way to do the seemingly impossible: ease living pressures a bit, while weakening the inflation fight only a bit.

He’s done this, first, by introducing a $300 power-bill rebate for all households, increasing the rent allowance paid to people receiving welfare benefits, and freezing the cost of prescriptions for two years.

This not only helps those people; it also reduces the rise in the consumer price index somewhat. And this, in turn, brings closer the day when the Reserve Bank starts cutting interest rates.

But second, by his rejig of the stage 3 tax cuts. This may be old news, but it’s by far the biggest measure in the budget. Most wage earners will realise how big it is – and how much it helps – when it increases their take-home pay at the start of July.

Albanese and Chalmers took a tax cut the previous government had intended to be of real benefit only to those on incomes well above the average, and changed it to ensure all taxpayers got something.

See? Everyone gets a prize. Everyone on incomes below about $150,000 a year gets more; everyone above that gets less than first intended. As a measure to ease living costs, it’s now far more effective.

Why won’t this $23 billion-a-year tax cut weaken the inflation fight? Because it has been government policy since 2018. It’s likely effect on households’ spending has been built into the Reserve Bank’s decisions to raise interest rates 13 times. Good stuff.

But it’s when we turn to the longer-term Future Made in Australia plans that you see the folly of Albanese’s efforts to stay friends with every interest group on every side.

By far the most important task Albanese must accomplish to secure our economic future is to achieve a smooth transition from fossil fuels to renewables – most of it done by 2030 – without blackouts and avoidable jumps in the cost of electricity.

But, more than that, he must ensure our continuing income from exports by establishing new green, further-processing industries exploiting our new-found strength of being among the world’s cheapest producers of renewable energy. This can be what will keep us prosperous when the world stops buying our fossil fuels.

The government spending needed to get these green industries started is included in the Future Made in Australia project. Trouble is, so is money for a lot of crazy ideas, such as setting up in competition with China as a producer of solar panels.

Albanese’s problem is he wants to say yes to everyone and everything, not just stick to the main chance. He’s saying he can turn us into a renewable energy superpower with one hand while, with the other, he lets the gas industry steam on to 2050 and beyond.

This does not fill me with confidence in the Albanese government’s capability. Quite the reverse.

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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.

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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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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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Why all politicians want to use bracket creep to mislead you

Another round of tax cuts; another round of politicians saying tricky things about bracket creep. Whether they’re giving some of it back or letting it rip, our pollies on both sides hope bracket creep remains, as it has long been, their dirty little secret.

The latest is the claim that Anthony Albanese’s changes to the legislated stage 3 tax cuts will, over the next 10 years, cause income tax collections to be $28 billion higher than they would have been.

Anthony Albanese’s tax cut rejig will make them fairer. But we’ll have more bracket creep under Labor than we would had under Scott Morrison.

This figure is from Treasury’s published advice to Treasurer Jim Chalmers. What Treasury hasn’t been honest enough to do, however, is to warn us that its projection is based on a quite unrealistic assumption.

So let me tell you how bracket creep works, in a way the pollies never would.

First, understand that the income tax scale assumes there’s no such thing as inflation. It assumes that every pay rise you get results from a promotion or from moving to a better-paid job.

In which case, it would be fair enough to make you pay a higher proportion of your income in tax. It ignores that most of the pay rises we get merely cover the rise in consumer prices, leaving us no better off in “real” terms.

This would be true even if all of us paid the same flat tax rate of, say, 30 per cent. But it’s even more the case because the tax scale is “progressive”: our income is taxed in slices, with the tax rate on each slice getting progressively higher.

That is, the proportion of our total income paid in tax – our overall average rate of tax – increases as our income increases, for whatever reason.

The justification for having a progressive tax scale is to ensure that those who can afford to cover a higher share of the cost of government pay a lot more than those who can’t. Fair enough.

It’s easy to see how a rise in our income that pushed the last part of that income into a higher tax bracket would increase our average rate of tax. That’s how this phenomenon got the name “bracket creep”.

What’s harder to see is that, though moving to what economists call a higher marginal tax rate is the fastest way to increase your average rate of tax, the mere fact that every pay rise means a greater proportion of your total income is taxed at your (higher) marginal rate will still drag up your average rate. That’s even if you’re not pushed into a higher bracket – say, because you’re already on the top marginal rate.

What all this means is that, for as long as the pollies sit back and do nothing, the presence of any degree of inflation means everyone’s average tax rate keeps rising forever.

The dirty secret is, all pollies like bracket creep because it’s a way of increasing taxes without having to announce it, meaning many people don’t notice.

But obviously, the pollies know they can’t get away with that forever. The standard solution to bracket creep – practised by the US, Canada, Denmark, Sweden and other European countries – is to automatically index all the tax brackets each year, raising them by the rate of inflation.

The Fraser government did this for a couple of years in the 1970s before deciding it wasn’t worth it politically. Because the annual tax cuts it produced were small and automatic, the media and the taxpayers took too little notice of them.

So Malcolm Fraser decided it was smarter politics to delay having tax cuts until you could afford to have a big one. Say, every three years or so. And what about having it before an election – or maybe just after an election?

And, what’s more, why give everyone the same percentage cut in taxes when you could play favourites by cutting tax rates on some slices more that on others?

Why not cut the rates for higher brackets by more than you cut them for lower brackets? This would make the tax scale less progressive, which the better-off would love.

This is the way both sides have played the tax-cut game until then-treasurer Scott Morrison came along in the 2018 budget with his tricky plan to cut tax in three stages over seven years.

Note that having tax cuts only every three years or so means the taxman gets to keep a lot of the proceeds of bracket creep. Your eventual tax cut gives back only some of the extra that bracket creep has taken.

What a tax cut does is lower your average tax rate to somewhere closer to what it was at the time of the previous tax cut. And, of course, the day after your latest tax cut, the bracket-creep machine starts pushing your average tax rate back up again.

Note too, that if, rather than raising each of the tax brackets by the same percentage, the pollies start fiddling with the size of the rates applying to some of the brackets, there’s no guarantee that the bracket creep you lost is related to what you get back.

And the truth is, bracket creep doesn’t hit taxpayers towards the top of the scale proportionately to those towards the bottom. Average tax rates towards the bottom rise more than those at or near the top.

That’s because the brackets are closer together – the tax slices are thinner – near the bottom than they are near the top. And, of course, someone already on the top marginal tax rate can’t ever move to a higher rate.

Got all that? Now we can look at the strange design of the three-stage tax cut treasurer Morrison announced in the budget of May 2018, and at Albanese’s broken promise last week not to change stage 3 of the cuts.

As I’ve written several times, stage 1 – the low- and middle-income tax offset – was terminated, without announcement, in the Morrison government’s last budget before the 2022 election. Labor could have made sure everyone knew this, but chose to stay silent.

The stage 2 tax cuts were small and did little for taxpayers in the bottom half. The stage 3 tax cuts, long planned to start this July, centred on moving to put everyone earning between $45,000 a year and $200,000 a year – about 94 per cent of taxpayers – on a marginal tax rate of 30¢ in the dollar.

This, we were assured, would end bracket creep for good and all. Not true – because, as I’ve explained, there’s more to bracket creep than moving into a higher tax bracket. What is true, however, is that this move would have greatly reduced the extent of bracket creep in future.

Trouble is, moving to this radically less progressive tax scale involved no tax cuts for people at the bottom, and only modest cuts for those in the middle, but massive cuts for people on $180,000 a year and above.

Get it? The bottom half, who have contributed most to the bracket creep now being returned, would get precious little of it back, while the top half would clean up. As we know, Albanese’s rejig will make the tax cuts much less unfair.

However, the drawback is that, in future, we’ll have more bracket creep under Labor’s plan than we would have under Morrison’s. That’s the main reason Treasury projects that, over the next 10 years, the taxman will now collect about $28 billion more than he would have without the latest changes.

Just one problem with this arithmetic. It assumes that future governments could get away with letting bracket creep rip for a whole decade without ever having a tax cut to give some of it back. Yeah, sure.

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