Beware of groupthink on why the economy’s growth is so weak

According to our top econocrats, the underlying cause of the economy’s greatest vulnerability – weak real wage growth – is obvious: weak improvement in productivity. But I fear they’ve got that the wrong way round.

We all agree that, in a well-functioning economy, the growth in wage rates exceeds the rise in prices by a percentage point or two each year. On average over a few years, this “real” growth in wages is not inflationary, but is justified by the improvement in the productivity of the workers’ labour.

If this real growth in wages doesn’t happen, then real growth in gross domestic product will be chronically weak. That’s because consumer spending accounts for about 60 per cent of GDP.

Consumer spending is driven by household disposable income which, in turn, is driven mainly by wage growth.

We would get some growth in GDP, however, because our rate of population growth is so high. But look at growth per person, and you find it’s growing by only about 1 per cent a year.

It’s long been believed that real wages and productivity are kept in line by some underlying (but unexplained) equilibrating force built into the market economy.

Since the two have kept pretty much in line over the decades, few economists have doubted the existence of this magical force, nor wondered how it worked.

In America, however, real wages haven’t kept up with productivity improvement for the past 30 years or more.

And, as Reserve Bank governor Dr Philip Lowe acknowledged while appearing before a parliamentary committee recently, for the past five years nor have they in Australia.

Unlike the unions, which see the weakness in wage growth as the result of past industrial relations “reform” shifting the balance of wage-bargaining power too far in favour of employers, Lowe remains confident the problem is temporary rather than structural.

“Workers and firms right around the world feel like there’s more competition, and they feel more uncertain about the future because of technology and competition,” he said.

So, be patient. As the economy continues to grow and unemployment falls further, workers and their bosses will become more confident, wages will start growing faster than inflation and everything will be back to normal.

To be fair, Lowe is saying we have had “reasonable” productivity improvement over the past five years, which hasn’t been passed on to wages.

It would be better if productivity was stronger, of course, and “there’s been no shortage of reports giving . . . ideas of what could be done” to strengthen it.

But last week the newish chairman of the Productivity Commission, Michael Brennan, broke his public silence to give an exclusive statement to the Australian Financial Review.

“Productivity growth has been disappointing over the last few years in Australia, as it has been in many countries. There are no magic wands . . . but there are some clear remedies for Australia that should start with a focus on governments’ capacity to influence economic dynamism and productivity,” he said.

Oh, no, not that tired old line again. If wages aren’t growing satisfactorily, that’s because productivity isn’t improving satisfactorily, and the only way to improve productivity is for governments to instigate “more micro-economic reform”.

So, weak wage growth turns out to be the workers’ own fault. Their electoral opposition to “more micro reform” is making governments too afraid to do the thing that would raise their real wages.

We’ve become so used our econocrats’ neo-classical way of thinking that we don’t see its weaknesses.

It’s saying that, if the problem is weak demand, the cause must be weak supply, and the solution must be faster productivity improvement, which can be brought about only by “more micro reform”.

This ignores the alternative, more Keynesian way of analysing the problem: if the problem is weak demand, the obvious solution is to fix demand, not improve supply.

Since the global financial crisis, the developed countries, including us, have suffered a decade of exceptionally weak growth.

We’ve had weak consumer spending because of weak wage growth, the product of globalisation and skill-biased technological change, which has diverted much income to those with a lower propensity to consume.

With weak growth in consumer spending, there’s been little incentive to increase business investment rather than return capital to shareholders.

It’s this weakness in business investment spending that’s the most obvious explanation for weak productivity improvement.

That’s because it’s when businesses replace their equipment with the latest model that advances in technology are disseminated through the economy.

Our econocrats are like the drunk searching for his keys under the lamppost because that’s where the supply-side light shines brightest.

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Who pays for Google and Facebook's free lunch?

There may be banks that are too big to be allowed to fail, but don’t fear that the behemoths of the digital revolution are too big to be regulated. It won’t be long before Google and Facebook cease to be laws unto themselves.

It’s the old story: the lawmakers always take a while to catch up with the innovators. But there are growing signs that governments around the developed world – particularly in Europe and Britain - are closing in on the digital giants.

And here in Australia, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission is busy with the world’s most wide-ranging inquiry so far, which will report to the newly elected federal government in June. The commission’s boss, Rod Sims, gave a speech about it a few weeks ago, and another this week.

Sims says the commission’s purpose is “making markets work” by promoting competition and achieving well-informed consumers, so as to deliver good outcomes for consumers and the economy.

With this inquiry into the operations of “digital platforms”, he acknowledges that they have brought huge benefits to both our lives as individuals and our society more broadly.

“They are rightly regarded as impressive and successful, and very focused, commercial businesses. Google and Facebook are rapidly transforming the way consumers communicate, access news, and view advertising,” Sims says.

Each month, he says, about 19 million Australians use Google to search the internet, 17 million access Facebook, 17 million watch content on YouTube (owned by Google), and 11 million double tap on Instagram (owned by Facebook, along with WhatsApp).

The inquiry has satisfied itself that this huge size gives the two companies considerable “market power” – ability to influence the prices charged in certain markets.

“However,” Sims says, “being big is not a sin. Australian competition law does not prohibit a business from possessing substantial market power or using its efficiencies or skills to outperform its rivals.”

But the dominance of Google and Facebook does mean their behaviour should be scrutinised to see if it is harming competition or consumers.

To this end, the inquiry is focused on three potential areas of harm. First, the well-publicised issues of privacy and the collection and sale of users’ data.

Second, the digital platforms’ role in the advertising market, which is moving increasingly on line, where it’s estimated that 68¢ in every digital advertising dollar is going to Google (47¢) and Facebook (21¢).

And that’s not including classified advertising, the loss of which has been the biggest single blow to this august organ.

Sims says Google sells "search advertising", aimed at making an immediate sale, whereas Facebook sells "display advertising", aimed a making consumers aware of the product.

The pair sell ad space in their own right while also facilitating the advertising space sold by others, particularly the media companies. But the opacity of their algorithms and arrangements make it hard to know whether they favour their own ads over other people’s.

Advertisers say they don’t know what they’re paying for, where their ads are being displayed or to whom. This makes it harder for media companies to capture their share of advertising moving online.

Of course, higher costs for advertisers translate to higher prices for consumers.

Third is the digital platforms’ effect on the supply of news and journalism, the primary issue given to the inquiry.

Sims says newspapers and free-to-air radio and television are a classic example of a “two-sided market”. They serve consumers but, rather than charging them directly for the service as other businesses do, they cover their costs and profits by charging advertisers for access to their audience. (Newspaper subscriptions and cover prices accounted for only a fraction of their costs.)

Digital platforms aren’t just two-sided, they’re multi-sided. They, too, provide their services free, and charge advertisers, but also collect and sell to advertisers information about their users’ habits.

Google and Facebook select, curate, evaluate, rank, arrange and disseminate news stories. But they use stories created by others; they don’t create any news stories of their own. If they did, we could see this as no more than tough luck for the existing news media.

But as well as using the existing media’s stories to attract consumers and advertisers, about half the traffic on the Australian news media’s websites comes via Google and Facebook. So they have “a significant influence over what news and journalism Australians do and don’t see,” Sims says.

With the existing media having lost so much of its advertising revenue to the platforms, it’s not surprising they’ve had to get rid of at least a quarter of their journalists. There are a few new digital-only news outlets, but even they are having trouble making it pay.

Trouble is, news and journalism aren’t like most commercial products. They not only benefit the individual consumer, they benefit society as a whole. “Society clearly benefits from having citizens who are able to make well-informed economic, social and political decisions,” Sim says.

So news and journalism is a “public good” – if left to the profit-making private sector, not as much news and journalism will be supplied as is in the interests of society.

Public goods are usually paid for or subsidised by governments using taxpayers’ funds. If we want the benefits of Google and Facebook without losing the benefits of active, independent and challenging news media, taxpayers will have to help out.

Sims is canvassing several proposals before completing his final report. Since the former newspaper companies have realised they’ll never get much of a share of digital advertising, they’re now putting more hope in persuading their regular users to pay directly by buying subscriptions.

With the long-established attitude that everything on the internet should be free (or, at least, seem free), they’re finding it hard going.

That’s why I think Sims’ best suggestion is making personal subscriptions to the news media tax deductible, provided the outlet is bound by an acceptable code of conduct.

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Having stuffed-up deregulation, don't stuff-up re-regulation

As the banking royal commission finishes, the aged care royal commission begins investigating the mistreatment of old people by – taking a wild guess – mainly the for-profit providers. Surely it won’t be long before the politicians, responding to the public’s shock and outrage, are swearing to really toughen up the regulation of aged care facilities.

It’s not hard to see we’ve passed the point of “peak deregulation” and governments will now be busy responding to the electorate’s demands for tighter regulation of an ever-growing list of industries found to have abused the trust of economic reformers past.

But having gone for several decades under-regulating many industries and employers, there’s a high risk we’ll now swing to the opposite extreme of over-regulation. That could happen if politicians simply respond to populist pressures to wield the big stick against greedy business people.

It could happen if politicians yield to one of the great temptations of our spin-doctoring age: caring more about being seen to be acting decisively than whether those actions actually do much good.

And it could happen if our econocrats refuse to admit the shortcomings of their earlier advocacy of deregulation – including their naive confidence that the power of market forces would ensure businesses treated their customers well – and go into a sulk, washing their hands of responsibility for what happens next.

But against all those risks that, in seeking to correct the failures of the previous regime we introduce something that’s just as bad only different, there’s one cause for optimism: as the first cab off the re-regulatory rank, Commissioner Kenneth Hayne’s guiding principles for turning things around. (To be fair, those principles seem to have been influenced by Treasury’s submission to the commission.)

His first principle is that, since almost all the misconduct he uncovered was already unlawful, there’s no need for a raft of legislation to make them doubly illegal. The problem is more getting people to obey the existing law.

Blindingly obvious? Not to a politician who wants to be seen by an angry but uncomprehending public to be acting immediately and decisively. On the rare occasions when Australia is touched by a terrorist act, we see Parliament recalled to pass urgent legislation making terrorism quintuplely illegal.

Hayne’s second principle is that compliance will be increased by making the law simpler, rather than more complex, so no one can be in any doubt about what’s required of them.

The more complex and voluminous you make the law, the more scope you give well-resourced offenders to pay lawyers to find loopholes and argue the toss and string out court proceedings. In the process, increasing the cost to taxpayers of bringing them to justice, increasing the likelihood of them getting off and increasing the reluctance of the regulators to take them on in the first place.

Hayne says the whole body of law needs to be rewritten to simplify and clarify the legislators’ intentions. In the meantime, however, some changes should be made more quickly.

One is to get rid of exceptions, carve-outs and qualifications. Examples are the “grandfathering” (leaving existing arrangements unaffected by new rules) of certain commissions, and the exclusion of funeral insurance from rules affecting other insurance.

As two law professors from the University of Melbourne have pointed out, the rule of law requires like cases to be treated alike. To make exceptions you need powerful arguments – which haven’t been made.

“Instead,” they say, “exceptions and carve-outs reflect the lobbying of powerful industry groups concerned to preserve their own self-interest.” True. There’s no principle of deregulation that says it’s OK to look after your mates.

In highlighting the shortcomings of existing legislation, Hayne stressed that “where possible, conflicts of interest and conflicts between duty and interest [such as not acting in the best interests of your client] should be removed”.

But his final guiding principle is that existing laws must be enforced. “Too often, financial services entities that broke the law were not properly held to account. Misconduct will be deterred only if entities believe that misconduct will be detected, denounced and justly punished,” he said.

Just so. And it raises a mode of response to the electorate’s wider discontents, as governments set out on the path of “re-regulating” industries other than financial services: regulations may need improving, but we don’t need a lot more of them.

No, what we need a lot more of is regulators doing – and being seen to be doing – their job of enforcing existing regulations with vigour and effectiveness, and governments being unstinting in providing them with resources.

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Back to the future: Keynes can lift us out of stagnation

Every so often the economies of the developed world malfunction, behaving in ways the economists’ theory says they shouldn’t. Economists fall to arguing among themselves about the causes of the breakdown and what should be done. We’re in such a period now.

It’s called “secular stagnation” and it’s characterised by weak growth – in the economy, in consumer spending, in business investment and in productivity improvement. This is accompanied by low price inflation and wage growth, and low real interest rates.

Let me warn you: the last time the advanced economies went haywire, it took the world’s economists about a decade to decide why their policies of managing the macro economy were no longer working and to reach consensus around a new policy approach.

That was in the mid-1970s, when the first OPEC oil-price shock brought to a head the problem of “stagflation” – high unemployment combined with high inflation – a problem the prevailing Keynesian orthodoxy said you couldn’t have.

The Keynesians’ “Phillips curve” said unemployment and inflation were logical opposites. If you had a lot of one, you wouldn’t have much of the other.

The developed world’s econocrats lost faith in Keynesianism and flirted with Milton Friedman’s “monetarism” – which was just a tarted-up version of the “neo-classical” orthodoxy that had prevailed until the Great Depression of the 1930s.

That was the previous time the economics profession fell to arguing among itself. Why? Because neo-classical economics said the Depression couldn’t happen, and had no solution to the slump bar the (counter-productive) notion that governments should balance their budgets.

It was John Maynard Keynes who, in his book The General Theory, published in 1936, explained what was wrong with neo-classical macro-economics, explained how the Depression had happened and advocated a solution: if the private sector wasn’t generating sufficient demand, the government should take its place by borrowing and spending.

In the period after World War II, almost all economists – and econocrats – became Keynesians. Until the advent of stagflation.

Notice a pattern? We start out with neo-classical thinking, then dump it for Keynesianism when it can’t explain the Depression. Then, when Keynesianism can’t explain stagflation, we dump it and revert to neo-classicism.

Enter Dr Mike Keating, a former top econocrat, who thinks the present crisis of stagnation means it’s time to dump neo-classicism and revert to Keynesianism.

Why do economists have rival theories and keep flipping between them? Because neither theory can explain every development in the economy, but both contain large elements of truth.

So it’s not so much a question of which theory is right, more a question of which is best at explaining and solving our present problem, as opposed to our last big problem.

I think there’s much to be said for this more eclectic, horses-for-courses approach. There’s no one right model. Rather, economists have a host of different models in their toolbox, and should pull out of the box the model that best fits the particular problem they’re dealing with.

And much is to be said for Keating’s argument that we need a different economic strategy to help us into the 21st century. Got a problem with stagnation? The tradesman you need to call is Keynes.

Although the rich economies are in a lot better shape than they were during the Depression – mainly because, in the global financial crisis of 2008, governments knew to apply Keynesian stimulus - Keating sees similarities between the two periods of economic and economists’ dysfunction.

In this context, the key difference between the rival theories is their differing approaches to supply and demand.

Neo-classical economics assumes the action is always on the supply side. Something called Say’s Law tells us supply creates its own demand, so get supply right and demand will look after itself.

The modern incarnation of this is “the three Ps”. In the end, economic growth is determined by the economy’s potential capacity to produce goods and services, and our “potential” growth rate is determined by the growth in population, participation and productivity improvement (with the last being the most important).

By contrast, Keynesianism is about fixing the problem Say’s Law says we can never have: deficient demand. Insufficient demand was what kept us trapped in the Depression. Keating argues the fundamental cause of our present stagnation is deficient demand, and the solution is to get demand moving again.

Back in the stagflation of the 1970s, however, the problem wasn’t deficient demand. It was the supply side of the economy’s inability to produce all the goods and services people were demanding, thus generating much inflation pressure.

After realising that Friedman’s targeting of the money supply didn’t work, the rich world’s eventual solution to the problem was what we in Australia called “micro-economic reform” – reduced protection and government regulation of industries, so as to increase competition within industries and spur greater productive efficiency and productivity improvement, thus increasing our rate of “potential” growth.

Keating – who, with another bloke of the same name, played a big part in making those early reforms – insists they worked well and left us with a more flexible, less inflation-prone economy. True.

By now, however, assuming you can fix a problem of deficient demand by chasing greater competition and improved productivity just shows you haven’t understood the deeper causes of the problem.

But when Keating advocates a new economic strategy of demand management, he doesn’t just mean governments borrowing and spending a lot of money now to give demand a short-term boost.

He mainly means a new kind of micro reform that, by increasing the income going to those likely to spend a higher proportion of it, and by lifting our education and training performance to help workers cope with new technology, ensures demand strengthens and stays strong in the years to come.

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We could be among the world's climate change winners

In the dim distant past, politicians got themselves elected by showing us a Vision of Australia’s future that was brighter and more alluring than their opponent’s.

These days the pollies prefer a more negative approach, pointing to the daunting problems we face and warning that, in such uncertain times, switching to the other guy would be far too risky.

We’ve gone from “I’m much better than him” to “if you think I’m bad, he’d be worse”. Maybe they simply lack any vision of the future beyond advancing their own careers.

Management-types tell us we should conduct “SWOT analysis” – considering our strengths and weaknesses, opportunities and threats. But we’ve become mesmerised by the threats and incapable of seeing the opportunities. Such a pessimistic mindset is crippling us when we could be going from strength to strength.

Take climate change. It, of course, is a threat – to our climate, and hence to our comfort and our economy – but think a bit more about it and you realise that, for a country like ours, it’s also a new gravy train we could be climbing aboard.

The stumbling block is that responding to climate change requires change – and no one likes change, especially those who earn their living from the present way of doing things.

So, what more natural reaction than to resist change? Economists are always warning politicians not to try “picking winners”. In reality, they’re far more likely to resist change by spending lots of money trying to prop up losers.

Start by denying that change is necessary. Global warming isn’t happening, it’s just a conspiracy by scientists angling for more research funds.

Nothing new about heatwaves, bushfires, droughts, floods and cyclones – they’ve always existed. They’re becoming bigger and more frequent? Just your imagination.

What you’re not imagining is the ever-higher cost of electricity. But that’s just because those ideologues imposed a carbon tax and are making us subsidise renewable energy. Get rid of the taxes and subsidies and the cost falls back to what it was.

And those terrible wind turbines. They’re unnatural and unsightly, they kill rare birds and their noise endangers farmers’ health.

Renewable energy is unreliable because it depends on the wind blowing or the sun shining. You need coal for steady supply. With the greater reliance on renewables, where do you think the blackouts are coming from?

And renewable energy is so expensive. Coal-fired electricity is much cheaper. Plus, we’ve got all our chips stacked on coal. We’re world experts at open-cut coal mining. Our coal is much higher quality than most other countries'.

Coal provides jobs for 30,000 workers. There are towns desperate for jobs who’d just love another coal mine. And, of course, we’ve still got huge reserves of the stuff that’s of no value if it stays in the ground.

Some of these claims have always been untrue, some are no longer true and some are less true than they were.

Just this week, for instance, a report from the independent Grattan Institute has debunked the claim that “outages” are being caused by renewables, saying more than 97 per cent of outage hours can be traced to problems with the local poles and wires that transport power to businesses and homes.

While it’s true that power from existing coal-fired generators is dirt cheap, many of these are old and close to the end of their useful lives. They’re not being replaced by new coal generators because there’s too much risk that the demand for coal-fired power will dry up before the generators have returned the money invested in them.

The latest report from the CSIRO says the lowest-cost power from a newly built facility is now produced by solar and wind.

The cost of solar, battery storage and, to a lesser extent, wind power, has fallen dramatically over this decade, partly because of advances in technology but mainly because of economies of scale as China and many other countries jump on the bandwagon. These falls are likely to continue.

This has gone so far that the old arguments about the need for a price on carbon and subsidies for renewables are being overtaken by events.

Installation of renewable generation is proceeding apace, with all renewables’ share of generation in the national electricity market jumping from 16 per cent to 21 per cent, just over the year to December, according to Green Energy Markets.

So, as the economist Professor Frank Jotzo, of the Australian National University, has said, coal is on the way out. The only question is how soon it happens.

According to our present way of looking at it, this is disastrous news. But not if we see it as more an opportunity than a threat.

Professor Ross Garnaut, of the University of Melbourne, has said that “nowhere in the developed world are solar and wind resources together so abundant as in the west-facing coasts and peninsulas of southern Australia.

“Play our cards right, and Australia’s exceptionally rich endowment per person in renewable energy resources makes us a low-cost location for energy supply in a low-carbon world economy.

“That would make us the economically rational location within the developed world of a high proportion of energy-intensive processing and manufacturing activity.”

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Politicians, economists will decide if bank misbehaviour stops

In the wake of the Hayne report on financial misconduct, many are asking whether the banks have really learned their lesson, whether their culture will change and how long it will take. Sorry, that’s just the smaller half of the problem.

You can’t answer those questions until you know whether the politicians and their economic advisers have learned their lesson and whether their culture will change.

Why? Because the game won’t change unless the banks believe it has changed, and that will depend on whether governments (of both colours) and their regulators keep saying and doing things that remind the banks and others on the financial-sector gravy train that the behaviour of the past will no longer go undetected and unpunished.

One of Commissioner Hayne’s most significant findings was that almost all the misbehaviour he uncovered was already illegal. Which raises an obvious query: in that case, why did so much of it happen?

Hayne’s answer was “greed”. That’s true enough, but doesn’t tell us much. Greed has been part of the human condition since before we descended from the trees. But greed has been channelled and held in check by other factors – particularly by social norms that disapprove of it and find ways to censure people who aggrandise themselves are the expense of others. In old times, social ostracism was enough.

So, since banks and other financial outfits haven’t always been willing to exploit their customers the way they have recent decades, the question is: what changed?

One explanation is that the economy’s become a bigger, more complex, more impersonal place, where the exploiter and the exploited don’t know each other. Where the exploitation is carried out by four of the biggest, most sprawling and intricate computer systems in the country.

Where I can spend my obscenely large pay cheque without seeing the faces of the people I’ve ripped off flashing before my eyes. Indeed, in my suburb, all of us get huge pay cheques. And I don’t feel guilty; some of them get much bigger cheques than me.

But another part of the explanation must surely be that things started changing after the triumph of “economic rationalism”, the introduction of microeconomic reform, and the deregulation of the financial sector in the second half of the 1980s.

In the highly regulated world, there was less scope and less incentive to mistreat customers. Competition was limited and there was little innovation. Deregulation was intended to spur competition between the banks and give customers a better deal.

I’m not saying bank deregulation was a bad idea. It did bring innovation (we forget that banking and bill-paying are infinitely more convenient than they were) and you no longer have to live in a good suburb to get a loan from a bank.

And the banks do compete far more fiercely than they used to. It's just that they compete not on price (as the reformers assumed they would) but on market share and which of the big four achieves the biggest profit increase.

In this they’ve behaved just as you’d expect oligopolists to behave.

In the meantime, economic rationalism sanctified greed (the “invisible hand” tells us the market leaves us better off because of the greed of the butcher and the baker) and economists invented euphemisms such as “self-interest” and “the profit motive”.

Then, after economists got the bright idea of using bonuses and share options to align management’s interests with shareholders’, big business elevated “shareholder value” to being companies' sole statutory obligation.

Now, however, when Hayne says the banks gave priority to sales and profits over their customers’ interests, everyone’s rolling around in horror.

And politicians and econocrats are feigning surprise that financial regulators, long given a nod and wink to dispense only “light” regulation of the players (and denied the funding to give them any hope of successful prosecutions), did just as they were told.

Unless the econocrats and their political masters are willing to accept the naivety that marred bank deregulation, the harm ultimately done to bank customers – ranging from petty theft to life-changing loss – and the system’s susceptibility to political corruption, the banks’ culture won’t change because the will to change it won't last.

The existing prohibitions on mistreatment of customers need to be made more effective, as proposed by Hayne but, above all, the law needs to be policed with vigour – including adequately resourced court proceedings – so the banks realise they have no choice but to change.

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Bank royal commission the start of re-regulation

If you think the banking royal commission’s damning report means you’ll never again be overcharged or otherwise mistreated by a bank, you’re being a bit naive. If you’re hoping to witness leading bankers being dragged off to chokey, you’ll be waiting a while.

But if you think that, once the dust has settled, we’ll find little has changed, you haven’t been paying attention.

I think we’ll look back on this week and see it as the start of the era of re-regulation of the economy. The time it became clear our politicians were no longer willing to give big business an easy ride, to assume it would only ever act in the best interests of its customers and that nothing should ever be done to displease the big end of town, for fear this would damage the economy.

And I’m talking about a lot more than banking, superannuation and insurance. Many other industries have been treating their customers or employees badly, and they too will find governments getting tough with wrongdoers.

Why the change of heart? Because, in so many cases, the 30-year experiment with deregulation, privatisation and outsourcing is now seen to have ended badly.

Recent years have revealed many businesses breaking the law while government regulatory bodies fail to bring them to justice: firms paying their employees less than their legal entitlements, firms taking advantage of foreign students and others on temporary work visas, private providers of vocational education inducing youngsters to sign up for inappropriate courses, irrigators illegally extracting water from the Murray-Darling river system, private inspectors certifying high-rise apartment blocks later found to be seriously defective, and many more.

Big business may have power and money, but customers and employees have votes. And when voters experience mistreatment at the hand of business – or just read about the mistreatment of others – they tend to blame the politicians, who were supposed to ensure such things happened only rarely.

Commissioner Kenneth Hayne has found that almost all the misbehaviour by banks and other institutions he uncovered was already illegal.

He makes the point that “the primary responsibility for misconduct in the financial services industry lies with the entities concerned and those who managed and controlled those entities”.

But, he adds, “too often, financial services entities that broke the law were not properly held to account.

“The Australian community expects, and is entitled to expect, that if an entity breaks the law and causes damage to customers, it will compensate those affected customers. But the community also expects that financial services entities that break the law will be held to account.”

And when the Australian community realises this hasn’t happened, who does it blame? Who does it seek most to punish? The government of the day. Even though the genesis of the policy problem lies in decisions made by governments long gone.

Do you see now why the worm has turned on deregulation?

Former Labor and Coalition governments’ naive faith that “market forces” would oblige businesses to do the right thing has proved badly misplaced. In their scramble for higher profits and pay, seemingly respectable businesses have taken advantage of their greater freedom, knowingly breaking the law whenever they thought they wouldn’t be caught.

And now the chickens have come home, who’s most at risk of losing their jobs? Not the bosses of offending businesses, not the regulators asleep at the wheel, but the government of the day. That’s the rough justice of democracies. Voters hit out at those they have the power to hit – those they elect.

It was business that had the fun, but it’s politicians in most immediate danger of paying the price. Do you really think they’ll be going easy on their former business mates who’ve been dudding them behind their backs?

But what’s a threat to the government is an opportunity for the opposition. Competition between the two parties will ensure the Hayne commission’s recommendations are acted on.

And, whichever side wins the election, the next term will see a tightening of the regulation of many industries beside financial services.

Commissioner Hayne was highly critical of the two main financial regulators, the Australian Securities and Investment Commission and the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority. Why did they allow so much wrongdoing to get past them?

Partly because they succumbed to the ailment threatening all regulators: “capture” by the industry they were supposed to be regulating. They allowed themselves to become too matey with the industry, seeing its point of view more clearly than the interests of its customers.

But there’s more to it. During the decades in which politicians and some economists convinced themselves that the more lightly businesses were regulated the better they’d serve the rest of us, the regulatory authorities were left intact more for appearances than function.

They soon got the message that their political masters – from either side of politics – wanted them to go easy on business. Both sides went for years reinforcing the message by repeatedly cutting the regulators’ funding.

But all that’s changed. The politicians, claiming to be shocked by the regulators’ dereliction, are now pumping in taxpayers’ money as fast as they can go. Life won’t be the same for big business.

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Hey pollies: weak wage growth won't fix itself

The economy’s prospects are threatened by various risks from overseas – about which we can do little – and by continuing weakness in wage growth – about which the two sides contesting the May federal election have little desire to talk.

In his major economic speech last week, Scott Morrison gave wages only a passing mention: “by focusing on delivering a strong economy we create the right environment for wages growth, which we are now beginning to see, and more will follow”.

Actually, you need a microscope to see any improvement. The microscope shows that most of it is explained by the Fair Work Commission’s hefty 3.5 per cent increase in minimum wage rates last June.

(And why was it so generous? To offset the effect on pay packets of its earlier decision to phase down Sunday penalty rates.)

Not, however, that Bill Shorten has had a lot more than Morrison to say about the causes and cure of weak wage growth. Presumably, Shorten fears that anything he says about changes to wage fixing will be used to feed yet another scare campaign about him being a patsy for a union takeover.

Two or three years ago, I was happy to entertain the view still publicly espoused by the Reserve Bank (and still happily hidden behind by Morrison) that the wage problem was simply cyclical: wages are taking longer than expected to recover from the ups and downs of the resources boom but, be patient, they’ll come good soon enough.

Sorry, that possible explanation gets harder to believe as each quarter passes without any sign of nominal wage growth moving ahead of weak inflation, so as to give employees their rightful share of the improvement we’ve achieved in the productivity of their labour.

(And thus – ScoMo please note - giving the boost to real household disposable income, then consumer spending and then business investment spending, that has always been the greatest single contributor to “delivering a strong economy”.)

No, as years pass without the cycle restoring real wage growth, it becomes easier to believe the problem arises from some deeper issue with the structure of the economy.

The most popular structural explanation – best espoused by Professor Joe Isaac, an eminent labour economist – is that the “reform” of wage fixing went too far in shifting the balance of industrial bargaining power in favour of employers.

Isaac’s various proposals for reforming the reform – including restoring unions’ right of entry to the workplace, reducing the rigmarole before workers can strike, and restoring permission for industry-wide bargaining – would no doubt have crossed Labor’s mind for serious consideration should it win the election.

But another noted labour economist, former top econocrat Dr Mike Keating, has his doubts. He says he has no great objection to Isaac’s wage-fixing reforms, but doubts they’ll get wages moving because the structural problem is much deeper.

As argued in detail in his book with Professor Stephen Bell, Fair Share, and many articles and blogs, Keating sees our wages problem in the much broader context of the malaise of “secular stagnation” that’s been gripping the US and other advanced economies for at least a decade.

Keating reminds us that wage growth has been weak in most of the advanced economies for several decades, accompanied by rising inequality.

The distribution of earnings (that is, wages, rather than income from all sources) has become more unequal, Keating argues, mainly because of technological change and, to a lesser extent, globalisation.

Technological change has been “skill-biased”, with strong growth in high-skilled employment, and reasonable growth in unskilled jobs, but a decline in middle-level jobs, where routine jobs are being done by computers.

The result is a change in the structure of employment, one which increases earnings inequality. If so, it’s not a problem that could be fixed by higher wage-rates.

Keating says we’ve been slow in Australia to see what’s increasingly been realised overseas and by the international economic agencies: income inequality is bad for economic growth (mainly because the high-paid save rather than spend a higher proportion of their incomes).

But Keating’s more fundamental policy response to the problem of technology-driven weak wage growth and increased inequality is enhanced education and training, to help workers adjust to the challenges posed by new technologies, as well as spur the adoption of those technologies.

He’d give priority to early childhood learning and life-long learning through the TAFE system. He's happy to note this would require us to pay more tax rather than less – another thought the pollies don’t want us thinking about right now.

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Rates of tax tell us nothing about economic success

When Leigh Sales of 7.30 asked Scott Morrison what evidence he had to support his claim that the economy would be weaker under Labor because it would impose higher taxes, he replied “I think it’s just fundamental economics 101”. Sorry, don’t think so.

The belief that an increase in taxes must, of necessity, discourage work effort, saving and investing is regarded as a self-evident truth by the well-paid. Similarly with the converse: a decrease in taxes must, of necessity, encourage work effort, saving and investing.

But since no one particularly enjoys paying taxes – and some people really hate it – they would think that, wouldn’t they.

It’s a simple, all-purpose, no-need-to-explain argument against me being asked to pay more tax and in favour of me paying less. What’s not to like?

Just that it misrepresents what economics teaches.

It’s true that some economists emphasise the “deadweight loss” involved in imposing taxes. In principle, a tax distorts an individual’s choices, causing them to do things they otherwise wouldn’t.

This distortion of choices is said to be “economically inefficient”, in that it fails to produce the allocation of economic resources – land, labour and capital – that maximises the “utility” (satisfaction) the community derives.

The degree of allocative inefficiency differs for different taxes, with some said to involve greater deadweight loss than others.

By this logic, one of the worst taxes is conveyancing duty (which discourages people from moving house) and the best is a poll tax (everyone pays the same dollar amount each year which, being impossible to avoid, doesn’t change behaviour).

One thing often not mentioned in economics 101 is that tax on the unimproved value of land (such as council rates) and inheritance taxes score well.

But these calculations are based on theory and assumptions. The first of their limitations is that they ignore the benefits that flow when the taxes are spent. When they’re spent on government provision of “public goods” (goods or services that would be undersupplied if their provision was left to the private sector) they increase allocative efficiency.

You shouldn’t have to go beyond first year economics to learn that changes in the price of something have two effects: an “income effect” and a “substitution effect”.

People who believe an increase in income tax (which is a price) discourages work, and a cut in income tax encourages it, are focusing on the substitution effect and ignoring the income effect.

It’s true that a higher rate of income tax should discourage work by reducing the monetary benefit you get from it, relative to the benefit you get from not working. That is, from enjoying more “leisure”. It thus should encourage you to substitute leisure for work – that is, work less.

 By contrast, lowering the tax on work should encourage people to substitute work for leisure – work more.

Trouble is, the income effect works the opposite way. Increasing income tax reduces your after-tax income. If you don’t want your income to fall, you have to do more work, not less. Similarly, cutting income tax increases your after-tax income, encouraging you to work less.

The fact that the income effect and the substitution effect pull in opposite directions means economic theory can’t tell us whether or not tax increases discourage work. To answer that question you have seek out empirical evidence from the real world.

In doing so you’ll make up for theory’s implicit assumption that money is the only factor motivating people to work. If that’s what you think, you’ve got a lot to learn about human nature.

The empirical evidence says changes in the rate of income tax for “primary earners” – the main person a family relies on for income, who’s usually working full-time – aren’t great.

It’s only “secondary earners” - often women working part-time – whose hours of work are much influenced by increases or decreases in income tax.

This is pretty obvious when you think about it. The number of hours worked by full-time employees is set by their boss, whereas part-timers have some degree of control over the hours they work. Certainly, they decide whether they want to move from part-time to full-time.

Let me tell you: politicians’ motive for tax cuts is almost always more political than economic. If Morrison was really on about encouraging more work, his tax cuts would be aimed at working mothers, not the highly paid full-timers they are aimed at.

But there’s another empirical test of his confident assertion that high rates of tax discourage economic growth and low rates encourage it.

If that were true it should also be true that countries with high tax rates have low living standards, whereas countries with low tax rates have high living standards.

Try as they might, however, economists have never been able to find an inverse correlation between the level of taxes and a country’s rate of growth.

For a start, the poor countries have much lower rates of total taxation than the rich ones. Rich countries have high tax rates so they can enjoy the many benefits of being rich: the welfare state, good public infrastructure, good health care, good education and much else.

The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development regularly publishes figures for their 35 member-countries’ rates of total taxation (federal and state) as a percentage of gross domestic product.

Its latest figures, for 2017, show its rich-country members ranging from 46 per cent for France and Denmark to 23 per cent for Ireland. Sweden is on 44 per cent, Germany on 37.5 per cent.

The average for the whole OECD is 34 per cent, with us on about 28 per cent and the United States on 27 per cent (but with a much bigger budget deficit).

If they don’t tell you all that in economics 101, ask for your money back.

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Unhealthy, unhappy lives aren't fair exchange for higher incomes

In his Australia Day address, social researcher Hugh Mackay said that "the Australia I love today – this sleep-deprived, overweight, overmedicated, anxious, smartphone-addicted society – is a very different place from the Australia I used to love".

He identified three big changes: the gender revolution, increasing disparity in wealth, and social fragmentation.

He approves of the first, but laments that we’re "learning to live with a chasm of income inequality" and that social fragmentation means Australians are become "more individualistic, more materialistic, more competitive".

The third big change, he said, posed the biggest challenge – preserving social cohesion.

Earlier this month, the playwright David Williamson lamented that, since the advent of neoliberalism, "the world has become a nastier, more competitive, more ruthless place".

"There’s no perfect society, but I don’t think it needs to be as brutal as it is now."

As we move on from our officially required season of national navel-gazing – "yes, but what does it mean to be Australian?" – these concerns are worth pondering.

Economists object to being blamed for every ill that’s beset our country in the past 40 years. Where’s the proof that this economic policy or that has caused a worsening in mental health, they demand to be told.

It’s true that few developments in society have just a single cause. It’s also true there’s little hard evidence that the A of “microeconomic reform” caused the B of more suicides, for instance.

But there’s a lot of circumstantial evidence. After all, the specific objective of micro reform was to increase economic efficiency by making our markets more intensely competitive. The economists’ basic model views us as individuals, motivated by self-interest, and the goal of faster growth in the economy is aimed at raising our material standard of living.

And if some of our problems stem from changing technology – pursuing friendship via screens, for instance – can economists disclaim all responsibility when one of their stated aims is to encourage technological advance in the name of higher productivity?

Economists assume that economic growth will leave us all better off. Most take little interest in how evenly or unevenly the additional income is shared between households.

The Productivity Commission’s recent and frequently quoted report, finding that the distribution of income hasn’t become more unequal, refers to recent years, not the past 40. And the report averages away the uncomfortable truth that the incomes of chief executives and other members of the top 1 per cent have increased many times faster than for the rest of us.

Sometimes what’s happened since the mid-1980s reminds me of the old advertisement: are you smoking more, but enjoying it less?

Our real incomes have grown considerably over the years – even for people at the bottom – and economic reform can take a fair bit of the credit. It can take most of the credit for the remarkable truth that, unlike all the other rich countries, we’ve gone for 27 years without our least fortunate experiencing the great economic and social pain of recession and mass job loss.

But though most of us are earning and spending more than ever, there’s evidence we’re enjoying it less. Our higher material living standards have come at the cost of increasing social and health problems.

Is that so hard to believe when the key driver of our higher incomes is more intense competition between us?

Economists generally take little interest in social and health problems, regarding them as outside their field. But though problems such as loneliness, stress, anxiety, depression and obesity were with us long before the arrival of neoliberalism, they seem to have got worse since the mid-1980s.

Last year, Dr Michelle Lim, a clinical psychologist at Swinburne University, and her colleagues produced the Australian Loneliness Report, which found that more than one in four Australians feels lonely three or more days a week.

It’s most common among those who are single, separated or divorced. Compared to other Australians, the lonely report higher social anxiety and depression, poorer psychological health and quality of life, and fewer meaningful relationships and social interactions.

Turning to increased stress, it’s an inevitable consequence of living in bigger, faster cities and working in more competitive workplaces. Our bodies respond to stressful events with a surge of adrenaline, which increases our reaction speed and helps ensure our survival.

Trouble is, our bodies aren’t designed to cope with repeated stressful events and adrenaline rushes. Our readiness for fight or flight doesn’t decline, and we remain permanently aroused, which damages our health, making us more at risk of a heart attack or getting sick in other ways.

If more "jobs and growth" and the higher incomes they bring are intended to make us happier, maybe governments would do better by us if they switched their objective from increasing happiness to reducing unhappiness.

For instance, if the banks are now being criticised on all sides for putting profits before people, why are governments – facing an epidemic of obesity and diabetes - so respectful of the food and beverage industry’s right to continue fatten its profits by fattening us and our kids?

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Squaring the world's waste circle ain't that easy

If you think we’ve been standing still – even going backwards – on reconciling the economy with the natural environment, that’s not wholly true. While our refusal to get real on climate change drags on, we’ve started our journey to the nirvana of a “circular economy”.

Never heard the term? Heard of it, but not sure what it means? Really? It’s the great intellectual fashion statement of 2018.

And, since it has more merit than I suspect many of its advocates realise, we must hope it doesn’t fall out of fashion long before it’s done any good.

Governments around the world are doing things about it. Mainly, saying what a nice idea it is, writing reports and designing “road maps”.

The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development has taken up the cause in its RE-CIRCLE project. And no lesser bunch of worthies than the World Economic Forum (the Davos brigade) is enthusiastic.

Here in Oz, last year saw a favourable report from a Senate committee. The Victorian, South Australian and NSW governments have recently signalled their support, with the latter issuing a “circular economy policy statement” in October.

Some of my information comes from an explainer by the Victorian Parliamentary Library, written as recently as October. Circularity is hot, hot, hot.

The explainer explains that, as presently organised, market economies are linear. You take natural resources, process them into many and varied goods – from food to fancy electronic gizmos – which you and I consume before eventually disposing of them. Then we take more natural resources and start the process again.

In contrast, the goal of a circular economy is to keep natural resources in use for as long as possible, extract the maximum value from them while in use, then recover and regenerate products and materials at the end of their serviceable life.

Get it? The ultimate goal is to “decouple” economic growth from the consumption of natural resources.

The OECD points out that, over the last century, global use of raw materials grew at almost twice the rate that the population grew.

To minimise the – to some extent irreparable - damage that economic activity does to the natural environment, we need to ensure it involves less net use of natural resources.

The idea that natural resources should be recycled is one Australians – and people throughout the rich world – happily embraced ages ago. Almost all of us divide our garbage between recycling and the rest before we put it out.

But the concept of a truly circular economy requires us to go a lot further than that. We need to repair the durable products we use rather than throwing them out and buying another.

But that means changing the design of those products from disposable to repairable – and upgradeable. It means making much greater use of recycled materials in the manufacture of “new” products, as well as doing something sensible about all that packaging.

In my limited reading of all the circular economy bumf, I haven’t seen it explained that the basic problem arises from the first law of thermodynamics, which says that matter can be transformed from one form to another, but can be neither created nor destroyed.

In other words, something has to happen to all the natural resources we use to produce and consume. They don’t cease to exist, they just change form. They turn into multiple forms of waste, which we dispose of down the sewer and in landfill.

One important form of waste created by the economic process – particularly if it involves burning fossil fuels – is the emission of greenhouse gases. For more than 200 years we couldn’t see this happening, so we didn’t think it was a problem.

Now we know the gases hang around in the upper atmosphere, trap the earth’s heat from the sun like the roof of a greenhouse, and raise the earth’s temperature.

When you consider how much trouble we’re having agreeing on a solution to that small part of our waste problem, don’t kid yourself dealing with the rest of the waste will be a simple matter of everyone seeing the light and doing the right thing with a bit of encouragement from the government.

What worries me about the circular-economy push is not the objective – it’s dead right - it’s the naivety of those doing the pushing. They want to radically transform the economy, but haven’t seen the need to consult any economists about how you might go about it.

All the governments know better, of course, but they seem to have decided that, as long as it stays on the level of appealing to people to Do The Right Thing, it could keep the greenies diverted without doing much harm.

No one seems to have asked the obvious question: just why is the economy presently linear not circular? Answer: because all the powerful economic incentives push us in that direction.

Because the resources the environmentally aware care about – natural resources – are relatively cheap, whereas the resource they don’t think about, but everyone else does, labour, is relatively dear.

Why do you think the nation’s local councils have been taking most of our recycling and shipping it off to China? Because processing that stuff in a rich country like ours is uneconomic.

Why have the Chinese been taking it? Because their wages were low enough to make processing profitable (that is, economic).

Why have the Chinese now stopped taking it? Because their economic success has raised wage rates and made it no longer profitable.

So, how on earth could we make our economy circular?

Ask economists to figure out a plausible way of reversing our incentive structure. That's the kind of job they do when asked.

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How canny treasurers keep the tax we pay out of sight

We can be sure that tax and tax “reform” will be a big topic (yet again) this year, but what will get less attention is how behavioural economics explains the shape of the existing tax system and makes it hard to change.

I read that this year we may attain the economists’ Holy Grail of replacing state conveyancing duty with a broad-based annual tax on the unimproved value of land under people’s principal residence.

Economists regard taxing homes whenever they change hands as highly economically inefficient because it discourages people from moving when they need to move, whereas taxing the ownership of land as highly efficient because it’s hard to avoid and is naturally “progressive”, hitting the rich harder than the poor.

Holy grails are, however, wondrous things, but almost impossible to attain. Economists have been preaching the virtues of such a switch for at least the past 30 years, with precious few converts (bar, in recent times, the ACT government).

Why have state politicians been so unreceptive to such a patently good idea? Because politicians instinctively understand what most conventional economists don’t: the wisdom of Louis XIV’s finance minister’s declaration that “the art of taxation consists in so plucking the goose as to obtain the largest possible amount of feathers with the smallest possible amount of hissing”.

Or, to put it another way, because conventional economists don’t know enough behavioural economics – the study of how the world actually works thanks to human fallibility, rather than how it would work if we were all as rational as economic textbooks assume us to be.

A central element of the political economy of taxation is that what the punters don’t notice they don’t worry about.

And to every revenue-hungry state treasurer (which is all of ’em), the great virtue of conveyancing duty is that when you’re buying a place for $1 million and someone presents you with a tax bill for $40,000, it looks a relatively small amount and the least of your worries right now.

By contrast, when you open your mail one day and find the government demanding to be paid, say, $5000, you tend to get resentful. Because we’ve spent all our lives in a market economy, we’re used to the notion that, if you want something, you have to pay for it.

And with the converse: you don’t shell out good money without getting something you want in return. Annual land tax breaches that rule: you write a cheque for five grand and just post it off into the void. (This was also part of the reason the old “provisional tax” was so unpopular.)

Behavioural economists demonstrate empirically what politically astute treasurers know instinctively: you greatly reduce the hissing if you can whip the tax away without it being seen. This is why, when introducing the goods and services tax, Peter Costello wrote into the act the requirement that retail prices be quoted inclusive of the tax, without the tax being shown separately.

Of course, for wage earners, personal income tax has worked that way for decades. The pay office extracts an estimate of the tax you’ll have to pay and sends it to the taxman before you even see your pay.

After a while, you pretty much forget you’re paying tax on much of what you buy and are being paid much less than you’re earning. Which also demonstrates the wisdom of a saying familiar to treasurers: a new tax is a bad tax; an old tax is a good tax.

We object loudly to almost all proposals for new taxes – land tax on the family home, a road congestion tax and many more. We spent 25 years working up the courage to impose a value-added tax on “almost everything we buy” (during which time we copied the Kiwis’ crafty idea of renaming it the more innocuous “goods and services tax”).

But here’s the trick: once the new tax has been passed and taken effect, it takes only a year or two for us to accept it as part of the furniture. Behavioural economists call this quirk of human nature “status-quo bias”.

And, of course, just about the oldest tax of all is what Malcolm Fraser used to call “the secret tax of inflation” aka bracket creep.

It’s the tax increase you have when you don’t like tax increases.

Our “revealed preference” (not what we say, but what we do) is that bracket creep's our favourite tax.

Which is why treasurers of both colours give us so much of it.

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How we killed off Australia's inflation problem

Before we let 2018 go, do you realise it’s the 25th anniversary of the introduction of the Reserve Bank’s target to achieve an inflation rate of between 2 and 3 per cent? It’s a milestone worth celebrating.

Why? Because it’s worked so well. For the past quarter century, we’ve had inflation that has fallen within the target range “on average, over time” and hence been low and stable.

This week the Reserve Bank issued a volume of papers from its conference to discuss inflation targeting, and whether it needed to change. (Conclusion: it didn’t.)

In that 25 years we haven’t had a serious worry about inflation – which certainly can’t be said of the 20 years before the target was unveiled in 1993.

In those earlier years we were continually worried about high inflation. It reached a peak of 17 per cent in the mid-1970s, averaged about 10 per cent for that decade and 8 per cent during the 1980s.

All the other advanced economies had high inflation rates at the time, but ours was higher and took longer to fix.

Our problem was usually linked with excessive growth in wages, and the “wage explosions” of the mid-1970s and early 1980s prompted the authorities to jam on the brakes, leading inevitably to severe recessions.

Even though inflation remained high, a third and more severe recession in the early 1990s was more the consequence of the authorities’ overdone attempt to end a boom in commercial property prices.

It’s not by chance that this year we reached 27 years of continuous growth since that recession. Before it, we had recessions about every seven years, all of them caused by the authorities jamming on the brakes – and then, when we crashed into recession, stepping on the accelerator, a “stop/go policy”.

The first reason we haven’t needed to worry much about inflation since then is that, as part of the adoption of the inflation target, responsibility for setting interest rates was moved from the politicians to the econocrats running an independent central bank.

They’ve been a much steadier hand on the interest-rate lever, moving rates up or down according to the needs of the business cycle, not the political cycle.

Another reason we’ve stopped worrying about inflation is that this year is also the 35th anniversary of the floating of our dollar in 1983. A floating exchange rate – which, remarkably, has almost always floated in the direction needed to keep the economy on an even keel – has made it a lot easier for the Reserve to keep inflation low and stable.

A third reason is the extensive program of “micro-economic reform” begun by the Hawke-Keating government in the 1980s – including the deregulation of many industries and the decentralisation of wage-fixing – which has made our economy much less inflation-prone than it used to be.

Yet another factor was the realisation at the time the inflation target was adopted – informally by the Reserve in 1993, and then formally by the incoming Howard government in 1996 – that the key to lower inflation was to get “inflation expectations” down to a reasonable level.

Why? Because there’s a strong tendency for the expected inflation rate in the minds of shopkeepers and union officials to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. If they expect prices to keep rising rapidly, they get in first with their own big price or wage rises.

We’ve spent the past 25 years demonstrating that if you can get everybody expecting inflation to stay low, you have a lot less trouble ensuring it actually does.

The hard part was how to get from the high expectations of the late-1980s to the low expectations we’ve had for most of the past 25 years.

Bernie Fraser, Treasury secretary turned Reserve Bank governor, the man who introduced the target, knew what to do: define what was an acceptably low inflation rate – between 2 and 3 per cent, on average - and keep the economy comatose until you actually achieved the target, then keep it low until everyone had been convinced that “about 2.5 per cent” was what today we’d call “the new normal”.

How did Fraser achieve this? He did the opposite of what his predecessors did whenever they realised they’d hit the economy harder than they’d intended to. Despite knowing we were in for a bad recession, he let the interest-rate brakes off only slowly, and didn’t hit the accelerator.

In other words, he made the recession of the early ‘90s longer and harder than it could have been. I think he decided that, since we were in for a terrible belting anyway, he’d make sure we at least emerged from the carnage with something of value: a cure for our inflation problem that wasn’t just temporary, but lasting.

And that’s what he delivered. With low inflation expectations embedded, he was able to stimulate the economy to grow faster and get unemployment down. It went from 11 per cent after the recession to 5 per cent today.

At the time the inflation target was adopted, some people worried it meant the Reserve didn’t care about unemployment. As events have demonstrated, that was wrong. To Fraser, low inflation was just a means to the ultimate end of low unemployment.

I rate him the best top econocrat we’ve had in 50 years. He was wise and caring, with the best feel for how the economy worked. Peter Costello gets the credit for formally adopting Fraser’s inflation target, pursued by an independent Reserve Bank.

But another person also deserves credit – Dr John Hewson. It was Hewson who, as Coalition shadow treasurer, made the most noise about the need for an independent central bank with an inflation target.

Fraser decided he’d better get on with specifying his own target before “some dickhead minister” tried to impose a crazy one on him.

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ACCC wins watchdog of the year, as others lick their wounds

It’s been an infamous year for Australia’s economic regulators. Most ended it with their lack of vigilance exposed, their reputations battered and their ears stinging from judicial rebuke.

The biggest loser is the Australian Securities and Investments Commission, followed by the Australian Prudential Regulation Authority. But the mismanagement of the national electricity market became more apparent. And neither the Reserve Bank nor Treasury emerged unscathed.

Just one regulator had a good year, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission. It worked hard, discharging its duties with vigour and initiative, taking on powerful business interests, seeking and being granted hugely increased maximum penalties, and fighting to make up for the negligence of its fellow regulators.

As the others have been found wanting, its role has been expanded. And as next year we see the government’s response to this year’s seemingly endless revelations of regulatory failure, it’s role may well be further widened. That’s what tends to happen when rival regulators’ failures become apparent.

It’s been a watershed year. From now on, life will never be the same for regulators found wanting under the microscope of public scrutiny.

Much of that scrutiny came from the banking royal commission, of course. Its interim report in September criticised ASIC for "rarely" going to court "to seek public denunciation of and punishment for misconduct," and being too accommodative when negotiating penalties with the companies it polices.

APRA faced criticism for a "lack of action" in response to widespread misbehaviour in superannuation, including cases where thousands of members were kept in higher fee accounts, rather than being moved into no-frills MySuper products.

But the royal commission wasn’t the only critic of economic regulators this year. I’ve said plenty elsewhere about the failure of the national electricity market’s three (and now four) official operators and regulators to prevent the massive blowout in retail power prices.

One of the many things the Turnbull government did in its vain attempt to fend off pressure for a royal commission was to get the Productivity Commission to report on competition in the financial sector.

The commission confirmed competition in banking was weak and made one eye-opening revelation: part of the problem was that, in their concern to ensure the stability of the banking system, APRA and the Reserve Bank weren’t too worried about ensuring this did as little as possible to inhibit price competition between the big banks.

The commission noted that when APRA had imposed limits on new interest-only lending, it and the Reserve had looked the other way while all four big banks used this as an excuse to jack up interest rates on new and existing interest-only loans.

It recommended that a “consumer champion” be appointed to join APRA, ASIC, Treasury and the Reserve on the co-ordinating Council of Financial Regulators. No prize for guessing the ACCC was the champion the commission had in mind. Nor for reading between the lines that the commission suspected the Reserve and Treasury had been “captured” by the bankers they were supposed to be regulating.

The ACCC has done what little it could over the years to oppose the misregulation and oligopolisation of the national electricity market, and its reports this year revealed what went wrong.

Last week it acted on three fronts. Its preliminary report on digital platforms took on Google and Facebook, greatly expanding our understanding of the questionable ways they operate and working on ways they could be regulated.

ACCC boss Rod Sims has long worried publicly about the state governments privatising their electricity businesses and ports in ways that maximised their sale price by inhibiting price competition. The banker-led Baird-Berejiklian government in NSW is the worst offender.

Last week Sims announced the ACCC was taking the Botany port operator to court, alleging its agreement with the NSW government is anti-competitive and illegal.

And last week the ACCC released its final report on factors influencing residential mortgage prices, commissioned at a time when the banks were threatening to pass the new “major bank levy” straight on to their customers.

The report covered similar territory to the earlier Productivity Commission report, noting again the way the banks had used APRA’s move on interest-only loans as an opportunity for “synchronised pricing”.

But the ACCC’s analysis of pricing dynamics in an oligopolistic market like banking revealed far more realism (and advanced economics) than the Productivity Commission’s trademark introductory textbook neo-classicism. The more I see, the more I like.

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Privatisation has been a disaster in many cases

If you’ve always doubted the sense of privatising government-owned businesses, vindication is now flowing thick and fast. In many – but not all - cases it’s turned out to be bad idea. One that’s costing consumers a pretty penny. Unscrambling the egg, however, is proving a frustrating and painful process.

Many people feared that if private businesses were allowed to buy government businesses, the first thing they’d do would be to jack up their prices. Politicians and supposed experts told them not to worry. Sorry, experts wrong, doubting punters right.

In some cases, the businesses privatised were natural monopolies – electricity transmission and distribution networks, and geographic monopolies, such as federally owned airports and state-owned ports.

It the case of the electricity networks, the experts told us not to worry. The prices the private owners are allowed to charge would be tightly regulated. Wrong. In no time the monopolists found ways to rort the system.

One of Scott Morrison’s biggest problems at the coming federal election is voter anger over the huge increase in electricity prices and his government’s limited progress in getting them back down.

Morrison was so rattled he made the most un-Liberal-like threat to use a “big stick” to force the three big companies that have come to dominate the national electricity market to be broken up if they didn’t cut their prices before the election.

He’s since had to replace his big stick with a small one – suggesting he won’t get far in lowering power prices.

The blowout in power prices is the direct result of a decision to take five state-owned electricity generation, transmission and retailing monopolies and turn them into a national electricity market of competing privatised businesses.

But although the feds are now carrying the can for this giant national stuff-up, it was all the doing of the state governments who did the privatising.

How did they get is so badly wrong? They sabotaged it. While you and I were being told not to worry – that vigorous competition would prevent the businesses from raising their prices unduly – the state governments were busy selling their businesses to the highest bidders.

The highest bidders turned out to be companies putting together a vertically integrated business of power stations at the bottom and power retailers at the top. In some cases, governments tightened reliability standards in a way they knew would make it easier for potential purchasers to game the price regulation rules.

If you wonder why parking is so expensive at airports – and catching a taxi home comes with an extra fee – it’s because the Keating government privatised these geographic monopolies without price controls.

With the state governments’ privatisation of their ports, some private lessees have been allowed to fatten their profits in ways too diffuse for us to see how we’re being got at.

For scheming behaviour by premiers and treasurers, there’s no case more appalling than the way the NSW government privatised its ports of Botany, Port Kembla and Newcastle.

Botany is the state’s one big container port, with Port Kembla specialising in bulk commodities and Newcastle the biggest coal port in the world.

In 2013, Botany and Kembla were leased to a single operator and the sale price was enhanced by a “confidential” agreement that the state government would compensate the operator for each additional container handled by the Newcastle port beyond a minimal level.

The Newcastle port was leased to a separate operator with a confidential agreement requiring it to compensate the government – to the tune of about $100 a box, it’s said - for any money it has to pay the other operator if Newcastle increases its handling of containers.

Trouble is, five years on, this deal the public wasn’t supposed to know about is a classic “seemed like a good idea at the time”. Newcastle’s future as a coal port is all decline (the more so if the Adani mine in Queensland goes ahead), but it’s well placed to diversify by building a big new, state-of-the art container terminal.

It has the land, it could build a single ship-rail-road interchange and its port is deep enough to take the next generation of much bigger container ships that will otherwise be accommodated by only one other Australian port, Brisbane.

But the confidential deal makes a container port in Newcastle uneconomic.

Meanwhile, routing all the state’s inward and outward container movements through Botany is a crazy idea. It’s a long way from the Moorebank intermodal terminal, meaning a huge amount of heavy trucks lumbering through Sydney.

New modelling by AlphaBeta economic consultants for the Port of Newcastle claims a new container terminal would allow businesses in the northern part of the state to divert about 16 per cent of the state’s two-way container traffic through Newcastle, cutting their freight distance by 40 per cent, putting competitive pressure on Botany’s container handling prices, taking many trucks off Sydney roads, boosting the NSW economy and cutting the freight costs hidden in the prices consumers pay.

On Monday the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission announced it was taking the Botany operator to court, alleging its agreement with the NSW government is anti-competitive and illegal.

Just another skirmish in what will be a long-running battle to undo the not-so-unintended consequences of privatisation.

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How about a Robin Hood carbon tax to combat climate change?

What does a public-spirited citizen do when a government makes a solemn commitment to do something important, but simply can’t come up with a policy measure to keep that commitment? Why, they come up with their own suggestion to fill the vacuum.

If you haven’t guessed, the government in question is Scott Morrison’s. The solemn commitment is our Paris agreement to cut our greenhouse gas emissions by 26 or 28 per cent from 2005 levels by 2030.

As part of his overthrow, the government backbench refused to accept former prime minister Malcolm Turnbull’s NEG – national energy guarantee – policy. But Morrison hasn’t been able to come up with a policy measure to take its place.

The public-spirited citizen – or citizens – are Richard Holden, an economics professor at the University of NSW, and Rosalind Dixon, a professor of law at the same uni (who just happen to be married).

This week the pair launched a proposal for an “Australian climate dividend plan” as part of the uni’s “grand challenge on inequality”.

The plan is for a carbon tax, levied at the rate of $50 per tonne of carbon dioxide emissions, not just from electricity generation, but also from transport fuels, direct combustion, fugitive emissions and industrial production processes.

The pair estimate the tax would raise net revenue of about $21 billion a year – and would, of course, raise the retail prices of electricity, gas, petrol, diesel, cement and various other products subject to the tax.

Not likely to be politically popular? Here’s the trick: the $21 billion would be returned to every Australian citizen of voting age, in the form of a tax-free “dividend” payment of about $1300 per person per year.

Because the amount of tax a person paid would vary with the amount of their consumption of taxable items (which, in turn, would vary roughly in line with the size of their incomes), but everyone’s dividend would be a flat $1300 a year, this would produce net winners and net losers.

Holden and Dixon estimate the average household would be a net $585 a year better off. The poorest 25 per cent of households would be better off by more than double that. The net losers would be people whose high spending on taxed items put them on incomes way above average.

Get it? The tax would be highly “progressive”, taking from the rich and giving to the poor. There need be no concern that low-income families would be adversely affected by the new tax. (This, BTW, is how the plan fits the “grand challenge on inequality”.)

And don’t forget this. Pollution taxes such as a tax on carbon are intended to encourage people to avoid paying them. How? By using or doing less of the undesirable thing that’s being taxed.

There are many ways a family could reduce the carbon tax it pays. Avoid wasting electricity and gas. When replacing household appliances, make the next one more energy efficient. Make your next car more fuel efficient.

And here’s an idea: why not generate your own power by putting solar panels on the roof? The higher cost of electricity from the grid would mean the investment paid for itself all the quicker.

In other words, an individual family could increase its net saving by paying less tax but still getting its $1300 annual dividend.

Of course, if too many people did that, the total amount of tax collected would be a lot lower and so the amount of the dividend would need to be reduced.

And, indeed, since the object of the exercise is to significantly reduce our carbon emissions, the tax’s ideal is that next to no one ends up paying it. The more successful the tax, the less it collects. If so, the dividend would start high, but gradually fall to zero.

Since the higher prices of the taxed products they produced would discourage their customers from buying as much, the carbon tax would also create an incentive for the affected businesses to find ways of reducing the emissions caused by those products.

Innovations that made this possible would be very valuable. One obvious way for electricity retailers to reduce the tax on their product (and hence, its price) would be to buy more renewable energy (whose generation involves few emissions) and less coal-fired energy (whose generation involves heavy emissions).

Underlying the economists’ preoccupation with “putting a price on carbon (dioxide)” is their concern that the greenhouse gases emitted by use of fossil fuels impose a cost on society - global warming – that isn’t reflected in the prices charged by producers of emission-intensive products and paid by their customers.

This means that, left to their own devices, the price mechanism and market forces will do nothing to discourage private sellers and buyers of these products from imposing the “social” cost of global warming on all of us.

In other words, emissions and other forms of pollution are outside the economy’s system of private prices. That’s why economists call them “externalities”. Because they’re a cost to society, they’re a “negative” externality. (An example of a “positive externality” is the small benefit to the rest of us when little Janey takes herself off to uni to get an education, which she does purely for her own (private) benefit.)

In econospeak, the point of “putting a price on carbon” is to “internalise the externality”. To get it into the prices charged and paid by private sellers and buyers. Why? To give them a monetary incentive to find ways to reduce the social cost their polluting activity is imposing on us.

In the absence of a carbon price, polluting coal-fired electricity has an undesirable price advantage over non-polluting renewables electricity. This is the economic justification for government subsidy schemes for renewables electricity and household solar power systems.

But Holden and Dixon remind us that, if we introduced their Robin Hood carbon tax, those subsidies would no longer be needed, saving governments (and often, other power users) about $2.5 billion a year.

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Drought: a choice between sympathy or lasting help

What a good thing elections are. Were it not for the looming federal election – not forgetting those in Victoria and NSW – we city slickers might by now have forgotten the drought that continues to damage much of eastern Australia. Collections taken, donations given, end of.

Not so our tireless Prime Minister. Scott Morrison’s put the drought at the top of his to-do list of problems to be sorted before the election. And having fixed high electricity prices earlier in the week, on Friday he held a national drought summit, announcing a $5 billion Drought Future Fund.

From July 2020, the fund will provide grants worth up to $100 million a year for community services and research, and to assist the adoption of technology to support long-term sustainability in periods of drought.

Details yet to be decided. What it amounts to is anybody’s guess. It could be something that really would improve our farmers’ resilience to future droughts, or it could be just another slush fund for spending in National Party electorates.

The thing about droughts is that when the media eventually find out about them and start making a fuss, there’s an outpouring of concern and everyone wants to help. Individuals reach for their purse; governments want to be seen taking charge and doing the right thing by our poor stricken farmers, the salt of the earth (to quote a red-headed prince).

It’s always assumed that farmers have been hit by some unpredictable natural disaster beyond their control, the worst in years. They’ve all been hit hard, and so are desperately in need of our sympathy and support.

The trouble with this familiar, feel-good ritual is that it isn’t true. There’s nothing more predictable than that this drought will soon enough be followed by another, and one after that.

What’s more, though the Nats deny its existence, climate change means droughts are becoming more frequent and more severe, thanks to higher average temperatures – up about 1 degree since 1950 – and higher rates of evaporation.

It is possible for farmers to prepare for drought. And the truth is, most – yes, most – farmers have prepared, and as a consequence aren’t doing as badly as some. In their efforts to whip up our sympathy, the media give us an exaggerated impression of the drought’s severity, showing us the least-prepared farms rather than the best.

This matters because, as two economists from the Australian Bureau of Agricultural and Resource Economics and Sciences have written recently, “in our rush to help, we need to make sure well-meaning responses don’t do more harm than good”.

“Drought support could undermine farmer preparedness for future droughts and longer-term adaptation to climate change,” they say.

They argue that, to remain internationally competitive, our farmers need to increase their productivity, both by adopting improved technologies and management practices, and by shifting resources towards the most productive activities and the most efficient (that is, bigger) farmers.

“Supporting drought-affected farms has the potential to slow both these processes, weakening productivity growth,” they say.

Professor John Freebairn, of the University of Melbourne, notes that government drought assistance usually falls into three categories: income support for low-income farm families, subsidies for farm businesses and support for better decision-making.

The existing policy of making the equivalent of means-tested dole payments available to farmers is justified on social grounds.

But farm subsidies on loans, freight and fodder – all of which we’ve seen this time – can have unintended side effects. “Knowing that subsidies will be provided during drought . . . reduces the incentives for some farmers to adopt appropriate drought preparation and mitigation strategies,” Freebairn says.

By contrast, providing meteorological information on seasonal conditions, or hands-on education and support to individual farmers in developing more appropriate decision-making strategies, actually makes farming more robust and self-sufficient.

Suspending justified scepticism, at its best Morrison’s proposed drought future fund could go a step further and finance water infrastructure and drought resilience projects.

So, what can farmers do to make their farms more resilient to drought? Professor David Lindenmayer and Michelle Young, of the Fenner school of environment and society at the Australian National University, have plenty of ideas.

They say a key approach is to invest in improving the condition of natural assets on farms, such as shelter belts (tree lanes planted alongside paddocks), patches of remnant vegetation, farm dams and watercourses.

This increases the land’s resilience to drought, with collateral benefit to the health and wellbeing of farmers.

“When done well, active land management can help slow down or even reverse land degradation, improve biodiversity, and increase profitability,” they say.

Restored riverbank vegetation can improve dry matter production in nearby paddocks, leading to greater milk production in dairy herds and boosting farm income by up to 5 per cent.

Shelter belts can lower wind speeds and wind chill, boosting pasture production for livestock by up to 8 per cent, at the same time as providing habitat for animals and birds.

Their work with farmers in NSW who invested in their natural assets before or during the Millennium drought suggests these farmers are faring better in the present drought, they say.

“The need to invest in maintaining and improving our vegetation, water and soil has never been more apparent than it is now. We have a chance to determine the long-term future of much of Australia’s agricultural land.”

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Sensible electricity rules await the next government

You can call it populism or you can call it desperation. In the case of Scott Morrison’s recent problem-solving efforts, desperation fits better. And wouldn’t you be?

Morrison is probably right in concluding it’s too late in the piece to be worried about carefully considered, long-lasting solutions to the many problems contributing to his government’s unpopularity.

We’ll know soon enough whether his flailing efforts to apply quick fixes will be sufficient to secure his government another term in office.

But only after whichever side wins is facing a clear run of years before the next election will we see how our political class responds to the bipartisan – and world-wide – loss of faith in neoliberalism and its use of deregulation and privatisation to pursue the nirvana of Smaller Government.

Only then will it be clear whether flawed ideology has been replaced by unthinking populism as advocated by the shock jocks, or by a more realistic, more nuanced approach to intervention in markets that aren’t serving consumers well.

Meanwhile, Morrison has an election to avoid losing. If Tony Abbott hadn’t greatly compounded the problem by abolishing the carbon tax, you could feel a bit sorry for Morrison. The monumental stuff-up of the move to a national electricity market, with its price blowouts at every level – generation, transmission and distribution, and retail – was decades in the making.

Only with the doubling of retail prices over the past decade has realisation dawned that the federal government can’t escape ultimate political responsibility for a “national” market run by a squabbling committee of state and territory energy ministers.

But Morrison’s announcement last week of a desperate collection of good, bad and indifferent measures to get retail prices down in a hurry – or at least appear to be getting them down – seems no better than a crude attempt to bludgeon some quick retail price cuts out of the three oligopolists that have come to dominate the market.

As was powerfully demonstrated by the events leading to the overthrow of Malcolm Turnbull, no government whose members can’t agree that the threat of climate change is real is capable of achieving a policy regime that restores a stable future for the energy industry.

Don’t be fooled, however, by the industry apologists claiming the only real problem is the uncertainty about future governments imposing a price on carbon emissions, and the rises in the wholesale price this is now causing as coal-fired power stations die of old age without adequate replacement.

That relatively new problem accounts for little of the retail price doubling over the past decade – which is the underlying reason for the public’s anger over the cost of electricity.

Putting the blame on the inability of the two federal political sides to agree on a response to global warming sweeps under the carpet the oligopolists’ gaming of the wholesale market, the distribution industry’s gaming of its price-setting formula, and the blowout in retail margins following the state governments’ deregulation of retail prices.

Companies at the distribution and retail levels are earning rates of profit far higher than they need to cover their cost of capital and risk-bearing.

The public has every right to be up in arms, and the federal government every right to step into the mess in search of ways to reduce profitability and prices at the retail level. Particularly because what the feds would be doing is correcting years of misregulation by dysfunctional state governments.

It’s not a question of deregulation versus regulation. Electricity has always been more highly regulated than other industries and always will be. The national electricity market is, after all, a creation of government, which from day one has been (not very well) regulated by public authorities.

Rather, it’s a question of how and why you intervene to correct the mess. Whether you act carefully and reasonably to get the industry moving towards a future that’s sustainable financially and environmentally.

Any changes need to be fair, although in this the balance should err in favour of fairness to consumers (and business users) who’ve been overcharged for years. The industry can’t be allowed to use the trade union argument that their present rates of profitability are “hard-won gains” that must remain sacrosanct.

When something shouldn’t have been allowed to happen in the first place, it’s no crime to belatedly reverse it. Talk of “sovereign risk” is self-interested bulldust. You can’t have a democracy in which governments are forbidden to change course.

But none of this seems to describe Morrison’s motivations. He want price cuts, he wants them now, and he doesn’t much care what stick he waves to get them.

A word of free advice, Scott: claiming to have achieved bigger price cuts than the punters see in their quarterly bills will only make them angrier.

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