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Sunday, September 9, 2012

Elasticity of Supply and Demand



We take now a further important step in our investigation with the establishment of the fact that the degree to which supply and demand react to price changes differs on different markets. On one market a twofold increase in price results in a somewhat less than twofold increase in supply, and reduces demand somewhat less than half; on another market changes in supply and demand will exceed markedly (in quantitative terms) the price changes that have given rise to them. The elasticity of supply and the elasticity of demand are in the first case low and in the second, high. The degree of elasticity of supply and demand (coefficient of elasticity) has, in turn, a significant bearing on the character of price formation on the several markets. A simple example will make this clear.
The Christmas season is hardly a period in which we could expect that people, preoccupied as they generally are with other thoughts, would take the time to reflect on an interesting Christmas problem in economics, namely, the peculiar situation of the Christmas tree market on the day before the holiday. The first thing we find is that the elasticity of demand for Christmas trees is indubitably low. This is so because it would require a very marked rise in price to make the average family give up the idea of having a Christmas tree and, on the other hand, because it would require a very marked decrease in price to induce the average family to buy more than one. The day before Christmas, the supply of Christmas trees is inelastic too, seeing that it cannot be increased by additional cutting of trees nor diminished by putting them in storage. Twenty-four hours later the trees are no more than ordinary cut pines which can be used, at best, only as a covering for rose bushes or as firewood. The effect of this two-sided inelasticity on the Christmas tree market is clear: if there are too few trees on the market, a very marked rise in price is required to equate supply and demand; if there are too many trees a very pronounced fall in price is needed, a fall which may even reach the “firewood” point. Everyone, in fact, has had the experience of discovering that just before the holiday, Christmas trees are ordinarily either very cheap or very expensive. Supply and demand, given their inelasticity, cannot yield. Hence it is the price which must yield all the more in order to reestablish market equilibrium. The smaller is the elasticity of supply and demand, the greater is the flexibility of prices. This principle allows us to understand more precisely the characteristics of the several different kinds of market.2
Of special interest to us is the agricultural products market. Corresponding to the low elasticity of demand for food (of which we have already spoken in Chapter I), the elasticity of demand for agricultural products is generally not very high. Although we should not underestimate the elasticity of demand for the more expensive quality products of agriculture (butter, eggs, vegetables, meat, etc.), this elasticity is certainly low for the various bread grains. Since in the short run the supply of grains is also very inelastic, we can understand why as early as the 17th century an English statistician, Gregory King, could formulate the rule that the price of grains is usually subject to fluctuations greater than the corresponding harvest fluctuations (King’s rule). If the supply is too great, a sharp fall in price is needed to stimulate demand sufficiently to clear the market, and if the supply is too small an equally sharp rise in price is necessary to restrain demand sufficiently. From which it follows that the farmers, under certain circumstances, may stand to gain more from a poor harvest than from an abundant one. Proof (among others) of this fact is supplied by the American cotton farmers in the state of Alabama who in 1919 raised a monument in honor of a harmful insect, the boll weevil, in gratitude for its partial destruction of the huge price-depressing cotton crop of that year. If we add that the agricultural markets are characterized by still other anomalies, we can readily see that they represent a case apart in the formation of prices, a circumstance which confronts the agricultural policymakers with a number of crucial and important tasks.3
The labor market must also, as a rule, be considered as presenting a special and difficult type of price formation, though the laws of price can be applied to it in the same way as to the commodities market. While the elasticity of demand for labor differs in the different phases of a cyclical movement, declining to a very low point in the depression phase, the elasticity of supply, at least for the skilled trades, may be said to be decidedly low. This is so because human labor, lacking financial reserves for the most part, cannot be put in “storage” for very long. Then again, due to the time required for its training and to its great immobility, the labor force can be expanded over the short run only within narrow limits. This low elasticity of the labor supply can be increased by all sorts of politico-social measures such as aid to the unemployed which augments their “storageableness,” by retraining programs, establishment of more effective communication between the supply and demand sides of the labor market via improvements in employment agencies’ techniques, etc. The longer the period of training required for a given kind of labor, the more delayed will be the adaptation of supply to the market situation and, by the same token, the more difficult it will be. A good example of this is the academic labor market, in the several branches of which conditions of oversupply are easily changed to situations of shortage and vice versa; and we can appreciate that the advice of a wise uncle to his nephew, to study for the profession most in vogue at the moment, will remain wise advice only so long as there are not too many such uncles and nephews.
There are some special considerations respecting the elasticity of supply which merit our attention here. The most important of these is that elasticity is ordinarily smaller in the short run than in the long run. This is all the more likely to be the case the longer the time required to produce or to transport the goods to market, and the bigger the losses that would be sustained by withholding them from the market. This is why supply on the fish markets is, at any given moment, extraordinarily inelastic and subject to the caprice of demand, while from one fishing day to another, it can recover all its elasticity. The same is true for practically all the food markets—the result of which may be the appearance of vexatious disturbances and bottlenecks in such markets. Their elimination is an important task of economic policy. The stock exchanges, also, offer us examples of markets on which supply, during trading hours, is usually very inelastic, a circumstance which can occasionally lead to unexpected and possibly dangerous fluctuations in stock-market quotations. Such fluctuations are especially likely to occur when brokers are receiving from their clients a large number of orders to sell without any specification as to minimum price. In all such cases of “unlimited” supply, elasticity is reduced to zero, a phenomenon which may be observed with particular clarity at an auction (abstracting from those cases in which the owner sets the minimum bid).
The cases of totally inelastic supply, as well as of totally inelastic demand, border upon the domain of price curiosities. Also to be included in this latter category are the cases of inverse inelasticity in which supply and demand respond to price changes in a direction opposite to the usual one. It is quite possible, for example, that a fall in agricultural prices may provoke an increase rather than a reduction in cultivation as a consequence of each farmer seeking to compensate for price declines by raising his output. Official exhortations to restrict crop acreage can, in this situation, produce the opposite effect since many farmers would probably expand production in the expectation that all the other farmers would obey the official entreaties. Cases of this kind have actually occurred in the United States. A similar process may be observed on the labor market where price (wage) declines may result in increased labor productivity as each worker strives to maintain his existing income. An example of the inverse elasticity of demand is the familiar case in which an increase in prices causes an increase in demand because of speculation that prices will increase still further in the future.
Let us take note, finally, of the fact that the elasticity of demand can be used in quite another sense than that in which we have thus far used it. Having defined elasticity as the degree to which demand reacts to price changes, we may also speak of an elasticity of demand in terms of the degree to which the demand of individuals reacts to changes in their incomes. We distinguish in this case the price elasticity of demand from income elasticity of demand. This latter case involves considerations with which have already dealt.




Economics of the Free Society

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Free Prices Clear the Market










MARKETS AND PRICES
“The member of Parliament who supports every proposal for strengthening this monopoly is sure to acquire not only the reputation of understanding trade, but great popularity and influence with an order of men whose numbers and wealth render them of great importance. If he opposes them, neither the most acknowledged probity nor the highest rank, nor the greatest public services, can protect him from the most infamous abuse and detraction, from personal insults, nor sometimes from real danger, arising from the insolent outrage of furious and disappointed monopolists.”
ADAM SMITH
1. Free Prices Clear the Market
In the preceding chapters we have carried our analysis of the mechanism of our nonsocialist economic system to the point where we can now understand why the formation of prices on the different commodity markets is the process which directs and regulates the whole, a process to which every economic problem must be inevitably referred. It is now our task, proceeding from the simple to the complex, to concentrate our inquiry into this process.
The best procedure will be to take as our starting point the popular axiom which states that market price at a given moment is determined by supply and demand. In so doing we shall be making our first near approach to the problem. The axiom states that increasing supply and decreasing demand cause prices to fall, and that decreasing supply and increasing demand cause them to rise. We may express this simple and familiar relationship by saying that prices vary directly with demand and inversely with supply. Therewith we have by no means exhausted all the interconnections of supply, demand and price, however. It is important to note that not only does price depend upon supply and demand but that, conversely, supply and demand depend upon price. This dependence, too, is one with which we are all familiar. We may express it, axiomatically, by saying that supply varies directly and demand inversely with price.
These two observations lead us to a third, namely that demand, supply and price are mutually interdependent. The mechanism of price formation based on these interrelationships functions in its simplest form as follows: when there is a disparity between supply and demand, the price rises or falls until, under the counterinfluence of price, supply and demand are brought into equilibrium. The price which results is the equilibrium price which will not vary so long as the market situation does not change. This price is characterized by the fact that no seller or buyer prepared to accept it will leave the market unsatisfied. Until the price has found this level, it will continue to fluctuate. The equilibrium price is that price which clears the market. This is one of the most important and elementary of the whole body of economic principles; it should be fixed firmly and indelibly in our minds.1
A natural consequence of this elementary axiom is that the expressions “supply” and “demand” must always be used in a relative sense. A good is not simply offered or demanded, but offered or demanded in relationship to a certain price. If the price changes, supply and demand change with it. This does not mean, however, that supply and demand depend only upon price. It goes without saying that even if the price remains the same, more of a given commodity will be supplied if a technical improvement (for example) results in a lowering of its costs of production; likewise, the demand for a commodity will increase (its price remaining constant) as it grows in favor with the buying public. It remains true that supply increases with rising prices and that demand increases with falling prices, but the level at which this occurs will meanwhile have changed. It is customary to describe such movements as shifts of the supply and demand schedules (or of the curves of supply and demand). Consequently, an increase in supply may result equally from a rise in prices (the supply curve remaining unchanged), or from a shift in the supply curve (prices remaining unchanged), or from both at once; inversely, a fall in prices, or a shift in the supply curve, or a combination of both can bring about a decrease in supply. The same holds true for an increase or decrease of demand. Hence, all these expressions have a double meaning which should not be lost sight of. Our first elementary axiom applies only in the case where the curves of supply and demand are given. Should these change, a displacement of the equilibrium price takes place. If we were to seek the causes of this displacement we would be led to analyze on the one hand, every circumstance which figures in the buying public’s valuation of a good, and on the other, the manifold conditions governing supply. This would lead us into complications which, at this juncture, can only be hinted at.
The elementary relationships thus far exposed are exemplified in striking fashion in every attempt of government to establish, by decree, a price other than the equilibrium price. An example of this with which we are by now familiar is the “ceiling price” policy which, during both World Wars, attempted to prescribe a price lower than the equilibrium price. The prices of the basic subsistence goods rose in wartime as a result of inflation but also and quite naturally because supply diminished while demand increased. In this situation, the understandable but nevertheless superficial view prevailed that consumers were being arbitrarily exploited and that to put an end to this abuse it was required simply that a system of maximum prices be imposed by government fiat. The result was that the regulatory function of the free formation of prices was arrested, provoking the now familiar chain reaction in which the unsatisfied segments of demand produced first the queue and finally rationing. Simultaneously, disturbances developed on the supply side, remedies for which were sought in forcible interventions in production (compulsory deliveries of goods, compulsory crop-planting, etc.). The lesson for the future yielded by these experiments is that the mechanism of price formation is such a vital cog in the greater mechanism of our economic system that it cannot be tampered with without forcing us to enter upon a path which ends in socialism pure and simple.
The experiences with the system of maximum prices had their parallel in the results observed with the opposite system of minimum prices which was in effect following World War I. Just as the scarcity of goods during the war led to efforts to protect consumers by setting maximum prices, so too the surpluses existing in many categories of goods during the Great Depression resulted in efforts to insure producers against further sharp price declines by establishing and enforcing minimum prices. The artificially high prices which ensued prevented the clearing of the market through the lowering of supply and the augmenting of demand. The surpluses which resulted from the imposition of these artificial prices could not be disposed of other than by having the state purchase them and store them at great expense (valorization, parity price policy). And thereby hangs a tale—of woe. As was demonstrated in every instance, e.g., the valorization of Brazilian coffee, the maintenance of high prices not only prevented the adaptation of production to the market situation but, under the incentive of the prices offered by the state, actually caused an extension of production. The more the warehouses bulged, the higher rose the costs and the more the market groaned under the pressure of this latent supply. Thus it was that the valorization of Brazilian coffee, to take this one example, ended in a lamentable debacle, leaving to the state huge debts and mountains of unsold coffee, a part of which was ultimately dumped into the sea. It would be well if those who continually reproach “capitalism” for its destruction of coffee would keep in mind that it was precisely a planned-economy correction of “capitalism” which provoked this chain reaction whose end result appears, and rightly so, as so senseless.
It could perhaps be objected that an economy of minimum prices might succeed if the spade were pushed deeper and the control over supply extended to the entire apparatus of production. The objection is doubtless valid but serves only to illustrate once again the principle that interferences with the price mechanism lead to ever more drastic and extensive interferences culminating in the completely planned economy of socialism. We have also to notice that the application of the planned economy to production as, for instance, in the various species of crop control, in the rationing of output and similar measures, leads in turn to still other and greater problems. If, for example, one country restricts the production of a given commodity in order to keep its export price high, the result will be that other countries will simply increase their production of that commodity. This explains why restrictions placed on rubber cultivation in the English colonies after World War I ended in a fiasco and why, at a later date, similar consequences were observed to flow from the cotton policy of the United States.
Still other problems are generated by market interventions. Thus in agricultural production, where the above difficulties have been most in evidence, truly effective control of production is very difficult to realize so long as the whole of agriculture has not been collectivized according to the somewhat unattractive Russian model. But it is to just such a result that this whole policy can lead if the state is compelled to apply its planned-economy interferences on an ever wider scale. One circumstance, in particular, tends to accelerate this tendency, namely, that when a restriction is placed upon the production of one agricultural commodity, farmers will tend to increase the production of another by as much. In fine, disorder breeds disorder, requiring in the end an ever more comprehensive control of production according to planned-economy methods. In this situation, it would be strange if the state should not try to solve the dilemma by forcibly increasing demand just as it had forcibly restrained supply. We have, in fact, witnessed in recent decades the development of a special technique for this purpose, a notable example of which is the compulsory use of alcohol as an ingredient in motor-fuel mixtures.* If we add that the agricultural policies of many countries during recent decades have evolved along similar lines, it becomes sufficiently plain that the formation of prices is the regulator of our economic system and that it cannot be tampered with without requiring, in the end, a reconstruction of the entire economic system. It is doubtful whether all those who recommend interferences with the formation of prices appreciate the fact that the magnetic pole of such a policy lies in Moscow (and, we should have added a while back, in National Socialist Berlin). “With the first step we are free, with the second we are serfs."



Economics of the Free Society

Friday, September 7, 2012

The Combination of the Factors of Production









Under present conditions, it is usual to find the three factors of production combined with one another in every type of production. What is of especial significance in this connection is the fact that it is possible, in considerable degree, to substitute one factor of production for another (substitution of the factors of production). Agriculture, for example, can be carried on by combining a given area of land with little labor and capital (extensive agriculture) or with much labor and capital (intensive agriculture). Labor and capital, in turn, may be substituted for one another; there are many tasks which we may choose to entrust either to manual labor or to the machine. Every housewife who buys a washing machine substitutes capital for labor. Careful reflection on her part is required before deciding whether she should or should not make such a purchase. Two motives can influence her decision, one of which has already engaged our attention. We found that the purchase of a machine is warranted only insofar as there exist sufficient opportunities for its use. In calculating whether her laundry is regularly of a sufficient quantity to require the full use of a washing machine, the housewife is unconsciously employing a general principle of great significance designated commonly as the law of mass production. Using our household laundry as example we may explain this law as follows. The costs of using a washing machine fall into two large groups: the costs which increase or diminish with the amount of laundry (electricity, water, attention required, soap) and those which are given once for all as a fixed amount (interest and amortization on the washing machine). The more clothes there are to wash (the mass or amount of production) the smaller will be the costs of laundering per piece of laundry since the fixed costs are distributed over a greater number of production units.12 The last piece of laundry is thus the cheapest to do as the last passenger to board a train is, from the point of view of the railroad, the cheapest to transport. Hence the dominant consideration in purchasing a washing machine is that the household regularly furnish a sufficient amount of soiled laundry. To artificially soil the laundry for this purpose, as a kind of harmless family sport, would hardly be the ideal of good housekeeping. It would be well if this point could be driven home to those numerous individuals who strive by equally artificial means to extend the system of mass production throughout the economy.
In deciding whether to buy a washing machine, our housewife will be guided by still another consideration—the relation between the prices of the two factors of production. Where labor is less costly as compared to capital (i.e., where wages are low and interest rates high), the washing machine would prove uneconomical. Where these conditions are reversed, it will pay to use such a machine. This explains why in America many more machines are used—in the home as well as in industry and everywhere else—than in Europe, and why in Europe more machines are used than in Asia. It is for the same reason that in American agriculture, labor is much more sparingly used in relation to land and capital than is the case in Europe. In most Asian countries, labor is the cheapest of the factors while land and capital are the dearest; in the United States, labor is the dearest of the factors and land and capital the cheapest. In China, human labor is so cheap that it figures as an important source of motive power in the public transportation system (ricksha coolies). No further explanation is needed to show that in all these cases the price relationships existing among the several factors of production reflect the supply relationships of these factors in the national economy: that factor of production which is at a given moment the “scarcest” is also the dearest, and since it is the dearest it is used, perforce, sparingly. A socialist economy must be guided by similar considerations if it wishes to dispose economically of the several factors of production. A principle of primordial importance is herewith revealed, one which not only enables us to understand how the prices of the factors of production are formed (the wages of labor, the rent of land, and interest) but which also shows that the optimum combination of the factors in a given country is determined by the individual economic structure of that country. Once again we observe that what may be technically impressive is by no means always what is best economically.
It is now clear that one of the chief tasks of the organizer of production—the one who in industry is called the entrepreneur—consists in a continual search for the most advantageous combination of the factors of production. Since all producers tend to aim at this objective, they all collaborate in the formation of the prices of the factors of production. The optimum combination at any given moment is decisively influenced by the fact that the quantity of one of the factors cannot be continually increased without ultimately causing a fall in the yield due to such increase. It is this process which is meant when in agriculture we speak of a “law of diminishing returns.” This means that if to a given area of land we apply ever greater amounts of labor and capital, there occurs a fall in the rate of yield following an initially over-proportionate increase of yield. Here is a truth which everyone can verify experimentally by subjecting some hapless tomato plant to ever heavier doses of artificial fertilizer. This law applies generally to the whole of production in the sense just illustrated, viz., that the continual addition of new increments of one of the factors of production to fixed quantities of the others produces an increased yield which is at first over-proportional and then under-proportional. This is such a commonplace and undisputed principle that cooks make use of it daily. The first dose of salt that is put into a given quantity of potatoes greatly enhances their taste while the utility of succeeding doses becomes increasingly doubtful. The cook knows that there is an optimum combination of potatoes and salt. Thus we arrive at the momentous principle that for every type of production the factors must stand in a harmonious relationship to one another, since otherwise the yield of the one will develop disproportionately to the yields of the others. The average office can certainly benefit by the employment of at least one stenographer, but if the manager of that office hires a second he soon becomes aware that she is by no means as indispensable as the first, that a third stenographer would be even less valuable, etc. Their productivity declines and it is clear that the productivity of the last stenographer hired—the “marginal productivity” of this species of productive factor called labor—can hardly be higher but also hardly lower than her wage.


Economics of the Free Society

Thursday, September 6, 2012

The Factors of Production








Our admonition to regard the economic process as a whole made up of many parts is the more justified in view of the close relationship between the act of production and the act of exchange (circulation) . In this connection, the Silesian poet Logau, in the candid aphorism which we have selected as motto for this chapter, happened 300 years ago upon an economic truth which it was left to modern theory to elucidate: production is, at bottom, nothing else than a perpetual exchange transaction with Nature by which we seek to exchange on the most advantageous terms our efforts against the produced commodities. It is a transaction in which the concept of marginal utility finds just as pertinent application as in exchange in the narrower and more usual sense.7 Conversely, it may be said that exchange is nothing else than production, i.e., the procuring of goods through the making of corresponding sacrifices. Production and exchange are similar in that both require certain expenditures to obtain a good: indeed, the whole meaning of the social division of labor resides in this, that it permits each of us to choose the most economical way of procuring needed goods. That is the whole secret of the division of labor, especially of the international division of labor, which many find it so hard to understand.
Of what then do the expenditures made in production consist? If we push our inquiry still farther back, we find that all these expenditures may be traced finally to three categories of production elements (factors of production) which in turn are not further divisible: labor, land, and capital.
Of these three factors of production, labor requires the least explanation. There is no need to define it for it is clear to everyone that labor is the really active and directing element in production. So preeminently important is this factor that it is easy to understand the constantly repeated efforts to make it the sole factor of production and of costs. At all events, we must keep ever in mind that the concept “labor” is to be taken in a sense sufficiently large to encompass all human activity, intellectual as well as physical, directive as well as directed. Thus, the activity of an entrepreneur must be there included. It follows further that the labor factor of production will fall into numerous sub-classes, each of these possessing its own market, its own wage scale, its own special features. Moreover, these individual labor markets will not necessarily stand in close relationship to one another.8
Similarly, little difficulty is experienced in comprehending the significance of land (or Nature in general) as a factor of production. Its role in production is characterized by the fact that it serves simultaneously as a location (cf. Chapter III, Note 1) and as a reservoir of the raw materials and the energy which lie dormant in the land. The latent energy and the raw materials of the earth, to the exploitation of which primary organic production (agriculture, forestry, fishing) and primary inorganic production (mining) are devoted, comprise the final and most basic sources of mankind’s supply of goods. In common with the labor factor of production, land exhibits the special characteristic of not forming a homogeneous mass but of falling (according to its location or to its varying content of raw materials) into innumerable sub-classes. The location of the land is of especial importance because, in contrast to the other factors of production, land is immovable: Mohammed must, in truth, always go to the mountain.
Labor and land are things easily grasped, their importance is self-evident and their role in production is clear. Everyone knows that they are indispensable, that they represent ultimate elements of production which are not reducible to any further common denominator. But what about the factor of production we call capital? Here begin the difficulties.
Let us start with a fairly simple situation in which capital will figure—the production of grain. When we say that for this purpose we require capital in addition to land and labor, what do we mean? Concretely, we visualize the following requirements: tools, draft animals, seed, fertilizer, farm buildings, machines, and lastly, a supply of foodstuffs (subsistence fund) to be consumed during the time which elapses between sowing and harvesting. This is a roundabout way of expressing the fact that man cultivates the land not only with the bare strength of his arms but with all sorts of auxiliary means as well. But what is the justification for regarding these auxiliary means as a third independent factor of production? Cannot all such items be subsumed under labor and land? For example, a plough contains wood and iron and its manufacture requires the expenditure of a certain amount of labor. The truth is, however, that the plough contains still a third component whose presence, though not immediately visible, can be ascertained by a process of deduction. Let us assume that the farmer makes the plough himself and that in consequence he will have to employ a part of his time in the production of a plough instead of in the production of food. For the farmer, this entails a diminishment of his current supply of consumption goods. As long as he is engaged in making the plough, either he will eat less or he will live from a supply of foodstuffs which he has previously stored up. Should he choose the latter alternative, he will still have had, during some former period, to reduce his consumption in an amount corresponding to his present stock of such foodstuffs. This restriction of consumption pays for itself in the future, however, for a plough, compared with primitive forms of cultivation, will result in an enormous increase in yield. Thus we see that the production of a plough requires not only the combined services of land and labor but a further essential condition—the restriction, in one form or another, of consumption. It is only after this current sacrifice is compensated in the future by the larger yield obtained thanks to the plough that the balance, so to speak, is struck. Until then, the farmer is obliged to wait for the rewards due to his work and to his restriction of consumption. We arrive at the same result if we come somewhat closer to reality and assume that the farmer does not make the plough himself but orders it made by the smith. The smith is then paid in money which the farmer could otherwise have used to buy consumption goods.
By this renunciation of complete enjoyment at the present moment in favor of the future, i.e., by “waiting,” capital acquires the character of an independent factor of production, a factor which cannot be subsumed under either land or labor. Since present supplies can be diminished in favor of the future only within fixed limits, the capital factor of production is always scarce. This is a point of the greatest importance and one which has to be borne constantly in mind. Were it not for this fact, it would be difficult to understand why all the scythes in the world have not long since been replaced by mechanical reapers, all the sewing needles by sewing machines, all bicycles by automobiles, and all streetcars by subways. Hence it is that we are obliged to pay a price for this scarce “something” just as we do for butter or for string, and this price is nothing other than interest.
“Waiting,” the essential ingredient of the capital factor of production, may take different forms. The form it takes in the case of the (purchased) plough is clear. The money which has been “put” into the plough has been withheld from current consumption uses and the farmer must wait until the extra yield obtained with the plough offsets the amount of his investment. The same principle is involved in building a house where the landlord must wait until the sum of his rents equals the costs of constructing the house. In either case we have to do with that kind of “waiting” which is associated with the investment of capital (fixed capital). The purpose of this capital investment is to provide means of production which are to be used over several production periods. But the farmer must take into account still another kind of waiting. Between the plowing and the seeding of the soil and the sale of the harvest stretches a period of several months: in autumn, there are expenditures for labor, seed, and fertilizer which are recovered only after the sale of crops in the summer of the following year. In the meantime, the farmer and his family must live; he must, therefore, have either a supply of consumption goods in reserve or a sum of money for the purchase of such consumption goods. Here again, a period of waiting is involved, but waiting of a different character than that which we observed in the first instance. The farmer must await repayment (for the duration of the period of production) not only for the labor, raw materials, and auxiliary equipment used in the process of production but also for the consumption goods required during this process (subsistence fund). Waiting of this type involves the use of what is termed working capital (circulating capital). The relation of fixed capital to working capital is the same as that of a meat-grinding machine to the meat which is put through it.
Naturally, it is not required that the producer himself do the “waiting.” By obtaining a loan he can, in effect, shift the burden of waiting onto the shoulders of some other person, the latter receiving his indemnification in the form of interest. Depending upon the kind of “waiting” involved, the credit thus obtained is either an investment credit or an operating credit. The possibility of obtaining such a credit obviously changes nothing with respect to the fact that for the capital thus supplied someone must undergo a period of “waiting,” of adjournment of his consumption irrespective of whether this occurs in some sector of the national economy or—as in the case of an international transfer of capital—of the world economy.
We can now see from the very fulness of explanation which it requires that capital is set off from the other two factors of production by a number of peculiarities. It is these peculiarities which make the analysis of capital one of the most difficult problems of economics.9 Part of the difficulty derives from the circumstance that capital, differently from land and labor, is subject to quantitative changes effected by human decisions and economic considerations. The quantity is increased in a process known as the formation of capital and is diminished by the consumption of capital.10 Here it should be observed that a certain fixed amount of capital is available to the economy at any given moment; this amount can be increased within a given period of time, but only within certain limits. There is a way, of course, of stretching these limits and of forcibly increasing the quantity of capital, viz., through credit expansion. But an increase of capital which is effected by such a radical method is ordinarily purchased at the cost of a subsequent crisis.11
Finally, we must touch briefly on that aspect of capital which renders it so repugnant to the adversaries of our capitalist system, the socialists, and one to which we too cannot remain indifferent. This is the circumstance that capital is not only an elementary factor of production but, in its current context, also a source of private income for which apparently no services are rendered in return. Both notions must be kept rigorously distinct, however. Saying that capital is an indispensable factor of production does not imply that we are taking a position on the question of who should own this factor of production. The first point is uncontested whereas perennial controversy rages around the question of the ownership of capital. Naturally, even a socialist state cannot do without capital as a factor of production since in a socialist state, as in any other, it will be necessary to economize so that worn-out machines can be replaced and new ones built. The Russian Five Year Plan is nothing if not such a socialist method of creating capital on a colossal scale. It is not the use of capital which distinguishes the socialist from the capitalist economy, but only the fact that this capital, under socialism, belongs to the state. But we must not imagine that we have refuted socialism simply because we can show that capital is necessary even in a socialist state. No serious socialist questions the necessity of capital; what he demands is that it belong to the “community.” Whether this demand is reasonable or not is a question we have reserved for discussion in another place.

Economics of the Free Society

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Economic Process as a Whole





We have now managed to marshal practically all the data which we need to acquire understanding of the individual parts of the economic process. By making a number of simplifying assumptions, in particular, that the social division of labor and the price system are the dominant features of the economic system and that we are concerned with a “closed economy” (one, i.e., without foreign trade), we may picture the operation of the economy in global terms as follows. There is, first, production in the broad sense of that activity which makes available the largest quantities and most numerous kinds of goods possible. Following our previous assumption, this total output is then exchanged on the several markets and its value determined by means of price formation (circulation of goods). The formation of prices, in turn, determines by way of the formation of income that share of the total output which accrues to each individual (distribution). Finally, these shares are used or consumed by the individual economic units. What we have done thus far is to list the several parts of the economic process in their logical order, a procedure which does not imply their successive occurrence in time. We do not suggest, for example, that during a given period of time goods are produced, are later apportioned to the recipients by circulation and distribution, and are finally consumed. In reality, all of these operations take place simultaneously. The economic process is thus a simultaneous process and one in which all the parts are intimately connected to each other and conditioned by each other. This network—which represents a major difficulty in the understanding of theoretical economics—will become even more apparent in the course of the subsequent analysis.
To simplify our inquiry, we have thus far admitted a number of hypotheses, the first of these being that the total output (gross national product) of the economy equals the total supply of the economy in a given time period. This follows naturally from our admission that the whole of production enters the market. But since the producers buy each other’s products, the gross national product (i.e., total supply) must, in a state of equilibrium, also equal total demand. If in any considerable degree this is not the case, we are then faced with that total disturbance of the economy known as a crisis. It is a truism, moreover, that the gross national product is always equal to the gross income of the economy during the period in question. The latter we may define, initially, as the sum of the various money incomes, incomes which are converted into real goods only by the exchange of “vouchers” acceptable in the “general store” of the national economy; in other words, incomes are converted into goods by market demand. We must, therefore, distinguish between the formation of income and the use of income. But here again we must reckon with the possibility of a twofold disturbance. In the first place, the expenditure (use) of income may be retarded because income earners may hesitate a long time before spending their money (deceleration of the speed of circulation of money, hoarding, deflation) . Secondly, the expenditure of income may not correspond to the actual composition of output. In such case, the producers have produced at cross purposes. In this connection, it is necessary to direct attention to the three ways in which income may be used: (1) to obtain goods for immediate use (consumption); (2) to obtain producer goods for the maintenance of the productive apparatus (replacement); (3) to obtain producer goods for the purpose of expanding the productive apparatus (accumulation of capital). This division of the different kinds of income use must correspond, in a state of equilibrium, to the composition of the national output. Otherwise, we shall again have to reckon with the emergence of a state of disequilibrium (crisis). But this is a discussion we have reserved for a special chapter.
One of the most fruitful results of the above analysis will have been to put us on our guard against regarding any one part of the economic process as autonomous and given. All the components of this process are joined together, all are interdependent: supply and demand, producers and consumers, production and purchasing power, the formation and the use of income. For the beginner, nothing is more difficult than to visualize this total process in concrete terms; nothing is more difficult than the job of making it clear to him and, by the same token, nothing is more important than the understanding of this process.4
The analysis of the total economic process by manipulation of the gross magnitudes of the economy—macroeconomics as it is now termed in contrast to microeconomic theory which will concern us in the following chapter on “Markets and Prices”—is as old as economics itself. Heavy emphasis on macroeconomics is a characteristic mark of the economic thought of recent decades, a result primarily of the experience of the Great Depression (1929-1933). The ever greater refinement of macroeconomic concepts and the rise of a self-contained national income theory has been accompanied, as well, by an increasingly successful use of statistics to measure the actual global movements of the economy in the course of a year. The usefulness of such calculations is undeniable. But there are also unmistakable dangers connected with the use of the new techniques. They can be avoided only where there is awareness of the limitations of this kind of analysis.5
In our analysis of the economic process thus far, we have assumed a “closed economy”; that is to say we have deliberately ignored the actual connection of the domestic economy with the rest of the world. If we now relax this assumption, we find that the domestic economy is joined to the world economy by a multitude of transactions and activities involving the exchange of goods and services, and of a corresponding number of payments made to foreign countries and received from them. This connection may be clearly seen and statistically measured by grouping the various foreign transactions and payments of a nation under several principal headings, somewhat in the manner of a firm’s balance sheet. The balance of payments of a country is so constructed as to show payments (in domestic currency) received from abroad on the plus or credit side of the balance, and payments to foreign countries on the debit or minus side of the balance. The principal categories of such a balance of payments are: (1) the savings account which shows the net total yield (+ or—) of (1) the merchandise account (the “balance of [visible] trade”), (2) the services account (tourism, transportation, insurance, banking services, copyright payments, etc.), (3) the investment income account (dividends and interest received from abroad or paid to abroad), (4) unilateral transfers (receipts or payments); (II) the investment account which shows the total of capital investments by foreigners in the domestic economy and total investments by domestic residents in other countries; (III) the cash account which shows the increase or decrease in a country’s holdings of foreign exchange and/or gold. This yields the following scheme in which the plus or minus sign in each case indicates whether the transaction in question is to be assigned to the credit or debit (active or passive) side of the balance of payments.

I. The Savings Account
1.   The balance of trade (visible)
(a)   merchandise exports (+)
(b)   merchandise imports (–)
2. The services account
(a)   services of residents to foreigners, also called “invisible exports” (+)
(b)   services of foreigners to residents, also called “invisible imports” (–)
3. The investment income account
(a)   dividends and interest received from abroad (+)
(b)   dividends and interest paid abroad (–)
4. Unilateral transfers (aid and gifts)
II. The Investment Account
1. Capital imports (+)
2. Capital exports (–)
III. The Cash Account
1. Increase of monetary reserves (–)
2. Decrease of monetary reserves (+)

It is clear that a net surplus yielded by the algebraic sum of the items in any of the above categories may be offset by a net deficit in another category (or categories). Thus in the balance of payments of Switzerland for the year 1959, the large net deficit in the (visible) trade balance was offset by a still larger net surplus yielded by the other items in the Savings Account so that this account as a whole showed a substantial surplus (+ 758 million Swiss francs). This surplus in turn was offset partly by a net debit in the investment account (excess of capital exports over capital imports) and partly in an increase of Swiss monetary reserves. Different was the situation yielded by the West German balance of payments for 1960 in which both the Savings Account and the Investment Account closed with large net credits. The Savings Account was “active” because of the extremely large (favorable) balance of (visible) trade which more than offset the large deficit on services account. The Investment Account yielded a net surplus because of the substantial excess of capital imports over capital exports. The net surplus resulting from the sum of the Savings Account and the Investment Account was offset in turn by a debit on cash account, that is, by a correspondingly large increase in Germany’s monetary reserves (of almost DM 8 billion [about $2 billion]). In this growth of German monetary reserves was reflected the aforementioned (p. 106) “imported inflation.”
It is evident that in the evaluation of the balance of payments position, the greatest caution is indicated. The “activity” or “passivity” of the individual items in the several accounts signify relatively little, as we have seen; what is significant is the net position yielded by the sum of all the accounts. But here too circumspection in passing judgment is required.6 Even to speak of an “active (favorable) or passive (unfavorable or adverse) balance of payments makes for difficulty since such a balance, like a firm’s balance sheet, always balances in the sense that the algebraic sum of the credits and debits necessarily equals zero (for every credit there must be an offsetting debit, and vice versa).
To qualify the balance of payments as active or passive has meaning only to the extent that we abstract from the balance of payments as an accounting device and omit certain accounts (the offsetting ones) in order to focus attention on the disposition of others. Customarily, the cash account is neglected in determining whether the balance of payments is active or passive; it is said to be active (or in surplus) when the algebraic sum of all the accounts except the cash account yields a net surplus, and passive (or in deficit) in the converse case in which the sum of all the accounts except the cash account yields a net deficit. Alternately, one may focus attention solely on the cash account, qualifying the balance of payments as active when monetary reserves increase and passive when they decline. But even here it is not necessarily true that an active balance of payments is something good and a passive balance something bad. Indeed, an active balance of payments can represent a danger for the economy as shown in the example of the imported inflation in West Germany and in other European countries at the present writing (1962). Conversely, a passive balance of payments of a certain duration and amount can serve to restore a disturbed equilibrium of international payments.
It is under no circumstances permissible, however, to see in an active balance of payments the proof of the riches and capital wealth of a country nor in a passive or deficitary balance of payments proof of the poverty and capital insufficiency of an economy. The activity or passivity of the balance of payments involves merely the external equilibrium of an economy (which is, in turn, primarily dependent on monetary factors), not the quantity of commodities and real capital of which it disposes. For years West Germany achieved balance of payments surpluses because it was a comparatively cheap country, but West Germany was made not one penny richer on that account. The United States has suffered for years from a balance of payments deficit, thanks chiefly to the wage policies of American labor unions, and has become a comparatively expensive country. But the United States is today far richer than it was when the world still suffered from a “dollar shortage.” France, too, was not poor and insolvent because it suffered from a passive balance of payments thanks to the financial mis-economy of the Fourth Republic. And France did not become rich and solvent overnight merely because the De Gaulle government changed the international value of the franc, put an end to inflation, and thereby converted the balance of payments deficit into a surplus.





Economics of the Free Society

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Essence of Production




Of the many heads under which we can classify goods, there is one which takes precedence over all others. The essential note of an economic good is its scarcity in the sense with which we have now become familiar. For certain goods, this scarcity is immediately given, viz., for those goods which cannot be increased by production. Such are the paintings of the old masters or rare vintage wines. The true significance of this category of scarce goods will become clear to us when we consider that it includes such important and irreplaceable goods as land (though pedants might insist that land can be increased in quantity by building dikes to wrest it from the sea). And then there is the most important and productive good of all-human labor power. Certainly, it cannot be “produced” in the ordinary sense of the word. In contradistinction to these goods whose scarcity is immediately and unalterably given, there is the great mass of goods which can be increased by production, a circumstance which, as we have seen, does not preclude their possessing the quality of scarceness, but is of sufficient importance to merit our close study.
If the concept “good” must be understood in a very broad sense, so also must the concept production. This point must be particularly insisted upon since the layman is always quick to classify as unproductive every activity which does not immediately serve for the production of material goods, especially trade and transportation. To make this point unambiguously clear, let us consider the following: production is never a new creation of matter, but only the creation of a “good,” just as consumption is never the annihilation of matter but only the annihilation of a “good.” Production cannot add a single atom to the existing quantity of matter but only transforms matter in such wise that it is capable of satisfying a given want. Hence, all production is really only the transformation, the refinement, and the combining of matter, and this applies not only to so-called primary production (agriculture, fishing, forestry, mining, etc.) but also to commercial-industrial production. What is after all the purpose of mining if not to transport to a suitable place material found in an unsuitable place—in other words, to change its location? Hence production is, broadly interpreted, the process of making economic goods available; its quiddity is economic, not technical. The railroad “produces” as does also the merchant, the hotel-keeper, the clerk, the actor. Even a speculator is a producer insofar as he fulfills an economically useful function, and is not to be confused with the unproductive individual who merely exploits the available opportunities for reaping unearned profit.2
These considerations are illustrated in the following example. We have seen that the production of coal is nothing else, at bottom, than a change in its location. Coal is of no use to the inhabitants of West Virginia so long as it has not been brought to the surface. Nor is West Virginian coal which has been brought to the surface of any use to the inhabitants of Pittsburgh until it has been transported to that city. What mysterious difference is there between the vertical and the horizontal movement of coal? To satisfy a want, a good must not only exist as such, but it must be in the place where it is demanded. Moreover, it must be in that place at the time when it is demanded. And there are a number of other requirements which we as consumers ordinarily expect “goods” to meet: we prefer goods to be available in a wide range of choices; we expect not to have to become connoisseurs in order to be able to rely on the quality of the goods we buy; and we attached increasing value to customer conveniences, to elegant shops, courteous service, attractive packaging, home deliveries, and many other things. All these things, of course, the manufacturer can undertake to do and, in fact, often does (shoe shops run by shoe manufacturers). Nevertheless, in these instances as elsewhere, the principle of the division of labor has proved its worth: most such accessory operations are better performed by enterprises specialized for the purpose. Trade, transportation, and speculation fulfill these intermediate “service” functions. Their apparently autonomous character should not be permitted to obscure the fact that they are really “producing” utilities and services without which the material goods would have for us little or no value. Such enterprises are, indeed, no less “productive” than those concerned with producing material goods. To wax indignant over the difference between the factory price and the retail price (“retail markup”) is no more rational than to complain of a “manufacturing markup,” i.e., of the increase in the value of the product added within the factory. This does not exclude the possibility that in both cases avoidable costs and wasteful practices will be present, but these are defects which can be most effectively eliminated by competition of greater or lesser degree. If, in recent years, the retail markup has noticeably increased in many sectors of the economy, this merely expresses the fact that we attach increasing value to such ancillary activities.
Much confusion is generated on the above point by continually contrasting the distribution function of trade with production per se. The distinction is certainly not fallacious but it must not be forgotten that the distribution of goods appertains equally to production, since it represents a function which is distinct and separate from others and is compensated as such. Unfortunately, the word distribution is also used in quite another sense, namely, in the sense of a distribution of income, i.e., the distribution of individual claims on the social product by way of the formation of income. The distribution of goods by trade is a part of production, but, in consequence of the income which he acquires thanks to his distribution function, the merchant, as all other producers, participates in the process of income formation and income distribution. Since we are here dealing with two entirely different things, it would seem preferable to employ different expressions for them and to find some other word for the less abstract concept of goods distribution.




Economics of the Free Society

Monday, September 3, 2012

The Social Product and the National Income



THE WORLD OF GOODS AND THE FLOW OF PRODUCTION

“The world is like a shop stocked full of goods. They are on sale for work—toil may buy them.”*
FRIEDRICH VON LOGAU (1604-1655)

1. The Social Product and the National Income

Now that we have studied the structure of the division of labor and discovered in money the indispensable auxiliary of that division of labor, let us go a step further and examine more closely the process which unfolds on these bases, namely, how goods are supplied and distributed.
Let us emphasize at once that the concept “economic good” must be understood in a very broad sense; i.e., it includes all those things which serve as means for satisfying wants. In our economic system these are things for which, as a rule, a price must be paid. Hence, this concept embraces not only material goods as such, but also a wide variety of services (a lawyer’s counsel, a physician’s examination, a scholar’s lecture, a singer’s concert) and a final category that may be grouped under the loose designation of “rights and relationships” (right to use a dwelling, patents and copyrights, a physician’s practice, the “goodwill” of a firm, etc.). The criterion of price does not always suffice to characterize an economic good. This is especially true in respect to those collective goods which, as in the case of measures taken to ensure internal and external security (e.g., protection against epidemics), satisfy a collective need. These goods the state “produces” and distributes according to the system of collective economy. Thus the work done by a civil servant is an economic good albeit there is no “market” for it. Indeed, it is because of this very circumstance, as we have shown previously (Chapter II, Note 5), that we cannot always be sure that such a “good” answers to a general need.
A procedure which proves useful on several counts is to consider, in concrete terms, the total output of goods and services produced by the nation in a given period of time, say a year. This total yearly output we may term the social product (or gross national product), a helpful abstraction of which we shall make use frequently henceforth. It should be remarked that the total of available goods is not identical with the total of consumable goods. A large part of the gross national product is composed not of consumption goods, but of producer goods (capital) which serve for the maintenance of the apparatus of production (renovation, replacement) and also for the extension of that apparatus (expansion, net investment, accumulation of capital). To determine the net national output (i.e., the supply of commodities and services which constitute a real addition to the national economy and which are over and above those required to maintain the productive apparatus intact), we must subtract from the total output (gross product) those goods and services needed for replacement purposes. This subtraction we may designate as “the costs of doing business.” Anyone who has ever figured out an income tax will know what this means. An economy in which reserves are not built up to the necessary extent would “eat” its capital; it would “feed on its own substance.” Its productive apparatus would fall, bit by bit, into a state of disrepair and, as a consequence, national output would become smaller and smaller in the future. This, in fact, is what occurred in many countries during and after both World Wars.
Just as we designate as personal income what remains at our disposal after subtracting our costs of doing business, so too may we regard national income. If this national income is represented in terms of goods and not of money, it is identical with the net national output. Hence, national income may be determined from a study of gross output statistics. In practice, however, it is customary to calculate the national income in another way, viz., by adding together personal incomes, a fact which gives rise to several instructive considerations. For example, do the monthly allowances given to students by their parents figure in the national income? Obviously not, since what may be included under national income are only those incomes arising from the actual production of goods, services, and utilities of whatever kind. Such incomes are a kind of monetary reflection of a corresponding addition to the total of real goods (original income). Clearly, we may not include in the total income those incomes which represent merely transfers of original income (derived income). Otherwise, we would be making the mistake of counting the same thing twice. On the same reasoning, we would not be counting the same thing twice were we to include in the national income the incomes of the household domestic and the government clerk since these incomes result from the “production” of immaterial goods, proof of the demand for which is the fact that they have been paid for.1 These reflections underscore the broad interpretation which must be given to such concepts as “good” and “productive” if we wish to grasp the essence of economics.



Economics of the Free Society

Sunday, September 2, 2012

The Purchasing Power of Money and Its Measurement


Implicit in the preceding section are a number of exceptionally complex problems which we must seek to make explicit, at least. Even the concept of the purchasing power of money—called also the “value of money”—is a problematical one. In contrast to ordinary goods, money, the good in terms of which the prices of the “ordinary” goods are expressed, has itself no price, at least within the area in which it circulates as money. Outside of this area, it cannot logically be used as money, so that the price at which it sells on currency markets in terms of the monetary units of other payment areas (exchange rate) represents not the price of money considered as money but of money considered as merchandise. As an indicator of the “value” of money, the exchange rate is consequently of no use to us, no more than the fact that for one dollar we can obtain one hundred cents. For help in this problem, we must turn to another concept, viz., that the purchasing power of money is a function of the height of the price level; or in other words that it is a reflection of the average rate at which goods and money exchange for one another. If prices rise, the purchasing power of money falls; if prices fall, the purchasing power of money rises. However, every rise in an individual price is not equivalent to a fall in the purchasing power of money. A genuine fall in the purchasing power of money will take place only if there is an average rise in prices all along the line, a rise in the “general price level.” Otherwise, we have to do simply with a rise in the prices of some goods, not with a depreciation of money. The purchasing power    of money can be measured, therefore, only by the average “bundle” of goods and services that can be bought for a monetary unit.
But such a definition does not advance us much, as the following illustration will show. As it happens, our forbears in antiquity have left us the interesting piece of information that the construction of the Propylaea on the Acropolis in Athens cost a little more than 2,000 gold talents. Was this dear or cheap? Naturally, the talent is not negotiable on the exchanges of our day, but on the basis of its gold content we can establish that a sum of 2,000 talents would be equivalent to about 4,000,000 gold dollars. But was the purchasing power of the 2,000 talents equal to that of 4,000,000 gold dollars? We must admit that we are completely in the dark about this. It is possible that in ancient Athens, bread and eggs were much cheaper than they are today in New York or London; on the other hand, some things were probably more expensive than they are today, some, indeed, infinitely more expensive—things which all the gold in antiquity could not buy for the simple reason that they did not exist. Such were the radio, the telephone, electricity, and other goods upon which we moderns place such great value. Since the composition of demand has completely changed, we lack the means of comparing the purchasing power of money of those times with that of our own. Moreover, comparisons of purchasing power cannot be made unless we know the relative importance of each item in that average or typical “bundle” of goods of which we have spoken, and this relative importance of the different items varies in the course of the years. Hence, historical comparisons of purchasing power are always matters of conjecture, more or less. Furthermore, since the relative importance of each commodity varies not only from century to century but also from country to country, comparisons of the value of money are exceedingly difficult to make not only in time but also in space. True, we hear talk of expensive countries and cheap countries, and there is no denying that with an equal sum of money a traveler may be better off in one country than in another. But it is only with serious qualifications that we can accept the flat assertion that four German marks have the same purchasing power as one United States dollar.* Many who have spent longer periods of time in the one and in the other country, and whose scales of preferences differ, may rightly question the validity of such parities, proving once again how questionable are all such calculations of average purchasing power.
The extremely problematical character of such average estimates may be seen in an analogous kind of measurement. Every skier knows that meteorological data describing the snow as being of a depth of so and so many inches will often be unreliable; violent winds or a hot sun may have left his favorite slopes bare of snow. The practice of announcing the average fall of snow is not, for all that, devoid of utility. But if we would really like to establish what the average fall is, we should eventually have to measure the depth of the snow in all locations and to reduce to an average these numerous particular data. But even then we would have omitted to consider a fact of especial interest to skiers, namely, that though some slopes may be superbly covered, there will be others completely denuded of snow. Measurement of the snowfall in all places is patently impossible, but another possibility remains. We can content ourselves with measuring the fall of snow in fifty places, and with these partial measurements estimate the average fall, taking into account the area covered at a given height by the snowfall. In other words, we use a practicable number of particular measurements and then “weigh” the results according to their importance. This is exactly the way in which we attempt to estimate the average level of prices (and the variations from it) : we ascertain this level by means of so-called index numbers. We are now aware, however, that there is a certain arbitrariness which enters into all such calculations.14 This arbitrariness, we may add, is limited in its effects, being of less importance the greater is the change in the value of money. For example, during the German inflation, the crudest index numbers still served their purpose. Vice versa, a change in the value of money can be unambiguously determined only when the change is one of large degree.
If the concept of the purchasing power of money is problematical, the supposed connection between the purchasing power of money and the quantity of money, of which we have already made mention, is equally so. It does not detract from the fundamental truth of the quantity theory of money to add that there are features of this theory which are, to say the least, highly problematical.15 As it is hardly possible to give here even a brief description of the more doubtful aspects of the quantity theory, we shall content ourselves with two important observations. We should note, in the first place, that the quantity of money is not the sole determinant of its purchasing power. It is clear that if the quantity of money remains the same while the quantity of goods offered for sale varies, the purchasing power of money will vary correspondingly. Secondly, it is clear that it is not simply the quantity of money which determines purchasing power but only that fraction of it which is actually spent in a given period. If the rate at which money is expended (velocity of circulation) increases, the effects on the purchasing power of money will be the same as those caused by an increase in the quantity of money, velocity remaining unchanged.16 Thirdly, particular attention should be directed to the fact that the connection between the quantity of money and its purchasing power is less and less problematical the greater is the change in purchasing power. The greater the degree of monetary depreciation, the simpler becomes the analysis of its causes. In the macroscopic proportions of the great German inflation (192023), even the crudest form of the quantity theory which attributed the depreciation of the mark only to the gigantic increase in the money supply fitted the facts immeasurably better than those explanations which sought to ascribe the blame to other factors, in particular to Germany’s then “passive” (unfavorable) balance of payments.


Economics of the Free Society

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Inflation and Deflation





The foregoing description of credit creation and of the problems generated by this process has shown us how important it is that the economic system be assured of monetary stability. We also learned how difficult it is to prevent those monetary diseases (inflation and deflation) which destroy this stability. Let us begin by setting forth the nature of the problem as realistically as we can. Let us suppose that, in the year 1913, a dentist made a wager with his patient that the price of the gold filling he was about to insert would follow the general rise in prices which was then getting under way. The dentist, of course, would have lost his wager; a quick glance at his files on his previous gold purchases could have told him as much. For the simple and ingenious coupling mechanism of the gold standard, by defining the monetary unit as a fixed weight of gold, tied gold to money in such wise that the price of gold remained stable though all other prices fluctuated.
A contrasting and yet equally illuminating experience is one which was recounted to the author by a lady of his acquaintance. She showed him a magnificent belt of wrought silver which she acquired in India on a visit there with her husband towards the end of the last century. She explained proudly that she had got a wonderful bargain inasmuch as the native jeweler had demanded for his silver belt neither more or less than its weight in silver rupees. Had she not thereby gotten the exquisite handiwork for nothing? In truth, the lady’s satisfaction in her bargaining ability was premature for at the time of her visit the pure silver standard in India had been replaced by a blocked silver standard. When the Indian government discontinued the free coinage of silver, silver became scarcer in minted form than in unminted form; the bonds linking money to a precious metal, corresponding to those of the gold standard, had been broken, causing the mint value of the silver rupee to exceed considerably the value of silver itself. The rupee became a kind of metal bank note whose scarcity was determined not by the production of silver but by the decision of the issuing government. To underscore the moral of this story, we have only to visualize a transaction wherein a purchaser of visiting cards is required to pay a quantity of paper money equal to the weight of the cards.
And now a third illustration which takes us from the gold standard and the blocked silver standard to paper money. More than a quarter of a century ago, an astonishing and ingenious crime was committed which resulted in the institution of a most interesting civil suit. A band of international swindlers succeeded in convincing the well-known London firm of Waterlow & Sons, engravers of postage stamps and bank notes, that they were the representatives of the Central Bank of Portugal come to place an order for the printing of a large quantity of Portuguese bank notes. The order was duly filled and the bank notes delivered to the swindlers. When the fraud was finally discovered, the Bank of Portugal caused all of its extant notes (of whose genuineness there was, naturally, no question) to be withdrawn from circulation and replaced with a new issue. Since it proved impossible to catch the criminals, the Bank of Portugal sued Waterlow & Sons, demanding that the engraving firm make good the losses resulting from the issue of the fraudulent notes. The English courts presently discovered that the case involved issues of unusual subtelty and complexity, adjudication of which necessitated the admission of testimony by leading monetary theorists. The question before the courts was: how great were the actual losses incurred by the Bank of Portugal? If it had been postage stamps instead of bank notes in which the swindlers had trafficked, it is perfectly clear that the loss of the Portuguese government would have equaled the total value of the stamps. With respect to the bank notes, however, no such simple calculation could be made. Among the many questions which troubled the experts the following stand out as particularly relevant to our study: would the Bank of Portugal have issued the same amount of notes even if the swindlers had not done so? If not, was the increase in the supply of money resulting from the introduction of the fraudulent notes good or bad for Portugal? The answer to this question would depend on whether the circulation of the fraudulent notes disrupted the orderly processes of the Portuguese economy looking to the regulation of the volume of money; it would depend, in other words, on whether the additional notes served to avert an otherwise imminent deflation, or whether they resulted in an inflation. If the first supposition were true, then the swindlers would have unintentionally done a favor to Portugal. These and other considerations did, in fact, influence the highest English court to award the Bank of Portugal only a fraction of the damages it had claimed.*
What lessons are contained in these three illustrations? They point to the truth of at least these three principles: (1) the value of money is determined by its relative scarcity; (2) monetary policy has no more important task than to regulate this scarcity in such wise that the value of money remains as stable as possible; (3) this task can be accomplished in different ways. Under a gold standard (or a silver standard with free coinage of fully-valued coins), the scarcity of money is automatically fixed by the scarcity of the standard metal. This, in turn, is affected primarily by the quantity of the metal which is produced in a given period. Such relationships are characteristic of so-called tied monetary standards under which money is linked securely to a precious metal with the regulation of the quantity of money being a function and a reflection of variations in the quantity of the precious metal. Under the “blocked” silver standard and, a fortiori, under the paper standard, the quantity of money is independent of the quantity of the precious metal and is regulated by the arbitrary decree of the government (free or manipulated standard). The determination of whether the control of the quantity of money should be submitted to the automatic forces of gold and silver production or to the conscious decree of the government is one of the cardinal problems confronting those entrusted with the making of monetary policy and upon the answer to which depends the choice of the particular monetary system in each case. A liberal—one [in Europe] who puts his trust in economic laws rather than in the whims of government—will generally opt for the tied or automatic standard. A collectivist—one who is willing to trust the caprice of the government over natural economic forces—will prefer the untied or manipulated standard. Since, however, the linking of money to a precious metal implies a much stricter control over the quantity of money than can be expected from arbitrary government regulation, we find that, paradoxically, it is the [European] liberal who, in money matters at least, demands a discipline far stricter than the collectivist.
It is, indeed, not surprising that the liberal should attach such importance to the maintenance of effective and positive control over the quantity of money and that he should desire in this case at least, that nothing should be left to chance. It was an English liberal of the early nineteenth century and one of the leading adherents of the Currency School, Lord Overstone, who drew the clear and emphatic distinction between money and goods. There is no sense, he observed, in applying to the manufacture of money the principle of cheap and abundant production which, with regard to the manufacture of goods, the liberal expects to find operating in a competitive economy. What is essential in the case of money, on the contrary, is strict control of its quantity. While the liberal holds private initiative and free competition to be desirable in the realm of goods production, he knows that judicious regulation of the quantity of money cannot be expected to emanate from those sources. What is needed instead is a carefully thought-out system of monetary control instituted and supervised by government. If in the production of goods the most important pedal is the accelerator, in the production of money it is the brake. To insure that this brake works automatically and independently of the whims of government and the pressure of parties and groups seeking “easy money” has been one of the main functions of the gold standard. That the liberal should prefer the automatic brake of gold to the whims of government in its role of trustee of a managed currency is understandable.
This distrust of the manipulated monetary standard is not alone a consequence of the liberal philosophy. Almost the whole course of monetary history vindicates this distrust. For as money has become increasingly etherealized—attaining the pinnacle of incorporeality and insubstantiality in the form of credit money—the danger of arbitrariness and caprice in the regulation of the quantity of money has become correspondingly greater. It is, of course, true that even the standard metals have been at times subject to considerable fluctuations in value. But these have been negligible compared with the monetary fluctuations which have occurred since manipulated standards have been adopted, and the laws of nature and of economics exchanged for the unpredictable caprices of politicians and governments. It was the paper standard which first taught us the meaning of the word “inflation.” Indeed, it would be difficult to cite a single paper standard which has not sooner or later succumbed to depreciation because the government concerned was unable or perhaps even unwilling to keep the quantity of money within limits.
It should by now be clear that the quantity of money in circulation decisively affects the purchasing power of money, an increase in the supply of money lowering its purchasing power (inflation), a decrease raising it (deflation). In the long run, the first mentioned danger of an inflationary increase in the money supply has always been decidedly greater than that of a deflationary reduction in the supply of money. The temptation to engage in inflation is omnipresent for its immediate consequences are usually very popular. Recent history knows no case of the murder of a statesman responsible for inflation. On the other hand, there have been at least several instances in which statesmen thought to be responsible for deflation have been done in (e.g., in Czechoslovakia and Japan). This one example may suffice to show that arbitrariness in the matter of issuing money tends more in the direction of the “too much” than in the direction of the “too little.” And indeed every money of which we have record has at some time in its history been prey to the disease of inflation which, if it has not proved fatal, has left the permanent scar of depreciation. If we lay side by side a modern bank note and the gold coin which is its equivalent, we could lay heavy odds on the certainty that in a hundred years’ time the bank note—even the “hardest” and most respectable—will have suffered the ignominy of depreciation while the piece of gold will still enjoy the same valuation and the same esteem as the gold pieces of King Croesus of Lydia enjoyed 2,500 years ago. The most finely-spun theories on the stupidity of the gold standard, all the clever satires on mankind’s frenetic digging for the yellow metal, and all the ingenious schemes for creating a gold-less money will never change the truly remarkable fact that for thousands of years men have continued to regard gold as the commodity of highest and surest worth and as the most secure anchor of wealth. One may protest this as often as one likes—the fact remains. It is this stubborn fact that continues to make the gold standard the best and most eminently useful of all monetary systems.
Our researches thus far have perhaps yielded sufficient proof of the theory that the value or the purchasing power of money is determined primarily by the proportion of the quantity of money to the volume of goods (quantity or scarcity theory of money). Hence, those abrupt changes in the purchasing power of money which are the characteristic symptoms of the monetary diseases of inflation and deflation will be found to have originated in a marked increase or decrease in the quantity of money (including credit money). The most important prerequisite of an orderly monetary system is therefore the regulation of the quantity of money in such wise that the monetary system is immunized against the ever-present contagion of inflation.
These considerations need to be emphasized at a time like the present marked as it is by a rash of risky monetary schemes aimed at banishing the dominant bogey of our time—deflation.9 In the long run, we repeat, it is inflation, and nowadays especially the insidious inflation of credit money, which constitutes the greatest and most imminent danger. Indeed, the effectiveness (or lack of it) in keeping money scarce may well serve as a criterion by which we may judge and understand, in its minutest operations, the performance of any monetary system whatsoever. The linking of money to a precious metal, the establishment of reserve requirements by central banks, the strenuous efforts to control the operations of the note-issuing banks—all these measures serve the same ultimate aim of keeping money scarce. And now for decades the world has been wrestling with the ever more acute problem of finding the most efficacious methods of braking the credit-creating powers of the modern banking system. In the long run, moreover, it is the greater or smaller degree of scarcity of money in an economy which determines the exchange relationships between domestic and foreign money (the exchange rate).10
Our generation, which recalls the despair caused by the inflations in the post World War I era and which was required to undergo the self-same catastrophes following World War II, needs no instruction concerning the fact that the worst disease with which a monetary system can be afflicted is that kind of inflation which is caused by a deficit of the government budget. The German inflation of the years 1920-23 will always remain as a horrible example of what happens when a government attempts to cover its budget deficits by resorting to the deceitful and irresponsible expedient of the printing press. What in Germany began as “deficit financing’’ ended in a series of catastrophic price rises which caused the shameless enrichment of some at the cost of the hopeless impoverishment of others, and in a serious undermining of the whole economic and social structure. But the inflationary creation of money caused by the budget deficits of government need not necessarily lead to the economic and social disorders attendant on an open inflation of the kind that followed World War I. Beginning in 1933, National Socialist Germany demonstrated that a determined government can change an open into a repressed inflation by placing the country in the economic strait jacket of a command economy. Rationing, the imposition of stringent controls on wages, consumption, capital investment, rates of interest, and similar measures aimed at restricting the free use of the increasing amount of purchasing power may succeed in containing for an indefinite period the mounting inflationary pressure on prices, wages, exchange rates, stock prices, etc.
Since Hitler has shown how far and how long a government can neutralize an inflation by means of the command economy, we may well ask ourselves whether from now on there will be any government which will not follow the same road when it disposes of a functioning coercive apparatus. The greater the inflationary pressure the stronger will be the counterpressure of the command economy needed to repress it. By the same token, the command economy must resort to ever more comprehensive and ruthless controls if it is to effectively contain the mounting forces of inflation. This leads logically to the question of whether such a command economy is possible without totalitarian slavery (of which the Third Reich was such a repellent example).
The experience of Germany demands that we consider a little more closely this peculiar phenomenon of repressed inflation. As we have seen, it consists, fundamentally, in the fact that a government first promotes inflation but then seeks to interdict its influence on prices and rates of exchange by imposing the now familiar wartime devices of rationing and fixed prices, together with the requisite enforcement measures. As inflationary pressures force up prices, costs, and exchange rates, the ever more comprehensive and elaborate apparatus of the command economy seeks to repress this upward movement with the countermeasures of the police state. The repressed inflation can be conceived of, then, as the deliberate maintenance of a system of coercive and fictitious values in which, economically speaking, there is neither rhyme nor reason. Such a system is an inevitable feature of a collectivist economic regime and is to be encountered wherever socialism has gained control of influence (Soviet Union, National Socialist Germany, Austria, Great Britain, Sweden, and some other European countries). Where this repressed inflation leads was shown with tragic incisiveness in the complete disintegration of the German economy, a process which was arrested only by the comprehensive economic and monetary reform which restored a free price system in which actual rather than fictitious supply-demand relationships were reflected (Summer, 1948). The prolongation of a policy of repressed inflation means that all economic values become increasingly fictitious, and this in a twofold sense: (1) stated values correspond less and less to actual scarcity relationships and (2) fewer and fewer transactions are completed on the basis of such values. The distortion of all value relationships which accompany the division of the economy into “official” and “black” markets, and the struggle between the directives of the market and those of the administrative authorities finally lead to chaos, to a situation in which any kind of order, whether of the collectivist or the market economy type, is lacking.
We see, then, that a repressed inflation is worse than an open one because, in the end, money loses not only its function as a medium of exchange and as a measure of value (as happens in the last stages of an open inflation), but also its even more important function as a stimulus to the production and distribution of maximum quantities of goods. Repressed inflation is a road which ends inevitably in chaos and paralysis. The more values are raised by inflation, the more will the authorities feel compelled to use their machinery of compulsion. But the more fictitious the system of compulsory values, the greater will be the economic chaos and the public discontent and the more threadbare either the authority of the government or its claim to be democratic. If the repressed inflation is not stopped in time it will, drawing strength from its own momentum, lead to the dissolution of economic activity and perhaps even of the state itself. This modern economic disease is one of the most serious of all; it is doubly pernicious since it tends to be recognized only when it is in an advanced stage.11
Today in 1962, inflation, in the particularly pernicious form of repressed inflation it took in the immediate postwar period, has been overcome in a majority of the developed industrial countries of the free world, if not in a large number of underdeveloped countries and in the Communist states of whose economic systems it constitutes an integral part. This does not mean, of course, that inflation may be considered as banished. Instead of the clearly distinguishable forms it has hitherto assumed, inflation has taken on a creeping character, the analysis of which is not an easy task. Two particularly noticeable types of this “creeping inflation” are the so-called “wage inflation” and the so-called “imported inflation.”12
By wage inflation is meant the inflationary impulses originating in the labor market, and which take the form of wage increases which—in those labor markets dominated by powerful labor unions—are so rapid and of such large amount that the ratio between goods and money is upset. The result is on the one hand an inflationary overpressure of demand and, on the other, an increase in costs which may bring an increase in prices in its train, though in both cases inflation is possible only to the extent that the monetary and fiscal authorities permit the creation of a corresponding addition to the supply of money. Were such additions to the supply of money not permitted, the wage and/or price increases would have the effect of making some portion of domestic output unsaleable and thus cause unemployment. But when the government and the central bank of a country believe themselves obliged to maintain full employment despite wage increases, the choice they then face of accepting some unemployment or some inflation will often be decided in favor of inflation. The decision may also be, as has been the case for some time in the United States, to effect a compromise between these two alternatives. In such case, unemployment and economic stagnation are joined to continuous, if mild price increases. In the United States, labor union power of a degree unknown in Europe has caused a wage inflation of such a severe and chronic type that the government and the central bank (the Federal Reserve System) have been obliged—in the interest of avoiding unfavorable effects on the balance of payments—to go further in the direction of tight money than they would otherwise dare to go, given the risks implicit in such policies of unemployment and economic stagnation.
We may speak of imported inflation where a country such as West Germany achieves a continuous surplus in its balance of payments (i.e., an excess of payments from abroad over payments to abroad, irrespective of the transactions giving rise to such payments). Since the surplus takes the form of a net receipt of foreign monies or gold which the central bank (the Deutsche Bundesbank) is obliged to convert into domestic currency, its end effect is to expand the domestic money supply. Because the increase in the quantity of money is not offset by an increase in the quantity of goods—the surplus itself being due to the exportation of a portion of domestic output without any corresponding importation of goods—such “monetization of the balance of payments surplus” becomes the agent in an inflationary increase of prices, wages, investments, consumer demand, and in the emergence of an acute shortage of labor (over-employment) . The inflation in such case is not the “fault” of the domestic monetary authorities, but is brought in from outside, is “imported.” The origin of the balance of payments surpluses which cause such imported inflation lies, paradoxically, in the fact that in the affected country (Germany in our example) efforts to control creeping inflation by means of stricter monetary and fiscal discipline are more successful than elsewhere. In the specific case of West Germany, moreover, part of the reason for the surplus was the fact that the competitiveness of the German economy was continually increased as the result of advances in production and distribution techniques and the reestablishment of contact with foreign markets in the years following war and occupation. The result was that Germany was a country which, until the revaluation of the Deutschemark in March 1961, remained “cheap” in relation to other countries. The only effective remedy for this particularly virulent form of inflation was the surgical operation of changing the rate of exchange: the international purchasing power of the Deutschemark was increased in order that its internal purchasing power be prevented from falling.


Economics of the Free Society