Monetarist vs. Keynesian Money

Forget your M2, M3 and M-whatever. Monetarism like Keynesians need make-believe...

 

The DEVOTEES of monetarism start from the observation that what they call 'money' tends to move in a loose correspondence with a statistical chimera called 'National Income' , writes Sean Corrigan at the Cobden Centre in the second part of his series on the future of money.

 

Monetarists then proceed to reverse the usual order of the harnessing of cart to horse to suggest that this income is best controlled by manipulating the quantity of 'money' ex ante (and here let us spare ourselves an examination of the exact definition of that beast, in keeping with the monetarists' own proclivity to flit promiscuously between whichever of the likes of M1, M2, M3... M(n) currently best fits the econometric bill).

 

Leaving aside the vexed question of what exactly comprises 'national income' or of whether the near infinite richness of the interactions taking place between tens – if not hundreds – of millions of people can be boiled down into one simple numerical entity, it is not really surprising that, in a horizontally-diverse, vertically-separated, modern economy, the multifarious business of accumulating, transforming, and delivering a wide array of goods and services involves the generation of a commensurate number of claims so that each individual's part in the creation of this bounty can be duly recorded and ultimately encashed. 

 

But it is a long way from recognising that a degree of correlation might exist between money and credit on the one hand and material wealth on the other to insisting that the forcing of extra claims upon the system can somehow encourage an increase in genuine business, an augmentation of prosperity, or a sustainable improvement in the common weal.

 

To believe that wonders can be enacted merely by tinkering with the availability of the medium of exchange which is our economic system's basic plumbing is a bit like the brewer who thinks that his beer can be made to ferment quicker and taste better if only he can lengthen the span and widen the bore of his pipe-work, or like a would-be author who thinks his magnum opus is more likely to be recognised as a literary masterpiece if he doubles the spacing between the lines of his typescript and so uses twice the number of reams of paper to set it down.

 

This is not to say that we Austrians deny that such jiggery-pokery can have very real effects on the economy – we are, after all, the ones who are noted for our own, unique, Monetary Theory of the Business Cycle – but we do doubt that its effects are either so mechanically predictable or so universally benign as our esteemed Chicagoan colleagues suppose.

 

Furthermore, we are all too aware that the monotonic and comprehensive inflation of values which results from the kind of carpet-bombing, 'helicopter drops' which loom so large in the dark fantasises of our central banking chiefs are not the norm, but that money creation takes place at specific times and specific places and so raises some prices and enhances some demands before it effects others, thus causing all manner of largely incalculable disruptions to the all-important relative price relations which are the means by which we can determine how scarce one good is compared to another.

 

Thus, each of their successive interventions is only likely to introduce further strains into what the earlier ones have made an already highly dislocated structure to the point that the malign effect of such distortions seems to require yet further acts of interference with the natural order. 

 

As for the Keynesians – one almost fails to know where to begin with a hodge-podge of obscurantism which is at best a rehashed version of the old under-consumptionist fallacies, shot through with a dash of equally antediluvian mercantilism, and at worst a cynical excuse for central planning and an assault upon the sphere of private decision making.

 

Not the least of the sins of dear Maynard was his role as a 'terrible simplificateur' in his championing of a school of accounting tautology that too many of us have come to revere as 'macroeconomics' – a many-headed monster of a thing which all too often tends to controvert the eminently sound insights of micro-economics once the latter's transaction count crosses some strange, reverse quantum threshold of weirdness. 

 

We have heard some of the peculiar effects of this tendency here tonight in being assured, among other things, that the only salvation of a people brought low by borrowing too recklessly is to find another agency – Burckhardt's arch 'swindler-in-chief', the state, if no one else – to take their place at the high table of prodigality.

 

We have also been told that public debt is an 'asset' that we owe to ourselves – a contention which not only flies in the face of logic, but also of much of history – and that we cannot all export our way out of difficulty, when the very marvels of modern society have been exactly so built up by each man, much less each nation, 'exporting' as much value as he can to his fellows, thereby earning the right to 'import' as much as he would like from them as his due reward.

 

Above all, we have been enjoined to assume that everything wrong in the outmoded world of laissez-faire is the consequence of someone – usually someone assumed to reprehensibly better-off than the norm – failing either to exhaust the entirety of his income on fripperies – so triggering a nonsensical 'paradox of thrift' – or to spend any such surplus of income over outgo on fixed income securities – so delivering us to the legendary Château d'If of the 'liquidity trap' instead.

 

Needless to say, we hold the opposite to be true. We hold that thrift fuels, rather than frustrates, material progress and that the only 'liquidity trap' we have to fear is the snare that results from the provision of too excessive a supply of 'liquidity' – i.e., of a great superfluity of money and the promise of artificially cheap credit for 'as long as it takes' – in the aftermath of the Bust. This utterly wrong-headed approach only attenuates the purgative effect of the crash and so leaves too many men, machines, and minerals locked into too many failed endeavours at what are still too-elevated prices for their redeployment to alternative uses to promise a decent return on the undertaking, this preventing economic rejuvenation.

 

In the authorities' Humpty Dumpty compulsion to validate every sunk cost by suppressing interest rates – and thereby suppressing a good deal of the useful risk appetite and channelling too much of it into the narrow field of financial speculation – they only succeed in sapping the survivors of their remaining vitality. On the one hand denying the least afflicted (among whom are to be found, by definition, our potential saviours, the wiser, the more resilient, and the more flexible) the opportunity to rebuild amid the rubble, they thereby hand the reins instead over to an enervating alliance of extractive, public-choice parasites, skulking subsidy-grubbers, feckless leverage jockeys, and special-pleading, sub-marginal zombie companies

 

Among other enormities, the fact that production must necessarily precede consumption and that it is the first which comprises the creation of wealth and the second which encompasses its destruction, was far beyond the ken of the spoiled Bloomsbury elitist who exhibited a life-long contempt of the aspirations and mores of the bourgeoisie and who hence imagined that policy was at its finest when, like an over-indulgent aunt, it was pliantly accommodating the otherwise 'ineffective' demand being volubly expressed by the old dame's petulant nephew as he stamped his foot in the tantrum he was throwing up against the sweet-shop window.