Ian McAuley

  • Bill Shorten is right: Malcolm Turnbull is a major threat to Medicare

    Labor appears to have rediscovered old values, while the Liberals don’t appear changed one bit. Ian McAuley explains the mire that is the fresh debate on the future of Medicare.

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  • IAN McAULEY. A Royal Commission into banking and the private health insurance industry.

    In this election campaign the issue that triggered a double dissolution – restoration of the Australian Building and Construction Commission – has hardly scored a mention.

    That contrasts with the 1974 double dissolution election, called by the Whitlam Government in response to the Coalition’s use of its Senate power to thwart the government’s most important pieces of legislation.

    The establishment of Medibank – the forerunner of Medicare – was the main issue in that election. Labor’s vision was for a publicly-funded single health insurer, while the Coalition fought tooth and nail to defend the privileged position of private health insurance (PHI).

    The struggle continued in subsequent elections. Between 1975 and 1983 the Fraser Government gutted Medibank, but the Hawke Government resurrected it as Medicare, and over the years of the Hawke-Keating Government, as Medicare grew in popularity, membership of PHI steadily fell to around 30 percent of the population. Then in 1986 the newly-elected Howard Government introduced a set of generous subsidies for PHI, resulting in its coverage rising back to a little over 50 per cent of the population. (more…)

  • IAN McAULEY. The difference in the economic policies of the major parties.

    In the din of distractions about political trivia, many in the media have lost sight of, or fail to understand, fundamental differences in the economic policies of the two main parties.

    That is their approach to distribution, or redistribution.

    Although politicians may accuse one another of heartlessness or of ignoring the poor, almost all politicians believe that the benefits of economic activity should be distributed fairly (even though what they see as constituting “fairness” may differ). (more…)

  • IAN McAULEY. The more we examine the Coalition’s ‘plan’ to cut corporate taxes, the more is revealed of its economic shortcomings.

    The more we examine the Coalition’s proposal to cut corporate taxes, the more is revealed of its economic shortcomings.

    Many have commented on the inequity of cutting corporate taxes while tightening eligibility for disability support, reducing benefits for new welfare recipients, freezing Medicare rebates, and inadequately funding health and education. (more…)

  • Ian McAuley. Are Conservatives better economic managers?

    Here’s a short quiz.

    Over the last fifty years Australia has had 17 federal treasurers. Which two have won the coveted Euromoney “Finance Minister of the Year” award?

    As a memory jogger, below is a list of treasurers in chronological order.

    William McMahon (Lib)
    Leslie Bury (Lib)
    Billy Snedden (Lib)
    Frank Crean (Lab)
    Jim Cairns (Lab)
    Bill Hayden (Lab)
    Phillip Lynch (Lib)
    John Howard (Lib)
    Paul Keating (Lab)
    John Kerin (Lab)
    Ralph Willis (Lab)
    John Dawkins (Lab)
    Peter Costello (Lib)
    Wayne Swan (Lab)
    Chris Bowen (Lab)
    Joe Hockey (Lib)
    Scott Morrison (Lib)

    Keating won it in 1984, in recognition of the government’s role in structural reform, and Swan won it in 2011 in recognition of the government’s deft response to the global financial crisis.

    It would be arrogant (and a violation of the principles of statistical inference) for any partisan commentator to suggest this means Labor outshines the Coalition on economic management. But it is certainly inconsistent with the popular view that the Coalition is more capable of handling the economy than Labor.

    Opinion polls consistently reveal that belief. In early April, even after Treasurer Morrison had paraded his ineptitude on taxation policy, when an Essential poll put the question “Who would you trust most to handle Australia’s economy – the Treasurer Scott Morrison or the Shadow Treasurer Chris Bowen?”, Morrison at 26 percent came out ahead of Bowen at 22 per cent. Even more extraordinary was a similarEssential poll in August 2014, just three months after the Coalition’s disastrous 2014 budget, that gave Hockey a score of 34 per cent compared with Bowen’s score of 23 per cent.

    If there were to-and-fro movement in such polls that would be understandable, but that pro-Coalition bias has endured for a long time, and all the major polls give the same ranking on similar questions: the Coalition is consistently seen as better at economic management than Labor.

    There are three possible explanations for such a divergence between popular and expert opinion.

    First, Labor has been in office at the wrong time.

    Labor has a knack of winning government at the wrong time. In 1929 the Scullin Government won office just as the Great Depression was unfolding. In 1972 the Whitlam Government was met with a trifecta of the greatest economic shocks of the postwar era – the 1973 middle east oil embargo, the end of the Bretton Woods exchange rate arrangements, and the severe contraction of the US economy as its military spending (on the Vietnam War) was cut back. And in 2007 the Rudd Government was in office for the other major postwar shock, the global financial crisis. All these three administrations were short-lived.

    By contrast, the Coalition has had extraordinary luck, holding office during the long booms from 1949 to 1972 and from 1996 to 2007. The only time Labor had a similar good run was from 1983 to 2006, but these were not easy times for those whose lives were disrupted by Labor’s reforms, and most of the economic dividends of those reforms were realised during the time of the Howard-Costello Government.

    It’s not surprising therefore that such timing may have led to negative associations with Labor governments and positive associations with Coalition governments.

    We’re now seeing for the first time in many years the Coalition in office in difficult times, and it is telling that it is encountering many of the same problems that bugged the Whitlam, Rudd and Gillard governments.

    Second, many people have a simplistic view of economics.

    Over the last ten years, particularly during the years Abbot was Opposition Leader, the budget balance and public debt have become the almost sole indicators of economic management, as if there is something good about a “surplus” and something bad about a “deficit”. All other economic issues, such as economic structure, and the notion of a government balance sheet with assets as well as liabilities, have been cast aside.

    This narrow construction of economic management results in part from the pervasive doctrines of neoliberalism and “public choice”, which have tended to dominate since 1980.  Their messages are simple: all government expenditure is wasteful, government is just a big bureaucratic overhead, and governments are intrinsically inefficient. If public spending rises for any reason that’s a clear sign of profligacy.

    It is revealing to look at another recent Essential poll that asked the question “Do you think the following groups of people would be better off under a Liberal Government or a Labor Government?” and went on to list 15 groups. Respondents were in no doubt that “large corporations” and “people and families on high incomes” would be better off under a Liberal Government. But “people and families on middle incomes”, “average working people”, “pensioners” and “single parents” would all be better off under a Labor Government.

    These responses reflect a strange understanding of what “economic management” means, as if economics is antagonistic to social objectives of inclusive prosperity, as if what happens in people’s lives doesn’t matter, just so long as indicators such as GDP growth are showing positive values.

    Other polls consistently show people believe Labor governments do better on health and education, but these positive findings don’t change people’s negative perceptions of Labor’s economic management. It’s as if health and education have no economic value.

    Any economic system that does not contribute to human well-being is meaningless, and, indeed, there is no serious economic philosophy, “left” or “right”, that does not see widespread prosperity as a desirable economic objective. (Disagreement is mainly about means.)  To suggest that there has to be some tradeoff between “economic” and “social” objectives makes no more sense than the (probably apocryphal) story from the Vietnam War “We had to destroy the village in order to save it”.

    The Murdoch media, with its partisan bias, hasn’t helped. But neither have economically ignorant and gullible journalists in other media, who too readily accept propositions that there is some tradeoff between “economic” policy and “social” policy, and who look to a few simple fiscal aggregates, such as the budget deficit, as indicators of governments’ economic competence.

    The “left” itself must accept some of the blame for this situation, because so many of its more strident voices have been contemptuous of economics. People like Chris Bowen must come close to despair when he hears some people on the left parade their economic ignorance.

    Third, we think rich people are clever.

    On ABC Radio National Barnaby Joyce, commenting on the upcoming election, quite clearly played to this belief when he said:

    People are going to have a clear choice between someone who has actually made a quid in their life, made a success in their life, which is Malcolm Turnbull, or the nation being run by Bill Shorten.

    That’s it. The rich are rich because they’re clever. In fact, as some followers of John Calvin may assert, their prosperity is testament to moral virtue. They’re respectable people, who know how to run the show. They’re well-spoken and so reasonable, not like the rough and uncouth unionists who turned up at the “’royal” commission into trade unions.

    Like the fool in Shakespeare’s plays, Joyce has said what others prefer to leave below the surface.

    It would be patronising to readers to point out the fallacy in this belief. But it’s important that we recognise its appeal.

    Economic management is difficult. Just as no administration gets everything right, no administration makes a complete mess of it. Some governments enjoy fair weather, some take over the helm in times of tempest. All are seeking much the same ends.  We should be wary of any partisan generalisations about economic competence.

  • Ian McAuley. Labor’s policies.

    Amid all the political chatter about tensions between Turnbull and Morrison, a possible early election, and the laundering of donations to the Liberal Party, Labor has released a substantial policy document –Growing together: Labor’s agenda for tackling inequality.

    With a gathering of Labor luminaries – Jenny Macklin (who has main carriage of the policy), Bill Shorten, Chris Bowen, Andrew Leigh – it was hardly surprising that the media had a strong presence at its launch at ANU late last month.

    But it turns out that the journalists were more interested in a photo shoot than in public policy, because the document got little media coverage. Those who believe in an anti-Labor media conspiracy would not be surprised, but my view is that the journalists were looking for “deliverables” in the form of specific proposals (they found a few tidbits), but they weren’t equipped to do justice to a document outlining a major shift in policy emphasis.

    The document has two strong policy messages. First is its focus on inequality. Not welfare transfers or redistribution, but inequality. Second is its dismissal of any idea that there is a tradeoff between “economic” and “social” objectives.

    To understand how far these messages are out of sync with our present thinking, imagine Christian Porter, Alan Tudge, Scott Morrison and Mathias Cormann on one platform giving unscripted statements on the economic importance of dealing with inequality?

    These policy principles should really be no-brainers. Who would not say inequality is a major problem? And who would not believe that good economic policy and good social policy are inseparable?

    Unfortunately, they are not obvious.

    While most people may understand the moral case against rising inequality, they do not necessarily grasp the fact that inequality has bad economic consequences. High and persistent inequality destroys incentives, creates an “underclass” dependent on social security transfers, deprives people of the opportunity to develop and use their capabilities, and in the long run undermines the political legitimacy of the economic system. It’s no surprise that worldwide we are seeing the emergence of populist politicians with simplistic prescriptions for complex problems.

    And to suggest that we must sacrifice social objectives for the sake of “the economy” makes no more sense than the (probably apocryphal) story out of the Vietnam War: “we had to destroy the village in order to save it”.  As the philosopher Karl Polanyi stressed, we live in a society, not in a market: markets are, or should be, subservient to society, and should be subject to society’s norms. There is no superior entity called “the economy” to which we must pay homage. Economic policy that goes against our desire for a fair and just society is just plain bad economics.

    Yet that’s not the way the public see it. Poll after poll gives Labor a strong lead over the Coalition in “social policy”, while giving the Coalition a strong lead in “economic policy”.  Such a contradiction could be sustained only if the idea of a tradeoff is ingrained in people’s minds.

    So while Labor is on the right track in bringing together economic and social policy, it has a lot of convincing to do. Some of that work has to be directed at the public in general, some at journalists who have difficulty in understanding public policy, and some has to be directed at enthusiasts on the “left” who are too ready to dismiss economics, and who abandon the quest to find ways of overcoming inequality and social exclusion that are based on sound economic principles.

  • Ian McAuley. The government says that tax cuts are good for workers!

    Arthur Sinodinos’ suggestion of a cut to the corporate tax rate doesn’t seem to be the smartest way to start an election campaign.

    For a start, it’s not clear how such generosity would be funded. Earlier this month there was a flurry of excitement when iron ore prices rose. For a few days the idea that higher commodity prices might boost the government’s tax revenue was getting kicked around. But that commodity price rise was short-lived.

    Even conservative economists don’t necessarily call for a cut in corporate taxes. They believe that if the government can find any spare cash its priority should be to reduce the budget deficit.

    Other economists, who advise against haste in cutting the budget deficit, suggest that any increased spending should be directed to economic areas neglected by the Howard and Abbott governments – education, transport and communication infrastructure, and environmental repair.

    Contrary to the claim of the Business Council of Australia that our 30 per cent corporate tax rate makes Australian companies uncompetitive, our effective tax on profits is much less than 30 per cent because of dividend imputation, which credits the investor receiving dividends with company tax already paid. An investor in a company distributing half its profits as dividends would be facing an effective tax on profits of only 15 per cent, one of the lowest among all developed countries.

    Of course imputation is available only to domestic investors, and it’s hardly surprising that the strongest voices for a corporate tax cut come from those representing foreign investors. Our “open for business” approach to foreign investors, however, has hardly been an economic blessing. The exchange rate escalation associated with the mining boom has wrecked many trade-exposed industries (most notably our car industry). And we are now paying the price of dependence on foreign investment as we see profits from the mining boom go out of the country. That’s why, while our per-capita GDP is showing modest growth, our per-capita gross national income (GNI) – a more accurate indicator of living standards – is going backwards.

    Furthermore, as is becoming abundantly clear thanks to the Senate’s inquiry into corporate tax avoidance, for footloose multinationals our corporate tax rates have about as much meaning as a speed limit sign on an outback road.

    Perhaps Sinodinos is moved by compassion for the Liberal Party’s corporate sponsors, because as any stock exchange investor (direct or through superannuation) knows, corporate profits have been sluggish over the last few years. As a share of GDP corporate profits have fallen from 26 per cent in 2008 (before the GFC crash) to 23 per cent now.

    But we need to put that into a longer perspective, and below is a graph of the corporate profit share of GDP over the last 55 years. It has simply fallen back the level it had over the time of the Howard-Costello government, and even that was much higher than its level in the 1960s when our economy was growing very strongly.

    Also notable in the same graph is the fact that financial corporations – banks and insurance firms – are doing very well.  (Dbl click on image to enlarge)

     

    ProfitsGDPbig

    Sinodinos’s public argument for a corporate tax cut isn’t based on generosity to struggling corporate executives and foreign shareholders, however. Even the Murdoch press would baulk at putting a pro-Coalition spin on that line.

    The basis of Sinodinos’s argument, one commonly put by those who still cling to a belief in “supply-side economics” is that lower taxes allow companies to retain more of their earnings to invest in new ventures, thus fuelling economic growth and providing well-paid employment.

    When that philosophy was pursued in America in the name “Reaganomics” in the 1980s it failed – its consequences are still being felt in the American economy – and it is even more likely to fail in Australia in 2016.

    In our present situation, although profits are down a little, companies are awash with money, and they don’t know what to do with it. Lacking any investment plans they are simply returning it to shareholders.

    The Reserve Bank has pointed out that publicly-listed companies are now paying out more than 70 per cent of their profits as dividends, which means they are retaining less than 30 percent for investment. That’s extremely high by Australian historical standards and by world standards. In addition, some companies are using share buy-backs and other means to return capital to investors. And Australia’s banks, rather than lending to business, have been raising capital to strengthen their balance sheets, essentially taking money out of circulation (once they have generously looked after their shareholders and executives).

    All this points to a lack of confidence, and another undeserved handout isn’t going to restore it. In the present climate some of that handout would go to foreign investors (John Daley of the Grattan Institute estimates that leakage would be around 50 per cent), some to corporate salaries, and, of course, some to corporate entertainment and other boondoggles. Whatever domestic investors gain would be lost in lower franking credits.

    Tax competition – that is the practice of governments using promises of low tax rates to bid for business – is a race to the bottom, generally resorted to by countries that don’t have much else to offer.

    If the government wants to attract real investment – the kind of investment that results in economic growth and well-paid employment – it should attend to the weaknesses in our economic structure. It should raise taxes to invest in education and infrastructure; it should impose a price on carbon and lay out a clear plan for reducing greenhouse gas emissions and transforming our energy-intensive industries; it should tax capital gains so as to discourage short-term speculation (as was the case before 1999); and it should close off tax provisions that divert personal savings to an emerging real-estate bubble.

    These measures should all have been on the agenda of the promised public debate on tax reform. Instead, we’re having an election that will be based on a take-it-or-leave-it budget.

    This article was first posted in New Matilda on 21 March 2016.

     

     

     

     

  • Ian McAuley. Chris Bowen and ‘The Money Men’.

    Political disunity comes in two forms. One, which we witnessed in the Rudd-Gillard years, is the subtle attack on the authority of the party leader. The other and more serious form is a conflict about policy.

    Once Tony Abbott announced his intention to hang around it was clear that the Turnbull Government would suffer the disunity of the first form. Abbott’s ridiculous claim last week that he could have won the coming election is a pretty good indication of why he wants to hang around.

    And it’s now evident that the Government is being torn apart over economic policy. The specific manifestation is about taxation of investment housing, but it’s much deeper than that issue. It’s about the conflict between attending to important shortcomings in our economic structure, namely the need to improve our public revenue and to remove unjustifiable and distorting tax rorts, and appeasing the petulant beneficiaries of those rorts.

    John Howard has now weighed in, urging appeasement, no doubt having in mind the way the Coalition successfully used the issue of “negative gearing” against the Keating Government. Perhaps he should go back to 1982 when, as treasurer, he confronted the tax evasion mechanism known as “bottom of the harbour”, which saw people shifting their tax liabilities to companies that they would subsequently liquidate. Then, as now, there was a large rump in the Coalition parties ready to defend tax rorts – with many of them crossing the floor when Howard introduced legislation to stop the practice.

    Shadow Treasurer Chris Bowen analyses these conflicts between economic and political demands in his recently-published book The Money Men: Australia’s twelve most notable treasurers (Melbourne University Press 2015).

    Throughout our 115 year history, he points out, governments have succeeded in re-shaping economic policy when there is a reasonable degree of policy convergence between the main actors – not only the Treasurer and Prime Minister, but also the Treasury and, in recent years, the Reserve Bank.

    He describes some of the most successful partnerships, such as that between Treasurer Ben Chifley and Prime Minister John Curtin. That partnership was based not only on a strong ideological alignment between the two men, but also on their willingness to seek independent economic advice, and to bring people like Nugget Coombs into advisory roles. (Bowen is too polite to draw the obvious contrast with the partisan groupthink that characterised Abbott’s and Howard’s “commissions of audit”.)

    It’s hardly surprising, then, that he acknowledges Paul Keating’s effectiveness in economic reform: there was rivalry between Hawke and Keating for the top job, but they supported each other on economic policy. And his standout case study is the deft response of Wayne Swan and Kevin Rudd to the emerging global financial crisis – a situation where Treasury was well on side.

    Bowen’s twelve biographies cover both Labor and non-Labor treasurers – including Country Party treasurers Earl Page (1923-1929) and Arthur Fadden (1949-1958). It’s revealing that in the 1950s Fadden had no great political difficulty in raising taxes to meet expenditure needs. Tough budgets were met with token protests – the tabloid headlines would scream “Beer up, cigs up” – but Australians got on with paying their taxes to contribute to the nation’s needs.

    It’s also revealing that Menzies and Fadden saw a budget surplus as politically problematic, even though Keynesian management calls for surpluses when an economy is overheating. After all, a surplus means the government collects more in taxation than it spends on services and transfers. People understandably don’t like paying for more than they are receiving.

    It was Peter Costello who re-defined a surplus as something intrinsically virtuous. Whether this stemmed from Costello’s economic ignorance or from political opportunism Bowen does not make clear. It was easy for Costello to make this connection, because over his ten years in the job the economy and therefore public revenue were thriving, thanks to the mining boom and the Hawke-Keating Government’s economic reforms.

    The idea that a surplus was the hallmark of good economic management provided Abbott with a powerful weapon against the Rudd-Gillard administration. Had they not run a substantial deficit, however, the cost in terms of unemployment would have been staggering – a repetition of the idiocy of 1929. Similarly it would be irresponsible for the Turnbull Government go for a cash surplus in this year’s budget, but there is poetic justice in seeing the deficit fetish coming back to haunt them.

    Bowen generously gives credit to Costello for his understanding of the 1997 Asian crisis (he was well ahead of the IMF), for granting independence to the Reserve Bank, and for implementing the recommendations of the Wallis Inquiry into the financial system (thus improving our capacity to cope with the Global Financial Crisis).

    While he’s critical of Costello’s failure to understand the dynamics of monetary policy, and for yielding to Howard with unsustainable tax cuts and middle-class welfare, he lets Costello off lightly. He does not mention Costello’s hash of capital gains tax, when he abolished indexation and reduced the rate to 50 per cent – a “reform” that played into the hands of bankers and speculators and is largely responsible for our real-estate bubble and housing affordability crisis.

    His coverage of Keating’s reforms is testament not only to Keating’s determination, but also to the political luck of the Hawke-Keating Government. There is a revisionist story that Keating had it easy because there was bipartisan consensus on the need for reform, and that a Liberal Opposition could hardly object to a Labor Government deregulating the finance sector, reforming business taxes, and reducing tariff protection – policies in many ways straight out of the Liberal Party platform.

    Bowen dismisses this revisionist view – the Liberal Party, then as now, fought against every one of Labor’s significant reforms. It was its 13 year run in office that gave Labor a chance to take a steady path to economic reform, because they had the luck of an opposition in disarray. Perhaps Joh Bjelke-Petersen’s greatest contribution to public life was his “Joh-for-PM” push, which destabilised the Liberal Party long enough to allow the Hawke-Keating Government to embed its reforms.

    The main value of this work is that it tells us something about the person who could well be Treasurer later this year. He’s obviously on top of his economics, and he clearly has an understanding of economic history. He establishes his conservative credentials, most notably in his dismissive treatment of Jim Cairns’s utopian socialist vision. He’s also realistic about the political processes of economic reform. It’s difficult, but it can be handled with patience – his cover of good ideas badly handled, such as the proposed minerals resource rent tax, shows that he understands the need for sound process. He’s certainly not a “crash or crash through” politician, but rather he comes across as one who would maintain the Labor tradition of responsible economic management.

     

     

     

     

  • Ian McAuley. The only unifying thread in the Liberal Party is a compulsion to keep Labor out of office.

    There is a German saying “The less the people know about how laws and sausages are made, the better they sleep at night”.

    In his book Credlin & Co (Black Inc 2016), an exposé of the political relationship between Tony Abbott and his loyal Chief of Staff, Peta Credlin, Aaron Patrick of the Financial Review takes us inside Abbott’s sausage factory.

    At one level it’s a story that’s been around for 500 years, which is when Machiavelli warned about the folly of the prince who surrounds himself with a protective guard to flatter him and protect him from his critics. When at Oxford Abbott must have skipped over that part of The Prince.

    But at another level it’s about the dysfunctional nature of the Liberal Party. Patrick describes the party’s factions and alliances, and the values some of its power-brokers hold strongly – social conservatism, a dogmatic faith in the intrinsic virtue of “small government”, loyalty to the Queen of England, a belief that’s what’s good for “business” is good for Australia, and denial of climate change, to name a few.

    Reading Patrick’s work it’s apparent that the only unifying thread in the Party is a compulsion to keep Labor out of office. To the Party’s members it’s an imperative akin to protecting Australia from smallpox – so self-evident that it needs no explanation or justification.

    And that’s where Abbott excelled, from the day in late 2009 when he knocked off Malcolm Turnbull as Opposition Leader. Abbott and Credlin were faithful to the Party’s mission – and understandably they would be resentful at being turfed out after having been so true to the Party’s mission.

    Patrick exposes a party that’s so arrogant and sure of itself that it attributes any setbacks or defeats to a failure to get its message across. If only Abbott and Hockey had explained the 2014 Budget it would been far better accepted. If only they had handled the Senate cross-benchers better they could have succeeded in cutting age pensions and raising university fees. If only Campbell Newman had been a better political strategist the LNP would not have suffered its humiliating defeat in Queensland.

    Patrick acknowledges that Abbott went overboard on terrorism, and that awarding a knighthood to an already honour-overladen prince from one of Europe’s offshore islands was rather stupid, but by and large he does not suggest that there was anything wrong with Abbott’s t policies.

    Apart from criticising Abbott’s ineptitude, Patrick’s account is largely non-judgmental. His book flows easily (journalists can write well when sub-editors don’t mangle their work .) I doubt whether he set out to expose the Liberal Party’s weaknesses. He tends to take the Party’s policy justifications at face value.

    What he exposes, inadvertently perhaps, is a party that cannot learn from its policy mistakes. Abbott and Credlin cut themselves from the rest of the Parliamentary Party, but that is similar to the way the Liberal Party has cut itself from the Australian people. Abbott and Credlin are scapegoats for a malaise that affects the whole party – a paternalistic “born to rule mentality”.

    No politician, however canny, could have “sold” the 2014 budget to the Australian people. Those who are skilled in political leadership can convince people that when economic times are tough some short-term shared sacrifice is necessary for the common good, but almost anyone can see through a policy that imposes costs on the most vulnerable while protecting the privileges of rent-seekers. The problem for the Abbott Liberal Government was that people did understand its policies.

    The Liberal Party’s strongest manifestation of paternalism is in its “small government” obsession. Although we have the smallest public sector and are the most lightly-taxed of all prosperous developed countries, the Party is unwavering in its idea that “small government” is good for us. Indeed, its articulation of beliefs says “businesses and individuals – not government – are the true creators of wealth and employment”. That statement is grossly offensive to every doctor in a public hospital, every teacher in a government school, and every cop on the beat, as well as being just plain stupid economics.

    So, when people demand more funding for health, education, urban transport, and environmental protection, the Party’s response is to disrespect people’s preferences, and to assert, paternalistically, that the Party knows better.

    Nowhere is this paternalism more evident than in privatisation. It’s reasonable that people should object to paying high prices for their electricity or public transport when those businesses become featherbeds for overpaid and underworked trade unionists. But that doesn’t mean they want these same utilities sold to the private sector so that high prices are subsidising overpaid executives and shareholders. They want their utilities – the utilities in which they have invested their taxes – to be run well, not sold off to opportunists. Privatisation is a lazy substitute for reform.

    Even if people haven’t studied the economics of market failure, they understand that certain matters – health insurance, school education, energy and water utilities, roads – are far better handled by governments than by the private sector.

    And people know what is meant by “business interests”. Patrick points out that the Abbott Government had lost the support of the “business community”, as if that was unquestionably a bad development. But there is a fuzzy line between “business friendly” economic policy and cronyism. If we were to find the ACCI and the BCA – lobby groups that speak mainly for corporate executives and (largely foreign) shareholders – were 100 percent behind any government’s policy, we should be truly worried that the government has lost sight of the public interest.

    For anyone interested in seeing inside the sausage factory – at least the Liberal Party section of the factory – Patrick’s book is an excellent exposé. Readers may find it hard to swallow his uncritical approach to the Liberal Party’s paternalism, and statements such as his claim that the ABC and the Fairfax media are on the “left”, but that is the world view of one who has been close to the Liberal Party powerbrokers, and it’s the world view into which Australians are slowly drifting.

    More important, in exposing the Liberal Party’s weaknesses, it should be a guide for a confident Opposition, ready to engage in a mature and honest way with the electorate.

     

     

  • Ian McAuley Private health insurance – does the lady protest too much?

    Sussan Ley, the Commonwealth Health Minister, has hit out at private health insurers’ bid for a six per cent price increase.

    In view of the strong support the Coalition has always given private health insurers, such public criticism from a Liberal Party minister may surprise us. As one-time Prime Minister Tony Abbott said “private health insurance is in our DNA”.

    It would be reassuring to believe that the Sussan Ley has come to recognise private health insurance (PHI) for what it is – a high-cost financial intermediary that does nothing to take pressure off public hospitals and that has been largely responsible for diverting scarce health care resources away from areas of need.

    As John Menadue, Jennifer Doggett and I have pointed out in conference papers, submissions to enquiries and a major study published by the Centre for Policy Development, PHI is an expensive, inequitable and inefficient way to share health costs. It does at high cost what Medicare and the Australian Tax Office (collecting taxes to fund Medicare) can do far better.

    Its bureaucratic overheads are high: only 86 cents in the dollar of insurers’ premiums are returned as benefits, compared with 95 cents for Medicare.

    It fails in its main avowed purpose to relieve pressure off public hospitals, because in channelling funds to private hospitals it has attracted resources – nurses and specialists – away from public hospitals. All it has done is to shuffle queues for access to limited resources, bringing insured patients to the front of the queue and pushing everyone else back.

    It fails to keep providers’ costs and patients’ usage under control. That’s because of what economists know as “moral hazard” – the tendency for people to over-use a service when it is free at the point of delivery. A single funder such as Medicare can control moral hazard through use of well-structured co-payments to impose some pricing discipline and through hospital staff allocating services on the basis of need. By contrast, when there are multiple insurers they necessarily have to be permissive in meeting the demands of service providers, particularly highly-paid medical specialists.

    That’s why PHI premiums have been rising at an average of 5.5 per cent a year since 2000, while general inflation has averaged only 2.9 per cent. Insurers claim that they are simply passing on costs incurred in hospitals, without acknowledging their own role in driving price inflation and over-usage in health care.

    Insurers may claim that in marshalling private funds for health care they have kept demands on the Commonwealth budget and therefore taxes in check, but even if this is the case, there is no virtue by any economic criterion, “right” or “left”, in substituting what is essentially a privatised tax (PHI) for an official tax. It’s a weird ideology that would find benefit in saving taxpayers $1.00 in official tax at the cost of their having to pay $1.10 or even $1.50 for the same or inferior service, because for most people the incentives for holding PHI come near to compulsion.

    Young people are cajoled into PHI through the penalties in “lifetime community rating”, and people with moderate and higher incomes are cajoled into PHI through exemption from the Medicare Levy Surcharge. While official taxes can incorporate progressivity, PHI, in its regulations designed to achieve “community rating”, builds in many injustices. For example, those who rely on PHI for private hospitalisation or dentistry are subsidised by the taxpayer up to 40 per cent, while those who pay from their own resources get no support.

    We don’t know the reasons for Susan Ley’s criticism of health insurers. Maybe it’s just clever politics, to distance herself and the government from another round of premium increases. Maybe it’s about her own constrained budget: because of the direct subsidies to PHI every one per cent premium rise means there is $60 million less for other health priorities. (In fact the total fiscal cost of supporting PHI, often reported at $6 billion a year, is more like $11 billion a year once tax expenditures (revenue forgone) are taken into account.)

    Or perhaps she realises that there are better ways to support private hospitals than channelling funds through PHI, and that scarce funds for health care are best directed at primary care and prevention, rather than subsidising the lifestyles of medical specialists and the well-off to jump the queue.

    (On my website are several papers on PHI. Those wishing to go further into the issues, or to find sources for the points covered in this article, will find a major study John Menadue and I conducted for the Centre for Policy Development in 2012. Late last year Jennifer Doggett and I made a submission, incorporating updated costing and other data, to a Departmental inquiry into health insurance.)

     

  • Ian McAuley, Jennifer Doggett, John Menadue. Private Health Insurance companies are price takers. Prices are set by doctors and hospitals.

    Repost from 22/10/2015

    On Tuesday the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (ACCC) released its  report on private health insurance.

    Private health insurance (PHI) was also in the news a day later with the standing down of the CEO of Medibank Pte, the largest PHI company.

    The ACCC report has been a regular report since 1999, when the Howard Government introduced a swag of subsidies for private health insurance. It covers specific “consumer” issues, such as possible false or misleading representation of products, anti-competitive behaviour, and the incidence of unexpected out-of-pocket expenses.

    Because government policy is taken as a given condition, its recommendations are confined to administrative matters. In this year’s report they are largely about the need for insurers to use standardised terminology and clearer information on restrictions, exclusions and out-of-pocket costs.

    Although not explicitly stated, its concern seems to be to help consumers to make a choice within the range of products (more than 20 000 on offer) from 34 private insurers, rather than helping consumers make a choice whether to hold private insurance or not.

    Unsurprisingly, the report finds that consumers are faced with what the cartoonist Scott Adams (creator of the Dilbert character) calls “confusopoly”. The range of products is bewildering, different insurers use different language to describe similar products, and there  are subtle definitions in policy exclusions (who knows the difference between “obstetrics” and “gynaecology”, for instance?).

    Its most telling findings are that complaints are on the rise, and that the main concerns of complainants are the unpleasant surprises they get (exclusions, co-payments, restrictions on choice of providers) when they come to claim on a policy. The price of private insurance is only of minor concern, even though its price, in real (inflation-adjusted) terms has risen by 54 per cent since 2000.

    We don’t find that at all surprising.  Since the Howard Government introduced generous subsidies for private insurance in 1999, six million more people have taken some form of hospital cover. Many of these have been virtually forced into private insurance by the Medicare Levy Surcharge applying to those with high incomes, and many others were  enticed by the 1999 “Run for cover” scare campaign.

    Research in behavioral economics shows that people don’t make careful, rational choices about insurance. People tend to over-insure for small risks, while leaving themselves inadequately covered in other areas. People buy insurance because they believe it is a prudent thing to have, without giving it much consideration.

    This is confirmed by the ABS in its survey of reasons why people hold private health insurance. It has found that financial considerations hardly count, but that “security, protection, peace of mind” is the overwhelming reason for people to hold private insurance.

    It’s only when people come to make a significant claim, which can be many years down the track, that they realise that they have bought a dud product. Or, perhaps, after outlaying thousands of dollars for private insurance over many years, they have a medical emergency and discover, for the first time, that there is an efficient and responsive public hospital system covering their needs.

    What comes through in the ACCC’s report is a level of frustration. This is a body with a strong faith in the benefits of competition. It says “as a starting point, competition should be relied upon to drive efficient outcomes wherever possible”, but finds that even though there are plenty of players in the market the industry is not providing what consumers want.

    The problem the ACCC faces is that in private health insurance competition doesn’t work, mainly because the insurers are simply a financial intermediary between consumers and well-organised suppliers, as we have pointed our in our work on private insurance for the Centre for Policy Development. Insurers, are essentially price-takers in a market dominated by powerful suppliers.

    That power asymmetry was illustrated earlier this year in the dispute between Medibank Private, Australia’s largest health insurer and Canberra’s Calvary Hospital. The fact that MBF had to back down in this dispute may explain the standing down of the CEO of Medibank Private, George Savvides. He understood the power of providers, but his board didn’t.

    As we point out in our research, it takes the power of a single insurer, such as Medicare and similar bodies in other countries, to ensure that costs are controlled and to see that scarce resources are put to their best use. A case study in resource misallocation (the economists’ term for “waste”) driven by the perverse incentives in private insurance was provided by a recent ABC Four Corners program on over-servicing in private hospitals.

    While the ACCC is critical of some insurers’ practices, particularly some potentially misleading product descriptions, it does not claim that this industry is engaged in collusion or other systemic anti-consumer behaviour. It seems to be annoyed by consumers who do not do their homework and shop around for the best deal – this is a common grizzle by competition regulators, who seem to believe that we all have unlimited time to devote to comparison shopping.

    But even if we were all well-informed and diligent consumers, shopping around for the best products, this would still be a market subject to fundamental market failures that go well beyond the usual scope of competition regulators. Private health insurance is simply a high-cost financial intermediary that takes 14 cents in the dollar for management and profits, without adding any consumer value.

    The fundamental problem is that insurance of any form, be it public or private, by its very nature suppresses price signals – the very mechanism that makes markets work. When a service is free at the point of delivery the discipline of markets does not operate. Economists know this problem by the quaint term “moral hazard”.

    The ACCC acknowledges the existence of moral hazard in private insurance, but there is no way it can resolve the fundamental conflict: that is seeking to use market mechanisms to regulate an industry whose very raison d’etre is to allow people to buy out of the discipline of markets.

    Of course there is still moral hazard in single insurer systems, but a single national insurer can use its power as a strong purchaser to make sure suppliers operate efficiently. There are plenty of successful overseas models of single national insurers, particularly in Canada and the Nordic countries, but, closer to home state governments, particularly in Victoria, and the Commonwealth Department of Veterans’ Affairs, act as single purchasers of hospital services. And moral hazard on the part of consumers can be held in check by the use of judicious co-payments set at such a level to provide some market discipline but not so as to discourage those with limited means from seeking necessary care.

    Perhaps, when the ACCC produces its 2014-15 report for release this time next year, it could remember that competition is not the answer to all market failures. Competition is not an end in itself – it is one way, in some markets, whereby efficient and fair outcomes can be achieved. In some markets it doesn’t work.

     

     

  • Jennifer Doggett, Ian McAuley, John Menadue. Four Corners: No wonder we’re wasting money in health care – we got the incentives wrong

    Repost from 06/10/2015.

    A recently-aired ABC Four Corners program aptly titled “Wasted” exposed three areas of unnecessary, ineffective and outright dangerous health interventions, in knee, spinal and heart surgery.

    The show’s host, Norman Swan, presumably extrapolating from the findings in those three areas, claimed that waste could be as high as 30 percent of all health care expenditure.

    Perhaps that’s an overstatement, but the point made by Swan and by most of the ten other clinical experts who appeared on the program is that we just don’t know how much waste there is in health care because we lack the processes for evaluating the effectiveness of various interventions.

    We know what we pay for a knee replacement or a cardiac stent, but we do not systematically evaluate the outcomes of these procedures.

    Identifying and reducing or eliminating funding for low value services would save our health system billions every year.

    However, this would only address one area of waste and inefficiency within our health system. A less obvious but potentially more significant source of waste lies in the way in which health care is funded in Australia, in particular via fee-for-service payment mechanisms and private health insurance.

    These funding processes are driving unsustainable growth in health services consumption without meeting the needs of the community for efficient, preventative and coordinated care.

    Unless Australia’s health funding system is fundamentally reformed to discourage inefficient and provider-driven health expenditure, efforts to increase the efficiency and targeting of Medicare expenditure will be dwarfed by the growing waste associated with our current funding systems.

    The big picture

    Every year we spend around $160 billion on health care – two thirds through our taxes, and one third through private sources.

    At a macro level we can claim we spend that money well. At around ten per cent of GDP it’s in line with expenditure in similar countries, and by gross indicators such as infant mortality and life expectancy we’re among the high achievers.

    But within our health care arrangements – a complex mix of private and public funding and provision – there are areas of poor outcomes, such as indigenous health, youth suicide, and obesity, and there is evidence of resource misallocation, such as long waiting times for elective surgery in public hospitals while there are government subsidies encouraging queue-jumping for those with lesser needs to use private hospitals.

    The role of data

    It’s not that we fail to collect data in many areas of health care, but as Adam Elshaug, Associate Professor of Health Care Policy at Sydney University points out, all the data is kept in separate silos – some relating to the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme, some relating to the Medical Benefits Scheme (MBS), and some in state public hospitals just to name three of the non-interlinked sources.

    While we lack a systematic method of data analysis and feedback (which was one of the original purposes of Medicare), there are a some studies of cost effectiveness in specific areas of health care, upon which the experts were able to draw. In these three areas of health care, that make up a large proportion of surgical admissions in private hospitals, all the experts were able to identify evidence of ineffective treatment and over-servicing and where resources could be put to better use. As an example Swan pointed out:

    At least half of all back scans and X rays are of no value, and to put that into perspective, that’s at least half a billion dollars over ten years. Now that would buy you a regionally delivered national suicide prevention program that would save 1000 lives a year.

    The experts offered a number of explanations for this waste. One strong message was that the vast majority of the 5700 items on the MBS schedule had never been subject to any rigorous cost-effectiveness evaluation. As Elshaug reminded us, the MBS schedule dates back to the 1960s (when it had only 300 items), when the idea of “evidence based policy” as a standard was still some decades off. It has been easy for advocates, mainly in the medical profession, to add new items to the schedule, but it is very hard to have any removed. Professor Rachelle Buchbinder, Director of the Department of Clinical Epidemiology at Monash University, recounted the great difficulty she had experienced in having just one item removed from the MBS. She was confronted by well-funded corporate interests, and was subject to ad hominem vilification. (We wish Minister Ley the best of luck in her taking on the MBS schedule.)

    Drivers of growth

    Many referred to the availability of imaging technology, referring, for example, to the fact that GPs can now order knee MRIs without going through a specialist. Often discussions about technology in health care degenerate into a romantic and unrealistic call for the clock of technological advancement to be turned back. But Paul Glasziou, Director of the Centre for Research and Evidence Based Practice at Bond University pointed out that imaging and other diagnostic technology is here to stay and is becoming more widely available (have you noticed that “health” app on your smartphone?). As the Productivity Commission pointed out in its 2005 report on medical technology, IT-based technologies in most industries have reduced unit costs, and there is no reason why it should not do so in health care if used properly.

    The problem that Glasziou and others pointed out is that diagnostic technology has given us much more capacity to detect what is “abnormal” or supposedly “wrong” in our bodies. We misinterpret the normal changes associated with ageing, and, as a result otherwise healthy people are turned into “patients”. Our expectations and anxieties as consumers have interacted with GPs’ fear of missing a diagnosis and desire to do something tangible, in the form of delivering a “product” to the patient, leading to a detected abnormality and on to surgery, with all the attendant costs and the possibility of infection and other iatrogenic risks. (A similar motivation to provide some tangible product has been found to be a driver of pharmaceutical over-prescribing.) Doctors are generally dedicated professionals motivated by a strong desire to “do something” for those who turn up in their surgeries.

    But as Robyn Ward, Chair of the Medical Services Advisory Committee said, “often the best medicine is no medicine at all, often the best intervention is no intervention at all”.

    She said that if GPs could explain how certain procedures are ineffective, patients may make better decisions. And if GPs or other health professionals could help people understand that adopting a healthy lifestyle may be more effective (and certainly less costly) than going down the diagnosis-surgery path, there would be better outcomes all around.

    The problem with our current funding system

    But that’s not where the incentives lie in a fee-for-service system. Swan summarised the problem when he said “the way we pay for health services in Australia does not encourage good practice”. We pay for throughput, not for outcomes.

    One perverse consequence of these incentives for over-servicing is that early intervention at the primary care level, which is supposed to result in better health outcomes and financial savings, can actually worsen outcomes and cost money when the incentives are wrong.

    Cardiologists Richard Harper (of Monash University) and Andrew Macisaac (of St Vincent’s Hospital) noted that there was excessive use of angiograms (Harper suggested that up to 43 percent of invasive angiograms were unnecessary), and that these were most likely to occur in private hospitals. There is a confirmation of published findings by Monash University researchers that observed “startling variation” in the use of well-known procedures in Victorian hospitals. They found “in the 14 days following a heart attack, men and women admitted to a private hospital were 2.20 and 2.27 times more likely to receive angiography than their counter-parts in public hospitals”. They were 3.43 and 3.86 times more likely, respectively, “‘to undergo revascularisation” (coronary by-pass surgery, angioplasty and stent).

    That study was published in 2000, around the same time the Commonwealth was strengthening subsidies for private health insurance, in a set of arrangements that de facto linked funding of private hospitals to private insurance. At no time has the Commonwealth evaluated that policy, but independent research suggests that while it has injected a large amount of new money into private hospitals, and into the incomes of medical specialists, it has done nothing to achieve its avowed objective of “taking pressure off public hospitals”, because where the funds have gone, so too have the specialists. If anything the subsidies have sucked resources out of public hospitals and have put pressure on public hospitals to try to match the incomes specialist can enjoy when they work in private hospitals.

    If people who present to private hospitals get more treatment than those with similar conditions who present to public hospitals, then there is certainly some resource misallocation. Either public patients are being under-serviced, or private patients are being over-serviced. The Four Corners program strongly suggests the latter.

    The funding honeypot – private health insurance

    While there were frequent reference to the problems of fee-for-service medicine, the program only touched on the interaction of private health insurance and fee-for-service remuneration, which is where the root of the problem lies. Private health insurance is a major driver of resource misallocation and waste. But since 1997 the Commonwealth has had a policy of supporting private insurance, almost as an end in its own right.

    It is notable that not since 1969 – when the Nimmo Report paved the way for universal public health insurance – have governments subjected private health insurance to policy scrutiny. The principle of evidence-based medicine, and the general bipartisan disdain for industry subsidies, do not seem to apply to private health insurance.

    Although unquestioned support for private health insurance is normally associated with Coalition governments (“Private health insurance is in our DNA was Prime Minister Abbott’s justification), it has become bipartisan. When the Rudd Government set up the National Health and Hospitals Reform Commission it specifically ruled out any scrutiny of private health insurance. The Gillard Government strengthened the Medicare Levy Surcharge penalties for those higher income people without private insurance, and removed the 20 per cent tax offset for those who incur expenses not covered by private health insurance. Only the Greens seem to be committed to the original principles of Medicare as a single national insurer.

    Thanks to the Medicare Levy Surcharge, people on higher incomes (individuals with an income above $90 000 and families with an income above $180 000) are virtually conscripted into private insurance. Quite apart from the problem of promoting a two-tier health system, with the public system reduced to a residual “charity” system, the surcharge has strong incentives for people to use private insurance, and for opting out of sharing his or her health expenses with other Australians. Someone with an income of $150 000 can either buy top hospital cover for around $1300 or pay an extra $2250 in taxes, for example.

    The subsidy to private health insurance comes to more than $8 billion a year according to Commonwealth Budget papers, and is growing strongly. That figure does not include the effect of the Surcharge, which, if it is re-framed as a subsidy for having private insurance (rather than as a penalty for not having it), results in revenue forgone of around $3 billion a year, or a total subsidy of around 11 billion dollars a year. As Jeff Richardson of Monash University once said, not even in the days of high support of manufacturing were the rich actually provided with a taxpayer-funded Holden with change left over.

    With governments ready to provide such permissive access to public money to support private insurance, it is hardly surprising that private health insurance premiums have risen so strongly. Since 2000, while general prices (as measured by the CPI) have risen by 54 per cent, private health insurance premiums have risen by 133 percent – a 50 per cent real increase. As a source of ever-growing funds private insurance has been a honeypot for private hospitals and those who work in them (as well as directing public money that taxpayers may have believed were for health expenditure, to flybuy cards and Coles gift vouchers).

    So long as we have a highly-subsidised private health insurance industry, fee-for-service medicine, and a private hospital system with its own privileged source of funding, these problems will remain. In time we could head to the US system, where private health insurance has resulted in health costs approaching 20 per cent of GDP, and with only mediocre outcomes by the standards of most prosperous countries. (“Obamacare” will solve some coverage problems, but it will not solve the cost problem.)

    The real cost of private health insurance

    There are several independent analyses of the costs of private health insurance – Jeff Richardson’s “Private Health Insurance and the PBS: How effective has recent government policy been?”, an analysis by Don Hindle and Ian McAuley “The effects of increased private health insurance: a review of the evidence”, a Centre for Policy Development paper“Private health insurance: High in cost, and low in equity”, an article for The Conversation by Terence Cheung of the University of Adelaide “Why it’s time to remove private health insurance rebates”, and a chapter in the recently-published book Governomics: can we afford small government?

    A common theme of these works is that measures such as private health insurance, designed to shift costs off-budget, generally result in the public paying more for the same or worse services, with far less accountability or equity, and with much higher administrative costs as slimmed down public agencies (such as Medicare) are replaced by corporate bureaucracies duplicating competitors’ corporate bureaucracies.

    In fact, in the USA, reliance on private health insurance, far from saving public money, has resulted in a blowout in public expenditure. Because health costs are set in an undisciplined market between powerful service providers and comparatively weak health insurers, even the publicly-funded programs (Medicare and Medicaid) are now costing more than the comprehensive single insurer models in place in Canada, the UK and the Scandinavian countries.

    Outcomes, not volume

    In the Four Corners program Robyn Ward called for a system that pays for value and outcomes rather than activity or volume. It’s a view shared by many others.

    It is hard to see how such a system based on outcomes rather than outputs could be developed through any monetary incentive system. One basic problem is that in very few cases is it possible to link any specific health interventions unambiguously to outcomes. There are too many other variables leading to people’s health outcomes, and there is often a very large time lag between interventions and outcomes. When it comes to non-interventions (e,g, the decision not to have a knee reconstruction) the measurement and time lags are even more problematic.

    It is even harder to see how any private insurance-based system can deliver satisfactory consumer outcomes or any significant degree of cost control. The economics textbooks claim that businesses seek profit, while the business textbooks, based on empirical studies of organizational behaviour, see growth and expansion as the prime objective of firms (with profit as a constraint to be satisfied). That growth objective would surely dominate in any scheme relying on financial incentives, leading to over-servicing. The Four Corners program is an excellent exposition of the way private sector incentives lead to such poor outcomes. If costs rise because of over-servicing, the insurers can simply jack up their premiums.

    The benefit of a single public insurer is that Commonwealth Treasurers will always sustain pressure to keep expenditure in control and to achieve value for money. It’s easier for insurers to raise premiums than for governments to raise taxes.

    Public insurance, private and public delivery

    That is not to say the private sector should not be involved. It is simply to point out that private insurance should have no role in funding health care.

    There is clearly a role for personal out-of-pocket (i.e. uninsured) contributions to health care. In fact, such contributions are a feature even of the most generous single insurer models as operate in the Scandinavian countries, and, in a wealthy country such as Australia they should clearly pay their part. When Medicare was first designed we were much less prosperous, but now, on average, households now have around $300 000 in financial assets, a figure that has grown, in real terms, more than 60 per cent this century.

    While we all need to be covered for high health care expenses, we don’t need the “first dollar cover” provided by so many private insurers – the cover that drives us to over-use of health services. Both public and public insurance comes with the same incentive for over-use (“moral hazard” in the quaint language of economics) – there is no difference in the notion “Medicare will pay for it” and “BUPA/Medibank Private/HCF will pay for it”, but, as pointed out above, Medicare comes with the discipline and accountability of public finance, and it is easy for governments to build in compulsory out-of-pocket contributions to lessen moral hazard.

    Out-of-pocket payments provide some price signals to consumers, and they can be designed in such a way that most people who make light use of health services in any one year can be independent of any public funding support, so that public funding can be directed to serious acute and chronic conditions. We already spend around $27 billion a year in out-of-pocket contributions, but, as Jennifer Doggett points out, their incidence is haphazard, and do not adhere to good insurance principles: some health care programs are free at the point of service, while for some others the patient is left bearing open-ended risk. Ham-fisted ideas to bring in open-ended MBS co-payments, as proposed by the Abbott Government, understandably meet with community resistance.

    In the delivery of services the private sector has always played a central role, and will go on doing so. Alarmists often interpret any criticism of private health insurance as an attack on the “private system”, but that’s bunkum. There is no reason why private hospitals cannot be involved in delivering publicly-funded services.

    That model is already operating in Australia through the Department of Veterans’ Affairs, which acts as a single insurer for war veterans, while purchasing most services, including hospitalisation, from the private sector. At a state level there have been initiatives to break this dependence. Victoria, under the leadership of Premier Jeff Kennett first made the offer to private hospitals in the 1990s and the Tasmanian Government has recently offered $25 million of elective surgery cases to private providers. There’s nothing radical about such measures – in fact they are in line with national competition policy that calls for competitive neutrality between private and public sector providers.

    Future dangers – Medicare Select

    The Four Corners program has been a useful reminder of the problems we face in health care, particularly (but not only) the perverse outcomes when private insurance, fee-for-service payment, and a private hospital system separated from public hospitals interact. No doubt private insurers, who will be well aware of these perverse outcomes, will be presenting to government schemes which they claim will solve these problems. For example, arising out of the Health and Hospital Reform Commission’s work, the insurers put forward an idea called Medicare Select, which made great claims about consumer choice and cost control, but which was simply a way of churning even more public funds through health insurers, adding private sector administrative costs to public sector administrative costs, without demonstrating any value-added, other than offering consumers some “choice” of care plans – as if people are in a position to know their future health care needs.

    We could well see the private insurers offer Medicare Select, or some similar proposal, as a “solution” to our problems. Even if such schemes are put forward in good faith, we should heed the lessons from the USA, however, where private health insurers have been quite unable to contain health costs – or perhaps unwilling.

    There are too many parties – medical specialists, private hospital companies, appliance manufacturers, pharmaceutical firms – who would see cost containment as quite inimical to their interests. And there is the whole investment community – superannuation funds, banks stockbrokers, financial advisors – looking for a new growth industry, as profits in traditional industries such as airlines, newspapers and retailing are squeezed.

    Only a strong government can protect us from the economic and health costs of health care becoming a growth industry.

    Jenniffer Doggett is a consultant in the health sector. Ian McAuley is a Adjunct Lecturer, Canberra University. John Menadue chaired Health Enquiries in NSW and SA and was involved with Gough Whitlam in the creation of Medicare.  All three are Fellows of the Centre for Policy Development. 

    ********

    John Menadue posted three articles on health reform as part of the Policy Series ‘Fairness, Opportunity and Security’ which he edited with Michael Keating. Links to those three articles follow.

    Health Policy Reform: Part 1 – Why reform is needed.

    Health Policy Reform Part 2 – Why reform is difficult.Health ministers are in office but not in power.

    Health Policy Reform: Part 3 – Principles for reform.

  • Ian McAuley. Economic Management, Lobbyists and the Coalition Government.

    On Abbott’s political departure David Marr wrote in The Guardian “Within days of his fall he’s looking like a prime minister Australia once had a long time ago”.

    Most people and organisations who have given him unwavering support ever since his narrow win as Opposition Leader in 2009 were remarkably quick in endorsing Turnbull’s judgement that he “has not been capable of providing the economic leadership our nation needs”.

    Of course many independent economists had been saying that and more about Abbott’s economic management – it was indeed disastrous. But the surprising phenomenon was the sudden turnaround by those who had been loyal right up to the end.

    This sudden switch was most noticeable among spokespeople for so-called “business” lobbies (as if “business” is some homogenous collection of like-minded people with identical interests), but it was also noticeable on the street. In the Essential opinion polling in early September voters gave the Abbott government strong marks on economic management, but journalists’ roving microphones in the days after the transition found few, if any, people willing to say anything positive about his economic management. As Bob Dylan said of people who so readily switch their loyalty “You just want to be on the side that’s winnin”.

    In one of those twists of politics it was only the Murdoch tabloids that maintained some level of integrity in not switching loyalty. Otherwise there was a media scramble to revisionism.

    It was reminiscent, in a scaled-down way, of Stalin’s denouncements. Once Bukharin, Rykov and others had been led away after their show trials, it was almost forbidden to utter their names. “Comrade who?” was the polite warning to anyone who made the slip of mentioning those who had been purged.

    Of course Turnbull is no Stalin, indeed in his liberalism he couldn’t be further away politically. But the process takes place almost automatically, best described in Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four, which recounts the story of the hapless Winston Smith, whose job is to re-write newspaper accounts that don’t fit with the contemporary political mood. These days his task would be to sanitize web pages. “We’ve always been at war with Eastasia”, “We’ve always said Abbott was a poor leader”.

    The “right” tried to own Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four as a comment on Stalin’s dictatorship, but its message was directed much closer to home. He wrote it in 1948 when Britain was involved in all manner of rapidly-shifting postwar alliances. (It is in Animal Farm where he deals explicitly with the Soviet dictatorship.)

    Having worked behind the scenes as a public servant and an academic, I can recall many instances when executives in business lobbies have been privately critical of Coalition governments, while publicly giving them their fullest support. So I was not particularly surprised by the sudden turnaround in sentiment last week.

    But I would like it if our lobby groups could break from that puerile and hypocritical practice of giving uncritical public support to Coalition governments, and, to quote from the Prime Minister “respect the intelligence of the Australian people”.

     

  • Ian McAuley. Refugees and German redemption.

    Imagine if Australia were to open its doors to 240 000 refugees.

    That’s twenty times our offer to take 12 000 Syrians, or around the same number as our total annual immigration in all categories.

    It’s what Angela Merkel’s offer of 800 000 places would come to if scaled to Australia’s population.

    Although some may call Merkel’s offer a “brave decision” (a shorthand for suicidal political stupidity in the TV show Yes-Minister), it makes excellent sense on many criteria.

    One way to see it is in terms of hard-nosed economic self-interest. Germany, like most European countries, has an ageing population, leading to a high dependency ratio and an emerging shortage of labour. And a cynic may say getting in early gives Germany the opportunity to take the first pick of refugees, seeking out those who will make the highest contribution to the country’s economy.

    Germany’s economic structure is amenable to immigration, for even those without specific skills (but enthusiasm to work and learn) will likely find employment, because it has what one may call a “grown-up” economic structure – the structure of a truly country (rather than the structure of a high-income quarry).

    It has a thriving manufacturing sector (which is where so many of our migrants, including refugees, found work in the postwar years). By OECD measures, 23 percent of Germany’s GDP is in manufacturing, compared with 7 percent of Australia’s.

    And, although housing is expensive in big cities such as München and Frankfurt, German industry is widespread geographically: in small cities and even villages it is not uncommon to find a factory – usually a private (“Mittelstand”) firm – perhaps a component manufacturer for Audi or a distribution centre for DB-Shenker. German authorities have deliberately intervened in the market to keep economic activity geographically spread across the nation, to keep housing affordable and to develop a market favourable to renters – all important considerations for newcomers.

    But there is more than economic self-interest behind Merkel’s move. In some ways it is a re-assertion of German power, but in 2015, in contrast to 1937, that power is the “soft” power of leadership by example, an example so strong that it has helped move even our recalcitrant prime minister.  (Notably German armed forces are not involved in Iraq or Syria.)

    More basically, it is an act of decency by decent people living in a country still emerging from two generations of division and conflict – a conflict that started in 1914, and ended in 1990 with re-unification. A visitor to Germany is struck by the co-existence of national confidence and a spirit of atonement for the horrors of the Holocaust. It’s a confidence that does not cross the boundary into brash nationalism, and an atonement that makes a dignified matter-of-fact presentation of the Nazi era rather than a wallowing in guilt.

    It has not been easy for Germany. In 1945 the occupying forces had to drag civilians out of their self-imposed denial, forcing them to tour liberated concentration camps and to bury the dead. Until around 1970 most Germans tried to turn their backs on the war – not unlike the idea that in Australia we should reject a “black armband” view of history.  But subsequent generations of Germans have confronted the past. The images of millions of displaced people trudging across Europe in 1945 and 1946 are almost as vivid in the German mind as the image of the drowned toddler washed up on a Turkish beach.

    That’s why Merkel’s decision was not so much a “brave” decision as a response to the demand of the German people to be generous to refugees – what they call their Wilkommenskultur, as demonstrated by opinion polls. It is also notable that those countries responding to the refugee problem with razor-wire barriers are those that have still not confronted their own complicity in the murder of Jews and other ethnic groups.

    Merkel has also been helped by her country’s political culture. Her own Christian Democratic Union Party (CDU) has supported her, and the Social Democrats, her government’s coalition partner, have been even more supportive.

    Theirs is an arrangement Australians, so conditioned to a savagely adversarial Westminster tradition, might find hard to understand. It’s as if we were governed by a Liberal-Labor coalition, with other parties of the far right and the far left occupying a few seats on the wings. Even when Merkel’s CDU governed in its own right up to 2013 there was a less confrontationist political culture between the main parties.

    Germany has supporters of the far right, but they have their own political parties, even including the neo-Nazi Nationaldemokratische Partei Deutschlands. The far right has not infiltrated the CDU, and in general the mainstream parties gain no political mileage in taking extremist positions in an attempt to wedge its opponents. Although Germany lacks the multi-cultural richness that we have come to enjoy in Australia, it has not suffered the legitimisation of racism and religious intolerance that can be generated by opportunistic politicians in mainstream parties – the “dog whistle” as we know it. That would be too reminiscent of the Nazi era. Also, Merkel herself, having grown up in the old East Germany – the Deutsche Demokratische Republik or DDR –remembers how the Honecker regime exercised its system of oppression by having the Stasi root out those supposedly disloyal citizens who were not seen to be part of “Team DDR”.

    Australians may also be surprised to learn that the term “die pazifische Lösung” (the “Pacific solution”), a description of Australia’s policy of dumping asylum-seekers offshore, has made its way into the German language. In itself that may seem to be an innocuous translation, until one realizes that it echoes the term “die ende Lösung” (the “final solution”) that has a longer history in the German language. I have seen the term (and its variant “die australische Lösung”) in German papers, and it even has its own Wikipedia entry. The word Lösung stands out – as in English there are plenty of other words that can be used to describe government policies. And, when pollsters ask Germans what they think of die pazifische Lösung, the response is one of strong moral repugnance.

    We cannot hide behind distance or token responses. Accepting a small number of Syrian refugees may be a good place for us to start, but we have a long way to go on our own path to redemption.

  • Ian McAuley. The ABC and a second chance.

    Current Affairs

    Most reasonable people would be fully behind Mark Scott’s spirited defence of the ABC “as a public broadcaster, not a state broadcaster”, reminding us that “at times, free speech principles mean giving platforms to those with whom we fundamentally disagree.”

    Tony Abbott’s reaction to Zaky  Mallah’s remarks on Q&A is comparable to the religious fundamentalists’ hysterical reaction to the Charlie Hebdo cartoons. When Abbott said “heads should roll”, he was undoubtedly speaking metaphorically, but such language spurs hotheads to extreme violence. It’s a chilling reminder that journalists have been beheaded for upsetting the delicate sensitivities of religious bigots.

    How could Abbott, so familiar with Catholicism and English history, forget the unintended violence King Henry incited when, in a similar offhand remark, he said “who will rid me of this meddlesome priest”?

    Of course Abbott and his loyal followers would be happy if all the media, particularly the highly-trusted ABC, were as uncritically supportive of the government as the Murdoch papers are. But the government doesn’t usually react so strongly as it has to the Q&A incident. Perhaps it touched a couple of raw nerves that other criticisms do not.

    The first raw nerve was touched when Mallah suggested that the intemperate language of government ministers (“dog whistling”) has encouraged people to go to Syria to join IS. His statement was hardly elegant, and if taken out of context could be interpreted as urging people to join IS, but if one listens to the full interchange that is certainly not what he was saying.

    It is quite plausible that government ministers and their strident supporters on talkback radio, have intentionally or otherwise contributed to a feeling of isolation and rejection among some young Muslim Australians, thus elevating the attraction of movements such as IS.  It’s a possibility worthy of serious consideration.

    An academic or professional journalist would not have put the question in the same way that Mallah did, but Mallah is not an academic or journalist. As Shakespeare reminds us fools often speak truths in ways that more respectable people tend to avoid.

    The other raw nerve touched by the incident was the audience reaction to Mallah’s suggestion that Steve Ciobo should leave the country. In one aspect it was simply a tit-for-tat return of Ciobo’s rudeness. But, asAnnabel Crabb  points out, what may have grated with the government was the applause from the audience.

    Maybe the applause was just a normal “goodonyermate” approval of someone giving as good as he gets when confronted with ill-mannered behaviour, particularly when that behaviour is from a politician of the governing party.

    But maybe it was more. A group of Australians, be they in a television studio or any other setting, carries the legacy of our convict history. That history is a rough one as Robert Hughes pointed out, but at its core is the story of redemption – the criminal whose death sentence was commuted to transportation and who made good in New South Wales, and whose genes so many of us now carry. Even though such successes were in the minority, the idea of redemption has helped shape our nation.

    Mallah presented himself as the ticket-of-leave redeemed criminal. The audience was in no position to know whether that was contrived or genuine. But the reaction to the story was a very Australian one, by people who are on the side of redemption.

  • Ian McAuley. Inequality matters

    Policy Series

    Australia has a reputation for egalitarianism, as a country where, in comparison with Old World countries, wages were good and, to quote Lawson, where people “call no reason to call no biped lord or sir”.

    Up to around 1980, Australia’s distribution of income was becoming more equal, but since then inequality has been on the rise: our income distribution is now back to where it was 80 years ago, in the years before the Pacific War. We still do better than the UK and the USA – our usual points of comparison – but in comparison with other prosperous countries, particularly those of northern Europe, we have slipped a long way behind.

    And as income inequality persists so wealth inequality also grows, and wealth inequality tends to be enduring as the advantages of high wealth, and the disadvantages of poverty are passed from generation to generation. We are on the way to having an entrenched “upper class” and a class, not even accurately described as a “working class”, for whom opportunities for economic mobility are blocked.

    It is tempting for governments to dismiss rising inequality with the aphorism “a rising tide lifts all boats”. The idea is that just so long as no one goes backwards in material living standards, all is well.

    This economic philosophy, which has become the basis of undergraduate economics teaching – and therefore the ideas that dominate government treasury departments – is attributed to the Italian economist Wilfredo Pareto, an adviser to Mussolini’s fascist government. It’s not that academics and bureaucrats are attracted to fascism, but they are attracted to the simplicity of Pareto’s economics, absolving them from having to think about moral questions about inequality. It’s a neat cop-out rationalisation for allowing privilege to become more entrenched.

    Pareto’s stamp is on many government policies. The projections of the 2015 Intergenerational Report suggested that over the next 40 years gross income per person will rise by 75 percent, but not for those dependent on the age whose income was to be frozen at 2017 levels.

    It’s extraordinary that any government could have the gall to produce such a projection based on its preferred policy settings, and it’s even more extraordinary that they received such a tame reception in the media (including the ABC). Perhaps this shows the extent to which Pareto’s dismal brand of economics has been absorbed into our thinking.

    Maybe, in the land of the “fair go”, we have come to accept Pareto’s amoral indifference. We get upset when public policy actually takes from the poor (as was the case with the 2014 Abbott-Hockey budget), but not when policies allow for widening inequality.

    Inequality does count, however. It is costly to all – not only to the most disadvantaged. Even those on the right, who pay lip service to the benefits of capitalism and market forces, and who assert that good public policy is about economic progress, should be able to understand that inequality is a problem, because a high level of inequality is symptomatic of deep problems in the economic system.If a society cannot achieve a fair distribution of income, wealth, participation and opportunity there is something wrong with the country’s economic structure. Politicians may see inequality as an unavoidable collateral outcome of a successful economy, but an economic structure that sees most of the benefits accrue to a few while others are left behind can hardly be called a success. It is flawed thinking to assume there must be some tradeoff between “economic” and “social” outcomes.

    Of course many on the right will argue that inequality simply arises from different individuals’ contributions, which in turn arise from different people’s talents and effort.

    But when inequality gets to a high level we must seriously question that assumption. Is a bank CEO paid $10 million really 300 times as talented and hard-working as someone earning a basic wage?

    It’s hard to imagine differences on that scale being innate: it’s more likely that the connection between contribution and reward, which has always been a fairly fragile connection, has become further weakened, and that many people have been unable to develop their full capabilities.

    Market capitalism, as a theoretical system, is based on a linkage between contribution and reward. Even the most right wing economist would agree with that proposition. But when inequality results from inheritance, privilege bestowed by government policy, “old boy” (and “old girl”) networks, corruption and theft, the basic incentives that are supposed to operate in a market economy don’t function.

    There’s no point in working hard or creatively if others will enjoy the benefits. There’s no point in studying difficult courses at university if there is no return for putting in the effort: better to spend one’s student days finding a well-connected spouse, or cultivating friendships with those who have already made it into the ruling class. And if one has mathematical talents, there’s no point in becoming a teacher, engineer or scientist when there are such lucrative rewards in the finance sector, shuffling other people’s money around and taking a commission on the way.

    And when people lack the opportunity to develop their full capabilities there is an additional cost to society. Equality of opportunity is another essential plank of market capitalism and if it is blocked by misallocation of education resources and inadequate attention to children at risk, there is a big opportunity cost of unrealized talent.

    These are the hard-nosed economic costs of inequality, without even venturing into the moral issues of economic unfairness. When those few politicians who have the courage to speak out on unfairness they are often met with the rebuke that they are raising the “politics of envy”, but fair-minded people don’t envy those who have succeeded through their own effort and who enjoy the rewards of having made a contribution to society. Use of the word “envy” does injustice to those who are disgusted by the perversion of economic incentives in our society and by the tawdry rationalizations those who have accumulated unearned wealth use to justify their privileges.

    When people think the cards are stacked unfairly the resulting resentment can have far-reaching consequences. Politics becomes a tussle about preserving or gaining privilege, rather than a contest of ideas about how to improve prosperity for all.

    One manifestation of this tussle is our labour relations system, where both sides fight to retain what they hold rather cooperating in ways to increase wealth. (The notion of a class-based dividing line between “employers” and “employees” is an anachronism but it survives in Australia.) Elections and budgets have come to be about “what’s in it for me”, rather than evaluation of economic policy.

    A “what’s in it for me” approach to inequality doesn’t work. At best it may divide a shrinking pie a little more fairly. 

    Inequality has to be tackled at its root – the nation’s economic structure.

    Policy approaches – eliminate or compensate – distribution or redistribution

    There are two broad policy approaches to reducing inequality. One is to attend to a nation’s economic structure so that inequality is less likely to arise in the first place; the other is to let inequality to arise and to compensate with progressive income tax and social security payments.

    Both approaches have their place, but the emphasis is a matter of policy choice. As a general finding, left-leaning governments tend to favor solutions at source, through attention to labour market, industry, education, regional and other policies, while more right-leaning governments tend to favor compensation through welfare payments. (And, of course, some governments on the right take the view that any form of distributive welfare that goes beyond mere survival destroys the work incentive.)

    To illustrate different countries’ approaches, it is revealing to look at a common indicator of income inequality known as the Gini coefficient. When income is exactly equally distributed, as in some hypothetical socialist paradise, the Gini coefficient is 0.00. In a situation of extreme feudalism, with hordes of starving peasants and one rich warlord, the Gini coefficient is 1.00.

    The table below shows the Gini coefficients for the world’s 17 most prosperous developed countries. The first column shows the coefficients arranged by what is known as “private income”. That is people’s income before governments intervene with taxes, pensions and other cash distributions (“transfers” in economic terms). The next column shows what happens once taxes and transfers are taken into account, and the third shows the extent of the reduction.

    Private income After tax and transfers Reduction due to taxes and transfers
    Switzerland 0.372 0.298 0.074
    Iceland 0.399 0.246 0.153
    Netherlands 0.421 0.283 0.138
    Norway 0.423 0.249 0.174
    Denmark 0.429 0.252 0.177
    Sweden 0.441 0.269 0.172
    Canada 0.447 0.319 0.128
    Luxembourg 0.468 0.271 0.197
    Australia 0.469 0.334 0.135
    Austria 0.483 0.269 0.214
    Belgium 0.483 0.264 0.219
    Finland 0.485 0.265 0.220
    Japan 0.488 0.336 0.152
    Germany 0.492 0.286 0.206
    United States 0.499 0.380 0.119
    France 0.505 0.303 0.202
    United Kingdom 0.523 0.341 0.182
    Gini coefficients 2010, 17 OCED countries with per-capita income >$US 35000

    Note that the range generally aligns with what we already know: the Nordic countries are at one end, while the US and UK are at the other end. Australia is around the middle in private income: this is possibly a reflection of our comparatively young age structure and a reasonably high minimum wage. But after taxes and transfers we don’t do as well as most other countries.

    Note also two patterns, which I call “distributive” and “re-distributive”. The Nordic countries and Switzerland tend to go for distributive policies – that is to pursue policies making sure that private incomes are reasonably well-distributed before the government kicks in with welfare transfers.  By contrast, France, Germany, Finland, Austria and Belgium all have relatively unequal distributions of private income, and rely heavily on taxes and transfers to achieve a degree of equality, thus bringing their ranking up.  (If we had data for Saudi Arabia, Oman and Kuwait they would no doubt show a very high use of transfers to redress a highly imbalanced distribution of private income.)

    Historically, Australia has strived for distributive policies, backed by targeted (often means-tested) re-distribution. The main policy instruments were tariff protection, centralized wage determination, partial or full nationalization of key industries, and tolerance of restrictive trade practices. (“The Australian settlement”). The economic aspiration in the early post-federation years was that every job should be a well-paid job by the standards of the time.  Universal free public education and good public housing, and later universal health care were important components of the “social wage”. 

    The means to realize this aspiration necessarily change. Tariff protection and tolerance of restrictive trade practices are definitely past their use-by dates. So too are many industry-specific subsidies, such as those which have been granted to automobile manufacturers.

    But that doesn’t mean other means cannot meet the same purpose. 

    Public policy – an economic structure to prioritize distribution over redistribution

    As with the past, the starting point should be with structural policies. The vision should be that everyone’s capabilities are developed to the fullest, and that no one so equipped should have to rely on redistributive measures.

    Of course that will never be fully achievable, but it should be standard against which policies are assessed. And it is a more egalitarian policy than simply seeking full employment.

    Full employment, or near-full employment, can be achieved by forcing people into poorly-paid and demeaning jobs through punitive measures, and cutting support to those who need it most. If minimum wages are pushed low enough, and if the alternative to employment is made miserable enough, of course employment will rise, but it won’t be a very productive or motivated workforce.

    Incentives for economic participation should apply across the board. Terms such as “passive welfare”, “lifters and leaners”, “mutual obligation” and the old perennial “dole bludgers”, have some validity if applied to all – the financial planner taking a commission for doing nothing, the “self-funded” retiree enjoying a six digit tax-free income, the executive in a mining firm enjoying government subsidies, the share speculator  making a fortune on lightly-taxed capital gains, and the healthy work-shy twenty-four year old living on an invalidity pension.

    But these terms are applied selectively, generally as part of a right wing agenda of preserving privilege for the well-off. and cutting government services – the “small government” agenda.

    A “small government” however, won’t provide the public goods – the framework of support – necessary for people to realize their capabilities, and will not adequately defend the public interest against rent-seekers and others who seek to prosper from the efforts of others.

    Practical public policy – distribution through investment

    The list below, in a rough hierarchical order, covers ten policy principles which can come together to address inequality. All the first eight are “distributive” policies aimed at strengthening the economy’s productive capacity. Only the last two involving transfers through progressive taxation and cash transfers are primarily “redistributive”.

    1. Invest in human capital. This is primarily about a well-funded public education system as a basis for developing people’s capabilities and achieving equality of opportunity. The most important immediate measure is to implement the Gonski reforms.While school education is important, it is crucial that governments support children at risk. Early childhood is where the foundations for future development are laid down.Also economic disadvantage should not provide a barrier to access to post-school education. Just as in the past we have shifted our norms upwards to what constitutes a basic “free” education, trade certificates and undergraduate degrees should now be fully tax-funded. This is in recognition of the general principle, observed in most human societies for most of history, that the elders have an obligation to support the upbringing of the young.If the community is to enjoy the benefits of a dynamic economy it should make sure that people whose livelihood is threatened by structural change are supported with opportunities for re-training and re-skilling. Public investments in these activities are much lower cost than the alternative – long-term unemployment of displaced workers and political resistance to structural change.
    1. Invest in public goods. A society needs a suite of public goods covering what the market cannot supply or what the market cannot supply efficiently. These include health care, education, security, public health and physical infrastructure. Utilities (water and energy), roads, railroads and public transport remain essential infrastructure for economic participation; to these should be added a national broadband network as originally envisaged.
    1. Use sound counter-cyclical management. Government’s macroeconomic role is to practice counter-cyclical management, compensating for swings in the business cycle, and more actively to use its power to prevent speculative booms and crashes. It has become fashionable to criticize the Rudd-Gillard Government for running a deficit in response to the events of 2008, but that is normal and responsible economic practice. While it is easy to see the cost of a fiscal deficit, it is far harder to bring to measure the cost of the alternative – a loss of employment and output. When, in a downturn, people lose their jobs or close their businesses, some will never get going again.
    1. Develop an economically responsible tax system and regulatory structure. These policies should rewardeconomic contribution and that discourage financial speculation and rent-seeking. In this regard tax reform is crucial – restoring a neutral capital gains tax system (the present arrangements reward short-term speculation while discouraging long-term investment), removing incentives for payment in fringe benefits, closing avoidance provisions such as use of family trusts, re-introducing inheritance and gift taxes, removing the most regressive superannuation tax provisions, removing subsidies for “negative geared” property investments, re-establishing a carbon tax, requiring multinational firms to pay a fair share of tax, and establishing a proper resource rent tax.
    1. Mandate a decent minimum wage. Australia has traditionally had a high minimum wage – it has been a defining feature of our economy. There is an argument that a high minimum wage discourages firms from taking on staff, and this has some validity. But a high minimum wage also ensures that firms have an incentive to employ people productively. When people are employed in low productivity jobs such as parking station attendants, domestic servants and supermarket packers there is a waste of human capital.
    1. Provide social insurance –covering high-cost contingencies. Unemployment benefits, Medicare, drought assistance, age and invalid pensions and the National Disability Insurance Scheme can all be classified as social insurance.Social insurance is necessary because of various failures of private markets to cover risk. Social insurance can be set with high or low safety nets. Publicly-provided social insurance can allow individuals to take more risks in private markets, for example by establishing startup businesses and investing in specialised skills.While social insurance has many similarities with redistributive welfare, and indeed may use some of the same policy instruments (e.g. unemployment benefits), it is redistributive only in the same sense that normal commercial insurance could be described as “redistributive”.   
    1. Support social inclusion.Beyond platitudes about “team Australia” social inclusion does not seem to be a priority of Coalition governments. And there has been a tendency by Labor governments to conflate ideas of social inclusion with redistributive welfare. This conflation has allowed governments to ignore the problem of self-exclusion by the well-off, into literal or metaphorical gated communities, most notably private schools and private hospitals.As a result, services such as public education and publicly-funded health care become re-defined as services for the poor (or “indigent” to use the demeaning American term). Those who are well off, who expect high standards and who have the political clout to demand them cease to have any stake in such services.There should be no taxation or other financial incentives (such as subsidies for private health insurance) that encourage people to opt out of using shared services. Where means-testing is applied to health and education services it should be applied in such a way that supports sharing the services.
    1. Attend to the social wage. The importance of the social wage was asserted in the 1945 White Paper on Full Employmentand re-affirmed by the Hawke Government. It refers to a set of government services and interventions as a complement the minimum wage to support a basic living standard, through provision of publicly-funded health care and education, and attention to important household costs, particularly housing and provision of utilities such as electricity and water. These are areas where markets, left to their own mechanisms, can produce very inequitable effects.Housing affordability has become a major issue in Australia, and needs to be tackled by supply-side interventions, including provision of high quality public housing to exert price competition, public funding of infrastructure for new housing, and spatial policies to quell the arms race pushing up housing prices in desirable locations.
    1. Use progressive taxation. The way taxation is collected can and does have redistributive benefits, but in recent years there has been a concerted campaign towards flattening tax scales because of claimed disincentive effects of high levels of taxation on those earning high incomes.Contrary to mythology justifying the notion of cutting top tax rates, Australia does not have high rates of personal income taxes once compulsory tax-like contributions, such as social security contributions, are taken into account.  Out of those 17 prosperous OECD countries mentioned earlier, only four (Switzerland, Iceland, Luxembourg and Austria) have lower top marginal tax rates than Australia when these compulsory levies are included. Whether high marginal tax rates discourage work is a matter of dispute among economists. Whatever disincentive effects exist may be fully or partially offset by people’s desire to work harder to sustain a desired standard of living. And, of course, there are many motivations other than material living standards driving people to work hard – motivations which tend to be lost in the simplistic and amoral economic models upon which much public policy is based.

      In any event, if high marginal tax rates do discourage some from paid work, that may be a desirable outcome. Those who voluntarily move out of the paid workforce or reduce their hours are not necessarily ceasing to make economic contributions – many are moving to unpaid work, including care for others and volunteer work. And few would dispute the need to distribute work and leisure more evenly.
    1. Use social security payments to support those in need. There will always be a need for cash transfers to those in need, but this form of assistance should not be seen as the first response to rising inequality. The priority should be to measures that allow people to develop their capabilities and to contribute in whatever way they choose.

    Ian McAuley is Adjunct Lecturer, University of Canberra. He has worked on consultancies for Australian and foreign governments, and for international agencies, the UN and the OECD. 

     

  • Ian McAuley and Miriam Lyons – Governomics.

    Current Affairs

    Governomics

    Melbourne University Press have just published Governomics. The book is about the role of government and the importance of the public sector.

    The day after Governomics was launched Geraldine Doogue interviewed Miriam Lyons and Ian McAuley on the ABC Radio National program Saturday Extra.

    The case for government

    In a fightback against the “small government” obsession, Ian McAuley and Miriam Lyons have written Governomics: Can we afford small government?

    It was published on May 1 by Melbourne University Press, and, and was covered in an extensive interview on Geraldine Doogue’s Saturday Extra on the following day.

    In their words:

    “This book emerged from the authors’ many years of collaboration at the Centre for Policy Development, Miriam as executive director and Ian as an external fellow.

    In our work together we have seen two strong trends in Australian public life: one is the dominant idea that the best possible government is an emaciated one; the other is that many who seek change struggle to make their case in economic terms.

    In the din of political slogans about the supposed need to cut public expenditure it is easy to lose sight of the sound economic reasons for investing in public education, for resisting the sell-off of public assets, for taking strong action on climate change, for public funding of health care, for regulating to protect safety standards, for providing decent support for aged pensioners and the unemployed, for allowing modest levels of public debt, and for collecting enough tax to fund these services.

    But while there is no shortage of public passion about these issues, such sound economic arguments are rarely articulated. If the economic debate is left to those who stand to prosper from ‘small government’, the community will lose out.

    In our shared and separate work—supervising researchers and interns at the Centre for Policy Development (CPD), teaching students at the University of Canberra and engaging with diverse communities through ideas festivals—we have worked on ways to help people engage with economic issues.”

     

    It’s a timely reminder in this budget period, where the prevailing assumption, largely unquestioned by the media, is that the task of “budget repair” (a term coined by Hockey and repeated by a partisan media) is to be through cutting expenditure.

    McAuley and Lyons remind us that “small government” comes at a cost. The private sector can fill some of the space vacated by government, but we pay dearly for adhering to that ideology.

    We can fund health care through private health insurance, but as I and others have pointed out that’s a very expensive and inequitable way to achieve what Medicare achieves much more fairly and efficiently.

    We can let the public education system run down, and rely on private schools to fill the gap.  But the costs are enormous. As those who can afford to abandon shared health and education services and enclose themselves in their own “gated communities” of private schools and private hospitals, those government services slowly become transformed into services for the poor or “indigent” (to use the demeaning American term). And parents who value sharing, who value social inclusion, find their choice constrained. McAuley and Lyons, drawing on the work of the economic philosopher Thomas Schelling, show how shared services such as health and education systems can unravel into something resembling segregation.

    Their work is a vigorous defence of the “mixed economy” that has contributed so much to our prosperity in the past. It’s a reminder that when Australia federated we deliberately chose the word “Commonwealth” to describe our new nation. McAuley and Lyons present a strong case for defending the common wealth.  John Menadue

     

     

  • Ian McAuley. Role of government

    Fairness, Opportunity and Security
    Policy series edited by Michael Keating and John Menadue.

    Australia to the 1980s – Government at the commanding heights

    For almost 200 years, from 1788 to the early 1980s, governments held the commanding heights of the Australian landscape.

    The Australia in which I came of age, the Australia of the 1950s and 1960s, would now be described as a “command economy”, notwithstanding the anti-communist rhetoric of the postwar era, championing the liberties of the “free world”.

    The journalist Paul Kelly commented that while we didn’t live under totalitarian rule, we did live under a condition of state paternalism. Governments, state or federal, Labor or Coalition, determined what we could read (remember the fuss over Lady Chatterly’s Lover), whom we could have sex with, and what time the shops should close.

    In the economic sphere government was even more dominant. With all the authority of Soviet central planning, governments determined the shape of the Australian economy, through tariff and quota protection, partial or full ownership in key industries (banking, airlines, railroads, aircraft manufacture, pharmaceuticals, telecommunications), and sanctioning internal restraints on trade. In disregard of Section 92 of the Constitution (the free internal trade bit), for example, local brewing monopolies were protected by prohibitions on trading beer across state borders.

    This economic system must be seen in its historical context, namely the decision, at the time of federation, that Australia would not go down the path of “plantation economies”, such as Argentina, characterised by wide disparities in income and opportunity. Rather, Australia would go down a path of industrialisation as a means of spreading income and opportunity – a process well-described in Ian McLean’s 2012 work Why Australia Prospered. Even the White Australia Policy, although strongly based on racism, had its liberal supporters who saw it as a means of stopping Australia from becoming a society of white masters and colored coolies.

    Also there were the demands of industrial mobilisation during the Pacific War and of national development after the war. There were no private investors waiting to invest in rail gage standardisation, in an international airline, or in a hydro-electric/irrigation/conservation scheme in the Snowy Mountains. (To put the Snowy Mountains Scheme into perspective, its total project cost was about 6 percent of one year’s GDP, which would come to about $100 billion in today’s terms – enough to fund an east coast high speed rail and a proper national broadband system, with change left over to fix up the Pacific Highway.)

    The withdrawal of state paternalism

    The Dunstan Government in Adelaide – “the city of churches” – was the first to push socially progressive legislation on censorship, anti-discrimination, consumer protection and decriminalization of homosexuality, while encouraging multiculturalism and engagement with Asia. Nationally the Whitlam Government was to follow a similar reforming zeal. In social policy state paternalism was on the way out, and Labor was leading the change.

    In the economic sphere it was the Hawke-Keating Government that made the greatest progress in withdrawing state paternalism and giving freer rein to market forces – implementing tariff reform, significant deregulation of the finance sector, a float of the exchange rate, and effective competition policy.

    An enduring myth of Australian politics is that Labor has been the party of “big government”, but in reality Labor has been the party of liberal reform. The myth, which has so well-suited conservative politicians, lies in selective interpretation of what is meant by “big government”, and, more basically, the assumed role government is to take in our lives.

    We often look for quantification of terms such as “big” and “small”, and one that stands out is the size of government spending in relation to GDP – a metric with huge variation even among the 34 member countries of the OECD (from 23 percent in Mexico up to 58 percent in Denmark, with Australian near the lower end at 35 percent).

    But in itself such a metric carries little meaning. A government can be “small” by this measure, while imposing a heavy burden of oppression on its citizens, as was the case with many South American countries in the 1980s. It doesn’t take much expenditure to run a surveillance and police apparatus. Government can be so small as to be absent, leaving citizens to the ravages of gangs and warlords, as in failed or failing states. At the other end of the spectrum are countries with “big” government expenditures, such as Sweden and other Nordic countries, which guarantee civil liberties and offer an attractive environment for business investment.

    In most democracies, including Australia, government expenditure has grown because the legitimate demands citizens have placed on government have grown.

    But what are those demands and what makes them legitimate?

    The wisdom of a US Republican

    Abraham Lincoln stated the role of government:

    “The legitimate object of government is to do for a community of people whatever they need to have done, but can not do at all, or can not so well do, for themselves–in their separate, and individual capacities.” 

    That statement was made 160 years ago in a different political context but it encapsulates what most independent economists and political scientists still see as the legitimate role of government.

    It has two important parts.

    The first is about what people cannot do at all (in their separate and individual capacities). That’s uncontentious: even those on the hard right accept that governments must guarantee the integrity of the currency, provide national defence, and maintain internal security – in fact on these last two functions they tend to go to extremes.

    The other is about what people cannot do so well, and this has become contested territory, particularly in the last 35 years since the rise of the Thatcher Government in the UK and the Reagan Government in the USA. If one believes that the private sector always does better than government, then logically the government should not be involved in anything the private sector can conceivably do. It should vacate education, health care, research, environmental protection and so on – all areas where there is some possibility of private sector provision.

    The Howard Government, for example, adopted what Minister for Administrative Services David Jull called a “Yellow Pages” test for what should be in and out of government: if an activity appeared in the Yellow Pages directory it should be left to the private sector.

    It’s an idea of government, when taken to an extreme, would see a very diminished state. Of course any government pursuing such an agenda confronts electoral opposition, which means that governments of the right concerned with political survival aren’t don’t go the whole hog of privatisation, but the vision remains as an aspiration.

    Opposition to the “small government” aspiration is construed as a reaction of a people who have become too accepting of the “nanny state” and too recalcitrant to accept the need for change. Christopher Pyne’s reaction to the Senate’s blocking of his higher-education “reforms” is a textbook illustration of this attitude – we just don’t know what’s good for us.

    Those on the right fail to notice the irony of this form of paternalism. And the idea that there is validity in the idea that governments can do some things better than the market doesn’t enter their ideologically-primed minds.

    There is a mountain of evidence, however, of the economic benefits of publicly-funded education, health insurance, transport infrastructure and other services where governments do a much better job than the private sector. There is similar evidence that only governments can efficiently mobilise resources for projects with long-term benefits, such as transport systems and broadband networks. There is a whole established economic literature on the limits of markets – the textbook and real-world theory of “market failure” – but politicians who are confident in the intrinsic competence of the private sector can safely ignore evidence and argument, particularly when they have an unshakeable belief in their own economic competence.

    The most extreme version of this belief is not just that the private sector is better, but that the public sector is entirely worthless, as captured in the explicit “beliefs” of the Liberal Party, where it is stated that: “businesses and individuals – not government –  are the true creators of wealth and employment”, implying that the efforts of police, teachers, nurses and others on the public payroll are worthless, as are public assets such as highways and art collections.

    Even those few on the right who do accept that markets fail tend to respond with the claim that government failure is always worse: it’s better to put up with the lesser evil of monopolisation, injustices of asymmetric market power, administrative duplication in the private sector, the short-term focus of corporations and so on, than the greater evil of government incompetence and waste.

    Public choice theory

    The idea that incompetence and waste are inevitable in government undertakings is given a fig leaf of academic respectability in a theory known as “public choice”, which has been popular in some Australian universities (the nurseries for treasury officials and most politicians).

    The nub of the theory is that governments face inexorable pressure to grow. Public servants and ministers, whatever their left/right labels, always enjoy the benefits of bureaucratic expansion, just as (it is supposed) business executives enjoy managing a big company rather than a small one, and voters’ demand for more services is insatiable. President Reagan summarized public choice theory even more succinctly when he said “Government is like a baby. An alimentary canal with a big appetite at one end and no sense of responsibility at the other”.

    While the expansionary aspirations of business executives are kept in check by shareholders (a naive assumption), governments have the power to tax – or, better still, to incur debt and to push the pain of repayment on to future voters (an argument that ignores the power of oversold IPOs and share issues to lure mug shareholders in the private sector).

    A related aspect of the theory is that governments offer too many openings for rent-seekers – those who can use political clout to secure privilege such as a protected monopoly or a favourable re-zoning of land. It’s best not to have the agencies which have the discretion to offer such privilege.  (There is no acknowledgement that good government is about upholding community interests, and that in an unregulated laissez faire situation monopoly and collusion will prevail.)

    The net conclusion from public choice theory is that good government is about applying countervailing pressure to these drivers of growth.

    The ultimate model of government to emerge from public choice theory is that government is just another “interest group”, like the trade union movement or the mining lobby – admittedly with some differences, but still with the motivation of self-interest – rather than any notion of the public interest or public service. It may hold certain assets, but only as a reluctant owner, rather than as a custodian of the common wealth. (Listen to the language – it’s not about “our” government or “your” government, but rather “the” government.)

    The weakness of public choice theory is that it rests on weak or false assumptions: an infantilized view of the electorate (as if people are too stupid to see the connection between taxes and services); an expansionist assumption about the motivations of public servants; and  a complete dismissal of any motivational idea other than self-interest.

    It also misinterprets the relationship between people and the governments they elect, a misunderstanding illustrated in the heated debates over privatisation.  Governments pushing privatisation behave in the same way as investment bankers may – “sell BHP, buy RIO”, “sell the electricity grid, buy tollways”. That detached role is not the way the public see it.  It’s their government, with a custodial responsibility for their assets.

    The outcome of these ideas – weakened and distanced government

    This faith in the intrinsic virtue of “small government” may arise from genuine belief or it may be a rationalization to give respectability to ideas serving the interests of those who can profit (in the short run at least) from a weakened state – crony capitalism in other words.

    The vision of the public purpose is that it is best served by the government retreating as far as possible.  (An extreme manifestation is to dismiss the very idea of public purpose. If, as British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher said there is “no such thing as society”, logically there can be no “public purpose”.)

    Governments infused with these ideas grudgingly go on providing public services, only because it would be costly to their survival if they did not, and a less fiscally responsible government may take their place. That probably explains the Federal Liberal Party’s “beliefs” and electoral strategies, which are focussed almost exclusively on keeping Labor out of office, rather than articulating any agenda – it’s not “negative politics”, just a frank description of the political scene through the eyes of a Party member. It’s a paternalistic guardian, rather than a party of competing ideas. That’s why it’s so devoid of inspiration: it’s hard to inspire political enthusiasm when your political aspiration is to close the show down.

    A related idea is that if it’s hard to wean an electorate off public spending, then its best to do so by diverting the composition of government outlays away from spending on services and on to spending on cash transfers. Rather than providing schools, clinics, roads and so on, public spending is best directed at cash handouts (such as family benefits) or tax concessions (such as those applying to superannuants). That way some of the evil of public spending can be ameliorated, because the final spending decisions are in the hands of individuals rather than public servants. Choice is left to the individual. (In reality choice is left to those who , through advertising and other market manipulations to shape people’s consumption.) 

    The Howard Government’s generosity with the proceeds of the mining boom, which went to cash transfers for “middle class welfare” while spending on education and infrastructure was squeezed, is illustrative of this philosophy. When we look at the growth of government expenditure over the last 50 years, we see that spending on government services has risen modestly, from 15 percent to 18 percent of GDP, while the growth in personal transfers has doubled from 4 percent to 8 percent of GDP. At the Commonwealth level the trend is even more marked.

    It would be wrong to attribute these attitudes entirely to any one party. They may be most clearly manifest in the Liberal Party, but they have infected Australia’s public discourse to the extent that it is now accepted almost without question that the only way to achieve a fiscal balance (in itself an over-simplified goal) is through cutting expenditure rather than raising revenue.  (When did you last hear an ABC journalist, quizzing a minister about a budget cut, ask “Yes Minister, but have you looked at the possibility of raising revenue – after all Australia is getting by with very low taxes?”)

    It was a Labor Government in the 1980s that instituted a set of “reforms” which ultimately saw fiscal management take over from economic management – to the extent that documents such as those comprising the Charter of Budget Honesty and the Intergenerational Report effectively posit fiscal management (in reality fiscal stringency) as the sole aim of economic policy. Economic policy should be about the whole community’s interests, while fiscal policy is simply about public expenditure and revenue.

    “Reforms” under the rubric “new public management” transformed the public servant from a servant of the public to a servant of the minister, with responsibility not for the public interest, but for controlling expenditure within his or her own agency’s appropriation. If budgetary savings can be made by denying services or by shifting costs “off budget” (for example from education departments to parents, from health departments to private insurers), that’s good management, even if there is a net economic cost to the community.

    Gone are the ideas of benefit-cost-analysis, which consider the community’s costs (e.g. travel time in location of schools and libraries).  At best benefit-cost-analysis is used only as a tool for dealing with limited funds for capital spending, to get the best out of miserly allocations.

    And gone is the idea of the common wealth.  Even the name of our nation – The Commonwealth of Australia – looks like an anachronism in this brave new world of “small government”.

    Restoring the common wealth

    There’s no need to go looking for some new role of government – Lincoln laid it out.

    Of course there are changes in how this role is realised. Demographics change, which means there is more need for spending on age pensions. Technologies change, which means that more options for health care become available, while some functions once reasonably reserved for government, such as telecommunications, can have more private sector involvement. And relative prices change, which means that while many items of private consumption (cars, travel, entertainment) have become cheaper, some services provided by government, including education, health care and policing, necessarily remain labour-intensive and therefore expensive: it is quite reasonable that relative expenditure on these public services should go on growing for some time (a consideration entirely overlooked in banal fiscal documents such as the Intergenerational Report.)

    A restoration of Lincoln’s common-sense understanding of the role of government or the value of the common wealth isn’t going to arise from a simple change in political actors. There is no messianic political “leader” who will take us out of this neoliberal darkness. Public ideas develop over time, through the contributions of many. The task is up to all of us, and let me conclude with some advice to those who have voice in the community.

    Politicians (established and wannabe) – question the assumptions of your platforms and of the strategists in your party. Take it on yourselves to learn about the workings of the “mixed economy”, that has contributed so much to Australia’s prosperity in the past. Learn a little basic economics about how and why markets sometimes work well and sometimes fail. 

    Journalists – put at least as much effort into reporting on public policy as you do on politics, and remember that fiscal management is only one small aspect of economic management. Remind Australians of some hard facts, such as our low tax base.  And don’t let a concern for “balance” displace your concern for seeking the truth. Don’t be afraid to expose lies and hypocrisy.

    Public sector unionists – don’t campaign about your jobs. Every time you complain that some privatisation or cutback will cost your members’ jobs, the public interpretation is that the activity in question is overstaffed, playing straight into the hands of your detractors. Campaign about public services – and then your jobs will be secure.

    Business lobbies – it may be clever in the short term to campaign for lower taxes or cuts in public spending. Such measures will naturally help your immediate profitability to the pleasure of your shareholders and managers. But remember that the success of capitalist economies rests on a wise mix of public and private goods, and on public policies that link contribution to reward and protect the vulnerable. It has taken strong governments to protect capitalism from its own self-destructive tendencies.

    “Social progressives”, “greens”, “the left” – engage with economics.  It’s not difficult. If you don’t, others will, perpetrating the absurd but glibly appealing ideas that there are conflicts between economic and social objectives and between economics and environmental objectives. If you don’t state your case, these false ideas will dominate.

    Australia and similar democracies have done well because economic progress  has been a shared venture between the public and private sectors. Our prosperity is built on that shared venture, including the accumulated contribution of governments in education, health care, physical infrastructure and a host of other services that we’re too inclined to take for granted.

    As Aristotle warned “That which is common to the greatest number has the least care bestowed upon it”. We need care for our common wealth.

    Ian McAuley is Adjunct Lecturer, Canberra University.

    The ideas in this paper are expanded in a book ‘Governomics: Can we afford small government?’ written by Ian McAuley and Miriam Lyons, which was published on 1 May 2015 by Melbourne University Press.

  • Ian McAuley. If the government wants price signals, it should stop supporting health insurance.

    Prime Minister Tony Abbott has declared the Medicare co-payment proposals “dead, buried and cremated”, but two related ideas behind it live on: Medicare is becoming “unaffordable” and our universal health system should morph into a program reserved for the poor.

    The government’s original justification for the co-payment was to bring more “price signals” into Medicare. In itself the idea has merit, but the government has been going about it in a ham-fisted way.

    Whether by design or accident, the government seems to be undermining the principle of Medicare as a universal tax-funded program, paving the way for private health insurance toplay a role in funding primary care.

    But private insurance, by its very nature, suppresses price signals and encourages over-servicing and cost escalation. It is an expensive way to fund health care.

    If the government wants more price signals in health care, it can start by standardising the mess of arbitrary co-payments in health care. If those co-payments can be re-designed to carry meaningful price signals, they will guide wise choice and contribute to efficient resource allocation.

    The government should also consider requiring those better-off Australians, who have much more liquid savings than in times past, to contribute more to their own health care from their own pockets rather than assuming that someone else – Medicare or private insurance — will cover the minor outlays they could easily afford themselves.

    The unaffordability myth

    It’s easy to panic about the looming cost of health care as Australia ages. That has been the message of successive Intergenerational Reports, the latest of which suggests that under “previous policy” (Labor government) setting, Commonwealth health expenditure would rise from 4.4% to 7.1% of GDP by 2054, but would be contained to 5.7% of GDP under the government’s “proposed policy”.

    The sensible response to these projections is to ask “so what?”. As the population ages, Australians will indeed spend more on health care.

    But simply shifting costs off-budget and on to individuals, or to private insurance mechanisms is an expensive and clumsy way to fund health care. It does not make health care more “affordable” – we still have to pay for it.

    As John Deeble, one of Medicare’s original designers, pointed out, the simple solution to fiscal pressures on the Commonwealth’s health budget is to raise the Medicare Levy.

    The government said that imposing a co-payment and reducing bulk-billing would result in reduced use of Medicare services, which have risen from 11 to 15 a head over the last ten years.

    That idea would be sound if Medicare services were stand-alone, but any reduction in demand would most probably be among those in most need of care, particularly early intervention to stave off costly episodes of hospitalisation and chronic disease. And there would be a shift of demand on to hospital emergency services.

    The costs to health budgets and to the whole economy (in terms of lost workforce participation resulting from chronic illness), could well be far greater than any saving in Medicare.

    But, as the Public Service Commission’s capability review of the health department points out, the department tends to work in “silos”, and seems to lack the capability of considering “whole-of-health-system policy”.

    Under pressure to cut expenditure, Medicare is the easy target. Costs outside the “Medicare” silo are not their concern, and if they can move some load on to individuals, private insurers or state government hospitals, that’s clever cost-shifting. That’s not so much a “policy”, which would be concerned with the public interest, as an attempt to contain outlays within an arbitrary fiscal limit.

    Exempting the rich from price signals

    The specific co-payment idea came from the government’s Commission of Audit, which saw it as a first step in a stealthy but radical transformation of health services away from universalism, towards a US-style system with “an expanded role for private insurance” to “cover all services covered by Medicare and public hospitals”.

    Medicare would be reduced to a service for the “indigent” (to use the US term).

    Despite dumping the co-payment, health minister Sussan Ley still wants to “reduce the number of bulk billed consultations to people who can afford to pay something”. This suggests she sees Medicare as a charity or distributive welfare system, not a universal system as it was originally envisaged.

    As the freeze on Medicare reimbursements bites harder, bulk-billing will probably fall (as intended), resulting in mounting pressure on the government to change the legislation and permit private health insurance to cover the gap.

    The Commission hypocritically calls for people with means to take “individual responsibility for their health care”, but to be guided by “price signals” while they are herded into private health insurance.

    But private insurance is no more about “individual responsibility” than Medicare is: it’s still about handing over responsibility to a third party. Far from incorporating “price signals”, it simply changes the message from “Medicare will pay for it” to “HCF/BUPA/Medibank Private will pay for it”. This incentive for over-use is known as “moral hazard”.

    Co-payments and personal savings

    It’s easy to forget that we already have co-payments in health care. Out-of-pocket expenses, not covered by public or private insurance, account for 18% of health care expenditure, in line with other prosperous countries.

    But the breakdown of out-of-pocket expenses is messy and haphazard; a reflection of the “silo” arrangements in the health department. Expenses fall heavily on dentistry, specialist services and non-prescription medications. Many are uncapped, meaning the consumer is left bearing open-ended risk.

    It’s also easy to forget that Australians, on average, have enough liquidity to cope with modest co-payments when a need arises. Australian Bureau of Statistics data show that on average, households have A$37,000 in available funds.

    If we want price signals in health care, then there is a good case for requiring personal payments for those with means, without the moral hazard of third party payment.

    Some commentators suggest we should go down the path of health savings accounts, whereby people are required to set aside funds in personal accounts to be drawn on only for health care needs. Only when a person’s health savings account is depleted does the state cover additional expenses.

    Health savings accounts certainly have advantages over private insurance, in that they retain a measure of individual responsibility, and they tend to accumulate with age.

    But they have their own problems, in that when someone’s HSA reaches a high level there is a “use it or lose it” form of moral hazard. And in economic terms, they tend to privilege health spending over other consumption, thus distorting consumer choice.

    In any event, Australia’s compulsory superannuation is already serving some of the same purpose as health savings accounts. Once Australians retire, their superannuation balances become accessible as personal accounts (apart from those whose superannuation is in annuity form). Including superannuation, singles over 65 have on average A$170,000 in reasonably liquid assets, while couples have A$430,000.

    We could be served well by a requirement that all with means pay for their health care up to a limit before Medicare kicks in to cover high costs. That’s essentially the policy the Coalition took to the 1987 election, when it proposed that all who could afford it should contribute the first A$250 a year to their health costs (equivalent to about A$800 now), without the support of insurance.

    That would mean most people make no call on public funds in any one year, while preserving the universality of Medicare as a single national insurer, covering those with high needs or limited means.

    That’s essentially the Nordic model. It combines the best or market price signals and the power of a government insurer, without the distortion and high cost of private health insurance or fiddly and paternalistic measures such as health savings accounts.

    Ian McAuley is Lecturer, Public Sector Finance at University of Canberra. This article was first published in The Conversation on 1 April 2015.

     

  • Ian McAuley. The speech that Tony Abbott almost delivered to the National Press Club.

    Was this a spoof?

    There are ‘claims’ that the following speech appeared on the websites of the Liberal Party and the Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet on the day that Tony Abbott gave his speech to the National Press Club, but it was taken down as soon as it was found that the Prime Minister was delivering a different speech – presumably one prepared entirely in his own office.

    For delivery National Press Club – 2 February 2015

    Let me start with a “thank you” to the people of Queensland.

    My gratitude may surprise some. As leader of the Federal Coalition I am naturally disappointed to see one of our own lose office. But last weekend the people of Queensland sent us a loud wake-up call.

    It wasn’t our first wake-up call. We have had many since we were elected 16 months ago, but each time we have lazily reached for the “snooze” button.

    We have been too cocksure, too ready to believe our own propaganda, too ready to read the columns of sycophantic journalists, too ready to take plaudits from people of our own tribe.

    Each political setback – failures of Coalition parties in elections in South Australia, Victoria and Queensland, the Senate’s rejection of our education and health bills, a string of poor opinion polls – we have put down to an inability to get our message across.

    It didn’t occur to us that the electors may have heard and understood our message all too clearly, and that they have rejected it.

    It didn’t occur to us that they could see through the accounting tricks of “asset recycling” and “leasing”.

    It didn’t occur to us that they rejected the idea that everything that’s good for the private sector is necessarily good for Australia.

    In short, we have been saying, paternalistically, “we know what’s good for you”.  Our side of politics has often accused parties of the “left” of paternalism, but we have been blind to our own transgressions.

    Paternalism, I need to remind myself, and my Parliamentary colleagues, has no place in the Liberal Party.

    I take the brunt of responsibility for these failures. I have made too many “captain’s calls”.  When I have consulted it has been with my hand-picked colleagues, particularly a cabinet which, I now realise, is not even representative of the views of the members of the Coalition parties.

    I have ignored those who spend time in their electorates listening to the views, ideas and aspirations of the Australian people.

    I have been too ready to listen to those who agree with me, and to disregard my critics – to assume that those who disagree with us are our enemies rather than people of good will offering sound advice.

    My appointment of a Commission of Audit, bypassing the established policy processes of government, I now acknowledge was a grave mistake.

    When people criticised our budget we accused them of short-sightedness, of a failure to understand the need for fiscal responsibility. We didn’t realise that people may be ready to make sacrifices for the public good, provided the pain and effort are shared fairly.

    I have been too ready to blame the previous Government for the nation’s problems. They did a reasonable job in reacting to the financial crisis and its aftermath. I do criticise them, however, for failing to attend to our weakened public revenue base. The last years of the Labor Government saw many promises – including excellent initiatives in education and disability services – but there was no plan to raise the revenue to fund them.

    We made the mistake of dealing with this fiscal gap through cutting expenditure rather than raising revenue.

    We listened only to those who stood to benefit from privatisation, forgetting that people legitimately expect their governments to do what the private sector cannot do, or cannot do so well, and are willing to pay for public goods and services.

    We made the fiscal task harder for ourselves by repealing and reversing plans to raise taxes, most significantly the tax on carbon emissions. We failed to appreciate that these taxes, besides contributing fiscally, were designed to help Australian industry adjust.

    I now realise that we have let down many of Australia’s most energetic and creative entrepreneurs, who, in times past, would have been strong supporters of the Liberal Party.

    Those who had plans for renewable energy investments.

    Those who had intended to build businesses around high speed broadband.

    Those who had drawn on publicly funded research in universities and the CSIRO to develop new products and processes.

    We didn’t listen to them.  Rather, we were too ready to give an ear to established businesses, the big donors to our party.

    It would be tempting to use an occasion like this to announce a few populist sweeteners – tax breaks for small business or handouts for families.  But that’s the very policy on the run that has characterised Australian politics for far too long.

    Rather, I want to announce the general policy directions we will be taking.

    First, we are taking proposals for health and education back to the drawing boards to be subjected to full community consultation, with more considered proposals ready for next year’s election. In the meantime we will restore funding to ensure these sectors, particularly the universities, are not disadvantaged.

    Second, we will review all funding cuts made since we came to office and in Labor’s last year in office. Most of these were made with too little consideration or appreciation of the economic benefits of public services.

    Third, we will do this in a fiscally and economically responsible way.

    That means repairing our revenue base.

    To this end I call on those Australians who have benefited so much from public spending – defence, infrastructure, education, health care – to contribute more. Our budget to be handed down in May will have measures to close holes left by successive governments’ tax concessions for superannuation, short-term capital gains, investor housing, family trusts and corporate perks.

    That means the task of fiscal repair will not fall on those who have most rather than least capacity to pay. We are also mindful of the risk to consumer confidence and demand when the purchasing power of the least well-off is diminished.

    Once we have completed our Cabinet re-shuffle, our to-be-appointed Treasurer will announce more details.

    One certainty is that we will restore a carbon pricing mechanism. It will be more comprehensive that Labor’s half-hearted scheme, covering transport fuels and exported coal. And, in keeping with the principles of our Party, it will be market-based.

    Also in keeping with the principles of the Liberal Party to provide business with stable policy, I announce that there will be no change to the Renewable Energy Target.

    Our infrastructure plan remains intact; in fact we will expand it, but I am pleased to announce that “asset recycling” is now dead, cremated and buried. We will consider privatisation only when there is no longer a benefit in public ownership.

    It would be economically irresponsible not to take advantage of our credit rating to borrow at the low rates available to us to invest in rail, road, public transport, research, environmental repair and other public goods, so badly neglected by past governments. Handing these to the private sector, whose cost of capital is so much higher than the government’s, is simply wasteful, and can result in higher national debt than if the government is to fund these projects.

    That means there will be an increase in our already low public debt, but we will raise the taxes to service that debt.

    Our focus from here on will be on the public balance sheet, compensating for years of neglect of our public assets. I bear some personal responsibility for allowing fiscal policy to crowd out all other aspects of economic policy, but I also ask journalists here today to lift the quality of economic debate beyond “gotcha” attacks on failures in budget projections.

    That is our economic agenda, but I have several other announcements relating to political donations, Australian honours, refugees and ……..

     

  • Ian McAuley. Pyne on education funding.

    A good friend is someone who, when you’ve had too much to drink at a Christmas party, ignores your protests and takes your car keys to prevent you driving home sozzled. You’re surely grateful the next morning.

    When he gets back to the Adelaide’s leafy eastern suburbs and has regained his composure, Christopher Pyne might realize that Senators Lambie, Lazurus, Wang and Xenophon, in rejecting his university ‘reforms’, have saved him and his government from something almost as bad as a DUI conviction. In a country where almost everyone aspires to a tertiary education for themselves or their children, deregulating fees after cutting public support for universities by 20 per cent is a sure election loser.

    He might even show his gratitude by sending Christmas cards to the four Senators.

    Because the landscape of tertiary education is changing there are genuine reforms to be pursued. Information and communications technology is having a huge effect on tertiary education, but those who believe a university course can be delivered over the Internet in the same way as one downloads a novel from Amazon seem to have missed some important learning in their own education. Employers are increasingly interested in demonstrable skills rather than certificates, and graduates are increasingly finding themselves moving away from their initial disciplines, but a swag of technical skills is not the same as a capacity for critical thinking and an ability to live as a responsible and engaged citizen. And there is a need to bring TAFE and universities closer together, but this should involve the inclusion of more liberal content in technical education, as is the case in northern European countries, rather than pushing universities even further along the path of commercialization.

    If the government wants these issues addressed, it must restore funding to the tertiary education sector, already badly savaged by the Rudd-Gillard Government before this Government cut funding even further.

    Some Senators are arguing for a return to free university education, a proposal that’s unthinkable to either of the two main parties. It’s not unthinkable in Germany however, where Niedersachsen has just become the last state to abolish university tuition fees (joining with the Nordic countries), and it shouldn’t be unthinkable in Australia.

    The political rejoinder is that to do so would involve billions of extra government debt. But the Government’s proposal also involves funding through debt – individual debt rather than government debt, and Australians already have high private debt. Whether Australians pay for tertiary education through HECS-type repayments or future taxes, that debt still has to be repaid. In a macroeconomic sense the form of debt makes no difference.

    Where the difference comes, however, is in who chooses to go to university and what courses they choose. It’s easier to risk a $100 000 or $50 000 debt if, in time, you are likely to inherit a share in a million dollar house, and if you choose a course in corporate law rather than teaching. That’s the unfairness and gross misdirection of resources of Pyne’s proposals.  They disingenuously combine both inequity and economic waste – the waste of leaving many people’s capabilities underdeveloped.

    Even better than either HECS or public debt, however, would be restoration of university funding through collecting more taxes from those who have enjoyed free or heavily-subsidised university education. Reforming ‘negative gearing’, restoring the pre-2001 capital gains rules, prohibiting use of family trusts for tax avoidance and removing superannuation concessions favouring high-income earners all come to mind.

    It’s time for the baby-boomers to repay their debts to society and to contribute to educating those who come after them.

     

  • Is capitalism redeemable? Part 9: Restoring a moral voice

    It is easy to allocate blame for our apparent entrapment in bad public policy. Tony Abbott’s truculence, disregard for reason, inflexibility and broken promises all come to mind. As does the blatant partisan stance of the Murdoch media.

    Those who look for more general causes draw attention to dysfunctional party structures, an adversarial parliamentary system and sloppy journalism.

    It is useful to go a little deeper than these specific manifestations, and ask why so many of us are indifferent to such problems. Why have we turned our back on Enlightenment values – those values which a century ago saw Australia take a world lead in female suffrage, decent wages, pensions and good government generally? In a country that has made such strides in mass education, how come tabloid newspapers still command any readership and how come spiteful shock-jock radio hosts hold their audiences?

    Australians have always been a sceptical lot, but scepticism seems to have morphed into cynicism, and more generally a creeping atmosphere of nihilism is stripping all consideration of morality from our public debates.

    One starting point is to look back to the unrest of the 1960s. To shift Wordsworth’s context, “Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, but to be young was very heaven!”. It was a revolution against the hypocrisy exhibited by society’s moral guardians, against race and sex discrimination, against colonialism, and against a pointless war. All ideas were up for grabs, all nostrums were up for question.

    Into that space came the philosophy of postmodernism, a philosophy holding that there is no reality, just subjective viewpoints. Your viewpoint, my viewpoint, her viewpoint – all are equally valid. It was an easy philosophy to embrace because it required no moral references, and it dispensed with the need for reason or logic. While the hard thinkers were making the case for tolerance, respect and humility in issues of race and sex discrimination, those who embraced postmodernism took the easy path of adopting the amoral view of cultural relativism – even, in extreme cases, not objecting to practices such as selective abortion of female foetuses and genital mutilation, and considering the Holocaust to be no more than a subjective interpretation of history.

    Although emanating from the “left”, postmodernism has spread its influence across the political spectrum. If there are no moral standards as reference points, then we don’t have to worry too much about what Louise Newman says about children in detention or what Tim Costello says about poker machines: Newman and Costello are entitled to their “opinions”. ABC staff interpret their charter to give balance to contrasting “views” on climate change, and leave unchallenged politicians’ most egregious lies: if government ministers say that Labor left a record deficit, or that no other country has emissions trading (both easily dismissed by reference to authoritative sources) they’re just “opinions”, not to be questioned any more than the minister’s choice of a blue tie over a red one.

    And, as we all know, the quickest way to put down a political argument is to say “there are two sides to every story”, before moving on to less unsettling dinner table discussions, such as comparisons between New Zealand and South Australian Hills Sauvignon Blanc, or the noise levels of BMW and Mercedes Benz cars.

    Also developing from the 1960s has been a general downplaying of the more rigorous academic disciplines, most clearly manifest in the relative fall in enrolments in science and mathematics, and also in an erosion of logical rigour in many other disciplines. Students can get through a whole high school education and university degree without exposure to the basic tools of critical thinking, such as understanding deductive logic or the rules of scientific inquiry.

    When people don’t have recourse to tools of critical thinking, logically empty statements such as “I cannot guarantee there were no terrorists on that refugee boat”, or “Not all Muslims embrace the views of ISIS” come to carry meaning for the casual listener. The use of statements which are correct in logic but misleading in content is known as “sophistry” to philosophers and as “dog whistle” politics in more general parlance. John Howard was a master in sophistry and Abbott, though more gauche, follows his footsteps. Similarly, if people don’t understand the conditionality of hypotheses and the role of attempted refutation in scientific method, they are likely to believe that the question of climate change is one of great uncertainty and disagreement between experts.

    Ironically, the nihilism which arose as a by-product of student radicalism in the 1960s may have made it easier for universities to drift into the world of commerce, where faculties are treated as business units, where students become customers, and where the starting salaries of graduates become the prime measure of success. The enthusiasm with which so many vice chancellors have embraced the Government’s tertiary education “reform” proposals would render C P Snow and John Henry Newman speechless.

    Although the churches condemned some of the movements of the 1960s, in various ways they too have dealt themselves out of the moral debate, paving the way for nihilism.

    A few religious movements, particularly in some of the fundamentalist Protestant churches, have espoused bitterly anti-Enlightenment values in relation to evolution, in literal interpretation of scripture and in reduction of morality to the ten categorical rules that guided Moses to keep his restive tribe in order.

    Throw out the love of learning and reasoning that sit at the core of the Enlightenment, however, and you throw out the tools which allow us to handle complex moral problems – and most moral problems that count are complex. Good public policy is often about finding practical reconciliations of conflicting moral principles.  (By contrast Australian-style politics is more about a supposed Manichean conflict between good and evil.)

    The other moral distortion has come from parts of the Catholic Church and from some other religious groups, and that’s an obsession with sex, allowing concerns with sexual behaviour to crowd out almost all other moral issues. Also, as we uncover the history of political events in Spain, Portugal and Chile, we learn that people with positions of authority in the Catholic Church have been involved in terrible transgressions of human rights. More recently, revelations of sexual abuse have exposed widespread gross hypocrisy. Logically, one should distinguish between the corruption of an institutional church from its moral teachings, but that separation is a big ask for those who feel betrayed by those they have trusted.

    To his credit the present Pope is trying to address wider moral issues, and there are similar movements in other faiths, but they are up against institutional inertia. In spite of separation of church and state in our constitution, the Anglican and Catholic Churches have become intertwined with government, the former through de-facto establishment in colonial times, and the latter through dependence on government support for its schools and hospitals. If we are looking for moral leadership from the church it is worth remembering that Martin Luther King’s effectiveness owed a great deal to his separation from the political establishment.

    The task of confronting lies with truth, and of restoring some moral stance to public life, is a great one. There are voices – in the political sphere Bob Oakeshott, Tony Windsor, John Faulkner, Lindsay Tanner, and John Hewson come easily to mind, and undoubtedly there are many politicians working quietly behind the scenes. These people all need strong support, because their stances have been met with some of the most vile abuse imaginable.

    But we cannot wait around for some messianic “leader” to take us to the promised land of a decent society, like sheep waiting for a drover and his border collie. The task of leadership does not reside solely with the people in positions of authority – indeed, those people often face constraints that limit their capacity to raise hard issues. To take one prominent illustration, it may appear to many people that Malcolm Fraser has gone through some Pauline conversion, but the more likely explanation for what looks like a change of behaviour is that he has been free of the shackles of political office for the last thirty years.

    That’s why the task of moral leadership is one that falls on all of us, in our various modest but collectively effective roles.

     

     

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 8: Inequality’s downward economic spiral

    Let’s start with what looks like a self-evident proposition. “Countries with right-wing or neoliberal governments spend less on social security than countries with more left-inclined governments.”

    It’s a proposition university lecturers put to students of public economics, and the smarter students usually recognize that there’s a trick in it.

    Harvard economists Dani Rodrik and Alberto Alesina studied the impact of neoliberal policies such as those pursued by Britain’s Thatcher Government, and found that those policies, because they resulted in widening inequality, actually increased the demand for social security payments.

    Whatever images they may project, it’s worth remembering that governments on the right are not entirely heartless, and may even be well-intentioned. Even if it’s only because their supporters find street beggars and shanty towns indecorous, they feel constrained to spend on alleviating extreme poverty. (Lest anyone think that last suggestion is too cynical, we should contemplate our likely political reaction if the squalid conditions of Aboriginal settlements in the remote outback were more visible from the roads and railways used daily by our urban commuters.)

    Economists often argue for neoliberal policies, such as those which dilute workers’ rights, on the basis that while they will make some people worse off, they are worth pursuing because they will increase economic growth and therefore improve governments’ taxing power and capacity to make compensatory payments. Anyone with a little mathematical ability can work through the econometric equations and check the validity of this proposition.

    The main flaw in the argument is not mathematical. Rather it lies in the assumption that social security payments can compensate for some of the non-monetary costs of disruption associated with economic change. The tradeoff is rarely as stark as a choice between job and a welfare payment, but it is often in the form of compensation for a job with less pay, or with less security. It is easy, for example, for an economist in Canberra looking at a proposal which may wipe out regional economy to suggest generous re-location payments, but those calculations rarely take into account the hard-to-quantify costs of loss of a community’s social capital.

    Also, most people prefer some level of self-reliance to dependence on government benefits.

    By almost any consideration, “left” or “right”, an economy is healthier if it can provide well-paid employment for all, either in the form of jobs or self-employment in small business, without making too much call on social security benefits. There will always be enough call on the social security budget as a result of ageing, and to those with severe disabilities, without also asking it to pick up the costs of an under-performing economy.

    The general way in which governments can avoid this demand for re-distribution is to ensure the economy can support well-paid employment, through investment in human capital (education in particular), research, transport and telecommunications infrastructure, primary health care – in fact the whole set of public services that the market either cannot provide or cannot provide efficiently. Research into the determinants of economic growth show that even public investments which we may consider to be remote from the productive end of the economy, such as street lighting, have a positive effect on growth.

    But when there is an increasing demand for social security payments to compensate for poor economic performance, a nation’s public finances become caught in a destructive spiral, as demands for such payments crowd out other areas of government expenditure, particularly if a government has constrained itself with some arbitrary cap on public expenditure. As social security payments crowd out other areas of expenditure, particularly (but not only) education and infrastructure, a country’s long-term economic performance suffers, creating in turn more pressure on the social security system.  It’s a downward spiral to poverty.

    This downward spiral is far from hypothetical. It almost certainly accounts for much of Argentina’s economic decline over last century. And closer to home, the Howard Government used social security payments, such as family allowances, to compensate for our economy’s increasing inability to provide well-paid jobs. “Middle-class” welfare was, and still is, an unsustainable way to prop up material living standards.

    Hockey, Cormann and their advisors understand that social security payments and some other open-ended benefits are making a big call on the public budget, and that in material terms we are living beyond our means. Some short-term sacrifice is needed in order to put our economy and public finances back on track.

    The trouble is that they are going about rectifying this situation in completely the wrong way. Our escape from this spiral should be in the form of increased investment in public services, financed by higher taxes, rather than by cuts in expenditure, while sustaining social security provisions. In time, when those payments are no longer being called upon to compensate for our economic weaknesses, they can even be made more generous for those with enduring needs. Also, expenditure on universally-available services, particularly health and education, besides having high value in themselves, help support the living standards of those who are not so well-off, without being dependent on social security. There is a world of difference between the dignity of participating in shared services and the humiliation of applying for social security.

    Higher income taxes, and withdrawal of excessively generous superannuation benefits for the well-off, would carry a message of shared sacrifice.  One doesn’t need a PhD in economics or ethics to understand that it’s almost impossible to ask people to make sacrifices when the burden isn’t shared.

    The latest example of the Government’s stupidity in this regard has been in its support for a cut in soldiers’ pay. Any soldier, private through to colonel, knows the military tradition of shared sacrifice. The military is not a democracy – far from it – but when, in difficult conditions, sacrifice is needed, it is across the board, or is even disproportionately applied to senior NCOs and officers. Had the Government cracked down on corporate tax avoidance, made wealthy superannuants pay taxes, withdrawn privileges for family trusts, and scrapped privileges for financial commission agents, it may not be in such political strife over issues to do with military and public service pay.

    In this series of articles I have touched on some of many areas of public policy. Many of these will be covered in a book which Miriam Lyons (former Executive Director of the Centre for Policy Development) and I are writing, and which should be published around May next year.

    In the final piece I will look at some of the reasons why unjust and economically destructive public policy remains largely unchallenged. The roots of this problem lie much deeper than media bias or political apathy.

     

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 7: Inequality – a shameful waste

    “Australia’s program to increase world growth seems to be to cut social security benefits from the poor.”

    When Geraldine Doogue asked Malcolm Fraser to comment on Abbott’s G20 agenda, that was his summary of the present Government’s economic policy

    Unfortunately, ministers such as Hockey and Cormann may not understand the sarcasm in his comment, because there is an economic philosophy supporting their very line: redistribute income towards the rich while disciplining the poor with hardship.

    Of course that doesn’t get stated so bluntly; it’s padded in spin about a “budget emergency”, “Labor’s waste” and so on. But it shows through in the Government’s budget proposals, not only those directed at the poorest, but also in its rejection of Labor’s measures aimed at reigning in some of the undeserved privileges enjoyed by the already well-off. These reforms included changes in the tax treatment of employer-provided cars, ending the racket of hidden commissions on financial products, and modest taxes on multi-million dollar pension accounts.

    Giving breaks to the already privileged is based in part on a belief that if people are rich they must be clever, and therefore their entrepreneurial virtues should be further rewarded. It’s a belief that conveniently overlooks the role of inheritance, luck, political deals and outright corruption in contributing to many people’s financial prosperity.

    It’s also based on the slightly more respectable economic theory that those with higher incomes tend to save and invest, therefore creating jobs for others.

    As Thomas Piketty points out, the saving and investment theory holds only up to a point. Once a financially wealthy class develops it goes on accumulating more financial wealth, and there is no certainty that its financial wealth will be invested wisely. Even if that financial wealth came about in the first instance through entrepreneurship, there is no guarantee that those entrepreneurial energies will be sustained into subsequent generations, who are likely to lead an indolent lifestyle, spending their fortunes on luxuries rather than on productive investment. And that lavish consumption does little for the local economy – it is more likely to make its way to car manufacturers in Germany, watchmakers in Switzerland and vignerons in France than the more modest consumption patterns of those of more modest means.

    Also, perpetuation of privilege is often based on the well-off having first call on what economists call “positional goods”, where supply is limited – the best surgeons, the best teachers and so on. There is a strong economic case, for example, for allocating the best teachers to where they can do the most good, in endeavours such as helping kids who haven’t had the early childhood breaks enjoyed by rich kids.

    The other end of that philosophy – making it hard for the poor – is so economically dumb that it is hardly worth taking the effort to refute it. When there is no demand for labour herding people into the labour force through punitive social security conditions just doesn’t work. The business cycle is an inescapable economic reality, and in an interconnected world one’s chances of finding a job are as likely to depend on decisions of the US monetary authorities or the sentiment of Chinese investors as on local business conditions or one’s own skills and motivation.

    For those who, through a tough upbringing or educational disadvantage, lack skills, there just aren’t jobs available. Minimum wages would have to be brought down to absurdly low levels to make it worthwhile for business to employ unskilled labour, and if they did, there would be a huge waste of resources, because low wages provide no incentive for employers to use labour productively. The waste would be in that most valuable of all resources, people’s capabilities.

    Good public policy is about investing in people’s capabilities which, through circumstances beyond people’s control, have lain dormant and undeveloped, or have been devalued by life’s experiences. Far better than denying unemployment benefits to out-of-work young people would be programs to support them in gaining new skills, and, of course, programs devoting resources to children at risk – children who are otherwise going to spend their adult lives in and out or poorly paid work, in and out of the criminal justice system, and without any stake in society.

    Instead we have a suite of policies designed to sap the self-confidence and dignity from those who become unemployed, as if subjecting people to the humiliation of job rejections and having to beg from friends and charities has no negative consequences. There are consequences, however, not just for the individual but also for the community as a whole.

    Another waste resulting from punitive conditions on the unemployed is that bad management is rewarded and perpetuated. Besides collective action through unions (which is becoming more difficult), one of the few ways people can knock some sense into bad employers is having the capacity to walk out of a lousy job. A workforce of people held to employment only because the alternative is unbearable is not a productive workforce. Sullen compliance with directions, like an ongoing work-to-rule campaign, is a poor substitute for enthusiasm.

    Those are some of the reasons why high levels of inequality hobble a country’s economic performance: they inevitably involve a waste of resources. When Tim Costello spoke of the need for the G20 to bring up the standards of the poorest through “inclusive growth” he reminded us that good social morality and good economics have a great deal of common ground. That common ground seems to be unknown territory to Abbott and his ministers, hell-bent on replicating George Bush’s so-called “supply side” economics, an experiment that failed in the USA and would be even more likely to fail here because it is so alien to our tradition of the “fair go”.

    This article has focussed on the waste of unchecked inequality and the pointlessness of economic growth that benefits only those who are already well-off. The next will outline how policies which promote inequality (intentionally or otherwise), not only waste resources. They also sap governments of the capacity to prevent widening inequality from dragging down the whole economy.

     

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 5: When finance goes its own way

    One of the world’s most useful social institutions is money, but it’s hard to think of it in its social context.

    To understand the social value of money, think of a world without money, or a country where, through recklessness the currency has been debased, as happened in the hyperinflation in the Weimar Republic in the 1920s.

    Barter served us well when few articles were traded – grinding stones, pituri and ochre in the Australian outback – but not in Germany in the 1920s and certainly not now. Complex trades require some agreed currency, not necessarily having any utility in itself, but with an agreed value in exchange. It’s that need for agreement, and for trust in those who control the currency, be it obsidian, rare shells, gold, or US Treasury Notes, that gives money that social context.

    Besides facilitating exchange, money also allows those with a temporary surplus to lend to those with temporary deficits – the wealthy individual funding someone else’s startup business, the older generation lending to the younger generation to buy houses. Such deals involve a huge range of instruments – loans, mortgages, equity and so on – but what they have in common is the need for some level of trust. Trust that the debtor intends to repay, trust that the terms of the deal are protected by some external authority, trust by the creditor that the debt will not be whittled away by inflation.

    Apart from times when we are caught short of cash – when the taxi fare is blown on the last race at Randwick – individuals don’t go around lending and borrowing. We do so through financial intermediaries, such as banks and stockbrokers. When we make deposits in these institutions we must be able to trust that they will act responsibly (in line with normal risk/return tradeoffs). That is, they will assess the quality of the way they invest that money on the depositor’s behalf and act as responsible trustees.

    That’s the way money serves the economy – by facilitating trade and investment. Thanks to what is known as “fractional reserve banking”, money isn’t some fixed entity: if there is trust and confidence money expands. When I borrow to buy a house or to set up a business I use that money to pay a builder or to hire workers, who, in turn use some of that money to lend to others through their bank deposits.

    These arrangements serve us well, until we lose sight of this practical, mundane function of money. They start to fall apart when we start to think that money itself is something real, as wealth, rather than as a means of denoting wealth.

    It’s hard to put a date on this confusion of money with wealth. The Biblical warning about “love of money” suggests it goes back a long way. On the other hand, older Australians can remember when bankers were respectably dull people who drove Holdens, wore Fletcher Jones suits, and ate roast lamb with three veg on Sundays.

    Something was changing when we started to hear life insurance salesmen (they were men) and bankers re-brand themselves as financial planners, and when they later re-branded themselves as “wealth managers”, when the Holden was replaced by a BMW and the Fletcher Jones suit by a Hugo Boss.

    The situation worsened as traders bought and sold financial instruments, sometimes not even knowing what acronyms such as “CDOs” stood for, let alone knowing about any connection these instruments may have had to any physical reality. Hence the GFC.

    The GFC is most easily understood as a loss of trust, as a loss of the social capital that allows borrowers and lenders to deal with one another.

    It meant that money literally disappeared. That doesn’t mean people’s or businesses’  bank accounts suddenly shrank, but it meant that many debts were never repaid, that some investments went belly-up, that investments in pension funds went backwards, and that people and businesses became reluctant to lend and invest. Governments tried to stimulate their economies with low interest rates and “quantitative easing” (i.e. printing money), but as fast as they injected money into the economy people took it out again, often re-investing in the safety of government bonds – the equivalent of putting banknotes under the bed. They no longer trusted the financial system, and trust, once lost, is very hard to restore.

    That has been the main consequence of the GFC – a crisis that could have been avoided had governments not been so gung-ho about deregulating the financial sector in the 1980s.  As is so often the case, rather than replacing obsolete regulations with more appropriate ones, they went down the path of deregulation.

    The other cost to the economy has been manifest since well before the GFC, and that has been the distortion of incentives in the economy. The message in the financial boom was that doing anything useful in the real economy was a mug’s game: playing with money was where the big returns were to be found. The finance sector took in some of the world’s most mathematically talented graduates, who could have been contributing to the real economy in engineering or science.

    In so doing it worsened economic inequality, damaging the already tenuous links between contribution and reward. Inequality, its causes and consequences, is the subject of the next two contributions.

     

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable?  Part 4: Moral conflicts

    Luxembourg (more properly the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg) is one of Europe’s smallest sovereign nations, both in population (about the same as Tasmania’s) and area (about one thirtieth of Tasmania’s).  Many Australians might have driven right through it, not realizing that in a half hour or so they had crossed a whole nation.

    If corporate accounts are to be believed, however, it is a major centre of economic activity. Ikea, Fedex and Amazon – all firms with global distribution functions – realize a large proportion of their profits in Luxembourg, even though it is landlocked.

    But if you linger in Luxembourg you won’t find any Amazon depot, and not even an Ikea retail outlet. Nor will you find an Australian bar for employees of AMP, the Macquarie Group, Lend Lease and the Goodman Group, companies which also report a significant presence in that country.

    Luxembourg is in the Australian news because those firms and many others, using various techniques of transfer pricing, declare part of their profits there, taking advantage of its low corporate tax rate.  In other words, they are engaged in tax minimisation, at the expense of our own public revenue.

    Whether such schemes are legal is a question for the courts. But by any reasonable criteria we are entitled to feel that there is something morally wrong about such corporate behaviour.

    The common corporate rationalization for such behaviour is that everyone else does it. It’s an excuse we probably tried as children, and learned that it didn’t have much traction. But before we jump in and condemn the corporations, let’s look at that rationalization in two situations we may encounter when we’re in a stadium watching a football game or the races.

    The first situation is where we may be tempted to shove our trash under the seat, observing that many others do likewise.

    The second is when we stand up during an exciting part of the event, presenting the person behind us with the choice of looking at our backside or standing up herself. Our rationalization is that the person in front of us stood up.

    Both decisions – discarding trash under the seat and standing up – incur costs on others. But in the case of the trash the personal cost of finding a bin is trivial. In the case of standing up, the personal cost of staying seated is significant. (Those who have studied game theory will recognize the latter as a “prisoners’ dilemma” situation.)

    To generalise the issue, there are many situations where we do the wrong thing because we are penalised for doing the right thing. These are morally difficult situations where reasonable people feel they have no choice but to act unreasonably.

    Those situations are often faced by corporations in competitive markets. The firm that doesn’t minimize tax, that doesn’t misrepresent the quality of its products, that doesn’t ruthlessly exploit its workforce, that doesn’t pollute the environment when its competitors are doing all these things may be sending itself out of business, or paving the way for an even more ruthless raider to take it over.

    In competitive situations it is not feasible or fair to leave sole responsibility for good behaviour with the corporations. The moral responsibility is a collective one, involving a recognized higher authority. Returning to the stadium situation, if there were an enforceable rule requiring us to stay seated in the stadium, we would all be better-off.

    In relation to corporate behaviour that authority is the government, which is where the prime responsibility lies. We elect governments to protect the weak against the strong, to protect the public interest against the sectional interest.

    Politicians, in defence of weak regulatory effort, may claim that in an interconnected world individual nation states are powerless, but there are vehicles of multilateral cooperative action, such as the World Trade Organization attending to the rules of trade. The hurdles to cooperation on taxation, labour standards, product safety and environmental protection (particularly the urgent issue of global warming) are not insurmountable.

    That doesn’t get corporations off the hook: they have political influence.  In that regard it was disappointing to hear a spokesperson for the Business Council of Australia suggesting that governments should not pursue international tax reform too vigorously.

    While the Australian travelling through Luxembourg may not see much sign of corporate activity, he will see excellent publicly-funded public transport, roads, schools and a health care system.

    The traveller, having been driving on French or German roads, may notice that Luxembourg has low gasoline taxes. Will he yield to the temptation and top up his rented car, or will he wait till he is over border and chip in to pay for the roads he has been using?

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 3: Why tax avoidance is bad for business

    One article of faith in the corporate sector is that low taxes are good for the economy – not only low corporate taxes but also low taxes in general.

    Echoing this sentiment, Treasurer Hockey and other spokespeople for the Government repeatedly promise to cut taxes. Even suggestions that the GST should be increased are set in the context of a tradeoff against income taxes, rather than any net increase in tax.

    For a start, let’s get one myth out of the way. Although repeated surveys reveal that most people believe Australia is a high-tax country, the reality is that among high-income OECD countries, Australia’s taxes (as a percentage of GDP) are very low: only the USA has lower taxes, and they have achieved this by running much higher budget deficits than in Australia.

    Another myth is that high taxes are bad for the economy.  Again, looking at high-income OECD countries, there is no evidence to support this proposition. There is no relationship between the level of taxes and economic growth or competitiveness. What does seem to be the important factor is not the size of government (as measured by taxes or spending), but the purposes to which public revenue those taxes are put. A competent “big government” contributes to economic performance in ways that an incompetent or corrupt “small government” does not.

    Also, research on competitiveness suggests that some countries try to entice investment with the offer of low taxes to compensate for deficiencies in other conditions, such as poor infrastructure, corruption, or an inadequately educated workforce.

    Businesses need publicly-funded services. They obviously need the networks of transport and telecommunications infrastructure. They need an educated and healthy workforce. They need a publicly-funded but independent legal system.

    Less obvious, but no less valid, is the way business benefits from safety nets, such as social security payments. If people are to take risks, such as investing in start-ups, or developing specialist skills, they need a safety net to fall back on when these investments fail.

    The economist Joseph Stiglitz points out that well-crafted taxes can actually improve a country’s economic performance. Tax regimes which give a leg-up to new ventures, which encourage re-training, or which shape depreciation provisions to encourage the uptake of new technologies, can all help improve a country’s economic adaptability. A carbon tax is an example not only of a payment for harm done to others (“negative externalities” in the language of economists), but also of an incentive for industries to adjust and modernise their production methods.

    Of course, established businesses have a voice in various industry associations, such as the Business Council of Australia and the Australian Chamber of Commerce and Industry, as well as numerous industry-specific lobbies. These organizations, quite understandably, represent the interests of established firms (just as trade unions tend to represent the interests of already-employed workers). These are the firms that have established their place in the market, have benefited from past investments in public goods, and which don’t necessarily welcome the entry of new firms into their industries. They certainly don’t welcome disruptions such as carbon pricing – disruptions which may force them to lift their game or to go out of business as new and more nimble competitors grab opportunities.

    Also when these lobby groups speak on tax matters, particularly personal income taxes, it is questionable whether they have in mind the interests of corporations (inanimate constructs with no interests other than those of their stakeholders) or the interests of generously-paid corporate managers.

    In recent times we have heard pathetic rationalisations as to why Australian companies should be able to use Luxembourg as a tax haven, and why any right-minded business executive should feel affronted by the suggestion his or firm should pay their share of taxes. Perhaps the “small government” line is just a conditioned, rather than a considered, response.

    In the next article we’ll look at the ethics of tax avoidance – it’s not as straightforward as it looks at first sight.

  • Ian  McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 2: Karl Marx’s and Henry Ford’s shared understanding

    Karl Marx was the intellectual father of communism, grandson of a rabbi. Henry Ford was the quintessential American industrialist, anti-union and anti-Semitic.

    They shared one insight, however. They both knew that capitalism could destroy its own markets. A plentiful supply of workers would keep wages low, to the benefit of industrialists. But those same industrialists needed markets for their products, and an underpaid workforce wasn’t going to be able to afford the products coming off the industrialists’ assembly lines.

    Marx saw this as the root of capitalism’s undoing. Ford saw it as a challenge.

    In 1914 Ford doubled workers’ pay, an act based not on generosity, but on well-calculated self-interest. He wanted a loyal and productive workforce, with a stake in the success of the enterprise.

    His move was a rejection of the nineteenth century idea that capitalism needed a pool of workers with nothing to offer but their brawn, facing starvation if they did not accept the industrialists’ meagre offerings. He realised that his assembly-line model of mass-production required a mass market of well-paid workers, and that it was in his interests if other industrialists did likewise. Unemployed workers, or workers working for miserable wages, weren’t going to be able buy T-Model Fords.

    That notion of production and consumption, where wages come back to the industrialists as demand for their products, became a central tenet of economics. A well-paid workforce is a basis for capitalism’s success.

    That understanding was built into the Australian understanding of capitalism from early on, codified in the 1907 Harvester Judgement, establishing the idea of a basic wage. Tariff protection was the mechanism which would allow for a recognition of the shared interests of industrialists and workers. The journalist Paul Kelly was to call it the “Australian Settlement”.

    So strong was the idea of the Australian economy depending on a well-paid workforce that in the 1950s and 1960s the Country Party, which one would expect to favour free trade, supported tariff protection. Jack McEwen, the Party’s leader, realised that farmers’ most reliable markets were prosperous Australian households.

    Tariff protection is well past its use-by date, but the idea that a fully-employed and well-paid workforce underpins a successful economy is no less valid now than it was in 1907 or 1914. Also, as Ford understood, when labour is cheap workers are not properly valued. A reasonably high minimum wage helps see that workers are employed productively. (Australians visiting the United States, where in some states minimum wages are as low as $5 an hour, are often surprised to find people in low-productivity jobs, pumping gasoline or walking the streets wearing sandwich-boards advertising local businesses.) Former US Labor Secretary Robert Reich, in his work Outrage, clearly attributes America’s recession and sluggish recovery, in large part, to its low-wage economic structure.

    In 2008, when the Global Financial Crisis hit Australia, the Rudd Government, acting on sound advice from Treasury, understood the urgency of maintaining domestic demand and stopping unemployment from rising too high. The cost was a rise in government debt to a modest level – modest both by Australian historical and by contemporary world standards. Those who misrepresent this cautious intervention as causing a “budget emergency” never mention the cost of inaction which would have seen much higher unemployment – people doing nothing instead of building school classrooms and halls, insulating houses and constructing highways, and maintaining their connection to the workforce. Nor do they mention the IMF’s praise for Australia’s policy response, and its more recent criticism of those countries that pursued austerity in response to the GFC. It’s a callous attitude, oblivious not only to the economic cost of unemployment, but also to the misery suffered by people excluded from participating in productive activity.

    Perhaps those same people who criticize the Rudd Government’s GFC response are locked into a nineteenth-century model of capitalism. Rather than striving for an economic structure  that can support a well-paid workforce, they envisage a future based on low wages. The present Government has taken a lead by reducing real wages for those on the public payroll, and its proposals on pensions, Newstart allowances and foreign workers are all designed to keep downward pressure on wages.

    It’s an agenda that meets with the approval of business lobbies, who, like Marx, still see the world through the lens of class conflict. They don’t seem to realize that they are undermining the capitalist system they claim to support.

    And they still see “low taxes” and “small government” as the path to private sector prosperity – the subject of the next contribution.

     

  • Ian McAuley. Is capitalism redeemable? Part 1: From markets to market societies

    Republican victories in the US midterm elections have given conservatives a psychological boost, just days before the twenty-fifth anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. (For the record, the 1989 collapse of European communism was a victory for those Germans, Hungarians and others who risked all to stand up against tyranny, but it has been appropriated by American conservatives as a triumph of unfettered markets over government.)

    Those celebrating the midterm results may be overlooking other recent developments, such as the resounding defeat of the Swedish centre-right coalition which had tried to privatize health and education. Even the midterms were less than a decisive endorsement of the Republicans’ free market agenda: several states voted to lift minimum wages, and by a quirk in the US electoral system there was a concentration of central and southern states going to the polls. These are the poorer states where the agenda is far more complex than traditional “left/right” conflicts.

    Perhaps people have forgotten the Global Financial Crisis, or as it has come to be known, the Great Recession, when cowboy behaviour in financial markets would have crippled the world economy had governments not bailed them out.

    And in celebrating the fall of the Berlin Wall it is easy to overlook communism’s contribution to capitalism. In its role as a rival ideological suitor it kept capitalism on its best behaviour. As the Marxist historian Eric Hobsbawm wrote in his reflection on the twentieth century:

    It is one of the ironies of this strange century that the most lasting results of the October revolution, whose object was the global overthrow of capitalism, was to save its antagonist, both in war and peace – that is to say, by providing it with the incentive, fear, to reform itself after the Second World War, and, by establishing the popularity of economic planning, furnishing it with some of the procedures for its reform.

    With their supposed rival discredited, capitalism’s champions have been pushing boundaries aside. In some countries – the English-speaking countries in particular – it is becoming beyond question that the best government is small government, and that markets should be left to their own devices.

    The Bank of England Governor Mark Carney at a conference on “inclusive capitalism” earlier this year warned about such thoughtless exuberance:

    All ideologies are prone to extremes. Capitalism loses its sense of moderation when the belief in the power of the market enters the realm of faith.

    Seventy years ago, when economists and politicians were considering the postwar order, the Hungarian economist and philosopher Karl Polanyi warned about a coming “great transformation”, when the market would be unleashed from its previous constraints.

    Since markets had first emerged, Polanyi pointed out, they had been subject to society’s norms and moral codes, and generally limited in space (the market place) and time (market days and fairs). They had been constrained by notions of a “fair price” and rules against usury. He foresaw the postwar order, however, as one in which people would live in a “market society”, and the organising principles of society would be the those of the market.

    As it happened, the immediate postwar order saw a tamed version of capitalism. The Great Depression was fresh in people’s memories, and communism still had followers. (Menzies won the 1961 election on Communist Party preferences directed away from Labor.)

    But from the early 1980s, with the election of Thatcher and Reagan in in the USA, capitalism became more triumphant and more aggressive, and by now Polanyi’s prophecy has largely come to pass. We have let the market take over more of our physical and metaphorical space. With commercial television and the internet even our homes are subsumed into market space. Our roads are turned over to private companies to operate as tollways, and to make sure we can’t escape the market, public space is becoming cluttered with billboards. And, most seriously, we are increasingly allowing the profit motive to intrude into health and education – areas we once considered to be subject to the rules of social obligation.

    The Harvard philosopher Michael Sandel in his book What Money Can’t Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets points out some of the extensions of the idea that everything is on the market: some Californian prisoners can buy a cell upgrade; $500 000 will buy you a visa to migrate to the United States; you can sell space on your exposed skin for tattoos carrying advertising; a lobbyist can hire you to stand in a queue to meet a congressman. He goes on with a list that makes prostitution look positively respectable by comparison.

    Possibly because this transformation has been gradual, we have tended to underestimate its extent. And possibly because some of the earlier restrictions on markets were dysfunctional (such as the closure of all shops, even garages, for 45 hours from noon on Saturday), we have assumed that the alternative to poor regulation is no regulation.

    We have let the profit-driven private health insurance industry into health financing, using clumsy, expensive and ineffective mechanisms, such as “community rating” to try to restore some equity. We have let for-profit corporations enter what we now call the “market” for education. We talk about the “labour market”, as if people are tradeable commodities like iron ore or soy beans.

    The pushback, where it has occurred, has been insipid. Politicians, even those supposedly on the “left”, talk about policies “balancing” economic and social objectives, and businesspeople talk about “triple bottom line” reporting, as if there is some tradeoff between economic and social outcomes.

    But, Polanyi would ask, what is the point of economic activity if it does not contribute to social outcomes? We laugh at the apocryphal story of the officer who said during the Vietnam War “we had to destroy the village in order to save it”, but we let pass the equally silly idea that we must somehow compromise social objectives to achieve economic objectives.

    The market must be restored to its place, not above or beside society, but contained within society, subject to its norms.  The mixed economy, where markets, civil society and governments all do what they do best, has served us well in the past, but the fashionable “small government” ideology is leading us down a destructive path.

    Markets are capable of bringing great prosperity, but when left to their own devices can be destructive. Like an obese patient eating himself to death, capitalism needs to be protected from its own excesses.

    In following articles I will touch on capitalism’s self-destructive forces, and on what we must do, through the governments we elect, to protect it from those forces, because there is a danger that in response to its failures we will reject it altogether. The alternatives to properly-regulated capitalism are rather unattractive.

     

  • Ian McAuley. A Year Of Tony Abbott.

     The Abbott Government was elected one year and one day ago. Ian McAuley celebrates the countless successes that have slipped under the radar.

     A year into the Abbott Government’s term we can reflect on its impressive economic achievements.

    The highlight is the repeal of the carbon tax. It’s easy to stand up against tree huggers and left‑wing romantics who prat on about global warming, but it takes political courage to stand up against scientists and economists.

    A close second has to be repeal of the mining tax. Some people refuse to understand how Australia works. For 200 years, ever since Macarthur opened up the wool trade, we have been selling raw materials for cleverer people to make into useful products.

    For a few years after 1945 we thought we could be clever ourselves and make things like cars and airplanes – even Menzies got carried away by that delusion – but thankfully that era of unreality has passed.

    The world needs a quarry and we’re in the business of providing it.  Australia can be the Saudi Arabia of the twenty‑first century.

    The Government hasn’t scrapped the Renewable Energy Target, but, with a bit of help from Dick Warburton, it has created enough uncertainty to kill this crazy scheme. Joe Hockey is right when he says windmills are ugly – they distract one’s attention from advertising billboards on the roadside.

    More seriously, all this renewable energy eats into power companies’ profits.

    Some say that Australia shouldn’t break a long‑standing bipartisan commitment on the RET because to do so increases our sovereign risk, but don’t they realize that there has never been a sovereign risk as bad as six years of a Labor Government?

    Six years when foreign investment fell to the lowest on record! (The ABS statistics on investment erroneously show high foreign mining investment mining during Labor’s term – proof if ever you needed it that you can’t trust public servants).

    Australia is open for business, but not all businesses – certainly not businesses that undermine our world‑standard coal industry.

    The cuts to science are well‑directed: $75 million from the Australian Research Council; $120 million from the Defence Science and Technology Organisation; $8 million from the Institute of Marine Science; and $111 million from the CSIRO.

    We don’t need all these boffins. The CSIRO served us well in the past when it focussed on crop yields and sheep fertility; it could serve us well in the future if it concentrates on mining research.

    One of the Government’s least‑understood achievements is reversal of most of the Future of Financial Advice changes – Labor’s meddle in the financial market, which made it hard for financial advisers to reward themselves with ongoing commissions.

    These are proper, respectable, upstanding people, not like the unionised riff‑raff who work in car plants or in companies like SPC‑Ardmona. Their jobs need support. In fact, with re‑training, unemployed scientists could find useful work in the finance sector, or in the tax avoidance salary packaging industry.

    Then there is repeal of small business tax concessions. These concessions – instant asset write‑offs and offsetting future losses against past losses – were highly favourable to new companies and to companies expanding into new ventures.

    The trouble with encouraging such businesses is that they put competitive pressure on existing businesses to improve their performance or lower their prices. That’s just not fair.

    In any case the concessions were introduced by the Labor Government – a clear indication that they were not good for the country.

    An achievement which has passed almost unnoticed is the abolition of the Australian National Preventative Health Agency. ANPHA was one of those wacky Labor nanny‑state bureaucracies, all about getting people to lead healthier lifestyles in order to take pressure off health care resources.

    Had it survived it could have moved through the health sector like a wrecking ball, putting specialists out of work, and hitting the profits of pharmaceutical firms and private health insurers.

    Worse, their first campaign was on obesity – an obvious threat not only to the bariatric surgery industry (literally one of our promising growth industries) – but also to our successful fast food chains.

    Don’t they realize that corpulence is the new chic? Public money should not be in the hands of scrawny vegetarian do‑gooders.

    Getting rid of that fibre‑to‑the‑premises National Broadband Network idea was timely – nipped in the bud before it got its own momentum. It could have spelled the end of telegram boys and could have put the telex network out of business.

    Unfortunately some of the Coalition’s most far‑reaching reforms are having a hard time in the Senate.

    One of these, the proposed changes to higher education, are truly far‑reaching. Let’s face it, there are just too many over‑educated people in this country.

    We need a few mining engineers and technicians, but we can get them on 457 visas. Our economy needs more taxi drivers, nannies, cleaners and others to attend to the worthy classes.

    The Coalition is having a hard time putting to rest Labor’s highfalutin idea that Australia could become an internationally competitive industrialised country. It’s hard to put down a stupid idea like that.

    People just don’t understand the Coalition’s education and labour market policies. We need people who can read and write if they’re going to operate a mining truck or work in the market gardens of our northern food bowl. But take education too far and people become sceptical and start thinking critically.

    It’s dangerous in a democracy if people think too much for themselves. Our state education system should take people to the level that they can read Sydney’s Telegraph or Adelaide’s Advertiser, but no further.

    Our private schools can teach higher‑order skills, such as negotiating with a BMW dealer or getting a coal loader proposal past legislative roadblocks.

    Another set of blocked initiatives are the cuts to the Newstart allowance, the extension of retirement age to 70, and the reductions in the Age Pension.

    These are all designed to get people into the workforce. Some armchair economists say there aren’t enough jobs, particularly not enough unskilled jobs, but they don’t see the vision in the policy.

    It’s intended to put supply‑side pressure on the minimum wage. If Australia can get rid of the minimum wage we can have a labour market more like America’s – a tremendously successful economy to emulate.

    If only people would stop whingeing about unfairness in the Government’s Budget measures. There’s nothing wrong with giving a leg‑up to those who have done well.

    The rich wouldn’t be rich unless they were competent and deserving. The poor blow their money on things like rent, food and fuel: it’s the rich who invest and create jobs for the less deserving.

    That was the essence of President Reagan’s successful “supply side” economics, a policy which has generally been followed by both Democratic and Republican administrations. OK – there has been a little collateral damage, like the GFC, but give America’s business‑friendly policies time and it will all come good.

    About the only economic idea the Coalition has wrong is the plan to re‑introduce fuel tax indexation, sensibly dropped by the Howard Government in 2001.

    There’s plenty of oil in the world, and one of life’s few remaining pleasures in a country where the nanny state has encroached on almost all our freedoms is to hoon around in a hotted‑up V8 ute, topping it off with a drag race and a burnout.

    That’s the freedom our diggers fought for when they thrashed the Turks at Gallipoli. Thankfully the Greens have the good sense to block this proposal.

    And lest readers believe this contribution to be partisan, I should give credit to the Rudd‑Gillard Government for their demonstrated commitment to cutting taxes.

    Out of the most prosperous 18 OECD countries, only the USA has lower taxes than Australia. That’s some achievement.

    While high‑tax countries like Germany have wasted money on schools, universities, public transport, fast trains, and autobahns, we have wisely made sure the government hasn’t crowded out productive private sector investments, such as casinos and dinosaur parks.

    Perhaps the Coalition’s greatest economic achievement, however, has been to convince the electorate of its economic competence.

    The Essential opinion poll shows they are well ahead of Labor on the question “which party – Labor or Liberal – do you think is best when it comes to handling the economy well?”

    Labor scores only 23 per cent, while the Liberal Party scores 37 per cent.

    Not all credit for this score goes to the Government, however, for Labor still seems to be reluctant to engage with the community on economic policy.

    This article by Ian McAuley was published in New Matilda on Sunday, 7 September 2014.