An expert weighed in on Reserve Bank reform

I was exchanging notes last week with someone who is doing research on New Zealand economic policy, and the development of economic institutions, in the 1980s and 1990s.  In the course of that conversation he sent me a copy of interesting short paper –  presumably obtained from the national archives –  from the period when the thinking and debates that led to the Reserve Bank of New Zealand Act 1989 were underway.

Reform of the Reserve Bank had been in the wind for some time.  Loosely, the Reserve Bank tended to be keen on an independent central bank, and recognised that some accountability procedures would be part of the price of that.  On the other side of the street, the Treasury was keen on an accountable and efficient central bank.  Neither institution –  nor the key ministers at the time –  wanted the Minister of Finance to be determining day-to-day monetary policy. (Ministers determining policy adjustment had been the standard practice, by law, for decades – and it was the practice at the time in most western countries, the exceptions being Switzerland and West Germany and (more or less) the United States.)   Everyone involved wanted a much lower average inflation rate than New Zealand had had in the 1970s and 1980s.

The Treasury was heavily involved in work on reshaping the institutional form of much of what central government did.   Of particular relevance was the new state-owned enterprises (SOE) model, adopted for many/most government trading enterprises (NZ Post, for example, is still with us today).    The Reserve Bank, then as now, was a somewhat anomalous organisation and part of the – at times – acrimonious debate between the Reserve Bank and the Treasury over several years reflected the idiosyncratic nature of the institution, and differing views over what parallels or comparators were relevant.    For example, were banknotes or the retail government banking operations, or the sale of government bonds really just commercial activities really just commercial activities.  And might the (apparent) policy goals be achieved better in an organisation given more commercial incentives.

At one end of the spectrum was a proposal out of The Treasury in late 1986 to turn the Reserve Bank into an SOE (it was never quite a final Treasury proposal, but was written by a senior Treasury adviser and taken seriously as the highest levels of The Treasury.  For anyone interested, you can read more about it in Innovation and Independence, the 2006 history of the Bank (bearing in mind that that history was very much written from a Reserve Bank perspective, one of the authors not only having been an active protagonist in the late 1980s debates but at the time of writing serving as chair of the board of the Reserve Bank).

The proposals were stimulating, far-reaching (including allowing for the Reserve Bank to be declared bankrupt and statutory managers appointed) and –  in the views of probably all Reserve Bankers involved at the time (and in my view now) –  quite unrealistic, and failing to really grapple with the reasons for having a central bank at all.  I am one of those who believes that the economy and financial system could function adequately without a central bank –  although on balance I think a central bank can improve our ability to cope with severe shocks –  and in many respects the logic of the Treasury position might have been better developed into a proposal to explore whether we could do without a central bank altogether.  But they didn’t.  (Had the Bank been abolished, my position –  then and now –  is that New Zealand would fairly quickly have become a de facto part of the Australian dollar area, with monetary conditions influenced by the RBA with Australian perspectives in mind.  That is probably clearer now than it was then –  in 1986/87 only Westpac and ANZ of the larger banks were Australian owned.)

But the point of this post isn’t to rehearse all the old debates. I was overseas on secondment at the time, and only got involved in the debates (which lingered in various forms for several years, even after the Reserve Bank Act was passed) a bit later. But I was intrigued by this one particular paper I was sent last week.

The Reserve Bank has received the “Reserve Bank as SOE” proposal in November 1986.  At the time, the Reserve Bank Board was the decisionmaking body for the Bank itself (although not on monetary policy, which was in law set by the Minister).   The Board asked management to obtain independent expert analysis and advice on the Treasury ideas and for their March 1987 meeting the Board had in front of it a six page commentary from Professor Charles Goodhart.

Goodhart is one of the more significant figures in the last 50 years or so in thinking and writing about central banking.   At the time, he was Professor of Money and Banking at the London School of Economics and had previously served as Adviser to the Governor of the Bank of England.  He had relatively recently published an influential book The Evolution of Central Banks: A Natural Development? (and had been the star guest, and guest lecturer, at the Reserve Bank’s somewhat-extravagant 50th anniversary celebrations in 1984).  Goodhart was very smart and thoughtful, but well-disposed to a traditional (British) view of central banks.

A decade later, Goodhart served as one of the first members of the UK Monetary Policy Committee, after the newly-elected Labour government in 1997 gave the Bank of England operational independence in the conduct of monetary policy.  But in 1987, the Bank of England was, to a considerable extent, the executing agent for the policy choices of the Chancellor of the Exchequer –  the Chancellor being advised by both the Bank and the Treasury, and typically being closer to The Treasury (in the UK ministers have their offices in the department for which they are responsible, not something akin to the Beehive).  It is worth noting that by 1987 the UK had successfully lowered its inflation rate very substantially (the UK inflation record in the 1970s had been, if anything, worse than New Zealand’s).

It is perhaps also worth noting that when the Reserve Bank of New Zealand Bill was finally brought to Parliament in 1989, Goodhart played an important role in providing public support (including FEC testimony) for the chosen model.  Part of that involved providing an academic counterweight to the New Zealand academic (macro)economics community, most of which, at very least, sceptical of the legislation.

But that was 2.5 years later, long after the notes for the Reserve Bank Board had been written.  In those notes, Goodhart’s stance –  while useful to the Bank in countering Treasury – was very different to the legislation he later provided public endorsement to.

The first half of the paper (history and theory) is interesting, but not particularly controversial for these purposes. But the second half is about “policy conclusions”, drawing from an analysis that was generally in favour of (a) discretionary monetary policy, and (b) a central bank not influenced by profit-maximising considerations.

Here is his view on who should do what

goodhart 1

Get the Minister of Finance further away from the conduct of monetary policy and let the Reserve Bank itself decide what rate of inflation to target.  (This was more than year before “inflation targeting” itself became a thing, and was presumably just about setting a broad direction for policy –  in New Zealand at the time there was, for example, beginning to be talk about “low single figure inflation”).

I don’t suppose that idea went down overly well with his Treasury readers (including the Secretary to the Treasury who was then a member of the Board).

One of the later mythologies that developed around the Reserve Bank Act (over the years we spent a lot of time rebutting it) was that the Governor’s salary was tied to the inflation target.  It never was.    But until reading this paper I hadn’t realised where the possibility of making such a link had come from.  Here is Goodhart, talking about accountability.

goodhart 2.png

Wow.  At this stage, there was still no sense of making the Governor the single decision maker, but a leading academic writer on central banking was seriously proposing not just that the Reserve Bank should be able to set a target rate of inflation for itself, but that a range of key executives should be partly paid in the form of options that would pay off if the target was met.    He doesn’t seem to notice, for example, the distinction between a private business (operating in a market it can’t control) and a public agency able to do whatever it takes, at whatever short-run cost, to achieve a target rate of inflation.

At the time, there was still a presumption that decisionmaking at a reformed Reserve Bank would be made (ultimately) by the Board –  as, of course, responsibility in SOEs and many other Crown agencies rested with the respective boards.  The Board was largely non-executive (Governor, Deputy Governor, Secretary to the Treasury plus other members appointed by the Minister) and Goodhart moves on to discuss the issue of whether non-executives could be involved in monetary policy decisions.

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Reasonable points in some respects (how to manage potential and actual conflicts has been an issue even in the recent appointment of members of the new MPC), although note that in Australia the Reserve Bank of Australia Board –  which sets monetary policy –  is very similar in composition to the way the RBNZ Board was in the 1980s.

Perhaps more interesting is about the qualms Goodhart has –  in early 1987 –  about the case for an independent Reserve Bank, in particular around the case for a more active coordination (at least in some circumstances) of fiscal and monetary policy.

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Goodhart’s paper ends with this paragraph.

good8If you were generous, you could interpret the final Reserve Bank of New Zealand model as looking something like that paragraph.  Unlike the Bundesbank, the Reserve Bank of New Zealand never had the power to set any specific policy objective for itself, and there was explicit override provisions built into the legislation allowing the government to (temporarily) override the agreed (Governor and Minister) policy targets.  But this paragraph sounds a lot more like the Bank of England in the 1980s, than the case made in public for the Reserve Bank of New Zealand Act 1989 (much of which was about having as few residual powers for  Minister as was consistent with getting the legislation through the Labour Party caucus).

In fairness, the Bank asked for these comments from Professor Goodhart at relatively short notice. On the other hand, he was at the time a leading academic writer in the area, and a former senior practitioner.  And so I am still struck by the conflicting strands of thought that one finds in this short paper –  on the one hand, the idea of options to reward senior central bank staff for meeting a target they might specify themselves, and on the other a real concern about the potential disadvantages in separating fiscal policy too far from monetary policy, and thus some ambivalence about too much operational autonomy for the Reserve Bank at all.

Having said all that, in a way what struck me most about the Goodhart paper is what wasn’t there.    The UK’s disinflation experience in the 1980s had a wrenching one.  Economic historians will still debate the contribution of monetary policy to the peak of three million people unemployed, but no one seriously doubts it played a part.  At the time, there hadn’t been many economywide costs to the degree of disinflation New Zealand had so far managed –  the credit boom and stock market excesses were still in full swing-  and for a time that was to induce a degree of complacency among New Zealand advisers (I recall a meeting I was in perhaps a year or so later at which the then Deputy Secretary to the Treasury was telling the IMF about how modest he expected the costs of disinflation to be –  the head of the IMF mission politely begged to differ).

But in this paper there is no mention of output costs at all  – either those associated with getting inflation down to a much lower average level, or the short-term deviations of output from potential that would come to play such a large role in central bank thinking in subsequent decades.  Just none.  It is quite extraordinary  (and thus when Goodhart talked about tying staff pay to the inflation target, no sense of the political impossibility of giving central bankers financial bonuses for actions that would, at least temporarily, raise unemployment –  even if one could accurately and formally specify a binding target for the life of the options he proposed).

What of Reserve Bank staff ourselves?  From mid-1987 I was Manager of the Monetary Policy (analysis and advice) section at the Bank, and thus quite heavily involved in clarifying what it was we were going to target, how and when.   If memory serves, I think many of us were probably too complacent, perhaps a little blind, around the short-run issues, and tended to work on an over-simplified mental model in which once inflation was lowered to target all we really had to worry about were things like oil price shocks or GST adjustments (we didn’t explicitly – and probably not implicitly –  think much about significant positive or negative output gaps developing).

On the costs of disinflation itself, we were (on the whole) more realistic, but to some extent that depending on the individuals.  There were “battles” between what might loosely be called “the wets” and “the dries”, the former tending to emphasise the transitional costs and the latter the medium-term goal.   Some of the wets (I was mostly of the other persuasion) probably doubted that the 0 to 2 per cent inflation target, adopted in 1988, was really worth pursuing.  Perhaps what united us was a belief that a lot of other reform –  greater fiscal adjustment and more micro reform –  would reduce the costs of getting inflation sustainably down.

Some 20 years ago now I wrote a Bulletin article on the origins and early development of the inflation targeting regime.  In that article, I tried to capture some of competing models that influenced the legislative framework (a funny mix of independence –  not trusting politicians –  and accountability –  not trusting officials and having ministers hold them to account). I also reported some extracts from some of the papers we wrote (I often holding the pen) as the target came together.    From one early and somewhat ambivalent paper (and I can’t recall why shipping got so much attention that month)

Moreover, the Bank noted that “the potential improvements in living standards to be derived from more rapid and complete removal of import protection, and the deregulation of such grossly inefficient sectors as the waterfront (already under
way) and coastal shipping, far outweigh the real economic benefits of slightly faster [emphasis added] reductions in inflation”. In an early echo of what later became a dominant theme in subsequent years, the Bank argued that if price stability was to be pursued over a relatively short time horizon, everything possible needed to be done at least to try to influence expectations and wage and price-setting behaviour.

This post isn’t about having a go at Charles Goodhart, The Treasury, the Bank, or me and my colleagues who were working on some of this stuff at the time.   Mostly, it is just about history, and the sober perspective that history often provides –  things that seemed clear at the time seem less clear with the perspective of time, and some things –  that one later realises are really quite important –  that hardly get attention at all.  If it is an argument for anything, it is probably for more open and deliberative government and policy development processes, perhaps even for incremental and piecemeal (in Popper’s words) reform.   That probably never appeals to reformers –  perhaps especially not young ones  –  and perhaps there are occasions when it can’t be (practically) the chosen path, but blindspots are all too real.

As for the Reserve Bank Act 1989, if there were mistakes and weaknesses in its design (most especially the single decisionmaker model), it did probably serve New Zealand fairly well for several decades.  It was, almost certainly, superior to the Atkinson/Treasury scheme.   And yet one can also overstate the difference legislation really makes –  Australia having made a similar transition to low and stable inflation under legislation still much as it was first passed in 1959.

 

 

 

1984 and all that

Eric Crampton of the New Zealand Initiative yesterday sent out a couple of tweets drawn from some pages a reader had sent him from Wellington’s evening newspaper of 18 July 1984.    The general election had taken place on the 14th and the foreign exchange market had been officially closed for a couple of days as everyone awaited resolution of the political disputes around who would take responsibility for the by-now-inevitable devaluation.  The outgoing (but still caretaker) Prime Minister finally buckled and a 20 per cent devaluation was announced on the 18th.   It marked the beginning of almost ten years of pretty thoroughgoing economic reforms, the legacy of which (good and ill) is still with us today.

Anyway, here were Eric’s tweets

(Click on the right-hand side of the first page and you can read a “fake news” story from 1984, how the Evening Post fell for a Michael Cullen hoax press release.)

Eric’s tweets sent me down to the garage and my box of old newspapers from (in)auspicious days.  I didn’t have that particular one, but I did find one from a couple of days earlier.  In that paper there was an advert for a competition offering as a prize a microwave with a retail value of $1495 –  $4800 in today’s money.   Whether you run with Eric’s microwave advert or mine, there is no doubt some things are dramatically cheaper (in real terms) than they were then.  Of course, for many technology items that will be true everywhere; it isn’t primarily a New Zealand story. Actually, flicking through that old paper it was the car prices that surprised me more: a two-year old Ford Cortina advertised for $18995 ($61000 in today’s money).   The New Zealand car assembly industry then really was very heavily protected.

Eric notes “we forget too quickly what a mess the place was in”, which reads a little oddly when he did not, I gather, come to New Zealand for another 20 years.  But setting that quibble to one side, and taking on board my own youthful enthusiasm for most or all of the reforms being done at the time (most of which still seem right and/or necessary), I think that with the benefit of hindsight the picture is rather more mixed than perhaps Eric suggests.

On the macro side, the problems were all-too-evident.  Fiscal imbalances were large and the balance of payments current account deficit was large.  If debt levels (government and external) weren’t that high by the standards which too much of the advanced world has since become used to, they were a huge departure from New Zealand’s post-war experience.  Inflation was partially suppressed by a series of freezes –  although Muldoon had lifted the price freeze a few months earlier –  supported by a series of interest rate controls, which were undoing the partial financial liberalisation of the 1970s.   Outside the control of any government, the terms of trade had been trending down for 20 years, and New Zealand material living standards and productivity had been falling behind those nearer the upper ranks of the OECD group.   We were still in the construction phase of that disastrous set of wealth-destroying government sponsored energy projects known as “Think Big”.  And if protective barriers were slowly being removed –  for example, CER was inaugurated the previous year –  it was a slow and halting journey at best. High protective barriers not only made many goods unnecessarily expensive to New Zealand consumers, but acted as a heavy tax on actual and potential New Zealand exporters.  Much about the tax system was in a mess.

And yet, and yet.

The unemployment rate in June 1984 (from Simon Chapple’s work backdating the HLFS) is estimated to have been 4.4 per cent.  Right now it is 4.3 per cent –   and 4.3 per cent is well below the average for the last 20 years, while the 1984 was well above the comparable average.

Or house prices.  I started looking to buy a first house a few months later, in early 1985.   Single 22 year olds could do that sort of thing in those days.  Yes, concessional Reserve Bank staff mortgages would have helped, but I recall looking at various houses in Island Bay and Newtown for about $80000.  That’s less than $250000 in today’s money.   The same houses now look to be perhaps $750000.    That mess was created by some of the post-1984 reforms.

Or productivity.  In that old newspaper I dug out of the garage I found a post-election op-ed written by Len Bayliss, then a leading New Zealand economist.  Among the five major economic challenges he identified for the new government was this

Fifth –  extremely poor productivity growth, and more recently GDP growth, have been the subject of a series of economic reports since 1962.  As a consequence of this poor performance, other countries’ living standards have risen more than New Zealand’s.

The worst single period for productivity growth in New Zealand history was in late 1970s, but even 35 years ago people knew that the problems were much more deep-seated.   Unfortunately, of course, the productivity gaps are now larger than they were in 1984. On OECD estimates of real GDP per hour worked, in 1984 we were close to the levels in Iceland, Ireland, and Finland.  These days, we are far behind each of them.   We were only about 10 per cent behind the UK in those days, and now they are about 30 per cent ahead of us.    Things might not be in such a “mess” nowadays –  disorderly macro imbalances and weird interventions –  but the economic bottom line still makes sorry reading.   No champion of change in 1984, told all the policies that would be adopted and the huge measure of macro stability achieved, would have predicted that we’d have drifted further behind by 2019.

Perhaps especially if they’d been given the additional information of what would happen to New Zealand’s terms of trade over the subsequent decades – the turnaround (outside any government’s control) starting just a couple of years after the reform period got underway.

TOT annual

The devaluation in July 1984 was a huge part of the economic narrative at the time.  There was a strongly-held consensus, among local officials, local commentators (it is explicit in that Len Bayliss article) and international agencies, that the New Zealand real exchange rate had become persistently out of line with fundamentals, and that a substantial and sustained depreciation would have to be a significant part of putting the economy on a better-footing.   It was, among other things, a repeated and urgent theme of the numerous meetings I attended, as a junior note-taking official, in late 1984.

And here are the two OECD measures of New Zealand’s real exchange rate.

RER 84

I’ve marked the 1984 devaluation.  In real terms, it proved very temporary indeed.    It would be great if really strong and sustained productivity growth had supported a structural increase in the real exchange rate.  But that, of course, hasn’t been the story.  Once we got through the disinflation period –  when it was reasonable to expect some temporary periods with a high real exchange rate –  it seems to reflect the same sort of domestic demand pressures that have given us persistently among the very highest real interest rates in the advanced world.

And then there is foreign trade.  A narrative at the time was the heavy protection had resulted in New Zealand’s foreign trade shares of GDP falling, or failing to grow.  The overvalued exchange rate (see above) further impeded the prospects of potential export industries, probably only partly offset by the various (highly questionable) export incentives and subsidies.

And yet

trade shares feb 19

I’ve circled the data for the years to March 1984 (latest actuals when the devaluation happened) and for the year to March 1985.  There was, as you would expect, a short-term boost to the nominal trade shares on account of the devaluation, but of course that didn’t last.  But if we take the subsequent 33 years together, there is just no sign of foreign trade having become more important to the New Zealand economy  (as it happens, exports as share of GDP in the year to March 2018 were almost identical to those in the year to March 1984).  Only one other OECD country has not seen the export share of GDP increase over that time.

I don’t want to kick off a futile debate about whether the reforms should have been done.  I’m still squarely in the camp that most should have been.  But, equally, nothing is gained by pretending to a degree of economic success we haven’t achieved.   We’ve shared –  with every market economy (and probably the non-market ones too) –  the rapid declines in the cost of various technology goods and services.  All of our own doing, we’ve managed to bring about, and sustain, an impressive level of macroeconomic stability.   But, equally all of our own doing, we’ve managed to rig the housing market against the current (and next) young generation, and despite reducing or removing all manner of protective barriers (and even getting other countries to do something similar for stuff New Zealand firms exports), foreign trade shares are no higher now than they were on that momentous day in 1984.  And, as for productivity, poor –  and rightly alarming –  as it was then, all indications are that it is worse now, and there are no signs of  those gaps beginning to close.

The New Zealand economy isn’t in some disorderly mess at present.  But if it is perhaps more orderly, it is failing nonetheless.

Looking back to the deposit guarantee

12 October 2008 was a frantic day.  It was a Sunday, and I never work Sundays (well, two financial crises, one in Zambia, one in New Zealand, in 30+ years).  There was a call in the middle of our church service summoning all hands to the pump, to put in place a retail deposit guarantee scheme that day.   We did it.  My diary later that night records that we’d “delivered a brand spanking new not very good deposit guarantee scheme”, announced a few hours earlier.   It was a joint effort of the Reserve Bank and The Treasury.

I had recently taken up a secondment at The Treasury.  I’d been becoming increasingly uneasy about the New Zealand financial situation for some months (flicking through my copy of Alan Bollard’s book on the crisis I found wedged inside a copy of an email exchange he and I had had a month or so earlier about Lender of Last Resort options for sound finance companies, potentially caught up in contagious runs) but I hadn’t had any material involvement in the unfolding sequence of finance company failures.   But it was the escalating international financial crisis – this was four weeks after Lehmans, 3.5 weeks after the AIG bailout, two weeks after the US House of Representatives initially voted down TARP, and two weeks after the Irish government surprised everyone by announcing comprehensive deposit guarantees –  that really accelerated interest in the question of what, if anything, New Zealand should do, or might eventually be more or less compelled to do.    The initiative for some more pro-active planning came from The Treasury, but with some parallel impetus  –  including around guarantees – from the then Minister of Finance, Michael Cullen (who, a few days out from Labour’s campaign launch, was also looking for pre-election fiscal stimulus measures).

On Tuesday 7 October, there was a long meeting at the Reserve Bank, attended by both the Secretary to the Treasury, John Whitehead, and the Governor of the Reserve Bank.  My memory – and my contemporary diary impression – is that the Governor was considerably more focused on the managing the Minister’s political concerns than on any sort of first-best response.    But the outcome of that meeting was agreement to quickly work up a joint paper for the Minister which would not, at that stage, recommend introducing a deposit guarantee scheme, but which would outline the relevant issues and operational parameters, giving us something to work from if the situation worsened.

Which it quickly did, both on international markets, and with the political pressure, with the Prime Minister signalling that she wanted to be able to announce something about guarantees in her campaign launch that coming Sunday afternoon.

I and a handful of others on both sides of The Terrace scurried round for the next few days.  I see that in my diary I wondered what the best approach was: do nothing, allow some risk of the crisis engulfing us, and then pick up the pieces afterwards, or be more pro-active and take the guarantee route.  My conclusion –  and even today I wince at the parallel (but this was a late-at-night comment) – “I suspect that if the pressures really come on, the Irish approach is best”.   As relevant context, although much of the finance company sector was in solvency trouble (many had already failed) there were no serious concerns about the solvency of the banking system.   (Liquidity was, potentially, another issue.)

At Treasury we had recognised the importance of the Australian connection –  most of our banks being Australian-owned.     I’m not sure of the date, but we had taken the initiative –  at Deputy Secretary level –  of approaching the Australian Treasury to see if they were interested in doing some joint contigency planning around deposit guarantees, and had been told that the Treasurer had no interest in such guarantees and so our suggestion/offer was declined.

But even Australian authorities could look out the window and see that the global situation was deteriorating rapidly, and by late in the week that recognition was being passed back to authorities on this side of the Tasman.  Alan Bollard always kept in close contact with his RBA counterpart Glenn Stevens, and on the Friday my diary records (presumably told by some RBNZ person I was working with) “apparently Glenn S[tevens[ told Alan this afternoon that the RBA/authorities might fairly soon have to consider a blanket guarantee”.     In the flurry and uncertainty, one other senior RBNZ person –  still holding a senior position there –  told me that in his view nothing should be done here unless there were queues outside New Zealand banks.

Between a handful of people on the two sides of the street, we got a paper on deposit guarantee scheme possibilities out to the Minister of Finance on the Friday afternoon.  It was a mad rush, with some uneasy negotiated compromises (and everyone’s particular hobbyhorse concern got its own mention). I was probably too close to it to tell, and noted I wasn’t that comfortable with it, but when I got Alan Bollard’s signature he indicated he was happy with it.  I noted “lots of small details to sort out next week –  we hope only that, not implementation”.     To this point, we were focused mostly  on retail deposits, but I see in my diary that in The Australian on the Saturday there was talk from bank CEOs of a possible need for a wholesale guarantee scheme.

The full, unredacted, paper we wrote is available on The Treasury’s website.   The thrust of the advice was that (a) action was not necessary immediately, but (b) that should conditions worsen a scheme could be put in place at quite short notice.  The rest of the paper outlined the relevant issues, and the recommended features of any such scheme, and we advised against announcing a scheme until the remaining operational details had been sorted out, something we suggested could be done in the folllowing week.

These were the key features we suggested, largely accepted by the Minister.

dgs 1

One thing that puzzles me looking back now is why we were focused on guarantee options, rather than lender of last resort options.  The latter would have involved lending on acceptable collateral to institutions that we judged to be solvent, perhaps at a penal rate.  It was the classic response to the idea of a contagious run –  troubles elsewhere in the financial system spark concerns about other institutions, and people “run” –  cashing in deposits, retail or wholesale –  just in case.  A sound institution could, in principle, be brought down very quickly by such a run (empirically there are few such examples –  most actual runs end up being on institutions that prove to be at-best borderline solvent).

In the paper we sent to the Minister on 10 October we don’t seem to address that option at all.  I presume the reason we didn’t was twofold.  First, guarantees were beginning to proliferate globally.  And second, there probably is a pretty strong argument that if (a) you are convinced your banking system is sound, and (b) there are nonetheless doubts in the wider environment (in this case, a full scale global crisis, and a domestic recession), a guarantee is likely to be considerably more effective in underpinning confidence.  Not so much depositor confidence, as the confidence of bankers (and their boards).    Even if lender of last resort funding, on decent collateral, had been available without question, few bankers would have been happy to rely on that, and many would have been very keen to cut exposures, pull in loans, and reduce their dependence on the good nature of the Reserve Bank Governor.   A guarantee –  where the Crown’s money is at stake –  is a much stronger signal than a loan secured on the institution’s very best assets.   On the other hand, as the paper does note, once given a guarantee may not leave one with much leverage over the guaranteed institution.

Almost all of the subsequent controversy around the deposit guarantee scheme related in one form or another to one key choice.

All the systemically significant financial institutions in New Zealand were banks (not that all banks were systemically significant).  But they were not, by any means, the only deposit-taking institutions, and we were in the midst at the time of a finance company in which many companies were proving to be insolvent and failing.  Other finance companies appeared –  not just to the Reserve Bank, but to the market, and to ratings agencies – just fine.

Treasury and the Reserve Bank jointly recommended to the Minister that any deposit guarantee scheme include finance companies.  Why did we do that?

The simple reason was one of both fairness and efficiency.  Had we proposed to offer a guarantee only to banks (let alone only the big banks) then in a climate of uncertainty and heightened risk, there would have been an extremely high risk that such an action would have been a near-immediate death sentence for the other deposit-taking institutions, including ones with investment grade ratings, and in full compliance with their trust deeds.    We knew that finance companies (while small in aggregate) were riskier than our banks, but that was no good reason to recommend to the government a model that would have killed off apparently viable private businesses.  It still seeems, with the information we had at the time, an unimpeachable argument.  Classic lender of last resort models, for example, don’t differentiate by the size of the borrowing institution.

We weren’t naive about the risks –  including that there was still no prudential supervision of finance companies and the like –  and we explicitly recommended that risk-based fees (tied to ratings) be adopted, and the maximum coverage per depositor be much lower for unrated entities.   We included in the table an indicative fee scale, based credit default swap pricing for AA-rated banks in normal times, scaling up (quite dramatically) based on the much higher default probabilities of lower-rated entities.

We even included a indicative, totally back of the envelope, guess as to potential fiscal losses –  drawing on the experience of the US S&L crisis.  As it happens, actual losses were to be less than that number, even though the scheme as adopted by the Minister of Finance was less good than the one we recommended.  (Treasury provided some other –  but lower – loss estimates a few days after the actual announcement, but I can’t see those on the Treasury website and can’t now recall the approximate numbers.)

But all that was just warm up.   We’d been under the impression that the Prime Minister was going to announce, in her campaign launch speech, that preparatory work was underway on a deposit guarantee scheme.  That was probably her intention.  But that didn’t allow for the Rudd effect.  The Australian Prime Minister decided that he was going to announce an actual retail guarantee scheme for Australia that day –  the Sunday.  And so it was concluded that New Zealand had little choice but to follow suit.   As a matter of economics, there probably was little real choice but to follow the Australian lead.  But the timing was all about politics.  Neither economic nor financial stability would have been jeopardised if we hadn’t had a deposit guarantee scheme announced before the banks opened on Monday morning.  We’d have been much better to have taken a bit more time and hashed out some of the details with the Minister in his office in Wellington, not at campaign launches and then, as the day went on, airport lounges (at one point late that afternoon I –  who’d talked to the Minister perhaps twice in my life previously –  was deputed to ring Dr Cullen and get his approval or some detail or other of the scheme).   But I guess it might have left open a brief window in which critics might have suggested that New Zealand politicians were doing less for their citizens and their economy than their Australian counterparts.

The main, and important, area in which Dr Cullen departed from official advice was around the matter of fees.   We’d recommended that the risk-based fees would apply from the first dollar of covered deposits (as in any other sort of insurance).     The Minister’s approach was transparently political –  he was happy to charge fees to big Australian banks (who represented the lowest risks) but not to New Zealand institutions (including Kiwibank).  And so an arbitrary line was drawn that fees would be charged only on deposits in excess of $5 billion.   Apart from any other considerations, that gave up a lot of the potential revenue that would have partly offset expected losses.  The initial decision was insane, and a few days later we got him to agree to a regime where really lowly-rated (or unrated) institutions would have to pay a (too low) fee on any material increases in their deposits. A few days later again an attenuated pricing schedule was applied to deposit-growth in all covered entities.   But the seeds of the subsequent problems were sown in that initial set of decisions.

The weeks after the initial announcement were intense.  We rushed to get appropriate deed documents drawn up, dealt with endless request from institutional vehicles not covered who sought inclusion (property trust, money market funds etc), and set up a monitoring regime.  In parallel, we quickly realised that the way wholesale funding markets were freezing up suggested that a wholesale guarantee scheme was appropriate, and got something announced in a matter of weeks –  a much more tightly-designed, better priced scheme, operating only on new borrowing (but I’m biased as that scheme was mostly my baby).  As it happens, that scheme provided the leverage to actually get the big banks into the deposit guarantee scheme.  Once the government had announced the retail scheme the big banks had little incentive to get in –  they probably thought of themselves (no doubt rightly) as sound and as too big to fail –  and the scheme was an opt-in one (we couldn’t just by decree compel banks to pay large fees).   But the Minister of Finance –  probably reasonably enough –  insisted that if banks wanted a wholesale scheme (which they really did) it would be a condition that they first sign up to (and pay for) the retail scheme.  Perhaps less defensible was the Minister’s insistence that any bank signing up to the guarantee scheme indicate that it would avoid mortgagee sales of home owners in negative equity but still servicing their debt (the ability of banks to do so is a standard provision of mortgage documentation).

After the first few weeks of the retail scheme I had only relatively limited ongoing involvement, and so I’m not going to get into litigating or relitigating the South Canterbury Finance failure, and whether –  even the constraints the Minister put on –  and how that could by then have been avoided (the Auditor-General report some years ago looked at some of those issues).   The outcome was highly unfortunate, and expensive.  Nonetheless, it is worth remembering that the total cost of all the guarantee schemes – retail and wholesale – was considerably less than officials had warned was possible.  And it is simply not possible to know the counterfactual –  how things might have unfolded here had either no guarantees been offered, or if the finance companies and building societies had been excluded from day one.  Personally, I think neither would have provided politically tenable, but we’ll never know that, or how that alternative world played out.

But with the information we had at the time –  including, for example, the investment grade credit rating for SCF (which had outstanding wholesale debt issues abroad –  and actually my only meeting with SCF was about their interest, eventually not pursued, to try to use the wholesale guarantee scheme) –  the recommendation made on 10 October seem more or less right. Given the same information I’m not sure I’d advise something different now.  And once Australia had made the decision to guarantee retail deposits, there was little effective economic or political choice for New Zealand.   Had they not done so –  and there was real data, regarding increasing demand for physical cash in Australia, supporting Rudd’s action (rushed as timing was) – perhaps we could have got away with a well-designed wholesale guarantee only.   That would have been a first-best preferable world, but it wasn’t the set of facts we actually had to work with.

 

Electioneering 1954 style

A few weekends ago I was fossicking in a charity book sale when I stumbled on The National Government 1949-1954: FIve Years of Progress and Prosperity, published by the National Party.   It was, it appears, published as part of National’s 1954 election campaign: 150 pages of (often quite detailed) text and tables, complete with a detailed chronology of measures, and an index.

I’ve always been interested in that first National government.  Apart from anything else, the Prime Minister (and Minister of Finance) was my grandfather’s cousin –  they’d been close, and in our family Sid Holland was always “Uncle Sid”.  It was a government with a fairly mixed record.  Through my career at the Reserve Bank I was always quietly proud that a relative had legislated to establish the primacy of price stability in what we expected from monetary policy and to put monetary policymaking at a further remove from direct ministerial control (even if, in practice, it didn’t make much difference).

There was some genuine liberalisation –  including of those banes of New Zealand economic management for too many decades, import licensing and exchange control.  And there was the ANZUS Treaty –  which I hadn’t previously known came into effect on ANZAC Day, a nice touch –  and the interesting episode of New Zealand’s approach to the Suez crisis.  It was the time of the wildly popular first ever visit by a reigning sovereign.  And the sort of short-term austerity that led to the Auckland Harbour Bridge being built too narrow from the start, or central planning that meant that for years the Reserve Bank wasn’t allowed to start building its own building.

In the territory of serious black marks, it is hard to defend the way the 1951 waterfront strike was handled –  not so much the confrontation with the watersiders itself, but the brutal undermining of civil liberties and the freedom of the press during that period –  often using powers introduced by the previous Labour government.

Perhaps only in New Zealand  –  where good histories and biographies are few – could a government that was in power for eight years, with a leader who spent 17 years in the role, not have either a decent scholarly treatment of that government or a biography of its leader.

But what of the book?

It has a foreword by the Prime Minister which, I imagine, captures quite well the way National saw things in those years

It is a proud thing to belong to a Government which is able to say that the people have never been better off, that there is a new spirit of vigour and enterprise abroad in the land, that there was never a time when so much progress was being made in the development of the resources of the country.

Once again, New Zealanders feel that the future belongs to them…….

Freedom, which is at the heart of the National Government’s philosophy, is perhaps an intangible thing – until you have lost it.  But it yields tangible results. The Government’s recrod, which this book outlines, is the answer to those who stand to the creed of Socialism.

But having lauded freedom, the Prime Minister goes on to laud the apparently growing role of the state.

A vast programme of development works is in progress –  imaginative and progressive schemes like the new pulp and paper and timber industry in the Rotorua-Bay of Plenty area, the utilisation of geothermal steam, the huge hydro-electric project at Roxburgh.  More hospitals, more schools, more houses –  there is no neglect of everyday necessities because of the scale of the development programme.  The Government has liberalised and extended social services, more is provided for other social services, trade is booming, the needy are cared for, the workers are prosperous, savings are greater.  On all fronts New Zealand has gone ahead, as a young country should…..

I lived in Kawerau as a child, but it is only over the last decade as I’ve come to read a lot more New Zealand history that I’ve come to realise how big a deal –  in some way, the decade’s Think Big, complete with outside capital and protected markets –  the Kawera/Murupara development really was in the 1950s.  The state was at the leading edge of promoting economic development, as it saw it (in this book, the Kawerua scheme is described –  perhaps with a little exaggeration, depending on how one classifies Vogel’s interventions –  as “the greatest single enterprise ever attempted in New Zealand”.

On the one hand, in the early 1950s, New Zealand still had some of the very highest material living standards in the world.  On the other, only a few years later people started writing serious reports (eg the new Monetary and Economic Council and the new NZIER) observing that New Zealand’s productivity growth was lagging behind.  Sadly, it was to be the story every decade from then to now.

But this post isn’t really intended to be an abbreviated political or economic history of the decade.  It was more that I was fascinated by things the National Party chose to highlight, and the accounts of interventions I’d just never been aware of.

Take rest homes for example.  When I was young, almost all of them were run and provided by church groups. I had never given much thought to why –  caring for the vulnerable was one of those things the church had done since Roman times.   But this little book tells how the government skewed the playing field:

Soon after taking office the Government introduced a policy of helping charitable or religious organisation to establish homes for aged people. Generous subsidies, up to 50 per cent, are offered, together with loans finance on favourable terms in respect of housing schemes.

The next sub-section recounts the introduction of a similar subsidy for such groups to establish youth hostels.

There are reminder of times past: anti-tuberculosis campaigns get two-thirds of a page to themselves.

There were 506000 radio licences in New Zealand in 1954, and not a single television.

And in a country of two million people, there were still only 334580 telephone subscribers (and a little subsection on “Mobile telephone services” –  some 2000 people had telephones in vehicles, up from only 192 when the government had taken office five years earlier).

The forerunner to Air New Zealand –  Tasman Empire Airways Ltd –  flew 30888 people trans-Tasman in the entire year to March 1954: fewer than 100 a day.  Domestic air services, so the party (fairly) boasted, has increased substantially during its term in government, but total passenger numbers were still less than 1000 per day.

And if economists are (largely rightly) inclined to be censorious about the excess demand policies of the period (inflation nonethless kept in check) there is still something to hanker after in these numbers:

In spite of the large increases in the labour force, ample work is still available.  At 15/1053 the number of vacancies for men was 13500 and for women 6500. Unemployment in 1953 averaged only 85 persons throughout the year.

(These were people registered as unemployed.  Five-yearly census numbers were higher, but still very low by modern standards.)

These were the days when, in New Zealand almost uniquely, cars held their value, the numbers imported being rationed.  There was an exception for people with overseas funds themselves (the “no-remittance” scheme) –  which made an English OE additionally attractive.  My grandfather was not infrequently heard to jest that my father proposed to his daughter only because she had a car, (having done her OE).

What of monetary policy?

The declared policy of the Government is to divorce currency and credit from political control, to avoid the issue of credit unbalanced by goods and services, and to stabilise internal prices by establishing a proper balance between money and goods.

From an economist’s perspective, two out of three isn’t bad, but that middle phrase is disconcertingly reminiscent of the real bills doctrine.  In fairness, the same government liberalised what were then known as “capital issues controls” restricting the ability of firms to raise funds on market.

And if there were elements of liberalisation, (eg the “state monopoly of coal seams” was abolished  on 10 October 1950) there was also this

The Potato Board was established in 1950 to control the production and marketing of main crop potatoes.

Why, one has to wonder?

In the some things don’t seem to change category, there was the boast that

Maori land claims.  Removal of grievances over land claims is being vigorously pursued, Claims settled include: [and a list follows]

Perhaps in the same category, pages and pages are devoted to housing and housing finance, including this curious observation under the heading “Encouraging local authorities to buy land and develop it for housing”

A retarding influence in many cases has been the desire on the part of local bodies to avoid placing a further burden on ratepayers by raising loans for housing activities, but the loan procedure has been simplified to open the way for local authorities to engage in housing activities without recourse to long-term finance.  They can now finance these projects on bank overdraft.

I’m clearly missing something in understanding the greater appeal of a bank overdraft.

Meanwhile large scale immigration has restarted (I wrote about it here), including subsidised (“assisted”) migration.  Being a skilled building trade worker was enough to get assisted passage for married people (at the time, policy explicitly favoured single people because of the housing shortages).  But there is no hint of the politicians realising –  what economists knew even then –  that new arrivals added more to housing demand, and overall resource pressure, than any feasible increase in supply (even in the building sector specifically).

For an economic history junkie, it is a fascinating read.  There is the line from L P Hartley’s novel The Go-Between that “the past is another country, they do things differently there”, and it comes to mind strongly reading this book  And, it won’t surprise regular readers to know that the other thought that comes to mind is one along the lines of “if only” we’d done things differently then and since, and could still today boast of being one of the richest countries in the world.  How much more we could offer our people –  on market, and off.  Of course, in material terms, people are better off today than they were in 1954.  That is an important benchmark, too easily lost sight of –  only a few years prior to 1954 my mother had done her masters’ thesis on the incidence of basic home appliances in Dunedin (far from universal) –  and yet, and yet, the failures and lost opportunities since then, which mean we now languish so far down the international league tables, matter too.  Both National and Labour must take responsibility for that failure.  Not that one would know it from either party’s campaigns last year.

 

World War One and the New Zealand economy

Earlier this week, in the lead up to ANZAC Day today, The Treasury drew attention to an interesting conference paper written a few years ago by Brian Easton on “The impact of the Great War on the New Zealand economy”.   From the opposite end of the political spectrum, Eric Crampton described it as “really great”.  I’m not sure I’d go that far, but for anyone interested in aspects of New Zealand’s economic history –  especially bits on which there are few systematic treatments (and often only patchy data) – it is certainly worth reading.

Easton’s focus is less on the details of how the economy did during the war than on supporting

my contention that the war experience fundamentally affected the way we governed New Zealand.  I shan’t be surprised if economic historians from other countries come to similar conclusions about their economies.

As Easton notes, the war itself took up a lot of resource.

How much diversion of resources? We dont know with any precision. During the war the troops overseas at any time, plus those in domestic training – amounting to at least 65,000 and even 100,000 men, over a fifth of the labour force – were not available for civilian production, but they were still consuming. Similarly there were workers diverted to producing war goods. There are no annual labour force figures at this time, so we don’t know the precise impact of having so many workers unavailable for domestic production. Some of the labour deficit would have been made up by running down the unemployed (although that was not a huge reserve), by drawing women into the labour force (although we dont know how many) and by working longer hours.

Other authors note that the number of women drawn into the labour force actually wasn’t that large.   In the 1916 Census, for example, there were 100000 women in paid employment, up from 90000 in the 1911 Census –  an increase as a proportion of the total female population, but not much of one (given the underlying rate of population growth). But it does appear that those people (male and female) in employment were  working a lot of overtime –  although data were only collected on female and youth overtime.

Easton surmises that resources equal to perhaps a third of GDP were diverted to the war –  similar to estimates of the resources devoted to World War Two.   Rich countries –  and New Zealand was then one of the very richest –  could afford to devote a large share to the war (since pre-war living standards were so much further above subsistence than in poorer countries).   One thing that made the New Zealand experience of World War One very different from that of World War Two, is that in the first war we had nothing like the massive influx of American troops seen after 1941 (our war was entirely overseas).

The war was financed by a mix of taxes and debt.

One of the most radical changes in our tax system occurred over the six years to 1919/20. Income tax made up just 9 percent of total tax receipts in 1913/14, behind customs duties (58%), land tax (13%) and death duties (10%). Six years later income tax was the single largest source of tax revenue at 39%, with the other three behind: customs 30%, land tax 9% and death duties 6%.

As for debt, here is a chart of the estimated public debt as a share of GDP.

ww1 debt

The level of debt – mostly domestic debt – roughly doubled, but there was so much inflation (despite, as Easton notes, resort to price controls) that the debt ratios themselves didn’t increase that much (nothing like the extent experienced in, say, the UK).  That didn’t stop our government claiming –  and securing –  a small portion of German reparation obligations after the war.

And that the demand impetus was led from the public sector rather than the private sector is evident in the ratio of trading bank advances to deposits.  There was plenty of deposit growth but pretty subdued growth in private credit.

adv to dep ratio

One aspect not touched on by Easton is that such rapid inflation was made possible by one of the very first New Zealand policy initiatives  –  the suspension of the Gold Standard.  In a very early post I wrote about that here, including the fact that gold convertibility was never resumed in New Zealand, and for the next 20 years (until the Reserve Bank was established) our monetary arrangements were idiosyncratic, and not really anchored at all.

But as I noted, Easton’s main concern in his paper is with the legacy of World War One for our economic management.    He argues, of the rehabilitation polices for returned servicemen

There is rarely a single event which initiates what proves to be a major policy, although there can be steps which accelerate its development. The rehab policies after the Great War might be thought of as starting the practice of widespread home ownership. Similarly the war’s broadening of the role of income tax was on the way to today’s dominant role of income tax in the revenue system. It seems likely that the administration of veterans’ pensions was part of the basis for the social security one set up in 1939.

And of the state control of exports during the war

….. by 1917 New Zealand had an agreement with the British Government that all the supplies available for exports would be requisitioned for the British market.

At the end of the war there was a considerable quantity of meat and wool in store. As shipping became available it, plus the normal annual production, was unloaded on the British market, as were South American supplies. Prices collapsed. Private enterprise seemed to have fail again, and the farmers turned to the public sector. In February 1922 the government, with dirigiste (‘Farmer Bill’) Massey at the forefront, passed legislation which established the Meat Producers Board with very wide powers. Although interrupted by the 1922 election, the Dairy Board was created almost as quickly.

We may ponder whether these producer boards would have been established as early – or at all – had there been no commandeer, had there been no Great War.

Perhaps more dubiously Easton argues for other longlasting legacies

This was most evident in the draconian wage and price freeze which the government of Robert Muldoon introduced in May 1982. The earlier war administrations would have been admiring. Of course, in ways that Muldoon never fully appreciated, New Zealand had moved on. The unwinding of centralised economic control that the successor government – the Rogernomes – undertook might be said to represent the end of the centralised Second World War approach to economic management of forty years earlier, itself a response to the Great War approach to economic management a further twenty-five years back.

Frankly, all of that seems a stretch in a New Zealand specific sense.   As he notes “I’m not sure that New Zealand was particularly more centralised than many of the other war economies”, and cross-country comparisons are often enlightening.  Ireland, for example, was long even more inward-looking than New Zealand.

Which isn’t to suggest that wars don’t have longlasting consequences –  economic, as well as political, social and personal.  Many scholars would ascribe the severity of the Great Depression in significant part to the conduct of policy (perhaps inevitable –  inflation, build-up of debt etc) around World War One.  Perhaps more locally, we wouldn’t have had a central bank as early as 1934 without the earlier war, and then the Depression.  Taxes and government spending seem permanently higher –  but who is say that that wasn’t an almost inescapable outcome of the worldwide lift in prosperity (and there is little sign that taxes are lower, or regulation less pervasive, in countries that stayed out of both wars).

On which note, perhaps I can end with the famous quote from John Maynard Keynes from The Economic Consequences of the Peace about the way in which global markets worked in the years prior to World War One.

The inhabitant of London could order by telephone, sipping his morning tea in bed, the various products of the whole earth, in such quantity as he might see fit, and reasonably expect their early delivery upon his doorstep; he could at the same moment and by the same means adventure his wealth in the natural resources and new enterprises of any quarter of the world, and share, without exertion or even trouble, in their prospective fruits and advantages; or he could decide to couple the security of his fortunes with the good faith of the townspeople of any substantial municipality in any continent that fancy or information might recommend.

He could secure forthwith, if he wished it, cheap and comfortable means of transit to any country or climate without passport or other formality, could despatch his servant to the neighbouring office of a bank for such supply of the precious metals as might seem convenient, and could then proceed abroad to foreign quarters, without knowledge of their religion, language, or customs, bearing coined wealth upon his person, and would consider himself greatly aggrieved and much surprised at the least interference. 

But, most important of all, he regarded this state of affairs as normal, certain, and permanent, except in the direction of further improvement, and any deviation from it as aberrant, scandalous, and avoidable.

And not a preferential trade agreement, attempting to reach behind borders and control this, that or the other aspects of other countries’ policies, in sight.

If anyone is interested, here is an early (surprisingly frequently read) post on New Zealand’s economy in World War Two.    There certainly seems to be a gap in the market for a good modern treatment of New Zealand economic history, and the history of economic policy, from say 1914 to 1945, encompassing the two wars.

For various other countries’ economic experience in World War One, I recommend Broadberry and Harrison’s The Economics of World War 1.

 

Len Bayliss RIP

I wasn’t planning to write anything today, but in the death notices of the Dominion-Post I noticed this morning the passing of Len Bayliss, one of the most prominent New Zealand economists of a previous generation (late 1960s to, say, the late 1980s).

I only met Len once, but when I first came to Wellington in the late 1970s he was a prominent public figure, and I was enough of a political/economic junkie to get a bit of a buzz from the fact that one of his sons was in my class at Rongotai College and that, for a year or two while I was at university, Len often caught the same bus into town each weekday morning as I did.

Len was born and educated in Britain, but wanted to get out of the United Kingdom after finishing his degree at Cambridge.  Eschewing South Africa for laudable reasons, he wrote to various banks and government agencies in Australia and New Zealand, and after an interview that seemed to be not much more than a cup of tea with a visiting Deputy Governor passing through London he was hired by the Reserve Bank of New Zealand in 1951, where he spent quite a few years in a vibrant economics department.

He moved on to the Monetary and Economic Council, and played a key role in that agency’s 1966 report calling for liberalisation of the financial sector –  which wasn’t particularly popular with the bureaucratic establishment.  But his most prominent perch was as the long-serving Chief Economist of the (state-owned) Bank of New Zealand, where he openly championed sound economic management and liberalisation.  In the early years of Muldoon’s Prime Ministership he served on the Prime Minister’s Policy Advisory Group and appears to have played an instrumental role in the financial liberalisation that government undertook in 1976/77.   Of Muldoon in this role he wrote

Excellent. He was the best boss I’ve ever had. Absolutely decisive. I wrote his speech for the Mansion House dinner, the most important speech he’d made after becoming PM. I gave it to him. He said send it to Treasury and see if it’s all right with them. They wrote back wanting something changed and wrote a little memo and he just put ‘No’. And he always was very proper. He may have been tough to his political opponents but as Bernard Galvin used to say, certainly in the time I was there, it was a very happy group. He never tried to force you to do anything. In a sense, he treated you just like a public servant, as a politician should treat them. He was decisive. He would argue very intelligently. Watching him at the Cabinet Economic Committee, he really tore strips off ministers who hadn’t done their homework. And I saw him several times in debates with Noel Lough [Deputy Secretary to the Treasury]. Noel Lough was a lovely bloke but Muldoon really won the debates.

After his secondment ended, Bayliss returned to the BNZ, from where a few years later, having become increasingly critical of the economic management of the New Zealand economy, he was put in a position where –  under fire from Muldoon, and with no support from the supine BNZ Board and management –  he felt he had no choice but to resign (at considerable financial cost to himself).

In the post-liberalisation year, Bayliss served on the Board of the BNZ, and he recounted in his published works the frustrations of trying to constrain a management gorging on bad credit, and eventually driving the bank to the point of failure.

At a macroeconomic level he had long-favoured liberalisation and stabilisation (cutting inflation, balancing the budget) but in the post-liberalisation decade he was increasingly uneasy about the persistently high real exchange rate –  a concern that he (rightly in my view) never lost.

As I said, I only met Len once –  although we had corresponded a bit since –  when the New Zealand Association of Economists asked me to record, and edit, a long interview with him (as part of a series on the life and work of prominent New Zealand economists).  The text of that interview has quite bit that might interest those concerned with the history of New Zealand economic and financial policy.

In preparing for that interview, I had been focused on the earlier decades and didn’t give the attention it warranted to his departure from the BNZ or his later time on the Board.   But

…as he records it, that interview and some follow-up questions from me prompted him to put together a volume of documents and recollections  –  Recollections: Bank of New Zealand 1981-1992  – dealing with his ouster from the BNZ and his later term as a government-appointed director of the BNZ as it descended into crisis and near-failure in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

And I used that material last year for a post on his ouster from the BNZ, having finally got under the skin of the Prime Minister once too often.

When some academic finally writes the definitive history of the financial debacle/crisis in New Zealand in the late 80s and early 90s, I hope they take time to draw on the perspectives and papers Bayliss has apparently lodged at Massey University.

His was a courageous voice, unusual for its day.  In an environment in which few could speak –  there weren’t many economists outside government –  it was a valuable contribution in articulating the increasing unease about New Zealand’s economic underperformance and poor economic management.

UPDATE (Oct 18)):  I was asked by the New Zealand Association of Economists to write an obituary.   It is on page 6 of the April 2018 issue of their newsletter Asymmetric Information.

 

Reflecting on Jim Anderton

I have a pleasant memory of the only time I met Jim Anderton. One of his daughters was in the same class as me at Remuera Intermediate, and at the end of the year the Andertons hosted a class barbecue at their home just up the street from the school.   I was a youthful political junkie and Jim Anderton was running for Mayor of Auckland.  It was a pleasant evening and he seemed to be a lively and engaged parent (later struck by the awfulness of the suicide of another daughter).

Accounts suggest that Anderton did a good job of helping to revitalise the Labour Party organisation in the late 1970s and early 1980s.  He was, for the time, a moderniser, instrumental in helping reduce the direct influence of the trade unions in the party, and promoting the selection of some able candidates who hadn’t served time in the party (eg Geoffrey Palmer).  Various tributes talk of a personal, and practical, generosity.

I don’t suppose either that there was any doubt that he pursued causes he believed in, and that those causes were, more or less, what he regarded as being in the best interests of New Zealanders (perhaps especially “ordinary working New Zealanders”).   Probably most politicians do.  Sometimes they are mostly right about the merits of the causes they pursue, and sometimes not.    In Anderton’s case, even if one agreeed with the sort of outcomes he might have hoped for, his views on the best means seem –  perhaps even more so with hindsight than at the time –  to have been pretty consistently wrong.   And for all the public talk in the last few days about Anderton’s contribution to New Zealand, few (if any) of the things he opposed in the 1980s have been unwound/reversed, and few of the things he championed when he served later as an effective senior minister have done much for New Zealanders.

Take the 1980s when, upon entering Parliament in 1984, Anderton quickly isolated himself in caucus.  Even before that election, he’d opposed the CER agreement with Australia, and opposed Roger Douglas’s talk of a need for a devaluation and a reduction in the real exchange rate.  Even after the 1984 election, in circumstances of quasi-crisis, Anderton still opposed the by-then inevitable devaluation –  and in league with Sir Robert Muldoon sought to use a select committee to run a kangaroo-court inquiry, to undermine the choices his own government had made.   He was opposed to GST, and he was opposed to creating SOEs for state-trading operations.   He opposed privatisations, whether small or large.   Of the large, there was vocal opposition to the sale of the BNZ and of Telecom.  I suspect the list of reform measures, not subsequently unwound, that Anderton did enthusiastically support would be considerably shorter –  perhaps vanishingly so –  than the list of those he opposed.

As a pure political achievement, to have survived resigning from the Labour Party – in a pre MMP period –  was worthy of note.  But then Winston Peters did much the same thing –  and he’d had the courage to resign his seat and win a by-election to return to Parliament.  And the distinctive Jim Anderton party has long since disappeared, as Anderton returned to the Labour fold.

And what causes did he champion as a senior minister (for a time, deputy prime minister, in the fifth Labour government).   Probably the institution that will be always associated with Anderton’s name is Kiwibank: it certainly wouldn’t have existed without him.  But to what end?   Has Kiwibank changed the shape of New Zealand banking?  Not in ways I can see.  It remains a pretty small player, operating in segments of the market where there has always been plenty of competition.  It hasn’t come to a sticky end –  as many state-owned banks have here and abroad –  but we’ve never had the data to know whether, even on strictly commercial grounds, the establishment of the bank was a good deal for taxpayers (but the fact that no private new entrant has tried something similar suggests probably not).   If simply promoting competition in banking had been the goal, perhaps it would have been preferable to have prevented the takeover of The National Bank by the ANZ?

There has been talk in the last few days of Anderton’s contribution to “revitalising the regions”.  I’m not sure what this can possibly mean –  even allowing for a few government offices being decentralised (at some cost) around regional centres.   Generally, the real exchange rate mattters much more for the economic health of the regions than direct stuff governments do.   Anderton was Minister of Economic Development.  In that role, he was keen on using taxpayer money to subsidise yacht-building (which didn’t end well), and a champion of film industry subsidies.   In tributes this week, there has also been the suggestion that Anderton was one of those responsible for the creation of the New Zealand Superannuation Fund, something I hadn’t heard before.   If so, I guess he deserves some partial credit for the fiscal restraint the then Labour government exercised in its first few years.  Beyond that, what was created was a leveraged speculative investment fund –  not a model followed, as far as I can tell, in other advanced economy –   with returns that over almost 15 years now really only seem to approximately compensate for the high risks the taxpayer is being exposed to.  No doubt Anderton opposed the decision in 1989 or 1990 to start raising the NZS eligibility age from 60 to 65, and the same opposition to any further increase in the age beyond 65 –  even though it is a step many other advanced countries have taken, as life expectancies improved –  was presumably behind any involvement he had in the creation of the NZSF.  In so doing, once again his hand was involved in holding back sensible gradual reforms, and keeping New Zealand a bit poorer than it need be.

I suspect many of the tributes of the last few days are mostly a reflection of Anderton’s part in the Labour reconcilation.  The prodigal son returned –  having been one of the leading figures in fomenting the civil wars in the first place, before walking out of the party.   They were tumultuous years, and few things are nastier than civil wars.  Anderton doesn’t ever seem to have been a team player, but by the end of his career he seem to have found his place back alongside the team he started with.

But from a whole-of-nation perspective, what did Anderton accomplish?     If the reforms of the 1980s and 1990s haven’t produced the results the advocates hoped for –  we still drift, more slowly, further behind other advanced countries – that wasn’t for the sorts of reasons Anderton advanced.  Had we followed his advice, we’d most likely now be poorer still –  and many of the issues around equality and social cohesion that he worried about might have been no more effectively addressed.     In the end, Anderton is perhaps best seen as a belated figure from the New Zealand of the 1950s and 60s.  There was a lot to like about the New Zealand of those years –  some of the best living standards in the world then – for all the increasingly costly distortions to our economy.   There are parallels to Muldoon –  who famously told a TV interviewer of his goal to leave New Zealand no worse than he found it –  both in the genuineness of their concerns, and the wrongness of too many of their policy stances.  Both seemed to back very reluctantly into the future, with all too much willingness to trust our fortunes to the state, and the possible winners identified by politicians and officials, rather than to the market.