Parliament should fund the Reserve Bank annually

Readers may well be getting a little tired of the run of posts this year on issues relating to the review of the Reserve Bank Act.  In truth, so am I.    However, The Treasury is inviting comments, with a deadline of later this month.

There are two stages to the review.  The first, led by Treasury, is around implementing reforms Labour campaigned on (a statutory monetary policy committee, and adding some sort of employment goal).  The second –  as yet ill-defined – is to be led jointly by the Reserve Bank and Treasury and is to look at any other issues that the Minister agrees warrant review.  For now, The Treasury is inviting views on what issues should be looked at in Stage 2.

My broad response to them on that question has been “anything and everything”.  The Reserve Bank Act –  and the other Acts the Bank operates under –  has grown like topsy over 30 years.  Roles and functions have changed.  Expectations around transparency have changed. And models that might have seemed sensible in 1989 – eg the role of the Board –  no longer do so today.   Probably the Act should be rewritten from scratch, but even if that doesn’t happen, no part of the current Act should be outside the scope of the review.   My post the other day proposed structural separation –  spinning out of the Bank a new Prudential Regulatory Agency.

Today I want to focus on funding the Reserve Bank’s operations, an aspect of the Act that could be easily overlooked as part of the review, but where current legislation falls far short of best practice.

Historically, there were typically no checks on the spending of a central bank.  Central banks “printed money” –  physically or electronically – and didn’t need to rely on tax revenue appropriated by Parliament.   They typically earned a lot of income by issuing (zero interest) bank notes, and investing the proceeds (often in government bonds).  I regaled my kids recently with the tale of the night –  the RBNZ 50th anniversary –  when the Bank took over the Michael Fowler Centre and hosted a banquet and dance (free) for staff and spouses, includng a McPhail and Gadsby floor show.  The kids asked who paid for it, and struggled to get their minds around the notion that “we just printed the money”, but that was the way things were.  These days –  rightly –  the Taxpayers’ Union would be all over such extravagance –  or the chauffeur for the Governor (and, if I recall rightly, even the Deputy Governor).  There was an Annual Report, of course, but little detail and no effective spending control or accountability.  It wasn’t that the Bank was always extravagant –  it wasn’t – but there were few or no external constraints.

The reformers of the late 1980s recognised the need for things to change.   But expenditure control took a distinctly secondary place to promoting and preserving the operational independence of the Bank in the conduct of monetary policy (recall that at the time the Bank was conceived of largely as a monetary policy agency).    There was much less concern about controlling spending than about closing off backdoor ways for a Minister of Finance to exert pressure on the Bank’s monetary policy.  The ability to threaten an annual parliamentary appropriation –  “go easy on monetary policy or I’ll cut your funding”  –  was seen as an important risk

And thus we ended up with the Funding Agreement model.  Under this model, the Governor and the Minister of Finance may reach a five-yearly agreement, which has to be ratified by Parliament,  on how much of the Bank’s income can be used for operating expenses in each of the subsequent five years.   I wrote about the model when the current funding agreement was ratified in 2015.

There had even been talk –  probably not welcomed at The Treasury –  of using the Permanent Legislative Authority route (a model used for judges’ salaries and Crown debt servicing), a model under which no parliamentary authority would ever have been required for the Bank’s spending.  Even at the time, that seemed a little self-important.

The Funding Agreement model certainly means that for most of any five year period, the Reserve Bank does not need to worry about ministerial pressure exerted via its budget.  And, as it happens, there has always been a Funding Agreement in place, and those funding agreements did help to lower substantially the level of spending at the Bank.  In that sense, they were a step forward relative to what had gone before.   But they are very far from best practice.

Treasury has a nice document on its website outlining the principle and process of parliamentary authorisation of public spending.  It begins this way

A long-standing principle under the Westminster style of government is that no expenditure of public money can take place without the prior approval of Parliament. In New Zealand, both the Constitution Act 1986 and the Public Finance Act 1989 continue this historical requirement.

Appropriation ensures that Parliament, on behalf of the taxpayer, has adequate scrutiny of how public resources are to be used and that the Government is held accountable for how it has used the public resources entrusted. The Estimates specify for each appropriation:
• a maximum amount of resources that can be consumed
• the purpose for which the appropriation can be used.

As they go on to note, most appropriations are for only a year at a time.

The Reserve Bank model falls short in a whole variety of ways:

  • there is no legislative requirement for there to be a funding agreement at all, and no (formal) consequences if the Governor and Minister do not (or cannot) agree on one,
  • there is no breakdown of the agreed level of spending between the Bank’s (quite different) stautory functions, and thus no restriction on the ability of the Bank to spend the money  in one area rather than another as it chooses,
  • there are no penalties or formal adverse consequences if the Bank spends beyond the limits set out in the funding agreement,
  • while the Minister and the Governor can agree to a variation in the level of the funding agreement during its term there is no ability for the Minister (say, a new government) to override the agreement, even temporarily (as, say, there is in respect of monetary policy itself),
  • in (almost?) all areas of public spending, the Minister asks Parliament for approval, and Parliament approves (or rejects) the proposed level of spending.  Officials make bids and try to persuade ministers of a need for more money for their department or agency, but they have no ability to block or formally constrain choices of the Minister and Parliament.  But the Reserve Bank Governor –  himself, in effect, appointed by unelected people (the Board) –  has that degree of control (no agreement needed, any agreement needs the Governor’s assent, and no consequences from failure to agree).

And it isn’t even that workable a model.  No corporate sets operating expenditure budgets five years in advance –  circumstances change, the price level changes, and so on.

And this is not some trivial government entity doing some unimportant function.  It isn’t primarily a trading entity spending money to make money.  The Reserve Bank is the key entity responsible for short to medium-term macroeconomic management, and has a huge range of discretionary power in areas of financial sector regulation.   And it has several billion dollars of Crown capital. The financial expenditure provisions are a glaring anomaly, out of step with one of the fundamental principle of our system of government.

The system hasn’t been grossly abused: mostly the Reserve Bank seems to spend fairly responsibly, and the Minister is advised by Treasury at the point of renegotiation.   But, equally, it is not as if the Minister and the Bank have gone above and beyond the formal statutory provisions: they could, for example, lay out detailed annual estimates, by functions, at the time the Funding Agreement was released, and report actuals against those estimates over the following five years.  But they don’t even do that: it is the sort of lack of transparency that led me to suggest earlier that there is no more transparency around the Bank’s spending plans –  one line item per year –  than there is around that of, say, the SIS.  And unlike the Bank, the SIS needs an annual parliamentary appropriation or it can’t spend anything at all.

A common argument –  at least among central bankers –  is that somehow central banks are different.  There is only one important respect in which they are: they earn far more than they spend.  But even that isn’t very important here.  Central banks make money largely through the statutory monopoly on currency issue, which is just (in effect) another form of taxation.  And spending and revenue are two quite different bits of government finance: IRD might collect lots of money, but it can only spend what Parliament appropriates.

And what of those arguments about avoiding back-door pressure?  Even they don’t mark out central banks.  After all, we don’t want ministers interfering in Police decisions either (a rather more important issue than a central bank), but Police are funded by parliamentary appropriation.  So is the Independent Police Complaints Authority.   There are plenty of regulatory agencies where policy might be set by politicians, but the implementation of that policy is set by an independent Board, and where backdoor pressure could –  in principle be applied.  Other bodies publish awkward reports that make life difficult for politicians.  But those bodies too are typically funded each year by parliamentary appropriation.  It is just how our system of government works.

When I wrote about this issue in 2015 (having only recently emerged from the Bank), I was hesitant about calling for radical change.   The funding agreement system itself could be tightened up in various ways, which might represent an improvement on what we have now.   But there isn’t any very obvious reason not to start with a clean sheet of paper, and build a new system –  aligned with how we manage public spending in the rest of government –  starting from the principle of annual appropriations, with a clear delineation by functions (monetary policy, financial system regulation, physical currency etc), and standard restrictions on the ability of ministers to reallocate funds across votes).

I’m not aware of any country that funds it central bank by annual appropriation.  But historically, central bank spending all round the world was subject to weak parliamentary control.  This is one of those areas where the international models aren’t attractive, and the standard should instead be the way in which we authorise spending across the rest of government.   This is a policy and regulatory agency –  not, say, primarily a trading entity (like, eg, the New Zealand Superannuation Fund) –  and should be funded, and held to account, accordingly.

Inflation is – still – expected to rise

Inflation is expected to rise gradually towards the two percent midpoint of the target range.

That was what the then Reserve Bank Governor said in the press release for the March quarter Monetary Policy Statement five years ago.

And today Grant Spencer (the unlawful “acting Governor”) said

Overall, CPI inflation is forecast to trend upwards towards the midpoint of the target range

So much time has passed, and so little has changed.  I could probably compile a complete set of those sorts of quotes, drawing from every OCR review for at least the last five years.

And this is how the Reserve Bank’s preferred core inflation measure has actually been performing.

core inflation feb 17

December 2009 was the last time core inflation was at 2 per cent.  And there is little or no sign that –  despite all the Reserve Bank forecasts –  that the gap has been closing.

The Reserve Bank doesn’t publish core inflation forecasts, but since they also don’t typically forecast price shocks (the sorts of one-offs that get sifted out in the core measures), their actual medium-term inflation forecasts are a reasonable proxy.   On the numbers published this morning, it will be September 2020 before we could expect to see core inflation back to 2 per cent –   if so, core inflation would have been below the (explicitly highlighted) target midpoint for more than a decade.  Even though over that whole period our Reserve Bank has not once come close to exhausting the limits of conventional monetary policy.

And the worst of it is that neither in the published statement this morning, nor in the press conference could the Bank’s second XI (holding the fort until the new Governor takes office next month) offer any explanation for why they are more likely to be right this time than in those previous five years of statements affirming that inflation was heading back to the target midpoint.   In fact, there was no sign of them even attempting such an explanation.

Over the years core inflation has been below target we’ve had the big boost to demand from the Christchurch repair process, a material further step up in the terms of trade (albeit with a fair amount of volaility), a significant reduction in unemployment, and the demand effects of an unexpectedly strong and persistent rate of population growth.  We’ve seen the end of the fiscal consolidation phase too.  And there has been no sign of core inflation picking up much, if at all.    What, we should expect to be told, is likely to make things different over the next few years?   And why have they got things wrong – again – over the last couple of years?

The Bank claims the output gap is now near-zero, but on their own (inevitably imprecise) estimates those resource pressures are a bit less than they were, and haven’t changed much for several years now.

In the press conference, there were several questions about the case for an OCR cut, which the Bank sought to bat away (not remotely convincingly in my view).  The “acting Governor” acknowledged that there is a risk that the next OCR adjustment could be a cut –  if the downside inflation surprises continue –  but repeatedly sought to play down the significance of the 2 per cent target midpoint, which –  as a focal point – was explicitly added to the Policy Targets Agreeement in 2012.  Asked –  channelling lines run in this blog –  whether it might not be time to take some risks, after eight years of (core) inflation below target, Spencer could only fall back on observing that inflation had been inside the range, and that what mattered was to be patient and confident that inflation would be back to the target midpoint before long.  In other words, trust us, even though that trust has been misplaced for years now.

Asked then whether there was not also a case for acting now to push up inflation to create more policy leeway (in nominal interest rates) when the next recession comes, Spencer could offer nothing more than the limp observation that “we have to have a good reason to change policy”, and that they wouldn’t want to change rates until they could be confident the policy could be sustained (even though the whole point of this particular proposal is to use lower policy rates in the short-term to generate higher policy rates in the medium-term).

I suspect that much of what is going on is the same old line was used to hear repeatedly from Graeme Wheeler – the “normalisation” of interest rates which are currently –  in the Deputy Governor’s words –  “very stimulatory”.   A common way of judging whether policy is “very stimulatory” or not might be to look at inflation developments, which suggest –  for now at least –  that the neutral interest rate has fallen.   The siren call of “policy normalisation” has tantalised central banks for much of the last decade –  none more so than the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, with two unwarranted and reversed sets of OCR increases –  and isn’t helping the cause of good policy.  Perhaps –  perhaps even probably –  at some point interest rates will move up quite a lot and stay higher, but that hasn’t a helpful guide to practical policy at any time in the last decade.   Actual (core) inflation, by contrast, has been.   The Reserve Bank now seems tantalised by the official rate increases in the US and Canada, but there is little sign of that becoming a generalised pattern across advanced country central banks –  partly because there is little sign of generalised increases in core inflation.

There was one new interesting development in the Monetary Policy Statement.  Buried in a footnote was the report of a new point estimate for the NAIRU of 4.7 per cent (in the press conference, they added a range of 4.0 to 5.5 per cent), based on some as yet unpublished research work.  I welcome the publication of the estimate –  a step forward –  but I’m a bit sceptical about their number (which is actually higher than the NAIRU estimate the Bank had in its models a decade ago, and there are good reasons to think NAIRUs –  here and abroad –  have been falling over time).  But if they really believe the story that the output gap is zero and the unemployment gap is zero, and their own data show (see chart here) that there is nothing unusual about the current relationship between core tradables and core non-tradables inflation, then it raises some questions they don’t seem to have attempted to answer.  Given that actual core inflation has been persistently low, it would suggest that inflation expectations are also well below the target midpoint.  As I’ve illustrated again recently, that is certainly the case in bond market indicators (unlike say the case in the US), but the Bank continues to assert that there is no issue and that inflation expectations are securely anchored at 2 per cent.  Something in their story doesn’t seem to add up.

In a way, today’s Monetary Policy Statement doesn’t matter much:

  • Spencer himself retires in six weeks or so, just after the next OCR review,
  • a new single-decisionmaker Governor will take office, and we have heard as yet nothing from him about his approach to the role,
  • there will be a new PTA, which the government has not yet given us any details (although there have been some suggestions that the 2 per cent midpoint reference might be removed),
  • the statutory goal of monetary policy is to be amended later this year (presumably also requiring a new PTA), but with no details yet, and
  • a statutory Monetary Policy Committee is to be put in place shortly, including with outside members.

In other words, what Grant Spencer thinks today about future policy isn’t that important and obviously isn’t binding.  But there is no reason why the analytical part of the document could not have been a lot more persuasive –  if in fact the existing senior management team has a compelling story to tell.  As it is, they don’t seem to.

At the end of the press conference, Bernard Hickey invited Grant Spencer to reflect on his involvement with many Monetary Policy Statements over the years (going back to the very first one in April 1990 –  which I drafted most of, and Grant was my boss).    He offered only two brief thoughts: flexible inflation targeting had proved to be a good framework, and the (slightly cryptic) patience is a virtue.   I wasn’t sure if that latter observation was as close as we were going to get –  from a thoroughly decent senior public servant –  to an acknowledgement that the 2014 tightening cycle, driven by a combination of conviction that inflation was about to take off (above 2 per cent) and repeated talk of “policy normalisation”  –  had been a mistake.

If so, we should be grateful, but it is still important that the Bank shouldn’t be so paralysed by its previous mistake –  an inevitable human tendency –  that it fails to do its job.  It is increasingly difficult to see why we should confidently expect core inflation to get back to 2 per cent on current policy, or what harm might be done from signalling more strongly the possibility of a lower OCR.  After all, as both the “acting Governor” and the chief economist said, the aim isn’t to be exactly at 2 per cent each and every quarter, and if anything a period of inflation a bit above 2 per cent –  not sought, but if it happened –  might actually help to rebuild confidence that the target really was centred on 2 per cent, not operating as a ceiling of 2 per cent.

Handling failed insurers

Last week I wrote a post prompted by the New Zealand Initiative’s passing suggestion that something like an OBR scheme might be established to handle failed (large?) insurance companies.  The New Zealand Initiative didn’t like the AMI bailout (neither did I) and the suggestion that an OBR option might be considered seemed to be mainly a way of helping ensure that losses lay where they fell, not with taxpayers generally.

I didn’t think that the OBR type of scheme –  focused on keeping the failed institution open –  made a lot of sense for insurers, but recognised the probable political imperative to limit the losses of at least some of those caught in a failure.   Deposit insurance is the typical, and sensible, response to that imperative in the case of bank failure, and some sort of limited policyholder compensation scheme could make sense for insurer failures.

I ended that post this way

In sum, I probably would favour a limited policyholder compensation scheme, funded by policyholders, at least for residential insurance policies. It isn’t a first-best policy, but in a second or third best world it seems better, and fairer, than generalised bailouts such as the AMI one.  But an OBR-type arrangement doesn’t seem appropriate for the general insurance industry –  it wouldn’t speed final resolution of claims, wouldn’t focus protections where the greatest public sympathies are likely to be.     If it didn’t involve the sort of panoply of new controls and provisions the bank OBR system does, it just doesn’t seem well-tailored as a general response.

I wouldn’t have come back to the topic except that I just noticed a column on the idea of an insurance OBR from a columnist –  Fairfax’s Rob Stock –  who I usually have quite a bit of time for.   And there were a couple of aspects of that column that seemed quite misleading.   Here were some of the concluding sentences.

Taxpayer will end up spending about $1.5 billion rebuilding AMI policyholders’ houses.

That’s a lot of money, and economics think tank The New Zealand Initiative thinks we should consider an OBR for insurers.

In the case of AMI, which had around half a million customers with 1.2 million policies, that’d be around $1230 per policy.

Less OBR than OMG to people already in a financial hole as a result of their homes and belongings being damaged by the earthquakes.

It’s one thing giving bank depositors a haircut. It’s quite another putting families in dire financial straits into deeper holes.

 

Big general insurers fail after natural disasters, which really isn’t the time Kiwis will feel comfortable asking victims to stump up more money.

It also fails the fairness test.

How was any ordinary householder supposed to recognise AMI’s lack of reinsurance if expert regulators didn’t?

But…..losses don’t fall in all policyholders (and certainly not evenly –  someone with a $10000 contents policy, and another person with a $5 million house policy) but on the people who had claims outstanding at the point the insurer fails.   That is the parallel to the bank situation –  in a bank failure, all depositors have a claim on the bank, but in an insurance failure most policyholders have only contingent claims –  if something had gone wrong which could be claimed for under the terms of their own policy.  For some it had gone wrong at the point of failure –  eg a house severely damaged in an earthquake.  Other policyholders –  having paid their premium – will simply walk away from their worthless policies and look for alternative cover elsewhere.

I’m not sure quite how many claims AMI had outstanding at the point of failure, but I assume that the reported Southern Response numbers are a close approximation.    Their website suggests around 30000 claims.     If the bailout cost really does come to $1.5 billion, that would be an average loss –  for those with outstanding claims –  of around $50000 (the median losses would presumably be a bit lower).   That –  not Stock’s $1230 –  is the nature of the political problem: relatively heavy losses on a middling number of people.

Revealed preference –  the AMI experience –  suggests that governments are likely to jump in when a failure of this particular sort occurs (a lot of claims outstanding at point of failure, and the association with a natural disaster).  It might be better, even fairer in some respects, if they didn’t, but they almost certainly will.   (Why might it be fairer not to intervene?   Because there are all sorts of ways in which people experience unexpected, and not really foreseeable, shocks to their wealth and expected lifetime income.    There is serious illness for example, a cheating spouse and the end of a marriage, unemployment, or structural decline for a region of the country one had spent one’s life in.  In many cases, those losses will amount to materially more than the typical loss in, say, the AMI case, and generally we run a welfare system as a safety net against extreme poverty, rather than attempting to compensate people for the unexpected, perhaps uninsurable, losses.)

But if, dwelling in the world of the second-best, governments are likely to respond sympathetically to another failure like that of AMI –  which might well be 100 years away, or never happen –  we should be trying to devise schemes that channel, and limit the cost of, that political sympathy.    That is the point of suggestions like deposit insurance or –  in this case –  policyholder compensation schemes: the protection can be pre-funded, paid for by policyholders receiving the cover, and it can be limited (capped, to provide full or near-full cover to people at the bottom, and little to people insuring multi-million dollar houses or commercial buildings).    General bailouts –  like that of AMI, which Stock seems to have favoured –  are indiscriminate and unfunded.    Even without a pre-established scheme, a general bailout wasn’t the only option in the AMI case.

Stock’s final line also caught my eye

How was any ordinary householder supposed to recognise AMI’s lack of reinsurance if expert regulators didn’t?

Which might be a reasonable argument, except that………in February 2011 there were no “expert regulators”, or even inexpert ones, assessing AMI’s solvency, reinsurance etc.    The Insurance (Prudential Supervision) Act received the Royal Assent just a few days after the first Canterbury earthquakes in September 2010, and the Act came into effect in stages over the following three years.   There had never been prudential supervision of insurers in New Zealand –  and actually, there hadn’t been many failures either (as I understand it, one significant insurance company failure –  and that unrelated to a natural disaster –  in the previous 100 years).

Does that absolve policyholders of all responsibility?  No, I don’t think so.  I gather AMI was one of the cheaper options in the market, and everyone knows that that in itself can be a warning signal.  It was also a NZ-only firm, without any sort of parental support.  And markets develop mechanisms to monitor the strength of firms operating in all sorts of markets.  I’m not unsympathetic to people near the bottom of the heap who might have been caught up in the AMI failure, but the mere fact of the failure doesn’t make a compelling case for a general bailout.

What perhaps concerns me a little more is that (unlike 2010/11) policyholders do now have reason to think that “expert regulators” are monitoring and limiting risks on their behalf.  But I recall a discussion at the Reserve Bank’s Financial System Oversight Committee when the solvency standards for insurers were being put in place.  I asked the experts whether the proposed new standards would have been demanding enough to have prevented the AMI failure, and I was told that they were not.   After all, I was told, the ground acceleration experienced in Christchurch had been the sort of thing that might be expected every few thousand years, and no prudential regime was designed to prevent all failures.    I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I’m no seismologist.  And so it was sobering to read a few months ago that the November 2016 Kaikoura earthquake had recorded maximum ground acceleration substantially larger than that experienced in Christchurch only a few years earlier.   Fortunately, it didn’t occur close to a major residential or commercial area.

There still seem to be real limits to our understanding of the geology of this country.  Perhaps it raises some real questions about just how insurable earthquake (and associated tsunami) risk really is –  at least at prices that are generally affordable.  The idea of an insurance OBR seems to be ill-targeted, and really just a distraction from the real issues.  But a limited, funded, policyholder compensation scheme in respect of failures associated with residential earthquake (and perhaps volcano/tsunami) losses looks like something the government should be looking into.  Better that than rushed indiscriminate bail-outs when –  very rarely –  failures happen.

Of course, if – or when –  the very worst happens and there is another mega Lake Taupo eruption, what remains of the New Zealand government will have bigger concerns to worry about than the fate of specific insurance policyholders.

The statutory goal for monetary policy

The government has a review of the Reserve Bank Act underway at present.    It is an odd beast.    There is a rushed process going on to review and amend the monetary policy bits of the Act, led by Treasury and assisted to some modest extent by an Independent Expert Advisory Panel –  itself chaired by someone with no experience in monetary policy.   And then there might be a second stage review, to be jointly run by the Treasury and the Reserve Bank, which might –  or might not –  have the same Independent Expert Advisory Panel.  If well-intentioned, it is pretty unsatisfactory: lightly-resourced, potentially giving too much influence to the Reserve Bank itself, and not working from a coherent overview of the Bank as an institution (thus, part of the first stage review is looking at the role of the Bank’s Board as regards monetary policy, without having engaged properly with how the whole organisation should be structured, managed, and held to account, or even looking at the interactions between the Bank’s various functions).  How much better it would have been to have had a proper independent review, looking at all the roles/functions of the Bank at the same time, with a view to legislating next year.    That was, for example, what was done in Norway recently with central banking legislation of similar vintage to our own.    It would also reduce the chances that, with a patch-protecting new Governor, the second stage of the review will just peter out and come to nothing.

There are two main bits to the first stage of the review:

  • amending the statutory goal of monetary policy to add a focus on maximising employment (or minimising unemployment), and
  • introducing a statutory committee, including non-executive members, to make monetary policy decisions.

For the time being, much of what the government says they want to achieve around the first bullet  (the objective for monetary policy) could be done through a new Policy Targets Agreement  –  one needs to be signed before Adrian Orr can formally be appointed as Governor (and thus will be necessary even before Stage 1 reforms can be legislated.  I outlined some suggested wording in a post last year.   Sadly, with the rushed review focused on the Act, there is no sign of any public process looking at the content of the Policy Targets Agreement, even though it is the main policy instrument for short-term macroeconomic management.

But how should the statutory goal be restated?  Since 1989 the key clause of the Reserve Bank Act (section 8) has read as follows

The primary function of the Bank is to formulate and implement monetary policy directed to the economic objective of achieving and maintaining stability in the general level of prices.

And 10 years ago, a revised purpose clause was added to the Act, and around monetary policy this is what it said

The purpose of this Act is to provide for the Reserve Bank of New Zealand, as the central bank, to be responsible for—formulating and implementing monetary policy designed to promote stability in the general level of prices, while recognising the Crown’s right to determine economic policy;

Policy Targets Agreements have to be consistent with section 8 –  ie “achieve and maintain” price stability, not just “promote” it.

The Labour Party, in Opposition and now in government, have offered various takes on what they want to do with the statutory goal without (sensibly enough at this stage) specifying a precise set of words.  Presumably they are serious about taking advice.

When the policy was launched last April the suggestion was to broaden “the objective of the Bank from just price stability to also include a commitment to full employment”.

In the terms of reference for the current review, agreed by Cabinet, the phraseology is as follows

recommend changes to the Act to provide for requiring monetary policy decisionmakers to give due consideration to maximising employment alongside the price stability framework;

The Minister of Finance has also talked about looking to the wording used in the central bank laws of Australia and the United States.

As I’ve outlined here previously, I favour changing the wording of section 8, as much as anything because the current wording does not adequately capture why we have a central bank running discretionary monetary policy.   One doesn’t need such an active central bank to maintain a broadly stable general level of prices; indeed, the introduction of fiat money systems over the last hundred years or so has led to less stability in the general level of prices than prevailed previously.

The existing wording of section 8 was an understandable –  and generally helpful –  reaction to the very poor inflation track record New Zealand (and many other countries) had run from the 1960s onwards.  Inflation has been lower and more stable than it was previously –  although not just because of the change in the Act.  But it still didn’t capture what we really wanted the central bank to do.    Active discretionary monetary policy is really about attempting to manage the business cycle –  and especially to be able to respond aggressively to extreme circumstances –  subject to the constraint of not letting inflation get away on us.    To word it that way doesn’t diminish the significance of keeping inflation in check –  any more than saying that fiscal policy should be managed to meet various government goals, subject to the constraint of not letting debt blow-out.

This way of thinking about active monetary policy is quite consistent with what we learned from the Great Depression –  countries that acted earliest to break the golden fetters rebounded earliest and saw resources (including unemployed people) back in work most quickly.  But, more mundanely, it is also consistent with the way in which inflation targeting central banks have (a) run things, and (b) specified their practical mandates.     Thus, from the earliest days of inflation targeting, there have been numerous events –  notably oil price shocks or indirect tax changes –  where the Bank has been expected to let inflation rise (fall) temporarily away from target, to minimise the output and employment consequences of such shocks  (trying to keep inflation on target in face of a big oil price increase would typically be expected to require inducing a recession).  Policymakers recognised that, actually, avoiding unnecessary surges in unemployment –  or recessions –  was locally more important than keeping inflation at, say, 2 per cent all the time.  But that calculus changes if it looked as though inflation was going to drift permanently higher.     The wording of the current legislation is unhelpful if –  and to the extent – it leaves voters fearing otherwise – that policymakers don’t care about unemployment/employment in its own right.

The other thing worth bearing in mind is that no central bank act –  not even something more specific like a Policy Targets Agreement –  can specify everything about how we want a central bank to run monetary policy.  Circumstances change, and the unexpected combinations of shocks happen.    There was a degree of naivete around that in the early days of the current Act, encapsulated in Don Brash’s unconditional answer to a radio interviewer indicating that he would lose his job if inflation went above 2 per cent (the then top of the target range).   But everyone recognises the limits now.

Thus, it is not possible to sensibly write down –  whether in the Act or the PTA – a numerical objective for “full employment”, “maximum employment” or the like (and the government has repeatedly stated that it has no intention of doing so).  But that doesn’t make it less worthwhile writing such considerations into legislation, requiring the Bank to report against them, and expecting those holding the Bank to account to take serious account of them.   And if even that was thought to be impossible, it might sensibly lead to some reconsideration as to whether having an independent central bank set policy –  rather than just advice on it –  was really the best way to organise things.

But how best to word things?  There have been suggestions from the Minister of looking at the specific wording in the Australian and US legislation.  I don’t think that will –  or should –  get people far.   Here is what I had to say on those options from an earlier post.

The Reserve Bank of Australia was set up in 1959, and the section of its legislation relating to monetary policy goals and objectives was in the original.

It is the duty of the Reserve Bank Board, within the limits of its powers, to ensure that the monetary and banking policy of the Bank is directed to the greatest advantage of the people of Australia and that the powers of the Bank … are exercised in such a manner as, in the opinion of the Reserve Bank Board, will best contribute to:

a.  the stability of the currency of Australia;

b.  the maintenance of full employment in Australia; and

c.  the economic prosperity and welfare of the people of Australia.

In 1959, Australia –  like most countries –  had a fixed exchange rate, so that “the stability of the currency of Australia” meant the external value of the currency.  The provision has since been re-interpreted, and as is now taken as meaning the domestic value of the currency (ie domestic price stability), but no one would write the provision that way today.

This wording is also legitimately subject to the criticism made by those who disagree with what Labour is proposing.  It makes no attempt to distinguish between the short and long run, and thus does not recognise that monetary policy cannot affect the longer-term rate of unemployment at all.    The Australian legislation also has nothing like a Policy Targets Agreement (the document that resembles a PTA is informal and non-binding) and provides far too much discretion to the Reserve Bank.  That discretion has not been blatantly misused in recent decades –  a period when the actual conduct of monetary policy in New Zealand and Australia have mostly been quite similar –  but the legislation should not provide any sort of model for New Zealand as to how best to specify the goals of monetary policy.

What of the United States?   Much is made of the “dual mandate” that has guided the Federal Reserve over the decades.   But even that, mostly quite sensible, conduct of policy rests on a rather slender and unreliable legislative footing.    The statutory objectives in the Federal Reserve Act were set out in 1977, around the high tide of monetarism, and read as follows:

Section 2A. Monetary policy objectives

The Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System and the Federal Open Market Committee shall maintain long run growth of the monetary and credit aggregates commensurate with the economy’s long run potential to increase production, so as to promote effectively the goals of maximum employment, stable prices, and moderate long-term interest rates.

In other words, the Fed is actually mandated to pursue long-term money and credit growth targets, in the belief that doing so will promote (a) maximum employment, (b) stable prices, and (c) moderate long-term interest rates.  Again, no one would write the statutory objectives that way today, and the formulation should offer little or no guide to anyone looking to overhaul the objectives of our own central bank.  In practice, of course, the Federal Reserve works around the statutory formulation, rarely citing it directly.  I think they way they run monetary policy in practice is quite sensible –  and typically not that different to the way the Reserve Bank here has often run policy –  but I bet they wish Congress had written the goal a bit differently in 1977.

In an ideal world, both the Australian and US statutory provisions would be updated and amended.  It isn’t desirable to have powerful autonomous agencies working under the mandates that don’t reflect today’s understandings of policy, leading those agencies to creatively reinvent their own mandates.  Those reinventions probably lead to better policy in the short-run, but the process of doing so undermines confidence in the role of legislatures in mandating, and holding to account, such agencies.

So we need some fresh wording, and as far as I can tell there are no excellent models abroad to look to.

My strong preference would be to focus any new wording on minimising unemployment (or concepts like “full employment” –  a traditional Labour Party focus) rather than on maximising employment.       The concept of unemployment is about avoiding a situation where people who want to work, and are available for work, are unable to find work.   A simple focus on employment suggests that the more employment there is the better, whether people want (or need) to work or not.     I’ve seen political leaders boast that New Zealand has one of the highest employment rates in the advanced world, but to my mind at least that isn’t a sensible or legitimate boast –  or even a matter of public policy interest (speaking as someone who is, entirely voluntarily, not in the paid workforce).  It has Stakhanovite connotations.  By contrast, situations where people who want work, need work, can’t find work should be a matter of real public policy concern, and it is also something that  – in some but not all circumstances –  monetary policy can do something about, since most of the fluctuations in unemployment are a response to demand shocks.

So I’d suggest wording along these lines

“the goal of monetary policy shall be to promote the lowest rate of unemployment consistent with maintaining a low and stable rate of inflation on average over time”

But that might be too stark for some, too radical for others.   Another way of saying much the same thing, while keeping low inflation first in sequence, might be this sort of wording

“the goal of monetary policy is to maintain a low and stable rate of inflation on average over time. In pursuing this goal. the Bank shall do all that can be achieved by monetary policy to avoid unnecessary deviations of the unemployment rate from the rate that would resulting from those regulatory, structural, and demographic factors beyond the influence of monetary policy”

(You will note that I’ve suggested deleting altogether both the suggestion that monetary policy is the “primary function” of the Bank –  these days it is one of two prime functions –  and the references to a “stable general level of prices”.  The Bank has never targeted the price level, and the price level is not stable.    Some argue for a price level focus rather than an inflation rate focus, but there is no easy way for the statute to encompass both options without using even vaguer language.    Arguably, a “low and stable inflation” rate encompasses options for price level targeting, while “a stable general level of prices” does not really encompass a price level growing on average at up to 3 per cent per annum. )

Of course, the new wording for section 8 –  whichever formulation is chosen –  does not (or should not) stand alone.  Appropriate wording for a Policy Targets Agreement would still need to be found.  I’d have no problem with a continuing focus on a 2 per cent target midpoint –  as some sort of medium-term reference point for people to use in their planning.  But there should be a stronger emphasis in the Policy Targets Agreement on the cyclical management responsibilities –  including, in particular, preparation for the next big downturn (when, at present, monetary policy looks to be quite severely constrained in limiting the output and unemployment consequences).

And, as I’ve suggested previously, in both the Policy Targets Agreement, and in section 15 of the Act (governing Monetary Policy Statements) it would be appropriate to add some explicit wording requiring the Bank to report periodically on its estimates of the long-run sustainable rate of unemployment (and/or the NAIRU), on to report regularly on the relationship between actual unemployment rates and those estimates, and one what the Bank is, and is not, able to do about the gap.  These reports would serve several functions:

  • they would help focus the Bank’s attention (policy and research/analysis) on its raison d’etre  –  doing what it can to avoid unnecessary excess capacity, and
  • they would provide a formal and routine vehicle for articulating the limits of monetary policy.  It won’t, for example, be sensible to focus heavily on the unemployment rate for the time being if inflation really looks to be moving permanently much higher, but even in those circumstances, it is useful to require policymakers to contribute to the conversation about the appropriate balance of short-term focus –  what risks can and should be run (or not) and at what cost, even when everyone recognises the constraint that medium-term inflation needs to be kept in check.

One might even provide for the Bank to offer periodic advice to the Minister of Finance on what measures could contribute to lowering the structural rate of unemployment.    There are risks in such a provision –  many of those sorts of choices are almoat inherently political –  but again they help ensure a recognition that if monetary policy can, and should, do a lot about cyclical unemployment, it is unable to do anything much to alter the baseline structural rates of unemployment, which are mostly about political and social choices.

Those opposing change will emphasise the risks aroud these sorts of statutory changes.  And those risks need to be taken seriously.     But it is hardly as if the status quo is without risks or problems –  after all, we’ve spent the entire decade so far with the unemployment rate above domestic estimates of a NAIRU, and if that is no cost to most economists and policymakers, it has been for many ordinary New Zealanders.

Precisely because one can’t write down all that one wants a discretionary central bank to do with monetary policy in all conceivable circumstances, any particularly specification of the goal will be less than ideal.     So whatever the precise specification the government chooses, it is at least as important that an intelligent conversation be maintained about what monetary policy can and can’t do – not just in general, but in particular circumstances –  and that the Reserve Bank be encouraged (and compelled by law where appropropriate) to maintain an open and transparent approach, not just to the final fruit of its deliberations, but to its research, analysis, and the genuine uncertainty everyone faces in making sense of economic developments and the outlook for resource utilisation and inflation.

 

Inflation is the Reserve Bank’s responsibility

Late last week Statistics New Zealand released the latest quarterly inflation numbers.  For years, the Reserve Bank –  explicitly charged with the job –  has told us inflation is heading back to settle around two per cent.  If anything, most market economists have been even more of that view –  typically their forecasts of inflation and/or interest rates have been higher than those of the central bank. Indeed, on the very morning the CPI numbers were to be released one prominent market economist was reported in the Herald as picking that the Reserve Bank would be –  indeed, should be – raising the OCR as early as July.

But for years, the Reserve Bank has been consistently wrong.  The year to December 2009 was the last time their preferred measure of core inflation was at 2 per cent, the midpoint of the target range (a goal explicitly highlighted in the 2012 to 2017 Policy Targets Agreement).  And for six full years now that sectoral factor model measure of annual inflation has been between 1.3 and 1.5 per cent.  There is almost nothing in any New Zealand data suggesting any sort of sustained lift in New Zealand’s inflation rate.

There isn’t much in the rest of the advanced world taken as a whole either.  Here is the median rate of CPI (ex food and energy) inflation for the OECD countries/regions with their own currencies.

CPI ex OECD jan 18

There is plenty of wishful thinking –  among some central bankers, and some market economists –  but not much sign of more inflation, even in the handful of countries where central banks have raised interest rates a bit.

Led by the Reserve Bank, a lot of the commentary in New Zealand would have you believe that if there is an issue with low inflation in New Zealand, it is all about tradables inflation –  ie inflation in things we import, or produce in competition with the rest of the world.    The implication often is that if we just focus on domestically-generated inflation, there isn’t an issue.   But mostly that looks like an attempt to muddy the water and avoid responsibility.

Here is one way of looking at that issue.   In calculating the sectoral factor model of core inflation, the Reserve Bank actually calculates (and now publishes) separate estimates of tradables and non-tradables core inflation (that’s why it is called the “sectoral” model).   In this chart, I’ve shown both those measures and –  the bars –  the gap between the two of them (non-tradables less tradables).

sec fac model jan 18

The gap between the two series –  the extent to which core non-tradables inflation exceeds core tradables inflation –  is actually a bit less than average at present.

In looking at the chart, there are perhaps two other things worth bearing in mind.

  • the core tradables measure is influenced by developments in the exchange rate (as one would expect) –  see the surges in 2001 and 2009 after the sharp falls in the exchange rate, and the dip in 2004 after the sharp rise.  It is a reminder that although we can’t control world prices for the stuff we import, New Zealand dollar tradables inflation is directly influenced by New Zealand monetary policy choices (as they affect the exchange rate), and
  • the gap between core non-tradables and core tradables is somewhat cyclical.  The peaks in the gap coincide with the periods of sustained pressure on domestic resources (as measured, eg, by the Reserve Bank’s output gap estimates).    Perhaps unsurprisingly when, as at present, output gap estimates are around zero, and the unemployment rate has still been above NAIRU estimates, the gap between the two sectors’ core inflation rates is pretty subdued.

And, of course, there is little or no sign in the chart of any sustained pick-up in core non-tradables inflation, the bit most directly responsive to New Zealand economic circumstances.  And don’t be fooled by the fact that core non-tradables is itself above 2 per cent:  non-tradables typically inflate faster than tradables, and if overall core inflation is to be kept near 2 per cent, core non-tradables inflation would typically have to be around 3 per cent.   It isn’t, and hasn’t been for years.

This chart has another of my favourite series: SNZ’s measure of non-tradables excluding government charges and cigarettes and tobacco (now heavily affected by rising taxes).

dom inflation

I’ve also shown the “purchase of housing” component of non-tradables inflation –  largely construction costs.    Non-tradables inflation, ex taxes and government charges, did pick up a bit (as one might expect) when construction cost inflation was surging (back in 2013, and in 2015/16), but (a) the peaks seem to have passed, and (b) this particularly proxy for core non-tradables inflation is now rising at less than 2 per cent per annum.

Finally, there isn’t much sign that people are really expecting inflation will soon settle back to, and stay around, 2 per cent.   The Reserve Bank’s Survey of Expectations will be out next week, and it will be interesting to see what respondents write down for their expectations five to ten years ahead (with a new government and a new Governor, but an uncertain mandate and unknown committee still to come).    When I filled in the form the other day, I wrote down something like 1.75 per cent.  But perhaps I was too optimistic?    There are, after all, market transactions going on where people take a view –  actual or implicit –  on what average future inflation will be, as people buy and sell government bonds (conventional and inflation indexed).

The gap between indexed and conventional bonds isn’t a perfectly clean read on inflation expectations –  but then neither is any other measure.   But here is what the data shows, using the Reserve Bank’s data for 10 year conventional government bonds (a rolling horizon) and the indexed bonds maturing in 2025 and 2030.

iib breakevens jan 18

At the start of the period, the 2025 bond was nearer to a 10 year maturity, while these days the 2030 bond is nearer 10 years.  And whereas implied expectations of average future inflation were close to 2 per cent four years ago (the start of the chart), now they seem to be only around 1.35 per cent.    As a reminder, the Reserve Bank’s sectoral core factor model measure of inflation is currently 1.4 per cent, and has been in a range of 1.3 to 1.5 per cent for years.     As expectations, the implied market numbers don’t seem irrational at all.

Why does it all matter?  After all, 1.5 per cent isn’t really that far from 2 per cent.  I think there are three reasons:

  • first, the Reserve Bank undertook to keep (core) inflation near 2 per cent, and not only hasn’t done so, but doesn’t have a compelling explanation for their failure, in the area they are supposed to be most expert in,
  • second, the lost opportunities.   Economic growth over the period since the last recession hasn’t been particularly strong, and the unemployment rate has been consistently above credible estimates of a “natural” non-inflationary level.   Monetary policy that had been run a little looser not only would have delivered inflation nearer target, but would have allowed some (modest) real economic gains as well,  In particularly, some of those unemployed –  who most monetary policy commentators seem not to care much about –  would have been back in jobs sooner, and even now the unemployment rate could have been lower, and
  • third, when the next recession comes many countries are going to be in considerable difficulty because they can’t cut interest rates very much at all.    Our problem isn’t as severe as that in some countries, but it is hardly a trivial issue either (given that the Reserve Bank cut the OCR by 575 basis points in the last recession).  The best contribution the Reserve Bank can make to miminising that threat is to get inflation back up to –  perhaps even a bit above –  target, and keep it there.  By doing so, expectations of higher inflation will underpin higher average nominal interest rates.

Much of the problem in recent years has been that the Reserve Bank has been operating with the wrong model.    In particular, we’ve heard repeated claims from the (previous) Governor that monetary policy was extraordinarily stimulatory, and repeated talk about “normalising” interest rates.  How much better if our Reserve Bank –  with more policy flexibility than many of their northern hemisphere peers –  had been willing to declare themselves genuinely agnostic about what was going on with neutral or “natural” interest rates, and been willing to focus –  with real intent –  on doing whatever it takes to get and keep core inflation back to, or perhaps a little above, 2 per cent.     Caution might have been excusable in the immediate aftermath of the last recession, but after years of persistently low domestic inflation, it looks like indifference –  which really should be inexcusable.

I saw the other day an article which seemed to suggest that the new Governor’s job (and that of his forthcoming statutory committee) just got harder.  To the contrary, it is even clearer now than it was a few quarters ago that if it is time for anything, it is time at last to take a few risks on getting, and keeping, core inflation back to target.

 

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.

 

A curious suggestion

There was a curious suggestion in the New Zealand Initiative’s new report on the handling of the Canterbury earthquakes and possible ways ahead.  Almost in passing they suggested that perhaps one way of handling failed insurance companies might be to consider an insurance company version of the Open Bank Resolution (OBR) scheme, that now sits in the toolkit as one (not terribly credible, in my view) instrument that might be used by a government to help manage a bank failure.

I think I see what motivated the suggestion.  After the February 2011 quake, AMI failed, but instead of being allowed to close, with losses lying where they fell, the government (backed by –  questionable –  advice from The Treasury and the Reserve Bank) launched a bail-out.  No policyholder lost anything.   It set a terrible precedent –  and wasn’t cheap either (final costs as yet unknown).   And the OBR scheme had been motivated by a recognition that governments would probably prove relucant to let major banks close –  how, for example, would solvent firms make their payrolls next week if their bank, relied on for overdraft facilities, suddenly closed?   Rather than jump straight to a bailout –  which would be expensive, send terrible signals about future distress episodes, but which would keep the lights on and the doors open – the OBR option was designed to allow a failed bank to remain open without any direct injection of public money.  Losses would rest with creditors and depositors, but the payments system and the information-intensive business of business credit needn’t be directly disrupted.

As I say, the New Zealand Initiative people really only mentioned the issue in passing, but interest.co.nz picked up the reference and devoted a substantial article to it, including an interview with my former Reserve Bank colleague Geof Mortlock.  So it is worth giving more space to my scepticism than the NZI reference alone would typically warrant.

In doing so, it is worth stressing that:

  • banks and insurance companies are two quite different sorts of beasts,
  • keeping a failed company open and operational is, at least in concept, a very different issue than protecting depositors or policyholders once a failure has happened.

Most of rely on banks being there almost every day.  Whether we rely more on cash –  and thus use an ATM every week or so –  or mostly on direct electronic payments, we count on our bank being there.  Incomes flow into bank accounts –  be it wages, welfare payments, or whatever –  and we count on being able to use those accounts to make routine payments, including things as elemental as food.   Businesses often rely on bank credit to make routine payments, including such regular commitments as wages or materials.  For small businesses in particular, those credit relationships are not easily or quickly re-established (and perhaps especially not if a bank with a quarter of all the country’s small businesses failed).

So there is quite a plausible case that there is some wider public interest in keeping the doors of a (large) failed transactions bank –  Lehmans might be quite a different issue –  open, even if the bank has been badly managed enough to have failed.   There is a basic utility dimension to some of the core functionality.   That is the logic of OBR –  creditors (including depositors) should take losses, if losses there are, but keep the doors open and the payments flowing (even if the available credit balances are less than depositors had been counting on).

What about insurance companies?  I’m sure most of you are like me.  You pay your bills each year, and hope never to have any other contact with an insurance company ever.  And even when bad things do happen, there (a) isn’t the same immediacy as about buying today’s groceries, and (b) a bad thing happening today isn’t generally followed by another bad thing happening tomorrow.

And banks are prone to runs in ways that insurance companies aren’t.  They are just different types of contracts, for different types of products/services.

But focusing on insurance companies, it is worth unpicking the two possible (decent, economic) reasons why people might make a case for keeping a failed insurance company open, even with writedowns of policyholder claims.

The first relates to the immediate interests of people with claims outstanding at the point of failure.  Typically that will be quite a small number of people  (in which case there is no real public policy interest at all, and the failed company can simply be allowed to close, as was done with one other small insurer after the Christchurch quakes), but not always.   AMI was brought low by one specific set of events –  the Canterbury quakes –  affecting quite a large chunk of their policyholders.    Had AMI simply been left to fail, and normal commercial procedures taken their course, what would have happened?  The policyholders with claims outstanding at point of failure (including those with houses damaged/destroyed in the quakes) had no particular interest in AMI continuing to trade as a going concern.  They just wanted their claims settled, to the maximum extent possible.  Wouldn’t a liquidator have needed to work out how large those claims actually were –  an issue still in dispute in some cases –  and then made a final division of the assets (including reinsurance) assets of the firm among all the creditors, including policyholders with claims?

Policyholders with outstanding claims had two interests:

  • being paid out (whether in cash, or new home –  under replacement policies) in full, or as near as possible, and
  • being paid out expeditiously.

Liquidation is unlikely to bring about either, but neither is an OBR-type of instrument.  The whole point of an OBR is that losses fall on policyholders with outstanding claims, and a statutory manager operating under an OBR faces much the same issues as a liquidator –  needing to know the final value of all outstanding claims before final payments can be made and (thus) losses allocated.

So the interests of policyholders with outstanding claims can either be met by a bailout –  often at considerable direct Crown expense, and rather bad market discipline incentives (although the role of reinsurance might mean those effects as less bad for banks) –  or by a policyholder protection scheme, something similar in conception to deposit insurance.  This is an option canvassed in the interest.co.nz article (and which I also favour, as a second best).   Such a scheme –  funded by levies on policyholders with cover –  could be rather better tailored.

As I’ve noted, one reason OBR will probably never be used is because losses will fall as heavily on “innocent” grannies as on sophisticated offshore wholesale investors.   There is public sympathy for one group, but not the other.  Deposit insurance allows that distinction to be drawn.     No doubt the same goes for the creditors of insurance companies.  There is likely to be a great deal of sympathy for a poor family with a modest dwelling caught up in an extreme series of earthquakes –  and an unwillingness to see them face, say, a one-third write-down in the value of their claim.   But probably no one (other those directly involved) cares greatly if a family trust with a $4 million house in Fendalton and an expensive holiday home in Akaroa finds that, after the failure of their insurer, they can afford to spend only $2 million on a new house.   It was one of the offensive things about the AMI bailout that everyone –  rich and poor, sophisticated and not –  was bailed out in full.

And so I probably would favour some sort of statutory policyholder protection scheme.  I’d probably limit it to house insurance, fund it through levies on policyholders, and perhaps payout 100 per cent of claims for the first, say, $500000 of a claim, 50 per cent of the next $500000, and then leave people to the market for sums beyond that.   It would meet most of the probable and inevitable political demand, if and when a major insurer fails amid a claims-surge such as a natural disaster, would facilitate early settlement of a major chunk of any residential claim, and would keep separate the protection of small policyholders from the managment of the failed business itself.

But perhaps the argument for something like an “insurance OBR” is stronger on another count, which has nothing to do with those with outstanding claims on the failing company at the point of failure.     When an insurance company fails, your existing insurance policies with that company are no good.   You need to take steps, perhaps quite quickly, to replace the insurance.

Sometimes that will be easy enough.  If a small contents insurer failed today, out of the blue, most customers would have no great difficulty getting a new policy in place quite quickly.    But in other circumstances it could be quite difficult.  The failed insurer might have specialised in a particular type of insurance which few other companies offered (this was an issue when the big Australian insurer HIH failed).

In a domestic New Zealand context, there seem to be two sorts of plausible problems.  The first is that one company –  IAG, through its various labels –  has around 50 per cent of the general insurance market in New Zealand.   As the interest.co.nz articles notes, even the Reserve Bank has expressed some unease about this concentration.   Should IAG fail, it might be very difficult for customers to replace their policies quickly with other companies.   “Might” because other companies, including abroad, might be keen to pick up the customer base, especially if the failure resulted from a well-understood, limited, idiosyncratic event.     But even if this is an issue, it looks like an issue that should have been able to be taken into account when the various takeovers that led to IAG’s dominant position were approved.

Perhaps more of an issue is if we were to see a repeat of a large failure associated with a series of destructive earthquakes.  In the wake of the Canterbury earthquakes –  and indeed, after Kaikoura in 2016 –  people kept their existing house cover with their existing insurer, but insurers were very reluctant (typically simply refused) to extend cover.  Even alterations to an existing dwelling didn’t get covered, and it was almost possible for a new purchaser to get insurance.  It was quite rational behaviour by the insurers –  risk (of further quakes) around the affected locality, and unpriceable uncertainty, had increased a lot.  That complicated the house sales market for a time –  an inconvenience but not the end of the world.  But imagine that a large company simply failed, leaving most of their customers needing to replace their policies immediately (from personal prudence as well, typically, as from a requirement of a mortgage lender).   There would simply be no takers, at least in affected regions.  I don’t suppose banks would suddenly start selling up customers caught temporarily without insurance, but one can’t deny that there would be an issue.  Politicians would respond.

Something like an OBR for general insurance might be a remedy to that particular problem.  The failed company would remain open, and presumably existing policies would remain in place.

But is it worth it?  Personally, I’m a bit sceptical.  There is no widespread public interest in the continuity of insurance companies across all products.  Housing may well be different –  and would no doubt be seen so politically.  But in the event of a failure, in circumstances akin to AMI (natural disaster with ongoing extreme uncertainty) but in which the insurer was actually allowed to close, might not a less bad, less intrusive, intervention be something like an ad hoc intervention in which the Crown took over the existing residential insurance policies for six months after the failure, in the expectation that after six months policyholders would have been once again able to make private insurance arrangements.   It doesn’t look like a scheme that would materially undermine market discipline –  those with outstanding claims at point of failure would still be exposed –  but might recognise that in certain rare circumstances markets can simply cease to function for a time.  And still allow the salutary discipline of a failed entity passing into history.

In sum, I probably would favour a limited policyholder compensation scheme, funded by policyholders, at least for residential insurance policies. It isn’t a first-best policy, but in a second or third best world it seems better, and fairer, than generalised bailouts such as the AMI one.  But an OBR-type arrangement doesn’t seem appropriate for the general insurance industry –  it wouldn’t speed final resolution of claims, wouldn’t focus protections where the greatest public sympathies are likely to be.     If it didn’t involve the sort of panoply of new controls and provisions the bank OBR system does, it just doesn’t seem well-tailored as a general response.

 

 

Land use regulations matter

Most local councils don’t employ economists –  or at least not ones we hear of.  The Auckland Council does have an economics unit, and the previous incumbent did some interesting and stimulating work.

But yesterday on interest.co.nz there appeared an article by two of the Auckland Council’s economists which argued, so the headline proclaimed, that “evidence from across NZ supports conclusion that land use regulation is unlikely to be the main culprit for house price rises”.   They even had an estimated empirical model in an attempt to back their claim.

But, frankly, it looks like an attempt to play distraction, and shift responsibility from their employer (and other local governments around the country).   And it is as if this is the very first time they had come to the subject and were, thus, unaware of the large number of thriving growing cities in the US with house price to income ratios not much more than a third of those in Auckland or Tauranga.

This is the centrepiece of the article

martin-norman-jan-18-2

Which might look superficially fine, at least until one stops to think about what is going on here.

Firstly, it appears to be an odd model, in that they appear to be explaining changes in nominal house prices, but without any explanatory variables like general prices or wages.  Over the best part of a decade, one might expect nominal house prices to rise by around 20 per cent as general costs and prices rose.   Perhaps they’ve estimated the model in real terms, but there is no suggestion in the article that they have done so.

Secondly, all else equal, lower real interest rates might indeed tend to raise the value of an asset in fixed supply.  But, on the one hand, this proposition doesn’t engage at all with the reasons why real interest rates might have fallen.  If, for example, expected future income growth has fallen at the same time – a part of the story in most explanations of the last decade –  any such asset price effect will be greatly weakened.   And, on the other hand, in a well-functioning housing and land market, the only fixed factor here is unimproved land.   And absent land-use restrictions, unimproved land in most places –  even most parts of a city –  simply isn’t worth much.  Perhaps you might think of $50000 per hectare for good rural land.    You could see long-term real interest rates fall 300 basis points (more than we’ve actually experienced), with no changes in future income expectations, and it still wouldn’t make that much difference to the free-market price of unimproved land (and the component of that used in a typical suburban dwelling).

Third, what about population increases?   Auckland (and Hamilton and Tauranga) have had a lot of population growth –  indeed, over decades Auckland has had one of the fastest population growth rates of any largest city in an OECD country.  And when regulatory obstacles –  land, consenting/construction or whatever –  get in the way then shocks to population will boost house prices.  There are regular population estimates published, which are easy to drop into a model.  And, no doubt, had Auckland’s population growth rate been half the actual rate, house and land prices would be somewhat lower.   But all this simply ignores the point –  the insight we really get from that swathe of US cities, (as well, actually, as from basic theory) – that population growth alone makes little or no sustained difference to house prices when the land and construction markets are free to work effectively.  So ascribing responsibility for house price increases to population growth is largely just cover for the regulatory failures of central and local government.

As a reminder, in fairly substantial US cities –  with growing populations –  we find median house (including land) prices of around NZ$250000 to $300000   (from the Demographia report: Des Moines US$198000, Louisville US$176000, Omaha $179000).

Noting that across local authority regions places with larger population growth rates have tended to have higher house price inflation, the Auckland City economists attempt to cover themselves this way

To point the finger at land use regulation would imply that all the areas with the largest population increases have the worst land use regulations and those with the smallest gains have the best regulations.

But that simply doesn’t follow.  Of course, it is often the interaction between population pressures and land-use restrictions that matters in determining what happens to prices.  And it is quite plausible that places with the fastest population growth might even have some of the less worse land-use restrictions, but those restrictions are simply placed under more pressure.  Land-use restriction is, to some extent, endogenous.

As the end of their article approaches, they argue that

Council, the Reserve Bank and the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment have all estimated Auckland’s housing shortfall at between 43,000 and 55,000 and growing. The Auckland Unitary Plan allows for up to one million potential new dwellings. Yet the plan was implemented a year ago, and there is no evidence of decreasing land prices.

Put another way: If having already zoned to develop 20 times the current housing shortfall is not bringing land prices down at all, can land use regulation in Auckland be the major cause of high house prices?

As I’ve noted here previously, those estimates of a “housing shortfall” are almost meaningless.   In the Auckland market as it stands, given the regulatory and other features, effective supply and effective demand appear to be in more–or-less balance.  What makes me say that?  The fact that prices haven’t moved much for a year or more.     No doubt there would be demand for many more houses if the price of land were lower, but at current land prices –  regulated and thus artificially scarce –  effective demand seems to be largely sated.

And what of the argument that “we’ve done the Unitary Plan and prices aren’t coming down, so the problem can’t be land regulation”?   Well, yes, of course it can.  If anything, given the manifestly obscene prices people face for land in  or around Auckland, Auckland Council officials (and their political masters) should be looking at the failure of land prices to fall back and concluding that their latest planners’ vision had failed.   It is all very well to talk of the potential for a million more houses, but these are the sorts of lines local authorities have run for a long time –  I recall councils running these lines when the 2025 Taskforce was looking at these issues.   I haven’t looked into the “million house claim” in any depth, but as I understand it, much of this potential is about the possibility of increased density on properties that the existing owners are simply never going to sell (they like living in their existing house/location).   There was probably a lot of theoretical capacity before the Unitary Plan, and of course there has been a lot more population pressure in recent years.

And the bigger issue is that when Council planners and politicians deem that certain places can be built on and others can’t etc etc, there isn’t much of the market at work.  A well-functioning land market would be one in which developers and land owners on the fringes of growing cities were in active competition with each other as to which could supply new sections and new homes more effectively, and where those options in turn competed with realistic options for increased density (according to the tastes/incomes of potential purchasers, not the whims and preferences of officials and politicians).     In a competitive market, holding costs are quite substantial –  not so where regulation rewards “land-banking” –  rewarding bringing land to market early.

The Auckland Council economists’ final line is cute in a way

In the case of Auckland at least, the answer is simple: You can’t live in a resource consent. It is because not enough houses are being built fast enough (for a range of reasons), rather than just the technical availability of developable land, that is keeping prices up. Land may be resource consented for development, but until houses are actually built on it, a premium will be placed on houses that are available.

And, of course, one can’t live in a consent, and we know from other work that the net addition to the housing stock in Auckland has been well less than the number of consents issued for various reasons (including that densification often loses existing houses).  But the point isn’t really relevant to the claim the economists are trying to rebut.

I did a brief post last year on one small example of undeveloped land on the fringes of Auckland –  property at Dairy Flat, still some years from actual development –  where various plots were selling at an average of $1.266 million per hectare.   When that sort of land –  with no prospect of a house on it for the next few years –   is still that expensive –  land which for rural purposes might be worth $30000 per hectare –  we know there is still something very wrong with land use regulation as it is being applied in Auckland.  If one looked, I can only assume we’d find similar examples around Tauranga.

None of this is deny that there might be problems around consenting processes, construction costs (and the construction products supply chain), and/or infrastructure, but please Auckland City stop trying to pretend that black is white and that land use regulation is not a major part of why house price to income ratios are so high in New Zealand –  not just in Auckland, or even Tauranga, but in places with few natural obstacles and modest population growth like Napier-Hastings, Christchurch, or even Palmerston North.

demographia 2 2018

Trade agreements and the new TPP

And so it appears that agreement has now been reached on a TPP-like agreement, minus the United States.   We haven’t yet seen the details (although this MFAT note is useful), but all the comments late last year suggested that the new agreement would stick as closely to the previously-agreed, but not ratified, TPP as possible (but presumably without the Joint Macroeconomic Declaration).

I wrote a few posts a couple of years ago, expressing doubts about the then-TPP agreement.  I wrote –  and write –  from the pro-trade, pro-market side of the argument.   Which, of course, is not the same as a “pro-business” perspective.

Sadly, TPP (and its replacement), like the welter of preferential trade agreements various governments have been signing over recent decades, isn’t necessarily a step towards free-trade at all.  That is a point the Australian Productivity Commission has long been making about such trade agreements –  probably since around the time of the Australia-US agreement which many independent experts concluded made Australia worse off economically (having been signed for political signalling purposes more than anything else).    These agreements keep MFAT officials busy, and ministers of trade looking as if they are “doing something”, but there isn’t much evidence (net) that they are making New Zealanders as a whole better off.

There were always arguments about how we couldn’t really afford (in some political sense) to stay out if everyone else in the region did a deal of this sort.  And there might be some force to that –  we aren’t the United States, say –  but it would be good to see the arguments made in the context of a robust independent assessment of the costs and benefits of the deal to New Zealanders.  There was nothing like that done here for the ill-fated TPP deal.  The new government has claimed to be interested in more-open government.  This would be a good opportunity to demonstrate that it was serious.

There were all sorts of things that disconcert me about the earlier agreement:

  • investor-state dispute settlement provisions should be an affront to every citizen of a functioning democracy with a decent legal system.   We allow foreign investors access to binding dispute resolution procedures against the New Zealand government that are not open to our own companies operating here (people complain, sometimes reasonably about discrimination against foreign investors, but the ISDS procedures invert the arrangements, preferencing non-citizens non-residents over our own people).  And it is no consolation to argue, as government do, “oh, but our own businesses get the same advantage in other countries”.  But if we care at all about nurturing democratic values and the rule of law in other countries, it shouldn’t be a ‘gain’ we are happy with our politicians negotiating.   If you want to do business in (communist) Vietnam, that is your affair, not that of the New Zealand government.
  • then there are the labour provisions (which I wrote about here), under which governments declare that domestic labour market regulation is a matter for international negotiation (and associated dispute settlement procedures).  A minimum wage might or might not be a good idea, but there is no sound reason why a requirement to have one should be made part of a binding international treaty.   At the more wishy-washy end of the scale there was this sort of stuff

And then we have provisions for Cooperative Labour Dialogue and the new Labour Council (and its associated “general work programme”). It isn’t clear why we would want to enter such arrangements even with other advanced countries, let alone with Vietnam or Peru. A recipe for small and lean government it is not ( and I won’t bore readers by listing the items (a to u) which the parties agree they might “caucus and leverage their respective membership in regional and multilateral for a to further their common interest in addressing labour issues – except to note that “work-life balance” appears on the list, and corporate social responsibility pops up again). Real resources will devoted to paying for all these new bureaucratic and political overlays.

  •  there are unsatisfactory provisions around financial crises.   For example, the TPP agreement required any country considering using direct controls (on foreign exchange flows –  of the sort used by several countries in the last crisis) to preference all flows associated with foreign investment over any other financial flows (including those relating to an identical asset owned by a resident.
  • or the weird provision which appears to bind governments to have to compensate foreign investors just as much as citizens in any cases of losses resulting from wars or civil strife.  As I noted in an earlier post, it would have appeared to require the British government, after the Blitz in 1940, to have compensated Swiss or Swedish owners of property on the same terms as it helped its own citizens.   Sometimes that might be appropriate or prudent, but probably not always, and why should it be subject of a binding international treaty, unable to envisage all contingencies.

It isn’t clear how New Zealanders –  or, indeed, citizens of most of the other parties to the new deal –  are going to benefit from the new agreement, which seems to extend the regulatory net even further, and further reduce the ability of citizens/voters to direct and control the activities of their own governments.

Among US commentators who were in favour of TPP it was common to talk of TPP as some sort of instrument in the rivalry with China; that TPP would somehow ensure that “we” would “write the rules of trade for the 21st century etc”.  I’m not sure these “rules of trade” look particularly attractive anyway, and of course if TPP were in any way a threat to China one could be sure that our craven governments (past and present) would not be in such a hurry to sign.

And, of course, if the government was really seriously about free-trade –  itself, a lofty and generally beneficial vision –  it could now unilaterally remove the remaining tariffs New Zealand keeps on imports from other countries; imposts that may benefit a few New Zealand firms, but almost certainly at the detriment of the New Zealand population as a whole.

Some (Chilean) perspectives on monetary policy decisionmaking and communications

I’d had more or less enough for this week of thinking/writing about Reserve Bank reform issues, when a (central banker) reader sent me a link to an interesting new survey article by a couple of researchers at the central bank of Chile looking at various institutional arrangements, including decision-making and communications, at 15 inflation-targeting central banks (all from OECD countries).    I’d suggest The Treasury, and the Independent Expert Advisory Panel appointed by the Minister to assist with the review of the Reserve Bank Act, take a look at the paper.

It isn’t perfect by any means –  and there were a surprising number of small errors of detail or emphasis, including in places about New Zealand – but there is a lot of interesting material nonetheless.  For a start, they seem to have chosen pretty much the right group for comparison: the well-established market economies, with reasonably well-governed democratic societies.   One might quibble about the inclusion of Poland, or note that if Poland is included perhaps Hungary should be too, but if you are looking for insights and ideas as to how our central bank (in its monetary policy dimensions) should be organised –   and wanting something to read to complement the Reserve Bank piece I posted here yesterday –  this list of central banks/countries seems about right:

ECB, USA, UK, Japan, Canada, Korea, Norway, Sweden, Australia, Israel, Chile, Poland, Czech Republic, Iceland (plus New Zealand)

I wasn’t too interested in, and won’t comment further on, the detailed material on the specification of the inflation target itself (except to note to the authors that the New Zealand target now has an explicit midpoint reference) –  ground well-covered in various earlier Reserve Bank articles.

What of statutory decision-making structures?  Of the 15 central banks, only New Zealand and Canada do not have a statutory committee making monetary policy decisions.   That is well known.   What is less well-known perhaps is that all those 13 central banks with statutory committees operate by vote.     The authors note that Canada and New Zealand describe themselves as attempting to operate by consensus, but in fact of course in both places only one vote formally counts –   that of the Governor, who has the legal responsibility.     And even in New Zealand, although the three man Governing Committee is claimed to operate by consensus –  they refuse to release any minutes, even under the Official Information Act, to allow us to really know – the members of the wider advisory group make written OCR recommendations, in effect a non-binding vote.

In some of their writings, the Reserve Bank likes to claim that consensus-building models of decision-making are superior.   There may be some arguments on that side of the issue, but actually voting –  after examination of the issues, discussion and debate –  is typically how we make decisions in free societies: be it in elections themselves, decisions of a local tennis club committee, or our higher courts (five judges on the Supreme Court: the verdict supported by the majority rules).  There is no particular reason to think monetary policy decisions are not as well made the same way –  indeed, since there is a great deal of uncertainty, and decisions are revisited every eight weeks or so (so there are few irreversibilities) it seems a pretty demonstrably efficient approach.

The Reserve Bank has also sought to claim that small committees are generally better than large committees.  Again, at some point no doubt there is truth to that –  with all due respect to the Cabinet, the 20th person on any committee is unlikely to be adding much marginal value, and the incentives for any specific member of a committee that large to slack off (put in little effort or fresh thought) can be real.   But of the 13 inflation targeting central banks with statutory monetary policy committees, the median number of members is eight.    For a smaller country, a statutory monetary policy committee with five or seven members sounds about right for New Zealand (none of these statutory committees in other countries has fewer than five members).     Membership numbers don’t seem to be a luxury good: the authors present a chart showing no relationship between GDP per capita and the number of MPC members in an inflation-targeting country.

It is also clear that members of the statutory monetary policy committes are almost entirely appointed by politicians –  as most key positions in our societies typically are (from Chief Justice or Police Commissioner down).   There are some exceptions –  eg regional Fed Presidents in the US (who rotate through voting membership of the FOMC), but even that situation is now raising some concerns among scholars in the US.   And almost all of the central banks with statutory MPCs have external members, in some form or another (sometimes part-time, sometimes becoming temporary full-time executives, sometimes full-time non-executive): governments rarely seem to see monetary policy decisions as matters only for some career “priesthood of the temple”.

I was also interested in some analysis the authors had done on the extent of unanimity, or otherwise, among monetary policy committees where voting decisions are published.

To listen to our Reserve Bank, if voting records were published, or minutes in which individual members could outline their views on specific monetary policy decisions, it would be a recipe for mayhem.  They’ve talked of it creating confusion, and uncertainty, undermining confidence in, and the credibility of, the central bank.

Here is what the Chilean authors have to say about such individualistic committees.

In individualistic committees each member is held publicly accountable for their decisions, and each member is empowered with one vote. Decisions tend to be reached by majority vote, where the Governor tends to have the deciding vote in case of a tie. The high degree of individual accountability results in regular reservations, dissents, or minority votes against the final policy decision. Two regularly cited examples of this type of committee are those of the UK and Sweden. Importantly, when a certain degree of public disagreement among committee members occurs, market participants are generally not surprised and understand the differences as part of the policy process.

That is more or less the point I’ve been making.  One could say the same about the United States.  And recall that these authors are themselves from a central bank with a committee more towards the “collegial” end of the scale.

And, in any case, as they illustrate, even in individualistic committees raging dissent is hardly the norm.

central bank dissents

Roughly half of all the monetary policy decisions in the UK and Sweden in the last decade have been unanimous.  (On the other hand, even for central banks at the collegial end of the spectrum, not all decisions are unanimous).   I’m not sure why they didn’t include the Federal Reserve in this particular analysis, but I suspect the numbers there would show something similar to the UK or Swedish experiences.

There was also some interesting material on communications practices.  For example, all 13 of the central banks with statutory monetary policy committees publish minutes –  to repeat, every single one of them.   The timeliness varies –  the UK and Norway publish the same day as the monetary policy announcement, but a more typical lag in about two weeks –  and of course the nature of the content differs: some are pretty bland, while others (notably those of Sweden) although a full and careful articulations of the arguments and issues of concern to individual members.

But there was also some surprises (at least to me).  Our Reserve Bank grudgingly released background papers to a 10 year old interest rate decision, and consistently refused to release any background papers –  no matter how topical –  used in the preparation  of their interest rate decision or Monetary Policy Statement (eg the recent refusal to provide any background analysis papers on the impact of various policies of the new government).  By contrast, and at the other extreme, according to the Chilean paper the central banks of the Czech Republic and Norway “publish a version of the staff MPM [monetary policy meeting] presentations shortly after the meetings”.    I struggle to see any good reason why such background analysis should not be released publically with, say, an eight week lag (eg released after the OCR decision one after the decision to which the background material relates)

And a bigger surprise still was the publication of transcripts of monetary policy meetings.  I knew that the Federal Reserve was doing so, and had heard the odd mention of it happening elsewhere.  In fact, the authors show that seven of their central banks are now doing so (including the Fed, the ECB, the Bank of Japan, and the Bank of England).  The lags are quite long –  the Fed is the shortest at five years.  But, fascinating as some of the old Fed transcripts are, especially from the era before members knew they would be published, even I have my limits around transparency, and this is one of them.  As the Chilean authors note

as highlighted by the Warsh Review (2014), the publication of meeting transcripts (and minutes) may to a certain extent impair a candid discussion of policy options among policy-makers, and lead them to limit their interventions to written statements that express their view (and vote) without the consideration of the perspectives of other members. In this context, it is possible that policy deliberations may be driven to other settings where a formal record is not being taken. Moreover, some existing evidence for the U.S (Meade and Stasavage, 2008) suggests that the publication of FOMC transcripts reduced the likelihood of dissent among committee members, and made members less willing to change their positions over time.

But the fact that various major (and minor) central banks are publishing such transcripts again helps give the lie to our Reserve Bank’s constant claim that it is one of the most transparent monetary policy central banks in the world.

One final aspect the Chilean authors covered was the role (if at all) of a Treasury or government representative in monetary policy decision meetings.    In the Reserve Bank paper I linked to yesterday, the Bank authors attempted to minimise this issue.   They noted that in Australia the Secretary to the Treasury is a voting member of the Reserve Bank (monetary policy making) Board and that in the UK there is a non-voting Treasury observer  who attends (statutory) MPC meetings.   Of our 15 central banks, that is all they note (although in Colombia, one of the countries they look at, the Minister of Finance is himself a voting member).

But here is part of the fuller Chilean treatment of the issue

In a second large group of central banks, an important authority of the administration, such as the Minister of Finance or his delegate, is invited to attend and speak in the MPMs, but does not have the right to vote on the monetary policy decision. Within this second group, the degree of potential government involvement differs. In Japan for example, the representatives of the government (Minister of Finance, Minister of State for Economic & Fiscal Policy) may propose issues to be discussed in the MPMs, and may even formally ask the MPC to postpone a vote on monetary policy until the following meeting. In the case of the Bank of Korea, the representative of the government (Minister of Strategy & Finance) may publicly request the MPC to reconsider a monetary policy decision if it perceives that the decision conflicts with the government’s economic policy.

Their tables also lists Chile, the Czech Republic and the UK as having non-voting Treasury representatives.  In the comments on the Rennie review report from Charles Goodhart (ex UK MPC) and Don Kohn (a current member of the UK FPC) no concerns were raised about this aspect of the UK model.

I don’t have a strong view on the possible role of a Treasury representative on either a monetary policy or financial policy committee in New Zealand.  But there is enough precedent in other countries to suggest that option deserves more serious consideration than the Reserve Bank –  always keen to keep Treasury out of its hair –  gives it.     If there was to be non-voting observer, the rules of the game might be quite important –  the person would be there to inform, answer questions, and report (as in the UK) and shouldn’t see themselves as having a role to try to shape decisions.

The Chilean piece was interesting and refreshing.     They make it clear –  without directly engaging with New Zealand issues at all – that if the government reforms our Reserve Bank Act to provide for:

  • a statutory monetary policy committee,
  • all appointed directly by the Minister,
  • with a good mix of internals and non-executive internals,
  • and timely publication of minutes and vote number,
  • with perhaps even details of dissenting members’ views, and even
  • delayed publication of background papers

It would be placing the Reserve Bank of New Zealand’s new model of governance. decisionmaking and communications right in the mainstream of international practice for countries of our type.

As it happens, I saw last night one other snippet reminding us of how far central bank transparency could go.  The Financial Times had an interesting piece outlining concerns in some quarters about senior central bankers getting too close to private bankers (in the New Zealand in recent times –  but probably not generally –  the problem is more the opposite), with particular concerns about ECB head Mario Draghi.    Partly in response

The ECB also now publishes the diaries of its six executive board members after officials were found to have met private sector representatives around the time of monetary policy decisions.

It might be a worthwhile model for our new central bank Governor to consider emulating, along with (in time) his deputies and members of the new statutory decisionmaking committees.

Our central bank was once at the forefront of (some aspects) of central bank transparency.  These days, it has weak (formal) decisionmaking processes and doesn’t do at all well on the transparency front either.  Those issues should be tackled properly as part of the current review.