Book Review: Jason Brennan & Peter Jaworski - Markets Without Limits

I had an extremely polarized reaction to this book. Its central question - how exactly does money relate to morality? - is incredibly important, and its answer - if you may do something for free, then you may do it for money - is elucidated in a clear, convincing manner I've never seen anywhere else. I can't say that I fully agree with all of Brennan and Jaworski's arguments, but the main idea itself, that it's not immoral to buy or sell something for money unless it's also immoral to get or give it away for free, is worthy of a long ponder. Indeed, even though this book is clearly written from a libertarian perspective, you often encounter its central argument coming from "the left" in a surprising number of areas, even from those who don't subscribe to the infamous label "neoliberal", so it probably isn't all wrong. The notion that commodification introduces ethical problems is nearly universal, but lots of things are or were universal without being correct, and I think the logic here is strong enough that it's worthy of being promoted to the default view, in a John Stuart Mill sense, where the burden of proof should generally be on the side of market opposition and that we shouldn't restrict markets unless they can be shown to cause harm. However, the authors fail to convince in several specific areas where they don't engage with empirical evidence, such as when they try to argue that it should be legal to buy and sell votes, and their disengagement with many obvious real-world counter-examples means that even though I find the basic idea extremely compelling, much of the book falls into "nice in theory but maybe not in practice" territory.

One of the best running gags in Philip K Dick's Ubik, one of my favorite science fiction novels, is how awful a completely commodified future could be. Point of sale transactions are everywhere, and there's a great scene where the main character has to pay the door in his apartment to pass through it; without enough change to pay the door, he grabs a knife to start unscrewing it while the door threatens to sue him. Ever since I read it I agreed with the unspoken anti-capitalist logic: some things can be monetized out of great necessity, but by default market transactions are alienating and impersonal, and to pass through a door without paying is the very nexus of free and freedom. Yet after reading this book, I think there's a different lesson to be had: it's not that paying for doors is somehow wrong (after all, it costs money to make a door, thousands if not tens of thousands of people pay for door installation without a second thought every single day, and essentially all of us have paid for doors directly or indirectly via rent or mortgage payments), it's just that the micropayments model is inappropriate for doors for exactly the same reasons that Clay Shirky explained made it inappropriate for websites way back in 2000: transaction costs make many small payments far more inconvenient than a single simple door purchase. That's not the same thing as saying that doors shouldn't cost money, still less that buying and selling doors is immoral, and the authors expand on this basic idea and run with it for 200 pages. They outline 7 dimensions of market manner, and argue that many objections to markets are really objections to particular combinations of market manners, when other combinations would be perfectly fine. Those 7 dimensions are:

1. Participants (buyer, seller, middleman, broker, etc.)
2. Means of exchange (money, barter, local currency, bitcoins, gift cards, etc.)
3. Price (high, low, moderate, etc.)
4. Proportion / Distribution (how much each party gets)
5. Mode of exchange (auction, lottery, bazaar, co-op, etc.)
6. Mode of payment (salary, scholarship, tip, charitable contribution, etc.)
7. Motive of exchange (for-profit, public benefit, cost-recovery, non-profit, charitable, etc.)

A socialist would immediately respond that even the mundane door market you find at Home Depot is still inherently immoral for the same reason that all markets are immoral: the exploitation and alienation of worker labor is wrong, full stop. I'm not a socialist and I disagree with that analysis, so a more interesting debate to have in my opinion is how the decision to buy or sell something affects our understanding of its "inherent" worth, given the failure of alternative models like the labor theory of value (as they astutely point out, "Marx thought that the value of the product was determined by the value of the labor that went into the product. On the contrary, it’s closer to the truth that the value of the labor that goes into the product is determined by the value of the product").

Libertarianism is hardly a less controversial framework than socialism for analyzing value, of course, but one benefit of neoclassical economics, or whatever you want to call the logic behind capitalism, is that it gives us perhaps the closest thing to a true utilitarian methodology we've yet discovered to compare the worth of things to different people, and the more you go looking for examples of seemingly "purely moral" situations where markets have not only not corrupted morality but improved people's lives the more you find. Karl Polanyi's fascinating The Great Transformation argued that markets have social contexts, and that even though the gradual introduction of markets irrevocably transformed the communal peasant societies of Europe into the liberal capitalist societies we see today, that there is no such thing as true laissez faire because you cannot truly separate a marketplace from the people in it, who act to protect themselves from its negative aspects. But are the downsides of markets inherent to markets as a whole, or only particular marketplaces where the 7 dimensions have been combined inappropriately? The Ubik door scene shows that it's possible to make door shopping into a completely normal and mundane part of life rather than a nightmarish dystopia, but there are plenty of other examples of where creating markets in things that were previously off-limits is not only normal but good.

One of Brennan and Jaworski's go-to examples is life insurance, particularly for children. In a world where life insurance doesn't exist, putting a price on the life of a child by means of paying a monthly premium to a company that will cut you a big check if the child dies sounds incredibly immoral and outrageous, if not like a perverse incentive for infanticide. However, in a world where life insurance is normal, it's opting out of life insurance that seems, at best, like a personal idiosyncrasy, whereas insuring your child is the adult and responsible thing to do. Furthermore, proposals to make the payouts of the gigantic life insurance system called Social Security stronger, and to bring more people into the gigantic health insurance system called Medicare, are not only perfectly orthodox left-wing ideas, they're supported even by socialists! So it's tough to argue that putting a price on human life is wrong in all contexts (note that paying for Medicare via payroll taxes instead of monthly premiums does not change the logic here), and it's easy to show that pricing human life can actually make us more careful and aware of each other. Remember that the idea is that markets don't introduce immorality where there was none before, so while it's still possible to have callous individuals and even murderers in a universally insured population, if they would have committed their murders anyway then it's hard to argue that insurance made them do it. And while murders for insurance money do of course happen, I think most people correctly see that scenario as an extremely rare perversion of an otherwise well-functioning system, and would hardly welcome the abolition of life insurance to "solve" that problem.

In that spirit, the authors group moral objections to commodification into 7 types, with the seventh having three forms:

1. Exploitation: Markets in some good or service - such as organ sales - might encourage the strong to exploit (to take unjust advantage of) the vulnerable.
2. Misallocation: Markets in certain goods and services - such as Ivy League admissions - might cause those goods to be allocated unjustly.
3. Rights Violations: Markets in some good - such as slaves - might violate people's rights.
4. Paternalism: Markets in some good or service - such as crystal meth or cigarettes - might cause people to make self-destructive choices.
5. Harm to Others: Markets in some good or service - such as pit bulls or handguns - might lead to greater violence.
6. Corruption: Participating in certain markets - such as buying luxury goods for oneself or Disney Princesses for one's daughters - will tend to cause us to develop defective preferences or character traits.
7. Semiotics: Independently of objections 1-6, to allow a market in some good or service X is a form of communication that expresses the wrong attitude toward X or expresses an attitude that is incompatible with the intrinsic dignity of X, or would show disrespect or irreverence for some practice, custom, belief, or relationship with which X is associated. Three forms of this:
1. The Mere Commodity Objection: Claims that buying and selling certain goods or services shows that one regards them as having merely instrumental value.
2. The Wrong Signal Objection: Claims that buying and selling certain goods and services communicates, independently of one's attitudes, disrespect for the objects in question.
3. The Wrong Currency Objection: Claims that inserting markets and money into certain kinds of relationships communicates estrangement and distance, and is objectionably impersonal.

In many cases, it seems like the fundamental objection is not the exchange of money, but the thing itself, and the most classic example of the intersection of money and morality where the typically "left" position is to support commodification is prostitution. Again, a perfectly consistent socialist position is that sex work, like all work, is fundamentally exploitative, but in practice, support for the legalization of exchanging money for sex is hardly a right-wing or exclusively libertarian idea in America today, and there are many impeccably leftist organizations attempting to alter prostitution regulations to protect workers or to organize them into unions to increase their bargaining power (i.e. to increase their wages, among other things). It's hard to see how legalizing prostitution harms sex workers relative to the status quo, and likewise, if a government were to suddenly criminalize a previously legal prostitution market, I don't think we would see that as helping or empowering them either.

Any use of those 7 moral objections about worker safety, consumer protection, power imbalances, or even sexual morality against a market for sex work has to grapple with the fact that most of them apply equally to the current absence of a market for sex work. The argument of "if you may do it for free, you may do it for money" is that there is no moral dividing line between a consensual one-night stand and a consensual visit to a prostitute, and that the addition of money doesn't in and of itself turn something that was okay into something that's not okay or vice versa. That seems correct to me, and it tracks with a similar argument about money in sports: at one point Olympic athletes were lauded as the same kind of "noble amateurs" that NCAA athletes are today; now no one blinks at Olympic athletes being firmly embedded in commerce, and it seems inevitable that college athletes will someday be paid as well, since it's the lack of payments to players which is the exploitation there. Brennan and Jaworski have many similar examples.

I don't want to sound unabashedly positive about the book, because I'm not. They insist correctly that empirical evidence should be the standard, but evidence is mighty scanty in the book itself, and their attempts to sum up vast fields of research in just a few "some studies say" paragraphs in order to argue for more markets are often spectacularly unconvincing. There's a bit on how paying for college admissions is just fine that feels particularly ill-timed in light of the "Operation Varsity Blues" admissions scandal, and at various points they weigh in on such weighty topics as whether markets necessarily "solve" racism or sexism, or whether school choice/vouchers have reduced costs without sacrificing quality, or whether it's a good idea to introduce tiered pricing for adopted babies based on their race and market demand, etc, in a manner that's anything but empirical. Does private industry or the government build better roads? A smart person could think of all sorts of philosophical rationales for one or the other, or even a combination of the two, but the fact that there is not a single obvious answer in the real world should make you skeptical of claims to be able to produce definitive public policy guidelines based on pure logic alone. These digressions are especially frustrating because strictly speaking they have nothing to do with the book's core thesis whatsoever. A government department building a road via tax revenue is in practice not much different than a private contractor building a road via bonds backed by expected future toll revenue, and though I agree that things like congestion pricing, which is a market for space on the highway during rush hour, would be helpful, it's not like you don't have underpaid women/minorities, failing charter schools, or discriminatory restaurants in the real world.

The nadir of their style of argumentation is in chapter 19, which is about vote-selling. Specifically, Brennan and Jaworski hope to show that, using the same "if you may do it for free, then you may do it for money" theorem which has served them so well so far, since it's totally fine for us to attempt to persuade each other to vote a particular way using words, that it is therefore perfectly kosher to take the next step and simply allow paying people to change their vote or stay home. Politicians already compete for votes in a market-like manner, voters in safe states already sometimes "trade" votes with voters in swing states, and spending money on campaigns is already often enough to make the difference in close elections, so let's just go ahead and legalize the outright purchase of votes. A lot of the heavy lifting in this chapter is done offscreen, by way of references to The Ethics of Voting, another of Brennan's books (he thinks that since most people are fairly uninformed, they shouldn't vote), and since it's boring to dive too deeply into artificial theories of voting on Justified True Beliefs wherein I the rational actor attempt to translate my ethical convictions into policy outcomes via the ballot box based on mechanistic cost-benefit incentives, I'll refrain.

Instead I'll just say that their thought experiment involving Ignorant Ignacio, Careless Carla, and Lackadaisical Loren to "prove" that buying votes is fine given the existence of stupid or lazy voters is wholly unsatisfying, and the complete absence of engagement with literally any political science literature is so brazen as to be almost comical, and in fact when I read this chapter I was in danger of throwing out the whole book in a rage despite agreeing with so much of it. I don't care if you think Citizens United was a good or bad decision, or if you think George Soros is better or worse than the Koch brothers, or how much public choice literature you have or haven't read, or if you do or don't generally trust politicians - anyone can set up a trolley problem where the moneyed elite being able to buy elections is good, actually, but reading about literally any corruption or election fraud scandal in history should be reason enough to pause when someone says that abandoning the democratic franchise in favor of giving powerful interests even more power will work out just great, trust me. Imagine using and trusting this system for even something as trivial as American Idol winners and it's laughable. Not even the Libertarian Party would choose to run its party primaries in this manner, allowing anyone with enough money (gold bars?) to simply purchase the nomination. It's like they read libertarian pundit PJ O'Rourke's quip that "When buying and selling are controlled by legislation, the first things to be bought and sold are legislators", and thought "yes, more of this".

Now, Brennan and Jaworski are perfectly aware of reactions like mine, and the final section of the book is devoted to why I'm wrong to have strong negative emotional reactions to insane proposals to legalize vote-fixing. Once again, in the most abstract terms their analysis makes perfect sense: time and again in history, people have said that markets are bad, and yet after markets were introduced, they turned out to be just fine and indeed irreplaceable. Douglas Irwin's excellent book Against the Tide recounts how weak arguments against the concept of free trade have been unkillable for thousands of years no matter how many times they're refuted, and Brennan and Jaworski are going for the same sort of thing here with respect to introducing markets in general. Disgust is a strong but unreliable guide to morality, and organ sales are a good example of how deadly emotion-based thinking can be - we laud an individual who donates a kidney to help out a stranger, but a real market in kidneys and other organs would be vastly more efficient, and we shouldn't let urban legends or sci-fi dystopias scare us out of saving many lives via market mechanisms in the same way as we shouldn't eliminate insurance systems because of lurid but extremely rare tabloid murders. So they are correct, in a sense, that my occasionally incredulous reactions fit into a general reactionary pattern, and that since I and many other liberals happily donate money to political campaigns to get our desired outcomes achieved via electoral success, it could theoretically be cheaper for us all to just cut out the campaign middlemen and simply pay our fellow citizens directly to vote our way.

Well, maybe. I feel bad concluding that "the authors are correct in a general sense yet incorrect in specific examples for reasons that I won't explain", so I will instead say that they include enough great examples of how markets not only don't corrupt virtues but enhance them to earn them a place in my mental toolbox regardless of the CITATIONS NEEDED sections, particularly with their taxonomies of market dimensions and moral objections to markets. They're absolutely right that we shouldn't think that store-bought flowers for a loved one are worse than garden-grown flowers, or that pet owners who have bought their pets from a store love them any less than owners who were given their pets by friends, or that managing demand by charging higher prices is less moral than creating giant queues (the BBQ joint Franklin in my city of Austin is infamous for forcing people to waste their time in 4-hour lines because Aaron Franklin refuses to either raise his brisket prices or expand his capacity beyond his personal control). In fact, one of the examples that they used in their own book, where they sold various levels of acknowledgements in a tiered pricing model, was disarmingly funny enough that it also seemed profound: if the concept of meaningful, heartfelt acknowledgements isn't ruined for everyone by a few authors deciding to auction off inclusion instead of following the typical spouse/children/parents pattern, what else could safely accommodate this model? Quite a lot, it seems, because one of the major advantages of capitalism is that it can transform zero-sum conflicts into positive-sum transactions. Just perhaps not quite as many transactions as they claim.

Book Review: Matt Taibbi - The Business Secrets of Drug Dealing

Great use of the serialized novel concept, even though I didn't read it until the whole thing had already been finished. Written as both a memoir and a Seven Habits of Highly Effective Drug Dealers by "Huey Carmichael" (yes, as in "P. Newton" and "Stokely"), an anonymous friend of Taibbi's, this literary treatment/extension of Biggie's famous "Ten Crack Commandments" offers the aspiring young criminal an interesting real-life account of the heady days of marijuana growing and distribution in the Wild West pre-legalization pre-corporate era, as well as, more relevantly, a bunch of practical advice on how not to get busted should you wish to continue running drugs outside the confines of the law. As he says, most drug dealers learn their jobs from movies, so it's neat to see a more detailed and practical set of guidelines than you can get from, say, watching New Jack City over and over again. While in literary terms it's not written with the gripping intensity of a classic like Clockers, the steady rotation of characters throughout the narrative, most notably his on-again/off-again girlfriend Courtney, gives the slow accumulations and rapid dissipations of his various drug empires a poignancy that a more clinical instruction manual would lack. Taibbi's forays into the criminal justice system in his previous books The Divide and I Can't Breathe were phenomenal, and this detour into the life of someone who neatly avoided that system is worth a pass as well.

Carmichael grew up "between two worlds", as they say, shuffling between upper class and working class communities in New Jersey in his youth. His leap to dealing was prompted by his discovery that he was good at it. Throughout the book he's clear-eyed about his place in America, particularly when he had a (fortunately) brief experience with prison. "I believe in money. So does America. Beyond that we don't have a relationship.... America and I, we were two ships that passed in the night. The mindless experience of prison was the only thing we ever shared." Since marijuana is on a seemingly inevitable march towards full legalization, one wonder how well these insights will translate to other drugs and future times. Would a non-fictional Scarface still offer useful lessons for someone running ecstasy? But on that subject, Carmichael made a great point about what the likely effects of legalization will be on the existing drug industry, particularly black people who don't have the access to capital it takes to get big: "People think racism in America is in a word or an image. It isn't. It's in money. The history of our country is that as soon as Black people find a way to build up anything, rich people find a way to take it. Doesn't matter if it's rock n' roll, rap, or subprime real estate. They buy it up and bust it from the inside. This country was founded on capitalism, and Black people were the first commodity sold on Wall Street. Now we'll be the first to be stripped of a business that we built, and in exchange some of us will get housing in Wall Street-backed private prisons."

Bleak stuff, and he's probably right. His complete list of rules, for the curious:

• Always have a job.
• Never let business partners know where you stay.
• Never trade minutes for years.
• Align incentives with potential antagonists.
• Minimize your risk.
• In every deal, at least double your money.
• Never write down anything you wouldn't want printed on the cover of the New York Times.
• Keep your face off the Internet.
• Deal with as few people as possible.
• No guns, but keep shooters.
• Always stay behind the white guy.
• Don't fuck with nobody else's girl, not even an enemy's.
• Always store in a place with a doorman.
• Always leave a dummy stash.
• Always get a pay lawyer. And get the best one there is.
• Always under-promise and over-deliver.
• Always keep your money neat.
• Patronize casinos.
• Trust the postal services.
• Try to work with people you know.
• If you can't afford a hotel room, I'm not doing business with you.
• No business at night.
• Be the last person in any group that walks into any space.
• When dealing with new people, Keep the purse small.
• A loss isn't a loss. It's a lesson.
• Always carry an Allen wrench.
• Embrace racial stereotypes.
• Every time you enter a state, change out your cars. Drive rentals but make sure you've got in-state plates as often as possible.
• Keep your business and your family separated.
• Dress like an off-duty Applebee's waiter.
• Always have a lawyer on retainer.
• Always pay the plug - unless you can't.
• Don't get attached.
• Treat your cash like kids, don't let it stay inside all day and get soft.
• I watch sixty seconds tick off on my watch before I say anything I might regret.
• Plan for the worst.
• If you talk long enough to hear yourself giving a speech, you're probably fucking something up.
• When you do any work, no matter how menial, always find out exactly how much you're worth. Because someone will always try to pay you less.
• In any big operation, don't weigh your foot soldiers down with too many different orders. Work hard to focus on a few simple goals.
• Always be willing to spend money for goodwill.
• Get your money and get out.
• Never count the next man's money.
• Never touch your savings.
• Never run from the front.

Book Review: David Warsh - Knowledge and the Wealth of Nations

Paul Romer shared half of the 2018 Economics Nobel for his work on endogenous growth theory, so I figured I'd pick up this 2006 look at his work to learn a bit more about what that was and why it matters (his co-Nobelist William Nordhaus' work on environmental economics is also given an all-too-brief mention). Popular works dedicated to technical theoretical economics of that sort aren't exactly common, so I was pleasantly surprised by what a good job David Warsh did of clearly explaining Romer's role in showing how Adam Smith's metaphor of the Pin Factory in The Wealth of Nations contained a fundamental tension between forces that increase concentration of economic activity, like increasing returns and falling costs, and forces that decrease it, like knowledge spillovers and competition, and how an improvement in mathematical modeling of traditional economic narratives both resolved that conceptual tension as well as advanced economics as a field, giving us a better explanation for how economic growth happens, especially in a "knowledge economy". There's some inside baseball in terms of how the economics profession is structured, so there are sections that can be skimmed if you're not interested in the conference circuit, the politics of academia, the structure of professional economics organizations, or the market for textbooks, but if you have an interest in the history of economic thought at the high level then this is a great explainer, and it provides a lot of excellent secondary reading if you then want to go back and read the debates firsthand themselves. It's always good to be reminded that discovery is an ongoing project, on important questions, between real people, still happening right now.

Paul Krugman, whose work on trade and economic geography comes up frequently in this book, once wrote a really interesting and directly relevant essay in 1996 that somehow wasn't cited here. Titled "Ricardo's Difficult Idea", its main subject is the idea of comparative advantage, and why such a simple economic concept is so hard for most people to internalize and then apply. He grounds that difficulty in the observation that there are two very different ways of thinking about the world: literary/narrative and mathematical/model-based, which don't always agree (this is perhaps for deep-seated cognitive-evolutionary reasons). When most people, even many professional economists, think about economic issues the default is to view issues in terms of simple zero-sum stories. For example, if Chinese companies are outcompeting American companies, then by imposing trade tariffs on China, American companies will be stronger, and hence America as a whole will be richer. Simple! 

This story has sounded very plausible for essentially all of human history, but explaining exactly why tariffs do not have the intended effects, and exactly how all sides become poorer from trade wars, requires an essentially mathematical understanding of economic logic that just does not come naturally to most people. Mathematical models by necessity make many simplifications of reality, but you can show how tariff revenue will almost certainly be smaller than costs to consumers in a simple diagram with just a few lines on paper, whereas forgoing the math means reverting to lengthy and complex expositions of concepts like deadweight loss, import/export price ratios, and currency exchange rates that sound plainly wrong to the uninitiated: what do you mean that making foreign products more expensive won't make us any richer?

Adam Smith faced precisely this difficulty in The Wealth of Nations, which is why it's so long and tedious to read today. Back then, the logic of specialization and division of labor had never really been laid out before, so Smith had to answer all the what-ifs and how-abouts at great length, just to be able to say that a pin factory can make more pins if each of the workers has specific steps of the pin-making process to perform. We can sum up in just a few neat equations what took him chapters to laboriously explicate, and another advantage of math is that it's easier to see when an idea has unexamined implications or hidden assumptions that lead to further problems. 

In the case of the pins, what sounds like a neat story about how a pin factory sees increasing returns from specialization, thereby creating economic growth, becomes more complicated when you consider multiple pin factories. Here the infamous invisible hand, acting as it does to increase competition and therefore decrease returns, should encourage competing pin factories to jump into the market until the total economic profit in the pin industry nears zero (or else you could increase economic growth forever by building endless pin factories, video game-style). But any theory of increasing returns should logically grant the first pin factory an insurmountable advantage until they come to monopolize the pin market, so how is it that most markets we see, while individual companies might come and go, are not in fact dominated by monopolies? One force rewards the most efficient pin maker, the other rewards their competitors, and it took until the advent of mathematical modeling for economists to get a real handle on how specific markets could work in any sort of equilibrium even as the total economy grew.

Ironically that's where Warsh's storytelling comes in so handy, as the progression of economics from a narrative discipline to a mathematical discipline is itself better-presented as a narrative. I'm sure there are people who would prefer that concepts like the effect that the size of the market has on specialization (why big cities have so many more and different high-skill and high-paying jobs than small towns) be directly conveyed to the reader in terms of the equations alone, but Warsh devotes a chapter to a single presentation in 1985, Robert Lucas' "On the Mechanics of Economic Development", with a quote showing what that would look like:

Suppose there are N workers in total, with skill levels h ranging from 0 to infinity. Let there be N(h) workers with skill level h, so that N = N(h)dh. Suppose a worker with skill h devotes a fraction u(h) of his non-leisure time to current production, and the remaining 1–u(h) to human capital accumulation. Then the effective workforce in production - the analogue to N(t) in equation (2) - is the sum Ne = the indefinite integral of u(h)N(h)hdh of the skill-weighted manhours devoted to current production. Thus if output is a function of total capital K and effective labor Ne is F(K,Ne), the hourly wage of a worker at skill h is Fn(K,Ne)h and his total earnings are Fn(K,Ne)hu(h).

It's perfectly readable if you have a math or econ background, but since economics is about human actions, the human context is important too. So while you do get some discussion of non-convexities and hyperplanes and other mathematical objects of interest, Warsh presents the slow accretion of various ideas into endogenous growth theory via the stories of the economists themselves trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. It might seem faintly condescending to praise economists for being able to turn statements like "knowledge is important for economic growth", "when one person has an idea it doesn't take away from anyone else", or "you can sell more things when there are more people" into equations, like so many toddlers stacking brightly colored blocks into towers, but again: economics is full of deeply counterintuitive ideas, and things that make sense at one level often need to be refined or modified at another level. Building a model that captures enough about the real world to be insightful, yet simple enough to be tractable, is really hard, especially when you're also trying to explain why lasting growth occurs in some places but not others, and the reduction of such a broad concept as "innovation" into a system of equations necessarily involves a short-term loss of subtlety in exchange for longer-term power and insight. It's one thing to theorize that cities grow based on industrial concentration, intense competition, or economic diversity, it's another to use real data and formal models as Ed Glaeser did, to see which theories actually hold up.

This is where Paul Romer's two papers come in: 1986's "Increasing Returns and Long Run Growth", and 1990's "Endogenous Technological Change". "Increasing Returns" integrates knowledge into a model of economic growth, focusing on the positive externalities of new ideas, the increasing returns to the production of goods, and the decreasing returns to scientific research. Whereas previous models had lacked a way to account for creativity, implicitly assuming that innovation happens "outside" the economy, Romer was able to show how firms innovate, how those innovations can leave a market in equilibrium while society overall experiences growth, and how strategic interventions by the government can move markets from low equilibria to higher ones through the strategic strategic diffusion of knowledge (for example, via anti-trust actions against monopolies, public funding for research, or liberalizing adjustments to copyright laws). "Endogenous Technological Change" relates knowledge to growth slightly differently, crediting knowledge accumulation for capital accumulation and productivity growth, formalizing how market forces encourage technological change (though with the important caveat that much "pure research" is insulated from direct market forces, as at universities), and better defining the non-rivalrous and incompletely excludable nature of how innovations can be shared at zero marginal cost. These are important clarifications, because as societies accumulate more knowledge and human capital, forces which apply less or differently to traditional physical capital, like network effects, public goods, indivisibilities, and property rights, become much more important. Public policy becomes vital to ensuring that the simple ingredients of capital, labor, human capital, and the level of technological progress are combined in a way that allows for competitive markets and stable growth.

A vivid example of this comes from Romer's own career, when he provided expert testimony during the infamous Microsoft monopoly trials of the 1990s. The history of the internet is a case study in knowledge spillovers, increasing returns, and literal network effects, and Microsoft's attempts to maintain its dominance in crucial junctures of the industry, modeled as "monopolistic competition", demonstrate the incentives produced by particular attitudes towards intellectual property rights in a world of free reproduction of software. These philosophical differences between the proprietary model and open source model were famously pondered over in essays like "The Cathedral and The Bazaar" and "In the Beginning Was the Command Line", but from a practical perspective, the court system was attempting to decide whether a judicious intervention into the market would diffuse this non-rival knowledge and hence improve economic growth, or whether Microsoft's strategy of using its trade secrets and large scale to dominate the market were all in the game and hence just another example of a successful firm. The decision to break up the company was never implemented, but amusingly enough, in 2005 Microsoft reorganized itself into functional divisions that closely resembled the antitrust experts and the judge's recommendation of how to break up the company AT&T-style.

Much of the book is devoted to Paul Romer's life story, which is interesting if you pay attention to the econ blogosphere or have some familiarity with the field since many prominent names appear at key junctures. His work on the pricing of so-called "club goods" like ski-lift tickets or Disneyland passes, where he accidentally retread the same ground as James Buchanan, is a funny demonstration of how difficult it can be for knowledge to stick within a profession. His attempts to break into the textbook market, and his founding of a company specializing in online test administration, show how rare it is for academic economists to have practical business experience, how that affects their research, and how there might still be room for innovation in the ancient world of teaching. 

William Nordhaus, who shared the other half of the 2018 Economics Nobel, gets a brief discussion of his 1993 paper "Do Real Income and Real Wage Measures Capture Reality? The History of Lighting Suggests Not", which is a fascinating attempt to track the true price of light throughout human history. Based on his estimates, the shifts in energy sources from wood to coal to oil and so on from prehistory to the present has brought the price of light, measured in the number of labor-hours required to produce an hour of light, from 40 man-hours per lumen-hour in 2000 BC to .0001 man-hours per lumen-hour in 2000 AD, which represents a hundreds of thousands-fold drop in costs. This works as both a great critique of attempts to measure price inflation and a practical, objective measure of technological progress at the same time. 

I wish there had been more discussion of Nordhaus' research in environmental economics, but a single book can only cover so many things, and as the book itself shows, a loss of specialization would mean a loss in total consumer satisfaction. Warsh produced an excellent account of how knowledge is actually accumulated.

Book Review: Annie Lowrey - Give People Money

The concept of a Universal Basic Income has been around in various forms for quite a while, but it's become more politically relevant recently for several reasons: rapid technological change combined with international supply chains, growing global wealth yet widening inequality, and the sense that not only do we now have the social structure to truly end poverty forever, but that the best tool is also the simplest. There are many examples in miniature of what a UBI could look like; Lowrey covers both historical and recent programs in places like India, Kenya, and Alaska to explore what has worked to reduce poverty, and what has not. 

For example, delivering unconditional cash grants via India's Aadhaar program (a vast biometric digital identity scheme tied to pensions, banking, census, and various welfare functions) has had many of the intended poverty reduction benefits, but at the cost of great disruption to established patterns of life; requiring that individuals receive their benefits themselves reduces fraud, but sometimes the system crashes, or someone can't send their relative to pick up the money and has to take off work, or they can't make the side deals they used to. That kind of James Scott's Seeing Like a State central control vs local knowledge stuff would be critical in any kind of implementation, both between countries (would a UBI dramatically increase illegal immigration from countries without them?) and within them (would poor people just waste a non-means tested UBI or otherwise stop entering the labor market?), so even beyond the philosophical question of "should we?", the "how exactly?" question remains.

Science fiction has dealt with these questions for a long time, so in addition to the extensive analysis of real pilot programs, Lowrey touches on what, if anything we can learn from those explorations in terms of program design. The founding text for modern sci-fi worlds of plenty is probably Keynes' famous 1930 essay "Economic Possibilities For Our Grandchildren", where he accurately predicted that by 2030 we'd be between 4 and 8 times as rich as in 1930, but inaccurately predicted that we'd all therefore choose to work much less. Star Trek is the most famous fictional example of a society that has solved the "economic problem" and allowed people to work for fun rather than out of necessity, but the questions of how one would actually acquire wine from Picard's family vineyard or gumbo from Sisko's restaurant were usually left offscreen (Manu Saadia's pleasingly nerdy Trekonomics is cited at length). 

For a different take I wish she had also discussed Neal Stephenson's The Diamond Age, in which free replicators simply increase inequality, a fantastically wealthy overclass taking full advantage of technological cornucopia while the proles squander their dole in a manner familiar to Dickens. I think the question of whether free money corrodes the work ethic is an empirical question, and as Lowrey shows, while of course some people in Alaska do spend their free money on luxuries, the idea that most or even many people would waste precious funds is more fantastical than Star Trek, where everyone is an amateur archaeologist or chef or what have you.

There are even some conservatives, like Charles Murray, who advocate a UBI as a replacement for the existing welfare state precisely because it maximizes personal choice in that way, and is not susceptible to the familiar incentive-warping problems of means-tested programs: if a program like Medcaid is only available to those with an income less than $X, the strong incentive not to make more than $X can end up entrenching poverty rather than reducing it, to say nothing of how complex overlapping benefits programs are. However, the seemingly more dystopian concept of a federal jobs guarantee seems to be competing for mindshare as the preferred solution for poverty, particularly among liberals. 

I haven't seen a jobs guarantee show up in fiction to a great degree, but as Nick Taylor's superb history American Made shows, in the real world America still depends to a surprising degree on the infrastructure built during the Great Depression by the Works Progress Administration, the first real experiment with guaranteed jobs. The two concepts need not be opposed - I don't see why people couldn't choose to supplement their UBI by also accepting a government job - but it is striking that a UBI seems much more popular among intellectuals than a jobs guarantee, given the historical record of each. Perhaps the worry is that guaranteed jobs could become mandatory jobs, combining the worst aspects of the medieval corvée with Soviet subbotniks. A UBI seems much more difficult to run poorly than a jobs guarantee, but the work requirements that conservative states are trying to inflict upon their Medicaid recipients should indicate that a government that's determined to harass its poorest or most vulnerable citizens will find a way.

Keynes was a big champion of capitalism as the best tool to raise living standards, and ultimately the idea of ending poverty is an economic question as much as a moral one. It may be that truly ending it involves a sort of struggle against diminishing returns: a typical capitalist economy working well enough for most people (80%?), with guaranteed jobs picking up the majority of the slack (15%?), and a UBI covering those few who for whatever reason can't handle employment in either the private or public sectors. The last mile of anything is always the most difficult, but since a UBI covers everyone, it's less susceptible to the "programs for poor people are poor programs" issues that that currently plague America's haphazard, rickety, and often racist welfare state. 

The single most difficult aspect of a UBI is the funding structure, and here Lowrey predictably is less able to give useful guidance, since these are bitter political and practical questions. Alaska's scheme is funded from oil, but not only is every state not Alaska, but even Alaska might find its wells running dry someday. As FDR said of his own attempt to fund a UBI for the elderly: "We put those payroll contributions there so as to give the contributors a legal, moral, and political right to collect their pensions and their unemployment benefits. With those taxes in there, no damn politician can ever scrap my social security program." 

We don't have as much fiscal space as FDR did back in the welfare state's infant days, so either coming up with new taxes, such as on financial transactions or wealth, or finding acceptable ways to increase existing taxes, will prove the most challenging part of all. But, as Lowrey shows, there's no real mystery to ending poverty - just give people money.

Book Review: Thomas Geoghegan - Which Side Are You On?

Not that I've read a lot of books about labor law, but this is the most well-written book about the experience of practicing labor law I've ever read, a sort of ground-level counterpart to the labor-market sections of Krugman's book. I once read an Amazon review for another one of Geoghegan's books that claimed that all of his books were really about citizenship in one form or another, and I agree with that. This one focuses on the damage that conservative policies did to the traditional American understanding of citizenship during the 1980s, specifically that of the Chicagoland union members that were being fired in droves as structural shifts in the economy (both natural and planned) eliminated their jobs and their places in society under the guise of the "invisible hand" while the corporations who cheerfully outsourced their jobs made huge profits. Geoghegan is witty and self-deprecating as he recognizes the futility of reversing or even slowing the massive hemorrhaging of jobs, and he pulls no punches in recounting the resulting ugly fratricide as these desperate unions relentlessly and inscrutably destroyed themselves as they lost everything they had. Somehow I ended up reading a lot of anti-Reagan books this year, and this was the second-most vitriolic out of the lot.

Book Review: Paul Krugman - The Conscience of a Liberal

I've been a regular reader of his always-interesting New York Times columns for years, but ever since I studied his work on trade and urban geography in grad school (coincidentally, the work that would gain him the 2008 Economics Nobel Prize), I've been a huge admirer of his serious economics work as well. The Conscience of a Liberal is a response of sorts to Barry Goldwaters's highly influential 1960 book The Conscience of a Conservative, making the case that if the United States is to remain a country where everyone can pursue their own happiness in maximum liberty and peace, the Reagan-era policies that benefit the rich few at the expense of the poor many must be reversed, and a new New Deal - chiefly the establishment of universal health care - is the best way to encourage opportunity and ensure that everyone can fully participate in the ever-changing American economy. It's also an enlightening history of the modern liberal and conservative movements that does a great job of showing the direct lineage from historical states' rights segregationists to modern health care reform opponents, and how calm debate and careful thinking can and should win out over narrow self-interest and greed. A good way to tell a good book is by how much it gives you to think about after you've finished, and The Conscience of a Liberal had me thinking about it for months afterwards.