Friday 12 November 2021

Control and who has it

Over the last couple of years I have expressed concerns at the UK’s mounting governance problem in which the government has failed on numerous occasions to adhere to the standards expected of it, arguing that this undermines the rules-based economic system in which we operate. Equally, I have been puzzled at the lack of cut-through with the wider public. But in the last week there have been signs that the issue is beginning to generate wider public concern. Quite how pivotal this will turn out to be remains to be seen but it does feel highly significant.

The Paterson case

The issue was triggered by the Owen Paterson affair (here for an overview). For those not following the minutiae of British politics – and who can blame you? – Paterson was an MP who was found guilty by the parliamentary Standards Committee of having “breached the rule prohibiting paid advocacy.” In other words accepting money from outside sources to lobby government – something which is expressly prohibited under parliamentary rules. His original punishment was a 30-day suspension from the House of Commons which under the circumstances seemed like a minor slap on the wrist. However, Paterson protested his innocence, arguing that the system was not fit for purpose although surprisingly no MPs had seen fit to bring up this problem before.

What was shocking was that the government then backed a parliamentary motion to suspend the current process and review the system of investigating breaches of the parliamentary code by MPs, which would have let Paterson off the hook. They did this by whipping MPs (instructing them to vote in line with the government’s wishes) to override the findings of the Standards Committee. 242 Tory MPs backed the motion (6 voted against and 111 abstained), apparently on the understanding that those who did not support the government’s line would find their constituencies at the back of the queue when it came to doling out funding.

Like no comparable issue in recent years, this generated a huge backlash with even traditionally sympathetic newspapers such as the Daily Mail crying foul. Even the most ardent Conservative supporters found it hard to stomach what came across as an attempt by MPs to change the rules in order to protect one of their own, despite the fact that the due process found Paterson guilty of the charges he faced. Consequently, the government swiftly executed a U-turn after claiming that “this isn’t about one case but providing members of parliament from all political parties with the right to a fair hearing.” This is nonsense and everybody knows it. But as a result the 242 MPs who risked the ire of their constituents were left high and dry by the government’s about-turn.

Symptomatic of a wider problem

Whilst there have been numerous financial scandals in British politics in the past (see here for a list) what differentiates this issue is that the government sought to subvert due process. It is part of a developing pattern which has gained momentum during Boris Johnson’s time in office. In 2019 his government attempted to prorogue parliament in order to shut down dissent over Brexit. In 2020, it backed legislation that was a flagrant breach of international law. The prime minister also kept the Home Secretary, Priti Patel, in place despite the fact she was found to have breached the Ministerial Code. Those Tory MPs who voted in line with the government’s wishes may reflect on Johnson’s handling of the DUP, upon whom his government initially relied for a parliamentary majority prior to the 2019 election, whose position regarding the impact of Brexit on Northern Ireland was totally ignored when it no longer suited Johnson’s interests.

It is ironic that this furore blew up during Johnson’s hosting of COP26 where the world’s media must have been somewhat bemused to be told that the UK is "not remotely a corrupt country." On the basis of research carried out by Transparency International (TI) there is some truth to that statement (strange as it may seem). Ten years ago, TI launched a report which it defined as a ‘health check’ for the UK. Since it was published the UK has acknowledged some of the criticisms and has improved its performance in the TI corruption perception index, moving up from 17th place in 2011 to 11th. Yet one line from the report remains true today: “it is correct to say that in some areas of UK society and institutions, corruption is a much greater problem than recognised and that there is an inadequate response to its growing threat.”

Indeed, there is a sense that something is not right in the corridors of power. A joint investigation by openDemocracy and The Sunday Times found that in the past seven years, every former Conservative party treasurer who has contributed £3 million to the party has been offered a seat in the House of Lords. The analysis by openDemocracy suggests that the odds of so many major Tory donors in the UK population all ending up in the House of Lords is equivalent to winning the National Lottery 12 times in a row. Even if we accept that such dubious practices are less of an issue in the House of Commons and that the Paterson case was a rare example, there has been a corrosion of political standards (cf the list of examples above). Perhaps this can be traced back to the Brexit referendum when the Leave campaign blatantly misrepresented the facts without sanction, and secured their end goal.

Brexit opened up a whole new can of worms

A pattern has emerged whereby the government is determined not to be constrained by the institutional framework in the pursuit of its policies, and will only back down if ordered by the courts or if it plays exceptionally badly with the electorate. Thus, nobody cared sufficiently about the Patel case to make an issue of it, nor was the double-crossing of the DUP likely to cost many votes. By contrast the attempt to prorogue parliament was enough of a big deal that the Supreme Court was forced into a ruling. A test of the government‘s new-found principles will be whether it feels sufficiently bold to try and force through former Daily Mail editor Paul Dacre as the next head of the media regulator Ofcom despite him being found “not appointable” by the interview board when he applied for the job earlier this year.

One of the supreme ironies in all this is that Brexit was sold as a way for the British electorate to take back control – whatever that meant. Yet large parts of the electorate are increasingly concerned at policies being enacted in their name. Voters might have been given their say on whether the UK should remain in the EU but they have had no subsequent input on the form of Brexit (the general elections of 2017 and 2019 cannot be regarded as true plebiscites on Brexit as they conflated a number of issues). The quality of governance also appears to be deteriorating. For example, the extent of shady deals agreed between government and its favoured suppliers in the early stages of the Covid pandemic represented a degree of insider dealing that is simply not tolerated in the financial services industry.

All of this should worry those who care about democratic accountability and the rule of law upon which the economy is based. Sometimes it takes an outsiders eye to uncover the truths that many at home are unable or unwilling to see. This excellent essay by ARD’s London bureau chief, Annette Dittert, does just that. She points out that the inherent contradictions within Brexit, which is an ideological project offering no steer on how Britain can use its new-found sovereignty, has forced Johnson to turn his back on reality merely to keep the plates spinning. In so doing, he has been forced to ride over democratic norms and in the process is showing the British constitution for what it is: A beautiful illusion that only ever worked “so long as everyone wanted to hold onto it.”

The good news is that the UK has a strong institutional framework which has so far stood firm in the face of a political onslaught. But as the experience of Hungary and Poland shows, it is quite easy for a determined government to override it. That should be a lesson to us all.

Friday 5 November 2021

A little less conversation (a little more action please)

The investor community was distinctly unimpressed with the BoE’s decision to leave interest rates on hold yesterday with accusations that it had raised expectations ahead of the MPC meeting, only to dash them again. I have a lot of sympathy with those who were caught out, having spent years trying to discern the messages from central banks, and it is always immensely galling when policymakers drop hints only to act contrary to these messages. But it is equally important to understand that central bank messaging is always ever conditional and this subtlety is often overlooked during the media frenzy. However, this episode calls into question the usefulness of forward guidance as a policy tool and the BoE will clearly have to work on its communication strategy. There is also a question of whether a rate hike to counter a supply-side boost to inflation was ever the right approach in the first place.

Communication breakdown

Starting first with the communications, Governor Andrew Bailey told an online panel discussion organised by the G30 group on 17 October that "monetary policy cannot solve supply-side problems - but it will have to act and must do so if we see a risk, particularly to medium-term inflation and to medium-term inflation expectations … And that's why we at the Bank of England have signalled, and this is another such signal, that we will have to act." There were mutterings at the time that such a strong statement, made on a Sunday when markets were closed, should not have been made unless it signalled a shift in policy communications. A few days later the BoE’s new chief economist, Huw Pill, said in an FT interview that “I think November is live” and went on to add “the big picture is, I think, there are reasons that we don’t need the emergency settings of policy that we saw after the intensification of the pandemic” (a view I would endorse). But Pill also tried to take some heat out of the debate by noting “maybe there’s a bit too much excitement in the focus on rates right now.”

The latter point is the bit that was overlooked in the media commentary that followed. The BoE really ought to know better by now that markets simply do not do subtlety. Interest rate decisions are viewed as binary and markets are very poor at determining the distribution of risks unless they are spoon fed. There were also a couple of exogenous factors to take into consideration. Central banks are generally wary of moving ahead of the Fed, and with the FOMC having kept rates on hold the previous evening, the BoE may well have been sensitive to the prospect of acting unilaterally. Moreover, the MPC was not helped by the timing of the tax-raising Budget, released at the start of the MPC ‘purdah period’, which allowed the BoE no time to nudge expectations.

Better ways to communicate

A couple of years ago, former MPC member Gertjan Vlieghe gave a speech in which he suggested there were better ways of communicating monetary policy than the BoE does now. The speech was somewhat overlooked but in my view was a very thoughtful contribution to the policy debate that deserved more consideration. Vlieghe argued that there was a case for the MPC to communicate end-year forecasts for the policy rate. In his view this would take some heat out of the debate by reducing the focus on the very near term (though it may occasionally make life difficult at the final MPC meeting of the year). He reported that central banks in Sweden, Norway and New Zealand, which publish explicit forecasts, were satisfied that this method improved transparency. However, I have reservations that such an approach would work in the UK. Although Vlieghe noted that “it would be important to communicate the degree of uncertainty around this path”, my concern is that the commentariat would not necessarily understand the distinction between a conditional and an unconditional forecast. We are thus likely to end up in a situation where failure to deliver on the central case would be seen as a policy error.

If the BoE were to change its communication strategy, my own preference would be for it to adopt something akin to the Fed dot plot in which individual committee members give their own (anonymised) views on how they believe rates will develop. Here, too, there are many arguments against. For one thing, a dot plot does not identify how interest rate forecasts are linked to growth and inflation forecasts. Moreover the markets would likely focus on the diversity of views rather than the median outcome thus missing the point of the communication.

If we do not like this idea there is always the radical option of not trying to appease markets in the first place. Indeed, explicit monetary policy communication is a relatively recent phenomenon with the Fed switching to this strategy only in 1994. It is not as if the forward guidance policy espoused by former Governor Mark Carney has been a great success. If one of the objectives of monetary policy communication is to increase transparency, the outcome in the wake of yesterday’s decision, when sterling fell by 1.5% against the dollar and bond yields declined by 14 bps, is the sort of transparency that investors could probably live without.

Should interest rates be raised at all?

The issue of whether central banks should raise interest rates is one which I will undoubtedly look at in more detail in future. However, a couple of quick thoughts are in order. I have long taken the view espoused by Huw Pill that central banks have been too slow in taking back the emergency monetary easing put in place to cope with exceptional circumstances. In my view, one of the BoE’s errors in recent years has been the asymmetric nature of its reaction function. It has rightly cut interest rates during times of stress to provide support to the economy. But once the emergency is over, it has justified the decision to keep rates on hold by an absence of inflationary pressures rather than referring to a normalisation of economic conditions. This asymmetry has resulted in real interest rates remaining in negative territory for much of the past decade, with all the attendant distortions that have resulted.

Furthermore, with the BoE expecting inflation to get close to 5% next year, it is difficult to understand why a central bank which talks so much about hitting its inflation mandate continues to sit on its hands. Obviously the inflation spike is being driven by energy trends and supply bottlenecks in the wake of the pandemic, neither of which are amenable to monetary policy actions. But if the central bank does not want to raise rates at a time when inflation is heading towards its highest in 14 years, when will it ever?

Matters were undoubtedly complicated by the release of the budget last week, in which the main takeaway was the ongoing squeeze on household incomes. A rate hike would clearly have played badly in those circumstances. But what the episode demonstrates is that the BoE will have to think a lot more clearly about how it communicates its message, and perhaps equally importantly who it is communicating with? The decision to keep rates on hold sends a positive message to households that the BoE does not intend to make their lives harder but rattled markets which got carried away with the central bank’s message (obviously a rate hike would have reversed the two situations).

There are no easy answers to the conundrum of market communication, but clarity and consistency are the watchwords and arguably the BoE has fallen a bit short on both. Perhaps the problem can best be summed up in Alan Greenspan’s famous quote: “I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.” It is easy to be critical of both the BoE for its mixed messages and investors for reading too much into its pronouncements. But if ever there was a sign that communications need to be rethought, this week's events provided it.

Tuesday 2 November 2021

Cop out in Glasgow

Greta Thunberg and The Queen may represent different ends of the age spectrum but in recent days both have expressed irritation that world leaders talk a lot about preventing climate change but do little about it. They have a point: The science of climate change has been known for a long time and economics offers solutions to mitigate the problems. Perhaps understandably, politicians are not willing to inflict on voters the costs required to fully price carbon emissions but it is a debate that societies around the world urgently need to have – and should have been having at least 20 years ago.

The scale of the problem has been known for years

Climate change is just one branch of a field of environmental science that has mushroomed in the past 50 years. The science behind climate change has been known since the nineteenth century but it was not until the early 20th century that the first attempts were made to assess the impact of man-made activity. Efforts in the 1930s to calculate the future effect of rising CO2 emissions on global temperatures turned out to be hopelessly optimistic because they underestimated the impact of economic growth[1]. However, in the 1950s, the physicist Gilbert Plass estimated that CO2 concentrations would rise by 30% over the 20th century and warned that temperatures would increase by 1.1oC[2]. Although his calculations did not take into account some of the factors which we know today, his estimate that a doubling of CO2 emissions would raise global temperatures by 3.8oC is not far off today’s consensus estimate of 3oC. Rather more disconcertingly he pointed out that if all known (at the time) fossil fuel reserves were burned, this would raise global temperatures by 7oC.

Much of the early work remained within the narrow confines of the scientific community but the political agenda began to take note in the 1960s and 1970s, triggered initially by resource concerns. The environmental lobby was radicalised by the publication of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson in 1962 in which she highlighted the effects of agrochemicals on the environment. In 1968, the ecologist Garrett Hardin published his famous article in Science titled The Tragedy of the Commons, in which he argued that individuals acting in their own self-interest would result in sub-optimal social use of natural resources. It was around this time that modern environmental economics started off as a fringe discipline but by the mid-1970s it was rising very rapidly up the agenda.

It is not the intention here to go into any detail on the history of environmental economics. Instead, interested readers are referred to the literature review by David Stern and his co-authors, published in 2014. It is, however, worth highlighting the work of William Nordhaus and Nicholas Stern (no relation to David). Climate issues were first subject to economic analysis in the 1970s and by the 1980s Nordhaus[3] was producing scenario analysis and projections for future CO2 emissions. Nordhaus can lay claim to being the most preeminent economist working on climate issues and he was awarded the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences in 2018 for his work in the field.

One of the most important early policy works was the 2006 Stern Review. Although it met with a mixed reception from economists, it was highly influential and argued that climate change represented a major market failure. One of the basic recommendations was that the benefits of strong, early action far outweigh the costs of not acting and it proposed a number of economic solutions, including the application of environmental taxes, to correct for some of the failures.

Why has it taken so long?

In light of all this the fact that we find ourselves at “one minute to midnight on that doomsday clock”, to quote Boris Johnson at the opening of the COP26 summit in Glasgow, represents a potentially catastrophic policy failure. The summit is being touted as “humanity’s last and best chance to secure a liveable future amid dramatic climate change” and “as one of the important diplomatic meetings in history.” It comes six years after the Paris Agreement when 196 countries signed a legally binding treaty pledging to hold global temperatures no higher than 2oC above pre-industrial levels, with an aspiration to limit the rise to 1.5oC. However, Earth’s temperature has risen by 0.08°C per decade since 1880, and the rate of warming over the past 40 years is more than twice that: 0.18°C per decade since 1981 (chart below). Simply put we are running out of time to limit the temperature rise, if we have not done so already.

Although the Paris Agreement imposes binding constraints on countries’ carbon emissions, just three countries account for more than 50% of global emissions (China: 30%; US: 14% and India: 7%). For the record Europe accounts for 11%. However, whilst global CO2 emissions rose by 59% between 1990 and 2019, European emissions fell by 25% (largely thanks to Ukraine); US emissions were broadly flat whilst those in the Asia Pacific region rose by a whopping 220% and the region as a whole has accounted for 92% of the increase in global emissions since 1990 (chart below).

Whilst the likes of Greta Thunberg rail at politicians in Europe and the US for not doing enough, it is China and India which have done so much to change the carbon balance. This is not to say that the industrialised world should not do much more – after all, a significant portion of Chinese emissions can be attributed to production for western consumers – but it is clear that so long as the rapidly industrialising economies in Asia continue to rely on fossil fuels, the prospect of limiting global carbon emissions appears remote. With Chinese leader Xi Jinping not expected to attend the Glasgow summit, the likelihood that COP26 will result in a global climate deal is next to zero.

What should happen at COP26?

The scientific consensus suggests that greenhouse gas emissions need to fall by anywhere between 25% and 50% over the next decade in order to have any chance of limiting the global temperature rise to 2oC. This is arguably impossible in the absence of a carbon tax. According to the IMF around 80% of carbon emissions are unpriced and the global average emissions price is only $3 per ton. However it reckons that a three-tier price floor involving just six participants (Canada, China, EU, India, UK and US) with prices of $75, $50, and $25 for advanced, high, and low-income emerging markets, respectively could help achieve a 23% reduction in global emissions below baseline by 2030.

What is likely to happen?

Rather than such a grandiose plan COP26 is likely instead to result in a series of smaller resolutions, all of which mount up to something positive. The US commitment to supporting the Paris Agreement runs counter to the ill-judged actions of Donald Trump. There has also been a commitment to halt global deforestation over the next decade.  Even India has pledged to cut carbon emissions to net zero by 2070. Whilst this is the first time India has made such a commitment, it is not ambitious enough and it was hoped that COP26 would agree a global carbon neutral pledge by 2050. Here lies the nub of the problem as outlined by Garrett Hardin over 50 years ago: Nations acting in their own interest make the global problems worse. Whilst India does have a point that the industrialised nations need to do more because they have contributed far more to emissions over time, India also has a moral duty to its future generations to adopt the new technologies at a faster rate than currently planned – even China is aiming for net zero by 2060 (though China needs to do a whole lot more as well).

The simple truth is that politicians around the globe – and by extension, we the people – have been slow to recognise the need for change and are unwilling to pay the economic price for the action required. I hope I am wrong in my assessment that in 10 years’ time we will still be having the same debate. But with many countries having failed to turn the tanker around in time (the EU plus UK to some extent excepted), I fear that climate issues will get a lot worse before they get better. Still, I blame the dinosaurs. If they hadn’t got themselves fossilised, maybe none of this would have happened.



[1] Callendar,  G. S. (1938) ‘The  artificial  production  of carbon  dioxide  and its  influence  on temperature’,  Quarterly  Journal of the Royal  Meteorological Society 64: 223-240

[2] Plass, G. N. (1956) ‘The carbon dioxide theory of climatic change,’ Tellus 8(2): 140-154 (here)

[3] Nordhaus, W. D. and G. W. Yohe (1983) ‘Future paths of energy and carbon dioxide emissions’, in T. F. Malone (ed.) Changing Climate: Report of the Carbon Dioxide Assessment Committee, National Academy Press, Washington DC. Chapter 2.1: 87-152