Sunday, August 28, 2016

Monkeys and termites


The 14th century Arab historian Ibn Khaldun had this interesting explanation for the rise and fall of dynasties and empires. The high density of population in large urban centres is only possible if violence is repressed by law, morality and habit. Citizens must have recourse to it as little as possible. But this necessary passivity makes them vulnerable to aggressions. So mercenaries are hired to maintain order and protect the frontiers. They come from the periphery of the city’s dominions where primitive customs persist. After a while, the mercenaries evict the feeble rulers and form a new government. It will in turn be softened by city life and overturned.

Ibn Khaldun found matter to support his idea in antiquity and in his own century. In Rome, Cordoba, Damascus, Baghdad and Cairo, regime change had often been decided by foreign mercenaries such as the Praetorian Guard and the Mamelukes, and by invading Hun, German, Berber or Mongol tribes. What this shows is the inherent fragility of urban civilisation, and its fundamental contradictions where the abhorrence of violence coexists with its constant perpetration. “Humans”, said the sage, “are bands of monkeys trying to live like termites”. Predatory violence is not adapted to concentrated homogeneity, so constraint is the only option. And the constrainers periodically change from serving society to ordering it.

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Eighty years after


I feel sure that the demand for capital is strictly limited in the sense that it would not be difficult to increase the stock of capital up to a point where its marginal efficiency had fallen to a very low figure. This would not mean that the use of capital instruments would cost almost nothing, but only that the return from them would have to cover little more than their exhaustion by wastage and obsolescence together with some margin to cover risk and the exercise of skill and judgment. […] Now, though this state of affairs would be quite compatible with some measure of individualism, yet it would mean the euthanasia of the rentier, and, consequently, the euthanasia of the cumulative oppressive power of the capitalist to exploit the scarcity-value of capital. Interest today rewards no genuine sacrifice, any more than does the rent of land. The owner of capital can obtain interest because capital is scarce, just as the owner of land can obtain rent because land is scarce. But whilst there may be intrinsic reasons for the scarcity of land, there are no intrinsic reasons for the scarcity of capital.
John Maynard Keynes. The General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money Ch.24, II (1936)

Eighty years ago, Keynes explained that capital could become overabundant, either of itself or because of government action. Though it took somewhat longer than he might have imagined, that is today’s reality. The dotcom bubble, the subprime mortgage scam, and now unicorn companies, all were and are the consequences of too much money chasing too few investments. If market forces had been allowed to act in 2008/9, the “too much” would have been skimmed off by some resounding bankruptcies. But governments stepped in with bailouts, and central banks have since flooded the market with quantitative easing money.

The world is submerged by liquidity looking for a return (1). And this coincides with a slowdown in the growth of global production and of productive investments. Presently, the only way money can “earn” anything is from bets on the ups and downs in value of equity, commodity and currency markets. Buying and selling can still bring a profit, but lending and producing are at zero or negative. This means that investment and pension funds are struggling to pay out what was promised, and savings have stopped compounding any interest. Rentiers in this century are mostly pensioners, and they are effectively being euthanized as dwindling incomes oblige them to spend their capital.

Keynes also forecast a changing attitude to wealth.
[…] When the accumulation of wealth is no longer of high social importance, there will be great changes in the code of morals. We shall be able to rid ourselves of many of the pseudo-moral principles which have hag-ridden us for two hundred years, by which we have exalted some of the most distasteful of human qualities into the position of highest virtues. We shall be able to afford to dare to assess the money-motive at its true value. The love of money as a possession – as distinguished from the love of money as a means to the enjoyments and realities of life – will be recognised for what it is: a somewhat disgusting morbidity, one of those semi-criminal, semi-pathological propensities which one hands over with a shudder to the specialists in mental disease. All kinds of social customs and economic practices, affecting the distribution of wealth and of economic rewards and penalties, which we now maintain at all costs, however distasteful and unjust they may be in themselves, because they are tremendously useful in promoting the accumulation of capital, we shall then be free, at last, to discard.
J.M.K. Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren (1930) Essays in Persuasion Ch.5, 2

There has been an increasing stigmatisation of the richest one per cent of the population, but Bill Gates, Warren Buffet et al. are still fascinating and popular icons, notwithstanding their “semi-criminal, semi-pathological propensities”. The glamour of wealth is still an aspiration propagated by corporate media, and the social media counter-culture is largely contaminated. This continuing glorification of wealth has accompanied the persistence of poverty and the growing divide between the two. The demand for investments has outstripped supply. But, instead of going to deprived communities, the excess is being destroyed by stock market gambling and by negative returns. Capital growth has reached its limits, and the exploitation of labour has intensified. Keynes’ logic was justified, but his rosy vision of the future was flawed. Humans are still largely preoccupied either by physical survival or by owning more than their neighbours.

1. Global regulators proposed tougher standards for clearinghouses at the heart of the $493 trillion derivatives market, taking some of the biggest steps yet to prevent the platforms from becoming too big to fail.

Tuesday, August 02, 2016

Serving the one per cent



Goods and services are exchanged for money, which pays production costs, salaries and profits. Added together these exchanges make up a nation’s produce, but the proportionate balance of goods and services has changed considerably over time. Classic economists, from Quesnay to Marx and beyond, argued that the only wealth produced had the material form of goods, that service providers did not add wealth but partook in the wealth produced by others. At the time, 18th and 19th centuries, a large portion of the urban working class was employed as domestic servants – an estimated 1.9 million in Victorian England – while lawyers, doctors and teachers also provided the upper classes. Services were just part of a bourgeois household’s consumption.

The social upheavals and wars that shook Western society in the first half of the 20th century all but eliminated domestic employment. By mid-century middle-class housewives were managing chores on their own, assisted by electrical appliances such as washing machines and vacuum-cleaners. Instead of overseeing servants, they were left on their own. This isolation could be resolved by a “mother’s little helper”, but many women chose to grapple with the wider world, in universities, businesses and employment. Gender equality became a major political battle that overshadowed social and racial disparities. Meanwhile economic theory had changed attitude and had integrated services into the production of wealth.

Services are immaterial and goods are made up of matter, but the two are often combined. A doctor, for example, will make an immaterial diagnostic which involves the taking of a material medicine. This led to a sort of scale, with “pure” goods at one end, “pure” services at the other, and a varying mix in between. Notwithstanding this ambiguity, around three quarters of the wealth produced in developed countries is now attributed to services. In fact, economic growth in these countries over the past four decades has been largely due to the fast expansion of services, notably financial and personal services, looking after people’s money and lives. Vast sums had accumulated to provision insurance and pensions, and women were qualifying for all jobs. The result was a lot of lending to keep money circulating, and countless domestic employees to replace absent housewives.

The model middle-class home of fifty years ago has disappeared, and stay-at-home parents, male or female, have become curiosities. But the presence of women in the work-place has not doubled household incomes, because of strong gender disparities and because salaries in general have contracted. The post-WW2 middle-class had benefited from the wild growth rates of the 1950s and 60s. It increased in numbers and proportional wealth, thanks to productivity, global dominion and the survival of wartime egalitarianism. This changed with the war in Vietnam, OPEC, Women’s Liberation and Black Power, dropping out, etc. In Europe, the pre-war elites had compromised themselves with fascist regimes. As a class they had lost the war twice, in 1940 and in 1945. Their defeat opened up social mobility, and allowed a rapid expansion of the middle-classes. But the 1970s fractured the ideal beyond repair.

With hindsight, the late 1960s and early 1970s were a turning point (they felt quite revolutionary at the time). The war and post-war social and industrial model had run its course. Mass production, mass media, homogeneity, and drab black and white, were confronted by individuality, diversity and a blaze of colours. Pressured by technology the world had to change, and it did. But in stepping forward, it seems to have stepped back. Thomas Piketty has pointed out that wealth distribution in developed countries is comparable to what it was at the end of the 19th century: a few very rich people, a lot of working poor and not much in between. The middle-classes stopped their expansion in the 1970s, and their numbers have been shrinking for the past decade or so. It began as a rebellion against the nine-to-five office job in private or public administration, against a pointless and brutal war in South-East Asia, against all sorts of discrimination, against a morality shaped by religious prejudice, against a power structure that was completely redundant, against black or white, and for a rainbow nation. The empire resisted the onslaught. It hired public relations specialists to change its image and presented a new liberal facade, but the middle-classes were moribund. The levelling project born in the uniformity of total war had failed because it was dull and grey, and because mechanical processes were being replaced by electronic ones. The mind-set of coal and steel could not apply to a world of plastics and processors.

The access to middle-class jobs by middle-class women improved gender equality, but it was also a loss of status. After all, working-class women had been toiling away at disparaged and demeaning work for most of recorded history. Being employed meant that middle-class women abandoned the role of household goddess comforting homecoming harassed bread-winners. Couples became partners and domestic chores were outsourced. This new female work-force provoked a surge in the services sector. Middle-class women were employed in banking, retailing and education, while their absence from home meant hiring a variety of domestic workers. The movement of women joining the corporate and professional rat-race and breaking “glass ceilings” was a profound cultural change, as well as an economic re-composition. The service sector’s expansion was the result of doubling the potential work-force, outsourcing manufacturing and an increasing demand for care and upkeep. And it was all profitable for employers.

A global bi-gender workforce strengthened the competition for jobs, across borders for manufacturing and internally for services. It was a great opportunity to cut labour costs. So factories were moved abroad to “developing” countries, and middle-class households were finding that their living standard with two salaries was no better, or worse, than it had been previously with just one salary. Housing was more expensive, children’s education was a financial burden and working incomes had stagnated, reaping no profit from the increase in wealth production. The middle-classes have been contracting for a while – the brief Yuppie revival twenty years ago did not outlive the millennium, and the millennial generation is struggling not to be déclassé – and this contraction is polarising society.

The middle-classes are a buffer between capital and labour. They accept, partake in and propagate capitalist ideology, with some social and material advantages, and they provide the models for working-class aspirations. They are the backbone of the electoral machine and its semblance of democracy. Their ongoing destruction by shrinking incomes and debts will push the contradiction between labour and capital into the spot light. And, as it did a century ago, capital is reacting by hiring more mercenaries and expressing belligerence. The service economy has the 99% serving the 1% and its hirelings, but precedents show that the levels of violence needed to maintain that imbalance quickly escalate and get out of hand. Capitalism functions most effectively with confident and affluent middle-classes, but its fundamental mechanism of infinite accumulation opposes egalitarian social structures. The middle-classes are the produce of capitalism, of entrepreneurship and social mobility, but capitalism must ultimately swallow them. Expansion, with growing markets and new technology, ends up in concentration and corporate might, in rising debts and middle-class servitude. This concentration phase is only interrupted by a new expansion. Something that might be somewhere over the horizon, but considering the size of today’s concentration, it will be hard put to have a significant global impact. The process seems condemned to continue until it brings about a complete institutional breakdown, and no one can foretell what will happen then.