30 November 2010

In political economy, politics comes first

Pure economic theory is about as useful to understanding economic policy as Newtonian physics is to understanding a bird in flight. The bird is subject to the same forces and constraints as, say, a stone of equivalent mass--but unlike a stone, a bird can change its own course. So with political economy. The starkest laws of economics--opportunity costs, the general propensity for diminishing marginal returns, the determination of outcomes by the mutually influencing strategies of players in games--always apply, but real-world agents often act in ways that the theory, as usually applied, does not quite predict.

Recent developments in Europe have brought this lesson home. For people of my generation, who remember the period between the fall of the Soviet empire and the fall of the Twin Towers with crystal clarity, the Washington consensus attained something of the status of divine write. Good governance may have been difficult to establish, but it was at once straightforward and persistent. All a government had to do was let the rule of law take hold, establish some private property rights, and hold some elections and, presto, you've reached the end of history.

In the past decade, each of these recommendations and a host of corollaries has been shown to be either vastly difficult than assumed or actively counterproductive. (To take just one example, international relations theorists now argue that although democratic countries are less likely to go to war among themselves, democratizing countries are much more bellicose than the run-of-the-mill authoritarian state. Think for a second what that implies for a democratizing PRC.) One measure of this shift is what I like to call the Friedman Index, which is a measure of the fraction of Serious People who take Tom Friedman seriously. By all indications, the Friedman Index is a trailing measure that peaked sometime around 2005. Among NYT columnists, it is Krugman, not Friedman, who now speaks for the professional elite of the East Coast, with the prominent exception of the current occupant of the Oval Office. And Krugman, for obvious reasons, is hardly in thrall to the quantitative mystique in which economists have clad themselves over the past generation.

Which draws us back to Ireland. Conventional political economists have sought to explain the Irish example by looking at past IMF interventions and focusing on the narrow (but important) questions of how such international institutions allow states to credibly bind themselves to necessary but draconian actions they would otherwise be unable to sustain. (See, for instance, The Monkey Cage.) But this analysis is badly misguided, since it ignores the rather obvious point that the states now threatened by financial contagion have options that the Asian currency crisis countries did not. European states are massively wealthier and more influential than Thailand or Indonesia; unlike Jakarta and Bangkok, Paris and Berlin can simply rewrite the rules to benefit the bulk of their citizens who are not international creditors.

Would they? I expect they will. An editorial from the Irish Times suggests why:
IT MAY seem strange to some that The Irish Times would ask whether this is what the men of 1916 died for: a bailout from the German chancellor with a few shillings of sympathy from the British chancellor on the side. There is the shame of it all. Having obtained our political independence from Britain to be the masters of our own affairs, we have now surrendered our sovereignty to the European Commission, the European Central Bank, and the International Monetary Fund. ... The Irish people do not need to be told that, especially for small nations, there is no such thing as absolute sovereignty. We know very well that we have made our independence more meaningful by sharing it with our European neighbours. We are not naive enough to think that this State ever can, or ever could, take large decisions in isolation from the rest of the world. What we do expect, however, is that those decisions will still be our own. A nation’s independence is defined by the choices it can make for itself.
I would not be surprised if the Irish government at some point in the next six months breaks its most recent commitments to Brussels and M. Strauss-Kahn. I fully expect that whatever "punishment" is meted out to Ireland to that transgression will be forgotten within a decade. Equally, I expect the eurozone to do what everyone believed was impossible as recently as seven or eight months ago: to shrink to the point where it is an actual optimal currency area, which is to say that it will probably be Germany, France, Benelux, and some German quasi-possessions on its borders (Austria, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia).

A social science that proceeds inductively from a limited wealth of experience will miss the really important shifts. Generalizing from the international arrangements that governed the world economy over the past sixty years to the actions we can expect influential actors to take in the next decade is wrong-headed. It is time, instead, to begin preparing both scholars and policymakers to be ready for a world in which defaults are policy tools, states reassert their primacy over economics, and protectionism is put back on the table.

Number One for November 30, 2010

I love her and she loves everyone:

  • Richard Lugar, liberal maverick -- NYT
  • Grand strategy is a crock -- Drezner
  • Grand strategy is a crock -- Krasner
  • Humans are getting fatter. But so are animals that live near humans -- Stross
  • Markets say there will be a Portugal default. Didn't markets also once say that U.S. housing values could never decline? -- Salmon
  • Good teacher, bad teacher: It doesn't matter. The kids will forget what teachers say. "Why make the poor kids suffer if they won't retain what they learn anyway?" -- Caplan
  • Why measures of central tendency give a distorted view of legal earnings -- Empirical Legal Studies
  • The tragic death of this blog -- Technologizer
  • Alan Moore's never-written DC saga: "one of the things that prevents superhero stories from ever attaining the status of true modern myths or legends is that they are open ended." Four-Color Heroes

Reel Big Fish, "Scott's a Dork"

21 August 2010

Number One for 21-22 August 2010

Thought we were so grown up:

  • Why pick on nerds? [Overcoming Bias]
  • Why nerds are unpopular [Paul Graham]
  • Obama and gay marriage: A case study in ambition [The New Republic]
  • What's more valuable: a college or a stereo? [The New Republic]
  • When did the infovore evolve? [Mother Jones]
  • Eric Schmidt, creeper [Daring Fireball]
  • How to become an expert [Dan Drezner]
Kate Nash, "Merry Happy"

20 August 2010

Don't mention the war

WHO WINS WARS? There is the hippie answer--"No one, man." There is the Machtpolitik answer--"The strongest." And there is the thoughtful answer, which is contextual.

Consider the Second World War. Everyone knows the Allies won. But judging from the representation of the war in British memory you would find at least as many instances in which it is not altogether obvious that London was among the victors. 1984, famously, projected the material deprivations of London 1948 into the future; it was as much a work of observation as of speculation. And the weird nature of the postwar settlement made it hard for ordinary Britons to gloat about their role in winning the "good war":



By "winning" we can mean two things. The first is a question of contributions: Without X strategy or Y materiel, would the war had been won? The counterfactual then takes the form of "Had the U.S.S.R. not entered the war, would the U.K. and the U.S.A. not won?" or "Had the Western Allies made a separate peace in 1940, would the U.S.S.R. have defeated Nazi Germany?" These questions are impossible to answer for certain, but we can make a plausible case. In this instance, it becomes more plausible to argue for a solo Soviet victory, and even more for a solo Soviet near-loss, than for a joint Anglo-American victory or for a solo Anglo victory or near-loss. In this sense, then, it is meaningful to talk of the Soviet Union "winning" the war.

The more important sense is that of outcomes. Who in the international system benefited the most from the international environment at the war's end compared to their position at the war's beginning? This focus on relative power accords with most theorizing about the international system. A player who goes from having 10 percent of the distribution of power to 50 percent is strictly better off, regardless if the size of the pie has shrunk.

An alternative definition of winning, of course, would simply assert that the top-ranked player at the end of the period won. That is inadequate. It implies that a hegemon could engage in a costly, pointless battle, lose every engagement and waste scads of money, and yet still "win" simply because they didn't lose enough to become the second-ranked player.

As a corollary, I should note that it is much easier to identify the losers of a war: anyone who moves down the relative or ordinal league tables. The greatest loser, however, need not be the player who fell the farthest; here, losing the top spot and falling to second place may be much worse than falling from 25th place to 100th, given a flat distribution of powers (the familiar "long tail" effect).

There are three ways to measure changes in relative power. The first is strictly relative: Who arithmetically gained the most? A player that increases from 20 percent to 40 percent has probably gained more than anyone else in the system. This leads to the second definition: the moment at which changes in relative power lead to qualitative changes in the organization of the international system. The United States entered the Second World War as the largest power in a multipolar world; it exited the conflict the hegemon in a uni- or bipolar system. A system shift is a major consequence, and a system shift in your favor surely counts as a different category of "win."

I argue there is a third kind of victory: the relative proportion of relative gains. That is to say, in the universe where player A goes from a 20 to a 40 percent share as a consequence of war, he has doubled his share of power in the system; but if player B goes from a 2 percent share to a 10 percent share, they have quintupled theirs. Assuming that the structure of the system has not changed (that is, that A is not a unipole), I contend that player B is also a winner, and in some ways even more of a winner than A, since they have produced gains more efficiently.

Consider the Korean War. Arguably, the United States won; definitely, the North Koreans lost a lot and the South Koreans lost a little bit (in the short run). But I contend the real winner was the Mao regime, who was left with a firmer position at home and abroad.

Here are some other Startling Propositions which, as Dean Acheson would say, are clearer than the truth:
  1. Japan was the real winner of World War I. It managed to eliminate its major security threat (the USSR), marginalize its principal offshore competitor (the UK), and make major gains in China at low cost to itself.
  2. Southern poor whites were the real losers of World War II. The real winners? Northern industrialists.
  3. The real winner of the Seven Years' War was the United States of America. The real loser was Britain.
  4. Actually, the United States really did win the Spanish-American War.
  5. The winners of the Mexican War were Southern plantation owners. This was recognized at the time but bears repeating.
So many wars, so many revisionist papers. Who really won the Napoleonic Wars? Who really lost the War of the Spanish Succession? And so on. But one thing is clear provocative: The Communist Chinese regime also won the Cold War.

Number One for 20 August 2010

I don't have a single thing planned for today:
Pizzicato Five, "Such a beautiful girl like you"

18 August 2010

Number One for 18 August 2010

I'm not a fashionista or a consumerist:

Simona Molinari, "Egocentrica":

17 August 2010

Life is an application

Even William of Orange had to apply for jobs.
For years, one of the most important file folders on my computer has been called "Application Hell." Every resume, cover letter, portfolio, and list of recommenders I have sent to grad schools and employers for most of the past decade is in there (as well as some college application essays, just for the hell of it).

Applying for things is hateful. Nearly everyone hates being a salesman, and even practiced salesmen hate selling themselves. Yet the nature of modern life is that salesmanship is an essential skill. At the moment, I am collecting emails from people interested in taking a room in the house I share, and it is clear that they are treating the process for what it really is: an application-and-interview process no less irritating or important than a job search.

Why do we hate talking about ourselves? Even my most successful friends loathe writing cover letters or resumes. More to the point, even my friends who enjoy talking about themselves in any other context will postpone writing applications until the last possible moment, and when they do produce one it will be listless and ashamed.

There are three strategies to cope with applications. The first is to be a narcissistic sociopath:



But that path has some drawbacks.

The second is to have someone else write your application. (I know at least one professor who took this route; it worked not least because the spouse who wrote the tenure packet was an academic as well.) When this works, it works great, but it requires the other person to know you well and also to know how to handle applications--which is a rare combination.

The third is to grit your teeth and do it. Grit your teeth, not gnash them, because there is no use raging, raging against the writing of the C.V. It is trivially easy to spend more time complaining about the unfairness of a universe that requires such a noisy filter for matching people with jobs, roommates, and Match.com hookups than actually writing an application.

The good news is that it gets easier to write these applications with time, if for no other reason than that you have a well-stocked "Application Hell" folder of your own. The bad news is that it never feels any easier.

Number One for 17 August 2010

In a round of decades three stages stand out in a loop
  • Sorry to miss posting yesterday. Playing with the puppy took up a bit more free time than I'd expected.
  • There are many ways to waste time if you use Gmail. [Lifehacker, Simple Productivity, AlphaGeek, Best of the Web]
  • The grad school version mentions coping with neuroses [EHow]
  • Charlie Stross asks: What's the next bubble? My answer: AI. [Charles Stross]
  • Drezner says enough about Cordoba House as a threat to America; enough about saying critics of Cordoba House are threats to America [Dan Drezner]
  • Kevin Drum says not so fast [Calpundit]

14 August 2010

Number One for 14-15 August 2010

Your lies have spoiled two confessions:

Inara George, "Genius." This blog's Official Theme Song. (Or, given the theme of this blog, I should say this blog's anthem.)

13 August 2010

Number One for 13 August 2010

I walk the line like Johnny Cash:

Plushgun, "Just Impolite"