What to do with our magic money tree

Governments are not households. Governments can – with the threat of their monopoly use of violence – invent taxes that people have to pay; households can’t. Governments can change bank regulations such that banks effectively have to buy their debts; households can’t. Monetary sovereigns like the United Kingdom can invent brand new money to pay their bills; households can’t.*

But if governments can invent brand new money to pay their bills, why do they bother inventing taxes or borrowing at all? Inventing money sounds a lot easier than taxing people so it’s worth asking why more governments don’t just do it. More specifically, what are the arguments against the United Kingdom engaging in monetary financing? Or, in the parlance of British politics, why not use the actual real life magic money tree that definitely does exist despite the protestations of our leaders?

One argument against tapping the magic money tree is the illegality of so doing under the Maastrict Treaty. But given the successful efforts of Brexiteers, this looks soon to be irrelevant as we exit the European Union and Take Back Control.

A second answer that lots of people yell is Zimbabwe.

To be fair, pretty much *everyone* agrees that monetary financing budget deficits is very problematic when *too big*. It’s just that no one can quite agree what *too big* means. In extremis, monetary finance will certainly threaten/ destroy monetary stability. But plenty of countries have deployed monetary financing without collapsing into hyperinflation. Hyperinflation is something that tends to be associated with the collapse of a state’s ability to project power within its borders (with an unclear direction of causality!) rather than simple monetary financing. Indeed, of the 152 countries for which the IMF researched the central bank legal framework in 2012, 101 permitted monetary financing. Hyperinflation has not been quite so widespread.

However, we run into trouble way before we get to Zimbabwe. And while I’m planning to return to this issue with a bit more nuance in the future, I think we can imagine the sort of trouble that might lie ahead with a very basic hand-wavy thought experiment.

When there is unused slack in the economy – people unemployed or underemployed, idle hospitals, schools, factories, offices etc – the government can run budget deficits, spend money and deploy these unused resources without generating cost-push inflation. This is not contentious. The counterpart to this budget deficit will be either new claims on government (assets in the form of bonds for folks with a low propensity to spend to switch their money into), or brand new money plucked from the magic money tree.** Both forms of fiscal stimulus create demand and use up economic slack. Yay! Adair Turner reckons that a pound imagined into existence by the government and spent would likely be more stimulative than a pound borrowed from folks who can afford to save, and I’m not going to quibble with him on this. But even advocates of monetary finance like Turner worry out loud that maybe it might become too tempting for politicians to restrain themselves from inventing more and more money as elections draw close.

However, rather than retread these worries let’s think about the political difficulties attached to *unwinding* these differently funded fiscal stimuli.

It’s pretty simple (when times are good) for politicians to make the case that we should prudently pay down debt (delivering a fiscal tightening). Blair and Brown did it. Clinton did it. Even though governments are *not* households, people generally think that they are near enough the same thing (they’re not) that such a line resonates.

The politics of unwinding monetary financing look harder. If governments invent new money when times are bad (delivering a fiscal stimulus), I think it would be tricky to sell the message when the economy improves that things are just so great that taxes need to rise to fund a big bonfire of money (delivering a fiscal tightening). I can’t prove it, but I think that ordinary (voting) people would get very cross about this idea, maybe cross enough to vote out the idiots trying to set light their money. Someone might even suggest that instead of a money bonfire, maybe taxes shouldn’t rise at all. Or maybe the tax proceeds could be used to build something that most folks might agree is needed at any given time – a new school, hospital, bridge, or something else that involves bidding real life people away from what they would otherwise be doing into some particular government-directed endeavour. But the whole point about raising taxes in this scenario would be to unwind the prospectively inflationary impact of an economy running at full tilt – precisely the sort of thing that comes from trying to build a new bridge when everyone is fully-employed already.

Some folks reckon that the whole point if monetary finance is defeated if you articulate its reversibility, and so concern about unwind is not only premature but completely misses the point. But it seems quite possible that absent a well-articulated exit strategy, folks in financial markets will infer that any future tightening will need to come through tighter monetary policy than the counterfactual pushing interest rates up.

And so while governments are *not* households, the household budget constraint *doesn’t* apply, there definitely absolutely really *is* a magic money tree, (and the problems of governance are not necessarily insoluble), it is not clear that this insight solves as many problems as one might hope.

PS: The brilliant people at Planet Money have done a podcast on this subject which is *much* better than this blog – do listen! Since I pulled a muscle and stopped running my podcast consumption has dropped so it’s only now (as finishing) the blog that I caught up on it. I thought about just tweeting the link to their show instead of hitting post on this blog but didn’t as they don’t quite get into the politics of unwinding monetary finance which I thought might be of interest.

* OK, crypto. Maybe even stock. I’ll deal with this another time.

** Many will argue that money is a claim on government, as a form of tradable deferred tax obligations. Ok, fine. But putting that in the middle of my otherwise semi-readable paragraph isn’t hugely helpful.

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Second thoughts on miniBOTs

I generally operate on the principle that if people can show me how I’ve misunderstood something I will take that as a win. If they can do this without making me feel a complete fool, that’s an unnecessary but welcome bonus.

After blogging a couple of early (fairly negative) thoughts about miniBOTs yesterday, I had a bit of feedback. What followed was a brief epiphany during which I realised I was wrong and miniBOTs could actually be an awesome idea.

The epiphany was based on the notion that if there is slack in the Italian economy (which there surely is), and that this slack could be engaged without crowding out the private sector by the government doing generally helpful-to-long-term-human-goals-sort-of-stuff (again, likely true). This could be upgrading infrastructure, developing human capital, regional/ sectoral development financing, that sort of thing. And (importantly) the financing vehicle – miniBOTS – could be used by the government in a manner that was revenue-neutral or even revenue-accretive.

It would work like this:

  • Step 1: government puts out tender for xyz contract, payable in a certain value of miniBOTs;
  • Step 2: contractors bid for and win contract, then sell miniBOTs to folks owing large back-taxes at a discount.
  • Step 3: government collects back-taxes (and/ or taxes on the grey/ black economy that now steps into the sunlight with lower effective tax rates) that were otherwise lost. So debt doesn’t actually rise.

Reckoning that miniBOTs might trade sub-par (because, you know, some other government might turn up and think the whole idea was a bit whacko and stop accepting them as taxes in lieu of euros), contractors would probably want a few more miniBOTs than plain old euros for a given job, implying a financing yield (in terms the ratio of miniBOTs to Euros, or rather discount to par).* In other words, I believe that this new good-for-Italy-using-up-slack expenditure would cost more in miniBOTs than it would otherwise have done in plain euros.

But costing more miniBOTs than euros could be okay if a) it deploys slack productively; b) it is making investments that are possible that would have been impossible without miniBOTs, and; c) would ultimately be financed by gathering back-taxes/ black economy taxes. (The folks owing back-taxes buy the miniBOTs because – now there is a discount to par value of a potentially temporary nature – it costs them less, and they seize their chance.)

So rather than being an interesting money thing, it could actually be a bit of an elaborate tax amnesty/ tax cut in which government contractors also get a little richer than they otherwise might.

However, this epiphany lasted only 53 seconds.

My mind had sort of taken a temporary leave of absence, and I’d forgotten Gresham’s Law: the idea that bad money drives out good.

In other words the miniBOTs get bought by ordinary folk at the point at which they pay their taxes (and they then deliver them to government in lieu of euros), and there is no reason why back-taxes/ black economy taxes ever get touched.

The government still has to pay more miniBOTs than euros for stuff (because otherwise why would people take them) and legit taxpayers would buy them at a price below par (because otherwise why bother). And so the whole thing becomes self-defeating as miniBOTs collect in the Italian treasury rather than among the population as a whole, who prefer to amass monetary assets in euros unless tempted by discounts to par (and hence higher implied financing rates for the state) on miniBOTs. (And the scheme introduces scope for political favours to be awarded to connected contractors who might even repay this political debt through future party funding.)

Meanwhile, the Commission would likely look at miniBOTs as debt (because selling future receivables look very much like debt, as any credit card receivable securitization analyst will tell you), and given they look to be zero-coupon, would likely see them as tradable to next put date (see footnote), which is to say having very short term structure no matter how irredeemable they profess to be.

There is a second way that miniBOTs are interesting, and that is as an asset conjured our of nothing that has value to people in such a way as to create demand for a permanent stock (eg, a currency). In such a light, the scheme looks pretty identical to the creation of a new form of Outside Money, but as a Chartalist myself I think that for it to actually properly work the state would need to require the payment of taxes in miniBOTs rather than simply accept the payment of taxes in miniBOTs. In accepting rather than requiring, we get back into Gresham’s Law problems: the miniBOTs would need to have an implicit financing cost. And because of this the state would endure a weaker fiscal position than it would otherwise have (paying more miniBOTs than it would have needed to pay euros, but receiving back an equal number of miniBOTs to the number of euros it would otherwise have received in tax revenue). If the state chose to only accept taxes in the form of miniBOTs this changes things. But I think that this then touches on the legal tender issues discussed in the previous blog.

I’m still up for being persuaded of their merits. And if I wanted to shoe-horn Italians out of the Euro without actually bothering to make and win the case with them that this was what they would be doing (stirring up a fight with Brussels, maybe demonizing them along the way to the domestic population), miniBOTs seem a reasonable thing to introduce.

Absent this motivation, I still can’t see these merits right now. There could be a decent portion of folks who reckon a tax amnesty or tax cut would be self-funding. I know there is a decent minority of the population who think that Italy should leave the Euro. Advocates of these positions should make their case without engaging in bait and switch tactics.

Chances are you’ve thought about this more than me. If you can communicate simply and coherently why miniBOTs make senses in a way that doesn’t involve leaving the Euro please blog it (in English, sorry).

* It has been put to me that miniBOTs won’t have a term (ie a date at which they will necessarily turn into euros) and so my whole blog is somewhat off-base. But if I bought an irredeemable zero coupon euro-denominated security that was puttable at par, I would consider the term to be the first put date, and then measure its yield as a function of the discount to par and distance from par. (To get a bit more technical the first put date is the date at which it is advantageous for the holder to put the securities to the issuer, and this will actually depend on the price of all of the other securities on that issuer’s yield curve as well as the put date). I can’t think why anyone else (including the Commission) would not do the same.

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Update: the Bank of Italy has put out a PDF with their initial take on miniBOTs. It is the clearest thing I have read, and I was surprised and delighted that it did not contradict my understanding as conveyed in this blogpost and it’s predecessor.

Quick thoughts on mini-BOTs

So everyone in London has got excited about mini-BOTs – Italy’s prospective parallel currency after Munchau on Monday and then Dizard today have written about them in the FT.

A quick recap:

  • Italy has been a growth laggard (average GDP growth since 2004 has been 0%, although there has been steady slow growth since 2014), and has high levels of debt (c.130% of GDP).
  • March 4 saw the Italians go to the polls. Conventional wisdom saw the outcome as a likely stalemate unless the right-wing populist Lega Nord (the League) and the left-wing populist Five-Star Party could come together in coalition. As someone on Twitter put it, this would be like imagining the audience of BBC Question Time putting aside their differences and forming a government.
  • Five Star wants things like a Universal Income; The League wants things like flat taxes. In each party’s mind their own favoured policies probably pay for themselves with an exploding renaissance of growth. In everyone else’s minds (including each others) these policies probably lead to an exploding renaissance of debt issuance.

So there is this idea kicking around that they fund their wish-lists not by issuing currency (which they can’t do because the ECB is the monetary sovereign), and not by issuing bonds (which I guess they reckon the markets won’t like and the Commission will get prissy about as it will break all manner of rules). Instead they want to issue mini-BOTs – small-bill government debt that looks and feels very like Euro notes. And look and feel very much like money.

But would mini-BOTs be money?

They don’t look like they would be legal tender. But this might not be a big deal. Legal tender is a pretty narrow legal definition. My basic understanding is that it means something that law courts understand as being unlawful to refuse in payment of a debt. And in the Euro area, the Commission is pretty blunt about how only the euro is legal tender here. They also (helpfully) explain that although non-official (euro) currencies “have no legal tender status, parties can agree to use them as private money without prejudice to the official currency”.

In the UK we use lots of things as money that have no status as legal tender. Scottish and Northern Irish banknotes are not actually legal tender. Furthermore, 1p and 2p coins are legal tender for sums only below 20p, 50p coins are legal tender for sums not exceeding £10.

This isn’t the first time we have seen this sort of thing. Even in Italy there is some precedent for creatively using local currencies that are backed by state obligations as a currency, albeit at a local level. This nice story via Lorcan Roche Kelly tells of a local community that introduced a local currency that was backed by state debts. In fact, it looks in many ways to be a municipal version of mini-BOTS which provided credit to the local government and liquidity to the local economy.

But governments don’t usually do this sort of thing unless they are in trouble. So the signalling is pretty terrible.

  • Argentina issued one-year small-bill bonds (nicknamed Patacones) to its civil servants in a short-lived effort to keep its currency pegged to the US dollar. These were widely accepted (at a discount to US dollars) and McDonalds quickly launched their Patacombo meal. Patacones could be used to settle tax obligations with the state, just like mini-BOTs.
  • California issued state IOUs under Schwartzenegger in 2009 in a similar effort to cover its gaping budget holes, just as it had in 1992 and 1993. These IOUs were paid to vendors doing business with the state as federal law prohibit IOUs to state employees. I don’t know whether there is any European Directive that prohibits Eurozone countries from doing the same but somehow I doubt it. California didn’t turn out too bad? Well, banks only accepted these IOUs for five days before closing down this option according to wiki. The California Budget crisis rolled on until both spending was cut and taxes (and university tuition costs) were raised, as well as the rebound in the (national) economy that boosted tax takes.

Despite this, mini-BOTs might actually qualify as money by the rules of some monetary bean-counters (depending on their term). Whether they were used as a unit of account would determine where they sat in my Venn. Mini-BOTs would look and feel like money, but if they have a term to them (a date at which they can be redeemed for actual euros) I reckon that they just have just a lot of euro-moneyness.

In fact, they would likely turn out to be a strong reminder that the Italian state is not the monetary sovereign, and the subject of a big fight in Brussels as the Commission (rightfully IMHO) called them out as debt which would need to be included in Eurozone-specific debt numbers. And it is the prospect of this incipient fight that is roiling markets.

Moneyness of betting tips

In a gently mocking (but good-natured) tone, Lorcan Roche Kelly asked me yesterday (rhetorically) how much moneyness I thought a tip on the horses had. Answering rhetorical questions tends to win few friends, but I think it is an interesting one.

As background, money tends to be thought of as the stuff that functionally happens to satisfy three conditions: serving as store of value, unit of account, and medium of exchange. I still quite like this old Venn I made for a talk I gave on money:

In a conventional monetary aggregate sense, definitions of money vary from jurisdiction to jurisdiction, and within jurisdiction over time. The grey shaded sections in the two tables below show how UK M4 and Eurozone M3 monetary aggregates are defined and differ at a high level.

So, for example, UK households’ deposits with agencies of the UK central government don’t count as money to a UK monetary bean-counter, while Eurozone household deposits with agencies of Eurozone central governments do count as money to Eurozone monetary bean-counters. To someone less interested in counting monetary beans this seems a bit silly, but follows from having to draw the line somewhere – and the Bank give a nice primer on this here.

If you reflect that there are many many shades of grey, the appeal of an approach that recognises the extent of this gradation is significant. Hence the attraction of moneyness.

I think that maybe all Stuff apart from notes, coins and bank reserves administered by the central bank (ie, the stuff that sits in the part of the Venn that takes medium of exchange and store of value) has some money-like quality, however tiny, and that this portion of its value is its moneyness.

I like to think that the moneyness of a thing as being some function of its duration, creditworthiness and secondary market liquidity.

So I consider a small sight deposit in a highly creditable bank to have near full moneyness. A bond due to be repaid in thirteen months by a monetary sovereign (eg, UK government) would also (in my understanding, although not in a monetarist’s sense) have very high amounts of moneyness. The amount of moneyness would be lower for debts with more distant maturities, although longer-dated securities’ moneyness can be bolstered by the degree to which they are accepted and can be borrowed against as high quality collateral. Changing collateral haircut schedules in repo flowing from a change in view from a credit rating agency or central bank can quickly change the moneyness attached to long-duration instruments; changing secondary market liquidity conditions or changing regulations regarding rehypothecation could also be a big deal for aggregate moneyness. Shadow-banking folk have been banging on about this (perhaps using different terms) for years.

So, back to Lorcan’s dig. I actually think it is a genius of a question because it takes things to an extreme (the moneyness not even of a betting slip but of a betting tip!).

The tip in question was for Circus Couture, which was offered at 12/1 on the 4:20 at Ascot. According to our tipster these odds were far too good. Maybe 4/1 was fair. Is there moneyness attached to this tip? Sounds silly, but let’s take it apart.

We can think of a betting slip as a really really short-dated super-high yield ultra-junky bond. A 12/1 outsider is like a zero coupon bond offered at 7.70 and maturing the same day at par. If the bid-offer spread that is the raisin d’etre of bookmaking did not exist, there was perfect liquidity in this choice market and the odds were stable I can see that there is a case to be made that the slips value would be close to its moneyness at somewhere close to 7.7% of par. This recognizes for the market a role in altering the moneyness of contracts as information develops, and this strikes me as a not unreasonable characterization of real life.

But no-one bets on a horse based on the view that the odds are fair. A bookie’s whole business model is to get on the inverse of punter-facing odds to extract a steadyish return for services rendered, and this is hardly a secret. And I think punters walks into a betting shop seeking excess returns (as well as leisure services), and am not sure they are even risk-neutral. So I wonder to what degree the moneyness of the betting slip (and, actually, the moneyness of any credit security) should not be discounted using a rate higher than that used to value it to account not only for the perceived risk of pay-off, but also the uncertainty of pay-off. (There is probably a big literature on how financial markets proxy uncertainty as risk so that they can get it into models, but I haven’t sought it out.)

Moving on to the tip itself, if I put a bet on Circus Couture with the view that 4/1 was the fair price, this would be akin to buying a bond at 7.70 with a view that the fair price was 20. The value of the tip to me and anyone who believes the tipster is around 12.3 cents in the dollar. But the moneyness of the tip is zero, precisely because it accounts for my differences with the market.

I think this is just be a long way of saying that a tip is not ‘Stuff’, so it has no moneyness in the framework I set out. But given that money is a medium by which subjective views as to what value constitutes is triangulated (on a monetary wealth X conviction-weighted basis) *as well as a thing*, it feels weird to say that each and every of the individual subjective views that together coagulate into a market price are themselves without measurable worth (or measurable moneyness). Or rather that the worth of each view corresponds precisely to its market impact (the degree to which it moves the market price), and any account of moneyness that includes market price will be correspondingly impacted.

This leads me to the view that a good betting tip* (that is ultimately right) has no moneyness even if a bad betting slip (attached to an ultimately losing horse) does (prior to the race!). But if there was a way to securitize betting tips…

* In the end the tip was bad – the horse came in fifth – so maybe zero worth

Why Debt is both Interesting and Important

Yesterday the Resolution Foundations launched a report on Household Debt in the UK. It is, as one would expect of them, excellent. I was on the panel at its launch and had a chance to say a few words. I had prepared bullet points to guide me, and at the suggestion of Tony Yates have typed these into actual sentences, adding also a couple of footnotes and a chart to give a bit more substance to comments that might in retrospect have lacked context. I spoke for nine minutes, and you can actually watch the whole event (including very good presentations by Matt Whittaker, Jan Vlieghe and Sian Williams) here.

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Debt is a web of contracts that binds our social and economic lives together. As such, household debt is not only interesting, but important. Its importance can be seen at a very human level, and bodies like Toynbee Hall do great work in ensuring that the profile of this very human aspect to debt is rightly prominent. But it is important also to our understanding of the macroeconomy, the stability of the financial system, and our understanding of the nature of monetary policy.

Discussing household debt is a strange thing to do at an aggregate level. By this I mean that it makes absolutely no sense to think about it as if it was attached to a representative household. Evenly distributed in a closed economy, no level of debt is unsustainable or unserviceable. But, evenly distributed, debt is also functionless.*

Another complication in thinking about household debt from a representative household perspective is that – unlike a household – changes in savings rates and gross debt, while individually important for activity, are entirely unrelated at an aggregate level.** Instead, Household debt appears to be largely a distributional issue for the household sector – intermediated by the financial sector.

However, changes to household debt have a variety of important macroeconomic and policy, as well as human, implications.

Starting first with the economy, it is pretty straightforward that changes in household debt are important to demand. Given the relatively self-contained nature of household debt, rising debt looks – from an empirical perspective – like a transfer from households with a low marginal propensity to consume (MPC) to households with a high MPC. The chart below the level of monetary assets and monetary liabilities residing in the household sector over the last twenty years. When the blue dots are above the orange line, the UK household sector has net monetary liabilities that exceed net monetary assets. To be clear, this does not include non-monetary assets like housing, equity, land, and other stuff. It’s just monetary or pseudo-monetary assets.*** An observation one might make is that monetary assets and liabilities are around the same level as one another, and so while the reality will be messier, we might think of household debt as being on a net basis an intra-sector distributional issue.

Household monetary assets vs household monetary liabilities, 1997-2016

When a rise in aggregate consumer demand has been accompanied by a rise in household debt we can and should ask to what extent such a move upward in debt load might be sustainable. Having a sense as to how this debt growth has been distributed amongst different debtors, what form this debt takes, and how vulnerable the debt service is to changing short term interest rates is helpful – and the report helps us understand better these things.

Secondly, changes and levels in household debt have important implications for financial system integrity. One person’s debt is another person’s asset, and as such, a precarious debt load is not an issue only for the indebted, but for the owners of capital. The relatively self-contained nature of household debt, intermediated by the financial system, means that higher debt loads lead to more counterparty risk. And this counterparty risk is likely to concentrate in financial institutions.

Indeed, many of the recent financial crises and recessions have been characterised by a series of debt contracts that we have ‘known’ as having low-credit risk characteristics suddenly being revealed as having high credit-risk characteristics (the Eurozone sovereign debt crisis, structured credit during the Global Financial Crisis, the dotcom/ Anderson credit bust, and the Savings and Loan Crisis to name but a few). As Mark Twain put it with somewhat greater panache: ‘What gets us into trouble is not what we don’t know. It’s what we know for sure that just ain’t so’. The Resolution Foundation report and much of the work that the Bank has done on UK household debt points to there being no great threat today, and from what I see I would agree. Whether this take is wrong will be a matter of record.

Thirdly, changes to household debt can tell us something about the appropriate stance for monetary policymakers (in ways only tangentially related to point one). Claudio Borio of the BIS outlined the issue nicely in a 2013 paper when he asked whether, in seeking to understand whether an economy is operating beyond trend, monetary policymakers should consider both inflation and the growth in private sector credit as signs that the economy was operating above potential growth. Jan Vlieghe in his speech to the SBE conference in 2017 argued that information about the location of the equilibrium rate of interest might be embedded in directional changes in household debt load. But changes in financial depth and the arrival of things like PCP finance that might just be a step change in the way we purchase things – that the report highlights as accounting for much of the UK consumer credit growth in the past couple of years – might be important to consider as part of these frameworks.

So in summary, this report’s analysis is really welcome. It helps us to better understand the changes in household debt and lifts the bonnet on important distributional issues. I agree with its findings that household debt does not look – today – to represent a threat to financial market stability and it makes a strong case that the credit surge does not appear to be associated with a dangerous over-extension among families least able to bear higher debt loads sustainably. And it highlights the pinch points for the future, which as one might have guessed sit with the more financially fragile households.

However, I wonder to what extent the transmission mechanism of monetary is to effect transfers from those households with high MPCs to those with low MPCs, crushing demand from indebted households – as suggested by James Cloyne et al in their 2016 Working Paper (although admittedly they said that this aspect was swamped by general equilibrium impacts of rate changes). Will an enhanced understanding as to the real human cost of rising rates change policymaker reaction functions?

 

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Pesky footnotes: probably the most interesting bit of the blog.
* If you and I each create an IOU due in two years time for £1 trillion and hand them to one another, both assets and debts are created. The magnitude of this act of asset and debt creation us such that UK household debt would – in aggregate – more than double. But because we each held the means to service our enormous individual debts (in the form of our enormous individual assets, which consist of claims on each other), the debt is utterly serviceable and sustainable. It is also functionless.

Really interestingly, Chakraborty et al put out an amazing paper algo-guessing a complete loan-level data set in December last year. I really recommend people read it here

** I didn’t understand this for the first twenty years of my career. I tend to think of savings as claims on others (eg, monetary assets). But, using the logic of the ONS Blue Book:

The household savings ratio is equal to the net change in claims on other sectors [i.e. change in household net lending/ borrowing number (NSSZ)] plus the cost of building new homes [ok, it’s actually the total gross capital formation number (NSSX), but that’s basically the same thing], plus a tiny number that hardly registers [aka, the acquisition less disposals of non-produced non-financial assets (NSSY)], all divided by total household resources (NSSF). To be more specific, it is these codes but particular to the household sector rather than the household + NPISH sector, but I don’t have them to hand, and they are pretty much the same numbers.

Household debt is the sum of all of the debt liabilities of households.

So – and quite logically – if Bank X creates a deposit through lending £20 to Household X, so that Household X can buy a service (let’s say a haircut) from Household Y (who then saves it), total debt rises by £20, but there is no change in the household savings ratio. There has been an expansion of the total household balance sheet, and an intra-household-sector change in the distribution of monetary assets and liabilities.

*** Household monetary assets are defined here households’ holdings of money, debt securities, and other accounts payable, plus non-life insurance technical reserves; household monetary liabilities consist of loans and accounts payable.

Household Debt in the UK

Yesterday I argued that if you want to discuss what changes to household debt might mean, you need a decent framework for assessing the fluidity of the microstructure of debt. To illustrate I set out two hypothetical countries with identically modest aggregate household debt loads – but with different sensitivities to changes in interest rates, and differing levels of financial stability. I called them Debtzania (where debt is concentrated and debt-to-income ratios for debtor was high) and Feudaland (where debt is thinly spread and a few households are creditors).

Which of these economies does the UK most resemble?

Using the NMG/ Bank of England survey data we can examine where it is in the income distribution that UK household debt falls.

Table 2 shows that most debt is owed by those in the top three deciles of the income distribution, and on sums below £175k. The mortgage-dominated nature of this debt and the untroubling LTVs with which it is associated may explain it to some as both rational and desired.

Table 2: Where household debt sits, by pre-tax income decile and total debt cohort

We can perform the same analysis for deposit balances held among our sample (knowing that at the macro level, total monetary assets and total monetary liabilities in the household sector are roughly the same), the output of which is shown in Table 3. It is perhaps not surprising that most of the money is owned by members of the upper half of the income distribution.

Table 3: Where household deposits sit, by pre-tax income decile and total deposit cohort

We could treat each income decile as a separate sector and look at the transfer of net monetary claims between them (in the form of savings and borrowings). This is shown in Table 4, and the data suggests that the flow of savings is on a net basis from lower income cohorts to upper income cohorts, typically to deliver mid-sized mortgages (we could, of course, reverse the causality in this description). This concentration of debtors might sound a bit more Debtzanian than Feudalish.

Table 4: UK households by pre-tax income decile and total debt cohort, estimated net saving/ borrowing flow

But debt sustainability is only really an issue for those in debt, and will correspond to their ability to service debt. And so in Table 5 we examine how debt-to-income ratios vary across the our matrix of UK household debt and income distribution. After all, small cohorts of high debt-to-income ratios was the thing identified as problematic when looking at otherwise untroubling Debtzanian aggregate debt statistics. Here we can see that debt-to-income ratios look pretty high for almost all debtors, but least troubling for highest income households where most nominal debt resides.

Table 5: UK household debt-to-income ratios, by pre-tax income decile and total debt cohort

And so the problems for policymakers seeking some rules of thumb to estimate sustainable or unsustainable levels of household debt appear twofold.

First, there is a data issue. Our sample size of around 6,000 households is small (as evidenced by @jmackin2’s outrage yesterday), even before we start to exclude households that refuse to give data in which we have interest. For the purpose of this blog I have used a snapshot, but I think that we need to compare datasets on a longitudinal basis. When the numbers on the matrix change, we need to understand whether this the result of movement on the income dimension or debt dimension.

Second, we have a question over the appropriate unit of analysis. In discussing Feudaland and Debtzania we argue against this being the overall economy, but as suggested by a comparison between the matrices of debt and income distribution on the one hand, and deposits and income distribution on the other, splitting the population into income deciles takes us not much closer to the issue at hand. There are meaningful flows between debtors and creditors within members of any given income decile. The appropriate unit of analysis is perhaps the household. But that statement seems a bit nuts.

The chart below looks at individual households in the NMG survey, rather than treating them as aggregated cohorts. It’s messy, but maybe messy is what works.

Putting aside human concerns for families struggling with the very real problems attached to sever indebtedness, why should policymakers care?

FPC members care because widespread unsustainable household debt can lead to problems for financial stability. But, through this lens, problems in debt service among low income households with small but unsustainable debt balances are just not worthy of deep interest: they are insufficiently likely to cause systemic financial problems.

MPC members care because changes in appetite for debt might tell them something about the location of the neutral real interest rate. Through this lens it might seem that it doesn’t matter what individual households are doing, but does matter what they collectively do. And I guess that if this is true, changes in the optimal level of debt which can only be inferred from an examination of its microstructure will be an important in any decision as to the wisdom of ‘leaning against the wind’. And they will care because cashflow impacts for indebted households following changes in interest rates are part of the transmission mechanism.

What to do?

Despite data shortcomings, there are some suggestions that we can draw out. First, in considering changes to household debt, policymakers should do well to treat aggregate debt statistics with caution. Having an idea as to whether they are dealing with Feudaland or Debtzania, and the degree to which there is stability in the microstructure of the debt distribution seems important. Second, examining the entire distribution of nominal debt-weighted debt-to-income ratios (and changes thereof) appears to be a step towards more capturing more meaningful household debt characteristics, changes in household behaviour and systemic debt problems.

Reverse ferret on household debt

A couple of blogs ago I posed the question as to how the sustainable level of household debt might be identified for an economy. I then reckoned that there might be a decent 30k ft way of addressing this question. This post serves as a bit of a reverse ferret. I’m not saying that the previous approach was wrong, but after some back-to-basics thinking I understand that its rightness is overly-dependent upon the stability of something that it may or may not be wise to assume. In my defence, I reckon *every* macro approach relies on this stability (comments section please to correct me). But I take little comfort in expressing a popular view based solely on its popularity.

Debt is an entirely distributional issue. Evenly distributed in a closed economy, no level of household debt is unserviceable or unsustainable. But evenly distributed, debt is also functionless. Every sustainability question rests upon the microstructure of debt loads across different households. And so, from a macro perspective, debt is tricksy to say the least.

This all becomes clear in an example. Let’s imagine two super-simple closed economies with no sectoral flows: the Kingdom of Feudaland and the Republic of Debtzania.

The Kingdom of Feudaland consists of 10m households, each of them with perfect equality of employment income (at £20k per annum), making its GDP worth £200bn per annum. Household debt sums to £20bn, and interest rates are 15%. Debt is owed by 9.625m households to the other 375,000 remaining households (evenly). Interest costs are eminently serviceable (£312 per annum per household in transfers from the debtors to the creditor households, each of whom receives a handsome £8,000 per annum in interest).

The Republic of Debtzania also consists of 10m households, each of them with perfect equality of employment income (at £20k per annum), making the GDP worth £200bn per annum. Household debt also sums to £20bn, and interest rates are also 15%. Debt is owed by 375,000 households to the other 9.625m households (evenly). Servicing this debt costs the debtor households £8,000 per annum. The creditor households each receive a modest £312 in interest income on their savings.

Table 1: Feudaland and Debtzanian debtmetrics

The aggregate debtmetrics for Feudaland and Debtzania are exactly the same (Table 1). At 10%, the aggregate household debt to income ratio looks pretty low, as do aggregate interest payments as a proportion of GDP at 1.5%. But the microstructure of the debt distribution is what matters in assessing the sustainability or otherwise of these two economy’s debt loads.

Feudaland, despite its wealth inequality, looks to be a beacon of financial stability. The debt-to-income ratios for debtors are pretty low at 10.4% of income, and servicing ongoing interest costs is universally manageable, absorbing 1.6% of income. Feudaland’s wealth inequality might eventually prove politically unsustainable, but it would be hard to call it financially unsustainable, even in an environment where interest rates doubled.

Despite exactly the same aggregate debt-metrics, Debtzania looks much more financially fragile than Feudaland. The majority of its citizens are savers, but they have amassed claims on the small minority of financially-fragile debtors who must pay out 40% of their incomes in interest payments to keep out of default. Debtzania debtors’ debt-to-income ratios are individually high at 267%, and it is probably fair to say that a doubling of interest rates might bring meaningful problems to Debtzania’s financial system (with associated morality stories).

Now imagine being a monetary policy maker in each of the two countries. At what point should you worry about changes to aggregate household debt, and at what point could you infer that household debt in your country is too high? If a policymaker looked to their countries’ respective histories for clues they would, in so doing, be making the assumption that the microstructure of debtor-creditor relationships would be relatively static (or at least semi-stable) over time.

With a static microstructure of debt in Feudaland we might expect to see household default rates relatively unresponsive to wild changes in aggregate debt loads or interest rates. Policy makers might draw the lesson that household debt – at only 10% of GDP – is far too low to worry about, and that rising debt could be a sign that households were moving towards their optimal debt load (and so should not be met by any ‘leaning against the wind’). One could even imagine the cultural trope of creditworthiness being assigned to Feudalanders (backed by the empirical evidence of minuscule historical credit losses).

With a static microstructure of debt in Debtzania, we might by contrast expect to see household defaults rise and fall with both real (and nominal) interest rates and debt-loads. Those 375k households who do the borrowing may – if cross-country evidence holds in our mythical land – do a disproportionate amount of the spending in the economy. And so monetary policy might prove a particularly speedy macro tool for demand management: introducing higher and lower pain thresholds to debtor households and transferring higher or lower amounts of debtor household incomes to creditor households with lower marginal propensities to spend. It would be unsurprising if Debtzanians acquired a reputation of being quick to default; concerned politicians might encourage them all to save more.

In short, if the structure of the distribution of debt was utterly unchanging in both countries, policymakers might reasonably rely on each country’s individual history of debtmetrics to determine policy pinch-points.

But the usefulness of any historical comparisons (in terms of aggregate debt-to-income ratios or debt-service ratios) rests on this microstructure of debt being pretty concrete. The more changeable the microstructure, the less useful any historical comparisons.

Imagine again that the microstructure of debt distribution in Feudaland shifted to match the distribution in Debtzania, perhaps as its demography shifted through population ageing and associated changes in savings habits. A policymaker following only aggregate debtmetrics might infer that the change in default patterns was associated with some cultural shift in the population. When in fact, aggregate debtmetrics had instead done a good job at masking this demographic sea change.

It is not clear that I, or anyone else who makes macro comments on matters of household debt, has a decent framework for assessing the fluidity of this microstructure.

In the next post I look at the data that I can see readily available for the UK.

In search of a better World Interest Rate

Financial market practitioners are, if nothing else, pragmatic in their approach to analysis. Finding something that works is great. And when something stops working it tends to be discarded. After a twitter convo last night with some smart folks I’m going to outline something that I have tried and discarded in the realm of seeking an answer to the question as to how the long dated real yields across the world might be determined by macroeconomic variables.

Some years ago when I was a full-time bond geek I asked my then CIO (the wonderful Michael Hughes of BZW Equity-Gilt Study fame) how he thought about assigning relative value in the inflation-linked bond market. (Please bear in mind that this preceded the ‘popular’ preoccupation with discerning the true r-star by some years.) 

Simple, he told me. Think of the real yield as the bid for international capital: there should be an inverse relationship with current account balances. I regressed 10yr real yields with current account deficits as a percentage of GDP, and there was an okay fit. Markets are forward-looking so I took consensus c/a balances (proxied by IMF forecasts). A better fit.

Here’s the chart* with and without the UK using today’s IMF forecasts:
It’s not the worst chart in the world at first glance (although @Barnejek might disagree). It gave me a speck of hope that there might be some useful stuff here that could improve on King & Low 2014.

King & Low sought to provide a ‘world interest rate’ series that can be used by all sorts of people. And it has since been heavily cited. They basically take an unweighted average of available ten year inflation-linked bond yields, and also a GDP-weighted average of the same instruments (finding them pretty indistinguishable). As far as papers by former G7 central bank governors go it is unextraordinary. But I like the idea of a global real yield and for play for having a stab at it.

As a practitioner, developments within one market appear to drive others, although the ‘aggressor’ market appears to change. (So, for example, it could be US Treasuries setting the tone for the world’s bond markets until the ECB decides to institute QQE and starts driving the car. And then the BoJ rocks up and declares Yield Curve Control. That sort of thing.) In financegeek language, developed market bond yields appear to be cointegrated. This is uncontroversial.

Finding a world interest rate that recognises adjustments for the international balance of payments (which looks from these charts like they might be a *thing*) could be interesting. Rather than looking at the simple average of the historically small number of issued bond yields and calling that the world interest rate, you could instead plot the course of the intercept of the regression line on the chart over time: a line not distorted by a country’s idiosyncratic balance of payment positions (or at least aggregating and controlling these idiosyncratic distortions).

When I tried this approach I came up with an answer that was not radically different from King & Low. The green line in the chart below is not far from King & Low’s blue line (which I extended by updating their dataset) and is modestly below (taking account of the degree to which King & Low’s issuers typically run current account deficits, and that they hadn’t made any credit spread adjustments to their data). Not that different. But better?

However, we now reach the disappointing part of the story. How stable is the relationship shown above in the nice scatter/bubble charts? Not very. As the next two charts show, the r-square of the relationship goes to pot 2008-2014 (although here I am using actual c/a balances rather than forecast ones). And the slope of the line actually flips from negative to positive in 2008 (admittedly, some really reallly crazy stuff was going on in international inflation-linked markets then – stuff that I still talk to people about today, so maybe that’s forgivable).

I haven’t GDP-, M3-, or duration-equivalent-bond-market-size-weighted the dots to find this r-square, so maybe things improve with a bit more work.

Bottom line: The cutting room floor is littered with ideas that don’t quite make the cut. I really like this way of thinking about international real yields, but am disturbed by the episodic nature of the relationship actually ‘working’. Pragmatism leads me to look in other directions if I want to link international real yields to international macroeconomic variables.

If anyone has had more success in this approach please do drop a comment in below.

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* I take the average IMF c/a balance for 2017-2021 as a percentage of GDP and compare here to 10yr real yields on inflation linked bonds as at 28th November 2017. I have adjusted the UK for the RPI-CPI ‘wedge’, and the Eurozone real yields by the difference in their 5yr CDS and Germany’s 5yr CDS so that it doesn’t become a credit quality chart. The bubble sizes are common currency GDP; I was wondering whether they should be common currency M3 or bond market size in 10yr duration equivalents. Not sure.

Finding the *right* level of household debt

My last post reflected on the Borio/ Vlieghe idea that the Equilibrium Real Rates (ERR) should perhaps be defined not just by inflation, but also by changing debt levels. Since then I have been thinking about that list of tricksy questions I listed at the end of the post. I want to have a stab at one – specifically, whether it is possible to define the ‘optimal nonfinancial debt’ for an economy. Short answer: maybe, but I don’t have the skills to know*; in the meantime I’ve got a way to think about it from 30k feet. 

Thinking about optimal debt loads from 30k feet by cleverer people than me has had a frankly shocking record.** That said, my MPhil thesis on the geopolitics of emerging market finance, has given me familiarity with debt sustainability models that I think could maybe be helpful. The bottom line of debt sustainability frameworks tends to be that there is rarely an impossible level of debt, but debt does get meaningfully tougher to service as debt rises, rates rise, and growth slows. Big surprise.

Let’s look at the UK household sector as a whole through the lens of a super-simplified sovereign debt dynamics framework.*** We know what disposable household income growth and effective interest rates have recently been. And we know where the household debt stock has got to. As the chart below shows, it has risen to 138% of disposable income.


So what is the ‘primary surplus’ (or in the households’ case the net acquisition of financial liabilities minus interest payments as a percentage of household disposable income) required to stabilise household debt-to-disposable-income at 138%? The answer is around about 2% right now. And what is the actual ‘primary surplus’? Around -2%. So debt is growing, and is growing quickly. And the Bank of England appears to be worried about this worrying rise in household debt. (Again, read the last blog on this here.)

We can compare the primary surplus required to stabilise debt levels over time (blue line in the chart below) to the actual primary surplus recorded by households (grey line). You may notice that when the grey line is below the blue line, debt rises. When the grey line is above the blue line, debt falls. It’s a super-simplified little framework. The chart on the right compares the gap between the two lines to the change in debt-to-income: we can see that it doesn’t capture everything, but it sort of works(ish).


While extremely simple, this framework highlights the degree to which the issue of changes in debt sustainability (a somewhat different and easier question to the optimal debt load question) is a function of income growth, interest rates and debt loads. And in seeking to answer the question as to why households have re-levered recently, we can quickly hypothesise an answer that doesn’t involve a spending splurge. (The incredibly smart Neville Hill at Credit Suisse, who kindly shared his data with me that I used to calculate the blue line, argues exactly that here.)

What pushes the blue line up and down so erratically? Well, the most volatile input to the little debt dynamics ‘model’ is household income growth. The spike up in the blue line in recent quarters appears to have been driven by a collapse in nominal household income growth through 2016. In other words, it sort of looks like households are expecting the sharp recent slowdown in income growth to be temporary.

If the slowdown in household income growth isn’t temporary and the Bank of England raise rates to try to control household debt growth, the blue line gets a double-whammy. The following projection shows the path of the breakeven primary surplus in an environment where household disposable income growth continues at the sluggish pace of the last year and three rate rises over the next three quarters:


Actual household consumption would have to drop consumption pretty darn quickly to stabilise debt levels. And I can see households interpreting this as monetary policymakers arguing that the beatings will continue until morale improves.

Where does this leave the idea that an understanding of the ERR should take into account debt growth? I’m still scratching my head on this, but it seems to introduce some qualifications at the least.
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* Given the importance of this question for all sorts of things, it is frankly weird that there hasn’t been more research on it. I feel pretty confident that it might be advanced by some awesome econometricians who have experience in mining large panels of ONS household data, but is there anything to say on the matter before then?

** In the wake of the GFC, Ken Rogoff and Carmen Reinhart’s empirical work on debt at a sovereign level attracted sufficient policymaker attention to get them cited as the intellectual handmaidens of austerity. Indeed, ex-UK Chancellor George Osborne cited their work directly ahead of the fact as the rationale supporting austerity. But since the aspects of the R&R work looking for debt optimality has been shown to be uncharacteristically error-strewn.

*** Simply d[(r-g)/(1+g)]=pb, where d = debt/ disposable income; r = effective household interest rate; g = annual growth in household disposable income, and; pb = household net acquisition of financial liabilities minus interest payments as a percentage of household disposable income.

How to think about debt?

I attended Gertjan Vlieghe’s speech yesterday at the Society of Business Economists annual conference in London. The speech had a market impact because it challenged the consensus perception of Vlieghe as an uber-dove. It had an impact on me for another reason.

But first, a bit of context.

Back in May I was reflecting that many people seem to have become either really cross that monetary policy is way too tight (looking at low levels of inflation), or really cross that monetary policy is way too loose (reflecting either historical anchoring, or looking to debt growth). For a sample of this crossness, you could do worse than look at my compendium of tl;dr versions of submissions to the Treasury Select Committee’s inquiry into the effectiveness and impact if post-2008 UK monetary policy.

Anyway, I drew the following chart, to try to understand this bad-temperedness. 


It shows for each calendar year since 1983 the pace of US inflation (y-axis), the change in US private nonfinancial credit to GDP ratio, and then the bubble size relates to the real interest rate (blue is positive, white is negative; large is large, small is small). I can see that the debt folk (I’ve labelled as Austrians, but this is probably unfair) probably reckon that anywhere right of the y-axis means that rates have been too low, while inflation folk see anything below the x-axis as evidence that rates have been too high. In the top right and bottom left quadrants, debt and inflation folk would probably get on okay at a drinks party without coming to blows. The top left and bottom right quadrants are, by contrast, times when these folk are likely to spend most of the time either talking past – or slinging abuse – at one another. You will notice that we’ve spent a good deal of time in the bottom right quadrant in recent years: inflation has been scarce, but real interest rates low and increased leverage forthcoming.

Claudio Borio, Head of the Monetary and Economic Department of the Bank of International Settlements, wrote an interesting paper in 2013 arguing that the idea of the output gap had kind of gone astray. Typically, monetary policymakers seek to identify potential economic growth with reference to non-inflationary economic growth. Borio argued that this is, if not bogus, too restrictive: the pace of economic growth may be unsustainably strong, and the economy operating beyond capacity, if financial imbalances (aka leverage) are building up. In other words, Borio argues that changes in the price level (inflation) and changes in the stock of private nonfinancial credit (leverage) are each important in determining the sustainable pace of economic growth.

I’ve got some sympathy with Borio. If this sounds a bit abstract think of China today: inflation is not a problem, but credit growth is rampant,  perhaps to the extent that it might point to faster growth than is ultimately sustainable. Central bank mandates in many – perhaps most – developed economies are meaningfully oriented towards delivering low levels of price inflation, variously defined. Why? Because inflation is a form of monetary instability. And preventing monetary instability so that people can get on with their lives rather than obsess over the nature of money  – via the creation and execution of an inflation-targeting mandate – seems a pretty reasonable thing for a monetary sovereign to do.

But, as the Global Financial Crisis made baldly evident, inflation is not the only form of monetary instability. During the GFC, Central Banks resurrected their age-old response to this episodic type of monetary instability: by acting as Lenders of Last Resort and clearing up *after the fact* with super-easy monetary policy.

Whether central banks should act *before the fact* and ‘lean against the wind’ so preventing the build up of bubbles has been a live and heated debate probably for as long as they have acted as Lenders of Last Resort. There are good arguments on both sides, simplifying as:

  1. Pro-leaning: bubbles are dumb (aka lead to capital misallocation), and big bubbles bursting hurts (aka deliver large loss of welfare, can be associated with financial and monetary instability etc). If your whole job is to maintain monetary stability, going on and on about how hard it is to lean against the wind is a bad look.
  2. Anti-leaning: By definition, people won’t agree that something is a bubble until after it bursts. Furthermore, while bubbles might hurt a few people a lot, tightening monetary policy more than would otherwise be called for comes at a real cost for many (fewer jobs, slower investment, etc). Better to clear up after the event with some ultra-easy policy response if necessary. In other words, it might be really important to stop bubbles, but it’s also both practically impossible and trying to do do is likely to be pretty damaging. 

The Global Financial Crisis did highlight the arguments of the pro-leaners, but didn’t really challenged the arguments of the anti-leaners. I see Vlieghe’s speech as an elegant take on this debate: maybe even a way to square the circle.

In the speech Vlieghe introduced what he called the Finance Theory of the Equilibrium Real Rate (ERR). At it’s simplest it is an intuition that interest rates are low and the risk premia attached to equities are high when the world is risky. Few would disagree. ‘Risky’ in this context means consumption growth has a lot of volatility, and (importantly) negative skew and kurtosis. The intuition is demonstrated with an historical econometric analysis of a couple of hundred years of UK data, and different regimes are identified – some with a high ERR and some with a low ERR. The different regimes have some shared characteristics of credit growth, realised equity risk premia, realised nominal rates and inflation, as well as distributions of consumption growth (expressed in terms of mean, standard deviation, skewness and kurtosis). I would urge you to read it and make up your own mind whether it says more than real policy rates are very low and equity returns are very strong in periods following economic busts. I think that it does.

How is this linked to thinking about the current state of monetary policy? Importantly, Vlieghe’s Finance Theory of the ERR doesn’t actually help define where the ERR might be, ex ante. But one of the things he associates with high or low ERR regimes is the change in the stock of household credit. If households are deleveraging, chances are that you are in a low ERR regime, and even an ultra-low nominal Bank Rate might not be very far below the ERR. But if households are releveraging, maybe you’re moving *out* of a low ERR regime, and Bank Rate might be very far below the ERR. Over the past year or so, UK households have been releveraging, so a question is introduced as to whether the UK is moving out of a low ERR regime and into a higher ERR. Through this lens monetary policy in the UK may be becoming ever-easier unless Bank Rate is raised. And so Vlieghe argues, without a hint of Austrianism, that the easiness of a given monetary policy becomes defined by changes in the price level (inflation) and changes in the stock of private nonfinancial credit (leverage).

Vlieghe’s Financial Theory of the ERR, like Borio’s Financial Theory of Sustainable Economic Growth (OK, I made up that name), doesn’t argue ‘sure, inflation is important – but there’s this other thing too called financial stability/ leverage to worry about’. It isn’t a new target variable to chuck into your optimisation. Instead, it is a variable that reconfigures other terms in the optimisation process in a potentially unknown and whacky way.

If this understanding is right (and, to be fair, I would be surprised if Vlieghe even recognised it as such) I am left with some questions:

1. The circularity question.

Isn’t inter-temporal substitution supposed to be a pretty major transmission mechanism? And doesn’t this manifest in changes to credit stock? Maybe I should reread James Cloyne’s awesome 2016 paper that finds the transmission mechanism isn’t all about intertemporal transfers, but also about transfers between households. 

2. The reversion to *which* mean question.

But if we target stable debt to GDP, are we stabilising at a level that is above or below equilibrium level of debt at a whole economy level? What is equilibrium level of private non-financial sector debt-to-GDP? Is the equilibrium level of debt conditional upon the term structure of interest rates available to, and the whole shape of the prospective distribution of economic growth as experienced by, each debt-bearing demographically-unique cohort? Do we have confidence that we know what this is for any economy?

3. The FPC question.

The whole point of the FPC was supposed to be to a means of exerting control over stuff like leverage growth. This was a sort of nod to the Leaners (without actually going the whole way and saying that rates should be changed to lean against the wind). Is Vlieghe saying the whole project is just a bit rubbish? Or, to put it as a meme:


4. The globalisation question.

Isn’t the location of all those dots in the bottom right quadrant of the chart more easily explained by the idea that there is global overcapacity in labour owing to a global labour glut that will turn as Chinese governance-adjusted unit labour costs reach developed market governance-adjusted unit labour costs? This dovetails into the @rajakorman question (simply put, is @rajakorman right that the whole thing can be put to bed by adding an international flows dimension).

I didn’t really expect a really impactful speech. I was dead wrong.