Eugene Coyle wrote:

>Now it seems he can't let go of the idea that things will be roaring again
>soon.

For the record, Comrade Coyle, here's what I had to say in LBO #97, 
written in May. The only way I've changed my tune since then is 
towards greater gloom.

People who call for global recession every other week don't deserve 
kudos when they turn out to be right.

And now I'll really go quiet.

Doug

----

WHAT NEXT?

Maybe the fifth time is the charm. The Federal Reserve has cut 
interest rates five times this year -- one of the most densely packed 
easing trends in its history. Having spent 1999 and much of 2000 
tightening, with the intention of cooling the U.S. economy down, the 
Fed is busily trying to undo its own earlier work and reverse its 
sinking course of the last half year.

There's been a lot of downbeat economic news over the last few 
months. U.S. employers shed 276,000 jobs in March and April, and the 
ranks of the unemployed grew by 466,000. (The numbers don't match 
because they come from two different surveys: the first comes from a 
survey of employers, and the second, from one of households.) More 
seems on the way: big firms have been announcing thousands of planned 
layoffs, first-time claims for unemployment insurance have risen, and 
people are telling pollsters that jobs are getting harder to find and 
that their general sense is that the economy's getting worse. Usually 
these signs are harbingers of a slower economy and rising 
unemployment. Some firms, particularly in high-tech, are reducing 
workweeks without laying people off, meaning that the official job 
numbers may be understating the damage to incomes and lives.

Other indicators are looking weak too: GDP growth has been sagging, 
companies are cutting back on investment plans, and state tax 
collections are coming in under projections, suggesting things could 
be a bit worse than official stats make them appear, And the bad news 
isn't just of domestic origin: growth in the European Union, one of 
the world's brighter spots, is also slowing (with Euroland industrial 
output falling sharply in March, and British business confidence 
falling sharply in April), and Japan is producing little other than 
bad economic news.

But the U.S. news isn't all doomy. Our proprietary RecessionIndex� 
(well, not really; we stole the idea from The Economist), which 
showed a scary spike when graphed in issue #96, is now rolling over, 
much as it did after the 1987 stock market crash and the 1998 Russian 
debt default, two earlier recession scares that passed in a few 
months. This index, which counts the number of newspaper articles 
containing the word recession, has proved more reliable at spotting 
recessions than many conventional indicators. Unemployment insurance 
claims fell back a bit in early May from April's near-recession 
levels. And consumers are still spending -- not robustly, for sure, 
but they're not padlocking their wallets, as they would be in a real 
recession.

Q&A.  So are we on the leading edge of recession? Dodging a bullet? Neither?

It's always hard to analyze the real world in the present tense; 
reality rarely follows familiar scripts. So it's a bit much to assert 
that the U.S. economy is playing hard to read these days -- when is 
it ever easy? But still it feels harder than usual, because this 
looks to be no ordinary business cycle. In the textbook post-World 
War II business cycle of the sort that prevailed through the early 
1980s, expansion would lead to "overheating," which meant shortages, 
supply bottlenecks, and rising inflation. Markets would get alarmed, 
the Fed would push interest rates higher, and the higher borrowing 
costs would slow down the economy, led by interest-rate sensitive 
sectors like housing and autos. (They're interest-rate sensitive 
because, unlike food, people usually have to borrow heavily to 
purchase them -- though the unemployed and indigent have been known 
to borrow to buy food.) As the economy slowed, firms, noting a pileup 
of unsold goods in their warehouses, would throttle back on 
production, lay off scads of production workers, and this would slow 
the economy further. Facing higher borrowing costs and sagging 
markets, firms would also cut back on their capital investments. At 
some point, after all the boom's "imbalances" had been corrected, the 
Fed would grow pleased with its work, start cutting rates, and the 
economy would recover from its swoon.

Political spin. There's also a more political take on the business 
cycle, and one that's far more relevant to recent his tory than the 
textbook case presented above. In a classic 1943 essay, "Political 
Aspects of Full Employment," the Polish economist Michal Kalecki 
explored the reasons why economic policymakers would never tolerate 
an unemployment rate approaching zero for long:

"Indeed, under a regime of permanent full employment, the "sack" 
would cease to play its role as a disciplinary measure. The social 
position of the boss would be undermined, and the self-assurance and 
class-consciousness of the working class would grow. Strikes for wage 
increases and improvements in conditions of work would create 
political tension."

And that would mean the loss of "discipline in the factories" and put 
"political stability" at risk. So when mainstream economists, 
financiers, and central bankers worry about "overheating" and even 
"inflation," it's really this fundamental power relation they're 
talking about.

But don't take a long-dead economist's word for it -- take Alan 
Greenspan's. Several times during the late 1990s, Greenspan worried 
publicly that the "pool of available workers" was running dry. What 
he meant by that is graphed on p. 4 -- and as the graph shows, the 
pool was running quite dry. The dryer it ran, the greater the risk of 
"wage inflation," meaning anything more than minimal increases. 
Productivity gains took some of the edge off this potentially dire 
threat, said Greenspan, and so did "a residual fear of job skill 
obsolescence, which has induced a preference for job security over 
wage gains" -- the threat of the "sack," as Kalecki put it, still had 
its sting. Workers were nervous and acting as if the unem ployment 
rate were considerably higher than the 4.1% it's averaged since the 
be ginning of 1999. But even this fortunate confluence of events 
wasn't enough to calm a worried central banker, because as Greenspan 
put it with characteristic wit, if the pool stayed dry, "significant 
increases in wages, in excess of productivity growth, [would] 
inevitably emerge, absent the unlikely repeal of the law of supply 
and demand."

Which is why Greenspan & Co. raised short-term interest rates by 
about two points during 1999 and the first half of 2000. There was no 
sign of a serious inflationary threat -- with much of the world 
economy flat on its back, it was one of the last things to worry 
about -- nor were there any signs of rising worker militancy. But 
wages were creeping higher, and the threat of the sack was losing 
some of its bite. As the nearby chart shows, the share of respondents 
to the Conference Board's monthly survey declaring jobs to be 
"plentiful" reached an all-time high of 56% last July -- as the share 
calling them "hard to get" reached an all time low of 10%. Those 
numbers have since returned to a range that Alan Greenspan probably 
finds much more congenial.

Equilibrium? But will they stop there? That seems to be what the Fed 
would like -- a bit more slack in the labor market (meaning a bit 
more fear in the hearts of workers), without a recession. Whether 
they'll get that is hard to say.

While there's little doubt that the tightening cycle that began in 
1999 brought about this slowdown, the way it happened was a bit 
unusual. The rise in interest rates was fairly modest, and by itself 
probably wouldn't have been enough to bring down the real economy. 
But it burst the stock market bubble and put an end -- whether it's 
temporary or permanent we don't know -- to the cybertopianism of the 
late 1990s. That euphoria, backed by some of the easiest financing 
conditions in human history, fueled a gadget-buying spree with few 
precedents. Convinced the boom would last forever, both new firms and 
established ones bought computers and communications equipment that 
many of them now regret (those, that is, that are still in business).

That machinery has been thrown into reverse: euphoria has been 
replaced by pessimism, and easy finance by a harsher regime. Surveys 
report weak investment plans and much-lowered expectations for the 
e-future. Trade journals and slick magazines now run cover stories 
exhorting readers that the net still matters. The once limitless 
stream of free money from venture capitalists and new stock offerings 
for high-tech startups remains dry; less visibly, the credit markets 
have dried up too. Bondholders and bankers are talking tough with 
existing borrowers, and are extending credit only to the worthiest of 
new borrowers (i.e., those least in need of loans). While the mass 
death of dot.com's is mostly behind us, the shakeout in the 
telecommunications sector is far from over.

Profit shortage. The Fed is rightly concerned about cutbacks in 
present and planned investment spending. In the announcement 
following its April easing decision, after expressing satisfaction 
that firms have been running down excess inventories and that retail 
sales and the housing market were holding up decently, the central 
bank worried that "capital investment has continued to soften and the 
persistent erosion in current and expected profitability, in 
combination with rising uncertainty about the business outlook, seems 
poised to dampen capital spending going forward." It reiterated this 
concern in the announcement following the May easing decision, 
agonizing that "investment in capital equipment ... has continued to 
decline," and that "the erosion in current and prospective 
profitability, in combination with considerable uncertainty about the 
business outlook, seems likely to hold down capital spending going 
forward."

There are several reasons for this: profits, the main source of 
investment funds, are sagging; the financial markets, the source of 
supplemental funds (though nowhere near as important a source as most 
people think) are treating mendicants ungenerously; and prospects for 
future profits, the main reason for making investments, are less than 
inspiring.

The Fed is deeply concerned about the profit picture. Reuters 
reported that on the morning before the Fed sprung its April surprise 
on the markets, an unnamed governor phoned researchers at First Call, 
a firm that analyzes corporate profit prospects, to ask about the 
outlook, especially for high-tech companies. Fed officials had long 
been consulting regularly with First Call -- with contacts ranging 
from regular weekly phone consults to requests for special detailed 
studies -- but the early morning call was unusual. Apparently nothing 
changed for the better in the profit picture in the weeks after that 
decision, because the Fed refilled the easing prescription.

Weaker capital spending is bad news for economic growth, but the Fed 
is worried about it for longer-term reasons, too: it's come to love 
the reported productivity boom of the last few years -- reasoning 
that it's kept profits up and inflation down -- and fears it may fade 
if companies stop spending liberally on high-tech gadgetry. The Fed 
is right to be worried; the future of the U.S. economic "miracle" is 
at stake.

There's plenty of reason to be skeptical about the extent and 
importance of the widely reported (and widely celebrated) 
productivity boom of the late 1990s. The reasons for skepticism are 
too complicated for this space -- for details, see Doug Henwood's 
forthcoming book, A New Economy? But the story in a few words is 
this: a careful reading of the official stats suggests that much of 
the productivity pickup was the result of heavy investments in 
high-tech equipment. Paul Krugman wrote a famous piece in Foreign 
Affairs in 1994 in which he argued that the East Asian "miracle" 
wasn't as miraculous as it seemed, because it was the product of 
throwing resources at the economy: investing very heavily, and 
pressing ever more workers into service, rather than working smarter 
(better education and training for the workforce and improvements in 
organization and management). He drew a parallel with a classic 
critique of Soviet economic growth (familiar to many of those who 
remember the Soviet Union) -- that it was unsustainable because it 
was so resource-intensive. Something like that happened in the U.S. 
in the late 1990s, and that something has now stalled.

One sign of that stalling: personal computer sales have been 
declining for the first time in the industry's 20-year history. But 
it's not just PCs; John Chambers, chair of Cisco, the formerly 
high-flying maker of routers for the Internet and internal corporate 
networks, said recently that the slowdown in sales of info tech 
equipment "may be the fastest any industry our size has ever 
decelerated." Citing competitive pressures and rapid technical 
change, the industry and its huge flock of gabbling consultants and 
promoters are convinced that this will be a brief pause before it's 
off to the races again -- and maybe they're right. It's always been 
that way, at least as long as anyone can remember. But as the old 
Wall Street saying goes, trees don't grow to the sky. Of course, 
standard lefty pessimism, which tends to see every downturn as an 
overture to the Big One, is probably at least as misplaced as 
standard American boosterism, but it also seems likely that the tech 
binge of the late 1990s won't return any time soon.

LUV song. But we're back to the question from 1,700 words ago: if no 
boom, what next?

Debate on this issue boils down into a letter game: will the course 
of the economy be like a V (short, sharp decline followed by a strong 
recovery), a U (a more protracted version of the V), or an L (a long 
stagnation)? At this point, the V seems least likely; the usual 
leading indicators are suggesting stabilization, but no imminent 
recovery.

As was noted in the last issue, one key to whether the Fed's easing 
medicine was working is the behavior of the stock market. The first 
couple of casings were received blandly; the market drifted lower 
into early April. It's since turned around, and there are even signs 
of speculative exuberance returning.

And the Fed hasn't been alone in its generosity: around the world, 
there have been over 75 central bank casings since December. An 
important dissenter from this indulgent mood has been the European 
Central Bank (ECB), which is publicly worrying about inflation, and 
apparently, as the new kid on the central bankers' block, is eager to 
advertise its firm re solve to the world. It's only cut rates by a 
quarter-point, which is as good as nothing. Maybe they're right that 
Europe's long period of economic underperformance has come to an end, 
and that the Continent doesn't need stimulative policies. Or maybe 
they're hanging tough, to soften up European workers for wage and 
public spending cuts. Europe aside, 75 global casings are nothing to 
sneeze at, nor are five domestic rate cuts in the U.S. The safe bet 
would be that the casings will do the trick, and even if there's no 
quick reignition of the boom,  things aren't likely to get much 
worse, either.

Underpinning the optimistic view is the persistence of consumer 
spending in the face of all the bad news -- the consumer-as-hero 
narrative, which has plucky shoppers resisting the nay-sayers and 
rescuing the economy from the jaws of recession. The less optimistic 
interpretation is that consumption will be the last nut to crack -- 
that the supply-side recession (led, as it was, by cutbacks in 
investment and employment rather than consumer spending) will work 
its way over to the demand side in another month or three. Layoffs 
will begin to bite, and the still-employed will get nervous, lock up 
the VISA card, and maybe even put some money in the bank. Work by 
economists at Goldman Sachs offers some support to this view. They 
built a model that forecasts consumer spending based on several 
standard inputs -- changes in unemployment, consumer confidence, 
inflation, and the like. Actual consumption is coming in well ahead 
of the levels predicted by the model. That could mean the model is 
wrong, as models often are -- but it does offer some evidence for the 
whistling past the graveyard thesis. Should this change, the 
consequences could be severe -- a demand-side drop as sudden and 
sharp as the supply-side one of several months ago. But that hasn't 
happened yet.

An old rule of thumb in economics known as Okun's Law (named after 
Arthur Okun, who served on the Council of Economic Advisors in the 
1960s) holds that for every percentage point change in GDP growth, 
there's a corresponding 0.4 point change in the unemployment rate. 
So, a slowdown in growth from the 4.5% average that prevailed for the 
last three years to the current 2% range should cause unemployment to 
rise nearly a full percentage point, towards 5% by yearend (which 
would put another 700,000 people out of work). Or, looked at another 
way, it would take growth close to 3.5% to keep unemployment from 
rising. So, barring formal recession, the unemployment rate is likely 
to drift higher. But to get growth up to 3.5% would require a 
reversal of the investment cutback, and that's not right around the 
corner.

The Wall Street consensus is that the Fed is getting its way; easier 
money will bring the economy back to life in a few months. That seems 
too easy. It's hard to believe that one of the all-time great stock 
market bubbles, which enabled one of the great capital investment 
booms in modern times, could end in a brief slowdown, after which 
it's back to the races once again. The L-scenario -- which, despite 
its mild appearance would mean job losses, debt defaults and other 
financial strains, and fiscal problems for states, localities, and 
even the federal government, and nasty spillover effects in Latin 
America and other regions dependent on exports to the U.S. -- looks a 
lot more likely. And then there's the possibility that almost no 
one's thinking of, that 70s show, stagflation.

When the 1960s productivity boom -- which everyone thought at the 
time to be permanent -- ended, inflation began its decade-long 
ascent, and growth rates slipped and unemployment rose. Almost no one 
thinks that's likely right now, but who said that reality ever 
matches mass expectations?

Reply via email to