You´d be hard put to find a better illustration of the old chestnut about the EMH economist whose friend tells him there´s a banknote lying in the road:
Can't be. If there was a bill on the ground, somebody would have already picked it up.
Where to begin? Most normal people would say: that´s another nail in the already well-sealed coffin of the EMH. But faced with indisputable facts about solar market prices and installation quantities, Cowen´s response is: where´s the solar boom or fossil bust in asset prices? He can´t see one, so the facts must be wrong, or more politely epiphenomenal noise. Note that the objection is not based on any falsifiable hypothesis about solar PV, such as: Germany will have to cancel its solar PV feed-in tariff as unaffordable, silicon feedstock supply will hit a new bottleneck like the one that kept prices from falling in 2004-2008, solar PV will turn out to cause cancer, impotence and obesity or at least will be thought to do so. (Now there´s a hot tip to the oil industry PR men: work up some scares.) For the record, while Germany did reduce its feed-in tariff, China has announced one.
You know, even after two years at Chicago, where like every professor tells you that same joke at least three times every semester, it never gets old, does it?
It's of course perfectly possible that markets are simply not recognizing the danger to fossil fuel stocks, and we are in for a very exciting disruption in the next ten years. (In which case, I am wrong about a carbon tax and other emissions controls; we should just wait eight years.)
On the other hand, it's also possible that people who trade those stocks for a living--some of whom may even be as smart as James Wimberly, have considered this possibility, and don't find it very likely. What might those reasons be?
1) Mindless trend extrapolation is hours of fun for the entire family, but it is incorrect at least as often as it is correct, and possibly more often.
Wimberly uses this graph:
And very possibly prices will keep falling, the way that microchips have. On the other hand, maybe they'll plateau. Wimberly points out that solar panels are fundamentally a manfuacturing business, not a resource business, which is certainly promising . . . but the prices of other manufactured goods that experienced steep declines did not necessarily keep plummeting to zero.
2) Solar panel costs are not the only cost of a solar installation. According to the Energy Bible (which comports roughly with other figures I've seen online), about half the cost, or a little more, of putting in solar panels comes from the cells. The rest comes from the other stuff you need: batteries, transformers, wiring, and labor. As far as I know, the cost of these things is not falling as fast as the cost of solar panels.
Assume that these costs have held relatively steady, with the labor component being the most unstable. Ten years ago, most of the cost of an installation would have been the solar panels. But as those prices decline, the installed cost (without tax incentives) will be increasingly dominated by labor and other materials. Assuming that that graph says what I think it does, that implies that even if cells become free, we'd plateau slightly north of the average electricity price.
3) There's a storage problem. Yes, intriguing things are being done with hot salt and so forth. But how attractive are the costs compared to home installations? What percentage of their total generation costs represent solar cells, versus labor and other things whose prices aren't falling so fast?
Putting the pieces together, our national battery occupies a volume of 4.4 billion cubic meters, equivalent to a cube 1.6 km (one mile) on a side. The size in itself is not a problem: we'd naturally break up the battery and distribute it around the country. This battery would demand 5 trillion kg (5 billion tons) of lead.
A USGS report from 2011 reports 80 million tons (Mt) of lead in known reserves worldwide, with 7 Mt in the U.S. A note in the report indicates that the recent demonstration of lead associated with zinc, silver, and copper deposits places the estimated (undiscovered) lead resources of the world at 1.5 billion tons. That's still not enough to build the battery for the U.S. alone. We could chose to be optimistic and assume that more lead will be identified over time. But let's not ignore completely the fact that at this moment in time time, no one can point to a map of the world and tell you where even 2% of the necessary lead would come from to build a lead-acid battery big enough for the U.S. And even the undiscovered, but suspected lead falls short.
What about cost? At today's price for lead, $2.50/kg, the national battery would cost $13 trillion in lead alone, and perhaps double this to fashion the raw materials into a battery (today's deep cycle batteries retail for four times the cost of the lead within them). But I guarantee that if we really want to use more lead than we presently estimate to exist in deposits, we're not dealing with today's prices. Leaving this caveat aside, the naïve $25 trillion price tag is more than the annual U.S. GDP. Recall that lead-acid is currently the cheapest battery technology. Even if we sacrificed 5% of our GDP to build this battery (would be viewed as a huge sacrifice; nearly a trillion bucks a year), the project would take decades to complete.
But even then, we aren't done: batteries are good for only so many cycles (roughly 1000, depending on depth of discharge), so the national battery would require a rotating service schedule to recycle each part once every 5 years or so. This servicing would be a massive, expensive, and never-ending undertaking.
Moreover, while some sort of battery-replacement would help deal with the base-load problem (solar and wind are more variable than conventional sources, which means they have limited applications), they don't fix the transportation problem. Batteries are heavy and expensive, and as I understand it, absent some fairly radical breakthrough, they won't work at all in aviation; the energy density isn't high enough to permit the plane to take off. They're better for autos, but people don't want the limited range those vehicles currently offer.
4) To really take the market by storm, solar (plus storage) doesn't need to beat the average cost of electricity; it needs to beat the individual cost of each fuel type. DOE seems to think that by 2016 solar is still going to be a lot more expensive per kilowatt hour than other sources:
It's a pretty long haul before they overtake new coal--much less already-existing coal plants, or advanced natural gas.
The most obvious use for solar is as a replacement for expensive peak-load natural gas power (as I understand it, air conditioning causes most of the demand for these plants, so solar would be a nice complement.) But unless it gets massive subsidies, solar (including any storage mechanism you come up with) is going to have to individually defeat each type of electricity plant on price and/or availability, not "the average retail price of electricity"--which already includes some expensive solar and wind power.
Maybe that's possible--though that would still leave transportation to worry about. But that graph doesn't show it.
I'd close by restating Tyler's question in a slightly different way: if the price of solar is really likely to keep falling until it's cheaper than coal, why don't we see this revealed in the behavior of global warming activists? Where are Greens saying "We've decided to move on to more pressing issues, because clearly, the carbon emissions problem is just about solved."
If solar panels really become cheap enough to replace most electric generation, that will be extraordinarily disruptive, in ways that will be both good and bad for the environment. But I'm not seeing a shift away from climate change in order to focus more on, say, sustainable water-use or species conservation. Everyone seems just as worried about climate change as they've ever been, even though such cheap solar panels would render the issue mostly moot.
Revealed preference and market prices certainly can't tell you everything about the future. But they can tell you a lot about what people believe about the future.
The Democrat’s command and poise left her rival looking frustrated, peevish, and out of sorts.
Monday brought the first debate of the presidential season, but it often felt like two separate debates. One, from Hillary Clinton, was wonky, crisp, and polished; if not always inspiring, it was professional and careful. The other, from Donald Trump, was freewheeling, aggressive, and meandering, occasionally landing a hard blow but often substance-less and hard to follow. But the two debates intersected at times, sometimes raucously, as Trump repeatedly broke in to interrupt Clinton.
It was a commanding performance from the Democratic nominee. Clinton delivered a series of detailed answers on subjects ranging from race to the Middle East to tax policy. Meanwhile, she delivered a string of attacks on Trump, assailing him for stiffing contractors, refusing to release his tax returns, fomenting birtherism, and caricaturing black America. She stumbled only occasionally, but left few openings for Trump. She remained calm and often smiling as Trump repeatedly attacked her and interrupted her answers—doing it so often that moderator Lester Holt, often a spectral presence at the debate, finally cut in twice in short order to chide him. (Vox counted 40 instances; Clinton made some of her own interruptions, but fewer.) Clinton displayed a sort of swagger perhaps not seen since her hearing before Congress on Benghazi.
If undecided voters were looking for an excuse to come around to Clinton’s corner, they may have found it on Monday night.
Donald Trump sniffled and sucked down water. He bragged about not paying federal taxes—“That makes me smarter.” He bragged about bragging about profiting from the housing crisis—“That’s called business, by the way.” He lost his cool and maybe the race, taking bait coolly served by Hillary Clinton.
If her objective was to tweak Trump’s temper, avoid a major mistake, and calmly cloak herself in the presidency, Clinton checked all three boxes in the first 30 minutes of their first debate.
It may not matter: Trump is the candidate of change and disruption at a time when voters crave the freshly shaken. But the former secretary of state made the strongest case possible for the status quo, arguing that while voters want change in the worst way, Trump’s way would be the worst.
For decades, the candidate has willfully inflicted pain and humiliation.
Donald J. Trump has a cruel streak. He willfully causes pain and distress to others. And he repeats this public behavior so frequently that it’s fair to call it a character trait. Any single example would be off-putting but forgivable. Being shown many examples across many years should make any decent person recoil in disgust.
Judge for yourself if these examples qualify.
* * *
In national politics, harsh attacks are to be expected. I certainly don’t fault Trump for calling Hillary Clinton dishonest, or wrongheaded, or possessed of bad judgment, even if it’s a jarring departure from the glowing compliments that he used to pay her.
But even in a realm where the harshest critiques are part of the civic process, Trump crossed a line this week when he declared his intention to invite Gennifer Flowers to today’s presidential debate. What kind of man invites a husband’s former mistress to an event to taunt his wife? Trump managed to launch an attack that couldn’t be less relevant to his opponent’s qualifications or more personally cruel. His campaign and his running-mate later said that it was all a big joke. No matter. Whether in earnest or in jest, Trump showed his tendency to humiliate others.
In a unique, home-spun experiment, researchers found that centripetal force could help people pass kidney stones—before they become a serious health-care cost.
East Lansing, Michigan, becomes a ghost town during spring break. Families head south, often to the theme parks in Orlando. A week later, the Midwesterners return sunburned and bereft of disposable income, and, urological surgeon David Wartinger noticed, some also come home with fewer kidney stones.
Wartinger is a professor emeritus at Michigan State, where he has dealt for decades with the scourge of kidney stones, which affect around one in 10 people at some point in life. Most are small, and they pass through us without issue. But many linger in our kidneys and grow, sending hundreds of thousands of people to emergency rooms and costing around $3.8 billion every year in treatment and extraction. The pain of passing a larger stone is often compared to child birth.
Who will win the debates? Trump’s approach was an important part of his strength in the primaries. But will it work when he faces Clinton onstage?
The most famous story about modern presidential campaigning now has a quaint old-world tone. It’s about the showdown between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy in the first debate of their 1960 campaign, which was also the very first nationally televised general-election debate in the United States.
The story is that Kennedy looked great, which is true, and Nixon looked terrible, which is also true—and that this visual difference had an unexpected electoral effect. As Theodore H. White described it in his hugely influential book The Making of the President 1960, which has set the model for campaign coverage ever since, “sample surveys” after the debate found that people who had only heard Kennedy and Nixon talking, over the radio, thought that the debate had been a tie. But those who saw the two men on television were much more likely to think that Kennedy—handsome, tanned, non-sweaty, poised—had won.
Communal living is hardly a departure from tradition—it's a return to how humans have been making their homes for thousands of years.
For most of human history, people were hunter-gatherers. They lived in large camps, depending on one another for food, childcare, and everything else—all without walls, doors, or picket fences. In comparison, the number of people living in most households in today’s developed countries is quite small. According to the Census Bureau, fewer than three people lived in the average American household in 2010. The members of most American households can be counted on one hand, or even, increasingly, one finger: Single-person households only made up about 13 percent of all American households in 1960. Now, that figure is about 28 percent.
Belonging to a relatively small household has become the norm even though it can make daily life more difficult in many ways. Privacy may be nice, but cooking and doing chores become much less time-consuming when shared with an additional person, or even several people. Water, electric, and internet bills also become more bearable when divided among multiple residents. There are social downsides to living alone, too. Many elderly people, young professionals, stay-at-home parents, and single people routinely spend long stretches of time at home alone, no matter how lonely they may feel; more distressingly, many single parents face the catch-22 of working and paying for childcare. Living in smaller numbers can be a drain on money, time, and feelings of community, and the rise of the two-parent dual-earning household only compounds the problems of being time-poor.
The Donald J. Trump Foundation reportedly used $258,000, most of it other people’s money, to settle legal disputes for the Republican nominee.
For people at certain income levels, finding creative ways to avoid taxes is practically a leisure sport. Donald Trump, golf and casino magnate that he is, would never miss out on a leisure sport, would be?
In a new article, The Washington Post’s David Fahrenthold, who’s already collected a series of scoops on the Donald J. Trump Foundation, reports that Trump sometimes had people who owed him money pay his foundation instead—to the tune of at least $2.3 million. That’s legal, provided that the person who would have received the income still pays taxes on the money, which is where things get unclear. A Trump adviser initially denied that Trump had ever directed fees to his foundation, but when presented with evidence that he had a $400,000 fee for appearing on a Comedy Central roast (nice work if you can get it) sent to the foundation, the adviser said Trump had paid taxes on it. But he refused to say whether Trump had paid taxes on the rest of the $2.3 million.
A new study of pregnant women finds nausea and vomiting are associated with a reduced risk of miscarriage.
People are always saying the wrong thing to pregnant women.
Expectant mothers hear everything from the obnoxious (“You’re huge!”) to the outright bizarre (“If you eat that Sriracha, your baby will come out bald”).
Then there are the well-meaning—yet utterly unhelpful—superstitions and platitudes: “I can tell from how you’re carrying that it’s a girl.” (No, you can’t.) “At least the terrible sleep you’re getting now is great preparation for all those sleepless nights you’re going to have with baby!” (Bone-splitting exhaustion is not something you need to practice ahead of time.) “But morning sickness means your baby is healthy!”
Actually, there might be something to that last one.
Pregnant women have long been told that feeling miserable every single day for several months may indicate that a developing baby is doing well—especially in the first trimester, when nausea and vomiting are most common. Now, there’s more science to support the idea.
Narcissism, disagreeableness, grandiosity—a psychologist investigates how Trump’s extraordinary personality might shape his possible presidency.
In 2006, Donald Trump made plans to purchase the Menie Estate, near Aberdeen, Scotland, aiming to convert the dunes and grassland into a luxury golf resort. He and the estate’s owner, Tom Griffin, sat down to discuss the transaction at the Cock & Bull restaurant. Griffin recalls that Trump was a hard-nosed negotiator, reluctant to give in on even the tiniest details. But, as Michael D’Antonio writes in his recent biography of Trump, Never Enough, Griffin’s most vivid recollection of the evening pertains to the theatrics. It was as if the golden-haired guest sitting across the table were an actor playing a part on the London stage.
“It was Donald Trump playing Donald Trump,” Griffin observed. There was something unreal about it.