You've heard of an international market for superstar soccer players. We need an international market for superstar central bankers.
[ Reuters ]
Great Britain gets a lot of things wrong, like food and spelling. But here's something they get right: They're willing to poach the best central bankers from around the world for the top spots at the Bank of England.
The UK is hardly alone on this. They're just particularly aggressive about it. Their latest target is Mark Carney, the current chief of the Bank of Canada. Before that, though, they snatched up American economist Adam Posen -- an expert on Japan's lost decade -- to serve on their monetary policy committee. You've heard of an international market for superstar soccer players and Olympic coaches. This is an international market for superstar central bankers.
It got me thinking: How much is a good central banker worth? Consider this chart. The blue line shows where our economy could, and should, be if it had kept growing at its long-term trend since 2008. The red line shows where we actually are. The difference between the two is the so-called output gap. (Note: These dollar figures are not adjusted for inflation).
We're in about a trillion-dollar hole. And that's a trillion dollars every year. Even if we get "Morning in America: The Sequel" and the economy rapidly reverts to its long-term trend, we'll forever be $4 trillion poorer than we would have otherwise been.
Let's try a thought experiment. Say that Lars Svensson -- one of the world's top monetary economists and the current deputy governor of Sweden's central bank, the Riksbank -- could get our economy back to trend in half the time Ben Bernanke could. It's actually plausible-ish. Like Bernanke, Svensson spent his academic career championing unconventional monetary policy as a "foolproof" way to escape a liquidity trap. (Coincidentally, they were colleagues at Princeton). But unlike Bernanke, Svensson's Riksbank has been much more willing than Bernanke's Fed to experiment with these kind of heterodox policies. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sweden's recovery has been the envy of the developed world. So I ask again: How much is a good central banker worth? Put simply, how much cash should we throw at Svensson to steal him away from Sweden?
That's another way of asking how long it will take the economy to return to trend. Here's where things get really depressing. According to Fed Vice Chair Janet Yellen, we won't get back to full employment until after 2018. If we assume the output gap will steadily shrink until then, that leaves us with roughly another $4 trillion in lost income. Maybe more. If Svensson really could double our recovery speed, he'd be worth $2 trillion to us. Even if that's being wildly optimistic, something on the order of hundreds of billions of dollars probably isn't. Tell me that wouldn't be worth paying Svensson a billion dollars a year. Maybe more.
The above suggestion is obviously a bit tongue-in-cheek ... but not completely. Right now, central bankers are paid almost entirely in prestige. Ben Bernanke is making just $199,700 this year. That's not to say that we need to pay central bankers more to attract the best ones. We don't. Economists really care about prestige.
This doesn't necessarily lead to the most efficient allocation of monetary economists. As Matt Yglesias pointed out, we'd ideally have economists prove their central banking chops in smaller countries before moving up to the big leagues of the Fed or the ECB or the Bank of England. Put a bit less diplomatically: Sweden is important, but it's a relative waste of Svensson's talents not to have him running a bigger central bank. (Not that I have anything against Sweden). Here comes the "to be sure" sentence: It wouldn't be enough just to import Svensson. As L.A. Galaxy fans can tell you, bringing in one (albeit, overrated) superstar like David Beckham doesn't help much if his teammates are only mediocre. We'd need to create a Federal Reserve board equivalent of the Super Friends for Svensson to make the biggest difference. We might even find out that we already have a superstar in Bernanke in that scenario.
Central banking should be a superstar profession. The difference between a top central banker and an average one can be astronomical, particularly when conventional policy is impotent. An efficient market would pay them accordingly. If the United States spent $10 billion assembling a central banking fantasy lineup of Lars Svensson, Stanley Fischer, Adam Posen, and Christina Romer, it would probably be a phenomenal investment. It'd pay for itself many, many times over. The biggest challenge is changing the norms around central banking. We shouldn't just consider the top American economists for the top spots.
We're a nation of immigrants. The Federal Reserve should reflect that.
Thicker ink, fewer smudges, and more strained hands: an Object Lesson
Recently, Bic launched acampaign to “save handwriting.” Named “Fight for Your Write,” it includes a pledge to “encourage the act of handwriting” in the pledge-taker’s home and community, and emphasizes putting more of the company’s ballpoints into classrooms.
As a teacher, I couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could think there’s a shortage. I find ballpoint pens all over the place: on classroom floors, behind desks. Dozens of castaways collect in cups on every teacher’s desk. They’re so ubiquitous that the word “ballpoint” is rarely used; they’re just “pens.” But despite its popularity, the ballpoint pen is relatively new in the history of handwriting, and its influence on popular handwriting is more complicated than the Bic campaign would imply.
Early photographs of the architecture and culture of Peking in the 1870s
In May of 1870, Thomas Child was hired by the Imperial Maritime Customs Service to be a gas engineer in Peking (Beijing). The 29-year-old Englishman left behind his wife and three children to become one of roughly 100 foreigners living in the late Qing dynasty's capital, taking his camera along with him. Over the course of the next 20 years, he took some 200 photographs, capturing the earliest comprehensive catalog of the customs, architecture, and people during China's last dynasty. On Thursday, an exhibition of his images will open at the Sidney Mishkin Gallery in New York, curated by Stacey Lambrow. In addition, descendants of the subjects of one of his most famous images, Bride and Bridegroom (1870s), will be in attendance.
“Consumers are jaded about advertising in a way they weren’t several decades ago.”
MasterCard unveiled its new logo earlier this summer, and as far as rebrandings go, the tweaks were subtle: The company kept its overlapping red and yellow balls intact, and moved its name, which was previously front and center, to beneath the balls, while making the text lowercase. With increasing frequency, MasterCard said, it would do away with using its name in the logo entirely. The focus would be more on the symbol than the words.
MasterCard’s move reflects a wider shift among some of the most widely recognized global brands to de-emphasize the text in their logos, or remove it altogether. Nike was among the first brands to do this, in 1995, when its swoosh began to appear with the words “Just Do It,” and then without any words at all. Apple, McDonald’s, and other brands followed a similar trajectory, gravitating toward entirely textless symbols after a period of transition with logos that had taglines like “Think Different” or “I’m lovin’ it.”
Even in big cities like Tokyo, small children take the subway and run errands by themselves. The reason has a lot to do with group dynamics.
It’s a common sight on Japanese mass transit: Children troop through train cars, singly or in small groups, looking for seats.
They wear knee socks, polished patent-leather shoes, and plaid jumpers, with wide-brimmed hats fastened under the chin and train passes pinned to their backpacks. The kids are as young as 6 or 7, on their way to and from school, and there is nary a guardian in sight.
A popular television show called Hajimete no Otsukai, or My First Errand, features children as young as two or three being sent out to do a task for their family. As they tentatively make their way to the greengrocer or bakery, their progress is secretly filmed by a camera crew. The show has been running for more than 25 years.
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.
Trump’s misogyny is shocking because it’s so brazen, but it’s infuriating because it’s so familiar. Chances are, if you’re a woman in 2016, you’ve heard it all before.
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The first time you meet Donald Trump, he’s an older male relative who smells like cigarettes and asks when you are going to lose that weight. You’re nine years old. Your parents have to go out and buy a bottle of vodka for him before he arrives. His name is Dick. No, really, it is. At dinner one night, he explains to you that black people are dangerous. “If you turn around, they’ll put a knife in your back.” Except Bill Cosby. “He’s one of the good ones.” Turns out he’s wrong about Cosby and everything else, but the statute of limitations on Dick’s existence on Earth will run out before that information is widely available.
Most campaign ads, like most billboards or commercials, are unimaginative and formulaic. Our candidate is great! Their candidate is terrible! Choose us!
With the huge majority of political ads, you would look back on them long after the campaign only for time-warp curio purposes—Look at the clothes they wore in the 80s! Look how corny “I like Ike!” was as a slogan! Look how young [Mitch McConnell / Bill Clinton / Al Gore] once was!—or to find archeological samples of the political mood of a given era.
The few national-campaign ads that are remembered earn their place either because they were so effective in shifting the tone of the campaign, as with George H. W. Bush’s race-baiting “Willie Horton” ad against Michael Dukakis in 1988; or because they so clearly presented the candidate in the desired light, as with Ronald Reagan’s famous “Morning in America” ad in 1984. Perhaps the most effective campaign advertisement ever, especially considering that it was aired only one time, was Lyndon Johnson’s devastating “Daisy Girl” ad, from his campaign against Barry Goldwater in 1964. The power of the Daisy Girl ad was of course its dramatizing the warning that Goldwater might recklessly bring on a nuclear war.
In Greenwich, Darien, and New Canaan, Connecticut, bankers are earning astonishing amounts. Does that have anything to do with the poverty in Bridgeport, just a few exits away?
BRIDGEPORT, Conn.—Few places in the country illustrate the divide between the haves and the have-nots more than the county of Fairfield, Connecticut. Drive around the city of Bridgeport and, amid the tracts of middle-class homes, you’ll see burned-out houses, empty factories, and abandoned buildings that line the main street. Nearby, in the wealthier part of the county, there are towns of mansions with leafy grounds, swimming pools, and big iron gates.
Bridgeport, an old manufacturing town all but abandoned by industry, and Greenwich, a headquarters to hedge funds and billionaires, may be in the same county, and a few exits apart from each other on I-95, but their residents live in different worlds. The average income of the top 1 percent of people in the Bridgeport-Stamford-Norwalk metropolitan area, which consists of all of Fairfield County plus a few towns in neighboring New Haven County, is $6 million dollars—73 times the average of the bottom 99 percent—according to a report released by the Economic Policy Institute (EPI) in June. This makes the area one of the most unequal in the country; nationally, the top 1 percent makes 25 times more than the average of the bottom 99 percent.
How Washington men working in national security dress—for better or for worse
In 2017, shortly after the next president is inaugurated, thousands of newly appointed federal officials will struggle with the same existential question: What do I wear to my first day of work? I understand their anxiety, having languished over wardrobe during eight years of federal service and pondered the fashion choices of my male colleagues during the interminable meetings that are the hallmark of government work. It’s hard to point to a solid “real world” professional competency that I learned during those years of meetings and memo writing, but one skill I developed is an uncanny ability to tell you where any man in the national security community works based on his apparel. But first, to understand the fashion choices these professionals make, you must understand the culture—and keep in mind that not every employee falls into these stereotyped camps. (I’m also leaving a thorough assessment of female fashion to other writers more qualified.)
The Texas senator’s about-face risks undermining his political brand and alienating the supporters who hailed his defiant stand in Cleveland.
Ted Cruz set aside his many differences with Donald Trump on Friday to endorse for president a man whom he once called a “serial philanderer,” a “pathological liar,” “utterly amoral,” and a “sniveling coward”; who insulted his wife’s looks; who insinuated Cruz’s father was involved in the assassination of John F. Kennedy; who said he wouldn’t even accept his endorsement; and who for months mocked him mercilessly with a schoolyard taunt, “Lyin’ Ted.”
The Texas senator announced his support for the Republican nominee late Friday afternoon in a Facebook post, writing that the possibility of a Hillary Clinton presidency was “wholly unacceptable” and that he was keeping his year-old commitment to back the party’s choice. Cruz listed six policy-focused reasons why he was backing Trump, beginning with the importance of appointing conservatives to the Supreme Court and citing Trump’s recently expanded list of potential nominees. Other reasons included Obamacare—which Trump has vowed to repeal—immigration, national security, and Trump’s newfound support for Cruz’s push against an Obama administration move to relinquish U.S. oversight of an internet master directory of web addresses.