The only way to close the budget deficit is to close the jobs deficit
It's State of the Union season, which means it's time for the usual suspects to tell President Obama to "go big" on the deficit. Never mind that jobs, not the deficit, top voters' list of priorities, or that austerity has failed everywhere it's been tried recently (includinghere). It's always a good time to lament the lack of bipartisan golf-playing and call for a grand bargain.
But what exactly makes a bargain grand in Washington? It's not just a matter of trading spending cuts for higher taxes. If it were, the combination of the sequester and the fiscal cliff tax deal would count. No, it has to be a specific kind of spending cut. It has to be a cut to social insurance. That's what Obama has offered with chained CPI, which cuts Social Security and raises taxes by using a lower measure of inflation to calculate benefits and brackets, but Republicans and centrist pundits don't think that's enough. They want Obama to increase the Medicare eligibility age from 65 to 67 too. Now, this sounds like the kind of "painful choice" that will put us on the path to fiscal sustainability, but it's not. The Congressional Budget Office figures it will only save about $150 billion over a decade, while, as Matthew Yglesias of Slate points out, costing patients twice that much. (If every state implements Obamacare's Medicaid expansion, it might not be regressive; just wasteful.).
In other words, it's inefficient savings that wouldn't even save all that much.
But wait. What are we even talking about? Are we worried about today's deficit or tomorrow's deficit? Today's deficit is about unemployment, full stop. Tomorrow's deficit is about rising healthcare costs amidst an aging society. These problems have nothing to do with each other. Which one are we trying to solve right now?
Okay, wait again. I can hear you saying But the deficit is about too much spending, not too much unemployment. And that brings us to the most important chart about the deficit you'll ever see. As Joe Weisenthal of Business Insider points out with the graph below of (inverted) surplus-or-deficit-as-a-share-of-GDP and unemployment, there's historically been a pretty correlation between them. Whether unemployment spikes or recedes, deficits follow.
(Note: The blue line shows the surplus-or-deficit-as-share-of-GDP inverted, and the red line shows the unemployment rate).
Unemployment isn't just a human disaster. It's a fiscal one too. Higher unemployment means lower tax revenue, and higher spending on safety net programs like food stamps -- that is, bigger deficits. And that means bringing down unemployment is the only way to bring down the deficit. Trying to slash the deficit during a depression -- in other words, a liquidity trap -- will only make unemployment worse, and hence leave the deficit little, if at all, better (and perhaps worse). This is hardly a novel insight. As Mike Konczal of the Roosevelt Institute discovered, John Maynard Keynes said as much all the way back in 1933, when he said policymakers just need to "look after unemployment, and the Budget will look after itself."
In other words, unemployment hawks are the real deficit hawks.
There's an irony here. The people who care about the deficit in the long run want to increase it in the short run. (As Brad DeLong asks, who said Keynes didn't care about the long run?). More infrastructure spending, more payroll tax cuts, and more debt writedowns and refinancings are the best ways to put people back to work now that the Fed is doing about as much as it's going to do (though it should do more). All of those things mean bigger deficits today, but bigger deficits today are worth a recovery tomorrow.
And no, austerity would not be some kind of magical elixir -- a stimulant, if you will -- for "confidence". With interest rates stuck at zero, austerity has only hurt growth wherever it's been tried the past few years. The evidence on this from Europe is quite clear, but here's some more, from our side of the pond: Atif Mian of Princeton and Amir Sufi of the University of Chicago recently looked at state-level data in the U.S., and found that too little aggregate demand, not too much uncertainty, is what's holding the economy back today. In other words, businesses are worried where their customers are going to come from, not where their taxes are going to go. Trying to cut our way to confidence won't help when that isn't the problem. It will only make our real problem -- too little demand -- worse.
That doesn't mean we shouldn't worry about long-term healthcare costs. It's just not clear how much we should worry about it. As former OMB director Peter Orszag points out, national healthcare inflation slowed to 3.8 percent in 2012 after annually increasing by more than 10 percent much of the preceding decade. Now, as Annie Lowrey of The New York Times explains, it's something of a mystery what is going on here-- is this slowdown just due to the Great Recession, or is it something else? -- but the takeaway is we have to bit more time than we thought to figure out how to keep bending the cost curve.
There are three, hardly mutually exclusive, endgames when it comes to containing healthcare costs: (1) the cost-controls in Obamacare, like IPAB, work; (2) the government uses Medicare's bargaining power to negotiate better prices from doctors and drug-makers; or (3) the government voucherizes Medicare, and hopes competition keeps prices down. This last option sounds great -- who doesn't like competition? -- but, as economist Kenneth Arrow famously argued, the healthcare market doesn't work like other markets. "Consumers" -- that is, patients -- don't exactly have the expertise to shop around for the best deal on, say, heart surgery. Nor do they decide what to pay for. Insurers do that. There's little empirical reason to expect big savings out of increased competition -- with plenty of potential downside if the vouchers don't turn out to be generous enough.
This is the debate over Medicare's future, not whether to increase the eligibility or not. But it's tomorrow's debate. Today's debate is what we can do to put people back to work. The former is hard enough, without making it a pre-condition for solving the latter.
Jobs are the only thing that will make the state of our deficit better.
Hillary Clinton’s realistic attitude is the only thing that can effect change in today’s political climate.
Bernie Sanders and Ted Cruz have something in common. Both have an electoral strategy predicated on the ability of a purist candidate to revolutionize the electorate—bringing droves of chronic non-voters to the polls because at last they have a choice, not an echo—and along the way transforming the political system. Sanders can point to his large crowds and impressive, even astonishing, success at tapping into a small-donor base that exceeds, in breadth and depth, the remarkable one built in 2008 by Barack Obama. Cruz points to his extraordinarily sophisticated voter-identification operation, one that certainly seemed to do the trick in Iowa.
But is there any real evidence that there is a hidden “sleeper cell” of potential voters who are waiting for the signal to emerge and transform the electorate? No. Small-donor contributions are meaningful and a sign of underlying enthusiasm among a slice of the electorate, but they represent a tiny sliver even of that slice; Ron Paul’s success at fundraising (and his big crowds at rallies) misled many analysts into believing that he would make a strong showing in Republican primaries when he ran for president. He flopped.
Thenew Daily Show host, Trevor Noah, is smooth and charming, but he hasn’t found his edge.
It’s a psychic law of the American workplace: By the time you give your notice, you’ve already left. You’ve checked out, and for the days or weeks that remain, a kind of placeholder-you, a you-cipher, will be doing your job. It’s a law that applies equally to dog walkers, accountants, and spoof TV anchormen. Jon Stewart announced that he was quitting The Daily Show in February 2015, but he stuck around until early August, and those last months had a restless, frazzled, long-lingering feel. A smell of ashes was in the air. The host himself suddenly looked quite old: beaky, pique-y, hollow-cheeky. For 16 years he had shaken his bells, jumped and jangled in his little host’s chair, the only man on TV who could caper while sitting behind a desk. Flash back to his first episode as the Daily Show host, succeeding Craig Kilborn: January 11, 1999, Stewart with floppy, luscious black hair, twitching in a new suit (“I feel like this is my bar mitzvah … I have a rash like you wouldn’t believe.”) while he interviews Michael J. Fox.
I coined the term—now I’ve come back to fix what I started.
O reader, hear my plea: I am the victim of semantic drift.
Four months ago, I coined the term “Berniebro” to describe a phenomenon I saw on Facebook: Men, mostly my age, mostly of my background, mostly with my political beliefs, were hectoring their friends about how great Bernie was even when their friends wanted to do something else, like talk about the NBA.
In the post, I tried to gently suggest that maybe there were other ways to advance Sanders’s beliefs, many of which I share. I hinted, too, that I was not talking about every Sanders supporter. I did this subtly, by writing: “The Berniebro is not every Sanders supporter.”
Then, 28,000 people shared the story on Facebook. The Berniebro was alive! Immediately, I started getting emails: Why did I hate progressivism? Why did I joke about politics? And how dare I generalize about every Bernie Sanders supporter?
The championship game descends on a city failing to deal with questions of affordability and inclusion.
SAN FRANCISCO—The protest kicked off just a few feet from Super Bowl City, the commercial playground behind security fences on the Embarcadero, where football fans were milling about drinking beer, noshing on $18 bacon cheeseburgers, and lining up for a ride on a zip line down Market Street.
The protesters held up big green camping tents painted with slogans such as “End the Class War” and “Stop Stealing Our Homes,” and chanted phrases blaming San Francisco Mayor Ed Lee for a whole range of problems, including the catchy “Hey Hey, Mayor Lee, No Penalty for Poverty.” They blocked the sidewalk, battling with tourists, joggers, and city workers, some of whom were trying to wheel their bikes through the crowd to get to the ferries that would take them home.
Bernie Sanders doggedly pursued his one big idea about reforming American politics, while Hillary Clinton detailed her many proposals for change.
With the New Hampshire primaries just days away, Democrats Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders met on a debate stage in Durham on Thursday. In their first one-on-one matchup, the duo seemed determined to illustrate Archilochus’s classic binary between the fox, who knows many things, and the hedgehog, who knows one important thing. Sanders knows that what the country needs—the only thing it needs—is a political and economic revolution. Clinton knows the country needs progressive policies on a range of matters and a pragmatic, realistic strategy to implement them.
That divide was clear from their opening statements, with Sanders immediately jumping to his familiar mantra about a rigged economy and a corrupt campaign-finance scheme. Clinton’s answer was not so laser focused, discussing a general need for the nation to “live up to our values in the 21st century,” and checking off not just the economy, but racism, sexism, and more. This split is not new, of course, but with Martin O’Malley off the stage and out of the race, and the Democratic contest tighter than ever, the division has never been so clear. It led to an unusually interesting debate, with the two candidates frequently addressing each other directly and delving into detail.
Overly persistent pursuit is a staple of movie love stories, but a new study shows that it could normalize some troubling behaviors.
Romantic comedies are supposed to be escapist—a jaunt into a better, more colorful world where journalists can afford giant New York apartments and no obstacle to love is too great to overcome.
Except that when you think about it, some of the behavior portrayed as romantic in these movies is, objectively, creepy. The Love Actually sign guy was totally out of line, and honestly, Lloyd Dobler from Say Anything was pushing it with his famous jukebox. Even the supposedly “pure” love of cute baby-faced Joseph Gordon Levitt as Cameron in 10 Things I Hate About You involves teaching himself just enough French that he can pose as a tutor and hang out with his beloved. Oh, and hiring a guy to go out with her sister.
The most surreal moment in the Democratic debate came when one of America’s most powerful insiders took umbrage at an accurate characterization of who she represents.
Last week, I flagged Damon Linker’s column lamenting the fact that so many members of the Republican establishment are in denial about their place. “By thinking of themselves as perennially outside the Republican power-structure,” he argued, they “exempt themselves from the need to admit and learn from their own mistakes. It’s always someone else’s fault. The Iraq War and its outcome may be the most egregious and disgraceful example of such shirking, but it’s not the only one.”
I applied his logic to Rush Limbaugh, who gets invited to the White House every time a Republican is elected, socializes with GOP power brokers, has their ear five days a week, and yet speaks about them as if describing a bitter enemy totally alien to him.
What happened when 11 exiles armed themselves for a violent night in the Gambia
In the dark hours of the morning on December 30, 2014, eight men gathered in a graveyard a mile down the road from the official residence of Yahya Jammeh, the president of the Gambia. The State House overlooks the Atlantic Ocean from the capital city of Banjul, on an island at the mouth of the Gambia River. It was built in the 1820s and served as the governor’s mansion through the end of British colonialism, in 1965. Trees and high walls separate the house from the road, obscuring any light inside.
The men were dressed in boots and dark pants, and as two of them stood guard, the rest donned Kevlar helmets and leather gloves, strapped on body armor and CamelBaks, and loaded their guns. Their plan was to storm the presidential compound, win over the military, and install their own civilian leader. They hoped to gain control of the country by New Year’s Day.
I agree with David Graham’s summing up of the “hedgehog-vs.-fox” nature of the Democratic debate last night, and with nearly all of the Atlantic liveblogging that is now collected below David’s piece. (I missed the liveblogging boat because I hadn’t thought I’d see the debate. When I did, I sent out penséeson Twitter.)
Three points about the debate:
1) As an exchange of ideas—and as a display of contrasting outlooks, casts of mind, temperament, goals, frames of reference, theories of politics, etc — these two hours were more valuable than all the previous stretches of “debate” put together.
More simply, this one actually was a debate, in contrast to the previous Survivor-style contests for attention or Wrestlemania-style displays of posturing. (By the way, if you haven’t seen the video of Donald Trump shaving Vince McMahon’s head in a wrestling ring, watch it soon.) The others have been side-by-side displays of putdowns, talking points, and pleas for attention. This one was two people arguing about policies, past records, and future plans.
U.S. presidential candidates are steering the country toward a terror trap.
For close to a decade, the trauma of the Iraq War left Americans wary of launching new wars in the Middle East. That caution is largely gone. Most of the leading presidential candidates demand that the United States escalate its air war in Iraq and Syria, send additional Special Forces, or enforce a buffer zone, which the head of Central Command, General Lloyd Austin, has said would require deploying U.S. ground troops. Most Americans now favor doing just that.
The primary justification for this new hawkishness is stopping the Islamic State, or isis, from striking the United States. Which is ironic, because at least in the short term, America’s intervention will likely spark more terrorism against the United States, thus fueling demands for yet greater military action. After a period of relative restraint, the United States is heading back into the terror trap.