Monetary policy still works at the ZLB

In case anybody was wondering, monetary policy definitely still has an effect at the zero lower bound.  In the UK, the banks have unwittingly (and certainly unwillingly) been part of a demonstration of a so-called helicopter-drop of money.  In a country of 60 million people, by mid 2008 there were over 20 million Payment Production Insurance (PPI) policies in effect and that number was growing fast.  In early 2011, they were ruled to have been mis-sold (customers were deemed, in general, to have been pressured or deceived into buying insurance they didn’t need) and banks were ordered to offer compensation.  Wikipedia has a summary here. From a pair of articles in the FT ([1], [2]):

[Article 1] About £4.8bn had already been paid out by the end of May – effectively acting as “helicopter money” dropped into the hands of those people who may be among the most likely to spend it.

[Article 2] The independent Office for Budget Responsibility, relying on estimates that PPI refunds would deliver £6bn over the year, revised up its estimate of the growth rate of real disposable household income by 0.5 percentage points in March from its November figure … the amounts set aside for PPI redress by the five biggest banks have now soared to almost £9bn.

[Article 2] The FSA said it does not know the average payout per claimant. But some of the “complaints management” companies, which have been making aggressive pitches to help consumers get their money back, say these average £2,000 to £3,000 per applicant.

[Article 1] “When I heard I was going to get over £2,000 in compensation I hired builders to fix a long-overdue problem with the eaves in my roof and put the rest of the money towards a holiday to Greece in September,” said Elaine Overten, a retired nurse from Derbyshire, who received compensation for PPI payments made on her NatWest mortgage over 10 years.

I just love the little (and not remotely subtle) hint from the FT that monetary stimulus would help Greece out of their hole.

Anyway, the point is simple.  If you put money in people’s hands, especially if those people are “credit constrained,” they will spend it.  That was the point of my “Monetary policy for 10 year olds” post a while ago.  It remains the point today.  It will always be the point.

The problem, of course, is that while PPI compensation payouts are acting as a positive stimulus, the corresponding hit to the banks will be causing them to hold back in their lending and so provide a negative stimulus at the same time.  If I had to guess, I’d say that the net effect of PPI compensation is to provide a positive stimulus because of the broad distribution and, I assume, the fact that a large fraction of the recipients really are currently credit constrained.

It’s not a fiscal union and Cameron didn’t veto it

A fiscal union would have transfers from various parts of the union to various other parts over the business cycle.  A guarantee to stand behind somebody’s debt while simultaneously insisting that you’ll never actually need to cough up a cent because you’ve made them pinky swear is not a fiscal union.

A veto stops a thing from happening (think of the UN Security Council).  The fiscal compact is going to go ahead, just without Britain.  Therefore, Britain did not veto it; they declined to take part.

That is all.

Update:

Okay, that isn’t quite all.  Just to be clear, I think that Cameron did the wrong thing.  I believe that, at a minimum, he should have committed to bringing the proposal to the UK parliament.  It may well have been voted down at that point, but nevertheless it should have happened.  Parliament is sovereign in the UK.  This was a serious proposal with potentially significant consequences from either agreeing to it or walking away from it; the people of Britain deserved to have their elected representatives decide.

I am undecided on whether signing up to the pact would be in the best interests of the UK.

To what extent should the media mention that somebody is from a minority?

It turns out that Tim Cook, the new CEO of Apple, is gay.

Felix Salmon suggests that this makes him the most powerful gay man on earth (an idea of which I am sceptical – surely at least one head of state among all the nations of the world has been queer at some point) and that the media ought to be celebrating this fact, or at least making mention of it:

Personally, I don’t care.  Why should I?  Fundamentally, the only relevant facts are those that inform me about his ability to do his job, and knowing whether he’s a member of ethnic group X, holds religious view Y or is turned on by Z is of no use in that regard.

In a completely post-bigotry world, those things might (or might not!) be included in a puff piece that wanted to tell you about Tim Cook, the man, as a sort of background colour (“raised a Catholic, Mary-Anne’s atheism was a source of family friction in her early adulthood, but …”), but they’d play no part in people’s opinion of him as a manager and so would never appear in a serious article about the future direction of whichever company he works for.

Salmon’s point, I believe, is that (a) we’re not in a post-bigotry world and so there is a lead-by-example case for publicising Cook’s sexuality in the same way that people discussed that Hillary Clinton is female and Barack Obama is black; and (b) even if we were, the media is going out of its way to make no mention of it even in the puff pieces, that it’s going out of its way to self-gag and so, ironically, subtly reinforcing the closet.

I dunno.  I think that stuff like this is only relevant to public discourse — even puff-piece writing — if at some point it helped shape the subject’s motivations in life.  Furthermore, I believe that for at least some queer people now, and eventually for all of them, their sexuality (will have) played absolutely no role in shaping their motivations in anything other than who to look for in a partner.

As such, I’m instinctively sceptical of a need to draw attention to it.  Not even the puffiest of puff pieces would spend time discussing people’s preferences over ice cream flavours unless the subject made a point of bringing up their obsession with chocolate-mint.

When it comes to playing a role as a societal leader, I can’t help but feel that it’s up to Mr. Cook to decide for himself.

Dani and I rewatched “Good Will Hunting” last night.  I think there’s a parallel with the kid who’s a genius.  I always get angry when Ben Affleck’s character (the well-meaning, but idiot friend) tells Matt Damon’s character (the genius) that “you don’t owe it to yourself man, you owe it to me … ‘Cause I’d do fuckin’ anything to have what you got. So would any of these fuckin’ guys. It’d be an insult to us if you’re still here in 20 years” [IMDB].  It’s Rawls’ veil of ignorance turned arse-end backwards.  It’s also complete rubbish.

I can see a moral argument for why Rawls’ veil implies that society at large should help people who drew particularly shitty numbers, but why should any one individual be required to do something just because they drew a particularly awesome number?  The whole goddamn point of Rawls’ veil is that nobody consents to it in the first place and so, as a society, we ought to not force people into the pigeon-hole that the lottery put them in.  Just because you were born into a poor family doesn’t mean you have to stay poor.   Just because you’re black doesn’t mean you have to like basketball.  Just because you have an IQ of 180 doesn’t mean you must do research.  Messers Affleck and Damon need to reread “Brave New World”.

Nobody can deny that Barrack Obama is black, but the extent to which he makes speeches to the black community declaring that they can be black, proud and successful is entirely up to him.  People working to bring about racial equality might feel he has an obligation, but he really doesn’t.

If Tim Cook wants to try to improve the acceptance of gay people in society at large, he can, but the idea of saying that he ought to just because he’s gay himself is illiberal.

Ayn Rand, small government and the charitable sector

The Economist’s blog, Democracy in America, has a post from a few days ago — “Tax Day”, for Americans, is the 15th of April — looking at Ayn Rand’s rather odd view of government.  Ms. Rand, apparently, did not oppose the existence of a (limited) government spending public money, but did oppose the raising of that money through coercive taxation.

Here’s the almost-anonymous W.W., writing at The Economist:

This left her in the odd and almost certainly untenable position of advocating a minimal state financed voluntarily. In her essay “Government Financing in a Free Society“, Rand wrote:

“In a fully free society, taxation—or, to be exact, payment for governmental services—would be voluntary. Since the proper services of a government—the police, the armed forces, the law courts—are demonstrably needed by individual citizens and affect their interests directly, the citizens would (and should) be willing to pay for such services, as they pay for insurance.”

This is faintly ridiculous. From one side, the libertarian anarchist will agree that people are willing to pay for these services, but that a government monopoly in their provision will lead only to inefficiency and abuse. From the other side, the liberal statist will defend the government provision of the public goods Rand mentions, but will quite rightly argue that Rand seems not to grasp perhaps the main reason government coercion is needed, especially if one believes, as Rand does, that individuals ought to act in their rational self-interest.

The idea of private goods vs. public goods, I think, is something that Rand would have recognised, if not in the formally defined sense we use today, but I do not think that Rand really knew much about externalities and the ability of carefully-targeted government taxation to improve the allocative efficiency of otherwise free markets.  I think it’s fair to say that she would probably have outright denied the possibility of anything like multiple equilibria and the subsequent possibility of poverty traps.  Furthermore, while she clearly knew about and despised free riders (the moochers  in “Atlas Shrugged“), the idea of their being a problem in her view of voluntarily-financed government apparently never occurred to her.

However, this does give me an excuse to plump for two small ideas of mine:

First, I consider the charitable (i.e. not-for-profit) sector as falling under the same umbrella as the government when I consider how the economy of a country is conceptually divided.  In their expenditure of money, they are essentially the same:  the provision of “public good” services to the country at large, typically under a rubric of helping the most disadvantaged people in society.  It is largely only in they way they raise revenue that they differ.  Rand would simply have preferred that a (far, far) greater fraction of public services be provided through charities.  I suspect, to a fair degree, that the Big Society [official site] push by the Tories in the UK is about a shift in this direction and that, as a corollary, that Mr. Cameron would agree with my characterisation.

Philanthropy UK gives the following figures for the size of the charitable sectors in the UK, USA, Germany and The Netherlands in 2006:

Country Giving (£bn) GDP (£bn) Giving/GDP
UK 14.9 1230 1.1%
USA 145.0 6500 2.2%
Germany 11.3 1533 0.7%
The Netherlands 2.9 340 0.9%

Source: CAF Charity Trends, Giving USA, Then & Spengler (2005 data), Geven in Nederland (2005 data)

Combining this with the total tax revenue as a share of GDP for that same year (2006), we get:

Country Tax Revenue/GDP Giving/GDP Total/GDP
UK 36.5% 1.1% 37.6%
USA 29.9% 2.2% 31.1%
Germany 35.4% 0.7% 36.1%
The Netherlands 39.4% 0.9% 40.3%

Source: OECD for the tax data, Philanthropy UK for the giving data

Which achieves nothing other than to go some small way towards showing that there’s not quite as much variation in “public” spending across countries as we might think.  I’d be interested to see a breakdown of what services are offered by charities across countries (and what share of expenditure they represent).

Second, I occasionally toy with the idea of people being able to allocate some (not all!) of their tax to specific government spending areas.  Think of it being an optional extra page of questions on your tax return.  Sure, money being the fungible thing that it is, the government would be able to shift the remaining funds around and keep spending in the proportions that they wanted to, but it would introduce a great deal more democratic transparency into the process.  I wonder what Ms. Rand (or other modern day libertarians) would make of the idea …

Anyway … let me finish by quoting Will Wilkinson again, in his quoting of Lincoln:

As Abraham Lincoln said so well,

“The legitimate object of government, is to do for a community of people, whatever they need to have done, but can not do, at all, or can not, so well do, for themselves—in their separate, and individual capacities.”

Citizens reasonably resent a government that milks them to feed programmes that fail Lincoln’s test. The inevitable problem in a democracy is that we disagree about which programmes those are. Some economists are fond of saying that “economics is not a morality play”, but like it or not, our attitudes toward taxation are inevitably laden with moral assumptions. It doesn’t help to ignore or casually dismiss them. It seems to me the quality and utility of our public discourse might improve were we to do a better job of making these assumptions explicit.

That last point — of making the moral assumptions of fiscal proposals explicit — would be great, but it is probably (and sadly) a pipe dream.

France is set to ban the burqa and niqab

The French Senate has passed the bill after the General Assembly (lower house) did in July.  From that HuffPo piece in July:

Officials have taken pains to craft language that does not single out Muslims. While the proposed legislation is colloquially referred to as the “anti-burqa law,” it is officially called “the bill to forbid concealing one’s face in public.”

It refers neither to Islam nor to veils. Officials insist the law against face-covering is not discriminatory because it would apply to everyone, not just Muslims. Yet they cite a host of exceptions, including motorcycle helmets, or masks for health reasons, fencing, skiing or carnivals.

I’d really like to read a literal translation of the bill.  I’m curious whether it effectively also bans this sort of thing or this sort of thing.  Do French citizens have a right to privacy?  Wouldn’t this bill violate such a right?

Why I (probably) oppose the RMT’s strikes at London Underground

Here is a quick, dirty and poorly-written explanation why I (probably) oppose the RMT’s strike action at London Underground:

The Tube, like most public services, is a monopoly.  As such, Transport for London (TfL) has pricing power and the ability to extract economic rents from consumers.  To whom would those rents flow?  There are three possible groups:  Capital owners (bonds), Capital owners (equity) and Labour (the suppliers of the stuff, not the political party).

The owners of capital in the form of bonds have no ability to insist on being paid economic rents because they cannot credibly threaten to walk away.  There are plenty of other (institutional) investors that are perfectly happy to step in and receive the low interest rates paid by TfL because TfL has the backing (implicit or otherwise) of the UK government and investors value that security.

The sole owner of capital in the form of equity is the UK government.  They have no desire to extract economic rents.  Indeed, they have an incentive to keep economic rents to a minimum because their existence is, on net, welfare-destroying for Britain as a whole.

That leaves the suppliers of labour.  If no TfL worker was unionised, then individual employees would be unlikely to be able to insist on receiving economic rent (i.e. a wage in excess of the value of their marginal product).  By being unionised, however, the employees have collective bargaining power and are therefore able to insist on economic rents.  They can do this because they can credibly threaten to stop the tube from working.  The current strikes are a demonstration of the credibility of any future threat.

There are two further issues to consider, however.  First:  what if without the union, workers would be unfairly exploited — paid less than the value of their marginal product?  If this were the case, the increased bargaining power of unionisation would be justified as it would offset the exploitation.  This is not a problem, however, because the owner of the Tube — the UK government — is not a a profit maximiser.  It is a (zero-profit seeking) service maximiser.  They have literally no incentive to pay less than the employees are genuinely worth.

Second:  what if, when paid the value of their marginal product, TfL employees end up with incomes that are less than the cost of living?  Once again, this fails as an argument for unionisation of TfL workers.  It is the job of the government to guarantee a living wage to all workers across the country, regardless of their job.  If TfL employees are concerned about this, they should be canvassing for an increase in the national minimum wage, not insisting on a higher wage just for themselves.

Therefore, to a first approximation, there is no justification for the unionisation of (and hence, no justification for the strike action by) London Underground employees.

Don’t put a nappy on me just because you’re mollycoddling idiot #8,749

I hereby present the latest iteration of my telling the world how it ought to be run, damn it.  The topic today is:

With (very low) probability, p, event X might occur at location Y, causing offence, harm or even death to a person of type Z.

There are many examples of this sort of scenario.  Here are a few:

  • X:  Fall off a swing
  • Y: A public park
  • Z: A small child
  • X: Trip and fall
  • Y: Footpaths (sidewalks) with cracks in the concrete
  • Z: Old, clumsy or spatially unaware people
  • X: Bringing your dog
  • Y: The outside seating area of a cafe
  • Z: People that are allergic to, or just have an aversion to, dogs

Here is another, eloquently opposed by M.S. at one of The Economist‘s blogs:

  • X: Drown
  • Y: Lakes in Massachusetts state parks
  • Z: A weak swimmer

I’m sure that you, my eager and most imaginative audience, can describe any number of other examples.

What should we do when confronted with these scenarios?  Most people think that the world positions itself along a line separating, at one end, complete government regulation and at the other, zero government regulation and, instead, the use of tort law and civil suits to restrict the “bad” behaviour.  This is poor logic, however, because it is overly simplistic; it presupposes that we need to do anything at all!

I favour a midway point between regulation and tort law, but more importantly, to my mind, we usually don’t need to do anything when confronted with these possibilities. Life inherently has risks and, while we should act to avoid exacerbating those risks, we should not necessarily seek to remove them altogether.  There are three reasons for this:  First, because removing all risk is simply impossible and it is usually the case that reducing risk in one area causes it to rise in another; second, because exposure to some risk is crucial in the development of well-adjusted people and a properly-functioning society; and third, because to restrict people’s choices in order to lower the risk they face is to deprive them of their basic liberty to choose whether to accept that risk for themselves.

Let me summarise my view in this not-even-remotely-to-scale little plot. Think of the horizontal axis as a measure of how easy it is to demonstrate harm to a point of warranting action by “the authorities.”

There are 10 dots of each colour.  Broadly speaking, Australia and the UK have chosen the government regulation approach.  In Australia, every major political party seems to agree that the “solution” is always more (they would say better) regulation.  In the UK, the Lib Dems and Tories make occasional mutterings suggesting that they might agree with me, but for the most part they’re in lock step with Labour (UK), which likes the status quo.

America is a bit more varied.  By and large, they have adopted the approach of letting tort law and the fear of civil suits induce the effect of (remarkably strict) regulation, but when America does use explicit government regulation, it tends to be something of a light touch.  Democrats seem to want to move closer to the British/Australian model, while Republicans seem to either like their status quo or wish to move to the Libertarian ideal.

Small government / Libertarian idealists typically want no government regulation and, to the extent that things need to be dealt with at all, they want everything to happen through the courts.  Although they want small government, what government they do want, they want to be strong (e.g. in the enforcement of the law).

Speaking about America, M.S. in the above-linked-to Economist entry writes:

I would gladly join any movement that promised to do away with this sort of nonsense. For example, Philip K. Howard’s organisation “Common Good” (TED talk here) works on precisely this agenda. Common Good’s very bugaboo is useless, wasteful legal interference in schools, health care, recreation, and so on. But what you quickly note with many of these issues is that they’re driven by legal liability concerns. You have a snowblader in Colorado suing a resort because she crashed into someone. You have states declining to put up road-hazard signs because the signs prove they knew the hazard was there, which could render them liable for damages. You have the war on children’s playgrounds. The Massachusetts swimming ban, too, is driven by liability concerns. The park officials in Massachusetts aren’t really trying to minimise the risk that you might drown. They’re trying to minimise the risk that you might sue. The problem here, as Mr Howard says, isn’t simply over-regulation as such. It’s a culture of litigiousness and a refusal to accept personal responsibility. When some of the public behave like children, we all get a nanny state.

Which is exactly what I’m saying about America in my summary, but I think (at least, from my reading) that M.S. is assuming that the opposite of a litigious society is personal responsibility.  That’s not true, I’m afraid.  The level of personal responsibility is orthogonal to whether your society chooses litigiousness or state regulation.

Nevertheless, I suspect that M.S. (and Matt Yglesis) and I are on the same side in this debate.  Let people decide for themselves; they’re adults, or should be.  Don’t put a nappy (diaper) on me just because you’re mollycoddling idiot number 8,749 over there.

The perverse incentives of Queensland traffic law

In the Australian state of Queensland, a violation of traffic law is punished by a fine and the awarding of points.  Points for a conviction stay on your licence for three years.  If you ever have 12 points at the same time, you’re in trouble.  I’ll come to that in a moment.

Somebody I know, let’s call him Semaj, has recently got himself up to 11 points.  He doesn’t dispute that he broke the law for all of them; he did.  Most of them came from speeding, but the last three points came from driving through a yellow light.  In Queensland, just like everywhere else on the planet, you must stop at a red light; but for a yellow light, you must stop if you are safely able to do so.  Some people believe that the yellow light should just be to warn drivers that the red is coming and have no penalty tied to it, but that’s not what I want to focus on.  To really rub salt in the wound, the light was still yellow when Semaj left the intersection and the only other car in the area was that of the police officer that booked him.  That’s what those in the business call a “dick move” by the cop, but it’s not what I want to focus on either.  What I want to focus on is …

***

Perverse incentive #1

The punishment for not stopping for a yellow light when you were safely able to is the same as that for not stopping at a red light:  AU$300 and 3 points.  This is absurd, because it fails to make the punishment proportionate to the severity of the crime.  By doing so, the government offers an incentive to people to treat them as equivalent.  To illustrate the point, let me take the idea embedded here in Queensland law to a logical, but ridiculous conclusion:

The violation of all laws should be punishable by the same penalty. A serial rapist-murderer should be locked away for life. Therefore, overstaying your parking for just one minute should lead to your being locked away for life.

See?  Absurd.  Clearly there are gradations of severity and, just as clearly, there should be corresponding gradations of punishment.  If the punishment for running a red light is a fine and 3 points, then the punishment for running a yellow should be a smaller fine and 1 point.

***

Anyway.  Moving on.  Semaj now has 11 points on his licence.  The oldest of his points is only one year old, so he has two full years before any of them are removed.  If he gets even a single point over the next two years, he will be faced with the following choice when he turns up at the Department of Transport to pay his fine:

  • either give up his licence for three months;
  • or go on a probationary licence (with a limit of two points instead of 12) for a full year.

After this, he will be returned a regular full licence entirely clear of points.  Hopefully you can now see …

***

Perverse incentive #2

Semaj is in a position where he would be better off by breaking the law.  The government is giving him an incentive to break the law.  If Semaj follows the law, he will have a one-point buffer for two years, then a three-point buffer for a year before returning to a full licence.  That’s three years in total.  If he deliberately gets caught for a one point infraction tomorrow, he can have a two-point buffer for one year and then go immediately to a full licence.  The cost to him will just be the fine for tomorrow’s infraction; maybe $100.

Who wouldn’t take that option?  It’s crazy.  If you’re going to have a point system with the possibility of a probationary licence, then the length of the probationary period should be long enough that someone in Semaj’s position wouldn’t actually prefer to be on it.

***

As I’ve said before, I believe that all fines issued for misdemeanours should not be for a fixed amount, but for a percentage of the transgressor’s income. When faced with the prospect of a $400 fine, somebody earning $20,000 a year will pay attention, but somebody earning $200,000 will not care nearly as much.  The two people therefore face different incentives when it comes to obeying the law.

Of course, none of this comes close for the most ridiculous traffic law in Queensland.  That most dubious of prizes goes to this piece of nanny-state-run-amok trash:  Drivers on P-plates (that’s a “provisional” licence) “under 25 years of age can only carry one passenger under the age of 21 years who is not an immediate family member, when driving between 11pm on a day and 5am on the next day.”

For reference, the very earliest that somebody in Queensland can move from a provisional to a full licence is at the age of 20.  That is two or three years into university.  Most Queenslanders, if they go to university and don’t take a gap year, would turn 21 in their fourth year.

The “peer passenger restriction” of provisional licences is designed to prevent distraction (from drunk louts in the back seat) to the driver and so, presumably, lead to fewer accidents and thus fewer fatalities.  Whether it ultimately succeeds in reducing road deaths is an empirical question.  I don’t have access to the data, but to my mind there’s a fair possibility that we’ll actually see more road deaths from this, because …

***

Perverse incentive #3

By forcing university-age people to not share a car, the Queensland government is:

  • abandoning the idea of a designated driver; and
  • encouraging more traffic onto the roads at just the time of day when people are least likely to pay full attention to the road (what, did they think that those kids would stay home?).

Both of those effects will serve to push up the accident (and thus, fatality) rates.

If you want to keep drunk 20-year-olds off the roads, then give them a way to avoid them.  Improve public transport.  Lift the licencing restrictions on taxis.

***

Idiots.

America and health care

In the light of the recent passage by the U.S. House of Represenatives of the Senate’s version of healthcare reform and the ensuing wailing, gnashing of teeth and smearing of soot in the hair by opponents of said reform, let me give my view – as an outsider – on the matter:

It’s a question of morality.

It astounds me — and, frankly, every other non-American USA-watcher in the developed world — that the richest nation on earth, whose very constitution proclaims the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness to be it’s highest ideals, whose citizenry so loudly profess to live by Christian virtues, would not guarantee that some form of basic, minimum healthcare be available to all of its citizens independently of their ability to pay.  It utterly astounds me.  If I were American, it would disgust me that this had not happened 50 years ago.

If my income and my wealth is above average for my society, I have an ethical duty to subsidise the health care of those who are, for whatever reason, at the lower end of the spectrum.  Yes, there are issues of free riders and of personal responsibility, but they simply do not matter when answering the basic question.  The government of a country, acting on behalf of that country’s people, has a moral imperative to provide a minimum level of care to all of its citizens.

I am not saying this as a screaming socialist.  I freaking hate socialism.  I love the market (when it’s allowed to function properly with full transparancy).  I support (at least partially, and possibly fully) privitised social security.  I like the idea of small government.  I rage against the nanny-state in Australia and in the UK.  I worry about encouraging dependency and a sence of entitlement in those people assisted by the government.  But those concerns take a back seat on this issue.

So, yes, the second question (a two-for) is to ask what the minimum level should be and how to pay for it.  But first question should have been a no-brainer.

If all the country can afford is a polio shot and a packet of aspirin, then that’s what they should provide (hopefully a charity or two might help out, too).  But if the country is the richest in the history of the planet, they should be able to stump up for a bit more.

And, yes, for the next criticism, this particular reform by the U.S. Congress is nominally promising more than it will reallly provide when it comes to the fiscal deficit.  Yes, again, given America’s political structure, U.S. government spending won’t be truely corrected until there is a real crisis approaching (as opposed to the make-believe crises being proclaimed by people opposed to the bailouts and stimulus package(s)).

I don’t care.  The child of an unemployed, drug-taking high-school dropout should not be deprived of basic access to a doctor just because we’re angry at their parents.  Nor should their parents, come to that.

Thinking about Human Rights (and UNICEF)

Before I begin:  UNICEF has a campaign in the UK at the moment to raise awareness of children being denied their rights around the world.  You can see the homepage for the campaign here.  You can donate here.

Here are some things to keep in mind when thinking about human rights:

  • A right is a particular form of liberty.  It is the freedom to do something.
  • An obligation or mandate is the opposite of a right.  A right involves a conscious choice; thus the phrase “to exercise one’s right.”  If there is no choice available, there is no right.
  • One person having a right often implies denying another right from a second person.  Suppose that you work for me.  If I have the right to fire you, you cannot have the right to a guaranteed job with me.  If you have the right to go on strike, I cannot have the right to fire you for going on strike.
  • Sometimes having a right does not impede the rights of others.  A right to make use of a non-rival good is the classic example.
  • Exercising a right is not necessarily in a person’s best interest.  I have the right to gamble all of my money at a casino, but it probably wouldn’t be wise to do so.
  • Every decision of consequence for everybody, everywhere, is subject to a constraint of some kind.  There are only 24 hours in a day, the resources at your disposal are finite and, eventually, you will die.
  • If a person, operating under a constraint, chooses to not do something, it does not imply that their right has been denied to them.

These last two points, while logical, create problems for many advocacy groups.  Consider the woman who, subject to constraints in her finances and the wages on offer for various jobs she can perform, chooses to become a prostitute.  Consider the subsistence-farming family that, subject to constraints in it’s finances and the wages on offer for alternative work, chooses to keep it’s children away from school and working on the farm.

It is largely for this reason that many people advocate what they call “economic rights”.  Although there are various versions of this (e.g. minimum wages, the welfare state, etc.), you can think of them as a government, on behalf of the entire population, instituting a guaranteed minimum income.

Now, while there are strong moral arguments for such a guarantee (which I fully support and agree with), this is not a right.  This is a mandated transfer of income from high-income citizens to low-income citizens.  For the rich, it is an obligation (the opposite of a right) and for the poor, it does not directly increase the range of choices available to them.  Instead, it indirectly increases that range by relaxing one of their constraints.

I say again:  I fully support providing a minimum income to all people by means of a welfare state; nobody should live in poverty.  But this is not a right.  It is a moral duty.  Calling this an “economic right” is a deliberate obfuscation for marketing purposes.  People pay more attention and money when a person’s “rights” are being denied than when they simply have a moral obligation to help.

I love the work done by UNICEF. I think they are just about the best NGO on the planet. My wife and I donate money to them. They make an express point of telling you how much of the money you give will go to administration costs or to more fundraising.

I just wish they could raise those funds without confusing things by saying that Aklima’s right to education is being denied to her.  I recognise that they have to.  I just wish that they didn’t.