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Cars as mobile battery packs for hire

The Economist’s Babbage (i.e. their Science and Technology section) has a great article on the possibility of electric cars being used as battery packs for the power grid at large.  Here’s the idea:

At present, in order to meet sudden surges in demand, power companies have to bring additional generators online at a moment’s notice, a procedure that is both expensive and inefficient. If there were enough electric vehicles around, though, a fair number would be bound to be plugged in and recharging at any given time. Why not rig this idle fleet so that, when demand for electricity spikes, they stop drawing current from the grid and instead start pumping it back?

Apparently it’s all called vehicle-to-grid (V2G).  That (wikipedia) link has some great extra detail over the Economist piece.  If you want more again, here is the research site of the University of Delaware on it.  If you want more again (again), I’ve included links to the UK study by Ricardo and National Grid referenced in the Economist piece below.

After reading about the idea of V2G, a friend of mine asked a perfectly sensible question:

If having batteries connected up to the grid is a good thing for coping with spikes in demand, then why wouldn’t the power companies have dedicated batteries installed for this purpose?

I presume that power companies don’t install massive battery packs to obviate demand spikes because the cost of doing so exceeds the cost they currently incur to deal with them: having X% of their gross capacity sitting idle for most of the time.

In particular, the energy density of batteries isn’t great, and batteries do have a fairly low limit on the number of charge-discharge cycles they can go through.

Interestingly, another part of the cost associated with battery packs will be in the form of risk and uncertainty [*], which are exemplified by precisely this idea.  If a power company were to purchase and install massive battery packs at the site of the generator only to see a tipping-point-style adoption of electric vehicles that, when plugged in, serve as batteries for hire situated at the site of consumption (i.e. can offer up power without transmission loss), they would have to book a huge loss against the batteries they just installed.

Technological innovation and adoption is disruptive and frequently cumulative, meaning that any market power created by it is likely to be short-lived, which in turn creates a short-run focus for companies that work in that space.  For an infrastructure supplier more used to thinking about projects in terms of decades, that creates a strong status quo bias:  by not acting now, they retain the option to act tomorrow once the new technologies settle down.

Anyway, I’m a huge fan of this idea.  For a start, I’ve long been a huge fan of massively distributed power generation.  Every household having an ability to sell juice back to the grid is just one example of this, but I think it should be something we could aim to scale both up and down.  Imagine a world where anything with a battery could be used to transport and sell power back to the grid.  My pie-in-the-sky dream is that I could partially pay for a coffee at my local cafe by letting them use some of my mobile phone’s juice for 0.00001% of their power needs for the day.

More realistically, the other big benefit of this sort of thing is that because the grid becomes better able to cope with demand spikes without being supplied by the uber generators, the benefit to the power company of maintaining that surplus capacity starts to fall.  As a result, the balance would swing further towards renewable energy being economically (and not just environmentally) appealing.

At a first guess, I suspect that this also means that it is against the interests of existing power station owners for this sort of thing to come about, which ends up as another argument in favour of making sure that power generators and power distributors are separate companies.  The distributor has a strong economic incentive to have a mobile supply that, on average, moves to where the demand is located (or better yet, moves to where the demand is going to be); the monolithic generator does not.

Back in December 2007 (i.e. when the financial crisis had started but not reached it’s Oh-God-We’re-All-Going-To-Die phase), Doctors Willett Kempton and Nathaniel Pearre reckoned a V2G car could produce an income of $4,000 a year for the owner (including an annual fee paid to them by the grid, about which I am highly sceptical).  The Economist quite rightly points out that V2G, like so many things in life, would experience decreasing marginal value, but apparently it wouldn’t fall so far as to make it meaningless:

Of course, as the supply of electric vehicles increases, the value of each to the power company will fall. But even when such vehicles are commonplace, V2G should still be worthwhile from the car-owner’s point of view, according to a study carried out in Britain by Ricardo, an engineering firm, and National Grid, an electricity distributor. The report suggests that owners of electric vehicles in Britain could count on it to be worth as much as £600 ($970) a year in 2020, when an electric fleet 2m strong could provide 6% of the country’s grid-balancing capacity.

If you’re interested in the study by Ricardo and National Grid, the press release is here.  That page also has a link to the actual report, but they want you to give them personal information before you get it.  Thankfully, the magic of Google allows me to offer up a direct link to a PDF of the report.

The ever-sensible Economist also raises the upfront cost of capital installation by the distributor as something to keep in mind:

There is, it must be admitted, the issue of the additional cost of the equipment to manage all this electrical too-ing and fro-ing, not least the installation of charging points that can support current flows in both directions. But if the decision to make such points bi-directional were made now, when little of the infrastructure needed to sustain a fleet of electric vehicles has yet been built, the additional cost would not be great.

I can’t remember a damn thing from the “Electrical Engineering” part of my undergraduate degree [**], but despite the report from National Grid, I’m fairly sure that there would still be significant technical challenges (by which I mean real engineering problems) to overcome before rolling out a power grid with multitudes of mobile micro-suppliers, not to mention the logistical difficulties of tying your house, your car and your mobile phone battery to the same account and keeping track of how much they each give or take from any location, anywhere.

If I were a government wanting to directly subsidise targeted research to combat climate change I’d be calling in the deans of Electrical Engineering departments and heads of power distribution companies for a coffee and a chat.  I’d casually mention some numbers that would make make them salivate a little and then I’d talk about open access and the extent to which patents are ideal in stimulating innovation. [***]

[*] By which I mean known unknowns and unknown unknowns respectively.

[**] Heck, I can’t remember a damn thing from the “Electronic Engineering” or the “Computing Engineering” parts, either.

[***] But that’s a topic for another post.

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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.

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The origins of ideology

With the US Federal Government looking like it might go into a shutdown over budget negotiations (as I type, Intrade puts the chance at 40%), you can expect to see more articles around like this one from the Economist’s Democracy in America.  Here’s the gist of what they’re saying:

As Steve Benen points out, it definitely isn’t (or isn’t just) a function of Democratic legislators’ lack of determination. It’s partly a function of the fact that, as recentNBC/Wall Street Journal, Pew, and Gallup polls show, Democratic voters want their leaders to compromise, while Republican voters don’t. Jonathan Chait argues that what we have here is a structural issue that forces Democratic politicians to be wimpy:

Most people have the default assumption that the two parties are essentially mirror images of each other. But there are a lot of asymmetries between the Democratic and Republican parties that result in non-parallel behavior. The Republicans have a fairly unified economic base consisting of business and high-income individuals, whereas Democrats balance between business, labor, and environmental groups. The Republican Party reflects the ideology of movement conservatism, while the Democratic Party is a balance between progressives and moderates.

The upshot is that the Democratic Party is far more dependent upon the votes of moderates, who think of themselves in non-ideological terms and want their leaders to compromise and act pragmatically. The reason you see greater levels of partisan discipline and simple will to power in the GOP is that it has a coherent voting base willing to supportaggressive, partisan behavior and Democrats don’t. This isn’t to say Democrats are always wimps, but wimpiness is much more of a default setting for Democrats.

The article then goes on to discuss the psychological origins of ideological allegiance.  The upshot is that certain people have certain preferences and the political parties are representations of those groups of people.  There’s an implied assumption that all of this is exogenous to the system at large; that there’s nothing you can do about it, you just need to take it as given in your deliberations.

For anybody interested in this stuff, I strongly encourage you read Steve Waldman’s opposing view:  “Endogenize Ideology“. Here is his basic point, from quotes arranged in a different order to that in which he provides them:

Many [people] treat ideology or “political constraints” as given, and perform the exercise that economists perform reflexively, starting with their first grad school exam: constrained optimization. Constrained optimization is a mechanical procedure. The outcome is fully determined by the objective function and the constraints.

However …

That’s the wrong approach, I think. Rather than treating ideology as fixed and given, we should treat it as dynamic, as a consequence rather than a constraint of policy choices.

Ultimately, he argues, in a world of hard-nosed ideologues versus constraint-respecting policy wonks …

Rather than two optimizers, one of which has strictly less information than the other, in the real world we’ve seen two satisficers, one of which has adopted the strategy of optimizing subject to fixed constraints and the other of which has neglected pursuit of optimal present policy in favor of action intended to reshape the constraint set. A priori, we would not be able state with certainty which of the satisficers would outperform the other. If the constraint set were, in fact, strongly resistant to change Team Obama’s strategy would dominate. But if the constraint set is malleable (and constraints frequently bind), then Team Bush outperforms.

Just to really kick it home, he pulls out this quote from Karl Rove:

[Probably Karl Rove, talking to Ron Suskind] said that guys like me were ”in what we call the reality-based community,” which he defined as people who ”believe that solutions emerge from your judicious study of discernible reality.” I nodded and murmured something about enlightenment principles and empiricism. He cut me off. ”That’s not the way the world really works anymore,” he continued. ”We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality — judiciously, as you will — we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”

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Seasonal adjustments to unemployment in the USA

I might as well put this here.  Brad DeLong writes:

Microsoft Excel.png

Put me down as somebody who does not believe that the seasonal factor in the unemployment rate is twice as big today as it was four short years ago, or was half as big four short years ago as it was in the early 1990s…

Not that I am complaining about the BLS, you understand. If I could do better, they would already have done better. Nevertheless this is a source of nervousness…

My first thoughts:

At a first glance, the size of the seasonal adjustment factor looks like it is countercyclical to the business cycle, which immediately raises the question: Why would seasonality-based volatility in unemployment increase during a recession?

Could it just be that seasonal employment is less susceptible to business cycle movements than regular employment, so that during a recession the (relatively constant) seasonal movements look larger relative to the smaller total employment number?

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Some brief thoughts on QE2

  • Instead of speaking about “the interest rate” or even “the yield curve”, I wish people would speak more frequently about the yield surface:  put duration on the x-axis, per-period default risk on the y-axis and the yield on the z-axis.  Banks do not just borrow short and lend long; they also borrow safe and lend risky.
  • Liquidity is not uniform over the duration-instantaneous-default-risk space.   Liquidity is not even monotonic over the duration-instantaneous-default-risk space.
  • There is still a trade-off for the Fed in wanting lower interest rates for long-duration, medium-to-high-risk borrowers to spur the economy and wanting a steep yield surface to help banks with weak balance sheets improve their standing.
  • By keeping IOR above the overnight rate, the Fed is sterilising their own QE (the newly-injected cash will stay parked in reserve accounts) and the sole remaining effect, as pointed out by Brad DeLong, is through a “correction” for any premiums demanded for duration risk.
  • Nevertheless, packaging the new QE as a collection of monthly purchases grants the Fed future policy flexibility, as they can always declare that it will be cut off after only X months or will be extended to Y months.
  • It seems fairly clear to me that the announcement was by-and-large expected and so “priced in” (e.g. James Hamilton), but there was still something of a surprise (it was somewhat greater easing than was expected) (e.g. Scott Sumner).
  • Menzie Chinn thinks there is a bit of a puzzle in that while bond markets had almost entirely priced it in, fx-rate markets (particularly USD-EUR) seemed to move a lot.  I’m not entirely sure that I buy his argument, as I’m not entirely sure why we should expect the size of the response to a monetary surprise to be the same in each market.
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Gold vs. US Treasuries

John Hempton writes:

We live in a strange world – the 10 year US Treasury is trading with a 2.63 percent yield.  The market is presuming that there will not be much inflation in those ten years.  However if there is deflation (as per Japan) then the 10 year will wind up being a very good investment (see my blog post on Japanese bond yields from the perspective of a Japanese household).

At the same time gold is appreciating very sharply – from $950 per oz to $1250 in the past year – and from $800 two years ago or $450 five years ago.  On the face of it the gold price is predicting inflation.

Try as I may – I can’t see any reason why both those prices are correct.  I have long held the view that prices are mostly sort-of-rational … [s]o either there is a theoretical way in which both these prices can be correct or even my weak version of the efficient market hypothesis is spectacularly wrong.

and then asks

My first question thus is can anyone tell me why these prices could possibly be consistent?  Is there a rational reason why the bond market is pricing low inflation and the gold market seemingly pricing high inflation?  Does anybody have the ingenious world view in which both these prices are correct?

Since Blogger rejected my comment over at John’s site as being too long, I may as well reproduce it here. I don’t know about “correct” and I’m no finance guy, so my first point is that  I have no freakin’ clue.  Nevertheless, here are five, somewhat contradictory ideas, three of which might fit in a weak EMH world …

Idea #1) Yes, yes, your whole post was predicated on some weak version of the EMH. However … Treasuries, despite what the arch-conservatives are saying, are unlikely to be in a bubble (see idea #4 below).  It might (and only might!) even be impossible for them to be in a bubble.  On the other hand, gold can experience a bubble (to the extent that you concede that bubbles can exist at all).  Just because it can doesn’t mean that it currently is in one, but if it is and treasuries are not, that would partially resolve your dilemma.

Idea #2) Gold, as a commodity, is a affected by global phenomena, whereas US treasuries, while obviously still influenced by global pressures, are more sensitive to the US economy than is gold.  This statement will become more true over time as the US economy shrinks as a share of global GDP.  Therefore, perhaps you should deduce that markets are predicting low inflation or deflation for America, but quite high inflation for the world as a whole.

Idea #3) Gold, as a commodity, partially co-moves with other commodities, many of which are seeing price increases because of real, observable events in their markets (Chinese construction, Russian drought, etc).  Perhaps it is being dragged up by those (this augments idea #2).

Idea #4) In the broad market for USD-denominated investment-grade bonds, there has, I believe, been a net contraction in supply despite the surge in US government borrowing.  This is the private-sector balance-sheet correction.  One might argue, from something of a monetarist point of view, that (disin|de)flation is occurring in the US precisely because the US government is not expanding its borrowing fast enough to replace the private-sector contraction.  I mentioned this briefly the other day.

Idea #5) Another non-EMH idea, I’m afraid:  Both the USD and gold enjoy safe-haven status.  An increase in generalised fear (Knightian uncertainty, unknown unknowns, etc) will shift out the demand for both at all price levels.  To the extent that such a dynamic exists, I suspect that it ebbs away only slowly and, while elevated, is susceptible to rapid increases in response to events that would, in normal times, not affect people so much.

Update 11 Oct 2010:

James Hamilton on essentially the same topic.

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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.

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US treasury interest rates and (disin|de)flation

This Bloomberg piece from a few days ago caught my eye.  Let me quote a few hefty chunks from the article (highlighting is mine):

Bond investors seeking top-rated securities face fewer alternatives to Treasuries, allowing President Barack Obama to sell unprecedented sums of debt at ever lower rates to finance a $1.47 trillion deficit.

While net issuance of Treasuries will rise by $1.2 trillion this year, the net supply of corporate bonds, mortgage-backed securities and debt tied to consumer loans may recede by $1.3 trillion, according to Jeffrey Rosenberg, a fixed-income strategist at Bank of America Merrill Lynch in New York.

Shrinking credit markets help explain why some Treasury yields are at record lows even after the amount of marketable government debt outstanding increased by 21 percent from a year earlier to $8.18 trillion. Last week, the U.S. government auctioned $34 billion of three-year notes at a yield of 0.844 percent, the lowest ever for that maturity.
[…]
Global demand for long-term U.S. financial assets rose in June from a month earlier as investors abroad bought Treasuries and agency debt and sold stocks, the Treasury Department reported today in Washington. Net buying of long-term equities, notes and bonds totaled $44.4 billion for the month, compared with net purchases of $35.3 billion in May. Foreign holdings of Treasuries rose to $33.3 billion.
[…]
A decline in issuance is expected in other sectors of the fixed-income market. Net issuance of asset-backed securities, after taking into account reinvested coupons, will decline by $684 billion this year, according to Bank of America’s Rosenberg. The supply of residential mortgage-backed securities issued by government-sponsored companies such as Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac is projected to be negative $320 billion, while the debt they sell directly will shrink by $164 billion. Investment- grade corporate bonds will decrease $132 billion.

“The constriction in supply is all about deleveraging,” Rosenberg said.
[…]
“There’s been a collapse in both consumer and business credit demand,” said James Kochan, the chief fixed-income strategist at Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin-based Wells Fargo Fund Management, which oversees $179 billion. “To see both categories so weak for such an extended period of time, you’d probably have to go back to the Depression.”

Greg Mankiw is clearly right to say:

“I am neither a supply-side economist nor a demand-side economist. I am a supply-and-demand economist.”

(although I’m not entirely sure about the ideas of Casey Mulligan that he endorses in that post — I do think that there are supply-side issues at work in the economy at large, but that doesn’t necessarily imply that they are the greater fraction of America’s macroeconomic problems, or that demand-side stimulus wouldn’t help even if they were).

When it comes to US treasuries, it’s clear that shifts in both demand and supply are at play.  Treasuries are just one of the investment-grade securities on the market that are, as a first approximation, close substitutes for each other.  While the supply of treasuries is increasing, the supply of investment-grade securities as a whole is shrinking (a sure sign that demand is falling in the broader economy) and the demand curve for those same securities is shifting out (if the quantity is rising and the price is going up and supply is shifting back, then demand must also be shifting out).

Paul Krugman and Brad DeLong have been going on for a while about invisible bond market vigilantes, criticising the critics of US fiscal stimulus by pointing out that if there were genuine fears in the market over government debt, then interest rates on the same (which move inversely to bond prices) should be rising, not falling as they have been.  Why the increased demand for treasuries if everyone’s meant to be so afraid of them?

They’re right, of course (as they so often are), but that’s not the whole picture.  In the narrowly-defined treasuries market, the increasing demand for US treasuries is driven not only by the increasing demand in the broader market for investment-grade securities, but also by the contraction of supply in the broader market.

It’s all, in slow motion, the very thing many people were predicting a couple of years ago — the gradual nationalisation of hither-to private debt.  Disinflation (or even deflation) is essentially occurring because the government is not replacing all of the contraction in private credit.

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Paying interest on (excess) reserves (Updated)

The U.S. Federal Reserve is currently paying 0.25% interest on the reserve accounts of depository institutions.  This is therefore, at present, the primary rate of policy concern (as opposed to the Fed Funds rate):  if a bank can’t get a rate of return that, when adjusted for risk, is greater than 0.25%, they will stick their money in their reserve account at the Fed.  Among others, Scott Sumner [blog] has called this policy a mistake.

There is an economic cost to the policy.  0.25% isn’t much, but it’s the risk-free aspect that complicates things.  If banks’ risk aversion or their perception of the risks associated with investments are high, then a truely risk-free 0.25% could look quite attractive.  With the interest rates on US treasuries so low, there’s certainly reason to believe that risk aversion is still abnormally high at the moment.  Whether the demand for loans is coming from particularly risky projects, or is perceived to be, I don’t know (is there any way of knowing?).

So why have it at all?  I suppose I support the paying of interest on required reserves.  The banks don’t get a choice with them, so it seems only fair that they be compensated.  But for excess reserves, there would need to be an offsetting benefit to justify the policy.  One benefit will be that the interest is paid with new money, so it’s a way of quietly helping banks improve their balance sheets.  There’s currently about US$1 trillion in excess reserves, so that’s about US$2.5 billion per year.  That may be a lot of money to you and me, but it’s not much more than a rounding error to the US banking system as a whole.  Still, it’s something.  Another benefit, depending on your point of view, is that by attracting all that money into excess reserves, the Fed sterilised the QE they engaged in last year.  If you feel that the sterilised QE has caused lower long-term interest rates and hold that those rates are the ones that most significantly drive the economy and distinctly dislike inflation, then you’d probably judge the affair to have been a success [I include the weasel words because I am no longer certain].  A third benefit, which is really a further justification of the second, is that there is evidence that the Fed’s QE appears to have lowered not just US rates, but foreign rates as well.  In that case, then you probably want to sterilise the fraction going to other countries (bad enough, one might think, that America is fixing the rest of the world; it would be unthinkable if America also had to suffer inflation by doing so).

Anyway, all of that is by way of getting around to this point:  via Bruce Bartlett, I’ve just discovered that Sweden also pays interest on reserve deposits, normally 0.75 percentage points lower than their repo rate.  But, crucially, their repo rate is currently only 0.50%, which means that their deposit rate is negative, at -0.25%.

For myself, I tend to think that the interest rate on excess reserves should be lowered.  My argument is similar to what I imagine Scott Sumner would say, so I should also explain his view a little, to the extent that I understand him.  With nominal GDP at US$14 trillion, the US$1 trillion sitting in excess reserves is a very, very large amount of money.  If it were released into the economy, it would be a huge stimulus (even if the money multiplier/velocity of money is temporarily low).  By choosing to sterilise their QE (presumably out of fear of inflation), the Fed has turned what could have been a tremendously effective stimulus into a mediocre one at best.  Scott is rather more sanguine about inflation in general than I am (he favours targeting NGDP; I suspect that this graph would make him want to tear his hair out), but even if the Fed wishes to target inflation of, say, the near-universally accepted benchmark of 2%, then with actual current inflation down at 0.5% and expected future inflation below 1.5% for most of the next 10 years and falling, the sterilisation has been excessive.

Update 6 Aug 2010:

The FT’s Alphaville has gathered the arguments for and against.  Here are three arguments (and their counter-arguments) for keeping the Interest on Reserves (IoR) unchanged:

First, from Ben Bernanke himself, made in recent congressional testimony:

The rationale for not going all the way to zero has been that we want the short-term money markets like the federal funds market to continue to function in a reasonable way because if rates go to zero there will be no incentive for buying and selling federal funds, overnight money in the banking system, and if that market shuts down … it’ll be more difficult to manage short-term interest rates, for the Federal Reserve to tighten policy sometime in the future. So there’s really a technical reason having to do with market function that motivated the 25 basis points interest on reserves.

I think this is silly. It’ll be more difficult to manage short-term interest rates in the future only if, following an effective shut-down of the federal funds market, it becomes costly to start it back up again. I seriously doubt that the banks are going to take their existing staff, processes and infrastructure dedicated to this and throw them out the window. Heck, in a Q&A session after his testimony, Mr Bernanke stated that lowering the interest rate on reserves is a (serious) option in the event that the FMOC decides that further stimulus is warranted:

But broadly speaking, there are a number of things we could consider and look at; one would be further changes or modifications of our language or our framework describing how we intend to change interest rates over time — giving more information about that, that’s certainly one approach. We could lower the interest rate we pay on reserves, which is currently one-fourth of 1%.

A second viewpoint, put forward by Dave Altig (of the Atlanta Fed) and Joseph Abate (of Barclays Capital), is that

If banks didn’t get interest from the Fed they would shift those funds into short-term, low-risk markets such as the repo, Treasury bill and agency discount note markets, where the funds are readily accessible in case of need. Put another way, Abate doesn’t see this money getting tied up in bank loans or the other activities that would help increase credit, in turn boosting overall economic momentum.

I think that Jim Hamilton’s response to this is excellent, so let me just quote it in full:

But Dave doesn’t quite finish the story. If I as an individual bank decide that a repo or T-bill looks better than zero, and use my excess reserves to buy one of these instruments, I simply instruct the Fed to transfer my deposits to the bank of whoever sold it to me. But now, if that bank does nothing, it would be left with those reserve balances at the end of the day on which it earns nothing, whereas it, too, could instead get some interest by going with repos or T-bills. The reserves never get “shifted into short-term, low-risk markets”– instead, by definition, they are always sitting there, at the end of the day, on the balance sheet of some bank somewhere in the system.

The implicit bottom line in the Abate story is that the yields on repos and T-bills adjust until they, too, look essentially to be zero, so that banks in fact don’t care whether they leave a trillion dollars earning no interest every day.

The essence of this world view is that there are two completely distinct categories of assets– cash-type assets which pay no interest whatever, and risky investments like car loans that banks don’t want to make no matter how much cash they hold.

But I really have trouble thinking in terms of such a two-asset world. I instead see a continuum of assets out there. As a bank, I could keep my funds overnight with the Fed, I could lend them in an overnight repo, I could buy a 1-week Treasury, a 3-month Treasury, a 10-year Treasury, or whatever. Wherever you want to draw a line between available assets and claim those on the left are “cash” and those on the right are “risky”, I’m quite convinced I could give you an example of an asset that is an arbitrarily small epsilon to the right or the left of your line. Viewed this way, I have a hard time understanding how pushing a trillion dollars at the shortest end of the continuum by 25 basis points would have no consequences whatever for the yield on any other assets.

Finally, back with Dave Altig, there is the argument that:

the IOR policy has long been promoted on efficiency grounds. There is this argument for example, from a New York Fed article published just as the IOR policy was introduced:

“… reserve balances are used to make interbank payments; thus, they serve as the final form of settlement for a vast array of transactions. The quantity of reserves needed for payment purposes typically far exceeds the quantity consistent with the central bank’s desired interest rate. As a result, central banks must perform a balancing act, drastically increasing the supply of reserves during the day for payment purposes through the provision of daylight reserves (also called daylight credit) and then shrinking the supply back at the end of the day to be consistent with the desired market interest rate.

“… it is important to understand the tension between the daylight and overnight need for reserves and the potential problems that may arise. One concern is that central banks typically provide daylight reserves by lending directly to banks, which may expose the central bank to substantial credit risk. Such lending may also generate moral hazard problems and exacerbate the too-big-to-fail problem, whereby regulators would be reluctant to close a financially troubled bank.”

Put more simply, one broad justification for an IOR policy is precisely that it induces banks to hold quantities of excess reserves that are large enough to mitigate the need for central banks to extend the credit necessary to keep the payments system running efficiently. And, of course, mitigating those needs also means mitigating the attendant risks.

But, to me, this really sounds like an argument for having higher reserve requirements, not an argument for encouraging excess reserves.  I’m all for paying interest on required reserves and setting the fraction required at whatever level you judge necessary to ensure the operation of the payments system.  But don’t try to shoe-horn that argument into keeping interest payments on excess reserves.

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Reporting reactions to the news, not the news

XKCD: Public OpinionI know I’m not alone in getting frustrated by the tendency, in all forms of mass media, to report on reactions to an event or debate rather than provide substantial detail on the event or debate.  I do realise that it’s because the drama of people’s reactions keeps the audience’s attention for longer, that most people aren’t actually interested in the finer points, that it bores them.

Jon Stewart lambasts America’s television news providers for providing anything but news, but for me the sharpest sense of frustration comes when I read a newspaper.  I don’t really blame the providers of news for being consumed by the desire to entertain when they have sound, colour and moving pictures at their command.  Well, okay, I do.  But the defence of the newspaper editor is far weaker.  Sure, there are technicolour tits on page three, but other than that and an over-sized font for the headlines, there’s not much the newspaper can do to distract you from the article itself.

Most people don’t read more than the first few paragraphs of an article.  That’s why papers like the NY Times put those delicious, tantalising nuggets on the front page for the vrapid browsers among us and then send the hungrier reader off to page Q13, or whatever, to finish the piece.  It’s not a practice we see in Britain, but I quite like it.  It gives a visual honesty to our collective consumption of news.  It lets me imagine, as I hunt through the paper for section Q, that the real meat of the article, the guts, the nitty gritty, the actual news, is available in there somewhere.  Sadly, it almost never is.

I don’t want to single out The Grey Lady.  There is no paper anywhere on earth that consistently lists out the facts in each article.  I don’t even need quality writing.  Just chop off the final paragraph and replace it with the facts in bullet point form.  Nobody reads that paragraph anyway, even if it is the one the journalist fought most with the editor to keep.  Leave the rest of the article peppered with Mr. and Mrs. Jones’s sob story and some politician’s outrage, but give me the facts quietly at the end, where it’s not hurting anyone.

Anyway, via Matt Yglesis, I see that a report has been written by Pew Research on the coverage of the health care debate in America.  You can see the full report here or a summary here.  I quite agree with Matt that the most telling aspect of the report is summarised in the following graph (although I disagree with his conclusion that this is not such a bad result):

Pew: Top Health Care StorylinesIt’s a terrible diagram, because 3D graphs make it near-impossible to read the actual numbers (I wonder if Pew Research sees any irony in trying to present these data in a snazzy format), so let me give them to you:

  • 41% : Politics and strategy
  • 23% : Descriptions of [proposed] plans
  • 9% : [Current] State of health care
  • 8% : Legislative process
  • 6% : Obama’s health care plan
  • 4% : Town hall protests

This is for all forms of media, though.  The then current state of health care featured more prominantly in newspapers, which gave it 18% of their coverage.  That’s better, but I suspect it’s deceptive.  That 18% will have included innumerable emotion-dripping sob stories about some old lady and her dodgy hip.  Disappointingly, online news sites, which have essentially zero marginal cost for an additional paragraph on the end of a story, gave only 8% of their coverage to describing the then current system.

Ah, well.  Go read the report.

Update:  Ezra Klein makes an excellent point:

It’s trite to say it, but the news business is biased toward, well, news. There are plenty of outlets that tell you what happened yesterday, but virtually no organizations that simply tell you what’s going on. Keeping up on the news is easy, but getting a handle on an ongoing situation that you’ve not really been following is hard. In recent years, we’ve seen the rise of outlets like FactCheck.org, which try and police lies that are relevant to the debate. But there’s really no one out there who is trying to give you the background to everything going in the debate. News organizations will write occasional pieces trying to sum up the legislation, but if you miss them, it’s hard to find them again, and they’re not comprehensive anyway. The fact that I still can’t direct people to one really good, really clear, really comprehensive online summary of the bill is an enduring frustration for me, and a real problem given the importance of the legislation and the number of questions there are about it.

If I edited a major publication — or even a medium-size one — I would begin each major legislative battle by detailing a few of my smartest, clearest writers to create a hyperlinked, fairly comprehensive, summary of the basic legislation. That summary would be updated throughout the process, and it would be linked in every single story written on the topic. As reader questions came in, and points of confusion arose, it would be expanded, so by the end, you’d have a document that was current, comprehensive, navigable and responsive to the questions people actually had about the legislation. Telling people what just happened is undeniably important, but given that most people aren’t following that closely, we in the media need to do a better job of telling people what’s been happening.