IN THIS ISSUE The “Lodger Evil” and the Transformation of Progressive Housing Reform, 1890–1930 David T. Beito and Linda Royster Beito Dynamics of Intervention in the War on Drugs: The Buildup to the Harrison Act of 1914 Audrey Redford and Benjamin Powell Understanding a Cuban Transition Roy C. Smith and Ingo Walter Regime Uncertainty and the Great Recession: A Market-Process Approach Wolf von Laer and Adam Martin Cryptocurrency and the Problem of Intermediation Cameron Harwick The INDEPENDENT REVIEW VOLUME 20 | NUMBER 4 | SPRING 2016 A Journal of Political Economy R Stagnation by Regulation in America’s Kudzu Economy Bruce Yandle B R Circus Maximus: The Economic Gamble behind Hosting the Olympics and the World Cup By Andrew Zimbalist | Brad R. Humphreys The Illusion of Well-Being: Economic Policymaking Based on Respect and Responsiveness By Mark D. White | Daniel D. Moseley Advanced Introduction to the Austrian School of Economics By Randall G. Holcombe | Vlad Tarko The Philanthropic Revolution: An Alternative History of American Charity By Jeremy Beer | Robert M. Whaples The Forgotten Depression, 1921: The Great Crash That Cured Itself By James Grant | Joseph T. Salerno Stages of Occupational Regulation: Analysis of Case Studies By Morris M. Kleiner | Edward Timmons Perilous Partners: The Benefits and Pitfalls of America’s Alliances with Authoritarian Regimes By Ted Galen Carpenter and Malou Innocent | Christopher J. Coyne Going for Broke: Deficits, Debt, and the Entitlement Crisis By Michael Tanner | Antony Davies I I, S W, O, CA - -- • : -- • .. • @. V N S CANADA$11.50 $15.00 CANADA A I $12.00 $7.50 Economic Modeling: Why the Standard Model Survives Bad Performance Steven D. Gjerstad and Vernon L. Smith V . 2 0 | N. | S E ... Will Cryptocurrencies Take Over? The INDEPENDENT REVIEW Volume 20 Number 4 Spring 2016 Articles Reflections Book Reviews A Journal of Political Economy The “Lodger Evil” and the Transformation of Progressive Housing Reform, 1890–1930 David T. Beito and Linda Royster Beito 485 Dynamics of Intervention in the War on Drugs: The Buildup to the Harrison Act of 1914 Audrey Redford and Benjamin Powell 509 Understanding a Cuban Transition Roy C. Smith and Ingo Walter 531 Regime Uncertainty and the Great Recession: A Market-Process Approach Wolf von Laer and Adam Martin 547 Cryptocurrency and the Problem of Intermediation Cameron Harwick 569 Stagnation by Regulation in America’s Kudzu Economy Bruce Yandle 589 Circus Maximus: The Economic Gamble behind Hosting the Olympics and the World Cup By Andrew Zimbalist Brad R. Humphreys 599 The Illusion of Well-Being: Economic Policymaking Based on Respect and Responsiveness By Mark D. White Daniel D. Moseley 602 FRONT COVER: Will Cryptocurrencies Take Over? (See article on page 569) Etceteras . . . Advanced Introduction to the Austrian School of Economics By Randall G. Holcombe Vlad Tarko 605 The Philanthropic Revolution: An Alternative History of American Charity By Jeremy Beer Robert M. Whaples 609 The Forgotten Depression, 1921: The Great Crash That Cured Itself By James Grant Joseph T. Salerno 612 Stages of Occupational Regulation: Analysis of Case Studies By Morris M. Kleiner Edward Timmons 616 Perilous Partners: The Benefits and Pitfalls of America’s Alliances with Authoritarian Regimes By Ted Galen Carpenter and Malou Innocent Christopher J. Coyne 619 Going for Broke: Deficits, Debt, and the Entitlement Crisis By Michael Tanner Antony Davies 622 Economic Modeling: Why the Standard Model Survives Bad Performance Steven D. Gjerstad and Vernon L. Smith 627 Annual Index 633 Thank You . . . 639 Cover Image: © Petar Chernaev/iStock Copyright © 2016, Independent Institute. All rights reserved. The Independent Review (ISSN 1086-1653) is published quarterly (March, June, September, and December) by Independent Institute, 100 Swan Way, Oakland, California 94621-1428. Phone: 510-632-1366. Fax: 510-568-6040. Website: www.independent.org. Application to mail at Second-class postage rates is pending at Oakland, CA, and at additional mailing offices. Republication of articles and reviews may not be made without written permission of the publisher. Individual subscriptions are available for $28.95/year, $50.95/two-year, and $71.95/three-year. Institutional subscriptions are available for $84.95/year, $148.95/two-year, and $211.95/three-year. Foreign orders add $28.00/year. Single copy rates: individuals $12.00 ($15.00 Canada), institutions $25.00 ($28.00 Canada). Correspondence regarding subscriptions, procuring back issues, editorial, advertising, and changes of address should be sent to the above address or e-mailed to: review@independent. org. Information for authors wishing to submit articles is on p. 484 of this issue. The views expressed by authors of the articles are their own and are not attributable to the editors, advisors, or Independent Institute. BOOK REVIEWS F F Circus Maximus: The Economic Gamble behind Hosting the Olympics and the World Cup By Andrew Zimbalist Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 2015. Pp. xiii, 174. $25 hardcover. Andrew Zimbalist has written a timely and important book addressing a topic of vital importance for taxpayers, sports fans, and public officials around the world. The May 2015 indictment of a number of Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA) executives by the U.S. attorney general for corruption related to the awarding of the 2010 Copa America soccer tournament and the subsequent resignation of newly reelected FIFA president Sepp Blatter highlight the seedy underside of the process of allocating sports mega-events, which Zimbalist examines in detail. The increasingly vocal opposition to Boston’s bid to host the 2024 Summer Olympic Games also provides a rich backdrop for this book. Circus Maximus is required reading for anyone interested in a thorough, no-holds-barred account of how sports mega-events are awarded and what impact these events have on host communities. The book contains a narrative account of the awarding and hosting of the Olympic Games and FIFA World Cup since their inceptions and an analysis of the short-run and long-run economic consequences of these mega-events. It also discusses in detail the financing, economic impact, legacy effects, and existing scholarly research on sports mega-events. Zimbalist has done a thorough, well-organized job of marshalling both primary evidence and existing research to paint a comprehensive and disturbing picture of the Olympic Games, the World Cup, and the opaque, Byzantine organizations that control the awarding of these events. To order any book reviewed in this section, please visit www.IndependentReview.org and select the desired book review. 599 600 F BOOK REVIEWS The book will be eye-opening for readers familiar only with the citius, altius, fortius pageantry, the feel-good fellowship, the international spectacle associated with the staging of the Olympic Games and World Cup, and the mythic Olympic Movement ideals that the International Olympic Committee (IOC) touts as its guiding principles. Zimbalist thoroughly debunks the ideas that the IOC and to a lesser extent FIFA primarily champion human rights, celebrate athletic performance, and provide important economic and social benefits to host countries. For example, Zimbalist points out that the IOC’s principle of nondiscrimination, clearly articulated in the Olympic Charter, was violated from the get-go. The IOC excluded women athletes from participating in the inaugural 1896 Athens Games and likely for racially motivated reasons stripped Native American Jim Thorpe of his medals won at the 1912 Stockholm Games. Zimbalist also thoroughly discredits the idea that the Games and the World Cup generate substantial tangible economic benefits for host countries by documenting the long history of cost overruns, “legacy” effects such as whiteelephant facilities too large and too lavish for local athletes and teams to use after the events end, commercialization, and corruption that both the IOC and FIFA have left in their wakes. Students of the economic history of the Olympic Games and World Cup will recognize that not every event has been a financial fiasco. Both the 1984 Los Angeles and the 1992 Barcelona Summer Games were successful in terms of their financing and, in the case of Barcelona, their lasting impact on local infrastructure and worldwide perception of the host city. Zimbalist argues that these successful outcomes were the result of unique sets of circumstances that are very unlikely to be replicated in any other setting. Los Angeles had no competitors for the hosting of the 1984 Games, which forced the IOC to waive its infamous and onerous requirement that local governments guarantee the full cost of hosting the games no matter what they cost and to extensively utilize existing facilities rather than building new ones. Barcelona was more than fifteen years into a meticulously mapped and competently executed urban-redevelopment plan, so the organizers of the Barcelona games seamlessly integrated the Games and their facilities into this plan. Equally important for elevating Barcelona’s status as a world-class tourist destination is the fact that it has a mild, sunny climate, central location, and rich cultural history and had been neglected for decades by the Franco regime in Spain. Potential host cities and regions would benefit from a close study of Zimbalist’s case studies and arguments that outcomes like those in Barcelona and Los Angeles are the exceptions; one theme in the book is that the most likely outcome resembles that of the 2012 London Summer Games. Organizers originally forecast total costs of $5 billion for the London Games, but subsequent analysis revealed the actual costs exceeded $15 billion. Zimbalist also documents the general lack of substantial legacy effects of the London Games, despite dedicated efforts by the organizers to ensure a positive and lasting legacy. These organizers, like all local organizing committees, clearly had good intentions and lofty goals. But Zimbalist’s cautionary tales highlight THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 601 the fact that the rules set by the IOC and FIFA, their idiosyncratic allocation of the huge broadcast rights and sponsorship fees generated by these events, and the nature of hosting sports mega-events, make it difficult to host an economically beneficial and sustainable World Cup or Olympic Games. The book also serves as an excellent reference for readers interested in expanding their knowledge of the organization and governance of FIFA and the IOC and in locating the existing body of scholarly research on the economics of sports megaevents. All of the relevant research papers published in peer-reviewed academic journals are referenced and summarized. Zimbalist has collected a wealth of information about past bids, costs, attendance, and television viewership from a wide variety of sources and concisely presented it in an easy-to-access format. He also explains clearly the striking differences between ex ante “economic impact reports” forecasting billions of dollars of tangible economic benefits flowing from sports mega-events and ex post econometric analyses that show little or no actual benefits. Given the critical nature of the book, Zimbalist closes with suggestions for improving the way that sports mega-events are conducted and the way that the rights to host these games are allocated. The suggestions approach the issue both from above (aiming at changing FIFA and the IOC) and from below (aiming at changing the way potential hosts view and organize the Games and the World Cup). At the top, Zimbalist correctly points out that many of the problems documented in the book flow directly from the monopoly power enjoyed by the IOC and FIFA. These two extragovernmental organizations answer to nobody, completely control the rights to host these hugely popular events, and own all associated intellectual-property and broadcast rights. Both organizations make extreme demands on host communities, requiring large, new, state-of-the-art facilities, even, in the case of the Olympic Games, for less-popular sports such as indoor cycling, softball, and swimming. This requirement drives up costs, and primarily benefits the IOC and FIFA because these lavish facilities and elite competitors generate worldwide interest in watching the competitions, which primarily benefits the broadcast rights holders. Proposed use of existing facilities has not been rewarded since Los Angeles (an exceptional case), and efforts at putting on “sustainable” events appear to be fruitless. Worse, both the World Cup and the Olympic Games are awarded through a competitive process where potential hosts must compete with the number and lavishness of planned facilities. Zimbalist observes that the IOC and FIFA set the rules, and the voting members of these organizations that determine the host city or country are ill equipped to assess the overall economic development potential of various bids. The solution is not to reform the allocation process but to use international organizations focused on economic development such as the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund, to assess bids that contain important economic components. The economic remedy to monopoly is competition. Here, Zimbalist points out that the general public appears to have little interest in substitutes for the Olympic Games, as indicated by the ill-fated Goodwill Games held a few decades ago. This is VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 602 F BOOK REVIEWS an apt analogy, but perhaps the increasing popularity of alternative media such as streamed video will change the playing field in this area. Zimbalist’s bottom-up solutions amount to potential hosts standing their ground when their bids do not meet the stringent IOC and FIFA requirements for new facility construction and other economic goodies (exemption from import duties and taxes, special treatment for the “Olympic Family”). The key issue here would appear to be the requirement that local fiscal authorities guarantee to cover any and all costs of hosting sports mega-events, including security costs and cost overruns associated with facility and infrastructure construction. This requirement means cooperative action on the part of all potential hosts during the bidding process. So long as a sufficient number of potential hosts emerge, such cooperation appears to be an unlikely outcome. However, Zimbalist documents the existence of long-term cycles in the leverage enjoyed by the IOC and FIFA as the number of bidders waxes and wanes. This leverage ebbed in 1984 when Los Angeles was the only bidder for the Games and forced the IOC to waive its financial-guarantee requirement, but it increased in the following decades. Zimbalist posits that it may again be ebbing. But one wonders why taxpayers in potential host cities should wait for these long-term cycles to play out. In any event, Zimbalist makes a clear and persuasive case that the entire process is in dire need of reform and that taxpayers and decision makers need to better understand the process and history of hosting sports mega-events. BRAD R. HUMPHREYS West Virginia University F The Illusion of Well-Being: Economic Policymaking Based on Respect and Responsiveness By Mark D. White New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2014. Pp. ix, 206. $35 paperback. The central arguments in Mark White’s book will be familiar and attractive to those inspired by the work of Friedrich Hayek and James Buchanan. White argues that policy makers are too keen to appeal to metrics of happiness or well-being to justify their policy recommendations. White holds that policy makers pretend that they are in the business of improving the well-being of everyone and that they appeal to poorly designed empirical studies to support their policy recommendations. He argues that much of the current empirical research on happiness and well-being has yielded results that are arbitrary, inaccurate, and oversimplified and, thus policy recommendations that rely on empirical studies of happiness and well-being are not sound. He contends that the true interests of individuals should be the policy makers’ concern, THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 603 but those interests are too complex and subjective to be accurately described with the results of surveys by positive psychologists and the quantitative methods used by behavioral economics. According to White, policy makers and happiness researchers are guilty of value substitution: they paternalistically impose their own values onto the values of the people whose well-being they purport to be investigating. He advocates an approach to policy making that focuses on enhancing the choices available to individuals in a society and responding to the concerns that people actually express via democratic processes. The Illusion of Well-Being consists of four chapters. The first two chapters present White’s arguments that the current research in psychology and economics on happiness and well-being does not track the true interests of the individuals whose interests are being studied. The third chapter presents his argument that those researchers are guilty of value substitution and that many theorists who advocate the ethics of care also embrace an approach to caring that is overly paternalistic. The fourth chapter presents White’s own proposal for how policy making ought to be conducted: policy makers should make rules and laws that are based on respect and responsiveness. He maintains that policy makers should focus on constitutional economics instead of on welfare economics. That is, he contends, they ought to focus on creating rules that maximize the degree and extent of mutually consistent choices instead of trying to directly produce outcomes that increase aggregate happiness. In the chapters that attack policy making based on concerns of happiness and wellbeing, White discusses how the historical development of utilitarian moral philosophy worked in tandem with the development of welfare economics. He also claims that the current psychological research on happiness is fundamentally misguided because it is based on a vague and indeterminate concept: “The nature of happiness itself is too vague and multifaceted to be defined with any precision—at least without missing much of the complexity that captures what makes it so valuable to people—or measured to even a minimal degree of accuracy and meaningfulness” (p. 43). Likewise with the concept of well-being: White argues that economic models of rationality that focus on preference satisfaction are also misguided because “sincerely held preferences and desires . . . don’t seem to contribute to what we would normally think of as personal well-being” (p. 74). He also contends that the concept of an individual’s preferences that is used in rational-choice theory is ethically impoverished because the economist’s concept of a preference cannot explain the way in which moral judgment motivates us to act. “There is no obvious way to incorporate principles and ideals alongside preferences in economic models of choice, although there have been a number of suggestions made in recent years” (p. 102), He argues that the “balancing of our preferences along with the principles and ideals we hold dear comes down to judgment, which, unlike standard economic models of decision making, is essentially qualitative and impossible to specify or model” (p. 104, emphasis in original). White’s Kantian moral psychology is worthy of serious consideration, but I take it to be an important and challenging research project to specify the exact nature and relation of choice, preferences, values, character, VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 604 F BOOK REVIEWS principles, and ideals. White does discuss the topic in other work (see Mark D. White, Kantian Ethics and Economics: Autonomy, Dignity, and Character [Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2011]), but I take the issue to remain an open and pressing area of inquiry at the intersection of moral psychology and economics. (For a suggestion of how rational-choice theory may account for the role of moral judgments in political agents, see Geoffrey Brennan and Daniel D. Moseley, “Economics and Ethics,” in The International Encyclopedia of Ethics, edited by Hugh LaFollette [Oxford: Blackwell, 2013], 1552–61.) Three weaknesses in White’s arguments deserve attention. First, from the outset of the book, his arguments are intended to show that policy makers should not rely on economic or psychological measures of happiness or well-being in forming policies. However, White does not distinguish importantly different kinds of policy makers: policy makers in the federal government, in state governments, in lower levels of government (counties and towns), in universities, in hospitals, in religious organizations, and in various levels of business. Given the widespread use of customer-satisfaction surveys in many of these organizations, which are often helpful tools in many contexts for measuring efficiency, it would be foolish for administrators in many sectors to consider those data to be an arbitrary or irrelevant measure of happiness. It is not wise to allow these data to be decisive in making policy, but they are not an arbitrary and irrelevant measure of happiness. Data about various forms of injury and infectious disease may also provide helpful information about unhappiness that policy makers should consider. White’s characterization of the role of empirical evidence in policy making overgeneralizes from his central case of the way federal policy makers often place too much emphasis on gross domestic product as a measure of economic health (and a measure of the happiness of the various countries’ inhabitants). Second, White does not persuasively make the case that surveys that examine self-reports of happiness are guilty of value substitution. He correctly emphasizes that researchers need to be careful to avoid bias in framing their questions to study participants. However, he does not take seriously the fact that well-crafted surveys, which control for many of the forms of bias that he discusses, can reasonably use selfreported happiness as a proxy for expressions of subjective well-being. There is the danger that “framing effects” will influence these reports, and there is the danger of cognitive biases on the part of the researchers and study participants. However, a wellcrafted survey can be implemented in a manner that avoids many of White’s concerns. Just as a poorly designed philosophy exam will not do a good job of testing students’ philosophical skills and probably express the values of the professor who constructed the exam, a poorly designed customer-satisfaction survey will not do a good job of tracking what people want and will probably express the values of the researcher who constructed the survey. However, the biases may not be due to the researcher’s values (the researcher may just be careless or not adequately trained in how to conduct a study), and that flaw would not be due to value substitution. THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 605 Third, the utilitarian can construe White’s own proposal to encourage respect and responsiveness in policy making as a means for producing the best outcomes. Borrowing Robert Nozick’s distinction between historical and end-result theories of justice, White claims to be advancing a historical approach that focuses on the historical processes that have created the institutions to be evaluated as just or unjust (pp. 136–42). However, when characterizing his own conception of policy making based on respect and responsiveness, he argues that policy making should maximize the degree and extent of autonomous choice (p. 148). Given White’s own assumptions and commitments in the argument, there are two problems with this proposal. First, it is an end-result approach instead of a historical approach: it is a consequentialist theory that takes the good to be autonomous choice. So White’s own theory may be construed as a version of consequentialism that takes the capacity to make autonomous choices to be the good that is central to well-being. Second, White’s own proposal is an end-result approach that requires policy makers to create rules that bring about his own comprehensive conception of the good; that is, White’s own prescription of how policy making should be done involves a value substitution that imposes his own values on policy makers who may not endorse his commitment to liberal neutrality. The book has the casual tone of an undergraduate class lecture, and in the manner of a class lecture the discussion jumps from a careful and scholarly assessment of the academic literature to jokes and wisecracks. Student readers may find the shift in tone to be refreshing, a pleasant respite from the dreary arguments, but researchers may quickly become impatient with the pedantic tone and trite digressions. It is impressive, though, how in his central line of inquiry White manages to touch on a wide range of topics that are of central importance to the ethics of economics, economics in ethics, and ethics out of economics. The book would be well suited as a textbook to supplement the classic literature for an undergraduate course on philosophy, politics, and economics. DANIEL D. MOSELEY Duke University and University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill F Advanced Introduction to the Austrian School of Economics By Randall G. Holcombe Cheltenham, U.K.: Edward Elgar, 2014. Pp. xi, 126. $27.95 paperback. Following the fall of socialism in eastern Europe and the past two recessions, the Austrian School of economics has received unprecedented interest. The Austrians have long argued that socialism cannot allocate resources efficiently against mainstream claims that central planning can deliver faster growth than capitalism (see David Levy VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 606 F BOOK REVIEWS and Sandra Peart, “Soviet Growth and American Textbooks,” Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization 78 [2011]: 110–25). Similarly, the past two recessions have made it clear that aggregate supply and demand do not tell the whole story and that the causes of specific capital misallocations need to be understood (Lawrence H. White, The Clash of Economic Ideas [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012]). But the Austrian School is more than just these two instances of going against the mainstream. The most interesting aspect of the school is that it claims to provide a coherent account of the entrepreneurial market process from which such contrarian ideas logically follow. Randall Holcombe’s “advanced introduction” is, hence, a very welcome contribution to the literature on the Austrian School. The book is aimed toward readers who are already familiar with the neoclassical equilibrium framework but are curious to learn more about the Austrian theory of what happens outside the equilibrium. Other recent introductions to Austrian economics have been either at a more introductory level (Gene Callahan, Economics for Real People [Auburn, Ala.: Ludwig von Mises Institute, 2004]) or at a far more encyclopedic level (Peter Boettke, ed., The Elgar Companion to Austrian Economics [Cheltenham, U.K.: Edward Elgar, 2004]; Peter Boettke and Christopher Coyne, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Austrian Economics [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015]). By contrast, Holcombe’s book is geared toward those who aren’t yet sure whether to invest the time to read the Austrian literature. Does the book succeed? The challenge to provide a very concise account of an increasingly large literature is considerable. Furthermore, because Austrian economics goes against some key elements of neoclassical economics, both in terms of foundations and in terms of policy implications, to be convincing a sympathetic presentation needs to avoid straw-manning neoclassical economics. In my view, with a few exceptions, Holcombe does an outstanding job in meeting both challenges. His book is by far the best short introduction to Austrian economics that exists on the market today. The first chapter introduces the key elements of the Austrian toolbox. First of all, the Austrian theory models all economic agents as fallible; they have access to limited and dispersed knowledge—that is, they know different things, and no one has full knowledge of what the others know. This assumption may create serious difficulties for building mathematical models, but it is nonetheless realistic. This is the situation that people face in the real world. Once we set up the analysis in such a manner, the main dilemma that economic theory needs to solve is, how do people’s plans ever get coordinated? This question is more complicated than just the question about resource allocation, and it includes an inherent time dimension. The mechanism that Austrian economics uses to explain coordination is the agents’ entrepreneurial alertness to various opportunities for profit. All social order, the market in particular, is defined by the process of its emergence as all agents are constantly searching for opportunities that are yet unnoticed by others. In the case of THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 607 markets, arbitrage plays a particularly important role in creating the system of equilibrium prices, which in turn provides information for wide-scale coordination. As Holcombe points out, several departures from the neoclassical models follow. Most importantly, competition is understood as a rivalrous and dynamic process, and the subjectivity of preferences looms much larger because of the assumption of heterogeneous knowledge. For example, different firms may make different assumptions about consumer demand, and their rivalrous competition provides a test as to which firm has made a better guess. In this way, the market reveals itself as a discovery process—a discovery of consumer demands and a discovery of new cost-reducing production methods. One of the key Austrian insights Holcombe reiterates throughout the book is that goods and services do not have intrinsic value that somehow can be discovered independent of the transactions that determine and reveal that value. The market generates that information about the value of goods and services, so the information does not exist without the market to create it. This is especially significant with regard to capital goods, because they are durable goods whose value depends upon the value of the final goods they will produce. Expectations about future market conditions, clouded by the uncertainty of the future, determine the value of capital goods, and capital markets are required to coordinate these expectations of investors. (p. 48) The second chapter provides a good overview of the Austrian theory of the firm as developed by authors such as Nicolai Foss, Peter Klein, Richard Langlois, and Frederic Sautet. This theory focuses on division of knowledge and the learning processes facilitated by the organizational environment of the firm. In the same way that the information provided by prices would not be generated without the market process, certain forms of knowledge required in the production processes would not exist without the environment of the firm. Holcombe also makes clear the reason for another important departure from mainstream economics: because of the dynamic understanding of markets, as long as free entry exists, profits are understood as a sign that productivity increases are taking place rather than as a sign of monopolistic inefficiencies that need to be rectified by the government. Although Holcombe presents such insights well, in my view this chapter remains the weakest in the book because it does not do a fair job of presenting the mainstream background on which the Austrian theory builds and from which it departs to some extent. For instance, there is no explicit mention of Ronald Coase, Armen Alchian, Harold Demsetz, or Oliver Williamson, although their ideas are briefly described. Even worse, the chapter uses production functions as its main counterpart but misrepresents them. Ironically, Holcombe describes production functions as doing much more than they actually can. He refers to the “recipe given in the production function” (p. 22) and claims that the production function embeds the “management VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 608 F BOOK REVIEWS function of the firm” (p. 24). In fact, the production function is a black-box perspective on the firm that says nothing about how the firm operates internally. It only tells how many output goods are produced with given combinations of inputs; it is an accounting perspective of the firm that says nothing about how the outputs are produced. In other words, it contains no recipe or description of management. Despite this error, the chapter still does a good job of emphasizing the need to account for entrepreneurship in the theory of the firm, but it would greatly benefit from using Gary Miller’s “managerial dilemmas” (Managerial Dilemmas [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992]) as a term of comparison instead of the theory of production functions. The third chapter gets at the core of the policy implications. One question that often arises is why most Austrian economists are much more libertarian minded than the rest of the profession. Is this just a sociological artifact of how the school survived? As Holcombe explains, sociology provides only a small part of the answer. The more interesting part has to do with the implications of focusing on dispersed knowledge, on the entrepreneurial process, and on the role of the price system as a mechanism for coordination. Holcombe starts by describing the socialist calculation debate, explaining why the efficient allocation of resources, including for research and development, cannot occur absent market prices for capital goods. Second, he addresses the mixed economy, noting that by distorting price signals it often generates unintended consequences while at the same time hampering the market mechanism for dealing with unexpected problems. Third, he provides a brief look at long-term economic history and then revisits the connection between profit making and economic progress. He concludes this chapter with a brief discussion of welfare concerns, criticizing “the static view of welfare maximization” for overlooking “the fact that inefficiencies in resource allocation present a profit opportunity for entrepreneurs” and for being “overly optimistic about the prospect of government intervention producing an improvement in resource allocation” (p. 66). A possible critique of this chapter is that it doesn’t explicitly address industrial policy, which is still advocated in a development context by prominent economists such as Dani Rodrik. The fourth chapter focuses on the Austrian business cycle theory (ABCT). This chapter may be the best in the book, and it is one from which both Austrians and non-Austrians can benefit. Holcombe’s presentation is very careful and rigorous. First, he points out that ABCT holds that booms and busts would occur even without central banks: “the cycle is caused by fluctuations in the money supply,” and it is “completely endogenous to the economy; that is, there is no outside shock that leads to the cycle” (p. 73). The ABCT in its simplest form is essentially a tragedy-of-the-commons theory of the fractional-reserve banking system. From the point of view of competing firms and banks, aggregate consumer demand is a commons, and banks have the incentive to “overgraze the commons” by lending too much, hence producing the unsustainable boom. As Holcombe explains, “A bank cannot unilaterally decide that the economy [is] entering a boom phase” THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 609 because if it reduces loaning activity in the boom period, “it would eliminate its source of profit” (p. 75). Second, Holcombe moves on to explain the more widely known aspect of ABCT—namely that central banks, rather than solving the commons problem, make matters worse because they add another source of monetary expansion and distort the signal provided by interest rates: “This [distortion] adds another degree of uncertainty to entrepreneurs because to anticipate the future they must anticipate the actions of the central bank” (p. 77). Third, he connects the simple theory of fluctuations to the theory of capital structure, explaining why the booms and busts do not occur uniformly throughout the economy but tend to be localized in specific sectors. He then also connects the discussion about business cycles to the theory of entrepreneurship as developed by Joseph Schumpeter and Israel Kirzner and discusses the possibility that creative destruction may itself cause business cycles. Finally, if ABCT is a tragedy-of-the-commons theory, what can be done? Holcombe ends the chapter by pointing to the research on free banking, which explains how, before central banks acquired the role of lenders of last resort, private banks organized in clearinghouses for the purpose of monitoring each other and occasionally helping the members that got in trouble. The last chapter provides an overview of the history of the Austrian School, how it reemerged in the 1970s and grew into the present active research program. The chapter also includes some brief remarks about the school’s ideology and methodology. For a long time, economists curious about the Austrian School faced the problem that all substantive introductions to the school were gigantic books. Hence, they were naturally skeptical about whether the required time investment was worth it, and, at best, they became aware only of small disconnected parts, such as ABCT. Not anymore. Randall Holcombe has done the apparently impossible: writing a short introduction to the Austrian School that presents all the key elements in its toolbox and shows how the most controversial implications follow from the basic framing of the problem in terms of coordination, entrepreneurship, dispersed knowledge, and out-of-equilibrium processes. VLAD TARKO Dickinson College F The Philanthropic Revolution: An Alternative History of American Charity By Jeremy Beer Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015. Pp. ix, 124. $19.95 paperback. Robert Higgs and Elizabeth Bernard Higgs reminded Independent Review readers in a recent “Etceteras” column that “[a] ship cannot make much headway when it VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 610 F BOOK REVIEWS is held back by a sea anchor. In our voyage toward a truly free society, lack of compassion for the less fortunate acts as such an anchor” (“Compassion—a Critical Factor for Attaining and Maintaining a Free Society,” The Independent Review 19, no. 4 [Spring 2015]: 627). In The Theory of Moral Sentiments, Adam Smith argues that compassion—from the Latin compati, “to suffer with”—is innate: “By the imagination we place ourselves in . . . [the] situation [of someone in need], we conceive ourselves enduring all the same torments, we enter, as it were into his body, and become in some measure the same person with him, and thence form some idea of his sensations, and even feel something which, though weaker in degree, is not altogether unlike them” (part I, sec. I, chap. 1, at http://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/2620). If so, the question becomes how to express our compassion. In recent decades, the American voter has expressed this compassion largely by taxing the rich and redistributing resources directly to the not-as-rich through programs such as Temporary Aid to Needy Families, the Earned Income Tax Credit, Medicare, and school lunch programs. Unfortunately, these programs have mixed motives—some not so altruistic—and mixed results. Another expression of compassion is the mammoth philanthropic movement, capped by more than eighty thousand foundations with $715 billion in assets. Such foundations, headlined by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, whose net worth exceeds $42 billion, are often touted by skeptics of big government as an antidote to it. And in some ways they are. But, argues Jeremy Beer, president of the American Ideas Institute, in many ways they provide yet another attempt to solve the world’s problems from the top down. As Beer sees traditional historiographies of philanthropy in America, they fall into one of three camps—a celebratory story of “unadulterated progress and unquestionable goodwill”; a leftist critique of “systems of social control intended to maintain class boundaries and serve middle-class and elite interests”; and a story about reformers “leading, happily, to the advancement of the American welfare state . . . paving the way toward a necessary safety net, even if they often betrayed class biases and had less than pure motives” (pp. 10–11). To these three kinds of history, Beer adds a fourth “counterhistory” that cannot be ignored—a history of secular “philanthropy’s” marginalization of traditional, theologically grounded charity. He carefully draws a picture of an increasingly powerful philanthropic establishment frustrated by traditional charity, which it often ridicules as “irrational, wasteful, parochial and politically backward” (p. 6). Although the modern philanthropic movement has done much good, Beer demonstrates that its critique of charity betrays serious problems and often misses the point. At root, modern philanthropy suffers from the same knowledge problem Austrian economists see in centrally planned economies. One of the most telling epigraphs in the volume comes from Andrew Carnegie, who gave away nearly $350 million (around $8 billion at today’s prices) for projects that included the THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 611 construction of nearly three thousand libraries and pensions for steelworkers and teachers. Carnegie asserted that “one of the serious obstacles to the improvement of our race is indiscriminate charity. It were better for mankind that the millions of the rich were thrown into the sea than so spent as to encourage the slothful, the drunken, and the unworthy. Of every thousand dollars spent in so-called charity today, it is probable that nine hundred and fifty dollars is unwisely spent—so spent, indeed, as to produce the very evils which it hopes to mitigate or cure” (p. 1). I recall reading this statement years ago and nodding in agreement. After all, Carnegie was a genius at making money. Doesn’t that make him a genius at spending it to improve humankind? He did build almost three thousand libraries, surely a worthy cause. However, this view is wishfully naive. How did Carnegie know that 95 percent of “so-called charity” was being misspent? How did he really know that his own money was being spent more wisely? He didn’t. To know how to be wisely charitable, you have to know a great deal about the recipient of the charity. And Carnegie didn’t. This is one of Beer’s core arguments, which unfolds as he examines the history of the philanthropic revolution—of philanthropy versus charity—aptly citing witnesses who understood why charity means much more than “scientifically” giving money away to worthy causes. Below the thin, rarefied air of philanthropic professionals, many Americans have breathed and still breathe the Judeo-Christian ideal that the purpose of charity isn’t merely to solve problems of scarcity; rather, it is to give “testimony” of God’s love and so to “unlock the secret of the universe”—transferring wealth “from this world to the next” and thus “placing treasure in heaven” (p. 17). This traditional view of charity prevailed at the country’s founding, but Beer shows that it came under attack beginning with the Second Great Awakening around 1830, which spread the idea that humankind could be perfected on earth. This idea of perfection clashed with traditional charities, which rarely tried to stigmatize and reform recipients. Traditional charity didn’t make careful delineations between the deserving and undeserving poor. It was too lenient; it sought to aid the poor, not to change them. Unfortunately, the new noble, philanthropic goal of eliminating poverty at its root led to some high-handed practices (often sharpened by a revulsion toward poor Irish Catholic immigrants)—including programs that effectively kidnapped children from poor families to place them into “wholesome” homes where they could be reeducated. With the Civil War, the progressive movement, and the rise of the New Deal state, the attack on the inadequacies of traditional charity intensified, but the latter’s supporters kept pushing back, showing that philanthropy was missing the mark by ignoring the spiritual. True charity isn’t a one-way giving from the benign but remote (and often condescending) elite to those they deem needy; it is a mutual exchange between people with equal dignity. The benefactor gives financial aid but also a genuine smile, time, understanding, a piece of him- or herself, which is to his or her eternal credit. This is true compassion. The recipients VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 612 F BOOK REVIEWS pay back as they share themselves with benefactors and pray for them. This personalist approach is at the core of traditional Judeo-Christian teaching. Jane Addams, founder of Hull House in Chicago, put this distinction most succinctly when she spotted the problem with a wealthy philanthropist: “He tried to be ‘good to them’ but not ‘with them’ she noted” (p. 87). The poor and broken aren’t a theoretical problem; they are human beings. One incisive though anonymous homilist wrote that the poor “are with us, and their present wants clamor for our help. Shall we say that they are improvident, thriftless, intemperate? Then more loudly do their needs cry to us. We are not asked to encourage their vices, but to relieve their necessities” (qtd. on p. 65). Dorothy Day went one step further, seeing charitable acts and giving, as Beer puts it, “as a way for the giver to enter into poverty, to share it with the suffering, to bring more love into the world.” Just as God in the person of Christ entered into human poverty and shared its suffering. “When we succeed in persuading our readers to take the homeless into their homes,” Day clarified, “then we will be known as Christians because of the way we love one another” (p. 92). Blessed are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of God. In contrast, cut off from their spiritual roots, philanthropists during this era increasingly embraced an alternative to eradicate poverty—eugenics and the forced sterilization of those unfit to pass along their genes. (Today some have descended one step deeper by justifying abortion as a means of ending poverty.) Beer closes The Philanthropic Revolution with thoughts about how to revive the personalist, localist tradition of charity in our society. Quoting Gary Anderson on the Book of Sirach earlier in the book, he reminds us that “having money is tantamount to a spiritual ordeal whose outcome is determined by whether one has the courage to give it away” as well as the compassion to give oneself away at the same time (The Place of the Poor in the Biblical Tradition [New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2013], p. 59, qtd. on p. 23). Beer’s point is not a wholesale condemnation of modern philanthropy—which has achieved many good things that traditional charity alone could not accomplish, such as the eradication of disease. His sobering point is to remind me and the rest of his readers that this isn’t enough. ROBERT M. WHAPLES Wake Forest University F The Forgotten Depression, 1921: The Great Crash That Cured Itself By James Grant New York: Simon and Schuster, 2014. Pp. xii, 254. $28 hardcover. The Forgotten Depression is a narrative history of the depression of 1920–21. Although it is informed by a very definite theory—the Austrian business cycle theory—it is not a THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 613 standard work in applied economics. It does not first present the theory in a rigorous formulation and then move on to apply the theory by adducing pertinent qualitative facts and statistical data to explain a complex historical event such as a depression. It instead proceeds by way of anecdotes and contemporary media accounts, liberally seasoned with telling quotations from politicians, policy makers, economists, business leaders, and other contemporary observers of the unfolding depression. Data on money, prices, and production are inserted at crucial points to keep the reader abreast of the economy’s precipitous decline, but they do not dominate and weigh down the story. James Grant, a masterful stylist, effectively weaves these disparate elements into a seamless and compelling narrative that never flags in pace or wanders off track. The book should appeal to a wide variety of readers, from college students and business professionals to academic economists and policy makers. By proceeding anecdotally, Grant gives the reader an intimate “feel” for the intellectual milieu prevailing at the time, offering a bracing immersion into an economic paradigm unimaginably alien to contemporary thinking about business cycles. It is for this reason that the book is especially valuable for academic economists whatever their theoretical bent or policy predilections. Grant conveys to the reader a clear understanding of a policy for curing depressions that was nearly universally prescribed in the era before macroeconomic concepts and formulas fastened themselves upon the minds of economists and media opinion molders. This policy is today derisively referred to as “liquidationist.” To understand the liquidationist position, one must first grasp its foundational concepts and assumptions. In the world of the early 1920s so richly portrayed by Grant, there was no national macroeconomic entity with which economic theory and policy were concerned: “As far as the political-economic mind of 1920 was concerned, there was no ‘U.S. economy.’ And as the economic totality was yet unimagined, so too was the government’s role in directing, managing and stimulating it” (p. 128; see also p. 67). Economists—with a few notable exceptions—did not think of the “price level” as a unitary statistical construct or worry overmuch about its fluctuations. Nor did they try to calculate “aggregate demand” or total spending or even consider either relevant to economic performance. Indeed, for most economists, the core of the market economy was the interdependent system of money prices, including wage and interest rates. Money prices were seen as the foundation for the calculations of revenues, costs, profits, and asset values upon which entrepreneurs based their resource-allocation decisions. Furthermore, it was widely recognized that money prices were in constant flux as they coordinated economic activities in the face of ceaseless change in consumer tastes, business organization, technology, population, labor skills, and so on. As Grant aptly and incisively expresses his theme in the preface, “The hero of my narrative is the price mechanism” (p. 2). The favorable view of liquidation as a cure for depression thus arose naturally out of the belief that the price mechanism, when left undisturbed, benignly adapts resource allocation and production to the underlying economic realities. As Grant VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 614 F BOOK REVIEWS points out, to liquidate, as the term was used at the time, simply meant “to throw on the market” (p. 172). In this sense, “liquidating” labor, inventories, farms, and businesses was a call to allow the price system to operate to discover the configuration of wages, prices, and asset values appropriate to the reemployment of idle resources in the production of goods most urgently demanded by consumers. If this price adjustment incidentally resulted in deflation, then so be it. In lieu of the fictitious concept of a unitary price level, inert and resistant to movement, money prices were conceived as naturally and fluidly (but not instantly) moving up and down like a swarm of bees in flight. The fact that the “price swarm” might be ascending or descending would not inhibit and, indeed, might be required to facilitate necessary changes in the relative positions of money prices. (The metaphor of a “price swarm” wasn’t coined until 1942 by Arthur W. Marget in The Theory of Prices: A Re-examination of the Central Problems of Monetary Theory, 2 vols. [New York: Kelley, 1966, pp. 2:330–36], but it aptly describes the earlier classical-liquidationist view of the value of money.) Deflation presented no special problem because the classical view of the value of money still prevailed. In this view, money’s value was simply the unaveraged array of money prices inverted to reveal the alternative quantities of each good or service that exchanged for the money unit—for example, the dollar. Money prices fluctuated freely, so then must the value of money, which was determined in the same integral market process. Grant’s judicious choice of quotations shows how pervasive and deeply ingrained was the view that the only sure cure for the depression was deflation and liquidation of overblown resource and asset prices. Here are some examples. Benjamin Strong, the governor of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, foresaw the need for deflation and liquidation at the height of the postwar boom in 1919, writing that an anticipated change in Federal Reserve Board and Treasury policy “will insure during the next year or two a very considerable liquidation of our banking position . . . and a considerable decline in the price level” (qtd. on p. 92). The Berkeley economist Adolph C. Miller, a member of the Federal Reserve Board, opined in 1919, “Where there has been inflation, there must follow a deflation, as a necessary condition of economic health,” although Miller doubted that this deflation could and would be done (qtd. on pp. 94–95). Another member of the board and concurrently the comptroller of the currency, John Skelton Williams, in early 1921 viewed the global collapse of commodity prices as “inevitable” and welcomed the day when “the private citizen is able to acquire, at the expenditure of a dollar of his hardearned money, something approximating the quantity and quality which that dollar commanded in prewar times” (qtd. on p. 118). As Grant concludes, the entire Federal Reserve Board was in remarkable agreement: “A continuing, drastic and perhaps violent rollback in prices, and therefore in wages, was the way forward” (p. 118). The Federal Reserve Bank of Boston identified “two important conditions precedent to the laying of enduring foundations for the future stability of business, namely, liquidation and deflation . . . and an increasingly satisfactory banking situation with reserves augmented and loans decreasing [i.e., bank credit contraction]” THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 615 (p. 120). A. Barton Hepburn, a former comptroller of the currency, also declared for bank-credit contraction and price deflation in 1920, lamenting, “The people of the country have by no means realized as yet the necessity for economy, liquidation of loans and curtailment in the use of credits. We will never be able to bring about the desired deflation until the general extravagance is curtailed” (qtd. on p. 98). Even some prominent academic economists took up the case for deflation. Professor Edward W. Kemmerer of Princeton University, a leading monetary theorist, vigorously exhorted an audience of bankers in mid-1920, “We must have contraction. . . . We can’t go ahead with our business and make much progress . . . until we get substantial contraction” (qtd. on p. 125 n.). Politicians also joined the chorus calling for deflation. In his inaugural address in March 1921, President Warren G. Harding perceptively declaimed in its favor, “The economic mechanism is intricate and its parts interdependent, and has suffered the shocks and jars incident to abnormal demands, credit inflations, and price upheavals. . . . Prices must reflect the receding fever of war activities. . . . We must face a condition of grim reality, charge off our losses and start afresh [i.e., liquidate]. It is the oldest lesson of civilization” (qtd. on pp. 135–36). There was no fear among contemporary observers that, as current macroeconomic jargon would put it, “aggregate supply curves” would shift slowly and painfully to the right because entrepreneurs’ and workers’ expectations would adjust very slowly to the new reality. For liquidationists, in contrast, deflation would proceed very rapidly because bankers, investors, entrepreneurs, and consumers expected it to do so. And they expected it to do so because the intellectual paradigm and the monetary policy regime fostered such expectations. Even though the Fed was up and running, it did not yet see its task as preventing money prices from adjusting to changed conditions of money supply and demand. Contemporary economic observers also did not fret about the modern specter of a runaway deflationary spiral that might result from plunging prices stoking expectations of further declines in prices and inducing consumers and entrepreneurs to delay purchases into the indefinite future. The reasons they ignored such an eventuality were obvious. First, such an event had never been experienced previously under the gold standard. Second, according to the liquidationist view, credit contraction and deflation was the most expeditious method for realigning money prices and costs, in particular wage rates. It was well understood that capitalists and entrepreneurs did not react to some abstract price level but to actual or expected price margins. Deflation under a freely operating price mechanism did not just lower the height of the price swarm but also deftly reconfigured it so that price margins expanded to the point where entrepreneurial pessimism and malaise gave way to optimism and energetic risk taking. The liquidationist policy was criticized at the time by a small but notable group of economists, foremost among them Irving Fisher, John Maynard Keynes, and the Swede Gustav Cassel. These economists formulated what came to be known VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 616 F BOOK REVIEWS as the “stabilizationist position,” according to which maintaining a constant price level was the necessary and sufficient condition for ridding the economy of business cycles, especially depression and unemployment. For these economists, deflation was “a cruel and colossal blunder” (p. 123). Cassel denied that gradual deflation was possible and foretold that the Fed would not be able to control the rate of descent of prices or the level to which they would tumble. Writing two years after the 1920–21 depression had already ended, Keynes claimed that deflation would induce “everyone in business to go out of business for the time being” and “everyone who is contemplating expenditure to postpone orders so long as he can” (qtd. on p. 124). In any event, as Grant demonstrates, the liquidationists proved to be correct. Cassel’s dire warning that deflation, once unleashed, would become unhinged from economic fundamentals was not substantiated. And Keynes’s dire assessment of the effect of deflation was proved false two years before he wrote it down. During the depression, total spending or nominal gross national product (GNP) tumbled by 24 percent from $91.5 billion in 1920 to $69.6 billion in 1921, and real GNP shrank by 9 percent. As Grant puts it, there was a “perpendicular plunge in commodity prices,” which never before had “fallen so far and so fast” (p. 182). Both farm prices and wholesale prices plummeted by more than one-third in 1921. Unemployment reached 15.3 percent in 1921. But despite “the breakneck rate of decline” of prices—or rather because of it—the liquidation process came naturally to an end, and prices reached a finite bottom beginning in March 1921. Contrary to Cassel and Keynes, deflation did not continue indefinitely or bring about a cessation of all economic activities and business expenditures. In fact, the U.S. economy entered a remarkably strong and rapid recovery in 1921 (pp. 186–90). Paradoxically, in the immediate aftermath of its greatest triumph, the liquidationist position was completely discredited and placed beyond the pale of rational discourse. By the mid-1920s, the early Fisher–Keynes macroeconomics of price-level stabilization swept the field in the English-speaking world. Under the sway of this sophisticated brand of monetary crankism, policy makers and politicians deliberately disabled the price mechanism and ensured that less than a decade later a garden-variety recession would be transformed into the tragedy of the Great Depression. JOSEPH T. SALERNO Pace University F Stages of Occupational Regulation: Analysis of Case Studies By Morris M. Kleiner Kalamazoo, Mich.: W. E. Upjohn Institute, 2013. Pp. xviii, 289. $20 paperback. Occupational regulation has significantly grown in breadth and scope over the past several decades in the United States. The White House has taken notice—recently THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 617 releasing a report documenting the costs and benefits of occupational licensing (U.S. Department of the Treasury, Council of Economic Advisors, and U.S. Department of Labor, Occupational Licensing: A Framework for Policymakers [Washington, D.C.: White House, July 2015], at https://www.whitehouse.gov/sites/default/ files/docs/licensing_report_final_nonembargo.pdf). No researcher has done more to shed light on and bring attention to the effects of this important labor-market institution than Morris Kleiner. In his latest work, Stages of Occupational Regulation, Kleiner presents case studies of seven different occupations that have varying degrees of occupational regulation. As more states begin to regulate entry into particular professions with occupational licensing laws, the effects are likely to differ, and this is precisely what Kleiner illustrates. Occupational regulation is often separated into three distinct levels of restriction. Licensing laws, the most onerous of the three, make it illegal for an individual to practice in a profession without first meeting certain requirements (such as passing an exam or completing a specified amount of schooling). Certification laws do not restrict entry but instead protect titles: individuals are barred from using specific titles (for example, “certified financial analyst”) without first completing a set of entry requirements; they are free to practice in the profession if they don’t complete these requirements, but only if they do not use the protected title. Registration laws maintain a list of professionals that is made available to the public and is the leastrestrictive form of occupational regulation. In this book, Kleiner presents a very careful and comprehensive empirical examination of the effects of licensing on seven professions. Although numerous regression results are presented and discussed, readers whose eyes glaze over when they are presented with t-statistics can easily gloss over these results and still learn a great deal about the effects of occupational regulation. A recurring theme is how occupational licensing parallels unionization. Kleiner points out the similarities and differences between the two institutions—most notably that whereas unionization rates have substantially declined, the percentage of workers directly affected by occupational licensing has substantially increased (p. 8). Interior designers are professionals who are licensed in just four states and the District of Columbia (p. 16). Kleiner is unable to find evidence that licensing has resulted in any significant labor-market changes (such as higher wages or slower employment growth) for interior designers, but at the same time a careful summary of the existing literature provides little evidence that regulation has increased consumer safety or improved the quality of services, arguments that proponents of occupational regulation often make. Kleiner finds similar results for mortgage brokers and preschool teachers, where a slightly larger number of states (eighteen and twenty-seven, respectively) license each profession (p. 11). What seems to emerge in Kleiner’s book is that occupational regulation does not impose measurable costs on consumers until most states regulate a profession. For electricians and plumbers, who have to be licensed in nearly all VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 618 F BOOK REVIEWS states, licensing seems to have increased wages without reducing the incidence or severity of on-the-job injury (pp. 156–66). In the case of a fully mature regulated profession, dentistry, Kleiner shows that dentists can increase earnings by limiting the number of tasks that dental hygienists are allowed to perform (pp. 190–91). Once again, there is little evidence that consumers benefit from dentists protecting their turf by means of more intrusive regulation of dental hygienists (pp. 201–2). Alice Ramey noted in her review of Kleiner’s first book, Licensing Occupations: Ensuring Quality or Restricting Competition? (Kalamazoo, Mich.: Upjohn Institute, 2006), that she was “left wanting more” (“Book Review: Licensing Occupations,” Monthly Labor Review [June 2010]: 56). Reading Kleiner’s second volume on the effects of occupational regulation invokes a similar feeling for me. My feelings are not an indictment of Kleiner’s work but instead a testament to the importance of the institution and the relative lack of attention devoted to the subject. For example, although Kleiner finds that licensing has not affected wages or employment for interior designers, the estimates presented may not tell the whole story. Aspiring interior designers may be discouraged from entering the profession, a factor that would not present itself in employment estimates. Trying to hammer down the effects of occupational regulation on individuals who are considering entry into a profession is difficult. In fact, research by Mario Pagliero suggests that state bar exams are made more difficult when the number of candidates increases (“The Impact of Potential Labor Supply on Licensing Exam Difficulty,” Labour Economics 25 [2010]: 141–52). A more thorough discussion of the political economy of occupational regulation would also be enlightening. What might explain why Alabama, the District of Columbia, Florida, Louisiana, and Nevada enacted licensing legislation for interior designers, yet efforts to regulate that same profession were regularly thwarted in Minnesota (p. 21)? Also, licensing grows and spreads quickly for some professions but very slowly for others. In one case I have researched, occupational licensing for opticians grew rapidly in the 1950s but then stalled suddenly in 1988, when California was the final state to enact a new licensing law (Edward Timmons and Anna Mills, Bringing the Effects of Occupational Licensing into Focus: Optician Licensing in the United States, working paper [Arlington, Va.: Mercatus Center, February 17, 2015]). Professional organizations’ political gamesmanship in securing licensing remains an understudied issue. I have no doubt that Kleiner is already searching for solutions to these issues and trying to obtain a better understanding of the effects of occupational regulation. His hard work, passion, and dedication to bringing attention to this issue has no doubt inspired new and younger researchers like myself to pursue new studies of occupational regulation. Readers across all ranges of understanding of the issue would be well served by a careful reading of Stages of Occupational Regulation. EDWARD TIMMONS St. Francis University THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F F 619 Perilous Partners: The Benefits and Pitfalls of America’s Alliances with Authoritarian Regimes By Ted Galen Carpenter and Malou Innocent Washington, D.C.: Cato Institute, 2015. Pp. ix, 597. $24.95 cloth. Over the past several years, the U.S. government has extended its counterterrorism efforts into Africa and partnered with several governments in the region. These partnerships typically involve the host government granting permission for the United States to carry out military and drone operations in the region. In return, the U.S. government has provided a variety of aid—money, weapons, equipment—to its host governments while also looking the other way regarding human rights abuses. Such arrangements create a fundamental tension between two tenets of U.S. foreign policy—U.S. national security on the one hand and the advancement of global human rights on the other. More often than not, members of the U.S. government choose to enter into arrangements with unsavory despots to advance the former goal while directly undermining the second. A senior official succinctly captured the existing approach, noting that “[t]he countries that cooperate with us get at least a free pass [regarding human rights abuses]. . . . Whereas other countries that don’t cooperate, we ream them as best we can” (quoted in Craig Whitlock, “Niger Rapidly Emerging as a Key U.S. Partner,” Washington Post, April 14, at https://www.washingtonpost .com/world/national-security/niger-rapidly-emerging-as-a-key-us-partner/2013/ 04/14/3d3b260c-a38c-11e2-ac00-8ef7caef5e00_story.html). This fundamental tension is at the heart of Ted Galen Carpenter and Malou Innocent’s important book Perilous Partners. Carpenter and Innocent point out that this tension existed well before the current war on terror and can be traced back several decades to the early days of the Cold War. And, of course, relationships with authoritarian despots existed before the Cold War—for example, with the Soviet Union during World War II—but such Cold War partnerships became a normalized part of U.S. foreign policy. As part of its Cold War strategy, the U.S. government established a network of client states, controlled by some of the worst governments in the world, to attempt to counter the Soviet Union’s influence. This normalization resulted in what the authors refer to as the “ethical rot” of U.S. foreign policy because the partnerships undertaken in the name of promoting liberty, democratic governance, and free markets legitimized and strengthened regimes that actively undermined these very values and institutions. Following an introductory chapter, the book is broken into two parts totaling sixteen chapters. The first part focuses on the relationships between the U.S. government and its questionable Cold War allies, and the second part is focused on partnerships formed after September 11, 2001. These chapters, which make up a large majority of the book, are reason enough to read it. Unless the reader is completely VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2015 620 F BOOK REVIEWS closed-minded, the content of these chapters should make even the staunchest advocate of intervention question the value of such partnerships. I cannot hope to do justice to this content, but the core theme is that members of the U.S. government have been active participants—both directly and indirectly—in empowering and entrenching some of the worst governments in the world while knowingly undermining the very values they purport to hold dear. The associated costs have fallen largely on those living under these regimes, who are often among the most vulnerable to begin with. Of course, one might respond that these partnerships are a necessary cost of achieving broader foreign-policy goals that yield net benefits. Two issues emerge from this line of reasoning. The first issue deals with determining the recipients of the net benefits. Even if we assume that these partnerships contribute to the national security of U.S. vital interests, those who suffer under these regimes certainly do not see these partnerships as generating a net benefit. Under this scenario, the U.S. government is advancing the interests of its own citizens by actively harming other innocent citizens. The second issue deals with the assumption that these unscrupulous partnerships actually advance security. The fact, however, is that in numerous instances the partners of the U.S. government were willing and knowing participants in perpetuating violence and insecurity. For example, Carpenter and Innocent discuss the difficulties of the U.S.–Pakistan partnership following 9/11 (chapter 14), which included the Pakistani government undertaking actions that promoted violence and undermined the U.S. government’s stated goals in the region. At best, the benefits of these perilous partnerships are murky and unpredictable, while the costs are positive and often significant—innocent people are and will continue to be harmed by the U.S. government’s support of regimes that are known to be committing a variety of human rights abuses. The concluding chapter offers an approach for dealing with the fundamental tension that motivates the book. Carpenter and Innocent’s strategy is one based on “ethical pragmatism,” which suggests that the U.S. government should maintain an “arm’s length relationship” with questionable partners and only under certain situations. Specifically, the U.S. government is justified in forming partnerships “when national survival or another vital interest is truly in jeopardy” (p. 500). However, when the issue is one of secondary interests—or interests “that are pertinent but not indispensable to the preservation of America’s physical integrity, independence, domestic liberty, and economic health”—then only “modest exertions” are justified (p. 501). The bar for forming questionable partnerships must be still higher in cases of “peripheral interests,” the “loss of which would be more of an annoyance than a significant blow” (p. 502). Ultimately, this proposed solution is unsatisfying. For one thing, the categories of various interests are broad and unclear, making it difficult to ascertain what is to be included in and or excluded from each. Also missing is a discussion THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 621 of the incentives and constraints facing the key decision makers in the U.S. government. The authors implicitly model the U.S. government as a centralized and homogenous “brain” that balances the costs and benefits of partnerships to maximize the national security of U.S. citizens. In reality, however, the political decision-making process is made up of a host of different interests that often yield policies that not only fail to further national security but also actively contribute to undermining it. As Carpenter and Innocent note, “most of the close relationships that Washington developed with such allies and clients during the Cold War involved little more than the protection and promotion of peripheral interests” (p. 502). One might make a similar argument about the relationships in the post-9/11 period. This raises a crucial issue. If the members of the U.S. government have historically squandered precious lives and resources (both American and non-American) in the pursuit of insignificant peripheral interests, why should we expect them to suddenly start following a strategy of ethical pragmatism? Absent some major shift in incentives, it is likely that members of the government will continue to overstate perceived threats against supposed vital U.S. interests while perpetuating existing relationships and forming new relationships with authoritarian despots. In the closing lines, Carpenter and Innocent write that the effectiveness of their proposed strategy is “dependent on the subjective judgement of policymakers, with all of their human frailties” (p. 504). My reading of the insightful history of U.S. partnerships provided in Perilous Partners is that U.S. policy makers’ judgment is often terrible and that their human frailties are great. This combination is deadly when it comes to matters of foreign affairs and the empowerment of governments that brutalize innocent people. It is also crucial to realize that the domestic costs of these partnerships are not just the “ethical rot” of American values but also the real loss of liberties at home due to expansions in the scope of domestic-government power associated with a proactive foreign policy (see Christopher J. Coyne and Abigail R. Hall, “Perfecting Tyranny: Foreign Intervention as Experimentation in Social Control,” The Independent Review 19, no. 2 [Fall 2014]: 165–89). As I read Perilous Partners, I was continually reminded of the saying “Show me your friends, and I shall tell you who you are.” This book is extremely important precisely because it shows the reader who the friends of the U.S. government are. In doing so, it also sheds light on the nature and character of those who constitute that government. Upon reflection, it becomes clear that what is needed is not a new framework to guide policy makers but rather a fundamental rethinking of the scope and scale of power that the U.S. political elite currently wield in foreign affairs. CHRISTOPHER J. COYNE George Mason University VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2015 622 F F BOOK REVIEWS Going for Broke: Deficits, Debt, and the Entitlement Crisis By Michael Tanner Washington, D.C.: Cato Institute, 2015. Pp. x, 215. $18.95 paperback. To economists who specialize in data analysis and public policy, watching contemporary political debates about the fiscal health of the U.S. government is like listening as the crew of the Titanic argue about whether the iceberg is going to leave a scratch in the paint and who is going to be responsible for fixing it. Virtually all discussion involves some chipping away around the edges that leave the looming iceberg intact. The prevalent inability to discuss the fiscal crisis constructively is due to the inability to grasp the magnitude of the problem. Michael Tanner does a superb job of making the key points of the problem both clear and palatable for a lay audience without glossing over details that are important to specialists. Tanner begins with a thorough and compelling summary of the government’s fiscal problems, detailing the three components of government debt: debt held by the public, intragovernmental debt, and unfunded liabilities. Much debate has revolved around whether intragovernmental debt should be included in the official measure of the government’s debt and whether unfunded liabilities are debt at all (see Timothy C. Irwin, “Defining the Government’s Debt and Deficit,” Journal of Economic Surveys 29, no. 4 [2015]: 711–32). Tanner helpfully sidesteps this debate by describing the three categories of debt on a continuum from “hard” to “soft.” The softer the debt, the more options the government has about paying it back. For example, intragovernmental debt need not be paid back on a certain schedule and, where Social Security is concerned, can be arbitrarily reduced by altering the Social Security benefits schedule. Describing debt in this way takes the more realistic middle ground—soft debt does indeed matter, but the government will find ways to get around paying at least some of it. The value of unfunded liabilities, as Troy Davig, Eric M. Leeper, and Todd B. Walker demonstrate (“Unfunded Liabilities and Uncertain Fiscal Financing,” Journal of Monetary Economics 57, no. 5 [2010]: 600–619), suffers from the added problem of being extremely sensitive to assumptions about population and economic growth as well as future fiscal and monetary policy. Although there is tremendous uncertainty as to the true value of unfunded liabilities, most estimates have one thing in common: they range from “extremely large” (around $90 trillion) to “unbelievably huge” (around $220 trillion) (Joseph Lawler, “Economist Laurence Kotlikoff: U.S. $222 Trillion in Debt,” Real Clear Policy, December 1, 2012). Laurence J. Kotlikoff and Scott Burns (The Coming Generational Storm [Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2004]) estimate that these unfunded liabilities will result in significant economic upheaval as the U.S. government fights both the laws of economics and mathematics in a futile attempt to fulfill its financial obligations. THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 623 Tanner’s discussion of the federal debt is thorough and correct, though he uses the common metric for describing the magnitude of the debt: debt per gross domestic product (GDP). Debt per GDP is useful for comparing debts across countries. For example, Greece’s debt is around U.S.$350 billion. From the U.S. perspective, that amount isn’t overly large. The U.S. federal government spends $350 billion every six weeks. The amount is roughly equivalent to the annual economic output of the state of Maryland. From Greece’s perspective, however, the amount is gargantuan. Greece’s $350 billion debt is around 1.8 times the entire country’s annual economic output. For the United States, an equivalent-size debt would top $30 trillion. Debt per GDP puts a country’s debt in perspective by scaling it relative to the size of its economy. And here Tanner understates our already bleak financial condition. The government doesn’t own the GDP. GDP is (roughly speaking) the total of the people’s incomes. When one asks a bank for a loan, the bank will compare the proposed loan to the borrower’s ability to pay off the loan. And the borrower’s income is a reasonable proxy for this ability. As a consequence, it is debt relative to the borrower’s income that matters. However, GDP is not the government’s income. Tanner correctly puts the federal government’s debt and unfunded liabilities at more than $90 trillion (p. 8), or 500 percent of GDP. But the more compelling comparison is the government’s debt to the government’s income. That ratio is 3,000 percent—that is, the federal government’s $90 trillion debt is thirty times the size of the federal government’s annual income. If we extend Tanner’s opening example of the family budget, this is like a household with a $50,000 annual income being $1.5 million in debt. More disturbingly, at 2.4 percent interest (the current average rate on federal government obligations), interest on the government’s debt and unfunded obligations is almost 75 percent of federal revenues. In short, the federal government is bankrupt now. Tanner cites Douglas Elmendorf and Greg Mankiw’s list of four reasons why public debt is harmful (p. 10), though I disagree with one of them: that all money borrowed today must be repaid with interest. Tanner’s government–household analogy helps the reader understand the magnitude of the federal budget, but the analogy fails on this one point. Unlike a household, a government can assume that it will continue to exist forever. As a consequence, it need never repay its debt. All that is necessary is that it be able to service its debt in perpetuity. There are two additional reasons why public debt is harmful that none of the three authors mentions. First, the greater the public debt is, the easier it is for politicians to claim much ado about nothing. In early 2012 and in response to growing voter concern about the deficit, President Barack Obama proposed a budget that contained $300 million in cuts to community block grants. Opponents argued that cuts should come from elsewhere because community block grants serve the neediest Americans. Whether to cut this $300 million from the budget dominated the news for the better part of a month. And therein lies the danger of such massive VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016 624 F BOOK REVIEWS debts (and spending). To any reasonable person, $300 million sounds like a tremendous amount of money. Yet federal spending is so great that the government blows through $300 million every forty-two minutes. The government spent more money while politicians were talking about the problem than the proposed cuts themselves. Second, the greater the public debt is, the greater is the danger to the Federal Reserve’s autonomy. For all the discussion of the economic benefits of low interest rates to the housing market, the student-loan market, and the stock market, the single largest beneficiary of low rates is the federal government itself. Tanner points out that interest on the federal debt was more than $250 billion in 2014 (p. 9). But that amount ignores interest on intragovernmental debt—the bulk of which is held by the Social Security trust fund. If we include that interest, the annual interest expense is more than $400 billion. Yet that amount still ignores the interest on the present value of unfunded liabilities. Although the latter is not interest in the accounting sense, every year that the government foregoes having money in the bank to cover those future liabilities is a year’s worth of interest the government fails to earn to put toward those liabilities. This effect is not to be confused with crowding out, in which increased government borrowing drives up interest rates due to increased demand for loanable funds (for empirical evidence, see Eric M. Engen and R. Glenn Hubbard, “Federal Government Debt and Interest Rates,” NBER Macroeconomics 19 [April 2005]: 83–160). As of 2015, the federal government is paying an average of 2.4 percent interest on its outstanding debt. Counting just the money owed to the public and the intragovernmental debt, each percentage point increase in interest rates costs the federal government an additional $180 billion annually. The historical average interest rate the federal government has paid on its debt is 6 percent. As Tanner notes, if interest rates merely rise to their historical average, the federal government’s annual interest expense will exceed $1 trillion annually (p. 9). The federal government cannot afford this extremely large expense. The more the Federal Reserve raises interest rates, the greater the political pressure will be from the federal government to prevent rates from rising further. Tanner paints a correctly bleak and well-documented picture of the impending federal bankruptcy. To his credit, he follows this picture with an honest and thorough summary of counterarguments, including both the ridiculous (government debt isn’t really debt because we owe the money to ourselves) and the reasonable (debt is bad sometimes, just not now). He also provides a superb summary of the major contributors to the debt crisis, including Social Security, Medicare, and the Affordable Care Act, and demonstrates throughout a remarkable ability to make the mindnumbing details of these entitlements interesting and clear. One point that Tanner mentions but does not develop is that federal tax revenues have averaged a remarkably constant 17 percent (plus or minus some noise) of GDP going back to the 1950s (p. 4). Over that same period, the top personal income tax rate has ranged from a high of more than 90 percent to a low of less than THE INDEPENDENT REVIEW BOOK REVIEWS F 625 30 percent; effective corporate tax rates have ranged from 15 percent to 45 percent; estate tax rates from 35 percent to 75 percent; payroll tax rates from less than 5 percent to more than 15 percent. These ranges suggest that it doesn’t matter whether we tax the rich a lot or a little, whether we tax corporations or consumers, whether we confiscate deceased persons’ estates or not. Nothing the government has done in its wide-ranging and varied tax policies has changed the fact that the government’s tax receipts total 17 percent of the economic pie. That result underlines Tanner’s conclusion that the solution to the impending U.S. financial catastrophe lies not in growing taxes but in limiting spending. ANTONY DAVIES Duquesne University VOLUME 20, NUMBER 4, SPRING 2016
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