Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Prime ministerial musical chairs

What possible benefit would the Labor Government receive from ditching Julia Gillard now?

Yes, a Fairfax poll on Monday suggested Kevin Rudd would win an election handily if only he was swapped back in as prime minister.  Forty-four per cent of voters prefer Kevin.  Only 19 per cent prefer Julia.

But there are some heroic assumptions here, not least of which the changeover would be seamless and appear effortless.  No late-night press conference with Gillard about how she won't stand by as her party lurches to the left on asylum seekers.  No teary farewell.  Some convincing explanation of why a leadership change was necessary.

And entirely absent from hypotheticals like these are any consideration of the shape of the alternative government.

It wasn't, after all, the simple fact of Julia Gillard's appointment as Prime Minister that put voters off her.  It was what happened next:  a series of backdowns, reversals, preening factional warlords, major policies announced without checking whether they were actually possible, and, as Annabel Crabb pointed out in The Monthly, her Government's complete inability to describe why she is Prime Minister in the first place.

In politics, like policy, implementation matters more than intention.

The air of illegitimacy about this Government grew over time.  It didn't spring up instantaneously.  It's not Julia Gillard, but the policy and political decisions she has made -- from the over-scripted ''moving forward'' speech, to the carbon price turnaround, to the High Court's ''Malaysia Solution'' case.

So the question is not really who the Labor Party would like as leader, but what they plan to do when they get there.

That's, in part, why Stephen Smith would be such a bizarre choice.  His primary qualification for the role appears to be that he exists.  Not that he has any particular views, or is driven by any standout philosophy of government.

Lots of people seem to think that Simon Crean would be good as PM, but, then, lots of people thought Julia Gillard would be good too.

There seems to be growing sentiment from within the Government that a change in leadership may be necessary, but no indication that a leadership change would have any policy consequence.

Prime minsters Smith or Crean would have to decide what to do about the one policy which is eating Labor alive -- the carbon tax.  It's not just ''Convoy of No Confidence'' types who disapprove.  Newspoll suggests the climate policy only has the support of 37 per cent of Australian of voters.

''Putting a price on carbon'' is a political trap.  From the moment the carbon bills are signed into law, the Government will -- fairly or unfairly -- take ownership of every single job loss in energy and manufacturing.  Gillard may get her bills through but the next Labor prime minister would have to decide whether to maintain the system as it stands.  If the new PM does nothing, then almost every dissatisfaction with Gillard will apply to them.

And the image for the Labor Party will be even worse.  What was an aberration would become a pattern.  Is the modern ALP fundamentally unable to keep one prime minister in the Lodge for a full term?  If Labor really wants to give the electorate the impression that it is completely unable to govern like adults, then continually swapping out prime ministers would be the best way to do it.

It wouldn't be just this Government at stake.  It would be the electoral viability of the party over the next few decades.  In 2007, Labor argued voters couldn't be sure whether the Coalition was offering prime minister Howard or prime minister Costello.  In 2013 voters won't know who in the entire ALP ministry they're being asked to support.  And then in 2016, and 2019, and on and on.

The story would be a little different if Kevin Rudd was returned to the leadership.  Imagine a Rudd coup tomorrow.  Gillard herself would be the aberration, not the leadership spill:  a 14-month failed experiment.  The Labor Government would be back on the path it set out on in 2007.  Wounded, embarrassed, contrite, but alive.

But that assumes that everything goes smoothly, and that voters don't mind political parties making colossal leadership errors whilst trying to run the government.

And Rudd would still face policy questions which have no easy answers.  The former PM certainly has more forthright views on questions about climate change and refugees, but they wouldn't provide much of a guide out of the Government's mess.  On the carbon tax, Rudd would be more likely to double down than fold.

A change in leadership is an answer to a question that hasn't been asked.  The Government's problem is not just the personality at its top.

Let's face it:  Labor cooked its Government when the smartest warlords in the room decided Kevin Rudd had to go.  Everything since then has been an extended death monologue.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Liberty gets the chop

Where are our great public intellectuals on new threats to freedom of the press?  Under the Howard government, there was a minor genre of books and essays condemning the prime minister's apparent antipathy to public debate.  With titles like Silencing Dissent, academics and activists lined up to say John Howard was cracking down on his opponents.  David Marr argued in a 2007 essay that Howard was ''corrupting public debate''.  Howard had ''cowed his critics'' and ''muffled the press''.

So the silence on the inquiry into media bias is jarring.  Yesterday the Greens proposed an inquiry to look at ''whether the current media ownership landscape in Australia is serving the public interest''.  Those are weasel words.  The inquiry -- also supported by some independents and many within the government -- is obviously intended to influence what the media publishes.

After all, Rob Oakeshott supports an inquiry because he thinks ''complete rubbish'' is being written about him.  Labor MP Steve Gibbons spoke of the need for an inquiry because of ''vendettas of hate'' being waged against the government.  Greens senator Christine Milne has said ''bias is certainly one of the things which is going to be looked at''.  Bob Brown talks of the anti-Green ''hate media''.

The federal cabinet reportedly held lengthy discussions several weeks ago about ''going to war'' with News Ltd and The Australian newspaper.  Along with an inquiry, the cabinet also canvassed a government advertising boycott, because it wasn't happy with coverage of the Craig Thomson affair and journalist Glenn Milne's airing of old allegations that Julia Gillard had been tangentially associated with similar things.

But recall:  in his Howard-era essay, David Marr described the government's reluctance to use taxpayer money on objectionable artistic grants as ''censorship by poverty''.

Many agreed.  Surely by this loose standard, the Gillard government's threat of withdrawing advertising from a media company it objects to is ''censorship'' as well?  Where's the outcry?

In 2007, Robert Manne wrote the foreword of Silencing Dissent.  But in a Quarterly Essay released last week, Manne complains the ''real and present danger to the health of Australian democracy'' is actually Rupert Murdoch and The Australian.

It couldn't be that the ''health of our democracy'' has been hurt by this government's unfathomably low popularity.  Or how it dumped a prime minister, reversed a core election promise and fouled up its refugee policy beyond belief.

No, more concerning is the The Australian's ''jihad'' against the Greens.  In his essay, Manne praises the Greens as ''the most important left-wing party in Australian history''.  The Labor Party -- Australia's oldest political party and the first labour party to hold government on the planet -- might disagree.

Well, perhaps Manne is using ''left wing'' as a synonym for ''authoritarian''.  Surely there's no other word to describe Bob Brown's recent suggestion the government should impose newspaper licences.

The only reason you'd impose a licence is so you have the power to take the licence away.  That's why in the English-speaking world, newspaper licensing was abandoned nearly four centuries ago.  It was tyrannical.

Certainly, the proposed media inquiry may be limited to studying things like privacy or media ownership.  Or it may not go ahead at all.  The government has enough on its plate.  And it is a legitimate question whether the law has set correct limits on media ownership concentration.  (Or whether any limits should exist.  The press is under extreme commercial pressure from the internet.  At no time in history have media moguls been less powerful.)

Still, there's a comprehensive review going on right now into every facet of media regulation -- the convergence review.  Few seem to care about that.

The idea that a government might regulate a media organisation specifically because it didn't like an editorial line is an obvious attack on free speech.  Should companies be broken up, their ownership divested, as punishment for being critical, fairly or unfairly, of a government?

Indeed, the fact the government is talking about an inquiry gives it leverage over critics.  Surely few genuine supporters of free expression are comfortable with that.  Imagine the furore if John Howard had done -- or suggested -- anything similar.

The Gillard government is one of the most shambolic in history.  No surprise then that some people want to talk about failings of the press.  Fixating on unfair media coverage must be comforting for those let down by Labor's performance in government.

In his recent book, Sideshow, former finance minister Lindsay Tanner argued the media was too easily distracted by the frills of public life, to the detriment of policy analysis.

This might be a fair point.  But his publicity tour was revealing.  Tanner was the fourth most powerful person in the Rudd government.  He retired just as it imploded.  He'd know some things of public interest.  Yet in interviews, Tanner refused to be drawn on the inside workings of that government.  He just wanted to speak about media perfidy.  Complaining about the media sideshow is just another sideshow.

Predictably, the News of the World scandal in Britain was used by Australian politicians to embarrass their press critics.  Months later there's still no evidence to suggest phone hacking of any kind has occurred Australia.  Yet cries for a media inquiry have only gotten louder.

Silencing Dissent asked readers to ''judge for themselves whether the erosion of democratic institutions described in this book is the accidental result of a particular leadership style or part of a more insidious attempt to reshape democracy''.

The question was shrill then.  But many nodded along at the time.  And for those who did, that same question should now be asked of the politicians clamouring for legislative solutions to negative media coverage.

Friday, September 09, 2011

Replay of Samson's fate

There's a touch of Samson-in-the temple about the Gillard government -- it's a government that could bring itself down and everything around it.

In the Bible, Samson is an Israelite blessed with superhuman strength.  An angel promises Samson's mother that her son's strength will endure for as long as he does not cut his hair.  Samson uses his powers to win many battles against the Philistines.

After Samson falls in love with Delilah, the Philistines pay her to find out the source of his strength.  When Delilah discovers Samson's secret, she has a servant cut off his hair.  The Philistines capture Samson, cut out his eyes and imprison him.

Later, the Philistines celebrate their victory and Samson is brought to a temple to entertain the assembled masses.  By this time his hair has grown back Samson asks his guard if he can lean against the temple's pillars.  Yelling ''Let me die with the Philistines'', he pushes against the pillars and destroys himself, the temple and everyone inside.

As the Book of Judges tells it:  ''Samson killed more people at his death than he had killed during his life.''

The Gillard government might be in its death throes for months.  The carbon tax, the mining tax, the broadband network and asylum seeker policy are now viewed as simply political issues to be managed until the next opinion poll.

The restraint that comes with a government implementing policy it may then have to manage during its next term in office is missing.

Impending electoral mortality may have been the reason behind the extraordinary statement from federal Transport Minister Anthony Albanese that the political coverage of Rupert Murdoch's News limited was a ''real concern'' and ''they've got to stop this sort of nonsense''.  Politicians complaining about the media are nothing new.  What's different this time is that there's the threat of a media inquiry in the air.  Government has done nothing to dispel the impression that an inquiry will be less about media balance and more about retribution.

A media inquiry is being urged by the Greens, who know their time as a co-equal partner in government will soon be over.  It will be a very long time before an Australian prime minister promises to share a weekly cup of tea with the leader of the Greens.

Those barracking for a media inquiry need to be careful.  There are more than a few Coalition MPs who would welcome an investigation of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation's understanding of political balance.

Greens leader Bob Brown was right when he said there is a blurring of news and opinion in the Australian media.  But that's been happening for years and it's none of the government's business.  Consumers can decide for themselves whether they want to buy what media organisations are selling.

Julia Gillard's attack on the High Court after its decision on the legality of sending asylum seekers to Malaysia, and Anthony Albanese's attack on the media, came only weeks after all sides of politics called for calm in the face of community anger over the carbon tax.

The people who are angry about the carbon tax are entitled to feel confused.  It appears prime ministers can be angry at High Court judges and newspaper editors, but voters can't be angry at politicians who break their promises.

The irony of the PM's complaining that the Chief Justice expressed an opinion before his appointment that was different from the one after he became Chief Justice could not have escaped her.

A government facing an almost inevitable election defeat isn't constrained by the ordinary conventions of political conduct.  As the carbon tax grows in unpopularity by the day, the chances of it being implemented increase.  The government and the Greens know they have only a few months in which to pass it into legislation.  The carbon tax is also the ultimate poison pill.  It will take years and billions of dollars for an Abbott government to unwind.

In a normal or semi-normal political environment, a government would at least pretend it had some sort of mandate to enact something as dramatic and far-reaching as the carbon tax.

But Australian politics has been far from normal ever since Kevin Rudd's decapitation.  The sight of those business leaders who, a year ago, were calling for a carbon tax so they could have ''certainty'' now calling for the tax to be delayed, only adds to the air of unreality that pervades Canberra.


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Thursday, September 08, 2011

The case against the carbon tax

In a leaked briefing, UK Prime Minister David Cameron's energy adviser warned him that British carbon abatement policies would raise electricity prices by 30 per cent.

The briefing addresses questions raised by Cameron about the merits of these policies.

European Union climate action commissioner Connie Hedegaard has no such misgivings.  She says the EU policies drive job growth and innovation without sacrificing the economy.

Inauspiciously, this week US solar power industry poster child Solyndra went bankrupt, shedding 1000 jobs.  Even though it received $US535 million in low-interest government loans -- half a million dollars per job -- this was insufficient to tilt the playing field in its favour.  Australia's experiences with subsidies for turbine blade facilities in Victoria have similarly failed.

Subsidies and taxes can force production into high-cost and more labour-intensive directions but even when they do, this doesn't bring net job creation.  If it did, we would benefit from taxes to replace tractors on farms with hand ploughing.  That would require a tenfold increase in employment but would simultaneously lower productivity by nine-tenths.

Unfortunately, the job increases would be offset by job losses.  Net job creation from discriminatory taxes or subsidies is only possible with reduced living standards.

Electricity from wind in Australia costs three times as much as from coal or gas.  Forcing the adoption of wind farms for electricity supply can no more increase jobs than if we required labour-intensive, pedal-powered turbines for generating electricity.

As a recent Productivity Commission report demonstrated, Australia is no slouch when it comes to wasting money and raising costs in its energy policy.  The commission showed that Australian spending on greenhouse gas abatement, while not reaching the giddy heights of the EU, was higher than in China, the US, Japan and South Korea.

And our industries carry a far greater burden than those in rival primary product-exporting countries.  The commission estimated the cost of Australian emission-reduction programs at $473 million to $694 million in terms of total subsidy equivalent.

The largest component of this, the 20 per cent renewable energy requirement, is still gearing up and will cost $4 billion a year by 2020.  Moreover, the commission estimates exclude Australia's direct government subsidies in 93 programs, which cost $1 billion in 2009-10.

Australian carbon abatement taxes and subsidies mean lower competitiveness, exports diverted to rival suppliers and job losses, with no effect on global emissions.


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Union thuggery part of more damaging malaise

Recent allegations of misconduct are a dreadful example of union officials showing disdain for the interests of those they serve, their members.  Workers notice officials consumed by self-interest and it is a factor in the continued decline of trade union membership.

The union official's job is not a bed of roses.  They have to master elements of Australia's complex labour laws.  Unco-operative employers, unappreciative members and contrarian tribunals are encountered.  Union elections come regularly;  irksome rival factions have to be kept in their place.

Many unions are large organisations responsible for managing significant financial resources.  The CFMEU is one of the best resourced.  The latest report of the Victorian Branch of the CFMEU to Fair Work Australia recorded total assets of $48.7 million and total members funds of $42.8m.  The branch has 87 people on the payroll, 31 of them organisers.

The CFMEU is an active and aggressive union.  Its organisers can strike fear into contractors and workers.  However, there is a downside to strong-arm tactics.  The union and officials have incurred numerous court-imposed penalties and large legal expenses.  There are indications the courts are losing patience and awarding a higher level of penalty.

In May 2010 the CFMEU imposed a nine-day picket at the Epping markets site in Melbourne.  The union wanted a contractor, Fulton Hogan, to enter an agreement with it.  Fulton Hogan had reached an agreement with the AWU.  The CFMEU arranged the dumping of a load of crushed rock across the site entrance.  Forty-four gallon [100 litre] drums filled with wood were placed at the gate.  Locks were rendered inoperable.  The union continued the picket despite a Federal Court injunction that it cease.

As a result of legal action taken by the Australian Building and Construction Commission the CFMEU was ordered to pay penalties of $100,000 for contravening the relevant act and $150,000 for contempt of the court injunction.  It was also ordered to pay costs to the ABCC of $190,000 and compensation of $120,000 to affected contractors.  A total hit of $560,000.

In August 2011 the Federal Court ordered the CFMEU to pay Woodside compensation of $1.5m and $500,000 in costs.  The union and its Western Australia assistant secretary Joe McDonald were also ordered to pay Woodside penalties totalling $85,000.

In July 2011 the Federal Court imposed penalties of $150,000 on the CFMEU, McDonald and another official for a five-day strike at a Perth building site in June 2009.  The court also ordered the union pay almost $100,000 in compensation to the contractor.

In July 2010 the Federal Court penalised the CFMEU and two officials $1m for numerous breaches of workplace laws on the Westgate Bridge project in early 2009.

In the Epping markets case the Federal Court observed:  ''The union has not displayed any contrition or remorse for its conduct.  The contraventions are significant.  Substantial penalties for past misconduct have not served to prevent a repetition.''

Members of the union must question whether this is the best way to spend members' funds.

The destructive events in the building industry are well known.  However, a malaise in other industry sectors that has the potential to be more damaging.  There are signs of an insidious reluctance to embrace change in work practices.  The cause is the Fair Work system which was portrayed as a moderate response to Work Choices.  In fact it constituted a significant national economic change.  It changed the structure of agreements, introduced onerous bargaining obligations, expanded unfair dismissal protections, increased access to arbitration, amplified the role of the tribunal, expanded employee anti-discrimination rights, enlarged national safety standards and removed right-of-entry restrictions on union officials.  Access to an individual employment agreement stream was removed and collective agreement making entrenched.

An emboldened union leadership has asserted its power ruthlessly.  Claims are divorced from economic reality.  Massive job losses are occurring in manufacturing.  But the AMWU called Toyota workers out on strike last week.  Toyota's offer of 7 per cent over two years has been rejected.

In June this year building unions in Victoria reached a four-year agreement with the Master Builders Association which provides for wage increases of 27.5 per cent.  Not a single productivity improvement was negotiated.  Bill Oliver, Victorian Secretary of the CFMEU said ''We should be very proud of what we have achieved.''

Melbourne restaurateurs have warned oppressive penalty rates risk the city's world-class dining reputation by making it uneconomic to open on weekends.

These examples are symptomatic of a system gone awry.  Change is needed and soon.  The possible reforms are numerous and are not a return to Work Choices.  They include access to individual agreements supported by a no disadvantage test.  The regulation of independent contracting by commercial rather than industrial law.  Simplified bargaining rules that facilitate wage adjustments related to productivity improvement.  Lawful strike action available only after genuine bargaining has occurred.

On the night of the Fair Work Act's passage, union leaders celebrated with their parliamentary mates in Canberra.  But the glee has turned into despair for many firms and employees.  Change is needed soon to restore innovative and competitive workplaces.


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Wednesday, September 07, 2011

The Government's costly mining mistake

The first mistake the Gillard Government made was on the mining tax.

The Rudd government had come undone by an audacious tax grab and Gillard needed to fix the problem quickly.  In the end the solution was too quick, with the Commonwealth agreeing to refund all state royalty charges.

It is clear that the Commonwealth meant to refund existing and announced royalty charges -- a sensible approach -- but that isn't the actual agreement that it signed with the miners.  So the Australian mining industry faces a tax increase anyway.  The real question is who gets the money?

Economists often debate the so-called incidence of taxes.  By that they mean who actually bears the economic burden of a particular tax.  They seldom ever debate who gets the tax revenue.  That is usually quite obvious.  Even the case of the GST is clear;  it is a Commonwealth tax and the Commonwealth chooses to distribute the money to the states and territories.

The mining tax is going to be very different.  The Commonwealth proposes to tax the miners.  The poor design of the tax, however, allows the states to increase their royalty charges at the expense of the Commonwealth.  As things currently stand, assuming the mining tax passes the Parliament, the Commonwealth imposes a tax and the economic benefit of the tax, i.e. the revenue, accrues to the states.  The miners are no worse off, they have to pay more anyway.

Of course this isn't at all what the Commonwealth had in mind.  The federal budget is in deficit and Treasurer Wayne Swan has promised, come hell or high water, that the budget will be in surplus next financial year.  He needs the money for his own budget.

The argument that increases in royalty charges undermines Tony Abbott's claim that miners are already over-taxed doesn't hold water.  Increases in royalty charges are not new taxes (assuming for argument sake that a royalty charge and tax is the same thing), once the mining tax is in place any increase in royalty is gouging the Commonwealth and not the miners.  Over time the states will increase their own royalties to collect all the revenue that the Commonwealth hopes to earn from the mining tax.

Wayne Swan has reacted angrily to the states increasing their royalties and placing pressure on the federal budget.  He has threatened to take money off the states in areas such as withholding GST payments or infrastructure spending.  But is this really wise?

State government is primarily about providing services.  So nurses, police and teachers are primarily funded from state government budgets.

The single largest item in the federal government budget is welfare.  By defunding state governments the Commonwealth is rebalancing public spending away from the provision of services and towards the provision of welfare.  I suspect the majority of taxpayer-voters would not support that choice.

Arguments that we see about the mining tax in the next while are going to be between the Commonwealth and the states as to who gets the loot, not about whether the tax itself is a good or bad reform.  Of course, that is how the debate will be framed but that isn't the essence of the argument.

The other complicating feature is that the mining tax is yet to pass the Parliament.  Given current uncertainties it may never pass, and the Coalition have promised to repeal it.  In that instance the States will (probably) have increased revenue from the increased royalties.  Both ways the miners get to pay more and the states end up with the loot.  (A slight complicating feature is that the Commonwealth Grants Commission will redistribute the money between the states, but still the Commonwealth may lose out).

This is not what the Commonwealth ever intended.  The mining tax was initially formulated on the run and was poorly planned and poorly executed;  the Gillard iteration was formulated in a panic and the unintended outcome has been to enrich the states at the expense of the Commonwealth.  That is good for the states, but doesn't help the federal budget get back into surplus.


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National curriculum:  Labor's big failure

Less than two months after the Rudd government took power, education minister Julia Gillard announced her national curriculum, and announced it would start in 2011.

Just four subjects, mind you -- English, Maths, Science and History.  The rest were to follow later.

The deadline was missed, and introduction was delayed until 2012.  (Kevin Rudd nevertheless listed the national curriculum as one of his achievements in his farewell speech.)

But the replacement deadline was missed too -- bumped down the track to 2013.  Now last month New South Wales said it would hold the curriculum back until 2014 at the earliest.  And teachers' bodies have urged education ministers across the country to follow NSW's lead.

Three years seems like a short time to enact a four-subject curriculum across the country.  But for it to take six years is a debacle.

Sure, it hasn't got one-tenth the publicity of the Malaysia Solution, or pink batts, or the mining tax and health reform reversals.  Or even GroceryChoice.  But the national curriculum should be one of the Government's most embarrassing failures.

This is not the first national curriculum proposal to flounder.

In 1989 the Commonwealth government (Labor) got together with the states (also mostly Labor) and tried to forge a uniform curriculum.  Education is, of course, a state responsibility.  You can't make a national curriculum without the consent of the states.  But when the states started to turn Coalition, the deal collapsed.

That seems to be happening again.  The Commonwealth's authority to drive curriculum change relies entirely on the acquiescence of the states.  While the new Coalition state governments in Victoria and New South Wales were initially supportive, they are turning hostile.

Perhaps a national curriculum is quixotic.  But for decades it has been an article of faith among bureaucrats and the education establishment that Australia needs a national curriculum.

There are a large number of politicians and academics who seem to believe a policy is not serious unless it is a federal policy, a ''national'' approach is inherently and unquestionably better, and the Commonwealth Government is better placed to make good policy than state governments.  Those beliefs are more ideological than anything else.

No doubt some state curricula are sub-optimal.  But the Commonwealth has a less-than-absolute success rate in policy formation and implementation too.  Simply claiming you want a ''world-class curriculum'' is no guarantee you can design one.  And the slipping implementation of the curriculum does not inspire much hope.

In 2005, the academic Alan Reid argued in a Department of Education research paper previous attempts collapsed largely because they ''failed to develop a rigorous rationale for national curriculum collaboration''.

Indeed, the practical arguments for a national curriculum stretch the bounds of credibility.

Gillard -- and now Peter Garrett -- speaks of the need to provide a consistent education to the 80,000 students who migrate between states each year.

It's an old claim:  in 1968, the federal education minister Malcolm Fraser spoke of the ''very real difficulties faced by children who move from one state to another''.  And it's one which sounds convincing until you realise 80,000 is less than 3 per cent of the entire student body of three million.

Reforming the entire school system to cater for these students is absurd -- even if we grant the doubtful assumption those students struggle terribly to adjust to their adopted state curricula, and that it's a problem the Government must tackle urgently.  (There are probably simpler ways to ease the transition for these few children.)

When the Howard government was considering their own national curriculum, Julie Bishop claimed it was necessary because ''ideologues'' had ''hijacked'' the state curriculum bodies.

This makes even less sense.  It's easier for ideologues to hijack one national curriculum than eight separate ones.  And much more rewarding.

After all, under a national curriculum every single student in Australia will be taught from one song sheet.  The Australian Curriculum Assessment and Reporting Authority speaks about ''shaping the lives of the nation's future citizens'', how the curriculum must teach students to ''work for the common good, in particular sustaining and improving natural and social environments'', and ensure they are ''responsible global and local citizens''.

These are heady sentiments.  The curriculum is explicitly designed not just to teach, but to ''shape''.

So if the curriculum presents a distorted view of, say, the Industrial Revolution (an historical event which profoundly influences our understanding of the contemporary economic order) it matters.  Do markets oppress or liberate?  Is economic progress good?

Or if the curriculum suggests, as this one does, that human rights were given to us by treaty-makers at the United Nations, that strange but suggestive view will be embedded in future generations when they come to consider debates over rights in Australia.

Yet even as its implementation problems pile up, the national curriculum has still not been given the same critical examination as this Government's other policy flops.  That needs to change.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Communications regulation is a dog's breakfast

The way we regulate media and communications is a dog's breakfast.  That judgment has been blindingly obvious for more than a decade now.

But it has now been confirmed by no greater authority than the dog.

A paper by the Australian Communications and Media Authority (ACMA), Broken Concepts, was released on Monday to coincide with the Government's media convergence review.  In it the communications regulator details the complexity and contradictions of laws which regulate everything from phones to emails to subscription television.

For instance:  Australian content requirements apply to television, but not to the television-like services broadcast via the internet.  Subscription TV and free-to-air TV have totally different content standards.  Spam faxes and spam emails and telemarketing are regulated differently.  The universal service obligation seems incongruous in a world where most Australians have mobile phones and many people are going home-phone-free.

It goes on.  In the regulations and regulatory frameworks they studied, ACMA found the ''majority'' were broken or have been severely challenged.

This is not a surprise.  Regulation and technological change just don't go well together.

Telecommunications and broadcasting policy has long been characterised by rent-seeking and paternalism.

Indeed, we got off to a terrible start.  In 1905, the Commonwealth decided to take control of the radiofrequency spectrum with the Wireless Telegraphy Act.  But the Act had been delayed by the Barton government's worries that the new technology would challenge the existing telegraph companies.

For a century, governments have conspired with politically-protected firms to hold back or cripple new technologies at the expense of consumers.

It's that century of regulatory perfidy that has gifted us the inconsistency and confusion of the 23 Acts and 523 pieces of regulation ACMA oversees in 2011.

In 2000, the Productivity Commission described a history of ''quid pro quos'' which ''created a policy framework that is inward-looking, anti-competitive and restrictive.''  And the Howard and Rudd governments only prolonged this sad tale.

Communications regulation is worth cleaning up for its own sake.  Inconsistent regulation distorts investment and consumption.  It impairs innovation.

But it's doubly worth cleaning up considering the pace of technological change will only increase.  Governments will forever have to figure out how new technologies fit in.

The ACMA suggests we reframe our views about communications regulation according to a ''network layers'' model.  This model was developed in the early 2000s by communications academics who took the internet challenge to legacy media seriously.

Communications technologies have traditionally been regulated separately and distinctly -- in ''silos''.  But treating technologies like silos doesn't make sense any more.  The copper wire network is no longer the only way you can make a phone call.  Free to air television isn't the only place you can watch a television show.

Instead of silos, the layers model views all communications networks as consisting of a number of layers, from infrastructure (copper wire, for example, or mobile phone networks) up to content (television programs or phone calls).

ACMA suggests a model with four layers.  There are other options.  The original theorists talked about seven, others talk about five, or three.

But the idea is the same.  All infrastructure should be regulated consistently, no matter what technology that infrastructure is made of.  All content should be regulated consistently, no matter how it is delivered.

The layers model is elegant.  It's probably the only model which will accurately and flexibly describe the communications of the future.

However, ACMA may not be aware the network layers model implies something more than moderate reform.

In a regulatory environment governed by such a model, the communications regulator would probably have nothing to do.  Adopting a layers model would bring radical deregulation.

After all, if a regulator treated internet and free to air exactly the same, how would they enforce Australian content requirements on both?  ACMA would be unable to insist that a certain percentage of all websites were Australian even if they wanted to.  Same for the broadcasting standards and codes of practice -- how could a regulator insist on ''balance'' on the internet?

That's content.  If the Government wanted to regulate infrastructure consistently, would it insist every owner open its network to competitors -- as Telstra's copper lines were treated?  Or would it leave infrastructure to the market -- like mobile phone networks?  The economic logic of infrastructure investment suggests less regulation would be imposed, not more.

Of course, regulation being regulation, the current dog's breakfast has supporters.  Industries have grown up relying on this regulatory mess.  Any change is a threat to the commercial status quo.

And the hysteria we saw from the actors' union after a minor change to the Foreign Actors Certification Scheme earlier this year will be nothing compared to the outcry when the Government concludes, rightly, that Australian content requirements are anachronistic and impossible in a digital world.

Furthermore, as hostilities between News Limited and the Government increase, there's no political appetite for media deregulation.  No matter how obvious or necessary.

But credit for ACMA where it's due.  It's a rare regulator which recommends such radical change.  Especially change which could, if done properly, close that regulator down.

Thursday, September 01, 2011

Union tax plan a recipe that will weigh us down

The ACTU doesn't deliver the full picture on how much we're taxed.

The ACTU's recipe for national taxation reform will merely serve to weigh down our future economic growth prospects.

In research released this week the ACTU has outlined the results of a survey of 1000 people finding that a majority of respondents favour higher tax rates on high-income earners.

On the basis that ''real tax reform is reform that is directed towards satisfying Australians' needs and preferences'', the ACTU uses these survey results to commend to governments a more progressive taxation system.

The idea behind this notion is that an increase in the degree of tax progressivity will generate more revenue to fund government services.  The ACTU suggests that there is significant scope for increasing taxes because Australia is a ''low tax country'' in comparison with its OECD counterparts.

According to data presented by the ACTU, taxation revenue as a proportion of GDP for Australia was 27.1 per cent in 2008-09, the sixth lowest tax to GDP ratio for 33 countries sampled.  By contrast the OECD average of taxation revenue to GDP was 34.8 per cent in the same year.

Such favourable comparisons are often used by interests seeking a greater role for government in economic activity, however they tend to mislead the general public about the true size of Australian government.  Accepting the figures as presented, they do indeed reveal that Australia is a tax-competitive nation state compared with small, distant European nations.

A more accurate reflection of Australian taxation competitiveness is presented, however, when we compare our tax-to-GDP ratio against our East Asian neighbours.

The comparison is less than flattering.  The latest available data shows that Hong Kong has a tax-to-GDP ratio of 13 per cent, while Singapore and Malaysia have shares of taxation revenue to GDP of 14.2 per cent and 15.5 per cent respectively.

The OECD statistics, as presented by the ACTU, tend to obscure Australia's true degree of tax competitiveness since various off budget items are excluded from measures of taxation burden.

Australia imposes a compulsory superannuation scheme requiring employers to contribute to superannuation funds on behalf of their employees, which effectively acts as a tax.  Based on an update of previous estimates, compulsory contributions in 2008-09 were roughly equivalent to 3.4 per cent of GDP lifting the Australian tax burden to 30.5 per cent of GDP.

Governments also impose a range of tax expenditures which reduce the headline tax burden.  Incorporating the $102 billion in tax expenditures reported by the Commonwealth in 2008-09 alone adds about another 8 per cent to the Australian tax-to-GDP ratio, giving an overall figure of 38.5 per cent.  Adding to this the grab-bag of tax expenditures reported by the mainland states, totalling some $13.7 billion in 2008-09, adds another percentage point to the overall taxation revenue to GDP ratio.

Given that federal, state and local budget deficits represent future taxes, it is also necessary to add the 2 per cent of GDP general government fiscal deficit.  Australia now has a tax-to-GDP figure of 41.5 per cent.  When these and other quasi-tax arrangements, such as those affecting the take up of private health insurance, are factored in, it is no longer clear that Australians live the charmed life of low taxation as the ACTU and other groups would have us believe.

The ACTU has dismissed recent episodes of Australian tax reform as being little more than an ''unending series'' of tax cuts.  This is not quite true, as governments engaged in tax swaps that purport to be ''revenue neutral'' in theory but practically deliver more revenues to facilitate increases in public spending.

But taxation burden reductions, wherever they may be found, are desirable in that they deliver benefits for residents and businesses that remain in Australia, and present this country in a more favourable light amongst global investors.

Flatter and lower income tax rates encourage greater workforce participation, including for the benefit of growing sectors of the economy in which labour shortages are said to exist.

Lower taxation also reduces impediments for entrepreneurs to generate the additional economic wealth and, for that matter, job creation that this country needs, especially outside of mining activities.  More generally, flattening and lowering tax scales reduces the economic deadweight losses providing an important basis to enliven economic activity across the board.

Therefore it is a surprise that the peak body of a movement, claiming to represent workers' interests, should oppose tax cuts that would prove so beneficial on numerous fronts.

The Australian economy is presently on its knees due to post-GFC economic stagnation, poor productivity, cost of living pressures, and the impending threat of new mining and carbon taxes.

The sensible resolution to this impasse is through reducing government intervention, with a focus on taxation reductions, and not pursuing the ACTU path toward distortionary progressive taxes that would punish private sector entrepreneurship and hamper productivity improvements.


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Why the West is better than the rest

Civilization:  The West and the Rest
By Niall Ferguson
(Allen Lane, 2011, 402 pages)

In 2009, I established my Foundations of Western Civilisation program to defend and extend Australians' understanding of the influential, historical role of the West in establishing many of the liberties enjoyed by members of our society.  In the preface to the UK edition of his new book, Civilization:  The West and the Rest, Niall Ferguson neatly encapsulates why there was such a gap in the market for me to fill:

For roughly thirty years, young people at Western schools and universities have been given the idea of a liberal education, without the substance of historical knowledge.  They have been taught isolated ''modules'', not narratives, much less chronologies.  They have been trained in the formulaic analysis of document excerpts, not in the key skill of reading widely and fast.  They have been encouraged to feel empathy with imagined Roman centurions or Holocaust victims, not to write essays about why and how their predicaments arose.

Already this year, the value of the program has been highlighted by the extraordinary response of education academic Tony Taylor to my critique of the proposed national curriculum, particularly the history component that Taylor helped write.  Taylor claimed that there was no reason to include the English Civil War in the curriculum, as it was ''arguably just a series of confused and confusing localised squabbles that may have a special significance for UK history, but not for anybody else (unless they like dressing up in period costume)''.  As several writers argued in response to Taylor, few events in world history have had as much lasting significance as the English Civil War.  Much modern debate about the nature of the state and its power can be traced back to 17th century England, where, as Ferguson points out, the two great rival works, Thomas Hobbes' Leviathan and John Locke's Treatises on Government, provided ground-breaking ideas on the subject.

The response to Ferguson's book in Britain shows that a similar program to mine may also be required there.  The thought that Ferguson might be providing advice on their national history curriculum to Cameron government Education Secretary Michael Gove, horrifies the UK education establishment.

Reviewing the book in The Guardian, historian Bernard Porter argued that ''it furnishes an almost perfect illustration of why children need to be taught analytical skills, more than 'big stories' or facts''.  Porter seems to think that Ferguson and Govc may get together and ensure that Ferguson's text becomes the sole element of the syllabus, hardly likely since one of the Ferguson key aims for history students is ''reading widely''.  However, if there is one ''big story'' that requires attention, it is the one Ferguson attempts to address in this book, as he goes about explaining how ''the West shrank the world''.

So what will students in the UK or Australia get from reading Ferguson's book?  They will certainly get one slightly silly gimmick.  As with four of his past five books, this work has a companion television series and perhaps to appeal to that medium, or to capture the attention of the young, Ferguson describes the factors which led to the rise of the West as ''killer apps'' and identifies six of them:

  • Competition
  • Science
  • Property rights
  • Medicine
  • The consumer society
  • The work ethic.

In the words of Porter, Ferguson argues that ''western predominance in the world has lasted 500 years, no less''.  Actually, Ferguson makes clear that for the first part of this period the West was still behind, but he also identifies the early signs that the West was making more rapid progress than the two civilisations, Chinese and Islamic, that had been the most dynamic since the fall of Rome.

Ferguson discusses China in the chapter on ''competition''.  Presenting a long list of Chinese innovations, including the mechanical clock, printing with movable type, paper, the blast furnace and iron bridges, Ferguson also explains how, by the early 15th century, the Chinese had a clear capacity to spread their geo-political dominance via admiral Zheng He's naval fleet, larger than anything assembled in the West until the First World War.  But the death of his imperial sponsor in 1424 saw his voyages stopped.  This was a precursor to the collapse of the Ming dynasty in the 17th century with a decline in population of between 35 and 40 per cent.  Ferguson ascribes the blame primarily to its status as a closed society, which worked for a time, but when something went wrong had no external resources to alleviate a problem.

In contrast, when the West began to explore, there were numerous jurisdictions all competing with each other to see who could better trade with, or better exploit other parts of the world.  While constant fighting within Europe had many negative consequences, it had potential benefits for its expansion -- improved military technology, more efficient taxation and most importantly, no monarch was ever in a position to prohibit all European exploration.

Ferguson argues that scientific superiority was a key reason why Islamic civilisation was able to establish and maintain a caliphate covering such a large area.  The caliphate produced the world's first proper hospitals and universities and made numerous important discoveries.

As late as 1683, the Ottoman army came very close to capturing Vienna.  The fact that it did not was symptomatic of the changing fortunes of the West and the Islamic world.  Just as the Scientific Revolution was gathering pace in Europe, influential Muslim clerics were asserting more and more that the study of science and philosophy were incompatible with the Koran.  They even ruled that printing was incompatible with religion, thus further restricting the opportunity for the dissemination of new ideas.  Ferguson personalises the decline of the Ottomans and the rise of the West, writing ''sultan Osman III presided over a decadent Ottoman Empire, while Frederick the Great enacted reforms that made ... Prussia a byword for military efficiency and administrative rationality''.  Plus, Frederick encouraged science, enacted freedom of religion and decreed that there would be openness to immigrants.

The third chapter, ''property'', looks at why different parts of the New World became more dominant parts of the West than others, largely by contrasting the experience of North and South America.  Ferguson argues that the difference was not democracy per se, but ''in reality, democracy was the capstone of an edifice that had as its foundation the rule of law -- to be precise the sanctity of individual freedom and the security of private property rights, ensured by representative, constitutional government''.  The key was that in North America, a system evolved based on the Lockean principle that an individual should be able to claim and then continue to own property without being subject to arbitrary intervention by government.  This decision on how to allocate land ''would ultimately determine the future leadership of western civilization''.  Even when Latin American countries achieved independence early in the 19th century, the rule of a strong leader took precedence over the rule of law, as Simon Bolivar's Organic Decree of Dictatorship ''made clear there would be no property-owning democracy in a Bolivarian South America, and no rule of law''.  In contrast, not just in the United States, but in Canada, Australia, New Zealand and British Africa, property ownership was widely dispersed, and democracy grew from it.

One must recognise that while the West may have exported many useful things to the Rest they also delivered many diseases with fatal consequences for millions.  This was something of returning a compliment, as eastern-originated disease had been a major killer in Europe in the 14th century.  Ferguson is keen to point out that Europe produced cures as well as sickness.  Work on tropical diseases from the 1880s to 1920s found cures for a number of them, and while a strong motivation was protecting colonists, it also had the potential to help natives.

The chapter on medicine is something of a paean to the medical pioneers who went into the tropics in the late 19th century seeking cures for diseases such as malaria and yellow fever, as he comments ''the bacteriologist, often risking his life to find cures for lethal afflictions, was another kind of imperial hero, as brave in his way as the soldier explorer''.  Ferguson argues that the potential medical benefits to native populations ''were often overlooked by those, like Gandhi, who maintained that the European empires had no redeeming features''.  He makes the further point that the reason life expectancy remains low in much of Africa is that many African communities still prefer to rely on traditional rather than Western medicine.  In the early 20th century, the French were particularly authoritarian in trying to stamp out traditional healing methods and replace them with modern ones and while ''it is easy today to dismiss such aspirations as insufferable Gallic arrogance'', they did extend thousands of lives.

Of course, not all science was benign.  The second half of the 19th century saw the development of the science of eugenics.  Ferguson makes the point that at that time ''racism was not so much a backward-looking reactionary ideology;  the scientifically uneducated embraced it as people today accept the theory of man-made global warming''.  The consequences of the theory arc described in all their gory detail, such as the Germans' belief that, in some cases, complete eradication of tribes was required, which led to events such as the massacre of the Herero people at Hamakari by German General von Trotha in 1904.  The fact that in the first half of the 20th century the racial ideas first applied in the colonies were then applied in Europe was a sign that Western Civilization had the potential to be its own greatest enemy.  Ferguson draws a direct link writing that ''if Auschwitz marked the culmination of state violence against racially defined alien populations, the war against the Herero and Nama was surely the first step in that direction''.

The chapter on consumption notes early on that ''consumer society is so all-pervasive today that it is easy to assume it has always existed ... yet in reality it is one of the more recent innovations that propelled the West ahead of the Rest''.  The first modern economy evolved in Britain, and Ferguson identifies two reasons, dearer labour and abundant coal, as to why the Industrial Revolution happened there first, rather than in other places in north-western Europe.

This is perhaps the most thought-provoking part of the book, with Ferguson getting onto his home turf of economic history.  He also deals with the growth of nationalism and notes the odd paradox that growth of nationalism coincided with a growing conformity of dress in emerging consumer economies.  Clothing plays a big part in this chapter for, as Ferguson argues, ''what people wear matters'' and ''the West's two great economic leaps forward -- the industrial revolution and the consumer society -- were to a huge extent about clothes:  first making them more efficiently and second wearing them more revealingly''.  Hence, he writes at some length about Isaac Singer's new sewing machine, a passage which captures Ferguson's strength as both an historian and a writer.  He recognises the importance of innovation and mechanical progress, but also makes the passage more lively by mentioning that Singer sired ''a total of twenty-four children by five different women'' and pointing out that Gandhi regarded the sewing machine as ''one of the few useful things ever invented''.

This chapter also introduces the first part of the Rest to copy the West -- Japan.  The Japanese were unable to be certain what lay behind Western success and so copied everything from the German army, British navy and American schools, to eating beef, which hitherto had been taboo.  Most importantly, in Ferguson's eyes, Japan adopted Western dress, ''realising what a potent agent of development Western clothes were'', thus unleashing that key driver of early industrialisation, the textile industry.  It was ''a pivotal breakthrough in world history''.

By way of contrast, Ferguson points out that consumerism and the 20th century's two most prominent forms of totalitarianism -- fascism and communism -- seem to have been incompatible.  Hitler was focused on destruction rather than consumption, with consumption of everything from textiles to coffee declining, and comparatively low rates of ownership of private cars.  Then there were the Communists.  Ferguson poses the question as to why the Eastern Bloc did not just allow its citizens as much rock n' roll and jeans as they wanted to overcome the chief grumbles of their young people, but he explains that ''the answer is that the consumer society posed a lethal threat to the Soviet system itself''.  Ferguson devotes a lengthy section to jeans, highlighting the irony of how sixties radicals all wore them, which more than anything else symbolised international consumer homogeneity.

In the final app chapter, Ferguson considers perhaps the most famous theory about why the West prospered -- the Protestant work ethic.  He concludes that Max Weber was right, but for the wrong reason.  The real contributor to economic development was the Protestant encouragement of literacy and printing so individuals could read the Bible.  In particular, Ferguson claims that ''recent surveys of attitudes show that Protestants have unusually high levels of mutual trust, an important pre-condition of efficient credit networks''.  He also explores why religion has continued to flourish in the United States while it declines across Western Europe.  The latter is something of a problem if, like some of the Chinese academics Ferguson quotes, you believe Christianity was one of the West's greatest strengths.

Always problematic for historians is when they try to become prophets as well as interpreters of the past.  The fact that, what Ferguson in his tech talk dubs Western Civilisation 1.0, the earlier version which climaxed in the Roman Empire, declined so quickly, gives him pause to consider whether version 2.0 might be about to head the same way quickly.  There are a number of issues which concern him.  Given his relationship with prominent Islam-critic Ayaan Hirsi Ali, it is no surprise that one of his worries is the rise of militant Islam within the West.  Yet, while he has a point, one must not forget that while large scale immigration to the West of people from former colonies has clearly changed those Western countries, the change there has been small compared to the change wrought on the colonies by the West, and that trend should continue for a while to come.  Perhaps of more pressing concern to the countries of the West is his recognition that where once the citizens of Western countries expected to live within their means, they now expect to get everything on credit.

Whether or not one agrees with all Ferguson's conclusions, one needs to recognise his ability as a writer to make his point in a clever way.  When discussing how the West was more receptive to importing new ideas, he writes:

The English were luckier in their drugs, too;  long habituated to alcohol, they were roused from inebriation in the seventeenth century by American tobacco, Arabic coffee and Chinese tea.  They got the stimulation of the coffee house, part cafe, part stock exchange, part chat-room;  the Chinese ended up with the lethargy of the opium den.

Then when assessing 1970s predictions about the future of the Soviet Union, he notes that the least accurate came from ''clueless academic Sovietologists''.

And one could say the same about the clueless academic historians who seem determined to wilfully misrepresent what Ferguson is saying.  He is not forgetting Islamic mathematics, or Chinese printing, but he is trying to establish why the West, which was clearly behind those civilisations on many criteria in the 15th century, got to be the imperialist, exporting its world view by the 20th century.

The fact that the West had been behind for many centuries clearly rules out any theory that the people of the West were intrinsically better, but some things they did must have made a difference.  Ferguson has made a valiant attempt to identify them.  He may not have provided a definitive answer, but it is a thought-provoking and challenging analysis.  Certainly, reading Civilization will enlighten young (and old) minds far more than trying to overanalyse a couple of obscure historical documents.

Classical liberalism's future

Robust Political Economy:  Classical Liberalism and the Future of Public Policy
By Mark Pennington
(Edward Elgar Pub, 2011, 302 pages)

It is a curious fact that one of the most compelling new works in classical liberalism, Mark Pennington's Robust Political Economy:  Classical Liberalism and the Future of Public Policy, has perhaps the most obscure title in the canon of freedom literature.

Nonetheless, Mark Pennington has written perhaps the most important book in classical liberal political economy in at least two decades.  It deserves to be read widely, and for those who do, a richly rewarding intellectual experience will surely be in the offing.

The phrase ''robust political economy'' is derived from the efforts of economists, particularly Peter Boettke at George Mason University in Virginia, who sought to explain economic phenomena even when relaxing some crucial underlying assumptions concerning human agency.

As any student or informed observer of economics would appreciate, neoclassical economic theory rests on the idea that economic agents of all stripes are rationally omniscient.

This implies that all information about market conditions, including current relative prices attached to goods and services, and changes to relative prices if circumstances change, are perfectly known to those who trade for mutual benefit.

Economists have also assumed that individuals are self-interested, in that they seek to optimise net benefits from the market transactions they engage in.  As Adam Smith noted, the interplay of the expression of self-interest by sellers and buyers, as if led by an invisible hand, leads to a continuous improvement in material living standards.

The neoclassical economists believe that everyone is omniscient and self-interested except, well, for politicians and government bureaucrats who are as omniscient as the traders in the village square, but are imbued with a benevolence that can only be expected of those taxing, spending and regulating in the community's interest.

As any intellectual refugee from Economics 101 might appreciate, public sector benevolence is a central aspect of the neoclassical narrative that suggests only governments can rectify inefficient resource allocations resulting from the (curiously growing) catalogue of market failures.

While neoclassical economics might be spoon-fed to undergraduate economic students and public servants on policy management short courses, it has come under intense challenge from a variety of schools of economic thought.

The Austrian school of economics has long criticised the neoclassical assumption of human omniscience, as exemplified by Ludwig von Mises and Friedrich Hayek's famous exposition of the ''knowledge problem''.

The relaxation of the omniscient agent assumption applies as much to the impossibility of centralised economic planning by government as it does to the marvel of decentralised plan coordination, guided by prices, for individuals.

It took the emergence of the public choice school of economics from the late 1940s, which culminated in James Buchanan winning the Nobel Prize in Economics in 1986, to finally break the pretence of benevolent public sector agency as a guiding star for economic analysis.

In their particular brand of ''politics without romance'', public choice theorists describe a world of self-interested politicians, budget-maximising bureaucrats, rent-seeking special interests and rationally ignorant voters in rehabilitating the Humean imperative for checks and balances to constrain discretionary political conduct.

Whereas Austrian economics and public choice once rode on parallel train tracks, Boettke and other researchers in classical liberal political economy saw opportunities for their theories to provide better explanatory power if the Austrian critique of omniscience and the public choice critique of benevolence were merged.

And so emerged robust political economy, a theory grounded on testing the ability, or ''robustness'', of alternative institutions to deliver desirable outcomes in the face of deviations from ideal assumptions such as agent omniscience and benevolence.

In the opening pages of Robust Political Economy, Mark Pennington lays the groundwork for the analysis that follows.  By contrast to the rhetorical flourishes of the political left that the modern world has acquiesced to the ''neoliberal'' agenda, the scope of the state in economic and social life has been left largely intact with new fronts opening that favour larger government in the areas of welfare provision, international economic development and the environment.

For Pennington, the objective in response to these challenges is no less than to restate the case in favour of the minimal state, and this can only be satisfactorily achieved by looking squarely at human imperfections.  Which institutions will work best if human cognition is bounded by the knowledge problem, and may people possess incentives to exercise self-interested behaviour?

The answer to this question, according to Pennington, is ''that the institutions of private or severally owned property, a market economy, and a limited government confined to the resolution of disputes between private parties, are best placed to meet the requirements of a robust regime''.

While not even hardcore libertarians would contend that decentralised markets and their supporting institutions can guarantee perfectibility in a world of bounded cognition and self-interested motivations, Pennington shows that classical liberalism provides the institutional robustness needed for individuals to experiment and learn of ways to improve their circumstances without being violated through the arbitrary application of coercion by authorities.

In simple terms, the freedoms afforded under a liberal minimal state trump the cold hard directives meted out under socialism.

Robust Political Economy provides the great service of critiquing the theoretical fashions of Rawlsian social justice and Habermasian deliberative democracy that are steadfastly worn by those who subscribe to anti-capitalist sentiments.

In response to the works of Habermas and his fellow travellers, who claim that markets are an alien construct that deny a voice to the populace at large, Pennington helpfully suggests that ''classical liberalism conceives of markets and other 'spontaneous orders' as complex communicative networks that facilitate the exchange of knowledge, ideas and expectations.''

Within this, the exit mechanism available to participants within open markets and federal states is seen as a robust method for those who want to exercise dissent from majority opinion without impinging upon the right of the majority to express theirs.

A thorough critique of neoclassical economics, particularly Joseph Stiglitz's homilies on information failures, is also presented for good measure, emphasising that economics is at its most relevant in addressing real world problems when it drops its unrealism concerning human agency.

Another appealing feature of Pennington's work is that it is not limited to a theoretical treatise on robust political economy, as important as this might be.  It presents an ambitious critique of some of the great political controversies of our time that is invaluable to the general reader and policy protagonist alike.

Robust Political Economy prosecutes a detailed case for a transformation of welfare emphasising the centrality of economic growth to lift the standard of living for all strata within a society.

However, acknowledging that some people may not be able to participate in a market economy due to loss of employment, old age, illness or disability, Pennington argues for a revival of voluntary collective action rather than a bloated tax-financed welfare state to ameliorate the strains of financial hardship.

In other words, Mark Pennington revives the notion of private welfare, including through mutual aid associations, that time forgot both in Australia and in other places such as the United Kingdom.

Next, Robust Political Economy chronicles the debate over how best to promote economic development around the world without the need to channel foreign aid through burgeoning, middle class bureaucracies such as the United Nations or the World Bank.

A focus on economic growth, facilitated through the emergence of market friendly institutions protecting rights to the acquisition and disposal of private property, is seen as a key strategy that is robust to the knowledge and incentive problems that have long complicated this area of public policy.

In perhaps one of the more interesting chapters, Pennington asks whether the classical liberal minimal state concept or a ''green leviathan'' would prove to be more effective in responding to local environmental degradation or even global warming.

Free markets, developed with the aid of exclusion technologies and the codification of private property rights for resources of an open access state, such as fisheries, may prove to be effective in discouraging their overuse.  This was a key conclusion from the work of Elinor Ostrom, who won the Nobel Prize in Economics only two years ago, and is given its due credence in Robust Political Economy.

Of intense interest to Australian readers will be Pennington's musings about how to deal with the ''dilemma of climate change''.

The merits of global governance arrangements are discounted, in part because of the extensive monitoring costs associated with ensuring that climate change agreement signatories keep to their end of the emissions pollution reduction bargain.  The knowledge problem rears its head once again.

Presuming that climate change is a real problem requiring management, Pennington suggests that ''a not unreasonable case can be made in favour of decentralised adaptation to climate change'' with remedial actions by individuals, companies and countries to adapt to problems as they arise.

While Robust Political Economy provides considerable focus on these three domains of public policy, there are many other important policy lessons available for those who take the effort to pore carefully through its 302 pages.

For example, the discussion on pages 34 and 35 of the book on the regulatory failings that precipitated the Global Financial Crisis is simply outstanding and should be carefully noted by policymakers who responded to ineffectual regulation and financial market dislocations with a damaging Keynesian inspired manipulation of aggregate demand.

In summation, the considerable buzz in classical liberal circles that has greeted the publication of Robust Political Economy is undoubtedly deserved.

Blame big government

Great Crises of capitalism
By Peter Jonson
(Connor Court, 2011, 319 pages)

It has taken a few years for the global financial crisis that led to Kevin Rudd's essay in The Monthly, blaming neoliberal institutions, to be properly analysed and considered.

In his book, The Great Crises of Capitalism, economist Dr Peter Jonson takes his stab at providing a rich and historically accurate perspective of how this crash fits in with capitalism's long running history of boom and bust, from the Dutch tulip bubble, to the GFC in 2009.

Chapter by chapter Jonson goes through the namesakes of his book, describing the foundations for booms, and then how capitalism always catches up with them, leading to busts.

Importantly, Jonson doesn't fall prey to simply dismiss boom periods and retractions as mere cycles, but highlights that each event is caused by particular circumstances, often created by underlying faults of the deceptively entrepreneurial or worse, government regulation.

The final few chapters are where Jonson provides his own insight and analysis of what lessons can be learned from history.

After all, the uncertainty of capitalism and its dynamic affects are what makes it a desirable system for economic order and growth.

He argues ''despite its obvious imperfections, capitalism is by far the best way to order the world's economic affairs'', but argues against a Rothbardian or Randian libertarian vision of capitalism with virtually no regulation.  Instead he argues ''sensible regulations ... are needed if capitalism is to survive and prosper''.

Despite the vagaries of such statements, there would be few free market capitalists who argue that there is no role for some regulation to save capitalism from itself and the exploitative entrepreneurial behaviour of a small group of people;  at least because in their misbehaviour, the impact is not just against themselves and those they exploit, but also in the confidence that others have in capitalism's future.

Without wanting to over-simplify his commentary, he argues for a classical liberal framework for the international marketplace where limited government provides economic and contractual certainty.  Railing against excessive and impulsive financial and economic regulation, he outlines that governments cannot remove uncertainty.

Similarly, without a level of sensible regulation that limits a capitalists' complete exploitation, it cannot deliver on one of its core benefits over the failures of other economic systems.  One of capitalism's continual benefits is its capacity to allow for economic mobility irrespective of the circumstances any human being is born into.  Economic mobility has been at the heart of capitalism's strengths and acceptance amongst the general public, even though the staircase can go in different directions.

Jonson also recognises that government has a role to play in society and identifies its capacity to design incentives that influence the behaviour of individuals, from research and development finance, to philanthropy which provides a public and commercial good.  The challenge that he partially addresses in designing governance and limitations is where lines are drawn for government influence and power to cease.

But amongst his organically conservative approach to economics, he also proposes ideas that are a radical departure from mainstream thinking resulting from global economic integration.  While not historically radical, proposing a transition to a form of ''base money control'', from individual nations setting interest rates, is a challenge to established currencies based on fiat money and state sovereignty.

Jonson argues that a serious crisis may be necessary to get such a decision to be taken seriously, but the European experiment of establishing a regional currency hasn't delivered the benefits expected and is likely to hinder the advancement of his idea.

Finally, Jonson doesn't wholly concede the point that periods of economic downturn are undesirable.  Of course downturns aren't beneficial and should be avoided, but they follow periods of spectacular growth and risk, as time series data of economic growth shows, and while some individuals take the pain, most of the benefits remain in place.

For example, while the technology boom of the late 1990s and early 2000s meant many speculative ventures collapsed, computer technology and innovation took an incredible leap that remained and was absorbed within the companies that survived.

In essence, speculative and uncertain growth and collapse are different sides of the same coin and remains the consequence of the incredible benefits of the other.  In comparison the alternative is wholly undesirable stagnation.

Relax baby!

Selfish Reasons To Have More Kids:  Why Being a Great Parent is Less Work and More Fun Than You Think
By Bryan Caplan
(Basic Books, 2011, 228 pages)

This book is targeted at a very specific demographic.  It is not aimed at someone like me who already has children.  Neither is it aimed at those who do not want children at all -- the author, Bryan Caplan, is a father of three, and happily accepts that there are some people who have no desire to be parents.  No, he is specifically targeting the types most of us have encountered -- middle class parents with one or two children who say that, in theory, they would love to have another one but, in practice, they cannot, because they cannot afford it financially, or time-wise.  Which begs the question, how on earth did previous generations raise much larger families in far less auspicious circumstances?

Of course, what modern parents really mean is not actually that they cannot afford it, but they do not wish to jeopardise the lifestyle of the existing members of the family, particularly the existing children.  They do not wish to move to a cheaper suburb to reduce the size of the mortgage, pass on a private school education, or give up holidays in premium locations.  While there may be good reasons why parents want to live in a particular suburb, mix with fellow private school parents and enjoy holidays in expensive locations, what Caplan says is, do not kid yourself that you are doing these things for the long-term benefit of your one or two existing children.  His key claim is that ''parenting barely affects a child's prospects''.

The evidence for this is adoption and twin research, which Caplan, a professor of economics at George Mason University, has studied extensively.  With the important caveat that we are talking about what might be considered broadly normal first world families, Caplan presents the work of numerous behavioural geneticists from many countries, which shows that, while nurture might have some effects during childhood, once children reach adulthood they will revert to the path their nature (genes) pre-ordained for them in matters such as financial success, health, happiness and values.  Twins, who are separated at birth and are adopted out, end up closer to each other on a range of criteria than either one does to his or her adoptive family.

The only outcome where separately adopted twins are closer to the children of their adopting families than to their biological twin is in appreciation of their parents.  So the moral of all the research is don't force your child into ballet lessons, or private tutoring, but do be nice to them.

There is some evidence that early born children suffer a minor diminution in outcomes through the birth of subsequent siblings, but children three and four are such big winners, purely by virtue of being born, that this dwarfs any minor loss to one and two in terms of outcomes, before one factors in any pleasure one and two might get from having the younger siblings.

Perhaps even more striking than the behavioural genetics is the sociological data.  The evidence shows that since the 1960s, not only have fathers more than doubled the time they spend looking after children, but mothers have increased time spent on this activity by thirty per cent.  While stay-at-home mothers still spend more time with their children than contemporary working mothers, the current working mother actually spends more time directly supervising children than her mother or grandmother spent looking after her.

''Ah ha,'' I hear the sceptic say, but while it was safe for me as a child to happily roam the neighbourhood in the sixties or seventies, we now live in far more dangerous times.  Caplan does an excellent demolition job on this nonsense.  Children have never been safer, with the annual mortality rate of 1-4 year olds in the US in 1950 having declined from 139 per 100,000 to 29 per 100,000 in 2005.  While most of that reduction is from better medicine and fewer accidents, he also points out that the rate of violent crime in the United States has halved since 1973.  Most irrational of all is the fear of child kidnapping.  Truly random child kidnappings make global news stories, precisely because they are so rare.

Spotting irrationality is a key feature of Caplan's work.  Caplan is best known for The Myth of the Rational Voter:  Why Democracies Choose Bad Policies (2007), a book named the best political book of the year by The New York Times.  When it comes to children, the main irrationality comes from over-emphasising the short-term pain, such as lots of sleepless nights, but not giving enough account to the long-term benefits, such as the increased likelihood of being a grandparent.  As he writes, ''today's typical parents artificially inflate the price of kids, needlessly worry, and neglect the long-run benefits of larger families''.

The media have presented a contrast between Caplan's work and that of Amy Chua, who earlier this year created something of a sensation with her book, The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, which described how through a draconian parenting regime she turned her daughter into a Harvard student and concert pianist.  As a recent feature in The Australian commented, ''everybody argued about the sanity of her methods, but no-one argued that her methods did not work''.  Caplan did.  He argued that with a pair of Yale law professors as parents, Chua's daughters would have succeeded on genetics alone, without the extra priming.

However, while that may hold true for success in careers as an adult, one area which Caplan does gloss over is that in many fields of endeavour you do have to start young.  Your child is not going to become a concert pianist, or tennis professional, if they take it up at 18.  It might be your genetic make-up which determines whether you stick with it, and deliver on that other well-known modern theory about success -- Malcolm Gladwell's observation that 10,000 hours of practice is the key to success -- but children need parental encouragement to begin the process.

The other thing which Caplan touches on, but perhaps does not consider enough, is sibling difference.  Same parents, same nurture, but very different outcomes.  Others who have written in the field have ascribed some differences to birth order, an idea which Caplan does not discuss.

While Selfish Reasons to Have More Kids can be read as not much more than a parenting self-help book, urging frazzled parents to just lighten up, the book does at times have some serious things to say about public policy.  As well as the selfish reasons to have more kids, Caplan demonstrates quite clearly that there are also strong altruistic reasons for doing so.  Caplan is quite explicit that your extra kids, provided they are not homicidal maniacs or inveterate bludgers, will be net contributors to society.

Caplan also does not believe that governments should be stopping the use of new technologies to enable reproduction.  He finds particularly illogical the argument that one of the threats of the technology is authoritarian governments using if for nefarious purposes.  As he writes, ''If government abuse is the real danger, the smart line to draw in the sand isn't government prohibition.  It's reproductive freedom.  Insist that parents, not governments, decide if, when and how to make babies''.  And if technology still cannot deliver children, he suggests prospective parents consider adoption from the third world, because while adopting a first world baby will not alter its life outcomes all that much, adopting one irom the third world should deliver a massively improved life outcome to that individual.

In Australia in the past year, we have seen journalist Jacinta Tynan get pilloried for saying having an infant was not too hard, while the likes of businessman Dick Smith and Labor MP Kelvin Thomson continue to want a third of us to disappear.  Hopefully, plenty of people will read Caplan and realise that there are plenty of good reasons, both selfish and altruistic, to ignore the naysayers.

Overlooked atrocities

Bloodlands:  Europe Between Hitler and Stalin
By Timothy Snyder
(Basic Books, 2010,524 pages)

Does the world really need another book on the mass killings and crimes of the Second World War?  After reading Timothy Snyder's new book Bloodlands:  Europe Between Hitler and Stalin the answer is a definite yes.  This powerful new book argues that there is more to understanding the mass killings of World War II than just the murder of Jews at concentration camps such as Auschwitz.  This engaging and well-researched piece of scholarship offers us a survey of the killing fields where more than 14 million people lost their lives as victims of both the Nazi and Soviet regimes between 1933 and 1945.  As Snyder states;  ''the image of the German concentration camps as the worst element of National Socialism is an illusion, a dark mirage over an unknown desert.''

Despite the countless investigations into Nazi mass killings and Soviet atrocities during World War II, Snyder feels that a central element in explaining such events has been underexplored.  This concerns the lives and deaths of the victims of mass killing who were not soldiers, or even concentration camp victims, but instead innocent and unarmed civilians in lands occupied first by the Soviets, then by the Nazis and again by the Soviets.  They died as a result of the deliberate Ukrainian famines, the Great Terror of 1937-38 against the educated classes, and the mobile German hit-squads hunting in league with local militias.  It is these lands that Snyder defines as the Bloodlands:  more or less central and eastern Poland, St. Petersburg, Belarus, Ukraine and the Baltic states.

By focusing on human geography rather than political geography, Snyder seeks ro replace the political uses of history with a humanistic account of the terrible sufferings that occurred there.  Bloodlands brings together Soviet and Nazi history, Jewish and non-Jewish history.  It is the story of the passage of 14 million people from life to death at the hands of two brutal authoritarian regimes.

Bloodlands offers us a chilling account of what happens when people lose control of their own destiny at the hands of tyrannical and ruthless government bureaucracies.  Snyder's diligent research offers us hundreds of emotionally wrenching individual snapshots of suffering, such as the story of the Polish children who begged their German captors not to unnecessarily cane them before being loaded onto the mobile death trucks which were waiting to take them to their graves.  Despite the massive numbers of dead, Snyder offers us not an abstraction, but a collection of personal stories, lives led, and then lost, under the assault of tyranny.  ''People were alike in dying and in death, but each of them was different until that final moment.''

One of Snyder's key intentions in the book is to shatter what he calls the ''myths'' and ''overtheorising'' that has taken hold of World War II scholarship.  He wants us to understand the millions more deaths in the Bloodlands alongside those at Auschwitz.  He wants us to forget about comparing whether Stalin was worse than Hitler.  He wants us in the West to encounter the victims between the two regimes so that these myths will not distract us from understanding the lives and ultimately the deaths of a forgotten people.

On the whole he succeeds.  For example, unlike the suffering of Jews in films such as Schindler's List, most people who arrived at Auschwitz were never interred as labourers.  Instead, they were sent immediately on arrival to the gas chambers.  It is because of the harrowing survival stories of some survivors that the Holocaust registers as the apex of evil.  Yet the majority of Auschwitz victims never had a chance to tell their stories.  Neither did the half a million Poles and Ukrainians killed during Stalin's Great Terror.  Nor the three million Ukrainian peasants starved during Stalin's drive for collectivisation.

For Snyder, the preeminence of the Holocaust overshadows even more horrific forms of conceived mass killing -- the destruction of Poland and the Soviet Union as states, and the extermination of Slavs who had the gall to live on German agricultural ''lebensraum''.  They were not casualties of war as such, but in fact victims of their own regimes who sought to master history in pursuit of utopia.

The deadliest part of the Soviet Union was not the gulags of Siberia but its non-Russian periphery.  The well-known siege of Stalingrad starved thousands but was less deadly than the shootings and gassings in the Ukraine carried out by the SS Einsatzgruppen.  The concentration camps (as distinct from death facilities) are not where most of the victims of Nazism and Stalinism died.  Most people who laboured in the concentration camps and the Gulag actually survived.  Such ''misunderstandings regarding the sites and methods of mass killing prevent us from perceiving the horror of the twentieth century''.  None of the mass shooting sites and none of the gassing facilities were liberated by Americans.

These histories were consigned to obscurity as the Iron Curtain fell over Europe.  As the fourteen Soviet states began to reorganise themselves after the Cold War, they called upon their own national histories of victimhood for inspiration and strength.  These however were political stories.  Less well explained are the stories of the lives of the anonymous dead.  Bloodlands takes us on that journey.

Snyder successfully attempts to overcome the notion that the Nazis were efficient and industrious killers from the outset of the war.  It was only when the Germans could not transport Jews and other undesirables to the east following the unsuccessful Operation Barbarossa that German priorities changed definitively from military victory and transportation to racial extermination.  Industrial killing is too ''clean'' an image of mass killing, he says.  The giant crematoria did not arrive at Auschwitz until 1943 and most of its victims died in 1944.  In the Bloodlands the methods were more primitive.  Half of the 14 million victims died because of starvation.  The next most likely cause of death was shooting, then gassing.  Jews in the Holocaust were about as likely to be shot as gassed.  It was not just the SS but also the Wehrmacht and local militias that hunted down civilians.  Stalin's purges before the war were far more destructive than the well-known Kristallnacht pogrom of 1938 in Germany.

Since World War II there has been a growing and controversial trend to incorporate other viewpoints in ''the history'' of nations.  These include women's histories, indigenous histories and other ''histories from below'' in the words of the famous Brirish historian EP Thomson.  Historians have proudly proclaimed themselves to be ''revisionists'', whilst others have lambasted attempts to ''rewrite history''.

''Subaltern histories'' often use oral sources and other ''fragments'' of documented information from victims to piece together an appreciation of life in a given time.  Often labelled ''selective'' by critics, memories of victimhood have not had the same esteem amongst scholars as more traditional sources such as archives and contemporaneous written accounts.  In selecting which memories to include in a work of history, writers such as Snyder choose what becomes history based on what best fits their line of argument or what is most convenient for their narrative.

The influential American literary theorist Hayden White even wrote that ''if it is not written, it is not history''.  To overcome such objections Bloodlands invites us to imagine that each and every victim of Nazi and Soviet atrocity had a personal story, regardless of whether it has been put to paper.  Rather than 680,000 people being killed in the Great Terror, Snyder refers instead to the 681,690 victims plus one.  Bloodlands harrowingly takes us through just a few hundred.  The identification of victimhood for each nation is consequently one of the central themes of the book, although Snyder becomes explicit on this point far too late in the book to give us sufficient time for reflection.

The well-documented historical memories and powerful activism of the Jewish community have helped place the Holocaust at the forefront of people's minds as the epitome of evil in the 20th century.

Recognition of suffering has also been a topical issue here in Australia ever since the 1997 Bringing them Home report into the separation of Aboriginal children from their mothers.  Scholars such as Raymond Gaita and Inga Clendinnen have argued that the dispossession of Aborigines should be considered genocide for a number of reasons, among them the recognition that would come from comparison with what is considered the ultimate genocide, the Holocaust of the Jews.

Critics of the ''genocide project'' have questioned however, whether such classifications would actually improve our understanding of what took place.  History seeks to explain the past, whilst politics uses history in the pursuit of power.  Some scholars have argued that the crimes of the Nazis were so horrendous that they should ''stand outside of history'' and historical comparison.

Bloodlands argues this is inappropriate given another ten million people died at the hands of Nazism and Stalinism and have had fewer advocates to tell their story.  More people died brutally at the hands of Stalin than did those cut down by Zyklon-B in the gas chambers, yer such stories do not register as clearly in the collective memory of the Second World War for us in the West.

Bloodlands successfully helps us recognise that if Hitler's war against the Soviets had gone to plan, some thirty million more lives would have been cut short.  This is the major achievement of this book.  For the political purpose of reconstituting nations such as Poland, Ukraine and the Baltic states after both the Second World War and the Cold War, the ledger of horror has been kept alive in the fragmented accounts and stories of the victims.

Credit must go to Snyder for overcoming the limitations of individual ethnic or national histories in telling the stories of a region devastated by two horrendous alternative visions of the future.