Gladwell Misses the Mark
The other day, a friend of mine sent me a link to Malcom Gladwell’s most recent article, entitled “The Risk Pool“. I thought it fell short of Gladwell’s usual quality, and sent to my friend the e-mail that I’ve included below the fold. I’m not the first to get around to criticizing this article, though, so if you want to see the back-and-forth:
- “Worst Malcom Gladwell article ever?”
- Malcom Gladwell’s first response
- Gladwell’s second response
- Jane Galt’s critique
- Gladwell’s first response to Jane Galt
- Gladwell’s final comments
Having read through the back-and-forth, I’m a little disappointed in Gladwell. The basic premise of his article– drawing a parallel between the macro-level phenomenon of dependency ratios and the micro-level failures of a few firms– doesn’t hold up, and he seems either to not understand why or not want to admit having written something so bad. To me, the other disputes are a side issue. That, in combination with the contempt he seems to hold for anyone who happens to critique his work through a weblog, takes my opinion of him down a notch. Of course, that’s only going from “huge fan” to “big fan, with a couple reservations”.
If anything, the existence of such a fundamental error in an article written by a talented and intelligent journalist underscores for me the difficulty of writing about economics. Most economists can’t write well, and most journalists, even the smart ones, don’t have enough economic training to be able to write accurately about it. The subject is a minefield, and there are a lot of people who would like to lead a journalist astray– astray in a minefield is a bad place to be. For that matter, a minefield is also a bad place to be drawing inaccurate parallels…
My own thoughts on the piece follow.I think we both love Gladwell for the same reason– he has an amazing ability to pull together related concepts that haven’t been examined together before and use them to shed new light on a narrative. In this case, though, I think he’s fallen into a bit of a trap. There are similarities between the effects of demographic bubbles on national output growth and thus on social welfare obligations and those of firm output growth on pension obligations, but though they’re similar, they’re not at all the same. The causal relationship is really quite different in the two situations…
In the case of national output growth, it’s true by definition that:
Total Nation Output = Average Hourly Output Per Worker (a measure of productivity) * Average Number of Hours Worked * Number of Workers
Productivity tends to growth with time, and there are a number of things we can do to affect productivity levels, but we only have limited control over it. Likewise, it’s difficult to significantly increase the average number of hours worked, particularly as large increases tend to negatively impact average hourly productivity. Thus, in the case of a demographic bubble, the effects of the bubble will also be seen in total national output. There won’t necessarily be a decrease in total output as the bubble workers age and retire, as much of their impact will be swallowed by productivity growth, but output growth will almost certainly slow significantly. In any situation, though, demographics are a constraint on national output. Holding all else equal, fewer workers means less output.
This is, of course, the “problem” with Social Security. Social Security was designed so that the current generation of workers pays for the current generation of retirees. Moreover, it’s indexed to wages, not inflation– so current retirees don’t just receive benefits that are adjusted for changes in the price level, they also receive much of the benefit of increased productivity, as well. This is great for the recipients as long as it stays solvent, but it makes the funding problem a little trickier because we can’t just count on productivity growth making benefits relatively cheap to pay. That’s why Social Security set up a trust fund to cover the demographic bubble– a system similar to one used by pensions, except fully funded (key point). When that awful year 2040 or whatever rolls around and the trust fund is bankrupt, that shouldn’t be a surprise, because all the people who funded it and whose retirement it was helping to support will be dead. No need for the trust fund, as it got us past the bubble. So long as the population grows on average over any given 80-year span (so far not a problem), bubbles can be dealt with easily.
Gladwell doesn’t address Social Security except to offer it as a solution to the pension situation, though, and instead relates national output and demographics to issues with private company pensions through the idea of dependency ratios. The problem, of course, is that dependency ratios aren’t particularly relevant to private firms. In the following passage, he makes his critical mistake:
“Bethlehem, just shy of its hundredth birthday, declared bankruptcy. It had twelve thousand active employees and ninety thousand retirees and their spouses drawing benefits. It had reached what might be a record-setting dependency ratio of 7.5 pensioners for every worker.“What happened to Bethlehem, of course, is what happened throughout American industry in the postwar period. Technology led to great advances in productivity, so that when the bulge of workers hired in the middle of the century retired and began drawing pensions, there was no one replacing them in the workforce. General Motors today makes more cars and trucks than it did in the early nineteen-sixties, but it does so with about a third of the employees. In 1962, G.M. had four hundred and sixty-four thousand U.S. employees and was paying benefits to forty thousand retirees and their spouses, for a dependency ratio of one pensioner to 11.6 employees. Last year, it had a hundred and forty-one thousand workers and paid benefits to four hundred and fifty-three thousand retirees, for a dependency ratio of 3.2 to 1.”
Pulling this passage out, the error should be obvious: the retirement of former employees isn’t paid for by the number of current workers, it’s paid for by their output. If workers today are three times as productive as workers 50 years ago, and the demand for cars is the same, one-third the number of workers are necessary to produce the same level of output– and pay for the same level of retirement [note: I am ignoring elasticity and capital costs, etc]. Adding more workers wouldn’t increase output, it would only add costs and reduce the company’s ability to pay pension costs. Thus, with the case of private firms, national demographics is not a relevant concern.
If Gladwell wants to argue that demographics were a relevant concern, it would be possible to do so, because there’s a particular signature to that sort of problem. Namely, we’d see employers bidding up wages in an effort to attract workers from the shrinking labor pool. However, it would be incumbent upon him to explain why it affected General Motors and Bethlehem Steel, but somehow didn’t have any impact on their successful competitors.
The only reason for having a paragraph break right here is that I wanted to give you the opportunity to say in your head, “Hey, wait a minute, but all the American auto and steel manufacturers are having these problems. Doesn’t that undermine your argument?” This would give me the chance to throw out a laugh that was at once haughty and carefree and say, “But they’re losing to Japanese companies, and Japan is actually suffering the effects of a more pronounced demographic ‘bubble’ than the United States.” That’s right– Japan’s bubble is bigger.
So, oddly enough, Gladwell identifies the problem with private pensions as being an issue of demographics, when it is not, and has prescribed as a solution more broadly-based social welfare systems, which are more vulnerable to the problem that he incorrectly diagnoses. The truly strange part is that his essay is littered with the evidence necessary to draw the correct conclusions:
“But Big Steel didn’t get bigger. It got smaller. Imports began to take a larger and larger share of the American steel market. The growing use of aluminum, concrete, and plastic cut deeply into the demand for steel. And the steelmaking process changed. Instead of laboriously making steel from scratch, with coke and iron ore, factories increasingly just melted down scrap metal. The open-hearth furnace was replaced with the basic oxygen furnace, which could make the same amount of steel in about a tenth of the time. Steelmakers switched to continuous casting, which meant that you skipped the ingot phase altogether and poured your steel products directly out of the furnace.”
The problem with the US steel industry wasn’t an issue of demographics, it was the simple fact that it had massive fixed costs in the form of investments in outdated technology that became a liability when the then-infant Japanese steel industry began competing using newer, more flexible methods of production and business methods to match. The same thing has occurred in the US auto industry, which, as a byproduct of the interplay between technology and labor contracts, has so far been unable to create flexible methods of production to respond to shifts in consumer demand.
Likewise, the problem with pensions isn’t a complicated issue of dependency ratios and Debsian Socialists. The problem is twofold: one, companies do fold, and that risk isn’t appropriately addressed by most pension systems; two, for pensions to work over the long run, they have to be fully funded.
Just my thoughts.
