Jude Wanniski died last week, at 69, of a heart attack. He
was best known to the public for his 1978 book, The Way
the World Works, which helped build support for the election of Ronald
Reagan in 1980. Among economic policy veterans, he was better
remembered for his "Two Santa Claus" theory.
So it is more than a little ironic that the Two Santa Theory
should have been demolished by a storm called Katrina the
same week that its creator died.
Wanniski explained in a memo in 1999, "We of course should
be indebted to Art Laffer for all time for his Curve....
But as the primary political theoretician of the supply-side
camp, I began arguing the 'Two Santa Claus Theory' in 1974.
If the Democrats are going to play Santa Claus by promoting
more spending, the Republicans can never beat them by promoting
less spending. They have to promise tax cuts in order
to grow the economy --
not to 'starve the government of revenue,' which is Milton
Friedman's rationale."
"Let's shoot Santa Claus!" says Friedman [in this characterization
of his view]. Wanniski replies, "Let's not."
It would be absurd for a grown man to speak in such terms
if it weren't for the unmistakable grain of truth in them
-- and for the long line of politicians who have taken Wanniski's
ideas seriously. Here is how Cato Institute President Ed Crane
described their history in the prescient memo to which Wanniski
was responding, "The GOP: Slouching towards Irrelevance":
"When [U.S. Representatives] Jack Kemp, New Gingrich, Vin
Weber, Connie Mack and the rest discovered Jude Wanniski and
Art Laffer [in the 1970s], they thought they'd died and gone
to heaven. In supply-side economics they found a philosophy
that gave them a free pass out of the debate over the proper
role of government. Just cut taxes and grow the economy: government
will shrink as a percentage of GDP, even if you don't cut
spending. That's why you rarely, if ever, heard Kemp
or Gingrich call for spending cuts, much less the elimination
of programs and departments."
Last week, the Two Santa Theory suffered the final blow in
a slow-motion collision with reality so dramatic as to constitute
a natural experiment. It has unfolded over four years.
First, George W. Bush, who battled his way into office on
the eve of a recession, cut taxes to stimulate the economy.
If that had been the end of it, he might have been a hero.
But instead he embraced to Second Santa Theory and rammed
still more tax cuts through an all-too-willing Congress in
the name of stimulating growth (chiefly benefiting the richest
one percent!). Enormous deficits are in prospect, but there
are as yet few signs of robust growth.
Then the president gambled on a high-stakes war in Iraq,
which not only cost a lot of money, it didn't work.
Never mind the conventional wisdom that a nation should go
into a war with money in its pockets, said Bush. War
had nothing to do with Santa Claus. War was a matter
of principle.
(Thanks to Bush economic adviser Lawrence Lindsey and Yale
University's William Nordhaus we had some pre-war estimates
of the likely cost of the Iraq expedition. Lindsey estimated
the upper bound of $200 billion and got fired for his trouble.
Nordhaus estimated the costs from $100 billion in the best
case to nearly $2 trillion ($1,900 billion) in the worst.
By the end of September, military cost will have reached $186
billion, according to David
Francis, economics columnist of the Christian Science
Monitor, compared to $66 billion for Afghanistan. By the same
accounting, tThe military cost of the Korean War was $361
billion.)
Meanwhile, Bush played a little traditional Santa, sheparding
through Congress the addition of an expensive pharmaceutical
benefit to the national retirement medical system. Once re-elected,
however, he announced ambitious plans to privatize the Social
Security system, properly categorized as Shooting Santa in
the Wanniski schema. .
Now Hurricane Katrina has laid low a famous American city,
and not just any American city, but New Orleans, whose very
history is a stark reminder of the slave trade that is America's
original sin. Rebuilding New Orleans will be nothing
like rebuilding a few high-rent city blocks in downtown Manhattan.
There are nearly 15,000 refugees in Houston's Astrodome, with
no place to go, and another 94,000 in refugee shelters scattered
across nine southern states, according to the Washington Post.
The traditional way to deal with disaster on this scale is
to appoint a relief commissioner -- Herbert Hoover as founder
of the Commission for Relief in Belgium at the outset of World
War I, Secretary of State George C. Marshall as the overseer
of the Marshall Plan at the conclusion of World War II.
But in an astonishing bit of news, the Boston Herald's Brett
Arends reported
Saturday that the Federal official in charge of the New Orleans
rescue -- the ill-at-ease gent at his side whom Bush embraced
as "Brownie" during their Friday tour -- had been
"fired from his last private sector job overseeing horse
shows." Former estate lawyer Mike Brown had been
recruited to the Federal Emergency Management Agency by director
Joseph Allbaugh, his college roommate, after Brown was sacked
by the International Arabian Horse Association, just before
Allbaugh quit in 2003 to work on the Bush re-election campaign.
So not only is the economy not growing satisfactorily. Not
only is the nation less safe than if Bush hadn't bungled the
war in Iraq. But now the government is broke and can't afford
to fulfill its legitimate and essential functions in
a time of disaster. If that's not a conclusive result for
a president who has been given the benefit of every doubt,
what is?
Bush, along with the rest of the Republican executive leadership
that first tasted power in the post-Watergate autumn of 1974,
Cheney, Rumsfeld and the rest, will be swept out of office
at the end of 2008. Likewise, the "Two Santa Claus Theory,"
once and for all. The recipe for economic growth will
remain the one that Adam Smith offered some 250 years ago
-- "peace, low taxes, and a tolerable administration of justice."
* * *
Like most crackpots, Jude Wanniski went off on a tangent
from real ideas. He fell in with a couple of University of
Chicago dropouts, Robert Mundell and Arthur Laffer, in 1971,
at a momentous time.
In The Way the World Works, he describes Mundell as "the modern [Leon] Walras, a general equilibrium
economist in a world dominated by partial equilibrium economists"
-- by whom he especially meant, without naming him, University
of Chicago professor Milton Friedman. In fact, a far-reaching
revolution in general equilibrium methods (which is what Wanniski
meant when he spoke of the mysterious "Mundell-Laffer hypothisis")
really was sweeping technical economics in the early 1970s, made
possible by developments in modern computing.
But it was Chicago's Robert Lucas, not Mundell, who displaced
Friedman from his position of leadership in the pantheon of
technical economists. He was joined there in short order by
Ronald Coase, James Buchanan and a raft of others. By that
time, however, universities had dropped out of Wanniski's
story altogether. He doesn't so much as mention, not even
in his endnotes, Mundell's manifesto of ten years before,
Man and Economics, a far more substantial book than his own.
But then, Mundell, too, had all but dropped out of economics
by 1978, walking out of Chicago to the University of Waterloo
in his native Ontario, then accepting a sinecure at Columbia
University. He returned in the late 1990s to accept
a Nobel Prize for the work he had done in the 1950s. Meanwhile,
leadership of the "supply-side" movement shifted to Robert
Bartley and The Wall Street Journal's
editorial page.
With the publication of The Way the World Works, Wanniski became the latest in a long line of self-proclaimed
political economists who derogated mainstream views. His immediate
predecessor probably was Eliot
Janeway (the subject of a very interesting off-speed book
by his son Michael C. Janeway, The Fall of the House
of Roosevelt: Brokers of Ideas and Power from FDR to LBJ).
The elder Janeway, in turn, lionized Sir
Norman Angell, whose 1910 critique of imperialism, The
Great Illusion, eventually sold over two million copies in twenty-five
languages, won him the Nobel Peace Prize, and gave rise to
a theory popularly called "Norman Angellism."
Before Angell there was Henry George.
An even better way is to understand Wanniski, though, is
as the product of a particular place and time -- the over-ripe,
slightly out-of-control America of the 1970s. Indeed, he had
most in common with another journalist who reacted to the
circumstances in a similar way, namely the late Hunter Thompson,
author of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
In certain respects, the two men were almost a matched pair.
Thompson was born in 1937, Wanniski in 1936. Both spent formative
years writing for the same newspaper, The National Observer,
an ill-fated general interest weekly published for most of
a decade by Dow Jones. Both were subsequently launched into
orbit by more influential organs of opinion -- Thompson by
Rolling Stone and Wanniski
by the WSJ editorial page. Both were absorbed by the recent
American phenomenon that was Las Vegas. Both favored exotic
dress. (For his first day on the job as Washington columnist
for the National Observer, Wanniski was reported to have shown
up driving a silver convertible, wearing a gold coat and mirror
sunglasses, accompanied by a Las Vegas show girl.) Both were
engaging men, loved their families and had large circles of
loyal friends.
Each man strayed far from the path of conventional journalism
that a new adjective had to be coined to describe the variant
that he practiced, a brand name that became common parlance
after a time. Thompson's specialty was gonzo journalism. Wanniski
invented supply-side economics. The terms meant roughly
the same thing: over the top. The difference is that in politics,
Hunter Thompson never went farther than Duke, the smooth-talking
outlaw based on him in the Doonesbury comic strip.
Wanniski, equally raffish in his own way, put in motion the
forces that are wrecking the Republican Party.
* * *
Last week, I credited MIT's Olivier Blanchard with co-authorship
of an interesting paper on the possibility that a high social
rate of return may account for Europes's more generous vacations.
Blanchard has written to good effect on the work/leisure tradeoff,
but not in this particular case. The real co-author of "Why
So Different?" is Harvard chairman Alberto Alesina.