Archive for the 'Thomas Schelling' Category

A Tale of Two Syntheses

I recently finished reading a slender, but weighty, collection of essays, Microfoundtions Reconsidered: The Relationship of Micro and Macroeconomics in Historical Perspective, edited by Pedro Duarte and Gilberto Lima; it contains in addition to a brief introductory essay by the editors, and contributions by Kevin Hoover, Robert Leonard, Wade Hands, Phil Mirowski, Michel De Vroey, and Pedro Duarte. The volume is both informative and stimulating, helping me to crystalize ideas about which I have been ruminating and writing for a long time, but especially in some of my more recent posts (e.g., here, here, and here) and my recent paper “Hayek, Hicks, Radner and Four Equilibrium Concepts.”

Hoover’s essay provides a historical account of the microfoundations, making clear that the search for microfoundations long preceded the Lucasian microfoundations movement of the 1970s and 1980s that would revolutionize macroeconomics in the late 1980s and early 1990s. I have been writing about the differences between varieties of microfoundations for quite a while (here and here), and Hoover provides valuable detail about early discussions of microfoundations and about their relationship to the now regnant Lucasian microfoundations dogma. But for my purposes here, Hoover’s key contribution is his deconstruction of the concept of microfoundations, showing that the idea of microfoundations depends crucially on the notion that agents in a macroeconomic model be explicit optimizers, meaning that they maximize an explicit function subject to explicit constraints.

What Hoover clarifies is vacuity of the Lucasian optimization dogma. Until Lucas, optimization by agents had been merely a necessary condition for a model to be microfounded. But there was also another condition: that the optimizing choices of agents be mutually consistent. Establishing that the optimizing choices of agents are mutually consistent is not necessarily easy or even possible, so often the consistency of optimizing plans can only be suggested by some sort of heuristic argument. But Lucas and his cohorts, followed by their acolytes, unable to explain, even informally or heuristically, how the optimizing choices of individual agents are rendered mutually consistent, instead resorted to question-begging and question-dodging techniques to avoid addressing the consistency issue, of which one — the most egregious, but not the only — is the representative agent. In so doing, Lucas et al. transformed the optimization problem from the coordination of multiple independent choices into the optimal plan of a single decision maker. Heckuva job!

The second essay by Robert Leonard, though not directly addressing the question of microfoundations, helps clarify and underscore the misrepresentation perpetrated by the Lucasian microfoundational dogma in disregarding and evading the need to describe a mechanism whereby the optimal choices of individual agents are, or could be, reconciled. Leonard focuses on a particular economist, Oskar Morgenstern, who began his career in Vienna as a not untypical adherent of the Austrian school of economics, a member of the Mises seminar and successor of F. A. Hayek as director of the Austrian Institute for Business Cycle Research upon Hayek’s 1931 departure to take a position at the London School of Economics. However, Morgenstern soon began to question the economic orthodoxy of neoclassical economic theory and its emphasis on the tendency of economic forces to reach a state of equilibrium.

In his famous early critique of the foundations of equilibrium theory, Morgenstern tried to show that the concept of perfect foresight, upon which, he alleged, the concept of equilibrium rests, is incoherent. To do so, Morgenstern used the example of the Holmes-Moriarity interaction in which Holmes and Moriarty are caught in a dilemma in which neither can predict whether the other will get off or stay on the train on which they are both passengers, because the optimal choice of each depends on the choice of the other. The unresolvable conflict between Holmes and Moriarty, in Morgenstern’s view, showed that the incoherence of the idea of perfect foresight.

As his disillusionment with orthodox economic theory deepened, Morgenstern became increasingly interested in the potential of mathematics to serve as a tool of economic analysis. Through his acquaintance with the mathematician Karl Menger, the son of Carl Menger, founder of the Austrian School of economics. Morgenstern became close to Menger’s student, Abraham Wald, a pure mathematician of exceptional ability, who, to support himself, was working on statistical and mathematical problems for the Austrian Institute for Business Cycle Resarch, and tutoring Morgenstern in mathematics and its applications to economic theory. Wald, himself, went on to make seminal contributions to mathematical economics and statistical analysis.

Moregenstern also became acquainted with another student of Menger, John von Neumnn, with an interest in applying advanced mathematics to economic theory. Von Neumann and Morgenstern would later collaborate in writing The Theory of Games and Economic Behavior, as a result of which Morgenstern came to reconsider his early view of the Holmes-Moriarty paradox inasmuch as it could be shown that an equilibrium solution of their interaction could be found if payoffs to their joint choices were specified, thereby enabling Holmes and Moriarty to choose optimal probablistic strategies.

I don’t think that the game-theoretic solution to the Holmes Moriarty game is as straightforward as Morgenstern eventually agreed, but the critical point in the microfoundations discussion is that the mathematical solution to the Holmes-Moriarty paradox acknowledges the necessity for the choices made by two or more agents in an economic or game-theoretic equilibrium to be reconciled – i.e., rendered mutually consistent — in equilibrium. Under Lucasian microfoundations dogma, the problem is either annihilated by positing an optimizing representative agent having no need to coordinate his decision with other agents (I leave the question who, in the Holmes-Moriarty interaction, is the representative agent as an exercise for the reader) or it is assumed away by positing the existence of a magical equilibrium with no explanation of how the mutually consistent choices are arrived at.

The third essay (“The Rise and Fall of Walrasian Economics: The Keynes Effect”) by Wade Hands considers the first of the two syntheses – the neoclassical synthesis — that are alluded to in the title of this post. Hands gives a learned account of the mutually reinforcing co-development of Walrasian general equilibrium theory and Keynesian economics in the 25 years or so following World War II. Although Hands agrees that there is no necessary connection between Walrasian GE theory and Keynesian theory, he argues that there was enough common ground between Keynesians and Walrasians, as famously explained by Hicks in summarizing Keynesian theory by way of his IS-LM model, to allow the two disparate research programs to nourish each other in a kind of symbiotic relationship as the two research programs came to dominate postwar economics.

The task for Keynesian macroeconomists following the lead of Samuelson, Solow and Modigliani at MIT, Alvin Hansen at Harvard and James Tobin at Yale was to elaborate the Hicksian IS-LM approach by embedding it in a more general Walrasian framework. In so doing, they helped to shape a research agenda for Walrasian general-equilibrium theorists working out the details of the newly developed Arrow-Debreu model, deriving conditions for the uniqueness and stability of the equilibrium of that model. The neoclassical synthesis followed from those efforts, achieving an uneasy reconciliation between Walrasian general equilibrium theory and Keynesian theory. It received its most complete articulation in the impressive treatise of Don Patinkin which attempted to derive or at least evaluate key Keyensian propositions in the context of a full general equilibrium model. At an even higher level of theoretical sophistication, the 1971 summation of general equilibrium theory by Arrow and Hahn, gave disproportionate attention to Keynesian ideas which were presented and analyzed using the tools of state-of-the art Walrasian analysis.

Hands sums up the coexistence of Walrasian and Keynesian ideas in the Arrow-Hahn volume as follows:

Arrow and Hahn’s General Competitive Analysis – the canonical summary of the literature – dedicated far more pages to stability than to any other topic. The book had fourteen chapters (and a number of mathematical appendices); there was one chapter on consumer choice, one chapter on production theory, and one chapter on existence [of equilibrium], but there were three chapters on stability analysis, (two on the traditional tatonnement and one on alternative ways of modeling general equilibrium dynamics). Add to this the fact that there was an important chapter on “The Keynesian Model’; and it becomes clear how important stability analysis and its connection to Keynesian economics was for Walrasian microeconomics during this period. The purpose of this section has been to show that that would not have been the case if the Walrasian economics of the day had not been a product of co-evolution with Keynesian economic theory. (p. 108)

What seems most unfortunate about the neoclassical synthesis is that it elevated and reinforced the least relevant and least fruitful features of both the Walrasian and the Keynesian research programs. The Hicksian IS-LM setup abstracted from the dynamic and forward-looking aspects of Keynesian theory, modeling a static one-period model, not easily deployed as a tool of dynamic analysis. Walrasian GE analysis, which, following the pathbreaking GE existence proofs of Arrow and Debreu, then proceeded to a disappointing search for the conditions for a unique and stable general equilibrium.

It was Paul Samuelson who, building on Hicks’s pioneering foray into stability analysis, argued that the stability question could be answered by investigating whether a system of Lyapounov differential equations could describe market price adjustments as functions of market excess demands that would converge on an equilibrium price vector. But Samuelson’s approach to establishing stability required the mechanism of a fictional tatonnement process. Even with that unsatisfactory assumption, the stability results were disappointing.

Although for Walrasian theorists the results hardly repaid the effort expended, for those Keynesians who interpreted Keynes as an instability theorist, the weak Walrasian stability results might have been viewed as encouraging. But that was not any easy route to take either, because Keynes had also argued that a persistent unemployment equilibrium might be the norm.

It’s also hard to understand how the stability of equilibrium in an imaginary tatonnement process could ever have been considered relevant to the operation of an actual economy in real time – a leap of faith almost as extraordinary as imagining an economy represented by a single agent. Any conventional comparative-statics exercise – the bread and butter of microeconomic analysis – involves comparing two equilibria, corresponding to a specified parametric change in the conditions of the economy. The comparison presumes that, starting from an equilibrium position, the parametric change leads from an initial to a new equilibrium. If the economy isn’t stable, a disturbance causing an economy to depart from an initial equilibrium need not result in an adjustment to a new equilibrium comparable to the old one.

If conventional comparative statics hinges on an implicit stability assumption, it’s hard to see how a stability analysis of tatonnement has any bearing on the comparative-statics routinely relied upon by economists. No actual economy ever adjusts to a parametric change by way of tatonnement. Whether a parametric change displacing an economy from its equilibrium time path would lead the economy toward another equilibrium time path is another interesting and relevant question, but it’s difficult to see what insight would be gained by proving the stability of equilibrium under a tatonnement process.

Moreover, there is a distinct question about the endogenous stability of an economy: are there endogenous tendencies within an economy that lead it away from its equilibrium time path. But questions of endogenous stability can only be posed in a dynamic, rather than a static, model. While extending the Walrasian model to include an infinity of time periods, Arrow and Debreu telescoped determination of the intertemporal-equilibrium price vector into a preliminary time period before time, production, exchange and consumption begin. So, even in the formally intertemporal Arrow-Debreu model, the equilibrium price vector, once determined, is fixed and not subject to revision. Standard stability analysis was concerned with the response over time to changing circumstances only insofar as changes are foreseen at time zero, before time begins, so that they can be and are taken fully into account when the equilibrium price vector is determined.

Though not entirely uninteresting, the intertemporal analysis had little relevance to the stability of an actual economy operating in real time. Thus, neither the standard Keyensian (IS-LM) model nor the standard Walrasian Arrow-Debreu model provided an intertemporal framework within which to address the dynamic stability that Keynes (and contemporaries like Hayek, Myrdal, Lindahl and Hicks) had developed in the 1930s. In particular, Hicks’s analytical device of temporary equilibrium might have facilitated such an analysis. But, having introduced his IS-LM model two years before publishing his temporary equilibrium analysis in Value and Capital, Hicks concentrated his attention primarily on Keynesian analysis and did not return to the temporary equilibrium model until 1965 in Capital and Growth. And it was IS-LM that became, for a generation or two, the preferred analytical framework for macroeconomic analysis, while temproary equilibrium remained overlooked until the 1970s just as the neoclassical synthesis started coming apart.

The fourth essay by Phil Mirowski investigates the role of the Cowles Commission, based at the University of Chicago from 1939 to 1955, in undermining Keynesian macroeconomics. While Hands argues that Walrasians and Keynesians came together in a non-hostile spirit of tacit cooperation, Mirowski believes that owing to their Walrasian sympathies, the Cowles Committee had an implicit anti-Keynesian orientation and was therefore at best unsympathetic if not overtly hostile to Keynesian theorizing, which was incompatible the Walrasian optimization paradigm endorsed by the Cowles economists. (Another layer of unexplored complexity is the tension between the Walrasianism of the Cowles economists and the Marshallianism of the Chicago School economists, especially Knight and Friedman, which made Chicago an inhospitable home for the Cowles Commission and led to its eventual departure to Yale.)

Whatever differences, both the Mirowski and the Hands essays support the conclusion that the uneasy relationship between Walrasianism and Keynesianism was inherently problematic and unltimately unsustainable. But to me the tragedy is that before the fall, in the 1950s and 1960s, when the neoclassical synthesis bestrode economics like a colossus, the static orientation of both the Walrasian and the Keynesian research programs combined to distract economists from a more promising research program. Such a program, instead of treating expectations either as parametric constants or as merely adaptive, based on an assumed distributed lag function, might have considered whether expectations could perform a potentially equilibrating role in a general equilibrium model.

The equilibrating role of expectations, though implicit in various contributions by Hayek, Myrdal, Lindahl, Irving Fisher, and even Keynes, is contingent so that equilibrium is not inevitable, only a possibility. Instead, the introduction of expectations as an equilibrating variable did not occur until the mid-1970s when Robert Lucas, Tom Sargent and Neil Wallace, borrowing from John Muth’s work in applied microeconomics, introduced the idea of rational expectations into macroeconomics. But in introducing rational expectations, Lucas et al. made rational expectations not the condition of a contingent equilibrium but an indisputable postulate guaranteeing the realization of equilibrium without offering any theoretical account of a mechanism whereby the rationality of expectations is achieved.

The fifth essay by Michel DeVroey (“Microfoundations: a decisive dividing line between Keynesian and new classical macroeconomics?”) is a philosophically sophisticated analysis of Lucasian microfoundations methodological principles. DeVroey begins by crediting Lucas with the revolution in macroeconomics that displaced a Keynesian orthodoxy already discredited in the eyes of many economists after its failure to account for simultaneously rising inflation and unemployment.

The apparent theoretical disorder characterizing the Keynesian orthodoxy and its Monetarist opposition left a void for Lucas to fill by providing a seemingly rigorous microfounded alternative to the confused state of macroeconomics. And microfoundations became the methodological weapon by which Lucas and his associates and followers imposed an iron discipline on the unruly community of macroeconomists. “In Lucas’s eyes,” DeVroey aptly writes,“ the mere intention to produce a theory of involuntary unemployment constitutes an infringement of the equilibrium discipline.” Showing that his description of Lucas is hardly overstated, DeVroey quotes from the famous 1978 joint declaration of war issued by Lucas and Sargent against Keynesian macroeconomics:

After freeing himself of the straightjacket (or discipline) imposed by the classical postulates, Keynes described a model in which rules of thumb, such as the consumption function and liquidity preference schedule, took the place of decision functions that a classical economist would insist be derived from the theory of choice. And rather than require that wages and prices be determined by the postulate that markets clear – which for the labor market seemed patently contradicted by the severity of business depressions – Keynes took as an unexamined postulate that money wages are sticky, meaning that they are set at a level or by a process that could be taken as uninfluenced by the macroeconomic forces he proposed to analyze.

Echoing Keynes’s famous description of the sway of Ricardian doctrines over England in the nineteenth century, DeVroey remarks that the microfoundations requirement “conquered macroeconomics as quickly and thoroughly as the Holy Inquisition conquered Spain,” noting, even more tellingly, that the conquest was achieved without providing any justification. Ricardo had, at least, provided a substantive analysis that could be debated; Lucas offered only an undisputable methodological imperative about the sole acceptable mode of macroeconomic reasoning. Just as optimization is a necessary component of the equilibrium discipline that had to be ruthlessly imposed on pain of excommunication from the macroeconomic community, so, too, did the correlate principle of market-clearing. To deviate from the market-clearing postulate was ipso facto evidence of an impure and heretical state of mind. DeVroey further quotes from the war declaration of Lucas and Sargent.

Cleared markets is simply a principle, not verifiable by direct observation, which may or may not be useful in constructing successful hypotheses about the behavior of these [time] series.

What was only implicit in the war declaration became evident later after right-thinking was enforced, and woe unto him that dared deviate from the right way of thinking.

But, as DeVroey skillfully shows, what is most remarkable is that, having declared market clearing an indisputable methodological principle, Lucas, contrary to his own demand for theoretical discipline, used the market-clearing postulate to free himself from the very equilibrium discipline he claimed to be imposing. How did the market-clearing postulate liberate Lucas from equilibrium discipline? To show how the sleight-of-hand was accomplished, DeVroey, in an argument parallel to that of Hoover in chapter one and that suggested by Leonard in chapter two, contrasts Lucas’s conception of microfoundations with a different microfoundations conception espoused by Hayek and Patinkin. Unlike Lucas, Hayek and Patinkin recognized that the optimization of individual economic agents is conditional on the optimization of other agents. Lucas assumes that if all agents optimize, then their individual optimization ensures that a social optimum is achieved, the whole being the sum of its parts. But that assumption ignores that the choices made interacting agents are themelves interdependent.

To capture the distinction between independent and interdependent optimization, DeVroey distinguishes between optimal plans and optimal behavior. Behavior is optimal only if an optimal plan can be executed. All agents can optimize individually in making their plans, but the optimality of their behavior depends on their capacity to carry those plans out. And the capacity of each to carry out his plan is contingent on the optimal choices of all other agents.

Optimizing plans refers to agents’ intentions before the opening of trading, the solution to the choice-theoretical problem with which they are faced. Optimizing behavior refers to what is observable after trading has started. Thus optimal behavior implies that the optimal plan has been realized. . . . [O]ptmizing plans and optimizing behavior need to be logically separated – there is a difference between finding a solution to a choice problem and implementing the solution. In contrast, whenever optimizing behavior is the sole concept used, the possibility of there being a difference between them is discarded by definition. This is the standpoint takenby Lucas and Sargent. Once it is adopted, it becomes misleading to claim . . .that the microfoundations requirement is based on two criteria, optimizing behavior and market clearing. A single criterion is needed, and it is irrelevant whether this is called generalized optimizing behavior or market clearing. (De Vroey, p. 176)

Each agent is free to optimize his plan, but no agent can execute his optimal plan unless the plan coincides with the complementary plans of other agents. So, the execution of an optimal plan is not within the unilateral control of an agent formulating his own plan. One can readily assume that agents optimize their plans, but one cannot just assume that those plans can be executed as planned. The optimality of interdependent plans is not self-evident; it is a proposition that must be demonstrated. Assuming that agents optimize, Lucas simply asserts that, because agents optimize, markets must clear.

That is a remarkable non-sequitur. And from that non-sequitur, Lucas jumps to a further non-sequitur: that an optimizing representative agent is all that’s required for a macroeconomic model. The logical straightjacket (or discipline) of demonstrating that interdependent optimal plans are consistent is thus discarded (or trampled upon). Lucas’s insistence on a market-clearing principle turns out to be subterfuge by which the pretense of its upholding conceals its violation in practice.

My own view is that the assumption that agents formulate optimizing plans cannot be maintained without further analysis unless the agents are operating in isolation. If the agents interacting with each other, the assumption that they optimize requires a theory of their interaction. If the focus is on equilibrium interactions, then one can have a theory of equilibrium, but then the possibility of non-equilibrium states must also be acknowledged.

That is what John Nash did in developing his equilibrium theory of positive-sum games. He defined conditions for the existence of equilibrium, but he offered no theory of how equilibrium is achieved. Lacking such a theory, he acknowledged that non-equilibrium solutions might occur, e.g., in some variant of the Holmes-Moriarty game. To simply assert that because interdependent agents try to optimize, they must, as a matter of principle, succeed in optimizing is to engage in question-begging on a truly grand scale. To insist, as a matter of methodological principle, that everyone else must also engage in question-begging on equally grand scale is what I have previously called methodological arrogance, though an even harsher description might be appropriate.

In the sixth essay (“Not Going Away: Microfoundations in the making of a new consensus in macroeconomics”), Pedro Duarte considers the current state of apparent macroeconomic consensus in the wake of the sweeping triumph of the Lucasian micorfoundtions methodological imperative. In its current state, mainstream macroeconomists from a variety of backgrounds have reconciled themselves and adjusted to the methodological absolutism Lucas and his associates and followers have imposed on macroeconomic theorizing. Leading proponents of the current consensus are pleased to announce, in unseemly self-satisfaction, that macroeconomics is now – but presumably not previously – “firmly grounded in the principles of economic [presumably neoclassical] theory.” But the underlying conception of neoclassical economic theory motivating such a statement is almost laughably narrow, and, as I have just shown, strictly false even if, for argument’s sake, that narrow conception is accepted.

Duarte provides an informative historical account of the process whereby most mainstream Keynesians and former old-line Monetarists, who had, in fact, adopted much of the underlying Keynesian theoretical framework themselves, became reconciled to the non-negotiable methodological microfoundational demands upon which Lucas and his New Classical followers and Real-Business-Cycle fellow-travelers insisted. While Lucas was willing to tolerate differences of opinion about the importance of monetary factors in accounting for business-cycle fluctuations in real output and employment, and even willing to countenance a role for countercyclical monetary policy, such differences of opinion could be tolerated only if they could be derived from an acceptable microfounded model in which the agent(s) form rational expectations. If New Keynesians were able to produce results rationalizing countercyclical policies in such microfounded models with rational expectations, Lucas was satisfied. Presumably, Lucas felt the price of conceding the theoretical legitimacy of countercyclical policy was worth paying in order to achieve methodological hegemony over macroeconomic theory.

And no doubt, for Lucas, the price was worth paying, because it led to what Marvin Goodfriend and Robert King called the New Neoclassical Synthesis in their 1997 article ushering in the new era of good feelings, a synthesis based on “the systematic application of intertemporal optimization and rational expectations” while embodying “the insights of monetarists . . . regarding the theory and practice of monetary policy.”

While the first synthesis brought about a convergence of sorts between the disparate Walrasian and Keynesian theoretical frameworks, the convergence proved unstable because the inherent theoretical weaknesses of both paradigms were unable to withstand criticisms of the theoretical apparatus and of the policy recommendations emerging from that synthesis, particularly an inability to provide a straightforward analysis of inflation when it became a serious policy problem in the late 1960s and 1970s. But neither the Keynesian nor the Walrasian paradigms were developing in a way that addressed the points of most serious weakness.

On the Keynesian side, the defects included the static nature of the workhorse IS-LM model, the absence of a market for real capital and of a market for endogenous money. On the Walrasian side, the defects were the lack of any theory of actual price determination or of dynamic adjustment. The Hicksian temporary equilibrium paradigm might have provided a viable way forward, and for a very different kind of synthesis, but not even Hicks himself realized the potential of his own creation.

While the first synthesis was a product of convenience and misplaced optimism, the second synthesis is a product of methodological hubris and misplaced complacency derived from an elementary misunderstanding of the distinction between optimization by a single agent and the simultaneous optimization of two or more independent, yet interdependent, agents. The equilibrium of each is the result of the equilibrium of all, and a theory of optimization involving two or more agents requires a theory of how two or more interdependent agents can optimize simultaneously. The New neoclassical synthesis rests on the demand for a macroeconomic theory of individual optimization that refuses even to ask, let along provide an answer to, the question whether the optimization that it demands is actually achieved in practice or what happens if it is not. This is not a synthesis that will last, or that deserves to. And the sooner it collapses, the better off macroeconomics will be.

What the answer is I don’t know, but if I had to offer a suggestion, the one offered by my teacher Axel Leijonhufvud towards the end of his great book, written more than half a century ago, strikes me as not bad at all:

One cannot assume that what went wrong was simply that Keynes slipped up here and there in his adaptation of standard tool, and that consequently, if we go back and tinker a little more with the Marshallian toolbox his purposes will be realized. What is required, I believe, is a systematic investigation, form the standpoint of the information problems stressed in this study, of what elements of the static theory of resource allocation can without further ado be utilized in the analysis of dynamic and historical systems. This, of course, would be merely a first-step: the gap yawns very wide between the systematic and rigorous modern analysis of the stability of “featureless,” pure exchange systems and Keynes’ inspired sketch of the income-constrained process in a monetary-exchange-cum-production system. But even for such a first step, the prescription cannot be to “go back to Keynes.” If one must retrace some steps of past developments in order to get on the right track—and that is probably advisable—my own preference is to go back to Hayek. Hayek’s Gestalt-conception of what happens during business cycles, it has been generally agreed, was much less sound than Keynes’. As an unhappy consequence, his far superior work on the fundamentals of the problem has not received the attention it deserves. (p. 401)

I agree with all that, but would also recommend Roy Radner’s development of an alternative to the Arrow-Debreu version of Walrasian general equilibrium theory that can accommodate Hicksian temporary equilibrium, and Hawtrey’s important contributions to our understanding of monetary theory and the role and potential instability of endogenous bank money. On top of that, Franklin Fisher in his important work, The Disequilibrium Foundations of Equilibrium Economics, has given us further valuable guidance in how to improve the current sorry state of macroeconomics.

 

The Equilibrium of Each Is the Result of the Equilibrium of All, or, the Rational Expectation of Each is the Result of the Rational Expectation of All

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post whose title (“The Idleness of Each Is the Result of the Idleness of All”) was taken from the marvelous remark of the great, but sadly forgotten, Cambridge economist Frederick Lavington’s book The Trade Cycle. Lavington was born two years after Ralph Hawtrey and two years before John Maynard Keynes. The brilliant insight expressed so eloquently by Lavington is that the inability of some those unemployed to find employment may not be the result of a voluntary decision made by an individual worker any more than the inability of a driver stuck in a traffic jam to drive at the speed he wants to drive at is a voluntary decision. The circumstances in which an unemployed worker finds himself may be such that he or she has no practical alternative other than to remain unemployed.

In this post I merely want to express the same idea from two different vantage points. In any economic model, the equilibrium decision of any agent in the model is conditional on a corresponding set of equilibrium decisions taken by all other agents in the model. Unless all other agents are making optimal choices, the equilibrium (optimal) choice of any individual agent is neither feasible nor optimal, because the optimality of any decision is conditional on the decisions taken by all other agents. Only if the optimal decisions of each are mutually consistent are they individually optimal. (Individual optimality does not necessarily result in overall optimality owing to interdependencies (aka externalities) among the individuals). My ability to buy as much as I want to, and to sell as much as I want to, at market-clearing prices is contingent on everyone else being able to buy and sell as much as I and they want to at those same prices.

Now let’s take the argument a step further. Suppose the equilibrium decisions involve making purchases and sales in both the present and the future, according to current expectations of what future conditions will be like. If you are running a business, how much inputs you buy today to turn into output to be sold tomorrow will depend on the price at which you expect to be able to sell the output produced tomorrow. If decisions to purchase and sell today depend not only on current prices but also on expected future prices, then your optimal decisions now about how much to buy and sell now will depend on your expectations of buying and selling prices in the future. For an equilibrium in which everyone can execute his or her plans (as originally formulated) to exist, each person must have rational expectations about what future prices will be, and such rational expectations are possible only when those expectations are mutually consistent. In game-theoretical terms, a Nash equilibrium obtains only when all the individual expectations on which decisions are conditional converge.

Here is how Tom Schelling explained the idea of rational – i.e., convergent – expectations in a classic discussion of cooperative games.

One may or may not agree with any particular hypothesis as to how a bargainer’s expectations are formed either in the bargaining process or before it and either by the bargaining itself or by other forces. But it does seem clear that the outcome of a bargaining process is to be described most immediately, most straightforwardly, and most empirically, in terms of some phenomenon of stable and convergent expectations. Whether one agrees explicitly to a bargain, or agrees tacitly, or accepts by default, he must if he has his wits about him, expect that he could do no better and recognize that the other party must reciprocate the feeling. Thus, the fact of an outcome, which is simply a coordinated choice, should be analytically characterized by the notion of convergent expectations.

The intuitive formulation, or even a careful formulation in psychological terms, of what it is that a rational player expects in relation to another rational player in the “pure” bargaining game, poses a problem in sheer scientific description. Both players, being rational, must recognize that the only kind of “rational” expectation they can have is a fully shared expectation of an outcome. It is not quite accurate – as a description of a psychological phenomenon – to say that one expects the second to concede something; the second’s readiness to concede or to accept is only an expression of what he expects the first to accept or to concede, which in turn is what he expects the first to expect the second to expect the first to expect, and so on. To avoid an “ad infinitum” in the description process, we have to say that both sense a shared expectation of an outcome; one’s expectation is a belief that both identify the outcome as being indicated by the situation, hence as virtually inevitable. Both players, in effect, accept a common authority – the power of the game to dictate its own solution through their intellectual capacity to perceive it – and what they “expect” is that they both perceive the same solution.

If expectations of everyone do not converge — individuals having conflicting expectations about what will happen — then the expectations of none of the individuals can be rational. Even if one individual correctly anticipates the outcome, from the point of view of the disequilibrium system as a whole, the correct expectations are not rational because those expectations are inconsistent with equilibrium of the entire system. A change in the expectations of any other individual would imply that future prices would change from what had been expected. Only equilibrium expectations can be considered rational, and equilibrium expectations are a set of individual expectations that are convergent.

Making Sense of Rational Expectations

Almost two months ago I wrote a provocatively titled post about rational expectations, in which I argued against the idea that it is useful to make the rational-expectations assumption in developing a theory of business cycles. The title of the post was probably what led to the start of a thread about my post on the econjobrumors blog, the tenor of which  can be divined from the contribution of one commenter: “Who on earth is Glasner?” But, aside from the attention I received on econjobrumors, I also elicited a response from Scott Sumner

David Glasner has a post criticizing the rational expectations modeling assumption in economics:

What this means is that expectations can be rational only when everyone has identical expectations. If people have divergent expectations, then the expectations of at least some people will necessarily be disappointed — the expectations of both people with differing expectations cannot be simultaneously realized — and those individuals whose expectations have been disappointed will have to revise their plans. But that means that the expectations of those people who were correct were also not rational, because the prices that they expected were not equilibrium prices. So unless all agents have the same expectations about the future, the expectations of no one are rational. Rational expectations are a fixed point, and that fixed point cannot be attained unless everyone shares those expectations.

Beyond that little problem, Mason raises the further problem that, in a rational-expectations equilibrium, it makes no sense to speak of a shock, because the only possible meaning of “shock” in the context of a full intertemporal (aka rational-expectations) equilibrium is a failure of expectations to be realized. But if expectations are not realized, expectations were not rational.

I see two mistakes here. Not everyone must have identical expectations in a world of rational expectations. Now it’s true that there are ratex models where people are simply assumed to have identical expectations, such as representative agent models, but that modeling assumption has nothing to do with rational expectations, per se.

In fact, the rational expectations hypothesis suggests that people form optimal forecasts based on all publicly available information. One of the most famous rational expectations models was Robert Lucas’s model of monetary misperceptions, where people observed local conditions before national data was available. In that model, each agent sees different local prices, and thus forms different expectations about aggregate demand at the national level.

It is true that not all expectations must be identical in a world of rational expectations. The question is whether those expectations are compatible with the equilibrium of the model in which those expectations are embedded. If any of those expectations are incompatible with the equilibrium of the model, then, if agents’ decision are based on their expectations, the model will not arrive at an equilibrium solution. Lucas’s monetary misperception model was a clever effort to tweak the rational-expectations assumption just enough to allow for a temporary disequilibrium. But the attempt was a failure, because Lucas could only generate a one-period deviation from equilibrium, which was too little for the model to pose as a plausible account of a business cycle. That provided Kydland and Prescott the idea to discard Lucas’s monetary misperceptions idea and write their paper on real business cycles without adulterating the rational expectations assumption.

Here’s what Muth said about the rational expectations assumption in the paper in which he introduced “rational expectations” as a modeling strategy.

In order to explain these phenomena, I should like to suggest that expectations, since they are informed predictions of future events, are essentially the same as the predictions of the relevant economic theory. At the risk of confusing this purely descriptive hypothesis with a pronouncement as to what firms ought to do, we call such expectations “rational.”

The hypothesis can be rephrased a little more precisely as follows: that expectations of firms (or, more generally, the subjective probability distribution of outcomes) tend to be distributed, for the same information set, about the prediction of the theory (or the “objective” probability distributions of outcomes).

The hypothesis asserts three things: (1) Information is scarce, and the economic system generally does not waste it. (2) The way expectations are formed depends specifically on the structure of the relevant system describing the economy. (3) A “public prediction,” in the sense of Grunberg and Modigliani, will have no substantial effect on the operation of the economic system (unless it is based on inside information).

It does not assert that the scratch work of entrepreneurs resembles the system of equations in any way; nor does it state that predictions of entrepreneurs are perfect or that their expectations are all the same. For purposes of analysis, we shall use a specialized form of the hypothesis. In particular, we assume: 1. The random disturbances are normally distributed. 2. Certainty equivalents exist for the variables to be predicted. 3. The equations of the system, including the expectations formulas, are linear. These assumptions are not quite so strong as may appear at first because any one of them virtually implies the other two.

It seems to me that Muth was confused about what the rational-expectations assumption entails. He asserts that the expectations of entrepreneurs — and presumably that applies to other economic agents as well insofar as their decisions are influenced by their expectations of the future – should be assumed to be exactly what the relevant economic model predicts the expected outcomes to be. If so, I don’t see how it can be maintained that expectations could diverge from each other. If what entrepreneurs produce next period depends on the price they expect next period, then how is it possible that the total supply produced next period is independent of the distribution of expectations as long as the errors are normally distributed and the mean of the distribution corresponds to the equilibrium of the model? This could only be true if the output produced by each entrepreneur was a linear function of the expected price and all entrepreneurs had identical marginal costs or if the distribution of marginal costs was uncorrelated with the distribution of expectations. The linearity assumption is hardly compelling unless you assume that the system is in equilibrium and all changes are small. But making that assumption is just another form of question begging.

It’s also wrong to say:

But if expectations are not realized, expectations were not rational.

Scott is right. What I said was wrong. What I ought to have said is: “But if expectations (being divergent) could not have been realized, those expectations were not rational.”

Suppose I am watching the game of roulette. I form the expectation that the ball will not land on one of the two green squares. Now suppose it does. Was my expectation rational? I’d say yes—there was only a 2/38 chance of the ball landing on a green square. It’s true that I lacked perfect foresight, but my expectation was rational, given what I knew at the time.

I don’t think that Scott’s response is compelling, because you can’t judge the rationality of an expectation in isolation, it has to be judged in a broader context. If you are forming your expectation about where the ball will fall in a game of roulette, the rationality of that expectation can only be evaluated in the context of how much you should be willing to bet that the ball will fall on one of the two green squares and that requires knowledge of what the payoff would be if the ball did fall on one of those two squares. And that would mean that someone else is involved in the game and would be taking an opposite position. The rationality of expectations could only be judged in the context of what everyone participating in the game was expecting and what the payoffs and penalties were for each participant.

In 2006, it might have been rational to forecast that housing prices would not crash. If you lived in many countries, your forecast would have been correct. If you happened to live in Ireland or the US, your forecast would have been incorrect. But it might well have been a rational forecast in all countries.

The rationality of a forecast can’t be assessed in isolation. A forecast is rational if it is consistent with other forecasts, so that it, along with the other forecasts, could potentially be realized. As a commenter on Scott’s blog observed, a rational expectation is an expectation that, at the time the forecast is made, is consistent with the relevant model. The forecast of housing prices may turn out to be incorrect, but the forecast might still have been rational when it was made if the forecast of prices was consistent with what the relevant model would have predicted. The failure of the forecast to be realized could mean either that forecast was not consistent with the model, or that between the time of the forecast and the time of its realization, new information,  not available at the time of the forecast, came to light and changed the the prediction of the relevant model.

The need for context in assessing the rationality of expectations was wonderfully described by Thomas Schelling in his classic analysis of cooperative games.

One may or may not agree with any particular hypothesis as to how a bargainer’s expectations are formed either in the bargaining process or before it and either by the bargaining itself or by other forces. But it does seem clear that the outcome of a bargaining process is to be described most immediately, most straightforwardly, and most empirically, in terms of some phenomenon of stable and convergent expectations. Whether one agrees explicitly to a bargain, or agrees tacitly, or accepts by default, he must if he has his wits about him, expect that he could do no better and recognize that the other party must reciprocate the feeling. Thus, the fact of an outcome, which is simply a coordinated choice, should be analytically characterized by the notion of convergent expectations.

The intuitive formulation, or even a careful formulation in psychological terms, of what it is that a rational player expects in relation to another rational player in the “pure” bargaining game, poses a problem in sheer scientific description. Both players, being rational, must recognize that the only kind of “rational” expectation they can have is a fully shared expectation of an outcome. It is not quite accurate – as a description of a psychological phenomenon – to say that one expects the second to concede something; the second’s readiness to concede or to accept is only an expression of what he expects the first to accept or to concede, which in turn is what he expects the first to expect the second to expect the first to expect, and so on. To avoid an “ad infinitum” in the description process, we have to say that both sense a shared expectation of an outcome; one’s expectation is a belief that both identify the outcome as being indicated by the situation, hence as virtually inevitable. Both players, in effect, accept a common authority – the power of the game to dictate its own solution through their intellectual capacity to perceive it – and what they “expect” is that they both perceive the same solution.

Viewed in this way, the intellectual process of arriving at “rational expectations” in the full-communication “pure” bargaining game is virtually identical with the intellectual process of arriving at a coordinated choice in the tacit game. The actual solutions might be different because the game contexts might be different, with different suggestive details; but the intellectual nature of the two solutions seems virtually identical since both depend on an agreement that is reached by tacit consent. This is true because the explicit agreement that is reached in the full communication game corresponds to the a prioir expectations that were reached (or in theory could have been reached) jointly but independently by the two players before the bargaining started. And it is a tacit “agreement” in the sense that both can hold confident rational expectation only if both are aware that both accept the indicated solution in advance as the outcome that they both know they both expect.

So I agree that rational expectations can simply mean that agents are forming expectations about the future incorporating as best as they can all the knowledge available to them. This is a weak common sense interpretation of rational expectations that I think is what Scott Sumner has in mind when he uses the term “rational expectations.” But in the context of formal modelling, rational expectations has a more restrictive meaning, which is that given all the information available, the expectations of all agents in the model must correspond to what the model itself predicts given that information. Even though Muth himself and others have tried to avoid the inference that all agents must have expectations that match the solution of the model, given the information underlying the model, the assumptions under which agents could hold divergent expectations are, in their own way, just as restrictive as the assumption that agents hold convergent expectations.

In a way, the disconnect between a common-sense understanding of what “rational expectations” means and what “rational expectations” means in the context of formal macroeconomic models is analogous to the disconnect between what “competition” means in normal discourse and what “competition” (and especially “perfect competition”) means in the context of formal microeconomic models. Much of the rivalrous behavior between competitors that we think of as being essential aspects of competition and the competitive process is simply ruled out by the formal assumption of perfect competition.


About Me

David Glasner
Washington, DC

I am an economist in the Washington DC area. My research and writing has been mostly on monetary economics and policy and the history of economics. In my book Free Banking and Monetary Reform, I argued for a non-Monetarist non-Keynesian approach to monetary policy, based on a theory of a competitive supply of money. Over the years, I have become increasingly impressed by the similarities between my approach and that of R. G. Hawtrey and hope to bring Hawtrey's unduly neglected contributions to the attention of a wider audience.

Archives

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,628 other followers

Follow Uneasy Money on WordPress.com