Hypothecation and housing

In my first post on Labor’s $10 billion housing fund, I pointed out that the $10 billion number is misleading.  The key idea is to borrow $10 billion at the low rate of interest payable on government debt, invest it in higher-yielding assets and use the profits (maybe $400 million a year, based on historical average returns) to finance social housing. The same model has been used by the LNP government to set up funds for a variety of purposes. There’s a total of $50 billion across five funds, the biggest of which is the Medical Research Future Fund of $22 billion, twice the size of Labor’s housing fund.  

All of these off-budget funds are managed by the Future Fund, which was established to offset the government’s unfunded superannation liabilities, and is currently just below the target level ($200 billion in the fund vs target of $215 billion).  The Future Fund can be seen as matching off-budget assets and liabilities

I’ll look at the general idea of sovereign wealth funds in a later post.  A separate question is whether it makes sense to allocate the proceeds of a particular source of revenue (the fund) to a particular policy objective (social housing). In the jargon, this is called hypothecation.

Economists generally dislike hypothecation, but it’s often a harmless way of making the link between revenue and expenditure clear. For example, some road projects in Queensland are funded by the revenue from speed and red light cameras. That encourages law-abiding motorists to think positively about the idea, and weakens the position of dangerous drivers complaining about ‘revenue raising’.

But the housing fund has no such merit. To the extent that the hypothecation is genuine, it means that the money available for social housing depends on the performance of the share market. And this dependence is the wrong way around. The case for public spending on social housing is strongest, both in terms of need and the availability of resources, when the economy and the share market are doing badly.

The Housing Fund is, quite simply, a poor substitute for direct public expenditure.

Labor’s $10 billion social housing fund: the frill necked lizard of Australian public expenditure

Following my cri de coeur about the limited scope for progressive analysis now that Labor has adopted almost the whole of the LNP economic program, I got a number of useful suggestions, one of which was a detailed analysis of Labor’s most prominent spending initiative, the $10 billion social housing fund. This idea raises a lot of issues, so I’m going to tackle it a bit at a time

First up, is $10 billion a lot, or a little? There was a time when programs like this were typically described in terms of the annual expenditure they entailed. If that were still the case, the program would be a really big deal. With cheap publicly-owned land and scale economies, $10 billion a year would probably enough for 40 000 homes at $250k apiece. Compared to around 200 000 a year being built privately, that would make a big difference.

But it’s been a long time since the conventions of annual budgeting were observed. The standard procedure now is to quote spending over 4 years (the arbitrarily chosen period of forward estimates in the budget) and the LNP government has occasionally extended this to 10 years, which is absurd given the rate at which things change..

Even $10 billion over four years would still be a big deal however, enough to reinstate social housing as a major part of public policy.

Sadly, the crucial word here is “fund”. Labor isn’t planning to spend $10 billion. The idea is to borrow $10 billion, invest it in high-yielding assets and use the profit (the difference between the market rate of return and the government bond rate) to finance social housing. I’ll have lots more to say about this, but for the moment what matters is the amount that can be raised in this way.

The standard estimate of the “equity premium” is around 4 percentage points, meaning that the government could borrow at 2 per cent and plan to earn a 6 per cent return on average. That yields net earnings of $400 million a year, enough, on the calculations above, to pay for 1600 homes. That would be nice for the people who got off the waiting list, but not really a big deal.

Back in the day, the frill-necked lizard, which can make itself look a lot bigger than it really is, was briefly a popular meme, particularly in Japanese anime circles. Labor’s $10 billion fund is the frill-necked lizard of public expenditure policy.

Getting it wrong on self-driving vehicles (crosspost from Crooked Timber)

A few years ago, I got enthusiastic about the prospects for self-driving vehicles, and wrote a couple of posts on the topic. It’s now clear that this was massively premature, as many of the commenters on my post argued. So, I thought it would be good to consider where and why I went wrong on this relatively unimportant issue, in the hopes of improving my thinking more generally.

The first thing I got wrong was overcorrecting on an argument I’d made for a long time, about the difference between radical progress in information and communications technology and stagnation in transport technology. The initial successful trials of self-driving vehicles in desert locations led me to think that ICT had finally come to transport, when in fact only the easiest part of the problem was solved.

There was also an element of wishful thinking. As commenter Hidari observed, the most obvious use of self-driving vehicles is to provide mobility for 75+ Baby Boomers. As someone approaching that category, and having never liked driving much, this is an appealing prospect for me. And I liked the idea of taking other bad drivers’ hands off the steering wheel.

That framing of the issue is very different from the way a lot of commenters saw it. Should self-driving cars be seen as automated taxis, and if so is automation desirable or not? Is any improvement in car technology a distraction from the need to shift away from cars altogether? I don’t have good answers to these questions, but they indicate that resistance to self-driving cars won’t be purely a matter of technological judgement.

Finally, having put forward a position, I am usually tenacious in defending it. Within limits, that’s a good thing, particularly in the context of a blog where the discussion doesn’t have any direct implications for what happens in the world. It’s good to put up the strongest case, and test it against all counter-arguments. But that approach carries the risk of being obstinately wrong.

I’m hoping discussion here will help me deal with more consequential errors of judgement I’ve made. So feel free either to discuss the original question of self-driving vehicles or the broader issue of how to think about mistakes, and particularly mistakes I’ve made.

Booster shots

While I reconsider what I should write about, I’m also thinking about when to get a Covid booster shot. I had planned to do so in February, six months after my second AZ shot. But now, I’m thinking I should wait until the vaccines have been updated for Omicron, maybe in March.

The question I need to assess is how rapidly, if at all, case numbers will grow in Queensland once borders are reopened. So far, it seems clear that Queensland has R < 1, though not so clear why. A string of local outbreaks have been detected, then fizzled out. With vax rates rising, and a combination of vax passports and employment mandates coming into force, that should continue even with regular arrivals of new cases, suggesting that waiting is not a bad idea.

Omicron could change all that, but if it does, it seems even more sensible to get an updated vax. It’s going to be a nervous few months.

Looking for a new direction

My latest newsletter is here

Opening para

Labor has finally released its climate policy, which is just ambitious enough to differentiate it from Morrison’s do-nothingism. Apart from that, and process issues like the introduction of a federal version of ICAC, it seems unlikely that there will be any significant policy differences between the parties at the forthcoming election. Labor’s support for high-income tax cuts and budget “repair” means any spending initiatives will be small, and possible (as in the case of the social housing fund) shunted off-budget. And of course there is no guarantee Labor will win.

So, I’ve decided to shift my attention away from economic policy for the moment. 

A pleasant surprise, for once

Labor’s commitment to a 2030 target of reducing emissions by 43 per cent is a pleasant surprise. I expected 35 per cent and was confident it wouldn’t be more than 40.

In essence, the 43 per cent target a restatement of the goal taken to the 2019 election. The difference is within the margin of measurement error and appears to reflect the need not to reannounce a policy that had previously been abandoned.

The commitment is a surprise because it follows a series of announcements which ruled out most of the obvious policy options to reduce emissions, including a carbon price, a moratorium on new coal, oil and gas projects. Recent reports also said that Labor would reject the idea of a vehicle fuel efficiency target.

The announcement of the target reduction gave no indication of how Labor plans to reach it. Action already taken by state governments, business and the general public seems likely to achieve a 30-35 per cent reduction, primarily from the decarbonization of electricity generation. Where will the rest of the reductions come from.


There’s room to speed up the electricity transition, for example through a new Renewable Energy Target. Labor has also foreshadowed an expansion of the “safeguards” mechanism for industrial emissions introduced by the current government, covering more firms and lowering the current cap. There may also be some room to move on land use, although that is the kind of politically contentious policy Labor has been at pains to avoid in recent times.


Finally, there’s transport. Unless we move rapidly to an electrification of the vehicle fleet, transport emissions will continue to grow. It’s hard to see how this can be achieved without a vehicle fuel efficiency target. In 2019, Labor promised to consult with industry about such a target, but recent reports have suggested that the coming policy statement will rule this out. This would be big mistake.

The animals looked from pigs to men, and men to pigs …

I was going to follow up my post on Labor’s tax and expenditure policies (effectively identical to LNP) with one on climate, pointing out the remaining difference – Labor’s 2019 proposal for a vehicle fuel efficiency target. Given that Morrison had tangled himself up with his backflip on electric vehicles after snarking about “abolishing the weekend” this seemed like one policy that would survive.

But Albanese never misses a chance to disappoint, and it’s been reported he’ll dump the policy. That leaves no room for any substantive difference between the parties. Labor will probably announce the 35 per cent emissions reduction target, already on track thanks to action by the states. Morrison wanted to do the same, but Barnaby Joyce vetoed an explicit target. However, the difference is purely symbolic.

How small a target: taxation and expenditure

I was puzzled by Anthony Albanese’s Budget reply speech in May this year, which put forward only one alternative policy, a “$10 billion social housing fund”, which proved on inspection to be an off-budget piece of spurious financial engineering that, if all went well might generate $500 million a year for housing. The government already has four or five similar funds and of course the much larger Future fund.

What puzzled me was that Albanese’s response seemed to fall between two stools: either criticise the budget and save your own policies for later, or respond by making a big announcement of your alternative expenditure policy.

Six months later, the answer is clear. The social housing fund is Labor’s big alternative budget policy. There’s also an expansion of support for child care, announced in response to the 2020 budget, and largely matched by the government in 2021 (Labor’s policy is still significantly better for families with income over $100k, and only one child in care, and somewhat worse for the relative small group of families with three or more children in care).

Apart from that, as far as I can tell, zilch.. Labor has promised to implement the tax cuts for high income earners which were passed with bipartisan support after the 2019 election. And its rhetoric on “budget repair” (aka austerity) is identical to that of the government. So, there’s no room for much new spending.

Still, there are presumably some goodies being saved up for the campaign. I’m hoping that the list will include an increase in Jobseeker to somewhere near the poverty line, but I’m not confident.

Of course, there are other issues beyond Budget policy. I may try to write a bit about those later.

The case for being born

The New Yorker is running a profile of the anti-natalist philosopher David Benatar. Reading it, I was unconvinced by the implied response to the obvious objection, “if life is so bad, why not kill yourself”, namely that suicide is painful in itself and causes pain to others.

I searched a bit, and discovered that, not only had Harry Brighouse covered the book at Crooked Timber soon after it came out, but I had made the same objection in comments[1], which I’ll reproduce for convenience

given that Benatar is arguing from a utilitarian rational choice position, his argument leads straight to the (more or less standard utilitarian) conclusion that there should be no moral weight attached to suicide. That is, people should commit suicide if they reasonably judge that their future pains outweigh their future pleasures. Sympathetic others should not deplore the fact of suicide (though they should be saddened by the facts leading to the decision). Once that position is established there’s no problem bringing new people into the world. If they don’t like it they can always kill themselves. That, it seems to me, is orthodox utilitarianism, with a bit of a helping hand from revealed preference. Of course, this kind of thing is all very well in a philosophy class. In reality, suicide is more commonly the result of momentary despair and is a tragedy for both the person concerned and their friends and family.

Since 2008, most Australian states have introduced assisted dying laws, which seem to strengthen the case against Benatar’s claim (at least as applied to Australians). People who face suffering that outweighs any future pleasure can end their lives painlessly and without causing harm to their loved ones (most people who have faced the painful death of loved ones supported the legislation).

It’s true that this option is only available to the terminally ill (12 months to live), but there was no apparent demand for broader access, and the number of people taking the option has remained small.

So, if painless suicide is possible, and those who care about us should (and mostly will) support our choices if life seems unbearable on careful reflection, Benatar just seems to be saying that we are all making the wrong choice in staying alive. How (except in the extreme nature of his suggestion) does this differ from someone saying we are all wrong in our choices of food, music, life partners etc and would be truly happy if we only ate food listened to music, and shared our lives with people we hated?

fn1. This happens to me a lot, either because of failing memory or excessive opinionating.