Robert Lekachman’s The Age of Keynes (Random House, $6) is aptly titled. As Professor Milton Friedman puts it, “We are all Keynesians now.” At least we all have had to make adaptation to the realities of Keynesian political manipulation. But, since John Maynard Keynes said so many things at so many different times in his life (he ended by expressing his worries about the future of individualism to Professor Hayek), professions of loyalty to the Master don’t really get us very far. Marx said in his old age that he was not a Marxist, and Keynes, if he had lived, might have followed suit.
Keynesianism, as Professor Lekachman demonstrates, began as a special response to the economic condition of
It is easy to understand how Keynesianism got its hold on the world in the nineteen thirties. The trouble is that it created a new breed of economists, of whom Professor Lekachman is at least tentatively one, that sees the whole future history of the human race as a continuation of the special situation that existed between the two world wars. This breed continues to think of government “investment” of one sort or another as the only sure guarantee of enough “aggregate demand” to keep the enterprise system going without falling prey to the socialists.
The “massive spending” theory seems to have been justified by what happened in World War II, when government purchases of war material put all our factories to work and wiped out the unemployment which had defied the most earnest cogitations of Franklin Roosevelt’s brain trusters. But it did this by breaking the dollar in two. At the same time it destroyed the currencies and the economic plant of two big continents. When the war was over, a new “special situation” existed. As Will Clayton said, the “world was naked.” It had to do business with and in
What picked things up to create such phenomena as the “German miracle,” the Japanese revival, and the long
Pushers vs. Pullers
Economists seem to fall into two loose categories. There are the “pull” theoreticians who think that “aggregate demand” is a function of the money and credit supply. And there are the “push” theoreticians, beginning with the Say of Say’s Law of Markets, who think that the creation of goods and services makes for an exchange situation that automatically builds up “aggregate demand.” Whether one is a “pull” theoretician or a “push” advocate may very well be a matter of glandular endowment. The “pull” philosophy proceeds from a pessimistic view of the possibilities inherent in human ingenuity and human energy. The “push” view is inseparable from an optimistic trust in what inventive men are capable of doing.
During the thirties, I spent the first half of the decade reading books about the plight of the world. Though I am congenitally an optimist, I forced myself into the negative mold that was then all the rage in the intellectual circles that fed the New Deal. During the second half of the decade I worked for Fortune Magazine, doing corporation stories. The latter experience was worth far more than the earlier dalliance among the pessimists.
For what was happening in the thirties at the laboratory and factory level was proof to a neophyte’s wondering eyes that the tides of economics move in response to the tinkerer, the laboratory man, the inventor, the ingenious rearranger, even more than they move in response to the fiscal and monetary priests. Economists should spend more time visiting factories! In the decade of the thirties the seeds were planted that led, after 1945, to the dazzling efflorescence of the synthetics market. The Du Pont company owed far more to professors of chemistry than to professors of economics.
The Keynesians, trying to raise aggregate farm income by acreage restrictions, thought they had the agricultural situation well in hand. But the new fertilizers and insecticides and genetic discoveries, coming out of the laboratories of the thirties, made a mock of restrictionism, and the modern farm revolution, which forced many an inefficient producer off the land, happened anyway. The jet plane came with the war, and is only now coming into its own commercially, to the point where it yields higher wages to machinists who have succeeded in flouting Keynesian wage-price guideposts. The TV market, held back by governmental busybodies in the thirties, finally got off dead center. And the whole world of electronics, pushed along by the war-born need for such things as radar, boomed along with TV.
So, is it Keynesian wisdom that has kept us going since 1945, or is it the older wisdom that puts its trust in the constant emergence of so-called “ladder industries”? The “pull” theoretician will take Professor Lekachman’s word for it that Keynesian government servants have kept us prosperous. The “push” advocate will look back to older economists such as the forgotten Garet Garrett, or to Professor Schumpeter, or to the Austrians who think that if the money tinkerers desist, the inventors will have a better chance of getting their innovations to the buying public.
Having posed my glandular bias against that of Professor Lekachman, it remains to be said that The Age of Keynes is a delightfully written book. Keynes himself was a literary man of high ability, and his way with words has rubbed off on many of his modern disciples. Indeed, the influence of the neo-Keynesians may be due more to their gift for phrases than their economic logic.
Professor Lekachman’s history is mainly correct as to the facts he uses to support his theory. But there are some telling omissions. It is at least slightly unhistorical to give Professor Alvin Hansen the credit — or the obloquy — for evolving the theory of permanent American secular stagnation; Rexford Tugwell came before him, and, what is most important, it was Tugwell who sold the idea of the overbuilt economy to President Roosevelt. Again, it is a little strange to find Keynesians in general, and Professor Walter Heller in particular, reaping all the high praise for the 1965 income tax cut. Conservatives have been shouting for lo, these many years that high taxes are a drag on productivity. When Keynesians return to common sense, it should be treated as a conversion, not a dazzling discovery.