Tag: ideas vs. interests
My last nugget for the week is about how market and political entrepreneurs learn differently from failure. Market entrepreneurs learn from the relentless forces of profit and loss. They even host conferences and websites where they speak openly about their failures. In part because political entrepreneurs lack the same signals of profit and loss, this type of learning does not happen to the same extent in political markets. My co-author Wayne has further analysis on our blog.
Following up on my post from yesterday, the Civil Aeronautics Board (CAB) regulated U.S. airline rates and routes from the 1930s through the 1970s. It also kept mountains of data. Aspiring Ph.D. candidates found worthy dissertation material from the agency’s files. The research lent support to an important idea—regulation was failing in this market—but no one listened to these young academic scribblers.
By the early 70s, an established academic produced a groundbreaking treatise arguing for sensible regulation. Alfred Kahn would soon make the jump from academic to regulator—of public utilities in the State of New York, not airlines.
By the mid-1970s, criticism of airline regulation had moved from academics to economists in think tanks (Brookings, AEI) and in government. At an economic conference on inflation convened by the Ford Administration, the delegates focused unexpectedly on a different idea: existing regulations were producing high prices. Yet as every economist in Washington knows, many reform ideas never become policy. Then came the political entrepreneurs.
First, Senator Ted Kennedy. An ambitious member of the Senate Judiciary Committee and chairman of the subcommittee on administrative procedure, Kennedy saw an opportunity to attack the over-regulated and under-competitive airline industry by critically examining the rules it played by.
Most judiciary subcommittee hearings were mind-numbingly boring, but airlines were sexy, and Kennedy turned the CAB hearings into high theatre, trotting out real but outrageous examples. A flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco (intrastate and thus not CAB-regulated) cost half as much as a flight from Washington to Boston (interstate and CAB-regulated). Even the dimmest reporter could connect the dots. The CAB looked bad. Kennedy looked good, as did the odds for reform.
Then the Carter Administration tapped Kahn to run the CAB. He allowed “experiments” in price flexibility (Super Saver fares). He approved new routes. Eventually, he questioned the agency’s purpose. The CAB had to go. This meant Kahn had to sell a very big idea to the madmen in authority, the decision-makers in Congress.
An accomplished economist who dabbled in theatre on the side, Kahn played his role perfectly. The former academic scribbler was funny, smart, patient and on point. He was a master communicator with press and politicians alike.
Kahn built on Kennedy, who built on the work of intellectuals in Washington’s think tanks and policy circles, who in turn built on good academic research. Importantly, he found allies across the political spectrum, from the American Conservative Union to Common Cause, from business interests to consumer groups. This odd mix prevented easy dismissal of reform as the pet project of the left, the right, or any special interest.
With passage of the Airline Deregulation Act of 1978, Congress closed the CAB and left behind an unprecedented example of radical reform. A better idea had made its way from academic scribblers, through the intellectuals and on to madmen in authority, who were compelled to act. Yet so much of the story hinges on the actions of Kennedy and Kahn—two very different individuals, two very effective political entrepreneurs.
None of my entries this week has directly discussed Wayne Leighton’s and my new book, Madmen, Intellectuals, and Academic Scribblers. This post briefly conveys the book’s motivation and argument. A follow up post will illustrate the argument with the case of airline deregulation.
Alex describes Madmen as “revolution without romance,” analogous to Jim Buchanan’s account of public choice as “politics without romance.” It’s an apt comparison because although Madmen is rooted in public choice, we explain why public choice cannot account for political change without incorporating ideas and entrepreneurship.
To do so, we focus throughout the book on three questions:
1. Why do democracies generate policies that are wasteful and unjust?
2. Why do failed policies persist over long periods, even when they are known to be socially wasteful and even when better alternatives exist?
3. Why do some wasteful policies get repealed (for example, airline rate and route regulation) while others endure (such as sugar subsidies and tariffs)?
Traditional public choice answers question #1 (concentrated benefits & diffuse costs) as well as question #2 (transitional gains trap). Yet wasteful institutional arrangements do sometimes get repealed or reformed. In addition to airlines, other network industries such as trucking and energy pipelines were significantly deregulated in the 1970s, followed by income tax reform in the 80s, spectrum license auctions and welfare reform in the 90s, and more.
Madmen argues that better institutions derive from better ideas, through a political process that is driven by key players: madmen, intellectuals, and academic scribblers.
The academic scribblers originate ideas, which must then face off with vested interests and long-held beliefs in the status quo. The “intellectuals” (Hayekian traders in ideas) propagate the ideas they think are best. When political opportunity strikes, it then becomes in the interests of the madmen in authority (those who grip the levers of political power) to implement the new idea and change the rules of the game (that is, to change the institutions). New rules reshape people’s incentives, which in turn directs people’s decisions toward different outcomes—for better or worse.
The process can be revolutionary, creating new institutions through a crisis such as war or depression. Lenin and the Bolsheviks come to mind; so do the American Founders and Franklin D. Roosevelt. At other times, this process can be evolutionary, not born out of a crisis but emerging as part of a nonviolent battle of ideas.
At the end of the day, ideas do not surmount established interests on their own; nor do ideas automatically shape new institutions when political opportunity strikes. Instead, institutions change when political entrepreneurs notice areas of weakness in the structure of ideas, institutions, and incentives, and then find ways to implement different rules in those areas. The entrepreneurs in political change may be philosophers, opinion makers, political leaders, or other types of influencers. What they have in common is access to a stock of ideas, a knack for perceiving times when a different idea can take hold, and the grit to drive madmen in authority toward changing institutions accordingly.
That’s stating things generally. Alex’s post gives flavor to the argument in the case of spectrum license auctions. And tomorrow I will follow up to show how Alfred Kahn and Teddy Kennedy were political entrepreneurs who revolutionized the airlines by implementing a different idea.
The Innovative Design Protection Act (S.3523) would extend copyright protection for three years to fashion designs, including “undergarments, outerwear, gloves, footwear, and headgear; handbags, purses, wallets, tote bags, and belts; and eyeglass frames.” (Bill text.) Despite being introduced in every Congress since 2006, the bill has barely eked out of committee and no version has been brought to a floor vote.
On the surface, it seems that Congress should have done more with this proposal. It would make U.S. law commensurate with designer protections in France, Canada, and other countries. Supporters argue this would save U.S. jobs and constrain foreign pirates from stealing American ingenuity. Congress has previously carved out copyright protections for other useful articles. And there is a popular industry lobby behind the proposal. What’s more, the courts have recently protected fashion designs. So why haven’t the authors of the bill celebrated yet?
1. Because fashion design in the U.S. is centered in a relatively few locales, it doesn’t yield political gains to a sufficient number of congressional districts or states. But this explanation is a false start because legislation like this gets logrolled all the time.
2. It is simply a bad idea and doesn’t pass even Washington’s sniff test. This ascribes much credit to Congress in sifting good ideas from bad.
3. The lobby, while part of it is popular and noticeable, is not unified behind the idea. High-end designers have been backing the idea from the start, but clothing and shoe makers dug in their heels early and later came on board nominally (they prefer reducing import tariffs).
4. A version of the fashion copyright bill was first introduced in the House in 2006, just as the housing bubble was going pop. With Washington focused on the financial crisis, terrorism, and unemployment, and with a growing public furor over economic inequality, the deck has been stacked against distributing rents to high-end designers.
5. Increased party polarization over the past decade has made it difficult to establish winning coalitions for bills like these. A few days ago I asked Chris Sprigman (co-author of “The Piracy Paradox”) about this. He said, “That’s generally true, but hasn’t been true of copyright. Copyright has mostly been bipartisan.” While he and Kal Raustiala predicted after the recent election that the GOP could potentially take a more reluctant stance on copyright: “then as if on cue, the whole Republican Study Committee fracas over the “anti-copyright” report erupted.” Chris elaborates here.
In sum: It’s conceivable the bill could just hang around long enough and a political opportunity will emerge. Yet having barely made it out of committee, and with no floor vote in either chamber, the proposal hasn’t been put to a serious political test. So it could just be too politically risky. Everyone buys clothes and shoes, and they presumably like that they’re spending less and less on apparel. Plus, through their regular shopping experiences, they can also see vividly that knockoffs are the reason they have inexpensive options. Do elected officials really want to test those waters? It’s difficult to see a winning coalition forming against the potential backlash that fashion copyright would generate.
More on these issues from MR:
Alex covered the rapid cameo of the Republican Study Committee’s “radical but sensible position paper on copyright.”
Tyler covered “The Piracy Paradox” in his February 2006 entry, “How does the fashion industry work without copyright?” See also his: “Can we do without digital rights management?” and why the economics of food recipes resists copyright (“Food relies so much on execution…”); and why the French prioritize copyright.
My inner sociologist says to me that when a good idea comes up against entrenched interests, the good idea typically fails. But this is going to be a hard thing to suppress. Level playing field forecasting tournaments are going to spread. They’re going to proliferate. They’re fun. They’re informative. They’re useful in both the private and public sector. There’s going to be a movement in that direction.
That is Philip Tetlock in a conversation with Daniel Kahneman on the importance of revolutionizing prediction methods. Is CBO listening? Hat tip: the amazing Giancarlo Ibarguen.