We are developing the social individualist meta-context for the future. From the very serious to the extremely frivolous... lets see what is on the mind of the Samizdata people.
Samizdata, derived from Samizdat /n. - a system of clandestine publication of banned literature in the USSR [Russ.,= self-publishing house]
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Why was that slump, over and done with by 1922, so much shorter than the following decade’s? Well, for starters, he said, President Woodrow Wilson suffered an incapacitating stroke at the end of 1919, while his successor, Warren G. Harding, universally considered one of the worst presidents in American history, preferred drinking, playing poker and golf, and womanizing, to governing. “So nothing happened,” Mr. Vedder said. Of course Mr. Vedder does not wish ill health — or obliviousness — on any chief executive. Still, in his view, when you’re talking about government intervention in the economy, doing nothing is about the best you can hope for from any president.
From a nice article on revisionist accounts of the New Deal and Roosevelt.
Via Marginal Revolution, which has a quite good comment thread on this issue.
Talk of Warren Harding, a much maligned president, reminds me of Paul Johnson’s book, Modern Times, in which that president gets a much-overdue rehabilitation, along with Calvin “Silent Cal” Coolidge.
The current Guido Fawkes Quote of the Day features Andrew Neil saying, in yesterday’s Observer, how very hated the ridiculous Derek Draper (a particular Guido aversion) seems to have become, amongst the sort of people who think it worth sharing their hatreds of public figures with the likes of Andrew Neil.
But I found more interesting what Neil says about The Boat That Rocked, the new Richard Curtis movie about the pirate radio stations of old:
The pirate stations were not killed off by a Tory public-school prime minister (as in the film), but by a grammar school boy and Labour PM, Harold Wilson, and the destruction was not carried out by a Tory toff minister (as in the Curtis version), but by a left-wing toff, Tony Benn (then Labour minister in charge of the airwaves).
Yes, that’s certainly how I remember the story.
. . . the pirate stations were shut not by a stuffy Tory establishment, but by a supposedly modernising Labour government. Fact really is stranger than fiction.
I don’t think that strange, any more than I think that the lies built into Curtis’s plot are strange. “Modernising Labour governments” think that they know best how to do modernity, and are a standing menace to the real thing. Having ruined whichever bit of modernity they were obsessing about, they and their supporters then lie about that, blaming – for as long as they plausibly can – capitalism.
See also: the USSR. That was run by people who were absolutely obsessed with modernity, which they thought they could improve upon by dictatorial means. With the result that they stopped pretty much all of it dead in its tracks, apart from the stuff like concentration camps. And for decades, people like Richard Curtis told lies about that too.
My post below on the experience of Scottish banking before 1845 – when the rules were changed by the-then UK government of Robert Peel – elicited a lot of great comments. It turns out that the Lawrence White paper that I mentioned had been savaged fairly thoroughly by Murray Rothbard. Rothbard’s paper is immensely detailed and shows what a thorough economic historian Rothbard was. Briefly put, he says that White has misinterpreted the Scottish banking experience by not distinguishing between free banks that operated 100 per cent reserve requirements linked to gold, and those that were simply free banks without such specie requirements. (Rothbard was an advocate of such metal-backed money). This inevitably raises that old friend of ours, fractional reserve banking, which Rothbard described as essentially a fraud. Now in trying to make up my mind on FRB, it seems to me that so long as the holder of bank notes is made aware that the note has been issued by an FRB, rather than a 100-percent reserves one, then what is the problem? It is a bit like the argument about limited liability corporations that vex some libertarians such as Sean Gabb of the Libertarian Alliance. Surely, if I transact with a LL company and knowingly do so, then such consent is what counts. LL companies could, conceivably, exist even without special government legislation, although they might not last as long as LL firms do now. (Here is a rejoinder to Gabb on LL). Same with FRB: if there is commercial deposit insurance and customers know the score, I fail to see why the existence of fractional banking should necessarily lead to disaster. Or is there something I am missing in this debate?
At first blush, some might consider all this to be a bit arcane. It is anything but. Explaining how banks work now, and how they can be made to work much better as a result of competition and basic rules, will go some way, I hope, to destroying misconceptions. Such misunderstandings that exist at the moment only play into the hands of those who want to bring the free market order down. Such as those folk protesting at the G20 summit in London today. I will be in the area on business. I might take some photos and post them up later if they are any good.
Update: I was in the Docklands area. Nothing much going on while I was there.
Those good people at the Institute of Economic Affairs have put this fine study of free banking, as it existed in Scotland until the middle of the 19th Century, back into print. It is examined in great detail, with lots of figures and examples of how these banks operated, how many bank failures there were, and so forth. There are a few equations but nothing that should faze all but the most mathematically challenged. Historical scholarship of this detail and depth is vital. It is as vital, in fact, as those studies that showed that in Victorian Britain, before the Welfare State came along, Britain already had an extensive network of mutual aid societies. Without this historical memory, it becomes easier for politicians to sell the lie that the solution to X or Y lies in ever bigger government.
Readers can either read the pdf for free or, if it is tough on the eyesight, as it is for me, readers can get a publication-on-demand sorted out for just £10.
I do not suggest that free banking is necessarily the panacea for the current troubles. But it seems to me that a point lost on the anti-globalistas as well as many of the other critics of the current financial system is that they fail to grasp how banking, as it is practised in most instances today, has deviated from a genuine example of laissez faire capitalism. What we need is sound money, administered by banks operating under the constant blast of competition in proving the soundness of that money. When you think about it, it is not very hard to grasp the idea, is it?
Our mother having made her final exit from it twelve days ago, the Visigothic sacking of her house by her children process has now gone into overdrive, and all sorts of odd objects have come to light.
My favourite discovery so far is this:
We wondered just how old that might be. Late forties? Maybe earlier? We quickly found a big clue on the lid:
Nothing says World War quite like a rusty tin of powdered milk, with a note on it from the government about metal conservation, not for reasons of environmental holiness but to make weapons! Truly, a vivid reminder of the ordeals that Mum’s generation endured. At that time, she was raising two young children. By 1947 she had four.
Are we now being plunged by our current idiot government into a similar state of austerity, and will more powdered milk from across the Atlantic soon be needed? If so, will America be either willing or able to provide it?
Virginia Postrel has a nice item about WW2 aviator style and the Tuskegee airmen who broke racial barriers of their time in WW2. I must say that there is something deliciously satisfying at the thought that these guys helped shoot down the airforce of a racist German empire. And that they flew such glorious birds like the P-51 Mustang as they did so.
Talking to fellow contributor Brian Micklethwait last night, we somehow got on the subject of the recent property and debt market bubble, and what a total mess things were. And Brian pointed out that some market bubbles, like the infamous Dutch tulip bubble of the 17th Century, were based on almost a totally ridiculous notion, delivering nothing of value, whereas at least the tech bubble of the 1990s, for all of the associated craziness and subsequent pain of the crash, did at least propel a lot of useful innovation in the internet and associated world, just as the railway boom of the 1840s in the UK helped drive forward development of the railways, even though the industry had its fair share of crooks and incompetents. And for that matter, even the tulip bubble, as the Wikipedia entry I linked to suggests, did perhaps help to drive development of what is still a huge horticultural industry in the Low Countries.
The trouble with bubbles is that they pop. But it is too easy to forget, in our current fit of puritan disgust for speculative frenzy, that much, if not all of the energy that can drive prices for things higher is reflective of often dynamic and highly beneficial changes in the long run. I still believe that in a few years’ time, unless we have reverted to statism completely, that the long boom of the 1990s and most of the ‘Noughties will be seen as a generally good thing, even though part of it was driven by unwisely cheap money set by central banks – state institutions – rather than genuine economic rationale.
A half-remembered phrase from a short story by C S Forester is lodged in my mind. The story is set in World War II. Some sort of British warship has to approach very near an enemy-occupied coast, do something or other heroic, and then get away before the German artillery can do its work. The ship, under the guidance of its iron-nerved captain, does so, and then – futzed if I can remember the details – stops or delays to do something else, to serve some side order of military misery to go with the main dish, the captain having calculated that it will take a certain amount of time for the defenders to wake up, realise this is for real, get orders and crank up the guns or whatever. Everyone else on the bridge makes their estimate of how long all this will take erring on the side that one does generally err on when the penalty for error on the other side is to be shot at by artillery, but the captain makes his estimate the way he would from his armchair at home. His bold guess is right, and the ship gets away. And then comes the phrase that shows clear among the fog of my other memories of this story: those watching on the bridge were awed by his sheer will to do the enemy harm.
I dare say in WWII there were many people, ordinary people, who really did spend a substantial fraction of their time thinking up ways to hurt the Axis. No doubt most of them ended up bombarding the War Office with absurd plans and inventions that came to nothing, but some of them found ways that worked. It must be rather interesting to live in a time and a place where it is good to let the will to harm the enemy run free.
We in Greater Europe do live in such a time and place. Don’t get excited. I am not advocating violence. In fact I get a little disturbed when Tim Worstall, the blogger whom I am about to quote, makes his customary appeal for a hempen rope and a strong beam. But when I read on his blog about this latest measure from the EU, all I could think was harm them. Bring them down. Please, I would be grateful.
I generally like the columns of William Rees-Mogg on economics; while he is no hardline free marketeer like the scribes here, he has a sharper nose for the errors of interventionism than many MSM writers. He also has a knack – which comes from a man who is of great age – for putting current events into a proper historical context. But he makes this statement in his generally admiring writeup on Roosevelt that is surely downright wrong. Not just a teeny-weenie bit wrong, but disastrously so for this whole argument:
In March 1933, when Franklin Roosevelt was inaugurated as president, he had to face the Slump. Unemployment was by then running at about 30 per cent. Roosevelt introduced the New Deal, based on an extensive programme of raising employment through public works. Unemployment did actually fall to about 5 per cent by the time of Roosevelt’s second election victory in 1936. There continued to be stumbles along the way, particularly in 1937.
Well according to official US statistics referred to here, unemployment certainly did not fall anything like as low as that during FDR’s 1930s period in the White House, and then only dropped significantly once the Second World War started.
I do not know where Rees-Mogg got his figures from or what sort of statistical resource he is using, but this is not a minor discrepancy. To suggest that unemployment fell as low as 5 per cent in the mid-1930s seems to fly totally in the face of the official data.
This book reviewer says the 1930s were, on the whole, a pretty good time to be British. It is a point of view one does not come across very much, that is for sure. The stock image of the 1930s is the era that saw the rise of the Nazis, the Great Famine in the USSR, the Great Depression, Roosevelt, the Royal Abdication Crisis, etc. But was there more to it than that, at least at home? The book says that British society was in some ways in pretty good shape.
In military terms, at least by the end of the 1930s Britain had evolved what ultimately proved to be a very well organised air defence system, with radar and nifty fighters like the Spitfire. The 1930s was stylistically elegant: the cars of that era looked absolutely glorious.
On the other hand, I would argue that the 1930s was a period in which limited government continued to be under siege and apostles of planning and greater government regulation were gathering momentum, to reach fruition – if that is quite the right word – in 1945 with the election of the Attlee Labour government.
Discuss.
Is this what it must have felt like in the 1930’s?
A few months back – I don’t recall exactly when – I voiced my irritation here at the notion, regularly voiced by members of our commentariat until I said to put a sock in it, of leaving Britain to go and live somewhere else, usually the USA. I now officially withdraw this irritation. The sooner large numbers of Brits start voting with their feet, the sooner some kind of sanity may be restored to our public finances. Voice isn’t working very well just now, but there still remains exit, and the sound of people exiting is actually one of the loudest political voices there is.
Remember which way the Berlin Wall pointed? Idiot Western apologists for Bolshevism talked their way around everything else about the Evil Empire, but that they couldn’t explain. Remember when the success of Hong Kong as an alleviator of dirt-poor poverty and as a facilitator of the wildest of wild dreams was likewise denounced by the same idiots as a cruel and exploitative fantasy? Again, the statistics of who was then swimming, through what and in which direction, were the most telling of the lot, long before the economic numbers coming out of Hong Kong began to prove all those daredevil swimmers so magnificently right.
And here, now, nothing would concentrate the minds of our political class on doing the right things rather than stupid things like a mass stampede for the exit. If you are thinking now of leaving, do it. This would not only be selfishly sensible; it would be downright patriotic, just like regular voting for something sensible, only more so. In the event that any of our masters actually want to rescue our country from its present mess, nothing would be more useful to such persons than the pitter patter of adult feet, leaving for less insanely governed places. I still have hopes that Mr Cameron is now taking deep breaths and preparing himself to lunge for just this sort of glory. Call it the audacity of hope.
So, as the Americans say: way to go! But: where to go? Which countries are now the best bet for that alternative lifestyle, where you get to work, pay only moderate levels of tax, and are able rationally to hope that your grandchildren might do better than you instead of worse? The USA? Not now the obvious choice it might once have been, and in any case, how – legally – do you get in?
My suggestion is: Ireland. As the great Guido explained yesterday:
Ireland, which is taking the austerity route out of the crisis, slashing government spending, is attracting an entirely private sector solution to recapitalising banks. Property prices are becoming reasonable, tax rates are lower and big British run businesses are relocating to Ireland.
Ireland will probably be out of recession long before an economy crippled by Brown starts to recover – whomever wins the next election.
Apart from that peculiar “whomever”, that strikes me as likely to be very right, and a very good bet for a good place to go to. And as Guido makes clear, the pitter-pattering has already begun. And, look, Guido now has an update to that posting:
UPDATE: Ireland’s new finance bill is changing the law to entice non-doms to move from London to Ireland,
And I bet it’s not just non-doms. I bet that us doms are already joining in.
Pitter patter.
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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