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The Cato Institute has just published a new book that I (and others such as Deirdre McCloskey) have contributed to, The War on Prices: How Popular Misconceptions about Inflation, Prices, and Value Create Bad Policy.In my chapter, I point out how, from ancient Egypt to the US and UK today, government efforts to control wages and prices have never worked. Price caps, minimum wages, limits on wage increases and all the rest have not stopped inflation, nor helped the poor. but have invariably created shortages, reductions in product quality (and 'shrinkflation') and black markets. In the end (surprise surprise), it is the poorest people who suffer most.The book debunks the official narrative about the recent surge in prices and the cost of living. No, it wasn't caused by corporate greed, or wage-price spirals, price gouging, or oil prices, or Brexit, or anything else like that. It was caused by the US Federal Reserve, the European Central Bank and the appalling Bank of England keeping interest rates down too far for too long, and printing too much money.  The authors show how minimum wage rises, which are intended to help poorer workers deal with the cost of living, simply price people out of jobs, particularly those who are young and unskilled. And even when there aren't layoffs, minimum wage bills cause employers to cut perks, insist on less flexible work schedules, and neglect the work environment. Minimum wages are a very bad way to tackle poverty. There's much more of interest in the book, including analysis of price controls in World War II, Modern Monetary Theory, water pricing, CEO pay, oil and gas price controls in the 1970s, and much else. The book has received some excellent reviews to date, from a diverse range of economists and commentators. So order your copy here!

On this day, in 1899, the Nobel economist and social theorist Friedrich Hayek was born. He was, in the words of Robert Skidelsky, "the dominant intellectual influence of the last quarter of the twentieth century".Hayek was the driving force that kept alive the spirit of personal and economic freedom that had been crushed by the Second World War and the Keynesian economic experiment that followed it. Those who think they can rationally design a better society, he argued, suffer from the 'fatal conceit' that we know far more about how society works than we really do. Governments simply could not collect and process all the information needed to run a functioning economy, because that information is dispersed, diffuse, incomplete and personal. The socialist dream would always be frustrated by reality; and as socialists struggled to control things, we would be drawn down a road to serfdom.Societies do not need to be planned in order to be rational and functional. Their rules and customs contain a 'wisdom' that has stood the test of time. A wisdom that we cannot even understand, never mind control. The price system, for example, allocates resources to their most urgent uses, with a speed and efficiency that defies any government planners. Such 'spontaneous orders' (including not just markets but language, justice and much else) were, said Hayek, products of social evolution, not rational design. Trying to replace them with some planned 'rational' alternative always ends in disappointment and chaos.Hayek influenced a generation of economists, including many others who would also win the Nobel Prize, such as Milton Friedman, George Stigler, Maurice Allais, James Buchanan, Vernon Smith, Gary Becker, Ronald Coase and Elinor Ostrom. His ideas also enthused intellectuals who in turn disseminated his ideas even more widely. Among them were Henry Hazlitt, journalist and co-founder of the Foundation for Economic Education; Ralph (later Lord) Harris and Arthur Seldon who ran the Institute of Economic Affairs; F A ("Baldy") Harper who founded the Institute for Humane Studies, and Eamonn Butler and Madsen Pirie of the Adam Smith Institute.These thinkers and activists gave Hayek's ideas a real political effect. Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan owed much to his thinking, as did Mart Laar and Vaclav Klaus, who became political leaders in Eastern Europe after the fall of the Soviet system. "No person," concluded Milton Friedman, "had more of an influence on the intellectuals behind the Iron Curtain than Friedrich Hayek."Hayek remains an inspiration to lovers of individual freedom all over the world. Think tanks promote his view; student groups name themselves after him; college programmes take his name; economists and journalists cite him; his views are analysed in books, papers and blogs. Millions of ordinary people around the world owe to Hayek their enjoyment of the fruits of personal and academic freedom, even though they may not realise it; but then as Hayek pointed out, knowledge is not always obvious.Eamonn Butler is author of Friedrich Hayek: The Ideas and Influence of the Libertarian Economist (Harriman Economics Essentials).

Many people are familiar with Adam Smith's The Wealth of Nations (WoN), But Smith's ethical thinking was just as important. In fact, it was The Theory of Moral Sentiments (TMS), published 27 years earlier, on 12 April 1759, that made him famous.Just The Wealth of Nations, this book marked a complete break from the thinking of the time. Ethics had until then been widely assumed to be based on God's will (or the clerics' interpretation of it); or something that could be deduced through abstract reason; or even something that could be felt through some 'moral sense' like touch or vision. Replacing this speculative thinking by scientific method, Smith argued instead that morality stemmed from our human nature as social beings, and our natural empathy for others. By observing ourselves and others, he said, we could discover the principles of ethical behaviour. Ethics was a matter of human psychology, stemming from how we form judgements about ourselves and others, and the influence of customs, norms and culture upon it.This scientific approach to ethics was a sensation. It was very much in line with the Scottish Enlightenment, which sought to apply observation and scientific method to the study of human affairs. Old hierarchies were breaking down; industrialisation was eclipsing Scotland's feudal past; radical thinkers like Francis Hutcheson and David Hume were pushing new boundaries, and religious pluralism was creating a more active debate on virtue and morality.Smith's book explained that morality is rooted deeply in human psychology, especially the empathy we have for our fellow humans. By our nature, we understand, and even share the feelings of others. Wanting others to like us, we strive to act such that they do. Even if there is no one else around to see how we behave, we are still impelled to act honestly, says Smith, as if an 'impartial spectator' is judging us all the time, setting the standard by which we rate ourselves and others. And under this imaginary eye, every choice we make helps us appreciate that standard more clearly and act more consistently in accordance with it. It is as if an invisible hand is drawing us to act in ways that promote social harmony.TMS is mainly a descriptive account of human moral action. It examines how people actually make moral choices, and the pressures on them to do so. It also provides a guide on how we can cultivate our morality, emphasising the importance of self-reflection and self-improvement. Smith's radical scientific approach in TMS and WoN provided a foundation for the subsequent development of psychology, sociology, and economics, establishing them as distinct subjects of academic enquiry. And its suggestion that self-interested actions—wanting to be liked by others, or exchanging things we value less for others' things we value more—could produce a cooperative social and economic order, continues to have a central place in liberal thinking.All this makes the themes in The Theory of Moral Sentiments just as relevant today as they were in 1759. Through self-reflection, we can make better moral choices. Through our empathy with others, we can foster understanding and create a more peaceful society. Through an appreciation of our shared feelings and interests, we can live and work and collaborate together for the mutual benefit of the whole of humanity.

Achieving net zero carbon emissions by 2050, a plan to which all our leading political parties are committed- except Reform- will require large scale use of low carbon energy sources, including nuclear power. Various studies confirm what is obvious: that nuclear power has a significant role to play in meeting increasing world energy demand and keeping carbon emissions low. However, that means that nuclear power will have to become a much more significant part of the energy mix than it is today. The UK government reckons that the country needs to increase its nuclear power capacity to 24 gigawatts by 2050 to meet its net zero targets. That would make it about a quarter of projected electricity demand, compared to about a seventh today.Today's large-scale nuclear power plants are difficult, time-consuming and costly to build. But enterprising companies such as Rolls-Royce propose much smaller-scale plants — Small Modular Reactors or SMRs. They promise be much lower cost and much quicker to build. Even so, there is a lot of opposition to new nuclear construction (or indeed any sort of construction) from local residents; and the UK's highly restrictive planning rules don't make it any easier. (Nor, indeed, do the UK's energy regulators.)Maybe there is a solution, though: floating nuclear power plants. We site wind turbines offshore, so why not site nuclear power plants offshore too? Of course, it sounds like a cross between science fiction and fantasy, because we still have this idea that nuclear power plants need to be huge. But they don't. Nuclear energy has been used in ships of 70 years. There are today 162 nuclear-powered vessels floating on or below the surface of the sea. Nuclear energy is used to power submarines and icebreakers, allowing them to remain operational for very long periods. So no, it is neither science fiction nor fantasy, and marine engineers are actively working on the proposal. Last August, academics from King's College London delivered two workshops on floating nuclear power plants (FNPPs), in Jakarta and Manila. And the prominent marine engineer Stuart Bannantyne has also raised the same prospect in Australia. It's a good place for it, since 92% of Australians live near the coast or by rivers. But the same is true of many countries.Already, some countries have floating diesel- or gas-powered power stations in ports. The Russians were the first, in 2019, says Bannantyne. They placed a 70mw floating plant in the remote town of Vilyuchinsk. Since then the idea has spread. In November 2023, the International Atomic Energy Agency held an international conference on the idea of floating SMRs, looking to provide clean heat and power for remote coastal locations (and to replace carbon-based generators). The conference discussed all aspects of the option: licencing, regulation, safety, security and so on. Singapore, which suffers a lack of land space, is already thinking about the prospect in practical terms. A US shipping company is developing the concept of micro reactors on ships for shore-side locations. Floating reactors might even be a way to get power back to war-torn states once the shooting stops.It is unlikely that floating nuclear power plants will replace onshore generation. But for remote locations and in times of trouble — well, watch this space.Read Stuart Bannatyne's article in Spectator Australia. https://www.spectator.com.au/author/stuart-ballantyne/

Baroness (Pauline) Neville-Jones has issued a chilling warning about the 'growing' security threats and has called for the UK to spend 2.5% of GDP — even at the expense of tax cuts.It's a call to be taken seriously. She is a Conservative peer and former civil servant who chaired the Joint Intelligence Committee in the 1990s, served on the National Security Council, and was Minister for Security and Counter Terrorism in 2010-2011. She was also the first to argue that the UK needed to help Ukraine after Russia's 2014 attack on the Crimea. Ministry of Defence officials scoffed at the idea that Russia might have grander ambitions in the region. Now, the ongoing war makes that look recklessly optimistic.In addition to Ukraine, there is currently an active war in Gaza, which could even escalate to Iran and elsewhere, plus over 35 major armed conflicts in Africa (including Burkina Faso, Cameroon, the Central African Republic, the Congo, Ethiopia, Mali, Mozambique, Nigeria, Senegal, Somalia, South Sudan and Sudan. . And China is throwing its military weight around in the South China Sea, the Pacific and the Indian Ocean.Things are now striking very close to home. UK and European supply chains are being disrupted in the Red Sea and Straits of Hormuz. The UK's National Cyber Security Centre has warned that the threat to vital UK internet systems is 'enduring and significant', with a rise in aggressive state-sponsored cyber-terrorism. And other western nations face the same threats.It does indeed look like a very dangerous world. So are we doing enough about it? The international comparisons suggest not. For the first time in its history, the Russian government's 2024 budget will set military and defence spending at 6% of GDP — more than goes on social spending. At the 14th National People's Congress last month, China announced it would be raising its military budget by 7.2%. Not only does the world look very unsafe, it looks increasingly unsafe.And all this is coming at the worst possible time. Donald Trump, who looks set to re-enter the White House at the end of the year, has already announced that he would turn off US support to Ukraine, and he has hinted that the US will not even suppose NATO countries unless they start spending more on their own protection. Meanwhile, the UK (like many other European countries) is deep in debt, thanks to a string of governments (including Conservative ones) that have put tax-and-spend and costly regulation ahead of entrepreneurship and economic growth,Given the geopolitical and military threats around, that is not a great position to be in. And now, senior Conservatives like Neville-Jones are talking about strengthening defence even if it means sacrificing any growth-stimulating tax cuts. If only our governments had listened to the pro-growth, low-tax, balanced budget arguments much earlier.

Well, how do nations escape poverty? Those of us familiar with the prominent US economic historian Deirdre McClosky know the answer to that. Liberal values (what she calls 'bourgeois values'). Things like respect for individuals and their freedom of action, toleration, limited government, the rule of law, minimising the use of force, property and honouring contracts. All those things provide the compost in which the seeds of prosperity can grow.But it's a long and difficult process. And unfortunately, says the prolific German author and economist Rainer Zitelmann in his new book, we don't often help poor countries to do what it takes to acquire these values. On the contrary, we try to help them with foreign aid, which messes up what markets there are and is too often badly managed or even abused. And when the funding runs out, projects become unaffordable and are terminated, so whatever good was created by them is lost, as William Easterly and Dambisa Moyo point out. So what can poor countries do, and do better, to pull themselves out of poverty?Zitelmann takes two very different countries, Vietnam and Poland, who took very different paths to reform. Vietnam, of course, was not helped by years of destructive war, then communism sweeping down from the north. Like everywhere else, it found that collective agriculture systems, borne of communist ideology, simply didn't work. So, like China and so many others, they were eventually forced to modify it, still claiming it was collectivised, of course, but actually transferring responsibility to individual families, who had an incentive to produce more rather than work less. The limited markets for agricultural products gradually expanded, then individuals were allowed to employ up to ten other people. Internal customs barriers were eroded, and international trade opened up. Then price controls and subsidies faded, banking was reformed. The trappings of socialism remained, but it declined in economic significance.By contrast to this slow and piecemeal approach, says Zitelmann, Poland change rapidly and radically after the fall of communism. Its new finance minister, Leszek Balcerowicz realised that only 'shock therapy' would reverse decades of soviet mentality. A new law allowed people to engage in any economic activity they liked, and to employ as many others as they chose. Inflation was reined in by sound money policies. Debt was cut. Banks and other businesses were privatised. Industries were deregulated. Taxes were simpliefied, along the lines of a flat tas. That all led to a big rise in entrepreneurship. And the opening up of trade with the West brought people more and better products, and a rise in prosperity.The lesson, really, is that there is no 'right' way to make a country rich — 'to carry a state to the highest degree of opulence from the lowest barbarism,' as Adam Smith put it. But 'peace, easy taxes and a tolerable administration of justice' seem to be the essentials that you cannot do without.  Zitelmann, Rainer (2024). How Nations Escape Poverty: Vietnam, Poland, and the Origins of Prosperity. Forward by George Gilder. New York: Encounter Books.

Eighty years ago (on 10 March 1944) a short but hugely influential book was published: The Road to Serfdom. Written by the prominent economist, social theorist, and later Nobel laureate Friedrich Hayek. It sought to explain how a civilized country could fast descend into a warmongering, totalitarian dictatorship, as Germany had done.The book certainly caught the imagination of a world still at war. A US edition came out six months after the British publication, then in April 1945, Reader's Digest published a condensed version that brought it to a mass audience. But The Road to Serfdom is much more than an explanation of what had gone wrong in the country of Goethe and Beethoven those eighty years ago. It is also a stark warning to future ages of how easy it is to stumble down a road to serfdom of their own — and a warning to us today that we may already have taken fateful steps in that direction.Probably nobody in a liberal society intends to turn their country into a tyranny like Hitler's Germany, or for that matter, Stalin's Soviet Union. But Hayek's shocking thesis is that public policies that are introduced for the most noble of reasons can, and often do, create the conditions that make this fate more likely.  Then, by the time people have come to understand what is happening, it is already too late.Even more shocking is his firm belief that it is the pursuit of social democracy that is responsible for this result. Social democrats, and centrists of many varieties, promote policies that they hope will reduce inequality and boost social welfare. Such policies usually demand greater government control over the economic system, the use of taxation to redistribute wealth and income and compensate for other inequalities, and the establishment of a comprehensive welfare state to provide essentials such as housing, education, healthcare, and social benefits. But these initiatives all require the creation of new levers of political power, and at least some curbs on people's economic and social freedom. Once those two things are in place, they can potentially be exploited by politicians — not just those trying to make the policies work, but less scrupulous ones who dream of power. Moreover, these policies also give rise to perverse incentives and inefficiencies that stifle individual initiative and undermine the dynamism of markets. The resulting economic stagnation generates calls for yet more, and tougher, central planning and government intervention to correct things — which makes the rise of those unscrupulous politicians more likely. Historians may argue that this is not exactly what happened in Germany. Hitler's National Socialist German Workers' Party came to be seen as an antidote to the economic chaos of the late 1920s and early 1930s. But it did not have all the instruments of power presented to it on a tray. It had to seize power. But the fact that so many people thought that more government was the answer made it easier for it to do so.Nor did the United Kingdom, its government now furnished with all the power required to win a war, find itself too far down the road to serfdom to turn back. Rather, it found itself on a long road to economic stagnation, inflation, unemployment and decline that made British people yearn for the kind of post-war economic miracle enjoyed by the country they had so recently pummelled into defeat. Their journey down the road to road to privation was halted only in the 1980s, with Margaret Thatcher's reforms. Yet still, much of the apparatus of government intervention, planning and control remained in place, slowing any advance in a better direction. That — and its baleful result — is nowhere more obvious than in Britain's hugely government-heavy planning system for land and property, a post-war creation which the Adam Smith Institute reckons to cost the economy £66bn a year, or 3% of GDP. And much of the other apparatus of government control — in education, healthcare, housing, pensions, transport and insurance — is still there and still holding back innovation and enterprise.Today, that continuing dominance of government in so many parts of life is seriously eroding individual freedom. The government may not own utilities, transport or manufacturing operations anymore, but through law and regulation it still controls them. And as Hayek pointed out in The Road to Serfdom, if a government controls the economy, it controls freedom itself. How can critical ideas be advanced when the government controls the dominant media outlets? Or when it controls what people can and cannot say in public? How can critical ideas even arise when it sets the school curriculum and when college teachers — along with a fifth of the working population more generally — owe their living to the state? How can people find suitable accommodation when national and local government own a sixth of the land and control every aspect of how the remainder is used? Such a country is free only in name.Hayek believed that the apparatus of a state was needed to maintain freedom and deliver defence and justice, and essential public goods and services. And these are no small tasks. But he also realised the danger that government could so easily grow into the destroyer of individual freedom. That policies that start with noble intentions — sparing people from hostile views, for example — can turn into something repressive —such as the shutting down of free debate. The road to serfdom is a slippery downward slope. And we appear to be a long way down it.

Every Chancellor, like every Cabinet Office minister, dreams of cutting waste and reducing bureaucracy. It is surprising how few of them succeed at it. That is because you need to know how to do it, and few ministers do.Michael Heseltine MP did a reasonable job in the Thatcher and Major administration. Pretty soon the number of officials rose again. Francis Maude MP had a go for Cameron, but in that decade, officialdom grew by a quarter (conveniently put down to the problems of Covid and Brexit). Sir Jacob Rees-Mogg MP, Boris Johnson's efficiency minister, thought axing 90,000 civil service jobs — about a fifth of the total — was quite reasonable, but time, Boris and he all moved on before anything happened. The result is that we still have over half a million civil servants in government departments, and even more public servants running museums, infrastructure and all the rest. It's a nice earner, too: the proportion of civil servants in the 'Senior' grade has doubled in ten years. Whitehall has become a dense jungle of ministerial and non-ministerial departments, executive agencies, regulators, quangos, you name it, many of them with duplicated or overlapping functions. Ministers do not even know exactly how many civil servants there are. No wonder people complain about red tape.The only significant reform since the civil service was created in 1854 came under the Thatcher era. Her adviser, Sir Robin Ibbs, proposed to reduce Whitehall to just a few hundred elite civil servants who would make policy. But senior civil servants are rarely good managers, so those policies, ran the plan, would then be delivered by separate 'executive agencies' — or even outsourced to the private sector. A bit of that happened, though Whitehall remained very far from the 'few hundred' target. And as soon as Thatcher had gone, the mandarins started to rebuild their empires once again.Thatcher also culled a number of quangos, having learnt from an Adam Smith Institute report, Quango, Quango, Quango, that there were no fewer than 3,068 of them. But they again soon sprang back, until David Cameron cut a fifth of them. A waste-cutting minister might ask why we have quangos at all. (I've always advocated sending them home on full pay, waiting six months and seeing if we are actually missing any.) The quangos that execute policy should be turned into agencies. The advisory ones should be abolished: ministers can get advice whenever they like without maintaining permanent talking shops at public expense.We need to return to the Ibbs strategy, and at the same time cut all the duplication that goes on. A streamlined civil service would mean the Cabinet Office, which is supposed to run the whole show, could lose 90% of its staffing, according to management consultant Tim Ambler in his 2023 Adam Smith Institute book Shrinking Whitehall. The rag-bag Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport could also lose 90% by turning its functions into charities or industry bodies, and cutting all the overlaps. Big reductions would come from similar rationalisations at Education, the Treasury, Transport and others. So if you are looking to cut waste in government, start at the top.

Ofcom, the UK government agency that regulates the Royal Mail, has conceded that the national carrier can reduce its letter deliveries from six to possibly as few as three per week. The company was split from the Post Office and privatised a decade ago. I still have my shares in it. But in what is known as the Universal Service Obligation, it is legally obliged to deliver to anywhere in the UK for a fixed price — which, in the case of letters, is an eye-watering £1.25 for first class and 75p for second).Of course, fewer people send letters these days, preferring email for important and personal communications. So letter volumes have fallen, and the Royal Mail is hurting as a result. Ofcom says the company could save £100m-£200m by cutting deliveries to five per week, and £400-£650 by cutting them to just three per week.The British government has insisted that a six-day service should remain and that Saturday deliveries, in particular are (for some unspecified reason) "sacrosanct". And the Communication Workers Union (CWU), which represents Royal Mail staff, says the three-day delivery idea is unacceptable, would destroy Royal Mail and cost thousands of jobs.How can you privatise a company that is effectively a national monopoly of letter delivery (and, at the time, a near-monopoly in parcels delivery) only for it to get itself into debt and have to cut back its service? With a national monopoly and a national infrastructure system, you would expect it to be rolling in cash.The answer is that it hasn't really been privatised at all. Royal Mail was privatised, but it still isn't allowed to operate as a private company. Politicians insist it must charge the same to carry a postcard from Land's End to John O'Groats as it does to carry one from No.8 Acacia Avenue to No.13 Acacia Avenue. A government agency decides how much it can charge and what days and times of day it must deliver on. And the same powerful union that made the Royal Mail notoriously unreliable is still doing the same.The point of privatisation is not who owns a company. It is about setting a state-owned organization free to explore innovative ways of providing its service better, quicker, faster, and of developing new services that give consumers even greater value. When you privatise something as a monopoly, though, it has very little reason to bother itself with that.For a little while, Royal Mail relied on its lucrative parcel delivery service, Parcelforce, another near-monopoly, to keep the whole tub afloat. And yes, it is still the UK's biggest parcel carrier. But Parcelforce has had the stuffing knocked out of it by other, more nimble and innovative carriers like Hermes, DPD, Yodel, DHL and Amazon. And many customers prefer those others as being quicker and more reliable (some even nickname the Royal Mail's effort as 'Parcel-farce').There are lessons to this for the future of other state industries too. Many years ago, when we had a pro-market government, I asked the head of a US-owned international hospital provider — whose clinics and hospitals were very impressive indeed — why they didn't offer to take over and run an NHS hospital to show how it could transform the treatment and care of NHS patients. His answer was blunt: he would prefer to build a new hospital that might actually work efficiently, and hire management and staff that were steeped in the culture of customer service, rather than the gloomy culture of the NHS. And indeed, when one private company did take over an NHS hospital, though the improvements were tangible, the legacy culture eventually overwhelmed it.Since then, looking at many other state organizations has convinced me that privatising an unreformed, monopoly service is a mistake. You really have to create the conditions by which you can grow something new — something innovative, competitive and customer-focused. That was the idea of the internal market in health and education: the government still pays, so everyone can access the service, but it is provided by various independent companies or non-profits, so that customers also have the benefits of choice and competition. Of course, it wasn't long before the civil service stifled that sort of innovation by swamping the new providers with regulation. And that's a problem we have seen often, from buses to schools. But it's a problem we can solve.

In this 300th year after the birth of Adam Smith, much of the focus has been on Smith's economics, as recorded in The Wealth of Nations (1776). But Smith's ethical thinking was no less profound. Indeed, it was The Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759) that made him famous.Like The Wealth of Nations, The Theory of Moral Sentiments (TMS) was a complete break from the thinking of the time. Ethics had until then been widely assumed to be based on God's will, or the clerics' interpretation of it; or something that could be deduced through abstract reason; or even something that could be felt through some 'moral sense' like touch or vision. Smith, by contrast, argued that morality stemmed from our human nature as social beings, and our natural empathy for others. This replaced speculative thinking by scientific method. Smith maintained that by observing ourselves and others, we could discern the principles of ethical behaviour. It was a matter of psychology: how we form judgements about ourselves and others, and the influence of customs, norms and culture upon those judgements. This scientific approach was very much in line with the Scottish Enlightenment, which stemmed in part from the exchange of ideas between Scotland and England following the 1707 Act of Union, and sought to apply observation and scientific method to the study of humankind. Old hierarchies were breaking down, with industrialisation replacing Scotland's old feudal lifestyles, and with religious pluralism, leading to a more active debate on morals and virtues. New thinkers, like Francis Hutcheson and David Hume, were role models for Smith's intellectual radicalism.TMS argues that morality is rooted deeply in human psychology, especially the empathy we have for our fellow humans. By nature we understand, and even share the feelings of others. We want others to like us, and we strive to act so that they do. Even if there is no one else around to see our actions, we are still impelled to act honestly, as if an 'impartial spectator' is judging us at all time, setting the standard by which we judge ourselves and others. Every choice we have to make helps us see that standard more clearly and act according to it more consistently. All of which leads us, as if drawn by an invisible hand, to create a harmonious social order.TMS is primarily a descriptive account of human moral action. It examines how people actually make moral choices, and the pressures on them to do so. But it also provides a guide on how we can cultivate our morality, emphasising the importance of self-reflection and self-improvement.It is no exaggeration to say that TMS laid the foundations for the subsequent development of psychology, sociology and economics, helping establish them as distinct subjects of scientific enquiry. His idea that self-interested actions—wanting to be liked by others, or exchanging things we value less for others' things we value more—had a profound effect on the rise of liberal thought. Smith's approach is just as relevant today as it was in 1759. Through self-reflection, we can make better moral choices. By sharing the feelings of others, we can foster understanding between individuals and groups and create a more peaceful humanity. By understanding our shared interests we can live and work and collaborate together for the mutual benefit of us all, both in economics and in life in general.

Why do we have a bigger welfare state than is good for us?But then, before I tell you why, I'd better justify that assertion. So just take the case of my own country, the UK. Here, the government spends nearly half of everything its citizens earn—and then it borrows. And the biggest chunk of its spending goes on the three big-ticket welfare-state items: health, education and welfare (including housing). That makes the welfare state a significant cost on taxpayers. And of course high taxation is very damaging for individuals and businesses, particularly small and new businesses, while the interest payments on the government's debt raises those costs even further and reduces its scope to spend on something useful.There are also the dependency and incentive issues. With state welfare focused on the poorest, many find themselves trapped in dependency. If they try to improve their own condition, they find their benefits being reduced, often very quickly. That tapering, combined with the high taxes needed to sustain the welfare system, discourages individuals from seeking work, or moving to better-paid jobs. The result is a lower national income, and reduced labour market flexibility, leading to a fall in the productivity of the economy.State welfare is also poorly targeted and wasteful. The amount of money we spend on it could make our poorest citizens relatively rich; but much of it lingers in the pockets of those who administer the system, while much more goes to people who do not genuinely need it. Nor does it really help people out of poverty: it simply pays them cash, rather than looking at what they need in order to prosper.Moreover, state welfare crowds out more targeted and effective interventions such as private charity and philanthropy. And it suggests to taxpayers that their obligations to their fellow citizens have been dealt with for them, making them less willing to take on responsibility themselves. I could go on, but you get the picture. We all know the system is inefficient, badly targeted, bureaucratic, wasteful and often counter-productive. So why do we keep voting for it?I think the answer may lie in what economists call 'expressive choice' — as opposed to the phenomenon of 'instrumental choice'. An instrumental choice is one such as you would make in a marketplace. Perhaps you want a new coat. You go into the shops and choose one from the variety of different coats on offer. You pay your money, and your choice turns into reality—you have the new coat you wanted.Expressive choices are those such as you make in elections. The chance of your vote making an actual difference—being the single vote that decides if one candidate defeats another, or whether a referendum succeeds or fails—is miniscule. Usually, it is millions to one. So, unlike your coat transaction, you do not always get what you choose. You vote for one candidate, but another succeeds. You vote for one policy, but another is put into effect.How, then, do people respond to that? One answer is that they vote for things that make them feel good. You can vote for anything you like, because your choice is not actually going to make a difference. So, people vote for high-spending pro-welfare candidates because they see it as a way of 'helping the poor'—and indeed a way of 'helping the poor' that is absolutely costless to them (unlike the coat transaction). So why not?The trouble is that it isn't absolutely costless. The costs of all those welfare state programmes mount up, and voter-taxpayers feel the burden of it. And the inefficiencies and disincentives mount up too, which burdens them and everyone else too. I don't see any way out of this welfare ratchet in a democratic system. Perhaps we need to lay down limits on what that system is there to do, and can do and can spend. But I can't see politicians voting for that.

It's often said that recessions clear the deadwood out of an economy.We're not exactly in recession in the UK (as Germany, unfortunately, is, and as around 20 EU economies were last winter). But things are pretty bad, with high interest rates, a severe monetary squeeze and business being (to put it mildly) less than great all round. So what does that bode for the clear-the-deadwood metaphor? Are all those deadwood companies, still upright thanks only to years of ultra-low interest rates, finally going to perish and give their ground to thrusting green-shoot enterprises?Unfortunately, I think the opposite may be true.What really makes unemployment peak in economic downturns is not so much the result of established firms sacking workers. Firms never like laying people off. It looks bad, and in countries like the UK and those of the EU, tightly regulated labour markets make it hard and expensive to sack employees. A much more important factor is that downturns make firms of all sorts more cautious, and more reluctant to take on new workers (especially, again, when employment regulation makes it hard to lay them off again if that proves necessary).The result of that is that people who do lose their jobs spend longer looking for new ones, and those entering the labour market for the first find themselves competing for fewer openings, so they too join the ranks of the unemployed.But it is younger, more entrepreneurial firms which are likely to contribute most to the unemployment, because they have not yet built up the confidence, the capital and the other resources needed for them to be sure they can survive a downturn, far less expand while one is in progress. In fact, precisely because they do lack that firm foundation, a greater number of new ventures fail during downturns than do established ones.Unfortunately, therefore, the mature, deep-rooted deadwood companies are more likely to be standing at the end of a downturn than are the new, green-shoot thrusting ones. It's the very opposite of what the 'forest fire' analogy predicts.What are the policy implications of that? First, if we want to speed recovery, we have to encourage newer, smaller entrepreneurial companies and start-ups. That means keeping entry barriers (like regulations) low, but most importantly, keeping taxes on businesses and on capital low. People who are starting or trying to grow businesses always cite taxation as their biggest obstacle: they are taking big risks, probably borrowing money from friends or mortgaging their homes to invest in their new venture, and the government's tax collectors cutting themselves in for a large slice of any possible future product raises that risk even more. There is even a case for having lower taxes and regulations on small firms and start-ups, just to even up the risks when economic times are hard.Second, we need a flexible labour market, free of employment regulation that makes firms reluctant to take on workers in the first place. A large part of that is making it easier and less costly for firms to scale back employment when market conditions dictate.Only such an enterprise-friendly approach, especially a new and growing enterprise-friendly approach, is likely to keep unemployment down, strengthen government and private-sector revenues, capture the innovative capacities of entrepreneurs, and create the new, sometimes revolutionary, businesses that will pull us out of a downturn.

On this day in 1790, the great economist, moral philosopher and social psychologist AdamSmith died. The story is that he was entertaining friends at his home, Panmure House offEdinburgh's Canongate, when he felt unwell, rose and said: "Friends, we will have tocontinue this conversation in another place." He died soon after.It's a nice story, though greatly exaggerated for effect. Adam Smith's religious beliefs are amatter of debate, and it unlikely he believed in an afterlife anyway. Indeed, though he diedseventy years before Darwin's Origin of Species, he was grasping towards an evolutionaryexplanation of why human life, in economics, morality and other areas, seems to serve us ingenerally beneficial ways, without the need for any conscious direction from governmentsor anyone else. As if directed by an Invisible Hand, he wrote, though he knew there was noconscious entity moving that hand. Or Providence, he suggested. How it generated theharmony that F A Hayek would later call spontaneous order was a mystery to Smith, and tohis friend David Hume and other scholars of the age.Smith ordered that, on his death, all his papers should be burned, apart from one essay onThe History of Astronomy. It was not such an uncommon request at the time: people did notwant to be judged on the basis of their random notes and half-though-out jottings. But wewere lucky he spared The History of Astronomy, which is a remarkable essay in thephilosophy of science, advancing a trial-and-error thesis that would not be lost on thetwentieth-century author of The Logic of Scientific Discovery, Sir Karl Popper.The fact that Smith wrote on scientific method demonstrates how wide his interestsand his expertise were. As well as the economics for which he is most remembered today, he alsowrote and lectured on the use of language, on the arts, on justice, on politics and on moralphilosophy. In fact it was his first book on ethics, The Theory of Moral Sentiments, that in1759 made him internationally famous — and guaranteed him a generous income for lifethat would give him the freedom to think about economics and write his 1776 masterpieceAn Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations, which he referred to as hisInquiry, but to us is known as simply The Wealth of Nations.In this, Smith offers an explanation of why, in economics, the spontaneous order ideaworks. For centuries, people imagined that the only gainers in any economic transactionwere those who ended up with the money. But Smith noted that their customers benefitedtoo, by getting goods or services that they valued more than the cash. Indeed, the tradewould not happen unless both sides thought they were getting value from it. To maximisethe creation and distribution of value, he concluded, we need to be facilitating freeexchange — not thwarting it with protectionist measures against foreign imports ordomestic regulations on what and how people are allowed to trade.This simple 'system of natural liberty', explained Smith, was what allowed the spontaneoussociety to flourish and raised nations from poverty to prosperity. It enabled individuals tostrive to 'better their condition', and that of their families. By contrast, regulations and lawswere too often laid down by politicians and their business cronies: to promote their owninterests, most generally in opposition to the interests of the working poor.Smith would have regarded a government that controls nearly half the economy, spendingnearly half the nation's GDP — a concept that he introduced to the world on the very firstpage of The Wealth of Nations — as the greatest tyranny. Taxes, he thought, were anotherway in which established interests skew things in their favour and block potentialcompetition. Taxes, he argued, should be as low as possible, should encourage rather thanrestrict free trade and innovation, and should be simple, understandable and convenient topay. One can imagine what he might have thought of a tax code like the UK's, which islonger than The Wealth of Nations itself, and a regulatory rule book that is even longer.When economic freedom, tempered by Smith's moral virtues of prudence, justice,beneficence and self-control, has been allowed to flourish, it has led to the greatestincrease, and spread, of human prosperity. The free trade era of the nineteenth centuryenriched much of the world and brought humanity cheap food and manufactures. Theglobalisation of the twentieth and twenty-first brought nearly all nations into the worldtrading system and thereby pulled a billion people out of dollar-a-day poverty.Adam Smith's intellectual and practical legacy is plain enough. The issue is whether theworld's governments will ever stop frittering it away.

On this day in 1740, no doubt full of trepidation and excitement, Adam Smith set off from his home in Kirkcaldy, on the east coast of Scotland, to take up the 'Snell Exhibition' scholarship in Balliol College, Oxford. His time in Oxford would teach him much — though it would by no means enhance the reputation of Oxford in general and Balliol College in particular.At school in Kirkcaldy, Smith's passion for books and learning, along with his extraordinary memory, became apparent. He went on to Glasgow University at the age of 14, and studied under the great moral philosopher Francis Hutcheson – libertarian, rationalist, utilitarian, plain speaker and thorn in the side of authority. Hutcheson seems to have infected Smith with some of the same.Oxford and incentivesSmith excelled, as he had done at school, and won the scholarship to Balliol College, Oxford. In 1740, now just 17, he saddled up for the month-long horseback journey. If thriving, commercial Glasgow had been an eye-opener to a boy from backward Kirkcaldy, England seemed quite a different world again. He wrote of the grandness of its architecture and the fatness of its cattle, quite unlike the poor specimens of his native Scotland. But the English university education system did not impress him. Indeed, it gave him an important lesson on the power of incentives, which he would catalogue acidly in his great 1776 work of economics, The Wealth Of Nations.Oxford teachers were paid directly from large college endowments, not from students' fees as they were in Glasgow. It hardly encouraged their interest in their students. "In the University of Oxford," wrote Smith later, "the greater part of the public professors have, for these many years, given up altogether even the pretence of teaching."Ouch. But it got worse.College life, he observed was contrived "for the interest, or more properly speaking, for the ease of the masters." There were disciplines aplenty on the students, but not on the teachers. In his words, "Where the masters, however, rarely perform their duty, there are no examples, I believe, that the greater part of the students ever neglect theirs. No discipline is ever requisite to force attendance upon lectures which are really worth the attending, as it well known wherever any such lectures are given."From this experience, Smith drew out a general principle of economics: "It is the interest of every man to live as much at his ease as he can; and if his emoluments are to be precisely the same, whether he does, or does not perform some very laborious duty, it is certainly his interest, at least as interest is vulgarly understood, either to neglect it altogether, or, if he is subject to some authority which will not suffer him to do this, to perform it in as careless and slovenly a manner as that authority will permit."And institutes like a university, he noted, indulge each other's laziness. They "are likely to make a common cause, to be all very indulgent to one another, and every man to consent that his neighbour may neglect his duty, provided he himself is allowed to neglect his own."Smith, then, learnt little from his Oxford teachers. Yet, thanks to Balliol's world-class library and his own love of reading and learning, Smith was able to educate himself in the classics, literature, and other subjects. He left Oxford in 1746, before the expiry of his scholarship, to return to Kirkcaldy, where he began to write essays and articles that would make his reputation and launch his academic career — a career that would culminate with these insights on economic incentives and the cutting rebuke of the system that had so let him down.

I was very pleased to receive a new 'think piece' by Tom C Veblen — yes, he is related to the great Theory of the Leisure Class author, and his daughter worked at ASI for a while too. His piece is called America's Exceptional Experiment in Self-Government and it imagines a cultural and political revival of that great nation, now struggling through its self-induced cultural and political mess.Among other things, Veblen cites a guide for surviving a seaplane crash on water. When that happens, they tend to come to rest upside down, so you need to have your wits about you. You must stay calm. Grab your life vest. Open the exit and work out your escape route before releasing your seat belt. If the obvious way out is blocked, work out another before you unbuckle yourself. Don't let go until you are out. If you are underwater, follow the bubbles to the surface. Then inflate your life vest.Veblen says it's an analogy for 'getting out alive' from the wrecked political systems we have, and the more you think about it, the more apt the analogy is. You need to stay calm. Too many politicians see problems emerging — inflation, for example, leading to widespread complaints and strikes over pay, rising borrowing costs, falling house prices and soaring prices for essentials like food and energy — then rush into some 'quick fix' solution that actually makes things worse. Like huge domestic heating subsidies to households, both rich and poor, which require vast new public borrowing to finance. Or windfall taxes on oil producers alongside calls to cap energy prices, which have the effect of driving energy investment out of the country. Or capping the price of bread and milk and other basic groceries, which (as the author of Forty Centuries of Wage and Price Controls can tell you), won't work and will just lead to shortages. No quick fixes will get you out of this crash. You need to grab your life vest, the thing that's going to keep you afloat. And that life vest is what Adam Smith (whose 300th birthday we celebrate this month) called the 'simple system of natural liberty'. Make sure your money is sound, protect the basic institutions of open markets, competition, individual liberty and the rule of law. Leave people free to go their own way, and they will collaborate and boost value and progress before any government bureaucrat has even got the spreadsheet functioning.Then you need to work out your escape route. That's not always easy, as we discovered during the early 1980s, when Margaret Thatcher's government tried to roll back a bloated state. Efficiency experts were brought in, and when they left again, things reverted back to their sad normal. We needed instead to work out a way to get the all-dominating nationalised industries (utilities, communications, transport, manufacturing and all the rest) out of state protection and into the chill wind of competition. The solution to each was different, and some worked better than others. It's not easy to find your way out of a crashed state.Follow the bubbles — look at what other people round the world are doing that actually works, and do that, rather than clinging to some ideological totem pole like the National Health Service. And, when you have done all that, distance yourself from the wreckage and inflate your life vest. Deploy the system of natural liberty, and you can float free.