But events progressed. I returned to contemporary history almost five years later, in In Open Seas. It was written in a different, more personal, style from a conventional history like Not in Stormy Seas. Writing about options for the future would inevitably be influenced by my own values. I wanted to express my values while encouraging the reader to use theirs. That is where the ‘open’ in the book’s title comes from – it was to open possibilities.
I centred the book on the statement by Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern that her Labour Government would be ‘transformational’. An economic historian seizes on such a notion. Studying history continually reminds how much things change through time. They say the past is another country. Just as it is arrogant to judge another country solely in local terms, it is equally arrogant to judge other times by the present day.
Writing Not in Stormy Seas constantly made me aware that things were different in the past. Much economic activity in the past occurred outside the conventional market – including in the traditional Māori economy, in the home and in subsistence farming. Much of what we call ‘economic growth’ is about activity which shifts from outside the market to inside it. That is how exploitation of the environment and the changing market roles of women are a part of the story.
While such transformations may be obvious, almost all discussions about contemporary issues are based on the static assumption that there is little change going on. For example, many contributions to the debate on the Treaty Principles Bill assume that the participants at the Waitangi Marae 185 years ago thought in similar ways to how we think today; a surprising proportion do not seem to recognise that even in our lifetime being a Māori has changed dramatically.
Keynes said that ‘[t]here are not many who are influenced by new theories after they are twenty-five or thirty years of age’. That is why the young are more alert to environmental, identity politics and ethnicity issues; they were not as prominent when their oldies were growing up.
This inertia means that stasis government tends to be popular. The Key-English National Government may be judged has having administered New Zealand competently. But generally it was stuck in the present with little understanding that society was evolving. Hence, John Key said that one day New Zealand would be a republic and yet he reintroduced titles – he even took one himself.
Transforming New Zealand?
So Arden’s promise to be transformational was exciting. It suggested how my long economic history could be updated by drawing attention to the continuities from the past and yet how there was progression.
Spoiler alert. The Ardern-Hipkins Labour Government was not transformational. Hence the subtitle of In Open Seas: ‘How the New Zealand Government Went Wrong: 2017-2023’.
I should have been alert to the failure much earlier. Labour came into office in 2017 after nine years of intra-party strife which meant that, except in the case of some of ministers, it had done little work thinking about policy directions. Early in office it set up a series of committees of the worthy and the loyal – but hardly innovative – to give the new government policies. Their recommendations were not in a transformational direction.
Another place Labour got static policies was from the public service itself, especially those being timidly progressed under the Key-English Government. In Open Seas highlights the 2020 Public Service Act which was rammed through with the minimum of public consultation and which reduced the accountability of the public service.
Sometimes the public service outsmarted the politicians. The book details how Labour was elected with a manifesto policy of giving independence to Archives New Zealand but how the supervising Department of Internal Affairs outmanoeuvred the ministers. Subsequently, Labour gave the failed minister responsibilities after she lost her seat in 2020. The only acknowledgement of the failure was that the two associate ministers were relieved of their portfolios after the 2020 reshuffle. They were the Prime Minister and the Minister of Finance, each of whom proved less effective than a determined government department.
Consider the following three major initiatives which failed, plus one which was not even started: centralisation, co-governance, the unemployment insurance scheme and establishing a Ministry of Labour.
Centralisation
Frequently when faced with an reorganisational challenge, the Ardern-Hipkins Government chose to centralise. Examples include mergers such as Health New Zealand, for the public sector media, polytechs and three waters. It often treated local government with contempt. I say more about the issue below.
Co-governance
The story of co-governance is detailed in the book. When it was officially abandoned in the ‘policy bonfire’ of February 2023, Prime Minister Chris Hipkins said, ‘no one understands what [co-governance] means because we’re talking about quite different things’. He did not offer any alternative. A March 2023 survey found that only 17 percent of respondents said that they had ‘a good grasp on the concept’; they are likely to have offered many different grasps.
The notion of co-governance haunted the Labour Government. There was little enthusiasm for it in the Labour Party (more among the Greens and Te Pati Māori). But there was a widespread public view that Labour would reintroduce the approach if it was re-elected. It cost the party votes in the 2023 election.
The book tries to untangle the confusion, distinguishing partnership, self-government, co-management and co-governance. Here I want to draw another lesson.
The implications of Hipkins’ statement was that the Labour Cabinet and caucus adopted the co-governance policy without understanding what they were agreeing to. Does this happen often? Perhaps this ill thought-through policy only came to public light because it was so unpopular, especially as it was coupled with the three waters centralisation. It is inconceivable that the Clark-Cullen Labour Government, with its tight control of policy development would have got into such a muddle.
The Unemployment Insurance Scheme
Redundant workers were to get short-term earnings-related compensation and assistance towards finding a new job under Labour’s proposed unemployment insurance scheme. Many workers have fixed commitments – like housing outlays – that cannot be changed the day after they are laid off. Income smoothing would have given redundant workers time to adjust to their new circumstances. The upgrading of their skills – a kind of rehabilitation – would minimise their long-term income loss, and add to the competence of the labour force. Such schemes are not radical on the European continent. I was taught about them when I was an undergraduate – that was a long time ago.
The scheme also offered a path to amalgamating the two different systems New Zealand has for public income maintenance. The first is a contributory scheme with earnings-related support when need arrives. It is the principle underpinning our Accident Compensation Scheme and Kiwi Saver. It might be called ‘Woodhouse’ because it was consolidated by the 1966 Royal Commission on Accident Compensation presided over by Owen Woodhouse, although it goes back to the 1905 Workers' Compensation for Accidents Act.
The second approach is non-contributory and funded from general taxation. The entitlement to a flat-rate benefit is universal for those who belong to the appropriate category of need. The approach began in New Zealand with the Old Age Pension in 1898 and was markedly extended by the 1938 Social Security Act. Let’s call that approach ‘McCarthy’ after Thaddeus McCarthy, who presided over the 1972 Royal Commission on Social Security which consolidated it.
The two systems do not always interface well. For instance, a disability from an accident results in compensation from ACC (Woodhouse); the same disability from sickness gets considerably less generous support from social security (McCarthy).
In retirement provision, Kiwisaver is a Woodhouse approach which sits on top of McCarthy-approach New Zealand Superannuation. This might be called the (Henry) ‘Lang merger’, because the Secretary of the Treasury proposed something similar in 1974.
Redundancy support is a bit shambolic. The worker might be entitled to the unemployment benefit (McCarthy) and there may be some earnings-related lump-sum payments from the employer, which is a kind of Woodhouse scheme.
There was widespread opposition to the proposal from the neoliberal right which saw it as government intervention including a tax increase. But there was also opposition of some people on the ‘left’ (who in at least one case advised the Minister of Social Development). Their understanding of the background and history was so confused that it was difficult to know what their concerns were. It may have been that the policy was not targeted directly on the poor – if so, why not wind back other parts of the Woodhouse approach, like ACC and Kiwisaver? There was a hint that they feared the new scheme would undermine the existing McCarthy benefit system.
This need not happen. Consider a Lang-type scheme, as for the retirement provision, in which there would be a base-tier entitlement of flat-rate social security benefit (McCarthy) topped up with a contribution-based second tier (Woodhouse). This would have strengthened support for the base benefit because any reductions would have led to outrage from workers.
When I put it forward, I was told that the designers had already gone down the pure stand-alone approach analogous to ACC. It would be too difficult to merge the two schemes. If such a merger was beyond the officials’ competence, they should not have been working on developing the scheme.
The Lang-type proposal was marginal change, but it opened up the possibility of extending ACC to cover sickness, as recommended by the Woodhouse Commission sixty years earlier. That would be transformational. Instead the scheme was abandoned in the February 2023 policy bonfire. No explanation for the decision was given.
A Ministry of Labour?
The fourth example is a case of the dog not barking. Why did the Labour Government not establish a Ministry of Labour?
In 2012 the Key-English Government merged the century-old Department of Labour into the newly established mega-agency, the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (MoBIE). The logic, presumably, was the neo-liberal one that the labour market is like any other market. It is not. The labour market is greatly fragmented. Labourers do not easily substitute for brain surgeons even when they are of the same age and living in the same locality. A substantial chunk of the potential labour market hovers offshore, so immigration policy has to be integrated with domestic labour market policy. As does skills development policy. There are work and safety aspects in workers’ lives. Any system of wage determination is clunky, while workplace relations offer many regulatory challenges. Paid work is integral to the wellbeing of many adults.
This is the practical case for a separate Ministry of Labour, integrating the policy development and implementation of the various facets of the market. But the Labour Government took no action. Instead, the various components of labour market management were left scattered through MoBIE and other government agencies with little integration. Usually the immigration and workplace relations portfolios were held by the same minister, even though the two were administered separately, but Labour’s Cabinet reshuffle in June 2023 separated them (as has the succeeding Coalition Government).
The Transformational Ambition of Child Poverty Reduction
Labour promised policies which would have been transformational if they had been implemented. Consider the 2018 Child Poverty Reduction Act, which directs the government to halve child poverty over ten years.
Those involved in passing the act could not have realised how radical it was. Its goal was to reverse the impact of the Richardson-Shipley redistribution cuts of 1990 and 1991 which doubled child poverty.
While it need not be necessary to restore the pre-Rogernomics tax and benefit levels – a simpler more effective regime could be designed to halve child poverty. The relative incomes of those at the top would have been substantially reduced and that would have reduced their political power, reversing the post-Rogernomics balance of political power. Which is why the elite agrees to cutting child poverty, but does nothing about it.
Because they did not understand what they were aiming to do, the Ardern-Hipkins Government accomplished little, fiddling at the margins – whatever its benefits, providing free school lunches is not going to do much towards a counter-revolution against the neoliberal income distribution. The reductions in child poverty during the Ardern-Hipkins Government were minuscule and certainly not on the track promised by the legislation. The actual track was more like that under the Key-English Government.
The poverty lobby has been captured by warm-hearted people. It is strong on anecdotes and weak on analysis, bereft of the skills to hammer out practical policies. Anecdotes do not necessarily generalise. Focus on Māori poverty ignores that there are more non-Māori among the poor. It is such an elementary arithmetic exercise to demonstrate this, that the lobbyists must be barely numerate.
A statistic such as the proportion in poverty is not the end of an argument; it is the beginning of an investigation which ends with a policy. If there is not a causal account of poverty, it is not possible to respond effectively to it. Labour failed.
The Transformational Ambition of Focusing on Wellbeing
In his first budget in 2018, the new Labour Minister of Finance, Grant Robertson announced
We have ... signalled our intention to take a wellbeing approach to Budget 2019. ... In the past we have used GDP and traditional fiscal indicators as the only signs of success. And yet, real success means much more for New Zealand and New Zealanders. Of course, a strong economy is important. But we must not lose sight of why it is important. ... That is why our Government is making a formal change to move beyond narrow measures of economic growth and broaden the scope and definitions of progress and success.
The announcement was a new direction in thinking about government economic management. It reflects a shift within the economics profession away from an excessive focus on material income as measured by the market towards other influences on wellbeing.
It is such a fundamental issue that the opening analytic chapter of In Open Seas is called ‘Wellbeing’. It warns that the notion of wellbeing is difficult to conceptualise, to measure and to apply. Economists will tell you that GDP and its associated measures are hard to analyse. They are simple compared to wellbeing. Still, as Keynes said, it is better to pursue the vaguely right than the precisely wrong.
It is a trap to assume that increased measured GDP is inevitably a good thing. Insofar as GDP growth is the result of technical innovation, there is no certainty that the innovation will be beneficial. Virtually every significant change has had downsides. Later I shall discuss nineteenth-century industrialisation which increased material incomes. It burnt coal for energy which generated air pollution damaging people’s health and living conditions. Critically, it was necessary for public interventions to reduce the downside detriments. The Left promoted interventions to make industrialisation more beneficial. The lesson remains as true today. Economic change has to be harnessed for the public wellbeing.
Robertson described all his subsequent five budgets as ‘wellbeing budgets’. His statement introducing the 2023 budget devoted 16 of its 28 pages to the wellbeing outlook and objectives – the term is used 69 times. Yet the change was not ultimately transformational. The term ‘wellbeing’ was not used much in Labour’s 2023 election campaign.
When the incoming National Minister of Finance, Nicola Willis, presented her first budget policy statement she grumpily footnoted that a ‘2020 amendment to the Public Finance Act requires the government to state the wellbeing objectives that will guide its Budget decisions’ and made but two desultory mentions. Her 2025 Budget Policy statement identifies three traditional (and worthy) overarching goals: building a stronger more productive economy, delivering more efficient, effective and responsive public services, and getting the government’s books back in order. It added that the goals are ‘the Government’s wellbeing objectives, as achieving them is the most important contribution the Government can make to the long-term social, economic, environmental and cultural wellbeing of New Zealanders’. We are back to judging wellbeing in narrow economic terms.
Labour also seems to have lost the wellbeing plot. In her post-2024 Budget speech, Labour’s spokesperson on finance said her focus would be on household costs, small business, climate change and roads. There is a glancing mention of well-being, equating it with inter-generational issues. So Labour is back on the same dead end as National, as the Key-English Government, as the non-transformational conventional wisdom.
Why were Robertson’s wellbeing budgets not transformational? One explanation is that there was not time enough to bed in the new approach, but that does not explain the Labour retreat in opposition. Robertson kept the cards close to his chest – just between him and Treasury. There was no attempt to build a wider community consensus. I suggested to Robertson that they should have extended the Productivity Commission’s remit to cover wellbeing. (It was the only recommendation I made to him.) Even that small start was seen as a step too far.
What Is Happening to the Left?
While the Ardern-Hipkins Government was strongly aspirational in a way other recent governments have not been, it failed to deliver on its aspirations.
You might argue it was not in office long enough. How long is ‘long enough’? (In recent decades Labour has been in power for only about a third of the time. It is odd that when it is in office, the Left gives little thought to being out of power.)
You might argue, especially if you were from the right, that the aspirations were impractical. Perhaps, but perhaps they are just ahead of their time. Sixty years ago CND was demanding that New Zealand should withdraw from ANZUS and become nuclear free. Almost two hundred years ago, Chartists were demanding universal (male) suffrage, the secret ballot, equal population constituencies, the abolition of a property qualification for MPs who would be paid a salary to enable ordinary people to be representatives. Conservatives resisted the demands as impractical.
You might say that there was a failure of the Labour politicians. (This reason is popular from those who are certain they would do better.)
Critically, the Left no longer dominates the economic agenda. (Except Greenies on environment issues; the Left also remains influential in identity politics.) Nor does the traditional Right, which only claims competence to govern.
Today the economic agenda which dominates the public economic dialogue is set by neoliberals. It involves a minimisation of state involvement, including a resistance to the use of taxation and spending. Jacinda Ardern, for instance, ruled out tax increases while she was in power, a captain’s call which crippled her government’s economic policies.
Neoliberal lobby groups such as the New Zealand Initiative (born out of the Business Roundtable), the Taxpayers Unions and the Free Speech Union are extremely well organised, well funded with a wide membership base including many younger members. They are represented in Parliament by the ACT party which won a quarter of a million voted in the 2023 election,
Why are neoliberals currently so successful? The rise of the Left was a response to structural change in the nineteenth century. What has been happening in recent time to generate this vibrant movement of the right?
A Brief History of the Left
The origins of the Left go back to the capitalist-industrialisation which occurred in the nineteenth century. Industrialisation had a revolutionary impact on society and the lives of ordinary people. People working in factories meant urbanisation – often in squalid living conditions; it meant disrupting traditional social networks and the way people lived and worked. (It also changed the balance of world power.)
How to cope with the industrialisation juggernaut? One response was to return to an idealised rural Arcadia. Its best-known advocate was Pierre-Joseph Proudhon but many people voted with their feet, including those who migrated from Europe to New Zealand seeking to go farming.
A second response was revolutionary – to overthrow the social order and impose a new one. Prominent among the advocates were Marxists and hard-line anarchists.
However, the most successful approach was the evolutionary one which favoured adapting the social system so that the economic growth from industrialisation would benefit everyone. Among the most prominent in Britain at the end of the nineteenth century were the Fabians named after the Roman general Fabius, who won through persistence and wearing the enemy down by attrition rather than in pitched battles. Its logo was a tortoise.
Like those of the Chartists and CND, the Fabian demands were thought impractical. Yet they were the foundation of social democracy, becoming the conventional wisdom and their policies were largely implemented. Fabianism had a major impact on the Ballance-Seddon First Liberal Government via William Pember Reeves, New Zealand’s earliest acknowledged Fabian. Its influence continued through at least to the Savage-Fraser First Labour Government.
After that it seemed a matter of tidying up the unfinished business, as occurred under the Nash-Nordmeyer Second Labour Government and the Kirk-Rowling Third Labour Government.
About this time there evolved a view that it was possible to manage the economy, ameliorating the business cycle and accelerating inflation. The Left claimed they could do this better, because they were more pragmatic than the Right about government intervention. However, the New Zealand right is pragmatic too, and there was a convergence of policies.
One difference was that the Left thought that some groups were being left out of the rising prosperity; the Right disagreed. An examination of government spending patterns through time shows the main difference between the two was that Labour governments spent more on social security transfers. (Research sometimes confirms popular prejudices.) But the spending patterns on education and healthcare and so on were similar. (Research does not always confirm popular prejudices.)
The result of the traditional Left’s success has been that it has ceased to be a progressive force and instead became a defender of the status quo. The message is that we have made these gains against capitalist-industrialisation; they are being threatened; we are resisting.
There was a deviation from the Labour tradition when the Lange-Douglas Fourth Labour Government adopted neoliberal (Rogernomics) economic strategies. (They were continued by the Fourth National Government pursuing ‘Ruthanasia-Jennicide’.) Michael Cullen's Labour Saving explains that the Clark-Cullen Fifth Labour Government was about restoring traditional a social democrat approach.
Post-Industrialisation Society
While the industrialisation phase of modern economic growth may be over, there are other forces transforming the world. Perhaps none is individually as powerful as nineteenth-century industrialisation – I wouldn’t know because we are in the middle of it all – but collectively they are probably as significant. They include
– increasing affluence and diversity;
– the shift of the economy from the consumption of goods to the consumption of services;
– rising organisational and intellectual complexity;
– the globalisation (interconnection) of individual economies (not just trade and investment; labour mobility is a big one). The balance of international power is changing. (While New Zealand remains on the fringes, it has to accommodate to the change.);
– the rise of the financial sector, generating rising inequality at the top of the wealth distribution with political impacts;
– the increasing depletion of environmental resources;
– climate change.
The Left has some responses to these transformational drivers but frequently they amount to the reactive aim of preserving the status quo, rather than adapting and harnessing the forces to enhance wellbeing, in the way that their nineteenth century predecessors succeeded in doing. There are exceptions. Greenies, in particular, are concerned with environmental challenges. (The movement is split in the way the nineteenth century Left was: reversion, revolution, evolution.)
The Challenge of Affluent Diversity
How to react progressively to each of these forces is beyond the scope of a single article. Here I explore but one issue: growing affluence and diversity.
I am not sure whether there is today more social diversity – age, class, ethnicity, gender, life experience, and religious belief among many dimensions. But it is more challenging than in New Zealand’s past. Society can no longer operate on the assumption that what is good for white, middle-class, Protestant, straight men is good for everyone else.
One factor driving this diversity has been affluence. Today someone will, on average, have double the material income of a grandparent. (One chapter in In Open Seas wonders whether that will be true in the future.) Doubling purchasing power does not mean doubling everything. Spending on some things rises by much more, changing the shape of both consumption and society. As In Open Seas explains, affluence generates choice which generates diversity of consumption, behaviour, opportunity and display.
There is a similar story on the supply side. New physical and social technologies create new products and new ways of supplying them. No central planner can deal with the complexity.
Meanwhile, while New Zealand management may be good dealing with small organisations, it does not seem to cope well with large ones: the larger the (private and public) organisation the poorer the management (and the more serious the consequences). The solution to administering these large organisations has been generic management. In Open Seas explains why the cult has failed. As well as returning to the tradition of professional managers, perhaps no organisation should be larger than, say, 480 people – the size of a cohort in a Roman legion. That is about the number a well-embedded senior manager can know.
The Ardern-Hipkins Government was still thinking in terms of the world our grandparents grew up in, where the centre could control just about everything. It did not foster local decision making. It made centralised decisions which belonged to localities.
My Fabian background, and growing up in Christchurch, means I favour locals making local decisions. Sure, they will make mistakes – so does central government – but people value control over their destinies rather than leaving decisions to an anonymous Wellington bureaucracy. The joke is that Wellington houses a ‘ministry against local government’.
A key notion here is ‘subsidiarity’, that decisions should be taken at the lowest possible level. While it is familiar to European Social Democrats, a leading New Zealand left theorist said he was unaware of it. So it is not surprising that Labour is insensitive to the case for decentralisation.
So the Ardern-Hipkins Government reduced local involvement in its centralisation of health provision under the Health New Zealand, its mega-polytech and its Three Waters regime. It did little about vast sprawling MoBIE and the Department of Internal Affairs, ignoring the case for smaller single-focused smaller organisations such as a Ministry of Labour, Archives New Zealand and the National Library. It wanted to merge RNZ and TVNZ despite their different cultures. It reduced accountability of the public sector to the public and failed to strengthen the Official Information Act.
The strongest form of decentralisation is use of the market, so individuals make decisions about what, when and where they will consume. Historically, the Left has been sceptical about the efficacy of the market, a position reinforced by the failure of Rogernomics.
Recall Clause Four: the social ownership of the means of production, distribution and exchange. Ove fifty years ago it was argued it should be replaced by the social control of the means of production, distribution and exchange. Ownership is a means of control but so is a regulated market.
When economists advocate more-market, they do not mention that their case assumes that the income distribution, which determines the power of individuals to purchase, has to be ‘fair’. If it is not fair – a difficult concept – then an intervention limiting the market may result in a better outcome – thus the justification for many of the leftish interventions. Unfortunately, such interventions tend to accumulate until they end up with a Muldoon-type economy, where nobody has the foggiest overview of what is going on – Muldoon certainly did not. Hence the market liberalisation of Rogernomics.
The Lange-Douglas Government was captured by neoliberals who denied the importance of getting the income distribution right. Rogernomics markedly increased income inequality, preserving the incomes of the well-off at the expense of reducing the incomes of those in the middle and bottom. (Some of the poorest never recovered their incomes for twenty years.)
There is another, more subtle, requirement. Market delivery does not always work well. That is why pragmatic economists advocate ‘more-market’, not ‘all-market’ like neoliberals, who even tried to Americanise the public healthcare system, despite the American healthcare system being the least successful (and most expensive) among affluent economies.
Market design is tricky. Even modelling private markets using ‘pure competition’ may not work in New Zealand because of the size of the economy. It may be more a matter of regulating monopolistic and oligopolistic competition.
Practical income redistribution and market design are not easy. Going down that path would be transformational.
How to be Transformational
It would be misleading to blame the failures of the Ardern-Hipkins Government on the people involved. Their failures reflect the failures of the traditional Left as it has changed from being a progressive force to defending the status quo.
It had more continuities with the Key-English Government and the Luxon-Coalition Government. In opposition Labour says it will challenge the performance of the current government. It was not setting the agenda for transformation.
While we should acknowledge that there is much it has done in the past worth defending, the world has moved on. Has the Left? In Open Seas is riddled with policy directions. But they need to be put in the wider perspective of its predecessor, Not in Narrow Seas.
My economic history of Aotearoa New Zealand demonstrates that a conventional history does not make much sense if it ignores the economy as, so sadly, most of our general histories do. There is a parallel situation on the Left. It avoids engaging with economic thinking which is why it is so ineffective, why it failed to resist Rogernomics and why the Ardern-Hipkins Government has had so little impact.
I was recently rereading Fabian Essays in Socialism published in 1889; it sold 27,000 copies. I read a lot of end-of-the nineteenth-century Fabian literature in my late adolescence, but had forgotten the details – although not the general principles – after I went to university.
Rereading those essays after a long career in economics, I was struck how good the economics was. It was, of course, thoroughly out of date, because economics has advanced over the following century (as have other sciences such as medicine and physics). But it was using the frontier economics of its time. How many social democrats ado today?
Much of the Left’s economic theory is embarrassingly behind economics. It commonly claims that economics is unaware when measuring GDP of the significance of the non-market sector such as household production by women. From the beginning, economists were aware; their difficulty has been that it has not been possible to resolve the technical measurement problems (which is why although it is easy to make the criticism by ignoring the economists’ dialogue, the critics have been quite unable to progress the resolution either).
A similar thing happens with environmental depletion. Critics overlook that Thomas Mathus, the first ever professor of economics, raised it in 1798. (It why economics was called ‘the dismal science’.)
Both my books, Not in Narrow Seas and In Open Seas, make some contributions to these issues. The point here is that being dependent on a wrong and out-dated account of the economic paradigm is not going to result in transformational policy. In the nineteenth century the Left was up with the existing paradigm, today that is much less common. One of the reasons both my books set out bits of contemporary economic theory is because I want to get readers closer to the frontiers of economic thinking.
In contrast, the neoliberals are in charge. They adapt the best available theory for their ideological purposes, diminishing or omitting the bits that gets in the way of their political objectives. (This is why an economist can easily follow their analysis.) Meanwhile the majority of the neoliberals’ critics have been outmanoeuvred because they did not know the underlying theory.
I conclude with the following observation. Neoliberals were in power for only about six years, much the same period as the Ardern-Hipkins Labour Government. But unlike it, the neoliberals were transformational. That was because they knew what they were doing, including sterilising any opposition. They will be long remembered. Meanwhile the Sixth Labour Government, already having had most of its policies reversed, will be a footnote in the pages of history.