Inequality: how it happened and what do we do about it?

Inequality: how it happened and what do we do about it?

Simply voting out Donald Trump won’t do it, nor will a soft or hard Brexit. The underlying anger, disillusionment and discontent that’s manifested as a rise in populist politics and boneheaded nationalism across the world is driven by a deep-seated dissatisfaction with the status quo. There are a lot of people pissed off that the world has apparently enjoyed decades of economic growth and they still feel like they’re struggling to make ends meet.

The ’neo-liberal’ philosophy of minimising the role of government and instead allowing free enterprise to unleash the potential of unbridled market forces was adopted by Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan as the solution to another period of economic dislocation. The problem is, once the path toward recovery was established it’s been followed all the way to the other extreme, and extremes are rarely a good place.

Some 30 years after neo-liberalism was seen as saving the developed world, labour’s share of the economic pie has shrunk to 60-year lows in Australia, 70-year lows in the UK and as low as it’s ever been in the US. This has contributed to inequality hitting levels that in the past underpinned social and economic upheaval, elevating it to the current buzz-topic across developed economies globally. However, effecting the change required to even things up again requires coming up with a way to undertake significant redistribution, which is almost always via the tax system, so it will either take brave and foresightful politicians, or some kind of popular revolt.

The start of neo-liberalism: a solution for the times

When Margaret Thatcher was voted in as the leader of Britain’s opposition Conservative Party in 1975, unemployment was super low at about 4% but the inflation rate peaked at an eye-watering 27%, and, after GDP growth had hit 7% in 1973, the country was in recession with growth at -2%. It was a time when unions regularly threw their weight around and paralysing strikes would hold the economy to ransom; the so-called ‘winter of discontent’ in 1978-79 saw almost 30 million working days lost to strikes, the most since 1926, which led to the May election where the Labour government suffered an almost record defeat.

People were demanding change and the new Thatcher government took power on a platform of confronting the unions and allowing markets to flourish by getting government out of the way. After a couple of bumpy years early on, characterised by sometimes violent conflicts over strikes, between 1982 to when her government was voted out in late 1990 GDP growth in the UK averaged 3.3% per annum, GDP per capita had more than doubled, the share market had more than tripled and inflation had fallen from 18% in 1980 to 9.5% in 1990.

Times were good and Thatcher’s neo-liberal philosophies were enthusiastically embraced across the Atlantic by President Reagan, with his now legendary assault on ‘big government’ and the unshackling of corporate and market power. In 1980, the year Reagan was elected, things were grim for the US: inflation was running at 13.5%, unemployment was 7.2% and rising and the economy was in recession. By the time Reagan left office in 1989, having pursued his ‘Reagonomics’ version of supply-side economics (which argues cutting taxes and reducing regulatory burdens leads to more growth and the benefits will ‘trickle down’ from the top all the way to the bottom), inflation was 4.6%, unemployment was 5.4% and GDP had averaged 4.4% per annum since 1983. The US stock market more than doubled during Reagan’s tenure and the go-go, get rich era of the ‘80s was captured by the inimitable words of Gordon Gekko: “greed is good”.

The concentration of money and power

With such a stunning turnaround in economic fortunes, why wouldn’t you continue on the same path? If a bit is good then more has to be better, right? Across the developed world, but especially in the Anglosphere, governments continued to reduce their role in markets by cutting back regulations and selling off publicly-owned assets and enterprises, allowing companies to go on to even bigger and better things.

In the US, hand in hand with the rollback of those pesky market regulations and the increasing concentration of wealth, the ultra-rich built an increasing political influence. In the landmark, and widely criticised, 2010 Citizens United ruling the Supreme Court paved the way for unlimited political donations through “PACs”, or Political Action Committees, not only by individuals but, almost incomprehensibly, by companies as well. According to The Harvard Magazine, so-called super-PACs accounted for 22% of total donations in the 2012 presidential race, but by 2016 it was 37%. What’s more, The Washington Post reported that only 50 donors accounted for almost half the funds raised. While there are a few very high profile left-leaning billionaires, like Warren Buffett, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates and Michael Bloomberg, in a 2018 paper, academics from Columbia and Harvard concluded the vast majority of America’s top 100 billionaires quietly, but actively, support right-wing organisations. The most notorious of those are the Koch brothers, each worth an estimated $50 billion, and responsible for creating the super conservative Americans for Prosperity (AFP) group, which boasts some three million grass roots members and aggressively promotes a free market, small government agenda.

A key part of AFP’s activities has been campaigning for the emasculation of trade unions, which reaps a double harvest: it strengthens the corporate sector by dramatically improving the stability of labour markets, largely by preventing workers from being able to collectively bargain, plus it undermines one of the principal sources of funding for the Democrats and left-leaning causes. In 1983 more than 20% of US workers belonged to a union, and by 2016 it was less than 11%, and the number of private sector workers in a union had fallen to the lowest level since the Great Depression. This trend has been echoed in the UK, where by 2017 trade union membership had fallen to an all-time low and the 300,000 working days lost to strikes was amongst the lowest since records started in 1899. And in Australia union membership has fallen from 51% of all workers in 1976 to 14% today, the lowest in at least 70 years.

The Pew Research Centre writes that stripping workers of their collective bargaining power has resulted in widespread wage stagnation, with real wages for average workers in the US remaining virtually unchanged since 1979. For a stark illustration of the difference between the pre and post neo-liberal eras, between 1950-1980 real incomes for the bottom 20% of US wage-earners grew at an almost identical rate to the top 5%, but between 2000-2018, the top 10% saw five times the increase in real wages of the bottom 10%. Today in the US, the biggest companies can wield such extraordinary levels of power that 25% of workers are being subjected to non-compete clauses – even fast food workers! The Federal minimum wage has been set at US$7.25 since 1991 and we were reminded during the recent government shutdown that a 2017 survey found 78% of American workers live paycheque to paycheque, and last year a Fed survey found 40% of adult Americans would be unable to come up with US$400 in an emergency.

The story on wages reads quite similarly in Australia, where in the March quarter of 2017 labour’s share of national income fell to its lowest since 1960. Over the 12 months to the end of March 2017, Australian workers received less than 10 cents of each extra dollar in GDP that they produced, which was the slowest rate of flow through ever recorded.

The GFC – a step too far?

It’s possible a turning point came with the Global Financial Crisis in 2008, the epicentre of which lay in the American housing heartland. The finance industry, and most especially Wall Street bankers and the credit rating agencies, screwed up monumentally; outright greed, combined with negligence and fraud, culminated in a near death experience for the world’s financial system. The only way to save it was using the public purse – taxpayers’ money – to bail out the private banks, starting in the US, where the 2009 budget deficit blew out from an original forecast of US$407 billion to eventually hit US$1.4 trillion (these days the word trillion gets thrown around a fair bit and it’s easy to become a bit blasé about it, but to put that amount of money into its mind blowing perspective, one billion seconds is just short of 32 years, one trillion seconds is just short of 32,000 years).

And no sooner was the US economy off life support than Europe took its place with its ‘sovereign bond crisis’, thanks to a combination of either over-indebted governments that had gorged themselves on apparently cheap debt in vote-buying public spending campaigns, or governments that became over-indebted because they felt they couldn’t afford not to bail out private sector banks and property companies teetering on the edge of collapse.

Those people entrusted with the stewardship of entire countries had overseen a gargantuan mess and seemed to be making things up as they went. The result: economies all over the world were slammed into reverse, in 2009 US GDP growth fell to -2.8% and unemployment hit 10%, and EU growth was -5.4%, with unemployment eventually hitting 11% in 2013, while Spain and Greece both reached unemployment rates of 27%.

But despite plenty of evidence, and hundreds of candidates, nobody was found culpable for the greatest financial disaster in three generations. Although US banks were fined and had their lending wings clipped, Wall Street bonuses were back at record levels within a few years. What’s more, the remedy used to keep the markets from falling even further, where central banks from the US, Europe, Japan and the UK pumped unprecedented amounts of liquidity into the financial system, inflated the value of all kinds of assets, from shares, to property, to art collections, to fancy number plates – the kinds of things already wealthy people own.

Is it any wonder the average person was left feeling the system is rigged?

The growth, and growth, and growth of inequality

Inequality has become the topic du jour, but it’s worth revisiting some of the numbers. In the three decades after World War 2 the US enjoyed one of its strongest periods of economic growth as manufacturing took root and blossomed across the country. Households greedily consumed all the new-fangled appliances and most of them were “Made in the USA”, everything from washing machines, to televisions, to cars. An endless string of new factories provided well paid jobs for unqualified workers, and as the nation got richer, everybody benefited.

Then once neo-liberalism took hold things started to change. The US Congressional Budget Office found that between 1979-2011 the ‘market income’ for the bottom 80% of workers grew by 16%, or less than 0.5% per year; for the next 19% incomes grew three and a half times faster, at 56%, and for the top 1%, incomes grew almost 11 times faster, or 174%. In 1965, the average CEO earned 20 times the wage of the average worker, and by 2018 that number had exploded to 361 times for the CEO of an S&P500 company.

But that’s just income, the richest people also own lots of assets, often interests in companies, and the value of those assets has rocketed as well, especially since the GFC. In 1979 the top 1% in the US owned 24% of the total wealth and by 2012 that had increased to 42%, so not far off doubling. But what is far more telling, the share of wealth owned by the top 0.1% had sat around 10% for most of that glorious post-war period and bottomed out in (you guessed it!) 1979 at 7%, but then more than tripled to 22% by 2012! See chart 1.

 

Chart 1: The Top 0.1% wealth share in the United States, 1913-2012
Inequality how it happened and what do we do about it_chart1

But it’s more than just a US phenomenon. By 2017 the UK’s top 10% of income earners had increased their share of national income by 50% while all the other cohorts fell, and according to Oxfam, by 2016 the top 1% of UK households held 29 times as much wealth as the bottom 20%.

Australia is just as bad: according to Oxfam Australia’s top 1% has more wealth than the bottom 70% – see chart 2, and it has been growing over the past 20 years, while the bottom 50% has been steadily declining and now sits at 9%, the greatest wealth gap in generations.

 

Chart 2: Australian wealth distribution in 2018
Chart 2: Australian wealth distribution in 2018

Chart 3: Share of wealth in Australia held by the top 1% vs bottom 50%
Chart 3: Share of wealth in Australia held by the top 1% vs bottom 50%

And perhaps the most stunning stats of all: in Oxfam’s annual wealth report released to coincide with the Davos conference in January, they concluded the 26 richest people in the world have as much wealth as the poorest 3.8 billion, while in 2016 it took the top 61 billionaires. Fully 82% of the wealth created in 2017 went to the top 1%, and in 2018 their wealth increased by 12% while the bottom half’s went down by 11%.

What do you do when the status quo isn’t working for you anymore?

It can hardly come as a surprise that people started pushing back against the status quo that hasn’t been working for them for decades. It may well have helped Barack Obama get elected on a promise of hope; a promise of building a bridge to cross the political divide that would deliver radical changes; but promises that were ultimately choked by even greater partisan politics.

By the time Trump came along talking about how he’s going to ‘drain the swamp’, the contempt for politics as usual translated into embracing an iconoclast who didn’t talk like the others, and, even better, wasn’t a product of the same political machine. On the other side Bernie Sanders, the Democrat candidate who lost the nomination to Hilary Clinton, captured similar support despite being a self-described socialist. Both managed to push the right hot buttons, albeit in obviously different ways: Sanders talked about improving things for people by redistributing wealth away from the 1%, while Trump appealed to a nostalgia for when America was the undisputed champion and promised to improve peoples’ lives by bringing the factories back home and stopping immigrants from taking their jobs. It didn’t matter they were promises he could never keep, what mattered was he used simple messaging to reassure them he would challenge the status quo.

And so the thirst for change has rolled on, with voters seduced by messages of either radical change to make things better and fairer, like Brexit, or nationalistic scapegoating, like Turkey, Hungary, Poland, Italy, Austria, Sweden, The Philippines and Brazil.

The Shakespearean drama that has been Australian politics over the past five years (or longer) has in part been swept along by similar winds of change. The same resentment of the status quo has given rise to a cluster of far-right parties whose dog-whistle populism threatens to gain such traction in marginal seats that Malcolm Turnbull’s antagonists felt they had to try to outflank them, only to find their misreading of the broader public’s tolerance for screwing with the will of the people was as appalling as their inability to count party room votes.

At some point Australian politicians might realise the quality voters are desperate for is authenticity: the ability to answer a question without sticking to a message; to admit that not everything the other side says is automatically wrong; to acknowledge that compromise can mean progress rather than weakness.

The answer… is going to be hard

Simply voting Trump out of office, or changing all the right wing governments for left wing, or holding politicians to a higher standard won’t solve the underlying problems caused by growing inequality. Ultimately that requires redistribution, and that can only be done through the tax system. Obviously the chance for people to get rich is kind of essential to how capitalism works, but tax is the price we pay for living in a modern democracy where the government is responsible for providing a host of essential services. It’s a question of finding the right balance.

Understandably tax sets off a pretty visceral response in most people, especially those on the top Australian tax bracket who see 47% of their earnings taken out every month, already a high rate by international standards. But perhaps it won’t come as a surprise that over the period when inequality has widened, governments across the developed world have been reducing the top rate of both personal and corporate income tax, with the average top personal rate falling from 62% in 1970 to 38% in 2013 – see chart 4. Oxfam writes in its 2019 report on inequality:

As recently as 1980, the top rate of personal income tax in the US was 70%, whereas today it’s almost half that, at 37%. When you also account for the numerous exemptions and loopholes, the rates the super-rich and corporations actually pay are lower still. As a result, in some countries the richest people are paying the lowest rates of tax in a century. In Latin America, for example, the effective tax rate for the top 10% of earners is just 4.8%. In some countries, when taxes paid on income and consumption (like our GST) are both considered, the richest 10% are paying a lower rate of tax than the poorest 10%.

Chart 4: The declining tax rates for top income earners and companies
Chart 4: The declining tax rates for top income earners and companies

Before high income earners scream “not more bloody taxes!”, there is a far better target for their anger: it’s estimated the super-rich are hiding at least US$7.6 trillion from the tax authorities, avoiding an estimated US$200bn in tax revenues. Similarly, multi-national corporations exploit loopholes to avoid paying billions in tax as governments around the world have jostled for position as the lowest taxing country for big companies. Last year Apple reported Australian sales of $8 billion, and, after the money went through a merry-go-round of transfer pricing, a gross profit of $255 million. That works out to a gross margin of about 3%, compared to the average gross margin it reported to the US stock exchange over the four quarters to March 2018 of 38%. The $77 million of tax Apple paid in Australia amounted to less than 1% of turnover. That is not an isolated incident, again, according to Oxfam:

For four consecutive years since 2013-14, more than one in three of Australia’s largest corporations have not paid any taxes in Australia – and 281 companies have not paid a cent in tax for all four years.

This reduction in company tax has very real consequences for a country’s budget. Chart 5 shows the impact the ill-timed US corporate tax cut is expected to have on government revenues, it’s $150 billion that has to be made up from somewhere else.

 

Chart 5: Cutting the US corporate tax rate has a very real impact on government revenues
Chart 5: Cutting the US corporate tax rate has a very real impact on government revenues

None of what these companies is doing is illegal, but as long as it goes on, governments have to find other ways to plug the giant hole in tax revenue required to run the hospitals, pay the nurses, teachers and firemen, build roads and bridges and pay pensions – all the things expected of a modern, democratic society. The problem is, if they can’t tax companies, then wage earners are the obvious and easiest targets to come after simply because they have far fewer places to hide. So if you don’t want have an even greater tax chunk taken out of your monthly wages, you’d better hope sense prevails with respect to company taxes.

Are we seeing the early signs of change?

Clearly inequality is now commanding a great deal of the political debate, but until recently there hasn’t been a lot of coverage on how to address it. Five years ago, Thomas Piketty caused waves with his book about inequality over the ages, but perhaps not surprisingly an 814 page tome by a French economist with the catchy title of Capital in the Twenty-First Century never really hit the main stream.

That appears to be changing. Elizabeth Warren, one of the almost 30 contenders for the 2020 Democratic Presidential nominee, has proposed a headline grabbing ‘wealth tax’ of 2% per year on those with more than US$50 million in wealth, and freshman congresswoman, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, caused conservative commentators’ heads to spin when she recently expressed support for a 70% tax on income above US$10 million per year (by the way, if you haven’t seen her recent dissection of the diabolical state of US politics you really should). Also, Dutch historian Rutger Bregman’s admonition to get serious about tax at last month’s Davos Conference went viral, catapulting him to international in-demand radio and talk show guest.

Re-empowering labour is another step, though it’s in nobody’s interest for a return to the excesses of the 1970s. Sir Angus Deaton, Professor of Economics at Princeton, who won the 2015 Nobel Prize for his work on inequality, acknowledges trade unions are economically inefficient insofar as they stop GDP being maximised, but the extreme alternative is that all the benefits of GDP growth accrue to the owners of the capital – also a recipe for disaster. Again, it’s a question of finding the right balance.

Inequality is an issue for our times (amongst others) and finding a solution will be devilishly complex. It’s taken almost 40 years to have lurched from one extreme to the other, so it’s unlikely anything will happen quickly. As we approach an election here in Australia and the US presidential race starts its amazingly long run up, it would hardly be surprising if inequality assumes a higher and higher profile, leaving the obvious question: what are you going to do about it?

This is what long-term political (and financial) thinking can look like

This is what long-term political (and financial) thinking can look like

It’s getting hard to find someone who isn’t despairing of politicians, of all stripes, who can’t seem to see past the next election cycle. Time after time self-interest and holding on to power take priority over long-term planning, and it’s not just in Australia. But there is at least one country that stands out as an example of politicians playing the long game in doing the right thing by their country and future generations.

Norway has long been blessed with politicians that think ahead. As long ago as the 1960s there was active debate that introducing a national insurance scheme without securing its future funding would unfairly burden future generations. So, with the best of intentions, in 1967 the government established the Government Pension Fund. It was a flop: the fund was restricted to investing in bonds and the government was allowed to raid it to help fund programs such as public housing and regional industrial development. By the late 1970s there was very little new capital being invested into the fund, and even today, it is only worth about US$30 billion.

However, Norway has also been blessed with an enormous endowment of oil, so it’s currently Europe’s biggest petroleum producer and the world’s seventh largest oil exporter, accounting for about 25% of the country’s GDP.

By the early-1980s Norway had been enjoying well over 10 years of strong oil revenues when the government came to two important realisations: one, if they kept spending all the oil revenues as they came in they would fall victim to the so-called ‘Dutch disease’, where one sector of the economy grows so strongly that it sucks the oxygen out of other sectors; and two, spending all the revenue today means future generations are deprived of the benefits of this one-time resource endowment.

In 1983 a committee proposed the creation of a fund that would look after the oil revenues, but even Norway isn’t immune to the political process. It took until 1990 for the government to pass a law establishing the Government Petroleum Fund (now called the Government Pension Fund Global), then it took another six years of working out the rules before the fund was seeded.

Critically, the pollies managed to agree that every kroner of the government’s oil licensing and tax revenues (by the way, oil companies pay 78% tax on net profits: 27% company tax and 51% resource extraction tax, and they’re still lining up to play) would be channelled into the fund and the parliament’s fiscal rules allow the government to spend the fund’s inflation adjusted return each year, which is expected to be about 4%, but they can’t touch the principal. Also, because they wanted to avoid juicing the domestic economy, the fund is only allowed to invest internationally.

In 1996 the Norwegian government kicked the fund off with a US$255 million injection, and the fund has now grown to be the biggest sovereign wealth fund in the world, worth more than US$1 trillion, or almost US$200,000 for every man, woman and child in the country – see chart 1. After starting very conservatively and only investing in bonds, it can now invest in equities and property. In fact, this one fund owns an estimated 1.3% of the world’s shares!

 

Chart 1: the growth of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global
Chart 1: the growth of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global

Interestingly it took until 2016 for the government to withdraw any of the funds, and one of the country’s national newspapers estimates there has been a total of US$780 million withdrawn in total. With the strong rise in oil prices in 2017 the government has stopped any further withdrawals for now. In other words, there is a culture of long-termism.

Australia

In 2003 the Chinese government ramped up spending on fixed asset investment and kicked off the biggest commodities boom in generations – see chart 2.

 

Chart 2: commodity prices took off in 2003 when China ramped up fixed asset investment
Chart 1: the growth of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global

This had a remarkable effect on the Australian economy, starting with the Terms of Trade, which is effectively a measure of the relative strength of export prices compared to imports, and which hit a 140-year high – see chart 3.

 

Chart 3: Australia’s Terms of Trade hit a 140-year high thanks to the commodity boom
Chart 1: the growth of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global

Likewise, Australia’s GDP started rocketing up from 2003 – see chart 4.

 

Chart 4: Australia’s GDP also took off thanks to the commodities boom
Chart 1: the growth of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global

In fact, Paul Cleary wrote in his book, Too Much Luck, that in the three years before the GFC “the federal government’s coffers swelled by $334 billion in additional revenue”. However, in terms of putting money away for future generations from the one-off harvesting of the nation’s mineral resources, well, there’s not a whole lot to show. Cleary estimates the Howard government spent 94% of the commodities boom windfall during its tenure, then the Rudd government spent more than $100 billion trying to stave off recession during the GFC, leaving the government in debt, which has only increased since.

Peter Costello did establish the Future Fund following the 2004 federal election, but more than half the original $27 billion of principal contributions came from the government’s Telstra holding as opposed to reinvesting resources revenue, and its stated purpose is to fund public sector superannuation liabilities. And barely three years after it was set up the Rudd-led Labor opposition announced it would withdraw $2.7 billion from it. Fortunately, strong investment returns have seen the fund grow to about $150 billion now, but on a per capita basis, the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global is 33 times the size.

Mining comprises 8% of Australia’s GDP and about 60% of its exports and 83% of the companies doing the mining are foreign owned. At the moment there’s no explicit plan to capture any of the current revenues for the benefit of future generations, since all the recent attempts to impose any kind of specific mining tax have been shot down. The Rudd Government tried to introduce the 40% Resource Super Profits Tax (RSPT), which prompted the resources companies to launch a $22 million advertising campaign to stop it. Ten weeks later Kevin Rudd was replaced by Julia Gillard in June 2010 and one of the first things she did was scrap the RSPT and replace it with the Mineral Resources Rent Tax (MRRT), which levied a 30% tax on resource company profits above $75 million. Then the MRRT was abolished by the newly elected Abbott government after the 2013 election.

Australian politics has just been through another episode of astonishingly shameful political short-termism. We can only hope our politicians pay attention not only to what exasperated voters are telling them but to the positive examples being set elsewhere in the world, like Norway.

Bad calls by billionaires

Bad calls by billionaires

Paul Tudor Jones tripled his money in 1987 by correctly calling the October crash and he’s now a billionaire running one of the best known hedge funds in the world. So you’d probably pay attention to what he says about stock markets. However, he can be just as wrong as anyone else.

In April of last year Bloomberg ran an article describing a chorus of high profile hedge fund managers who were all bearish on equities, including:

  • Paul Tudor Jones: US stock valuations were trading at unsustainable levels not seen since the 2000 dotcom crash; central bankers should be “terrified”.
  • Scott Minerd of Guggenheim Partners: expected a “significant correction” in 3Q 2017.
  • Phillip Yang of Willowbridge Associates: forecast a crash of 20-40% last year.
  • Larry Fink of BlackRock: thought prices would fall 5-10%.
  • Seth Klarman of the Baupost Group: quoted insider selling by company executives as a sign that valuations had become excessive.

All the managers are super smart and the arguments sounded perfectly reasonable: record levels of margin debt, the S&P 500 hitting new records while the PE ratio of 22 was at 10 year highs, the S&P 500’s total market capitalisation as a proportion of US GDP was at the highest since the dotcom boom, and the Fed raising interest rates would mean fewer buybacks.

Yet since the date of that article the S&P 500 has risen more than 19%. In fact, the MSCI World Index is up by 16%, and within that Japan is up by 29%, EM by 25% and even Europe rose by 9%. Overall it was a great year.

The S&P 500 has gone on to hit 63 new all-time highs since then and is now trading on a PE of 26.2 times.

Even the great George Soros was quoted as being bearish on US equities all the way from 2600 to 3500 on the S&P 500.

Human nature is such that we crave certainty; there’s a part of our brain that struggles to deal with randomness, which is much of what drives financial markets in the shorter term. Certainly billionaire traders don’t become billionaires for nothing, but there is yet to be a perfect crystal ball.

A picture speaks a thousand words…

A picture speaks a thousand words…

Sometimes it’s easier to see things in pictures and the charts below give a basic but effective illustration of just what a purple patch most of the world’s major economies are in right now. After years of post-GFC stimulation, sweating over potential sovereign bond defaults, stressing about deflation and fretting about the risks of populist politics, basically all the charts are heading in the right direction at the moment… except maybe Australia’s.

They tell a reasonably consistent story of slow but positive GDP growth and strong consumer sentiment – what should be good conditions for financial markets.

 

US

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart1v2
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart3

European Union

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart4
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart5

Japan

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart6
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart7

China

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart8
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart9

Australia

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart10
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart11

UK

A picture speaks a thousand words_chart12
A picture speaks a thousand words_chart13

One thing to remember about charts: they’re great for showing where we’ve been, but they don’t necessarily tell us where we’re going.

What do lousy retail sales figures mean for share investors?

What do lousy retail sales figures mean for share investors?

Last week’s August Australian retail sales figure was a clanger, with seasonally adjusted spending dropping by 0.6% from July, which in turn had dropped by 0.2% from June. Given consumer spending makes up about 60% of Australia’s GDP the news set economists racing to downgrade their September quarter GDP forecasts. Should investors be worried? That can be answered with a resounding yes, and no.

The first thing to notice about the retail sales numbers in the chart below is that, on a month to month basis, they are fairly volatile: while August was the lowest reading for three and a half years, only four months earlier April was the highest in two and a half years. What is more concerning though is the trend over the past few years, as shown by the blue year on year line, is definitely downwards.

 

Chart 1: monthly retail sales are volatile but the trend is downwards
Chart 1: monthly retail sales are volatile  but the trend is downwards

Why is that? It’s not difficult to come up with a bunch of reasons why we shouldn’t be all that surprised retail sales are on the weak side. For a start, wages growth is at a 25 year low at 1.9% for the 2017 financial year, which is bang on what inflation came in at. So with zero ‘real’ increase in wages (that is, after inflation), we can hardly expect a spending spree.

Add to that household debt being at an eye watering all-time high of 194% of GDP and it’s easy to see where families are putting their cash. Then there’s the added pressure of energy prices rising anywhere between 10-20% from 1 July, plus thousands of retail and hospitality workers losing penalty rates from the same date.

So you could ask yourself how it is Australia managed to record retail sales growth at all. It appears that at least part of the answer to that is households reducing the amount they save, as shown in chart 2.

 

Chart 2: household savings are falling at a faster rate than retails sales are growing
Chart 2: household savings are falling  at a faster rate than retails sales are growing
Source: ABS National Accounts, June 2017

Household savings rates shot up to 11% during the GFC and have now dipped below 5% as households juggle bigger and bigger mortgages. For the halving we’ve seen in savings over the past three years there’s been about a 10% increase in retail spending. Again, that shouldn’t be a surprise: increasing debt is simply bringing forward consumption from tomorrow to today.

So why were economists taken by surprise? For a start, unemployment has been declining steadily over the past few years from 6.3% to 5.7%. That’s got to be good news, right? Well, again, it’s yes and no: more people have work but over the same period the underemployment rate, that is people not getting as much work as they want, has also gone up – see chart 3.

 

Chart 3: unemployment is going down but underemployment is going up
Chart 3: unemployment is going down  but underemployment is going up

So if retail spending is on the low side why hasn’t the market tanked? First, the biggest reason is that historically there is no correlation at all between retail sales and the stock market. Just like, surprisingly, there is no correlation between GDP growth and the stock market. That’s evidenced by the ASX200 having gone up 10.1% since retail sales started trending downwards from January 2014 (29.7% including dividends).

Likewise, in the U.S. retail sales have gone up by a cumulative 0.3% in the seven months to the end of August, yet the market has risen 4.6% over the same period, hitting new all time highs along the way.

The takeaway for investors is that, like any single data point, soft retail sales never sounds good and may indeed be a signal that things aren’t so great in the economy, but when it comes to financial markets it’s only a small piece of the puzzle.