Category: economic thinking

Race, College Admissions, Harvard & Opportunity Costs

Reading this article in the Chronicle of Higher Education about the on-going affirmative action lawsuit against Harvard, this line (buried deep in the article) jumped out at me:

An applicant’s race, they [Harvard admission officials] said, can help, but not hurt, his or her chances of admission.

Earlier in the article, the author pointed out that Harvard has 37,000 applicants for 2019, 8,200 with perfect GPAs, 2,700 with perfect verbal SAT scores, but only 1,700 spots to offer entering students.

If you’re a student of opportunity costs, you immediately see the problem: It is impossible for an applicant’s race to “help, but not hurt,” the applicant’s chance of admission to Harvard.

If one applicant’s race helps that student’s chance for admission, it reduces the number of slots remaining available for other applicants. If an applicant’s race does not help them, their chances of admission–all else equal–are lower because there are fewer slots available. In other words, it’s hurts the chances of “not helped” applicants because there is a limited number of total slots.

The Harvard admission officials’ comment could only be true if there was no limit on the number of students offered admission. With no admissions cap, admitting one more student with “Attribute A” would have no consequence for the admission of applicants without “Attribute A.” Capping admission makes slots a scarce resource, which means there is an opportunity cost of offering a slot to any one person in the form of fewer remaining slots for others. Consequently, any criteria that advantages one (group of) applicant(s) necessarily hurts the chances of an applicant not matching that criteria–including race.

So in Harvard’s case, if race helps anyone, it must hurt others. By definition. Because opportunity costs.

The Case for Doing Nothing About Common Ownership

“Common ownership,” the case of investors owning shares in more than one company–specifically, in shares of companies that compete in the same industry–is currently a hot topic in the antitrust arena. In particular, the alleged effects of common ownership on industry competition are receiving a lot of attention.

Einer Elhague, in the Harvard Law Review, proclaimed “[a]n economic blockbuster has recently been exposed.” Eric Posner, Fiona Scott Morton and Glen Weyl, in the Antitrust Law Journal, assert that “the concentration of markets through large institutional investors is the major new antitrust challenge of our time.”  These claims are based on a handful of empirical studies claiming to have identified a causal relationship between the degree of common ownership and such competitive yardsticks as airline prices, banking fees, executive compensation, and even corporate disclosure patterns.

Of course, such a blockbuster antitrust challenge deserves an aggressive policy response, ideas for which both Elhague and Posner, et al., are more than happy to provide.

However, it’s not so clear that the problem is as big as suggested–if it exists at all. It’s also not clear that the proposed policy solutions would make anyone better off (except perhaps antitrust law “experts”)–and could possibly make many people worse off.

Thom Lambert and I recently posted a new paper that takes on both the claims of a major problem and the proposed solutions. In The Case for Doing Nothing About Institutional Investors’ Common Ownership of Small Stakes in Competing Firms, we explain the problems with the problem itself–both the theoretical logic and the empirical evidence–and the problems with the proposed policy responses.  Over the next several days we’re going to unpack those arguments over at Truth on the Market. Thom already made the introductory post that goes into a bit more detail on the issue.

If you’re interested, I encourage you to click over to TOTM and read the posts there. Once we’re done, I’ll post a summary and set of links to each of them here. For now, the abstract of our paper is available below:

Recent empirical research purports to demonstrate that institutional investors’ “commonownership” of small stakes in competing firms causes those firms to compete less aggressively, injuring consumers. A number of prominent antitrust scholars have cited this research as grounds for limiting the degree to which institutional investors may hold stakes in multiple firms that compete in any concentrated market. This Article contends that the purported competitive problem is overblown and that the proposed solutions would reduce overall social welfare.

With respect to the purported problem, we show that the theory of anticompetitive harm from institutional investors’ commonownership is implausible and that the empirical studies supporting the theory are methodologically unsound. The theory fails to account for the fact that intra-industry diversified institutional investors are also inter-industry diversified and rests upon unrealistic assumptions about managerial decision-making. The empirical studies purporting to demonstrate anticompetitive harm from commonownership are deficient because they inaccurately assess institutional investors’ economic interests and employ an endogenous measure that precludes causal inferences.

Even if institutional investors’ commonownership of competing firms did soften market competition somewhat, the proposed policy solutions would themselves create welfare losses that would overwhelm any social benefits they secured. The proposed policy solutions would create tremendous new decision costs for business planners and adjudicators and would raise error costs by eliminating welfare-enhancing investment options and/or exacerbating corporate agency costs.

In light of these problems with the purported problem and shortcomings of the proposed solutions, the optimal regulatory approach — at least, on the current empirical record — is to do nothing about institutional investors’ commonownership of small stakes in competing firms.

An Open Letter to President Trump

Eighty-eight years ago on the third of May, 1,028 economists signed an open letter to Congress to oppose the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act, explaining that protectionist tariffs are harmful to the U.S. economy. On May 3, 2018, over 1,100 economists (including yours truly) signed an open letter to President Trump and Congress expressing concern about the President’s threatened (and enacted) trade tariffs–using substantially the exact same letter that was sent 88 years before. That is because–and to illustrate that–the basic economic principles have not changed. Protectionist tariffs harm consumers, harm a large majority of producers, and harm the economy overall .

The letter has been covered by a variety of news sites, including:

The Smoot-Hawley Act is generally viewed as having contributed to the severity of the Great Depression, despite Congress’s (misguided) intent. While the modern economic environment is not necessarily in as fragile a state as it may have been in 1930, and the extent of the implications may not be as severe, the current administration’s threats of trade restrictions nonetheless risk a dampening of economic activity and reduced social well-being.

This is the kind of thing that happens when people don’t pay attention to history.

Or even pop culture…

The Labeling Problem

(Part 1 of 2)

“Labeling” is a big thing these days. After all, as I hope you have concluded if you’ve read many (any?) of my previous posts, information (or lack thereof) is one of the biggest challenges for an effective market-based economy. But does that mean “labeling” is necessarily a good thing?

I bet you thought I was going to talk about food, didn’t you? A little bit, but first…

The university where I work has a “Writing Intensive” requirement for which students must take at least two courses that are designated as “writing intensive” or WI. WI courses have to be approved as satisfying certain criteria, including a minimum number of pages of revisions and a significant portion of the overall grade being based on students’ writing. It’s largely up to the instructor as to whether to apply for the WI designation in any particular course.

Naturally, not all students are thrilled about taking WI courses that actually require them to write, in real English, with some evidence of proper grammar and structure and all those nasty, time-consuming details. (Like OMG uv got 2 b kidding!)

Some students complained about unwittingly enrolling in courses that were WI. You know, because heaven forbid they end up in a class that requires writing they could have avoided. Professional advisors and administrators concurred, and contrived a labeling scheme to make it clear that a course is approved as WI–because the language in the course description itself was apparently insufficient. (Perhaps the dislike for writing stems from a dislike for reading as well.) Now courses have to be reviewed and approved in time to be listed in the course catalogue for registration the following semester so the course number can be affixed with a W on the end (e.g., ABM 4971W vs ABM 4971).

But this course designator has created a different kind of problem: Students are now upset anytime a course without a W on the number includes any substantive amount of writing.

The presence of a WI label changes students’ expectations and perceptions
about all courses, not just WI courses.

And this is part of the problem in the larger ‘labeling’ debates we face as a society. When we add information on labels, it doesn’t just provide information; it shapes consumers’ perceptions not just of the labeled product, but of all similar products. This is especially true for mandatory labels for attributes that consumers do not fully understand and for which consumers’ personal valuations are more subjective and varied.

Take foods containing genetically modified (GM), or genetically engineered (GE), organisms, for instance. Survey results suggest that a majority of US consumers has little knowledge or understanding about what GM foods are (for instance, see here and here), never mind the fact that a consensus report from the National Academy of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine (p. 2) “found no substantiated evidence that foods from GE crops were less safe than foods from non-GE crops.”

Notwithstanding that lack of knowledge, a large majority of consumers, if asked, will agree with the idea that consumers have a right to know what’s in their food and that GM content should be labeled. Kind of like college kids who object simply to the idea of writing. That said, only a small percentage of consumers (1 in 6) actually care deeply about having that information themselves.

Despite the value of more information, GM labeling runs a couple different risks. First, if food products containing GMOs are required to be labeled as such, most all food would carry the label because most prepared foods contain products derived from soybeans and corn, which are predominantly grown using GM biotechnologies. If everything in a store carries the same ‘warning’ label, the label doesn’t convey any relative information. That is, it doesn’t help distinguish between products. In fact, it would be harder to find the products without the label. Imagine students scrolling through the 90%+ of courses marked “Not WI” in order to find the 10% that are WI. A “GMO-Free” label, on the other hand, would communicate more effectively by standing out relative to other products.

Second, even with a (voluntary) “GMO-Free” label, the label itself implies that GMOs are bad by comparison, just like having WI courses marked “W” seemingly implies courses without “W” don’t involve much writing. In that case, the label actually misinforms consumers, or at least misleads them, relative to the science of GM foods and their safety (or to instructors’ pedagogy, as the case may be).

The presence of a GM label changes consumers’ expectations and perceptions
about all food products, not just the ones labeled.

Having labels that misinform or mislead consumers, whether explicitly or implicitly, defeats the purpose of labeling to begin with, and is therefore an ineffective policy tool. There is also the issue of what is an economically sensible policy for providing information in the market place, even if labeling were to be effective. Stay tuned for a follow-up post on that.

Legalized Price-Fixing in Public Construction?

Imagine you wanted to have your house painted, remodeled, or even have a new house built, but all the contractors had agreed to charge the same prices. What if your local government passed a law requiring you to pay the same price no matter which contractor you chose? Sound like a good idea?

For over 100 years, US antitrust law has prohibited sellers from conspiring to fix prices. According to the US Federal Trade Commission’s “Guide to Antitrust Laws” price fixing is defined as:

“…an agreement (written, verbal, or inferred from conduct) among competitors that raises, lowers, or stabilizes prices or competitive terms. Generally, the antitrust laws require that each company establish prices and other terms on its own, without agreeing with a competitor. When consumers make choices about what products and services to buy, they expect that the price has been determined freely on the basis of supply and demand, not by an agreement among competitors. When competitors agree to restrict competition, the result is often higher prices. Accordingly, price fixing is a major concern of government antitrust enforcement.”

Compare that first line to the following language:

“…a wage of no less than the … wages for work of a similar character in the locality in which the work is performed shall be paid to all workmen employed…”

One might think that sounds like an agreement to “stabilize prices or competitive terms” for labor services. But in fact, it’s an excerpt from Missouri Revised Statutes Section 290.220, otherwise known as the Prevailing Wage Law, which reads:

“It is hereby declared to be the policy of the state of Missouri that a wage of no less than the prevailing hourly rate of wages for work of a similar character in the locality in which the work is performed shall be paid to all workmen employed by or on behalf of any public body engaged in public works exclusive of maintenance work.”

The effect of the prevailing wage law is to require all public construction projects, from State to local school districts, from new building construction to repainting existing buildings, to pay workers a wage determined by the Missouri Department of Labor as being the ‘prevailing wage’ for the specific type of work in that local area. From a practical perspective, the prevailing wage law amounts to little more than a legalized form of price fixing, facilitated by the State.

Proponents of the law–particularly labor unions and contractors that hire union workers–argue the law helps ensure higher quality work because it eliminates contractors’ incentive to hire lower skilled labor. Critics argue that the law does nothing but protect union interests by eliminating competition in the labor market, and increases the cost to tax payers of all public construction projects. (Some critics would add that the law infringes on individuals’ freedom to contract).

Empirical research on the effect of prevailing wage laws is mixed. Some researchers find that prevailing wage laws increase the cost of public works projects by anywhere from 9 to 30%. Other researchers have found that even though the cost of public projects is significantly higher in prevailing wage states, those differences are negligible when other factors are controlled for.

However, what does not seem to get much attention in the empirical literature is how the prevailing wage is determined, and how that process itself may affect the cost of construction projects in both the private and public sectors due to the incentives the process creates.

At least in Missouri, the Annual Wage Order is based on wage information voluntarily reported by contractors. Contractors are “heavily encouraged” to submit wage reports for any commercial construction projects. Only contractors that participate in public contract bidding have incentive to submit wage reports since they are the only ones with an interest in the established wage. This incentive to report may inflate the prevailing wage calculation because companies that specialize in private commercial construction may pay lower wages in attempt to be more competitive.

Because accepting a public contract would require paying (higher) “prevailing wages”, contractors whose business is primarily private commercial construction may have even less incentive to participate in public project bidding. Contractors may find it difficult to pay their workers more for some projects than for others. Accepting public contracts may put the contractor in a position of being less competitive in the private construction market, since it would not be able to lower wages for those projects. The end result? Only higher wage contractors participate in public bidding and report their wages to the Department of Labor, further skewing the “prevailing wage”.

To the extent contractors participate in both public and private construction projects and do manage to pay different wage rates, contractors still can be selective in which wages they report to the Department of Labor. Contractors can submit wages for their public contracts and their more generous private commercial contracts and withhold information about any lower-wage contracts.

This endogenous wage-setting problem is even more likely in the case of construction projects that are uniquely public in nature. Almost all road construction in the US is done by public entities. Companies that specialize in road construction are the only firms submitting wage reports that determine the prevailing wage for road construction work. As a result, there is absolutely no competitive check on the potential escalation of wages for such projects.

There are some testable hypotheses implied by the arguments above. One would be the degree of specialization in public versus private construction projects by contractors. Another would involve the trend or serial correlation of prevailing wages for construction projects that are uniquely public in nature versus construction projects that have a mix of public and private buyers. And if one were able to get the data, a third would be to test whether the types of projects for which wages are reported to the Department of Labor are systematically biased in a way that would result in biased estimates of the ‘prevailing wage’.

Private firms that engage in price fixing, even by tacit collusion (that is, by informally following one another’s lead) are subject to fairly strict antitrust prohibitions. State prevailing wage laws, especially ones that are based on selective, voluntary reporting, amount to little more than a legalized form of State-sponsored price fixing. It’s worth thinking about why price fixing should be illegal when individuals pay for things themselves, but not when politicians and bureaucrats use taxpayers’ money to buy things for them.

A(n Ethanol) Subsidy By Any Other Name?

’Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself though, not a Montague.
What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O! be some other name: What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title.
~ Juliet, “Romeo & Juliet,” Act II, Scene II
William Shakespeare

It seems ethanol interests have a similar attitude toward the word “subsidy” as did Juliet toward Romeo.

Growth Energy, a biofuels lobbying organization, is currently holding its 2018 Executive Leadership Conference. The opening panel was titled “Up The Road: Does Ag Need Biofuels.” Not too surprisingly, the overwhelming conclusion was “Yes!”, as reported by the Iowa Renewable Fuels Association (RFA). And it’s true that biofuels are important for the corn and soy belt. According to the USDA’s Economic Research Service, 37% of corn (see Table 5) and 27% of soybeans (see Table 6) were used to make ethanol and biodiesel, respectively, in the 2016/17 marketing year. Of course, that use of biofuels is almost entirely the result of artificial demand created by government regulations that mandate use of ethanol, in particular, and biofuels more generally, in automobile fuel supplies. So when leaders in the ag industry affirm the importance of biofuels to the ag sector, they are essentially confessing the industry is dependent on an implicit subsidy in the form of consumer mandates.

That was the point I made in retweeting Iowa RFA’s tweet above.
By declaring a dependence on government mandates, these leaders in agriculture are effectively saying they cannot thrive in a competitive market and need government assistance. And these regulations do have the effect of thwarting innovation to the detriment of all fuel consumers. The rationale for incorporating ethanol in gasoline is to serve as an oxygenate to help the fuel burn cleaner, thereby reducing engine emissions. The Clean Air Act requires oxygenates be added to fuel to reduce air pollution. The Energy Policy Act of 2005 (Title XV) introduced the Renewable Fuels Standard that specifically mandates ethanol as the oxygenate that must be used, thereby discouraging research and development of alternate, potentially more cost efficient or environmentally beneficial, oxygenates.

The Iowa RFA was quick to reply, pointing out that biofuels “do not currently receive federal tax subsidies.” And that’s technically true–but it’s also disingenuous. As Juliet might say, a subsidy by any other name (like a renewable fuel standard) is no less a subsidy. It’s just a different channel of subsidy than direct tax dollar payments. But judging by the responses from other beneficiaries, it seems an important distinction. Kind of like a Capulet’s attitude about a Montague.

Some may think of subsidies as involving a direct payment to producers–like direct income payments to farmers or cost underwriting for crop insurance. But subsidies can also take the form of artificially inflating demand to increase the price and quantity demanded of the subsidized good. This is the tool the US government used to subsidize farms prior to the late 1980s; implementing commodity price supports by buying up the excess supply. It’s the same basic tool that is currently used to subsidize the electric car industry (via tax credits to car buyers; you’re welcome, Elon Musk). And, until the recent tax reform bill, it was one of the ways to help subsidize health insurance companies by mandating that individuals–particularly healthy individuals who are less costly to insure–purchase health insurance. In each case, the government subsidizes producers either directly, by giving them payments to cover costs, or indirectly, by bolstering demand (or in the case of health insurance, both).

It’s difficult when the things we love carry names, labels, or associations that are more convenient to ignore or deny than to embrace. It helps to call them something else, whether to deceive others or ourselves. But when it comes to consumer mandates, like the Renewable Fuels Standard, a subsidy by any other name is still a subsidy.

 

To LSAT, Or Not to LSAT?

An article in today’s WSJ Online reports that a growing number of law schools in the US are planning to forego the LSAT (Law School Admission Test) as their required entrance examination and to begin accepting the GRE (Graduate Record Examinations) that most (general) graduate schools accept for entry into MS and PhD programs.

Proponents argue that it will broaden the applicant pool for law schools to consider individuals who may not want–for whatever reason–to take the LSAT and the GRE as they weigh grad school options. Opponents argue it will dilute the quality and preparation of students for the rigors of law school. Well that, an cut revenues from test fees if you’re the Law School Admission Council that administers the test. Can both (or all) sides be right?

Yes, they can.

Admission to graduate school (or any academic program really) suffers from a hidden information problem. Applicants have a better idea of their ability to succeed in grad school than do admissions committees. They also have an incentive to over-represent their abilities. (They also may actually over-estimate their abilities, if you follow the behavioral economics literature, but we don’t even need that for the story to be interesting.) Likewise, admissions committees have a better idea of how rigorous their program is and what it takes to succeed than do prospective students. And they don’t want to waste time on students who are not likely to be successful in their program.

In economics we refer to this as an ‘adverse selection’ problem. It results anytime there is an information asymmetry between potential trading partners in which one party has better information than the other, and may have an incentive to hide that information (because the truth would hurt their prospects in the trade).

There are (basically) two solutions for dealing with this adverse selection information problem. First, the information-disadvantaged party (in our case, the admissions committee) can use any number of screening devices to reduce the information asymmetry and sort out the good prospects from the bad prospects. That’s exactly the purpose the LSAT (or the GRE) serves. It reveals something about the applicant’s reasoning ability (especially the LSAT) or general knowledge base (more so the GRE). So the question is, are the attributes the LSAT and the GRE screen for sufficiently similar that relying on either one would be a good screen? Obviously, some law schools–and some very good ones–appear to believe that’s the case. Or they at least believe it’s likely enough to give it a shot. Since some schools have allowed the GRE as a special case in the past, they may even have evidence to support that conclusion.

The second way of dealing with adverse selection problems is for the party with the information advantage (in our case, the law school applicants) to signal their quality by undertaking some special effort that would only make sense if they were actually good prospects. In other words, choosing to send the signal is a self-selection mechanism that makes the applicant’s information claim more credible.

Here is where critics of the GRE standard are likely correct. If schools only accept the LSAT, applicants have to go out of their way to take this “grueling test” if they want to go to law school. Only students who really want to go to law school and who believe they have the ability are willing to put themselves through that (and pay the explicit costs as well). If schools will accept the LSAT or the GRE, on the other hand, some GRE-takers may apply to law school who wouldn’t have if they had to take the LSAT. Which means, as critics point out, there may be more applicants that aren’t really dedicated to the idea of law school and therefore may be less desirable students.

However, it might also be the case that some prospective students have broader interests, and the GRE has a greater utility for a wider set of possible graduate programs. In a world where college students have limited dollars and time to prep for a graduate admission test, the GRE is the more economical investment. While that might make the signal value of taking the LSAT that might higher, since you really have to want to go to law school to take it, it might also be reasonable to infer that the value of the LSAT signal to admissions committees is not high enough to risk missing out on good potential students who choose to economize on their admission test choice.

So ultimately, it’s not about whether one side (or which) is right about their concern. The real question is how much difference do their concerns actually make in the outcome of law school admissions, and is the difference worth the costs associated with either policy?

Of course, there is yet another possibility–and one the American Bar Association seems to be considering. That is, that neither screening device is valuable enough to require it for admission to law school. At least not enough to make requiring a test part of the accreditation standards for law schools. Apparently the ABA believes the information asymmetry may no longer be so great that the screen/signal adds all that much value after all.

If I were in the market of selling that screening device (or either of them) and the ancillary services that go with it (e.g., test prep courses), I’d be a bit concerned about the future of our business model.