Naked Economics by Wheelan, Charles (spanish books to read .txt) 📕

the income tax, fall more heavily on the rich than the poor.) Here, as elsewhere, economics does not give us a “right answer”—only an analytical framework for thinking about important questions. Indeed the most efficient tax of all—one that is perfectly broad, simple, and fair (in the narrow, tax-related sense of the word)—is a lump-sum tax, which is imposed uniformly on every individual in a jurisdiction. Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher actually tried it in 1989 with the community charge, or “poll tax.” What happened? Britons rioted in the streets at the prospect of every adult paying the same tax for local community services regardless of income or property wealth (though there were some reductions for students, the poor, and the unemployed). Obviously good economics is not always good politics.

Meanwhile, not all benefits are created equal either. One of the biggest poverty-fighting tools in recent years has been the earned income tax credit (EITC), an idea that economists have pushed for decades because it creates a far better set of incentives than traditional social welfare programs. Most social programs offer benefits to individuals who are not working. The EITC does just the opposite; it uses the income tax system to subsidize low-wage workers so that their total income is raised above the poverty line. A worker who earns $11,000 and is supporting a family of four might get an additional $8,000 through the EITC and matching state programs. The idea was to “make work pay.” Indeed, the system provides a powerful incentive for individuals to get into the labor force, where it is hoped they can learn skills and advance to higher-paying jobs. Of course, the program has an obvious problem, too. Unlike welfare, the EITC does not help individuals who cannot find work at all; in reality, those are the folks who are likely to be most desperate.

When I applied to graduate school many years ago, I wrote an essay expressing my puzzlement at how a country that could put a man on the moon could still have people sleeping on the streets. Part of that problem is political will; we could take a lot of people off the streets tomorrow if we made it a national priority. But I have also come to realize that NASA had it easy. Rockets conform to the unchanging laws of physics. We know where the moon will be at a given time; we know precisely how fast a spacecraft will enter or exit the earth’s orbit. If we get the equations right, the rocket will land where it is supposed to—always. Human beings are more complex than that. A recovering drug addict does not behave as predictably as a rocket in orbit. We don’t have a formula for persuading a sixteen-year-old not to drop out of school. But we do have a powerful tool: We know that people seek to make themselves better off, however they may define that. Our best hope for improving the human condition is to understand why we act the way we do and then plan accordingly. Programs, organizations, and systems work better when they get the incentives right. It is like rowing downstream.

CHAPTER 3

Government and the Economy:

Government is your friend (and a round of applause for all those lawyers)

The first car I ever owned was a Honda Civic. I loved the car, but I sold it with a lot of good miles left in it. Why? Two reasons: (1) It didn’t have a cup holder; and (2) my wife was pregnant, and I had become fearful that our whole family would get flattened by a Chevy Suburban. I could have gotten beyond the cup holder problem. But putting a car seat in a vehicle that weighed a quarter as much as the average SUV was not an option. So we bought a Ford Explorer and became part of the problem for all of those people still driving Honda Civics.*

The point is this: My decision to buy and drive an SUV affects everyone else on the road, yet none of those people has a say in my decision. I do not have to compensate all the owners of Honda Civics for the fact that I am putting their lives slightly more at risk. Nor do I have to compensate asthmatic children who will be made worse off by the exhaust I generate as I cruise around the city getting nine miles to the gallon. And I have never mailed off a check to people living on small Pacific islands who may someday find their entire countries underwater because my CO2 emissions are melting the polar ice caps. Yet these are real costs associated with driving a less fuel-efficient car.

My decision to buy a Ford Explorer causes what economists refer to as an externality, which means that the private costs of my behavior are different from the social costs. When my wife and I went to the Bert Weinman Ford Dealership and the salesman, Angel, asked, “What is it going to take for me to put you in this car?,” we tallied up the costs of driving an Explorer rather than a Civic: more gas, more expensive insurance, higher car payments. There was nothing on our tally sheet about asthmatic children, melting polar ice caps, or pregnant women driving Mini Coopers. Are these costs associated with driving an Explorer? Yes. Do we have to pay them? No. Therefore, they did not figure into our decision (other than as a vague sense of guilt as we contemplated telling our environmentally conscious relatives who live in Boulder, Colorado, and flush the toilet only once a day in order to conserve water).

When an externality—the gap between the private cost and the social cost of some behavior—is large, individuals have an incentive to do things that make them better off at the expense of others. The market, left alone, will do nothing to fix this problem. In fact, the market “fails” in the