Friday, August 30, 2013

In defence of simplistic models

This post on methodology is related to recent discussions about the role of maths in economics (Matt has a good summary with the relevant links here), but is actually response to a comment by Chris B over at SciBlogs to my initialpost on Labour’s proposed ban on non-resident ownership of houses. (Yes, this post is long overdue. Events have conspired to keep me away from blogging for a couple of weeks.) 

Chris says: 
You know, the more I think on it, the more dissatisfied I am with this thought exercise. If only because Seamus has seen fit to call it a “very simple model of the New Zealand housing market”. It realy isn’t . It’s simply a fictional market with certain highly abstract asserted properties. No more realistic or useful than the various maths exercises from my own university level economics classes.
Fair enough. I should have said a simple model to help think about the New Zealand housing market. The point of this post is to ask whether simplistic models can be useful. Note that such models are unrealistic by design. If I were writing an academic paper, I would have used a much more complicated model, and if writing a problem set for an undergraduate class, something only a bit more complicated. But this was a blog post, so the model was designed to be easily solveable in your head. (I hope that the maths exercises from Chris’ university-level economics classes were more involved than this one; if not he was severely short-changed by his university.)

In general, a simplistic model is designed to make one or two points by stripping away every piece of reality except a specific thing that you want to highlight. Some of the assumptions one makes in doing this are simply removing irrelevant reality in order to focus attention on the key aspect of the question at hand. Others are more like dogs that don’t bark in the night; seeing what happens when you assume away some aspect of reality highlights how important that aspect is. Chris lists a whole bunch of assumptions in my model. I won’t go into these in detail, but I would argue that they all fit into one of these two categories. Some, like the assumptions about homogeneous preferences and housing quality are just assuming away irrelevant reality. Others, like the assumption of inelastic supply are non-barking-dog assumptions. As I noted in my original post, when you relax this assumption, you make the case against bans on foreign ownership stronger. 

The realism or lack thereof of a model is therefore not a criterion for judging a model’s success. A simplistic model can be criticised for one of three reasons: 

a) the intuitive point that is laid bare when all other reality is stripped away is so obvious that the point doesn’t need to be made;
b) the model doesn’t actually illustrate the point being made; or
c) the point is actually wrong, and the model fails because it stripped away some highly relevant aspect of reality.

The third is not necessarily a criticism. If a model’s intuition can be changed by adding in some relevant piece of reality, the process of starting with a simple model and then relaxing the assumptions lays bare what the crucial step is for generating a particular conclusion and informs where one needs to look for empirical evidence supporting it.

Now, in my post, I was looking to make two points: The first was that the price of houses depends on the current and future expected stock of houses and the current and future expected demand for housing (i.e. the willingness of people to pay to live in houses); changing the rules on who is allowed to be non-occupier owners of houses should not change the price of housing absent a mechanism for the policy to affect demand for occupancy or the stock. The second point was that if speculation is pushing up the price of houses, it is only because house prices are expected to increase in the future; attempts to restrict speculation without dealing with the underlying drivers only delay the issue.

Now I don’t think you can say that my model fails on the ground of being too obvious, as so much public commentary on housing policy simply routinely ignores these two points. Whether the model is successful in illustrating the point is very much in the eye of the beholder. For the third criticism, I certainly can imagine relaxing assumptions to generate different conclusions and inform a debate about what is the more likely state of the world. Chris, however, would prefer to eschew the simplistic model altogether. In his words:
Plainly the exercise does not remotely resemble the New Zealand Housing market. Why, then, should we have any particular faith in our ability to extrapolate from the though exercise to what will happen in the real-world economy.
In what sense does the model not resemble the New Zealand housing market? The model has both renters and owner occupiers. It has owners of rental properties who earn investment income from the ownership. It has a future expected increase in the demand for housing, and in that world has landlords earning a below-market rate of return. All describe exactly, say, the Auckland housing market. Yes, the real-world economy has other things as well, but it is important to understand the simple models before adding complications. What is the alternative?  Chris’ conclusion is as follows:
Perhaps a better approach to arguing against the policy on economic grounds would be to identify other places where it has been implemented and talk about the impacts which have resulted. Potentially tricky to isolate the impacts of the policy from other confounding factors, but if it can be done, there’s the advantage of being able to present some empirical evidence against it. 
 Alternatively, perhaps we might drop the thought exercise entirely as extraneous and talk specifically about how we expect foreign buyers will react to future restrictions on their activities, consequences for investment decisions and the like.
Not so fast. How do social scientists isolate impacts from confounding factors? They use theory. That is, they have a model or competing models in mind that would be consistent with some observed correlations but not with others. And how can you learn anything about how foreign buyers will react to restrictions on their activities and what impact that reaction will have for the housing market, if you don’t have a view about how their behaviour relates to conditions in the housing market, how other people will respond to that reaction, etc.? 

In other words, careful empirical and behavioural analysis rests on models, and complicated models rest on simplistic ones. Non-careful analysis, in contrast, rests on unstated models, models that are potentially self-contradictory or rest on assumptions that have assumed away relevant reality but have never been made explicit. 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Parking Market Failures

Does any market failure argument justify parking minima? Many cities require that residential developments include some minimum number of off-street carparks. Can these be justified?

Well, I'm glad you asked, Agnito.

The best argument I've heard for these regulations is that on-street parking is rivalrous and non-excludable. If you have an apartment building with too few carparks, residents will park on the street or might keep flitting between a few different no-parking zones, staying one step ahead of the enforcement officers. A lot of people see paying for parking a bit like hiring other kinds of personal services: why pay for it when you can apply yourself and perhaps get it for free? And if you find the perfect parking spot, there's then a huge opportunity cost of leaving the space: people with really good parking spaces never give them up. Finding the perfect space can be a joy to be shared with others. Further, where excess congestion from everyone's free-riding on on-street parking gives incentive for the able-bodied to park in handicapped spaces (or in front of fire hydrants), disastrous consequences can ensue.

Having mandatory parking minima then avoids the free-riding on the on-street parking that could best be left for higher-turnover use. And where long-term on-street parking is discouraged only by time limits, it also encourages other socially wasteful forms of entrepreneurship.

The best response to this kind of argument is that it's massively second-best relative to the more efficient solution: price on-street parking. Do that properly and everything else sorts itself out.

Of course, in that world, Seinfeld wouldn't have been nearly as good. And where Gerry Brownlee wants to ban Auckland from using congestion charging, we might not be able to get first-best parking charges anyway.

For the record though: there is no real-world market failure sufficiently large to justify mandatory parking minimums. At least not in Auckland, best I can tell.

Coase and dorm-room noises

The University of Auckland's halls of residence warn that they might ban students from copulatory activites from 10 pm to 6 am, because of the costs their noise imposes on students in neighbouring rooms.

Ronald Coase reminds us of the reciprocal nature of externalities. Without the ban, active students impose costs on their neighbours. But by implementing the ban, the neighbours impose costs on those who would wish to undertake such activities. Which is best?

And so we have a situation identical to that which obtained in the Economics Department here at Canterbury when we moved to open-plan offices post-quake. No, we don't do that in the offices, despite the apparent productivity benefits. Rather, some of us type loudly and like talking with colleagues while others of us cannot abide noise while working. The Department is split over two buildings. In my building, we fence out the noise by adopting a "wear headphones" norm. This is fortunate both because I do take a few media calls from time to time, and because the Department's administrator is located in our building, and because I have the world's best keyboard. In the other building, they've adopted a shushing norm. I strongly prefer the norm in our building, but nothing stops people from choosing one building or the other as suits their fancy.

When I was an undergraduate in the University of Manitoba's University College dorms, I sadly was not the source of, well, any external noise cost. But rather than wish to shush others or seek to ban their fun out of envy or resentment, I played Bach's Brandenberg Concertos on infinite repeat, loudly, all night, every night. The Concertos still put me to sleep. But I was a Coasean, even though Manitoba's Economics Department didn't much emphasize Coasean approaches: I recognized that the costs to me of averting the costs of the noise were much lower than the costs I could possibly impose on everyone else from banning noisemaking.

Further, Bach was a general-purpose solution: it worked against sex noises, but also against the noise of drunken revelers coming home late from the campus bar. Ban all specific noises as much as you like, but there'll still be noise that happens. It's simply more efficient to encourage people who don't like distracting noises to fence it out with Bach.

I guess the point of all of this is that Auckland students should come to Canterbury instead.

Reserve prices, marginal utility, and management degrees

Sellers on trade-me set a reserve price: the minimum price at which they're willing to sell whatever they're auctioning off. In the absence of strategic play, a seller should set the reserve price at the lowest amount at which they're willing to sell the product: they should be trivially better off for having sold it than for not having sold it at that price. While they gain income that brings utility when they sell it, they forgo the flow of utility provided by continued ownership of the good.

Some things you might value at zero dollars, or negatively. That clunky thing that's taking up needed space: set a reserve price of $0 and hope somebody takes it away for free.

Let's then parse this TradeMe listing:
Replete with intermediate level Economics knowledge, this degree will help you realise that the reserve price and the marginal utility gained by the seller are worth exactly the same!
The seller is auctioning off his Bachelor of Commerce in Management, earned at the University of Canterbury.

I hope the seller means that he or she values the degree certificate at the $1 reserve price: owning the degree certificate provides its current owner with utility worth $1, and losing the certificate would make its owner $1 worse off. And so the reserve price is equal to the utility the degree certificate provides.

If the seller meant instead that he or she would gain marginal utility worth $1 by achieving the reserve bid, that can only be true if the value of owning the certificate were $0. That's plausible from the rest of the text, but hardly clear.

I've copied the whole ad below. I'm considering bidding. Then at Faculty meetings, we can truly state that at least one member of the Economics department owns a Management degree. If it ever comes up.

Original unused Bachelor of Commerce - $1 reserve! Brand new item

Major: Broken Dreams

  • Current bid: $37.50
  • Reserve met Reserve met 
  • Closes: Thu 5 Sep, 8:59 pm
  • Listing #: 632646059
Auto-bid site help.
Limited edition print, this 2007 Bachelor of Commerce is barely used and in "like new" condition! Originally priced at nearly $30,000, this is now available at a fraction of the price, with only $1 dollar reserve!

Avoid the gruelling 3+ year sacrifice necessary to pull good grades and skip the rampant physical and mental diseases by buying your degree direct from Trademe. Replete with intermediate level Economics knowledge, this degree will help you realise that the reserve price and the marginal utility gained by the seller are worth exactly the same!

Revel in the accolades of your family as you become the first among them to attain advanced education, only to later avoid their sincere enquiries as to your job opportunities and general wellbeing. Marvel as employers overlook you time and time again, and let your youthful eagerness get beaten out of you with a sack of potatoes (the only food you could afford this week).

Eke out a living in the illustrious field of data entry or pick up a day job putting PostIts one-by-one on a wall - all without the guilt and shame that would exist if you actually made the mistake of getting the degree yourself. Finally, watch your fragile sense of self-worth crash like the Hindenburg; casting hopes and ambitions to the breeze, leaving you twisted, hollow and bitter.

The winning bid will receive ALL THIS and more in the original issued degree pictured above, with the one lucky individual having their name lovingly embossed in crayon over the previous owners. Don't delay, get your degree today!
Please read the questions and answers for this auction.

Shipping details

  • Free shipping within New Zealand
  • Seller allows pick-ups
  • Seller is located in Christchurch City, Canterbury

Payment details

  • NZ bank deposit

About the seller

gabocha (46 ) 
  • 100% positive feedback
  • Member since May 2003

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Thursday updates

Blogging has been light; I spent the last two days catching up with folks in Wellington and attending the National Drug Policy Summit run by the New Zealand Drug Foundation, about which I'll blog properly later. A few bits of interest in the meantime: So endeth the closing of the browser tabs, so closeth the day.

Update: note that Edgeler also argues that lack of intent to break the law could be a decent reason not to go ahead with prosecution in this kind of case and reminds us that criminal penalties are not the only form of accountability. That's all true; I hope that everyone who has illegally been spied upon knows that it has happened so that they can launch civil suits.

Monday, August 26, 2013

National drug policy summit

A few assorted observations from today's National Drug Policy Summit in Wellington:
  1. Ross Bell and his team pulled together a reasonably diverse group. So it's fun.
  2. As with many NZ conferences, and especially those with a policy focus or those addressing issues of interest to Maori, we broke unexpectedly (to me) into song. There were lyrics up on the projector, but I sure didn't know the tune.
  3. I suspect that it is impossible for policy conferences addressing issues of ethnic or economic decile correlates to avoid spending 30-60 minutes finding a balance between noting how bad the current state of the world is for a disadvantaged group and how we don't want to problematise a disadvantaged group by pointing them out, presenting them as homogeneous, and so on. There should be a single-paragraph boilerplate that covers this for most policy issues. I wish it would be universally adopted.
  4. Doug Sellman sought to clarify at the outset whether drugs like sugar were to be ruled out of the discussions.
Follow the hashtag #drugpol13 for further updates. I've been tweeting there a bit. The objective to is hash out some consensus document that might improve policy. I want to know whether their vision of harm reduction includes harm imposed on substance users from restrictions on their access. We'll see.

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Honi Soit... revisited

The shame lies in the mind of the viewer.

The University of Sydney's student magazine, Honi Soit, this week had to gather up copies of the current issue. The front cover featured a set of pictures of, well...:
The front page of the University of Sydney rag, Honi Soit, featured a montage of graphic, unretouched vulvae - pubic hair et al - belonging to 18 students who stalk its hallowed halls.
There were black bars covering the middle of each picture, but apparently it was too translucent so the determined reader could peer through the censor's bar.

I saw a couple stories on this yesterday, mostly via @BexStevenson. And not a single one noted the delicious irony here. Recall what Honi Soit means. It comes from the Latin Norse French* phrase uttered by King Edward so long ago, or at least the story goes. Here's Hume's rendition:
A vulgar story prevails, but is not supported by any ancient authority, that at a court ball, Edward's mistress, commonly supposed to be the countess of Salisbury, dropped her garter; and the king, taking it up, observed some of the courtiers to smile, as if they thought that he had not obtained this favor merely by accident: upon which he called out, "Honi soit qui mal y pense,"—Evil to him that evil thinks; and as every incident of gallantry among those ancient warriors was magnified into a matter of great importance,[*] he instituted the order of the garter in memorial of this event, and gave these words as the motto of the order.
In this case as well, the shame lies in the eyes and mind of those taking offence at the magazine cover.

Previously: Seamus on Kapiti's logo...

Update: A few weeks ago, a reader at SciBlogs complained that Matt Nolan hadn't explained the acronym LVR in discussing Loan-to-Value Ratio regulation. Another commenter pointed out some disturbing alternative meanings of LVR, related to this post's topic.

* Je ne sais quoi est arrive ce matin quand j'ai ecrit ceci. Toute la phrase est francais; je ne suis pas familier avec le mot 'Honi', mais le restant est francais. Pardonnez moi!