Chapter XVII “OWN RATES OF INTEREST”

1. Speculative Anticipations are not “Interest”

Chapter 17 of the General Theory, “The Essential Properties of Interest and Money,” is dull, implausible, and full of obscurities, non sequiturs, and other fallacies. Even Alvin Hansen, Keynes’s leading American disciple, has written:

Immediately after the appearance of the General Theory there was a fascination about Chap. 17, due partly no doubt to its obscurity. Digging in this area, however, soon ceased after it was found that the chapter contained no gold mines.... In general, not much would have been lost had it never been written.... Keynes’s discussion in Sec. I., Chap. 17, is confused and of no real importance.¹

I am tempted to let the matter go at this; but some of the fallacies that appear in this chapter are worth analysis both in the interests of thoroughness and for the light the analysis may throw on the rest of the General Theory.

It is in this chapter that Keynes toys with the strange notion of “own rates of interest”:

The money-rate of interest—we may remind the reader—is nothing more than the percentage excess of a sum of money contracted for forward delivery, e.g. a year hence, over what we may call the ‘spot’ or cash price of the sum thus contracted for forward delivery. It would seem, therefore, that for every kind of capital-asset there must be an analogue of the rate of interest on money. For there is a definite quantity of (e.g.) wheat to be delivered a year hence which has the same exchange value today as 100 quarters of wheat for ‘spot’ delivery. If the former quantity is 105 quarters, we may say that the wheat-rate of interest is 5 per cent per annum; and if it is 95 quarters, that it is minus 5 per cent per annum. Thus for every durable commodity we have a rate of interest in terms of itself,—a wheat-rate of interest, a copper-rate of interest, a house-rate of interest, even a steel-plant-rate of interest (pp. 222-223).

Of all the confusions in the General Theory this is one of the most incredible. Even such loyal Keynesians as Hansen and Lerner ² boggle at it.

The own rate of interest—the house rate, the wheat rate, and the money rate [Hansen insists] is in fact the marginal efficiency of a unit whether that unit be a house, a bushel of wheat, or a sum of money.... The all-embracing term for the so-called own rate of interest is the marginal efficiency rate, or the rate of return over cost from investment in an increment of the capital asset in question.³

Now this is only a little less nonsensical, a little less violent misnomer, than Keynes’s own term. What Keynes is talking about is certainly not an “interest rate” of any kind. Nor is it, as Hansen supposes, a “marginal efficiency rate.” It is not merely that it would be confusing and silly to talk of a “marginal efficiency rate” of a bushel of wheat. This “marginal efficiency rate” would often be a negative sum. And if the “marginal efficiency” of a bushel of wheat were negative, the price of a bushel of wheat would also be negative, or at least zero.

Now an interest rate is at least a rate. If it amounts to r for one year, then it is 2r for two years, 3r for three years, ¹/₂r for one-half year, and so on. On such an analogy one might perhaps talk of the (net) rent of a house as a house-rate-of-interest. But what Keynes is talking about is not even a hiring rate, which would at least have some reasonable analogy with an interest rate. He is talking merely of speculative anticipations of price changes, which may change from day to day, hour to hour, or minute to minute.

Keynes should have had some intimation that he was talking nonsense, one would suppose, when he was explaining “own-rates of interest” to the reader: “Let us suppose,” he writes, “that the spot price of wheat is £100 per 100 quarters, that the price of the ‘future’ contract for wheat for delivery a year hence is £107 per hundred quarters, and that the money-rate of interest is 5 per cent; what is the wheat-rate of interest?” (p. 223). After a slight calculation he concludes that in this case “the wheat-rate of interest is minus 2 per cent per annum.” And he adds, in a footnote, “This relationship was first pointed out by Mr. Sraffa, Economic Journal, March, 1932” (p. 223).

Now a negative interest rate is in itself a foolish and self-contradictory conception,⁴ for it is impossible to imagine any sane person lending any amount of wheat or money or anything else in order to make a foreseen loss; and the term “interest rate” implies that the rate is foreseen if it implies anything. The term “interest rate,” again, implies that something is being lent by one party to the transaction and borrowed by the other, and that the principal sum (or object) is being returned by the borrower to the lender at the end of the contractual period.

But no “lending” or “borrowing” of wheat occurs in the transaction described by Keynes, but merely a purchase and sale. And if a “rate of interest” is being paid, it is impossible to figure from whom to whom. It is even impossible to know, from the illustration Keynes gives, whether the purchaser of the future contract for wheat has made a profit or a loss. To know that, one would also have to know the spot price for wheat when the year was up, and compare it with the £107 that the purchaser of the future contract had to pay.

We cannot even say, in the illustration given, that the seller of the 100 quarters of wheat is £2 better off than if he had not sold the wheat but had borrowed £100 at 5 per cent to carry it; because this would depend entirely upon the spot price he would have to pay for the same amount of wheat when the year was up. Similarly, we cannot even say that the buyer of the “future” contract for wheat is £2 worse off than if he had not bought the forward contract but had lent out his £100 at 5 per cent for a year instead. To answer either question we must know what the spot price of wheat is at the time that the “future” contract falls due. If the price of spot wheat is then £114, the previous seller of the wheat is £9 worse off than he might have been if he had held his wheat, and the buyer of the forward wheat is £9 better off than he would have been if he had not bought the forward contract. Similarly, if the spot price of wheat at the end of the year is still £100, then the seller of the wheat is £5 better off than if he had held his wheat and paid £5 interest to carry it, and the buyer is £5 worse off than if he had not bought the future contract but had merely lent out his money at 5 per cent instead.⁵ But in neither case, of course, are we talking about a “wheat-rate of interest.”

The whole illustration, in fact, leads one to question how much Keynes knew about actual transactions in the speculative commodity markets. I pick up the newspaper as of the day I am writing this, and quote some illustrations as I find them. As of Aug. 8, 1957, then, the opening price of Chicago wheat (new contract) for September delivery was $2.14 a bushel; for December delivery $2.19¹/₂ a bushel; for the following March, $2.21¾; but for the following May, $2.16⁷/₈, and for the following July, $2.03¾. How could one figure from this the “wheat-rate of interest”? There is, of course, a premium of 5¹/₂ cents for December wheat over September, and a premium of 7¾ cents of March over September, and of 2¼ cents of March over December. If one finds such confusion amusing, one could treat these sums as a “negative wheat-rate of interest.” Even here, however, one would be hard put to it to explain why the negative wheat-rate of interest was so much lower for six months than for three months. But what is one to do when one gets to the May and July deliveries, and finds the situation completely reversed, so that one can buy a bushel of wheat for delivery eleven months off for 10¼ cents less than one pays for delivery next month? Here are all sorts of positive and negative “rates of interest” for the same commodity on the same day!

If we turn to Chicago corn (also on Aug. 8, 1957), we find exactly the reverse situation. There the price of a bushel of corn for September delivery is $1.30⁷/₈; for December delivery $1.26⁷/₈; for March delivery $1.31⅛, and for May delivery $1.33⁷/₈. So the “corn-rate of interest,” unlike the “wheat-rate of interest,” for the first three months is a “positive” rate (talking in Keynesian terms) but for six and eight months suddenly becomes a “negative” rate!

If we throw out all such nonsense, stop calling apples cherries and triangles squares, and ask what really happens, we find that the difference between spot prices and future prices, or between one future price and another, is merely the result of differences in speculative anticipations. The speculative community, in other words, is putting a separate guess on the probable supply and demand situation regarding each commodity at each of a series of delivery dates in the future. Unlike the situation with regard to (riskless) money-lending, the profit or loss from these transactions cannot be known in advance. (Unless they are “hedging” operations designed to avoid a speculative risk by taking the risk both ways.)

This does not mean that the going short-term interest rate (on money) does not play a part in speculative prices. Where the wheat that is being sold for forward delivery must meanwhile be carried by the seller in storage, the seller will mentally deduct the prospective storage, insurance, and other carrying-charges (including the interest he has to pay to borrow the money to carry it) in figuring what he is “really” getting for his wheat; and the buyer will mentally add these carrying charges in figuring what he is “really” paying.

But both are in fact betting on what they expect the spot price to be for wheat on the day of delivery. The buyer thinks he will be getting the wheat cheaper (or at least avoiding the risks of loss), by buying it now at the existing “futures” price than by paying the spot price as he expects it to be six or nine months hence. The seller thinks he is getting more (or avoiding risk) by selling at the “futures” price now than by waiting to sell and taking a chance on the spot price six or nine months hence. Buyer and seller, in short, have different estimates; each is betting against the judgment of the other. There is no need for any concept of a “wheat-rate of interest” in understanding such a transaction; there is no real analogy with any rate of interest, and nothing but confusion can result from introducing a spurious analogy.

2. Impossible Miracles

Because there is no validity at all in the idea of “own-rates of interest,” I shall spare the reader an analysis of the pretentious algebraic notation (“q — c + l,” etc.) that Keynes introduces to explain the differences between the “own-rates of interest” of different goods. It is curious, in fact, how Keynes himself pursues this and other of his own ideas to to the point of reductio ad absurdum while seeming to remain completely blind to the absurdity. At one point he even introduces the idea that each national currency must have a different “own-rate of interest”: “Here also the difference between the ‘spot’ and ‘future’ contracts for a foreign money in terms of sterling are not, as a rule, the same for different foreign moneys” (p. 224). Of course not; and the reason is clearly that, as long as most national currencies remain on a mere paper basis, there is bound to be a different speculative guess (changing daily) concerning the future value of every national currency. To call these different speculative guesses “rates of interest” is merely silly.

On the same page, Keynes, in illustrating own-rates of interest theory, writes: “To illustrate this let us take the simplest case where wheat, one of the alternative standards, is expected to appreciate at a steady rate of a per cent per annum in terms of money” (p. 224). The illustration is absurd and impossible. Never in history has wheat been “expected to appreciate at a steady rate of a per cent per annum in terms of money.” And it is impossible to imagine without self-contradiction the conditions under which such an expectation could exist. One would be the expectation of an absolutely fixed “objective” value for a bushel of wheat each year (month, day, and hour), combined with a steady annual (also monthly, weekly, and daily) depreciation in the value of the currency unit. Such an expectation, if general, would be falsified because speculative transactions would anticipate it immediately. Another condition would be one in which the value of the dollar would be expected to remain absolutely fixed while the value of a bushel of wheat appreciated at a steady rate annually (and presumably monthly, weekly, and daily). For such an anticipation to exist, we should have to imagine a condition in which everybody miraculously expected the demand for wheat to increase with complete regularity (and without speculative anticipation!) while the supply for equally miraculous reasons remained rigid; or one would have to imagine so finely adjusted a decline in the production of wheat as to make a steady appreciation in value at the same uniform rate possible. One would have to imagine a universally shared expectation upon which no speculator, no buyer or seller, acted! But the assumptions are too self-contradictory to pursue further.

Yet it is always instructive, in analyzing a fallacy, to try to discover what it was that led its author to embrace it. As with so many other fallacies of Keynes, we find that even this one was not original with him. Irving Fisher, in The Theory of Interest (1930), played with the idea for a few sentences: “No two forms of goods can be expected to maintain an absolutely constant price ratio toward each other. There are, therefore, theoretically just as many rates of interest expressed in terms of goods as there are kinds of goods diverging from one another in value.” (His italics, p. 42.) But this idea is then almost immediately dropped. I think this was because Fisher’s common sense recognized that the free convertibility at all times of money into goods (at market prices) and of goods into money, brought about, in effect, a single uniform interest rate, “the” interest rate, expressed in money. The constant fluctuations over time in the prices of individual goods can hardly, therefore, be treated as changes in individual “interest rates.” They are speculative oscillations. “The” common interest rate is diffused through the whole price system.

3. Ought Wages to be Rigid?

I shall have to skip over whole nests of minor fallacies and confusions in the later part of Keynes’s Chapter 17 in order to concentrate upon a few major ones. One of the most important is his contention not only that money-wages are “sticky,” but that they ought to be. In other words, Keynes contends not only that money wage-rates fail to respond to changes in supply and demand but that it would unstabilize the economy if they did so. It is a very good thing that they are unresponsive:

If money-wages were to fall easily, this might often tend to create an expectation of a further fall with unfavorable reactions on the marginal efficiency of capital (p. 232).

Professor Pigou (with others) has been accustomed to assume that there is a presumption in favor of real wages being more stable than money-wages. But this could only be the case if there were a presumption in favor of stability of employment.... If, indeed, some attempt were made to stabilize real wages by fixing wages in terms of wage-goods, the effect could only be to cause a violent oscillation of money-prices. For every small fluctuation in the propensity to consume and the inducement to invest would cause money-prices to rush violently between zero and infinity. That money-wages should be more stable than real wages is a condition of the system possessing inherent stability (pp. 238-239).

A full analysis of such passages will be postponed until we come to consider Keynes’s Book V on “Money-Wages and Prices.” Here it is enough to notice that Keynes is against (1) flexibility and adjustment of money-wages; and (2) against stability of real wages (because it would “cause money-prices to rush violently between zero and infinity”).

Evidently the man is going to be hard to satisfy. Also, because these positions are mutually contradictory, it is going to be hard to know which is Keynes’s “real” position when it comes to analyzing his doctrine. I may anticipate our conclusion to the extent, however, of pointing out that the belief that a subsequent adjustment of “real” wage-rates to a prior change in money-prices “would cause money-prices to rush violently between zero and infinity” is such furious nonsense that no analysis could render it more ridiculous than it is on its face.

4. We Owe Our Lives to Saving

It is already clear that Keynes is determined, with no matter what argument or assertion, to exculpate excessively high wage-rates from all blame for unemployment and to pin that blame on to the demand of lenders for the payment of interest on their loans. Thus there is no real difference of doctrine, but merely one of obscurity, complexity, and intellectual pretentiousness, between the contentions of the General Theory and the baldest and most demagogic propaganda of union leaders. One difference is, indeed, that Keynes is more openly cynical in his proposals and more openly contemptuous of everyone who does not accept his doctrine. He is also more openly contemptuous of “the public” generally:

Unemployment develops, that is to say, because people want the moon;—men cannot be employed when the object of desire (i.e. money) is something which cannot be produced and the demand for which cannot be readily choked off. There is no remedy but to persuade the public that green cheese is practically the same thing and to have a green cheese factory (i.e. a central bank) under public control (p. 235).

The theory embodied in this paragraph is that the public is irrational, that it can be easily gulled, and that the object of government is to be the chief party to the swindle.

The results of turning central banks into green cheese factories to deceive the public will be examined in a later chapter. Here I wish to analyze a typical paragraph in which Keynes seeks to put the blame for almost everything that has gone wrong in history on his great bête noir, “liquidity-preference”:

That the world after several millennia of steady individual saving, is so poor as it is in accumulated capital-assets, is to be explained, in my opinion, neither by the improvident propensities of mankind, nor even by the destruction of war, but by the high liquidity-premiums formerly attaching to the ownership of land and now attaching to money. I differ in this from the older view as expressed by Marshall with an unusual dogmatic force in his Principles of Economics, p. 581:—

“Everyone is aware that the accumulation of wealth is held in check, and the rate of interest so far sustained, by the preference which the great mass of humanity have for present over deferred gratification, or, in other words, by their unwillingness to ‘wait’“ (p. 242).

Once more Keynes has managed to pack an astonishing number of misstatements and fallacies into a small space. No doubt the world is still far poorer in “accumulated capital-assets” than it desires to be. How “poor” it is compared with what it might have been under ideal conditions is, of course, a matter of pure speculation. But Keynes’s statement that the world is poor in accumulated capital assets, even as compared with the past, is subject to statistical test.

There is not space here to go into this matter in great detail. The reader is referred to the appropriate historical and statistical material.⁶ But aside from the notorious fact that the condition of the masses is enormously better than it was two centuries ago, just before the Industrial Revolution (i.e., the birth of modern capitalism), there is the still more notorious fact that the population of the world since then has increased three-fold or four-fold. It was capital accumulation that made this possible. This means that at least two out of every three of us owe our very existence to the savings and investments of our forebears (in spite of “high liquidity-premiums”) and to the capitalist system. What assurance has any of us that he is the one person in every three or four that would have come into the world anyway, without this capital accumulation? Could Keynes or anyone else afford to be patronizing about it?

The gain in capital accumulation is not to be measured, of course, merely by number of factories or amount of machinery. The gain in world population implies the erection of an enormous amount of housing. And it has involved, in fact, the continuous qualitative improvement in housing, tools, machinery, and every sort of capital asset.

It is the qualitative improvement in capital assets, which is certainly no less important than the quantitative increase, that Keynes constantly ignores. Perhaps the greatest single form of capital investment in the world, in fact, is represented by the improvement in land, to make it more get-at-able, usable, tillable, fertile, attractive, productive in every way. This has involved an immense amount of leveling, road-making, road improvement, canal-digging, forest-clearing, draining, irrigation systems; river improvement and flood-control systems; plowing, fertilizing, and, in cities, of street-laying, street-widening, sewerage systems, the laying of pipes and wires and sidewalks, and so ad infinitum. Once this work has been done, the casual or careless observer is apt to take most of it for granted, as if it had always been that way, or all been provided by “nature.” The careless economist is apt to call it simply “land,” and to forget that, in all civilized countries, it is land to which an enormous amount of capital improvement has been applied.

It might be added also that the growth of capital accumulation is accelerative. This acceleration has been most pronounced since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution—that is to say, since the repeal of the mercantilistic restrictions, the trade barriers, and above all of the usury laws—those laws against high interest rates that Keynes thinks so wise.

The next thing to notice, in the passage I have quoted from p. 242, is that, after greatly underestimating the existing amount of world capital accumulation, Keynes speaks of the “high liquidity-premiums formerly attaching to the ownership of land.” Now no doubt in the pre-capitalistic period land-ownership represented usually the chief form of wealth-ownership. But how Keynes figures that land ever bore a “liquidity-premium” is a mystery. Land is proverbially, and has nearly always been, probably the most illiquid possession that a man can hold. It was usually much more illiquid in the past than it is today, when its liquidity is for practical purposes greatly increased by numerous real estate agents, by newspaper advertising, and by an organized mortgage market. It has become less illiquid with the development of capitalism; for in the pre-capitalistic period land was usually inherited and commonly entailed. A rich man’s relatively liquid possessions consisted of the precious metals, jewelry, works of art, cattle (once even a medium of exchange), and non-perishable crops, such as tobacco (once also a medium of exchange).

Finally, we must notice in the passage quoted that Keynes not only rejects the time-preference theory of interest, but even time-preference, “impatience” or “waiting” as an important element in the theory of interest. And he does this without deigning to offer any argument whatever, but simply by the ex cathedra statement that “I differ in this from the older view.” It may be pointed out, however, that he differs in this also from his own previous acknowledgment in the General Theory itself of the way in which “the psychological time-preferences of an individual” (p. 166) affect his decisions as between present and future consumption, and from his own frequent use (e.g., p. 135) of the term “rate of discount” in connection both with the interest rate and the marginal efficiency of capital. “The rate of discount” is a meaningless concept except in relation to time-preference. It is, in fact, merely another name for the rate of interest.

5. Keynes vs. Wicksell

Section VI of Chapter 17 contains a short discussion of Knut Wicksell’s concept of a “natural” rate of interest. Keynes discusses it only to dismiss it. Here again his dismissal is not based on anything that can properly be called an analysis, but simply on his personal “opinion”:

I am now no longer of the opinion that the concept of a ‘natural’ rate of interest, which previously seemed to me a most promising idea, has anything very useful or significant to contribute to our analysis. It is merely the rate of interest which will preserve the status quo; and, in general, we have no predominant interest in the status quo as such (p. 243).

It is hard to call this anything else than a deliberate misrepresentation. The implication of Keynes’s statement is that what the “natural” rate of interest would preserve is the existing distribution of wealth or income, or the existing level of production or employment. But the only thing that the “natural” rate of interest would preserve, on Wicksell’s definition, is the established pre-existing average of prices. What Wicksell meant by the “natural” rate of interest, in other words, was the rate of interest that would be neither inflationary nor deflationary. He saw that if the rate of interest were pushed above this level, it would unduly discourage borrowing, cause a contraction in the volume of money and credit, and hence a fall in prices, activity, and employment. But if the rate of interest fell or were held down below the “natural” level, it would lead to overstimulation of borrowing, and hence to an inflationary expansion in the volume of money and credit.

Though it was defective in some respects (as pointed out by Ludwig von Mises and others who improved upon it), Wicksell’s discussion of the interest rate, and of its relations to changes in the volume of money and credit, marked a great forward step in economic analysis. While Wicksell correctly saw (unlike Keynes) that the rate of interest is primarily determined by “real” factors, he took full account of the disturbances caused (and he even to some extent exaggerated the disturbances caused) by changes in the volume of money and credit.

Thus Wicksell took full account of the one germ of truth in Keynes’s otherwise naive and false theory of interest—the truth that changes in the volume of money and credit have something to do with changes in the interest rate. But Wicksell saw clearly that in the absence of changes in the quantity of money and credit the interest rate would be determined by “real” factors, and that changes in the quantity of money act only as disturbing factors which only transitionally and temporarily affect the interest rate.

That Keynes’s purely monetary theory of interest is quite naive and completely fallacious we have already seen in Chapters XIV and XV. But we may notice again here that, though Keynes’s few references to Wicksell’s contribution to the theory of interest are all disparaging (telling us merely that he rejects it), they reveal that he was acquainted with Wicksell’s contribution. Yet in his chapter on “The Classical Theory of Interest” Wicksell’s name appears only once, and then merely in a three-line footnote (p. 183). The reader unacquainted with the literature of the subject would get no hint that Wicksell had fully anticipated the only valid point in Keynes’s discussion of the “classical” theory of interest, viz., that some account must be taken of the relation of interest rates to changes in the money supply. Even his disciple, Alvin H. Hansen, calls Keynes to task for this injustice:

With respect to another subsidiary point Keynes is clearly wrong. He calls attention to the failure of the classical school to bridge the gap between the theory of the rate of interest in Book I dealing with the theory of value and that in Book II dealing with the theory of money. This is formally correct, at least with respect to many writers, but then he adds the opinion that also the neoclassical school had made a muddle of its attempt to build a bridge between the two. Now this certainly could not be said of Wicksell. This paragraph (p. 183) is far from convincing.⁷

It is hard to escape the conclusion that Keynes, in order to try to prove his own originality and the wrongness of everybody before him, failed to give a clear account of Wicksell’s contribution and sought to salve his conscience by a disparaging reference to it.

6. “Equilibrium” of an Ice Cube

While Keynes persistently refuses to acknowledge that the rate of interest has anything to do with the real factors that control it, such as investment opportunity and time-preference, he just as persistently seeks to relate it (in Sect. VI of Chap. 17 and elsewhere) to “the level of employment”:

I had, however [in the Treatise on Money], overlooked the fact that in any given society there is, on this definition, a different natural rate of interest for each hypothetical level of employment. And, similarly, for every rate of interest there is a level of employment for which that rate is the “natural” rate, in the sense that the system will be in equilibrium with that rate of interest and that level of employment.... I had not then understood that, in certain conditions, the system could be in equilibrium with less than full employment (pp. 242-243).

This entire passage is pure nonsense. It is absurd, as I have frequently pointed out before, to talk of “equilibrium with less than full employment” because this is simply a contradiction in terms. The absence of full employment negates the very concept of equilibrium.

Perhaps an analogy will help to make clearer not only why this concept is self-contradictory but why Keynesians nonetheless persist in accepting it. Drop a cube of ice into a bowl of water. The cube will cause a splash and other disturbances in the water level. It will plunge toward the bottom of the bowl, then rise to the top, and settle with about nine-tenths of its bulk below the water level and the remaining tenth above. When it has settled there, and the water is once more calm, there is, true enough, something resembling a position of “equilibrium”—or, shall we say, partial equilibrium. But the reason part of the ice cube remains above the water level for a time is because it is frozen. Complete equilibrium is not established until the ice cube has melted, and the water is all at one level. Frozen wage-rates cause frozen unemployment. When wage-rates become fluid again, “full” employment is restored.

It is, perhaps, not too difficult to account for Keynes’s misuse of the term “equilibrium” and for the uncritical acceptance of this misuse by so many writers. The older economists thought of equilibrium as an actual state of affairs. They contrasted “stability” with “disturbance,” a “period of equilibrium” with a “period of transition.” But any living economy is always in “transition”—and fortunately so. An economy that had reached completely “stable equilibrium” would be an economy that had not only stopped growing but had stopped going.

The only kind of equilibrium worth trying for is the dynamic equilibrium that is approached through competition and fluid prices and wage-rates. This must not be conceived of as a position that is ever reached, but as ever-changing positions that are approached or passed through —as the pendulum of a clock constantly approaches or passes through the vertical equilibrium position but never rests there as long as the clock is running.

Paraphrasing and reversing Grover Cleveland’s famous aphorism, we may say regarding economic equilibrium that it is a concept that confronts us, not a condition. Yet this concept is not unrelated to reality. It is a limiting notion. There is always a tendency toward equilibrium. An economy can get stuck for a long period at a point of unemployment, as a clock can get stuck if someone puts chewing gum in the works. But in neither case should the result be called “equilibrium.”

There is, finally, no such functional relationship between the level of interest and the level of employment as Keynes assumes. (He offers, in fact, neither statistical nor plausible logical grounds for this assumption.) The really significant relationship, which Keynes persistently ignores or denies, is that between the level of wages and the level of employment.

The rate of interest and the level of employment are related in any actual situation only in the sense that there is some interconnection among all economic phenomena.

¹A Guide to Keynes, pp. 159-160.

² A. P. Lerner, “The Essential Properties of Interest and Money,” Quarterly Journal of Economics, May, 1952.

³ Alvin H. Hansen, A Guide to Keynes, p. 160.

⁴ Unless one considers the amount one pays to a warehouse for storing cotton, wheat, or furniture, or to a safe-deposit vault owner for storing one’s jewelry, securities or cash, a “negative rate of interest.” But to call a charge for storage or the service of safe-keeping a “negative interest rate” is deliberately to court needless confusion.

⁵ I have not gone into the question of what would be involved if this were merely a “hedging” operation. That consideration is here irrelevant.

⁶ See e.g., Capitalism and the Historians, (ed.) F. A. Hayek, (University of Chicago Press, 1954), and Ludwig von Mises, Human Action, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1949), pp. 613-619.

⁷A Guide to Keynes, pp. 151-152.