Tag Archives: capitalism

What Level of Unemployment is Acceptable? Theory and Policy

In a previous post I highlighted unemployment data which showed that, despite all the business and economic talk of labour shortages, the rates of effective unemployment are higher than in the official ABS headline data and that there remains a problem of entrenched long-term unemployment. However, in policy terms, what we make of the level of unemployment – and what to do about it – is shaped by one’s theoretical starting point (with the following discussion of theory drawn primarily from my reading of Anwar Shaihk’s Capitalism, Competition, Conflict and Crisis).

Theories of Unemployment

Neoclassical

In the neoclassical theoretical model there should be no unemployment because in a perfect market wages would be at the price where the market cleared – that is, the demand for labour matched its supply. Any unemployment is therefore a product of market imperfections (lack of full market knowledge or mobility of resources, or pesky things like minimum wages, unions, government regulation, or welfare payments). While unemployment obviously exists in the real world, this is a “natural” consequence of the departure from the perfect competition and the setting of wages above the level of market clearance (zero unemployment). Unemployment then becomes “voluntary” – an option chosen by society and by individuals where welfare payments allow people not to work at the market equilibrium rate.

For Friedman and others, this “natural rate of unemployment” morphed into the NAIRU – the Non-Accelerating Inflation Rate of Unemployment. In theory, once you approach full-employment, there is increasing competition for labour and the price of labour increases, which drives inflation. But with a certain level of voluntary unemployment, that inflation tendency kicks in below the level below full employment – hence, the effective rate of full employment (or the desired level of unemployment) is the point just before employment “accelerates inflation”.

The graph below shows the Australian Treasury estimates of the rate of NAIRU over the last 40 years, with the pre-pandemic estimate just under 5%. While there are endless arguments about the estimates and the theoretical relationships underlying it, the NAIRU and the need to contain inflation has long been a part of the dominant rationale for maintaining some level of unemployment.

Line graph showing the estimated NAIRU declining from around 7% in 1980 to just under 5% in 2019, and the much more volatile official unemployment rate above the NAIRU in the 1980s, and again in the 1990s, falling to below the NAIRU in the early 2000s then rising after the Global Financial Crisis.

Keynesian

By contrast, those coming from Keynesian and post-Keynesian traditions assume an imperfect market and have a theory that demand drives supply and economic growth. Given that the imperfect market will be below full employment, the government can (and should) via stimulus spending boost aggregate demand up to the point of full employment. Modern Monetary Theory (MMT) fits within this tradition, but adds a jobs guarantee as an additional “automatic” stabiliser (see for instance, Kelton, pg 65-66).

In this context, the persistence of unemployment simply shows that neoliberal governments worried about inflation have not provided enough stimulus to reach the levels of full employment.

Classical

Like many classical (and neoclassical) political economists, Anwar Shaikh believes that such Keynesian stimulus measures can lead to short-term economic boosts, but in the longer term unemployment will return as a natural part of capitalist competition. Marx referred to this as the “reserve army of the unemployed”, but it is not a conspiratorial “disciplining of labour”. Rather, in Shaikh’s view ongoing unemployment is a function of the logical response of profit-driven capital to full employment.

Supply and demand processes suggest that as unemployment falls, there is upward pressure on wages. This negatively impacts on profit rate, which in turn, leads to lower investment which decreases the demand for labour. Alternatively, capital can look to counter this increasing cost pressure by increasing labour supply (by migration or capital flight to source labour overseas), and this increased labour supply will lead to unemployment. Or, in response to rising wages, capital can invest to increase productivity, which displaces labour and creates unemployment. There is no pre-determined path, but ultimately capitalist production is driven by profit not demand, and the self-governing mechanisms of profit-seeking ensure some level of unemployment.

Implications of the Different Theories

There are of course lots of variations within the three broad approaches described above, and I am not going to adjudicate these long-standing theoretical differences here. However, it is interesting to look at the implications of the recent employment data (in my previous post) for different aspects of these theories.

The existence of the sustained and significant unemployment highlighted in my previous post is obviously not consistent with the neoclassical paradigm of a perfect market, but it is compatible with the revised Friedmanite version where less than actual full employment is functionally full employment. Since many of those in long-term unemployment are never going to get jobs (as new labour market entrants out-compete them), the relevant inflationary impact will be at some level of unemployment below 0%.

That said, it is not immediately clear how the official unemployment rate relates to the NAIRU and inflationary pressures if, as we saw in my previous post, 72% of the newly-employed do not come from those who are counted as unemployed. The unemployment rate is simply not measuring the potential labour supply which is purportedly driving wages and prices.

The persistent unemployment data is also consistent with Marx’s notion of a reserve army of the unemployed, but again, the data suggests that most of this reserve army is located outside of the ranks of the unemployed. Shaikh’s analysis of capital’s response to near full-employment may be valid, but it relates more to a labour supply not-in-the-labour-force than to the long-term unemployed, who are more an outside sub-class than part of the reserve army.

But perhaps the biggest challenges of persistent long-term unemployment are posed for post-Keynesian theory and the attempts at government intervention to ensure full employment. At the macroeconomic level, having a cohort of semi-permanently excluded job seekers points to the limits of generic demand-led stimulus strategies. It is not just that there has not been enough stimulus. The barriers faced by many unemployed people may prevent them from winning most of the newly-created jobs (as jobs are filled from outside the labour force). More demand management will not (or not easily) create full employment.

A Job Guarantee

This leads many, particularly in MMT, to argue for more direct government job creation through a job guarantee (with the government or government-funded organisations “employers of last resort”). In theory, this should be good for those entrenched in long-term unemployment. Direct job creation can target disadvantaged groups, and there would be a guarantee of a job that they would probably not get in a competitive market. However, here we are not necessarily talking about people who freely move in and out of jobs as the labour market changes. The jobs need to be created and supported in a way to address the specific needs of those with barriers to employment – which is a difficult and resource intensive task.

This is recognised at least in passing by some proponents of a job guarantee, but much of their description of how such a program might work seems to suggest a workforce moving flexibly in and out of the guarantee program. Moreover, even if people with employment barriers flock to a job guarantee, if sufficient numbers of them can’t go back to the private workforce when demand for labour increases, then the macroeconomic “automatic stabiliser” can’t do its job in adjusting labour supply.

These problems may or may not be solvable, but they do mean that the Keynesian-inspired solutions are not as easy as they are often portrayed.

Other Possibilities

There are of course dangers in focusing on labour “supply-side” issues like the barriers faced by long-term unemployed people. This can and has led to reactionary “victim-blaming” policies, and to surveillance and back-to-work programs which pretend that the problem is a deficit in the unemployed person rather than the labour market.

However, if we take the persistence of long-term unemployment as evidence of systemic unemployment within capitalism, as per the classical (and even the neoclassical) theories, then perhaps we can stop demonising and starving those who are unemployed. We might accept that the labour market can’t provide income for everyone, and actually build support and value them outside the labour market.

This could be an argument for a Universal Basic Income, but it could also simply be an argument for the removal at some point of “job seeking” pretences of current social security payments. This already happens (in a minimum and controlled way) for people over 55 where mutual obligation requirements change after 12 months to basically accept volunteer work instead of employment. But the payment is still called “JobSeeker” rather than, say, a Community Participation Allowance, and in practice it may be closer to a job guarantee than a UBI.

Whatever, any income support (universal or not) needs to be at a level which provides for a minimum healthy standard of living – which clearly is not the case currently. This need to increase payments is not just for humanitarian reasons, but a recognition that the unemployed are the collateral damage of capitalist production (the classical theory) or that they are bearing the cost on behalf of the community of fighting inflation (the neoclassical model).

The acceptance of the inevitability of some level of unemployment may not initially sit well with those interested in equality and the rights of those who are struggling, but it can still have progressive possibilities. And it may be better than simply hoping for a full employment which may not be possible.

Of course, if full employment is possible, accepting less is selling out. That is why the theory matters!

“Hard Labour”: A Review of Wage Theft in the Age of Inequality

For a book on industrial relations, Ben Schneiders’ Hard Labour is a good read – interesting, passionate, depressing and hopeful in equal measure. Based on investigative journalism done for the Age newspaper, it traces the rise and exposure of wage theft in Australia over the last 10 years.

Cover Photo: Hard Labour - Wage Theft in the Age of Inequality by Ben Schneiders

I am not sure Schneiders ever gives a formal definition of wage theft, but the book is concerned with workers being paid at rates below the legal minimum or award wages. Many of the examples are familiar (including from Schneiders own reporting): Spotless laundry, McDonald’s, Coles, 7-Eleven, Woolworths, a series of high-end restaurants, and piece-work on farms and in the gig economy. That is the depressing part, but what is interesting is the different models of underpayment and wage theft.

Three Types of Wage Theft

The most straight-forward was unpaid work hours forced on workers by bosses threatening visas, or by industry norms or by the star-power of the workplace. Celebrity chefs and fancy restaurants were Schneiders’ case studies for the later – made even more egregious in some cases by corporate structures which evaded tax as well as industrial relations responsibility. But such unpaid work is also a norm in industries not considered in the book: for instance, for young academics and young lawyers needing to work their way into a decreasing number of secure jobs.

Beyond this enforced free labour, the book also details cases where the standard piece-rates of fruit-pickers, farm workers, delivery drivers and task workers in the gig economy are set so low that it is impossible to make the minimum wage. This is a long-stranding problem, but the stories of successful new union organising among migrant workers in farms on Melbourne’s periphery was one of the most hopeful parts of the book.

Perhaps the most outrageous form of wage theft was hidden in plain sight: workplace agreements which traded away penalty rates and left workers earning less than the award wage. These were negotiated with the union and were rubber-stamped by the Fair Work Commission. The book covers cases with supermarket and fast-food giants effectively sidestepping the “better-off-overall test” (although eventually many of these agreements were voided after legal challenges). Ever-present here was the union, the SDA, which not only failed to protect low paid members, but actively colluded in the negotiation of these (ultimately) illegal workplace agreements – sometimes in the context of cosy closed-shop recruitment schemes.

That matters not just for the workers affected, but for the future of unionism. In one of his most chilling observations, Schneiders notes that in 2020 only about 5% of young workers were members of unions. The rest were rarely exposed to unions, indeed barely knew they existed – or perhaps their first or only experience was with a union that had sold them out. And their remedies appeared to lie outside of union structures (in local organising, in media, or in government watchdogs). It is not a pretty picture for unionism, notwithstanding that some of the heroes in the book are organisers in other unions.

The Bigger Picture

Many of the stories of wage theft in Hard Labour are well known and have been documented by media, Senate Inquiries, and finally in Fair Work Commission findings. But the book is much more than a series of stories lifted from old reporting. It also gives us the background to the media stories (i.e. the campaign organising), the reaction to publication and the industry push-back, and the development of the issue as it unfolded over the last decade.

That story is interesting, but for me the power of the book lies in the broader context. While he says it is not a book of economic or political theory, Schneiders nonetheless puts the story of wage theft in the context of neoliberalism: the choices made to deregulate the economy and to curtail union and worker rights. In this context, wage theft is not a coincidence, nor the work of a few rogue companies. It is a manifestation of a fundamental shift in power in favour of (global) capital. For Schneiders, wage theft is ultimately not an industrial relations story, but a story of power and inequality – and I am not going to argue with a framing that starts with Thomas Piketty and the statistics on rising inequality and the accumulation of wealth and income at the top end.

The point of Hard Labour is that wage theft is both a manifestation of and a contributor to that disproportionate rise of capital incomes and inequality.

Yet despite everything, there is some hope in the book with cases where wage theft was addressed and wages paid out. Perhaps the “golden age” of wage theft is over – or perhaps (as I hinted above) we simply await another series of reports from different firms and different industries?

Time, and further activism, will tell.

Sidenote

Underlying my reading of the book was of our research at SACOSS on waged poverty. One in four Australian households below the poverty line have wages as their main source of income – and that that employment adds costs to already impossible household budgets. Not every worker below the poverty line will suffer wage theft, but many live in the same milieu of precarious work, and wage theft is inevitably part of the story of waged poverty.

Hard Labour is another reminder that (as I argued in my previous post) poverty and inequality need to be tackled in the primary distribution between wages and capital, not just in after-the-fact welfare redistributions.

Beyond Neoliberal Energy – A Thought Experiment

This is a follow-up to my previous post in response to the IEEFA report on the $10bn supernormal profits reaped by energy network providers within the National Energy Market. In that post I suggested that neoliberal ideal of energy provision via the regulation of monopoly energy transmission and distribution networks reflected neoclassical economic orthodoxy. Other schools of economic thought would give rise to different approaches to regulating the energy market, with different methods of analysing returns on investment and hopefully different outcomes of revenue and pricing determinations.

However, all that discussion was still within the parameters of a regulated market. The commentary was relevant (though slightly different) regardless of whether the monopoly owner of the network was publicly or privately owned. In this post, I want to extend the analysis, not with further economic theory, but with a thought-experiment going beyond neoliberal energy frameworks.

Imagine if energy transmission and distribution was delivered the way we provide most school education – by a government department with a goal of service provision rather than profit. This is not simply government ownership of a business enterprise (though who owns and reaps the profits of such enterprises is an important question), but rather de-commodifying energy transmission and distribution.

Imagine a government department running the network. It might be the same engineers, tradespeople and staff providing the service, but without the same need for value-capture (and the restrictions and investments that that requires). Each year (or five) the department would put up budget bids for government funding of new infrastructure required to maintain, upgrade or expand the network (much as the current network providers put proposals to the AER).

The energy network would be paid for by a (hopefully still) progressive tax system, rather than the current customer base which sees disproportionate impacts on poorer households.

Imagine – I wonder if you can?

Of course, such a proposal of government provision of energy would bring howls of “inefficiency!” from neoclassical economists, right-wing pundits and those who simply can’t imagine any other options beyond neoliberalism (which incidentally has delivered economic growth rates over the last 30 years well below those of pre-neoliberal period – but that is another story).

However, as I noted in my previous post, the current regulatory regime does not and cannot imitate market disciplines and alleged efficiencies. But even if it did reflect a real market, would the alleged “market efficiencies” make up for the $25bn of profit/costs (including $10bn “above the reasonable costs”) quantified in the IEEFA report?

That is an empirical question. Any claim of public inefficiency without an analysis of relative in/efficiencies is simply ideology and/or vested interest.

Doubtless though, at the thought of a government department providing energy network services, energy system analysts would also tell us the electricity grid and economics is all very technical and complicated, and too important for pricing and investment decisions to be left to government departments and politicians without the expertise or discipline of the market.

Granted, politicians do have limited time-horizons by virtue of our electoral cycle, and the mathematical models for determining costs and revenue are truly complex. But at the base level, is the flow of electrons down a wire really more complicated than the development of the human mind, with all the complexities of childhood learning and social contexts? The education of the next generation is certainly no less important than the provision of energy. Yet the market is an attachment (and often a parasitic attachment) to the education system in Australia. It is not its centrepiece and regulatory mechanism.

In Governomics, an excellent book published a few years ago, Ian McAuley and Miriam Lyons set out arguments and criteria for when a good or service is best provided by public service provision, and when best provided in the market. On their criteria, as a natural monopoly it is a no-brainer that energy networks should not be privatised. However, as energy is a saleable commodity, even where public ownership has been retained the default has been to a government-owned business model – publicly-owned corporations mimicking private corporations selling to retailers or consumers. The same model was adopted for the NBN, for the same reasons.

But my thought experiment here challenges us to leave the market and neoliberal energy behind altogether. It is hard, because we have been so socialised into neoliberal ways of thinking, we are losing the ability to think of different possibilities. And yet, direct government service provision is how we provide much large-scale education, health and other services.

Of course, the universal government provision of energy is not going to happen in the foreseeable future – although in a SACOSS submission to a parliamentary committee, I did argue for an iterative approach of government investment in new energy initiatives. And there are hopeful signs here. The previous Labor government in South Australia brought new emergency energy production online via publicly-owned generators (although later sold off), but on a much bigger scale we have just seen the Federal, Victorian and Tasmanian governments announce public funding for a huge new electricity transmission project across the Bass Strait, albeit through a publicly-owned corporate entity model.

More importantly though in the context of this argument, even to contemplate government provision opens a new window on the current neoliberal energy model which is failing on so many fronts. Profits from energy transmission and distribution are ripped out of the system (and the country), environmental impacts remain an externality, equity and social justice outcomes are morphed into narrow consumer rights issues, prices are increasing, and those who can afford to are bailing out via solar and non-grid options.

We need to imagine alternatives.

Blowing the Whistle on Energy Network Supernormal Profits

A recent report by the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis (IEEFA) blows the whistle on energy network owners in Australia who have reaped $10bn in supernormal profits from 2014 to 2021. “Supernormal” profit refers to the profit made over and above the return on investment the energy regulator determined was necessary to provide reliable electricity network services.

Context

Energy network service providers are the companies (public and private) who get electricity or gas from its point of production to consumers. In most states they operate in the National Energy Market, a governing mechanism established by legislation at the height of neoliberal faith in the market. However, these transmission and distribution networks are natural monopolies (as it is inefficient to duplicate expensive network infrastructure). To ensure that they do not exert unfair pricing power, the Australian Energy Regulator (AER) regulates and must approve the total revenue that the network providers can receive. This revenue amount is set in a complex determination process that is meant to ensure that networks charge consumers only what is required to cover the costs of investing in, building, maintaining and operating the networks, plus a reasonable profit to ensure compensation for investors.

Sources of Supernormal Profits

The IEEFE report analyses the difference between the profits built in to the regulatory determinations and the actual profits made by electricity network providers (gas network data was not available). The following graph from the report summarises the key contributions to these “supernormal profits”.

Graph showing $15bn normal profits and $10bn supernormal profits, from $1.9bn gearing, $3.5bn interest rates, $1.1bn Opex, $1.2bn Capex, $0.5bn tax, $0.7bn other.
Source: Simon Orme, “Regulated Electricity Network Prices are Higher than Necessary“, Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis, October 2022.

As can be seen, the biggest single factor was interest rates, where companies were able to source finance at below the interest rates factored into the regulatory model. (This was not just falling rates, but also some dubious assumptions about risk and credit ratings). However, the system also allowed for supernormal profits arising from “gearing” different mixes of debt and equity finance (with different rates of return), as well as under-spending on operating and capital expenditures and, in the early years, paying significantly less tax than was factored into the regulatory model.

The issue that has caused most controversy is the profits from incentive schemes to reward savings made from productivity improvements. The report suggests the regulatory model is overly generous in the proportion of productivity improvements allowed to be retained as profit. I don’t have a view on this, but simply note that even if the profit retained is reasonable and not “supernormal”, it only accounts for 15% of the supernormal profits identified in the report.

Implications of Supernormal Profits for Equality

The IEEFA report focuses on the implications of supernormal profits on electricity prices for consumers, and whether the regulator is fulfilling its key objective to ensure “consumers pay no more than necessary for the safe delivery of reliable electricity and gas network services”. While this is important, my interests are a bit different.

It is well-established that energy expenditure is regressive, that is, energy accounts for a greater proportion of the expenditure of low-income households than of those with higher incomes. Accordingly, the supernormal profits reaped from inflated consumer prices represent an economic flow from consumers to capital, with disproportionate impacts on low-income consumers. Where energy networks are private companies, the owners of that capital will be wealthier people – meaning that money is being syphoned from the poor to the rich. Even in the case of government-owned utilities, this flow of supernormal profits is the equivalent of a regressive tax borne disproportionately by the poor – the sorts of taxes usually opposed by those interested in equality.

Solutions and Limitations

Given these implications, this is a really welcome report – more so because the issue of profit-taking is largely ignored in energy debates dominated by prices, reliability and emissions.

Inevitably, energy market insiders with interests to protect will attack the report (often on technical detail without addressing the key question of whether the actually achieved profit-levels are acceptable). Equally inevitably, regulators will to try to ignore or resist the report’s conclusions.

However, despite that, the report itself is fairly conservative. It is very much a critique from within the system. It accepts most of the neoliberal framework of the purpose and role of the national energy market and is simply concerned with how that is being done. Indeed, the author, energy consultant Simon Orme, and presumably the IEEFA, accept some level of supernormal profit above the regulated rate, but believe that the current magnitude is unacceptable.

Further, in response to my questioning, the author and IEEFA did not believe a change to include social equity as one of the legislated objectives of the market regulation was needed, despite regressive impacts identified above. This was based on a confidence in the effectiveness of the technical proposals put forward. Yet even if that were true in theory, I am not sure that changes which would cost dominant market players millions of dollars will happen without political pressure. And in this context, a requirement for the regulator to take account of social equity outcomes would add to the arguments to implement the very technical fixes the report is calling for.

A market which operates without political context or interference, and where social outcomes are externalities beyond market logic (and regulation), is a hallmark (and failing) of neoliberalism, but perhaps the most obvious place where the theoretical framework underlies and limits the report’s analysis is in the theory and categorisation of profit.

Theory of Profit

The IEEFA report utilises a neoclassical theory[1] of profit as a cost of production, one cost among many factored into the market supply price. This is orthodox microeconomics based on an idealised market, and it is the logic behind how the national energy market is set up. The report works within this paradigm, but simply disagrees with the amount of the profit.

However, there are different schools of economic thought which start from premises other than a perfect market. As I understand it, Kalecki and Post-Keynesians incorporate monopoly and imperfect competition into theories of profit – arriving at some form of higher-than-perfect rate of profit as “normal”. That suggests to me that when the AER benchmarks energy networks’ rates of return on investment using the standard returns of energy or other uncompetitive industries (rather than an economy-wide normal rate of return), it incorporates a monopoly mark-up into its regulated rate of return. Accordingly, even energy network “normal” profit includes some economic rent above “reasonable costs”.

From a different perspective, classical political economy views profit in a capitalist economy as the purpose of production rather than a cost, and it is an appropriation of income after the fact of production, not a cost in the process of production. Investment decisions are based on expectations of profit (rather than actual profit – although there is a messy interaction between expectations and reality), but profit is not guaranteed and the rate of return on investment is inevitably contested in power struggles between capital and labour, and in real competition in the market (see Anwar Shaikh’s monumental reframe of classical economics).

One thing to draw from this is that the regulated a priori rate of return for energy network providers does not and cannot replicate market processes, disciplines and efficiencies. Indeed, where any approved investment is guaranteed a profit, there is an incentive to over-invest as investment size rather than efficiency/effectiveness becomes the base for earning profit. Even a regulator’s most technically proficient calculation of a market rate of return is based on a false premise.

However, a broader point can also be drawn from the classical tradition. If profit is by definition a capture of revenue that has been generated by production, rather than a cost of that production, then the arguments above about the regressive impacts of supernormal energy profits also apply to “normal” profits. They too are a flow of funds from consumers to capital (or in the case of publicly-owned utilities, to a government revenue stream) which places a disproportionate burden on the poor.

In summary, while the magnitude of the flow of profits is important, the Kaleckian and Post-Keynesian theories question the distinction of normal and supernormal profits in practice, and classical political economy suggests it is unnecessary in theory – and also arguably unhelpful in practice as it hides a key dynamic of the “normal” operation of the system.

Conclusion

Of course, in a capitalist economy, profit is required (though not guaranteed) as without it there would be no investment and production – no capitalism. This inevitably means there will be flows of income to those who own capital wealth. It is simply the price of capitalist production and in this context, the extraction of profit from energy transmission and distribution is not a surprise.

However, the differences in the various economic theories remind us that even a privatised monopoly could be regulated with a different set of assumptions and possibly different outcomes. What that might look like in the national energy market is beyond both my competence and the scope of this post, but once we move beyond the framework of neoliberalism and neoclassical economics, we open up alternatives to a model which is fundamentally failing – in ways beyond simply supernormal profit-making.

In that sense, while the IEEFA report is really useful in focusing on and quantifying profit-levels, it is also limited in its ambition and framework.

[1]              To be clear on definitions, by neoclassical economics, I am referring to the body of orthodox economics stemming from the work of Marshall, Jevons and Walras in the late 19th and early 20th century (Thesis Ch 1) and which proceeds from a founding assumption of autonomous rational actors in a perfect market. Neoliberalism is the political project which attempts to actively apply that market logic to understandings of economic policy, the state and society.

Class In Australia: Everything and Nothing?

A book, a red book (of course), simply titled Class in Australia. A front cover emblazoned with Sally McManus proclaiming that it is “a powerful and vibrant study of the complex realities of class in modern Australia”, and a back cover announcing an examination of class rooted in the specifics of Australian settler-colonialism which also takes account of race and gender relations. A big promise from Monash University Publishing about Steven Threadgold and Jessica Gerard’s book which was published in February this year.

Book Cover: Class in Australia, by Steven Threadgold and Jessica Gerard

With this advance advertising, I pre-ordered a copy, but I am afraid I was ultimately disappointed in the purchase. As an edited collection of essays, it is a hard ask to generate a coherent picture of the complexities of class (and that was probably not the aim), but from the opening chapters I was not sure who the audience was for the book.

Much of the work plotted issues or the various authors’ research in relation to existing academic literature, but without a knowledge of that literature it was hard to evaluate the arguments and contributions. But for an academic audience, the short generalist pieces lacked the data and detail to be convincing. My reading was somewhere in between, and I was left wanting more.

Theory

Threadgold and Gerard’s introduction argued for the importance of class as a concept, and against arguments of the “death of class”. They argue that

“class is necessary for understanding how Australian society functions, how the powerful maintain their interests, and how social and cultural institutions work to reproduce inequality”.

No argument from me on that, but they neither define class or a particular approach to class analysis, beyond emphasising the need for an open analysis of the complexity of class which takes account of gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity and the particular context. From that atheoretical (or at least non-structural) starting point I was not sure what “class” meant or was grounded in.

The first chapters designed to “situate class analysis” within the specifics of Australian experience were vague and disconnected – one leaping from Poulantzas to the class contradiction of one working class man’s love of classical music, while another described property relations in settler colonial society, but appearing fairly dated in its sources. The most theoretical of the chapters in this section set out its key definitions and assumptions, and adopted a categorisation of class based on income from paid work for owners (employers and petty bourgeoisie) and labour distinguished by control of operational skills and managerial rights (expert managers, managers, experts, workers). There was data on the numbers of people in each of these classes, and some discussion of the interplay of income, assets and culture. IMHO, it was a too dismissive of housing as a class asset (for reasons discussed here), but in any case, the chapter was too short to develop its key themes and, in an edited collection, this framework did not necessarily apply to other chapters.

Race/Aboriginality

Beyond the early chapter on settler colonial society, there were various references to race and the experience of Aboriginal people, but few were developed. For instance, in the concluding interview, Raewyn Connell contrasts Australian colonialism with South African settler society in that:

“Except in the pastoral industry and especially in Northern Australia, colonialism in Australia did not subject the Indigenous population as a labour force … That produced a different pattern of racism in Australia which we still have elements of today – exclusionary rather than hierarchical.”

This struck me as in important entry point to understanding an intersection of class and race, but I wanted a more detailed analysis of how these geographic differences played out, and how the situation changed over time. In 2016, 51% of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander adults were employed. This was still well below the 76% of the non-Indigenous people, but it shows that the exclusion from employment/class is not total. So how are we to understand the class processes and differences for both Aboriginal employees and non-employees?

Similarly, the interview with Larissa Behrendt was a story of exclusion in highlighting the discrimination she has experienced in her career. While her story is inspirational, I was not sure what it says about class that is not simply captured by the notion of discrimination (with “class” being redundant).

Industrial Relations

For me, one of the most interesting chapters was an analysis by Tom Barnes and Jasmine Ali of an industrial dispute over retrenchments in a Woolworth’s warehouse in suburban Melbourne. The analysis adopted Erik Olin Wright’s multilevel synthesis of Marxian, Weberian and Durkheimian theory (which I considered in an earlier post) to show the divisions within the warehouse staff. Wright’s work in fact appeared several times in the book, but Barnes and Ali’s chapter was a great example outlining the (Weberian) distinctions between entitlements of full-time, casual and labour-hire workers and the (Durkheimian) situational differences within the formal and informal workplace culture and hierarchy. This was framed within a Marxian logic of the power of capital in deciding production location and warehouse closure.

In the end, the union got a good outcome (much improved redundancy and rights) based on identifying the unity of class interests against capital. While that may be good news, I would have liked to have known more about how those institutional and work-floor divisions were navigated – i.e. how class was mobilised. The article also said little about race or gender intersections, so while it was a good exposition of Wright’s methodology, it did not fully situate class in the current context.

Conclusion

There is not space here to comment on each chapter of Class in Australia, which was something of a smorgasbord (or at least a tasting tray) of class discussion. Suffice to say that the cultural studies chapters analysing an SBS documentary (Struggle Street) and rural romance novels failed to convince me of the generalisability or importance of the topic. And I did not read the chapters on class and education because …

Throughout the book (and somewhat in contradiction to Threadgold and Gerard’s statement cited above), I got no sense of one (or more) classes accumulating wealth and power from their class position or at the expense of other classes. There was a sense of inequality based on class and hierarchy between and within classes, but not really a sense of exploitation or of class processes as drivers of macro-economic structures or of social change or stability. Rather, (and perhaps because they generally reject a priori theory in favour of class forming in context) class appears as the wash-up of other economic and social processes. This is unsatisfactory both analytically and politically as it robs classes of agency.

There is much to say about class in Australia, and Threadgold and Gerard set out to raise rather than answer questions. But I would argue that the class processes and conflicts which determine (or at least influence) the distribution of income and wealth at the macro-level are more important than the musical tastes, and even the education levels or voting patterns, of the players in those processes. Ultimately, that is why I am drawn to political economy rather than sociology, even while acknowledging the importance of other analysis.