Wednesday, 9 September 2020

Civic knowledge

The Initiative commissioned a poll earlier this year, pre-Covid, checking on whether voter knowledge about some basic civics had improved since the last iterations of the New Zealand Election Survey.

It hasn't. 

Our report on it came out this morning; I chatted about it with Duncan GarnerJenny-May Clarkson, and Mike Hosking.

None of the results were particularly surprising for those who pay attention to voter knowledge surveys. The NZ Election Survey regularly finds that roughly half of voters don't get how MMP works; we found the same. NZES often finds 16-17% of voters not knowing the lead party in the governing coalition; we found a bit over 30% can't identify which parties are in Parliament. As usual, Green Party supporters had more political knowledge than supporters of other parties. In prior work on the NZES, that looked to be the case even accounting for Greens' higher education levels; in this one, it looked to be explained by those higher education levels. 

I had thought that this kind of thing was more common knowledge, so I learned something too! I didn't know that it wasn't!

We made a couple of suggestions about ways of improving things. Civics education is the standard one, but I'm a bit of a pessimist on that one. Nearly ubiquitous civics education in the US hasn't seemed to have done much there for civic knowledge, and one rather neat experiment found that what is taught washes out a couple years after the classes are over. In that experiment, a civil liberties group tested whether an intensive instructional module on the US Bill of Rights might improve appreciation of civil rights. They found it did nothing to change student views on civil liberties, and only increased understanding of the Bill of Rights, as compared to a control group, shortly after the course was done. Two years later, there were no differences. 

So maybe it's worth trying, but only as an experiment: try it in a few spots, see if it works, see if the knowledge holds, and see whether it's crowded out instruction on other things. 

We had a bit more fun with another suggestion, stolen shamelessly from Bryan Caplan and adapted to local circumstances. Basically, you need to improve the incentive to acquire political knowledge. Rational ignorance is a tough beast otherwise. We suggested a few options, but one fun one would just have the Electoral Commission publish ads with some of the civics basics, then give a prize to the enrolled voter who, on getting that morning's random-draw phone call, successfully answered a question drawn from those basics. Even a $10,000 daily prize would only cost $3.65 million over the course of a year - plus the cost of the ads and the staffing of course. But the all-up costs wouldn't be that high relative to curriculum pushes, for example. 

You could even think about an extended version, like I'd discussed in Newsroom a while back (ungated), that would add in questions drawn from the headlines of papers and outlets covered by the press council.

The Herald covered the report here.

Tuesday, 8 September 2020

Civic knowledge

We've a report coming out tomorrow on the dismal state of civic knowledge. It's embargoed to the morning; you'll find it on our website then. 

But I came across this helpful infographic too late to include it in the report. It summarises things surprisingly well.


Real rent control

My column in this week's Stuff papers: in praise of real rent control.

A snippet:

It’s too easy to see rental markets as a bit of a war between landlords and tenants, with landlords conspiring with each other to keep rents high and tenants pushing back through legislation restricting landlords.

Instead, landlords compete against each other for tenants, and tenants compete against each other for houses. When houses are in short supply, that process greatly benefits existing landlords; when houses are abundant, tenants do well.

But few places in New Zealand have abundant housing. After painful post-earthquake housing shortages, Christchurch became New Zealand’s most affordable major urban housing market.

In Auckland, buying the median house costs over nine times the median household income.

In Wellington and Hamilton, the median house goes for just under seven times the median household income. In Christchurch, the median house costs just over five times the median household income.

Internationally, a median multiple of five is considered unaffordable, but we’ll take what we can get.

...

Real rent control doesn’t mean legislated restrictions on what landlords are allowed to charge. Real rent control, and real tenant protection, instead means allowing such a flood of new housing on to the market that the “heritage” houses that are barely fit for livestock would never be able to attract a tenant without substantial remediation.

It means getting rid of the barriers to building housing in places where people want to live.

It means letting developers’ expectations about what tenants might want drive decisions, rather than letting city councillors forbid anything that they cannot imagine anyone wanting – like housing that doesn’t have a carpark, or smaller apartments, or tiny houses, or apartments without balconies.

And it means recognising that every new dwelling that gets built makes all landlords compete just a little bit harder against each other for tenants – even expensive new apartments. People moving into new apartments leave another house open for someone else, and otherwise would have been competing with other tenants for other existing houses.

I quoted Assar Lindbeck in the column; I hadn't known that he'd died around the time I'd filed it. Damn.  

Saturday, 5 September 2020

Herd Immunity Is Not A Strategy

Another great Covid piece in The Atlantic on what's going on in Sweden. tl;dr: They have more restrictions than people think, with restrictions on large gatherings that seem like NZ's Level 2. And 'herd immunity' isn't a strategy.

Some snippets:

Hamblin: Sweden became this reportedly textbook case of using a herd-immunity approach, or at least, they initially said they were going to.

Forman: It started off with Sweden and the United Kingdom talking about pursuing herd immunity. Then England got cold feet and Sweden supposedly proceeded with this, but they didn’t. Sweden did a lot of things to curtail the spread. What people seem to not understand is that we do things in our country, even in some areas that are “still shut down” that would not be tolerated in Sweden. They still have a ban on gatherings of 50 people or more.

Wells: Oh! I feel like the picture of Sweden I have in my mind is everyone outside without masks, enjoying the summer, all together.

Forman: For the most part, they are without masks. But they still have a complete ban on visiting retirement homes. They still have a ban on public gatherings of 50 people. Gatherings for religious practice? Banned. Theatrical and cinema performances? Banned. Concerts? Banned. And this is what bothers me. Our president did a rally in Tulsa. That would have been banned in Sweden.


...


Forman: Right. And by the way, there’s never been a real case of herd immunity through infection.

Wells: For any disease ever?

Forman: Correct. In fact, the term itself didn’t arise until just a few decades ago, when we had vaccination programs. There are cases where, as large waves of infection passed through communities, you had lower levels of outbreak in most years, and then you would have epidemic outbreaks other years. That probably is the closest thing, but that’s not herd immunity. You’re still having outbreaks all the time. You’re just having bigger waves and smaller waves.

Friday, 4 September 2020

Testing parachutes

Today's reader mailbag brings a gem of a study. An actual randomised trial on the effectiveness of parachutes in jumping from airplanes. They found no difference in outcomes between those wearing parachutes and control subjects wearing empty backpacks.

Here's the abstract:

Objective To determine if using a parachute prevents death or major traumatic injury when jumping from an aircraft.

Design Randomized controlled trial.

Setting Private or commercial aircraft between September 2017 and August 2018.

Participants 92 aircraft passengers aged 18 and over were screened for participation. 23 agreed to be enrolled and were randomized.

Intervention Jumping from an aircraft (airplane or helicopter) with a parachute versus an empty backpack (unblinded).

Main outcome measures Composite of death or major traumatic injury (defined by an Injury Severity Score over 15) upon impact with the ground measured immediately after landing.

Results Parachute use did not significantly reduce death or major injury (0% for parachute v 0% for control; P>0.9). This finding was consistent across multiple subgroups. Compared with individuals screened but not enrolled, participants included in the study were on aircraft at significantly lower altitude (mean of 0.6 m for participants v mean of 9146 m for non-participants; P<0.001) and lower velocity (mean of 0 km/h v mean of 800 km/h; P<0.001).

Conclusions Parachute use did not reduce death or major traumatic injury when jumping from aircraft in the first randomized evaluation of this intervention. However, the trial was only able to enroll participants on small stationary aircraft on the ground, suggesting cautious extrapolation to high altitude jumps. When beliefs regarding the effectiveness of an intervention exist in the community, randomized trials might selectively enroll individuals with a lower perceived likelihood of benefit, thus diminishing the applicability of the results to clinical practice.

Some American views that it's impossible to tell whether NZ's April lockdown stopped our outbreak remind me of calls for RCTs on parachute use at height.

Thanks Wayne for the pointer. 

Thursday, 3 September 2020

Quarantine costs

Guess the century:

However, as Newman shows, such harsh [quarantine] measures led to “a sense of inequity and penalization” among the middle class. These were mostly small business owners like “coachmakers, grocers, fishmongers, tailors, and innholders” who “lacked the resources to endure long periods of expenditure without income.” The middle class faced a unique threat to their status and livelihood. Not being poor enough to receive much government assistance, they also weren’t wealthy enough to flee the city—a burden not felt by more affluent Londoners. Wealthy individuals who chose to remain in the city were less affected. While they could afford to quarantine without work for forty days, they were also able to hide evidence of sickness within their spacious homes, effectively avoiding quarantine altogether.
From something I didn't know existed: the Daily JSTOR


Wednesday, 2 September 2020

Covid and the counterfactual, and the longer term

Counterfactuals are always tricky: what would have happened but for the policy change you're trying to evaluate?

With Covid it's especially tricky because, obviously, when things look riskier out there people will adjust their behaviour even in the absence of policy. They'll avoid places that look particularly risky, they'll be more likely to work from home, they'll avoid public transport if they can. Or, at least, the risk-averse will. The risk-preferring won't, along with the deluded, and the uncoordinated efforts of everyone else then might get you to a R-naught of 1 rather than an R-naught of less than one. So you get a lot of costs of activities not undertaken, but without it really being enough to knock the thing out. 

How then to evaluate the costs of policies that make some of those risk-avoiding behaviours mandatory? You can't use pre-Covid as counterfactual because that doesn't exist any more. You'll conflate the costs of the outbreak with the costs of the policy, and the two will largely coincide.

Austin Goolsbee and Chad Syverson had a crack at it in a June NBER working paper.

Here's the abstract:

Fear, Lockdown, and Diversion: Comparing Drivers of Pandemic Economic Decline 2020

NBER Working Paper No. 27432. Issued in June 2020.

The collapse of economic activity in 2020 from COVID-19 has been immense. An important question is how much of that resulted from government restrictions on activity versus people voluntarily choosing to stay home to avoid infection. This paper examines the drivers of the collapse using cellular phone records data on customer visits to more than 2.25 million individual businesses across 110 different industries. Comparing consumer behavior within the same commuting zones but across boundaries with different policy regimes suggests that legal shutdown orders account for only a modest share of the decline of economic activity (and that having county-level policy data is significantly more accurate than state-level data). While overall consumer traffic fell by 60 percentage points, legal restrictions explain only 7 of that. Individual choices were far more important and seem tied to fears of infection. Traffic started dropping before the legal orders were in place; was highly tied to the number of COVID deaths in the county; and showed a clear shift by consumers away from larger/busier stores toward smaller/less busy ones in the same industry. States repealing their shutdown orders saw identically modest recoveries--symmetric going down and coming back. The shutdown orders did, however, have significantly reallocate consumer activity away from “nonessential” to “essential” businesses and from restaurants and bars toward groceries and other food sellers.

Policies coordinating anti-covid activities in the US haven't been particularly successful - if one county managed to stamp it out, it would quickly come back through travel. 

Absent policy measures here, we'd very likely have had the same outbreaks seen abroad, very likely with the collapse of the health system which absolutely was not placed to deal with it. International travel would have been dead regardless of policy. Most, but not all, of the economic consequences of lockdowns have been inframarginal: they would have obtained even in the absence of policy. Some have been marginal. Among those that have been marginal, some have been warranted as a way of buying us elimination. Others were stupid, but potentially unavoidable given the capacity of the public sector to manage things. In the first lockdown, there was probably no way of getting around very coarse and blunt rules about who could open and who could not.

The failure to develop more nuanced rules for future lockdowns after the first one is a substantial failure. The government pursued a pile of other policy objectives, diverting effort that should have been going into Covid preparedness. Auckland's Level 3 very likely could have been avoided by better practices at the border - the entirety of the costs of that outbreak, both the costs of lockdown and the costs of the virus, could reasonably be tallied as a cost of policy failure. The extra costs imposed by a L3 that had blunt rules about who could open and who could not, rather than risk-sensitive ones, are also a cost of policy failure - the failure to devote appropriate attention to the single most important policy area facing the country when the government seemed to think it had beaten the virus and wanted to muck around in a pile of irrelevancies in the leadup to an election campaign. 

There is still much work to be done in setting policies at the border to be able to deal with the longer term, and little evidence that that work is being undertaken. Some of the costs of a closed border are fast becoming not costs of Covid, but costs of a failed policy response. Not all - even with best-practice at the border, there is no way of returning to the status quo ex ante. 

That isn't the relevant counterfactual. 

The relevant counterfactual is a border system that increases effective capacity not only by allowing more facilities to enter the system through the kind of voucher scheme I'd suggested rather some time ago, but also by shortening stays in isolation for those coming from lower-risk places who would be required to provide location tracking facility to contact tracing teams and to present for testing post-isolation. Halving a stay in MIQ doubles the effective capacity of that room. Layering on additional testing requirements and taking advantage of the rapid cheap saliva tests coming on-stream would allow shorter stays without increasing risk. You still wouldn't get swarms of short-stay bus tourists, but you would enable piles of other things to happen. Remote workers could shift here and continue to be paid by their overseas employers. Companies finding time zones and short spells in MIQ less disruptive than dealing with Covid in their home countries could shift here along with staff willing to make the move. All kinds of options start opening up. And if this is going to be around for a while, the costs of not enabling this really start mounting - along with all of the humanitarian consequences of borders that cannot accommodate travel, and all of the consequences for domestic firms stymied in bringing in overseas experts. 

My Newsroom column this week went through some of the issues canvassed in my post on the worst case. We need to be thinking more about what the longer term looks like. This thing has at least a year to run, and potentially rather longer. 

More worrying would be that, in the longer run, in the worst case where there is no vaccine and only rolling waves of illness, Goolsbee's counterfactual won't hold either. Folks will instead, I expect, largely internalise the risk in the same way that people were happy to drive cars in the 50s that had drum brakes, no seat belts, and steering columns that would kill you. And everything then gets even trickier in running the assessments of policy. Let's hope for a successful vaccine that prevents that counterfactual from obtaining.