Slides from my talk at the Luxembourg Income Study conference on “Inequality and the Middle Class.”
The conference papers are available online.
Lane Kenworthy
Slides from my talk at the Luxembourg Income Study conference on “Inequality and the Middle Class.”
The conference papers are available online.
Lecture slides for the “America and the World” section of my Social Issues in America course:
Soccernomics (U.K. title: Why England Lose) is an attempt by Simon Kuper, a sports journalist, and Stefan Szymanski, a sports economist, to understand the world’s most popular sport based on data rather than lore and cliché. If you’re partial to soccer or interested in sports analysis, it’s a good read. Among the book’s many interesting findings and arguments: soccer fans don’t like equality among teams; the best club teams currently reside in midsize industrial cities such as Manchester, Barcelona, and Turin, but domination likely will shift to postindustrial multicultural giants like London, Paris, Istanbul, and Moscow; soccer will succeed in the U.S. and the U.S. will succeed in soccer irrespective of how the Major Soccer League (MLS) fares; poverty does not make people or countries better at soccer.
The book’s lead chapter tries to answer the question “Why does England lose?” Why has England’s national team fared so poorly in the (quadrennial) World Cup since its one and only triumph in 1966? This is, the authors note, “perhaps the greatest question in English sports.”
England has a rich soccer history. It is one of only seven countries to have won a World Cup. It ranks fifth all-time in World Cup matches played (55) and wins (25). Its club teams have been highly successful; between 1970 and 2006 an English team won the world’s top club competition, Europe’s Champions League, nine times, which compares favorably to Germany (6), Italy (6), the Netherlands (6), and Spain (5). Yet England won none of the ten World Cups played during that span. Indeed, it never reached the finals, and made it to the semifinals only once. Why?
Kuper and Szymanski begin by dismissing the popular notion that the problem lies in English clubs’ overreliance on foreign players, which supposedly hinders the development of native talent. I agree with their skepticism here. Then they show that a large share of England’s national team players are from working-class households, and they suggest it would be good if more were recruited from the middle class. But they don’t look to see if other more successful countries have done that. They then say England has suffered from being outside the continental European soccer knowledge network. As a result, while other leading European national teams shifted to a rapid short passing game, English soccer remained wedded to a “kick-and-rush” style. But they don’t address the obvious question of why, if the kick-and-rush style contributed to failure in the World Cup, it yielded such success at the club level during the same period.
Ultimately, Kuper and Szymanski assert that the question “Why does England lose?” is wrongheaded, for England’s national team actually hasn’t performed too badly. Here they turn away from World Cup results and look at goal difference in all games played by the national team. They examine all countries’ national teams over the period 1980 to 2001 and discover that GDP per capita, population, and number of matches played since 1872 are helpful predictors. They find that England’s team has done, relative to what this formula predicts, about as well as those of Germany, Italy, Argentina, and France.
Yet here the authors are, I think, trying to be a bit too clever. England truly has underperformed in the past ten World Cups. Kuper and Szymanski note that “Any mathematician would say it’s absurd to expect England to win the World Cup … random factors play an outsize role in determining the winner.” Okay, fair enough. So let’s use getting to the semifinals as the benchmark. Over the past four decades eight nations have dominated world soccer: Argentina, Brazil, England, France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, and Spain. The following chart shows how these countries have fared in reaching the World Cup semis since 1970. England’s record is second-worst.

How well should England have done? We can predict these countries’ recent World Cup success pretty well by looking at their historical performance. The following chart plots the number of semifinals reached in the ten World Cups since 1970 by each country’s World Cup match wins over the entire history of the tournament, from 1930 to 2006. Given its overall number of match victories, England ought to have reached the semifinals three times since 1970, rather than just once.

What accounts for England’s poor results? I think it’s a fairly simple story. First, it helps to host the World Cup tournament. These countries have hosted six of the past ten, and in five of those six instances the host made it to the semifinals or beyond: Germany in 1974 and 2006, Argentina in 1978, Italy in 1990, and France in 1998. (Only Spain in 1982 failed.) England didn’t host any. Second, you need to do okay — not great, but okay — in matches decided on penalty kicks. Penalty kick shootouts have been used in the World Cup since 1982. In the seven tournaments from 1982 to 2006, England was eliminated on penalty kicks three times, with not a single penalty-kick win. In contrast, Germany is 4-0 in penalty-kick shootouts, Argentina is 3-1, Brazil is 2-1, and France is 2-2. Only Italy, at 1-3, rivals England’s record of futility in World Cup penalty-kick matches.
Had it hosted one of the past ten World Cups and won a penalty-kick shootout in either 1998 or 2006, England’s semifinals appearances might well have jumped from one to three, putting it right at the expected number.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here. I’ve been busy working on a book, among other things. I’ll try to get back to it soon.
In the meantime, Saturday’s Financial Times had two nice pieces on France:
The myth of Eurabia, by Simon Kuper
Vive la différence, by Donald Morrison
In a Financial Times op-ed, Matthew Engel says
This month, it was revealed that the UK’s Gini coefficient, measuring inequality between rich and poor, had reached its highest level on record — after the longest period of Labour government ever. You do not have to be a Labour voter to wonder what, then, has been the point of it all.
I wouldn’t want to offer a full-scale defense of the Labour governments’ strategy (see ch. 11 of this book for my views), but there is a reasonable response to this particular challenge. Inequality of market incomes has been increasing almost everywhere. Arguably, it has risen less, and government has done more to mitigate its impact, under Labour than would have been the case under the Conservatives. It’s impossible to know that for certain, of course, but the following data on inflation-adjusted income growth during the most recent periods of Conservative and Labour rule are consistent with this assertion.

In a new CEPR report, John Schmitt, Hye Jin Rho, and Shawn Fremstad note that while the U.S. unemployment rate had been lower than those of many rich European countries in the 1980s and 1990s, it now has caught up to and surpassed most of them. In March of this year our unemployment rate was tied for fourth-highest among the major OECD nations. This, they say, “has turned the case for the U.S. model almost entirely on its head.” (Floyd Norris in the New York Times and John Quiggin at Crooked Timber have also picked up this story.)
I’m sympathetic to the conclusion, but I’d prefer it to be based on a different measure of labor market performance.
The unemployment rate is calculated as the number of people looking for work but without a job (unemployed) divided by the number of people either employed or unemployed. Its weakness is that it takes no account of people who aren’t seeking work because they doubt they could find a satisfactory job or have given up trying. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics has broader unemployment measures that try to incorporate this, but there aren’t cross-nationally comparable data for those measures.
If our interest is in an economy’s success in creating jobs, a better indicator for cross-country comparison is the employment rate: the share of working-age people (age 15 to 64 is the standard) that are employed. The following chart shows employment rates for the two most recent business-cycle peak years: 2000 and 2007. The U.S. is one of just a few nations in which the employment rate declined during this period, though it’s in the middle of the pack rather than at the bottom.

What’s happened since then? Employment rates aren’t updated as regularly as unemployment rates, so recent trends are more difficult to judge. The data below are the best I can do at the moment. They show percentage change in the number (not share) of people employed from the fourth quarter of 2007 to the fourth quarter of 2008, and for a few countries to the first quarter of 2009. Our economy has lost more jobs — 4.5%, or about 6.5 million jobs — than most others.

The American labor market hasn’t been the worst at creating and maintaining jobs in the 2000s (though bear in mind that we’re talking here solely about the number of jobs, not their quality). Yet as Schmitt, Rho, and Fremstad rightly suggest, things have changed sharply relative to the 1980s and 1990s when our performance was near the top of the comparative heap.
I grew up playing soccer and continue to enjoy the game, but my interest as a spectator has waxed and waned over the years. I’ve never been loyal to a particular team in a way that leads one to stay tuned even when times aren’t good, so my attentiveness hinges largely on the quality of the teams I’m able to watch. Two things have helped to rekindle it in recent years. One is television coverage of the English and Italian leagues via Fox Soccer Channel. The other is globalization. The European clubs (see the chart below) with the most money, and to some extent tradition, are able to lure the best players from all over the world — from Argentina to the Ivory Coast. The resulting concentration of talent makes these teams much more attractive to watch than was the case when many had only two or three foreign players. The combinations don’t always work; bloated egos and lack of chemistry sometimes get in the way. But on the whole, this has been a boon for fans with TV access and no allegiance to a club or country that’s been left behind by this process.
This year has been especially pleasurable, because Barcelona have a delightful team. Their front five — Lionel Messi (Argentina), Samuel Eto’o (Cameroon), Thierry Henry (France), Andrés Iniesta (Spain), and Xavi Hernández (Spain) — are a joy to watch. Messi has more skill on the ball than anyone since Diego Maradona and is probably the world’s best player at the moment. Eto’o, lightening quick with excellent touch around the goal, has scored 125 goals for Barcelona in the last five seasons. Henry has been one of the world’s top three forwards over the past decade; he’s slightly past his peak form, but still very good. Xavi and Iniesta are exquisite dribblers and passers whose talents and personalities seem ideally suited to bringing out the best in Messi, Eto’o, and Henry.
As one indicator this Barça team’s quality, here’s their goal difference — average goals scored minus goals allowed — this year compared to that of the nine other clubs that dominate European and world club soccer. (Since 1990, these teams have won 14 of the 19 Champions League tournaments, including 10 of the last 11. One of them will win it again this year, as all four semifinalists are among this group.) I’ve included both regular league and Champions League matches.

If you’ve been tempted by soccer but found it boring, consider watching Barcelona play in the Champions League semifinals this Tuesday and next Wednesday (April 28 and May 6). The matches will be shown on ESPN2 at 2:45pm eastern time. I can’t guarantee it’ll be worth your time; at this stage of major competitions (the Champions League is soccer’s biggest aside from the World Cup), teams often play cautiously. But I’d advise against waiting. The style and flair of this team come along very rarely, and all it takes is a juicy offer from another club or an injury to one of the key players to destroy it.
I should say that I wouldn’t bet on Barcelona winning the Champions League this season. They’re a bit suspect defensively, and in any case in soccer, as in many sports, the most attractive team doesn’t always come out on top. But for at least some fans, the outcome is a secondary consideration when you’re able to see what Pelé once called “the beautiful game” played so beautifully.
Europe doesn’t have all the answers, but here’s one thing that merits envy (audio, 4 minutes).
The last sentence of this paragraph from Todd Moss’ book African Development caught me off guard.
Sometimes called “Africa’s World War,” the recent central African conflict has been fought mainly in the eastern parts of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC, formerly Zaire), but has directly involved at least seven countries and dozens of various militias. The war was initially sparked by civil war in Rwanda in 1994, when the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) chased the genocidal Interahamwe militia into then Zaire. Once the RPF had regained control of Rwanda and Zaire’s Mobutu was seen as protecting the Interahamwe, Rwanda launched an invasion, backed by Uganda and various Congolese factions opposed to Mobutu. The longtime Zairian leader was weak and increasingly isolated, and the Rwandan-backed rebels marched all the way to Kinshasa, deposing him in May 1997. Rwanda then set up a buffer zone along the border and continued to pursue the Interahamwe. But Rwanda fell out with the new Congolese president, Laurent Kabila, and relaunched the war in 1998. This time, Kabila was able to get help as Angola, Namibia, and Zimbabwe sent troops and halted the Rwandan and rebel advance. A stalemate ensued with the country carved up among multiple foreign armies and factions. Meanwhile, Rwanda and Uganda began to attack each other inside DRC, presumably fighting over spoils. In 2002 a nominal peace process got under way, allowing gradual withdrawal of the foreign armies and attempting to build a sustainable political situation in DRC. Estimates of the overall death toll from this war are 3-4 million, mostly Congolese civilians.
I hadn’t realized the death toll was that high. Another estimate puts it at 5.4 million. The DRC’s population is a little over 60 million.
For some perspective, here is the number of American deaths (both combat and noncombat) in our country’s major wars:
Revolutionary War: 25,000
Civil War: 625,000
World War I: 117,000
World War II: 405,000
Korea: 37,000
Vietnam: 58,000
Iraq: 4,000
Total deaths in the two world wars are estimated at 15-20 million and 50-70 million, respectively.
“I acknowledge the electoral commissioner’s declaration and congratulate Professor Mills.” These words are from Nana Akufo-Addo, who, according to the New York Times, has lost a run-off election for the presidency of Ghana by a very narrow margin. His acceptance of defeat may help Ghana avoid the type of violence produced by disputed election results in Zimbabwe, Kenya, and a variety of other countries in recent years.
There are, of course, circumstances in which the declared result is not fair and protest is justified. But nothing is more important to democracy than the normalization of peaceful transfer of power (Akufo-Addo’s party has held the presidency the past eight years). Here’s hoping this type of statement will be uttered many more times this year and into the future.
Update: Similar sentiment from Chris Blattman and Todd Moss.
In a 1980 article, Adam Przeworski tried to estimate the likely costs to workers in rich capitalist nations of a transition to socialism. He concluded that they were sizable enough to be a serious deterrent to socialist preferences.
History turned in the opposite direction: less than a decade later eastern Europe began its transition to capitalism. In The Economist‘s 2008 year-end special issue, Laza Kekic offers a two-decades-on estimate of the costs of that transition.
Following up a previous post on political opportunity in the United States and Europe, this graph shows the share of seats held by women in the main legislative body (parliament’s “lower” house) in the U.S. and nineteen other rich democracies. The data are from the Inter-Parliamentary Union. Though not far behind France, the United Kingdom, and Italy, America’s share is one of the lowest. When the new Congress convenes in January, women will hold just 17% of the seats in the House of Representatives (and 17% in the Senate). The figure for Germany is 32%. In Sweden, at the high end, it’s 47%.

A report on how women fared in the 2008 U.S. elections is here. A good introduction to cross-country differences and over-time developments is Women, Politics, and Power, by Pam Paxton and Melanie Hughes.
Lagging in one respect, but in another perhaps not so much.
Earlier this week the New York Times ran a piece highlighting skepticism about whether a black or other racial minority politician could replicate Barack Obama’s feat in the not-too-distant future in France or Germany or the U.K. There’s a good bit of truth in this.
But then in today’s NYT I notice photos of Germany’s Chancellor Angela Merkel and France’s finance minister Christine Lagarde, and this reminds me that the U.K. elected a female prime minister nearly thirty years ago.