Depression and the War on Drugs

Jan 7 JDN 2460318

There exists, right now, an extremely powerful antidepressant which is extremely cheap and has minimal side effects.

It’s so safe that it has no known lethal dose, and—unlike SSRIs—it is not known to trigger suicide. It is shockingly effective: it works in a matter of hours—not weeks like a typical SSRI—and even a single moderate dose can have benefits lasting months. It isn’t patented, because it comes from a natural source. That natural source is so easy to grow, you can do it by yourself at home for less than $100.

Why in the world aren’t we all using it?

I’ll tell you why: This wonder drug is called psilocybin. It is a Schedule I narcotic, which means that simply possessing it is a federal crime in the United States. Carrying it across the border is a felony.

It is also illegal in most other countries, including the UK, Australia, Belgium, Finland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway (#ScandinaviaIsNotAlwaysBetter), France, Germany, Hungary, Ireland, Japan, the list goes on….

Actually, it’s faster to list the places it’s not illegal: Austria, the Bahamas, Brazil, the British Virgin Islands, Jamaica, Nepal, the Netherlands, and Samoa. That’s it for true legalization, though it’s also decriminalized or unenforced in some other countries.

The best known antidepressant lies unused, because we made it illegal.

Similar stories hold for other amazingly beneficial drugs:

LSD also has powerful antidepressant effects with minimal side effects, and is likewise so ludicrously safe that we are not aware of a single fatal overdose ever happening in any human being. And it’s also Schedule I banned.

Ahayuasca is the same story: A great antidepressant, very safe, minimal side effects—and highly illegal.

There is also no evidence that psilocybin, LSD, or ahayuasca are addictive; and far from promoting the sort of violent, anti-social behavior that alcohol does, they actually seem to make people more compassionate.

This is pure speculation, but I think we should try psilocybin as a possible treatment for psychopathy. And if that works, maybe having a psilocybin trip should be a prerequisite for eligibility for any major elected office. (I often find it a bit silly how the biggest fans of psychedelics talk about the drugs radically changing the world, bringing peace and prosperity through a shift in consciousness; but if psilocybin could make all the world’s leaders more compassionate, that might actually have that kind of impact.)

Ketamine and MDMA at least do have some overdose risk and major side effects, and are genuinely addictive—but it’s not really clear that they’re any worse than SSRIs, and they certainly aren’t any worse than alcohol.

Alcohol may actually be the most widely-used antidepressant, and yet is clearly utterly ineffective; in fact, alcoholics consistently show depression increasing over time. Alcohol has a fatal dose so low it’s a common accident; it is also implicated in violent behavior, including half of all rapes—and in the majority of those rape cases, all consumption of alcohol was voluntary.

Yet alcohol can be bought over-the-counter at any grocery store.

The good news is that this is starting to change.

Recent changes in the law have allowed the use of psychedelic drugs in medical research—which is part of how we now know just how shockingly effective they are at treating depression.

Some jurisdictions in the US—notably, the whole state of Colorado—have decriminalized psilocybin, and Oregon has made it outright legal. Yet even this situation is precarious; just as has occurred with cannabis legalization, it’s still difficult to run a business selling psilocybin even in Oregon, because banks don’t want to deal with a business that sells something which is federally illegal.

Fortunately, this, too, is starting to change: A bill passed the US Senate a few months ago that would legalize banking to cannabis businesses in states where it is legal, and President Biden recently pardoned everyone in federal prison for simple cannabis possession. Now, why can’t we just make cannabis legal!?

The War on Drugs hasn’t just been a disaster for all the thousands of people needlessly imprisoned.

(Of course they had it the worst, and we should set them all free immediately—preferably with some form of restitution.)

The War of Drugs has also been a disaster for all the people who couldn’t get the treatment they needed, because we made that medicine illegal.

And for what? What are we even trying to accomplish here?

Prohibition was a failure—and a disaster of its own—but I can at least understand why it was done. When a drug kills nearly a hundred thousand people a year and is implicated in half of all rapes, that seems like a pretty damn good reason to want that drug gone. The question there becomes how we can best reduce alcohol use without the awful consequences that Prohibition caused—and so far, really high taxes seem to be the best method, and they absolutely do reduce crime.

But where was the disaster caused by cannabis, psilocybin, or ahayuasca? These drugs are made by plants and fungi; like alcohol, they have been used by humans for thousands of years. Where are the overdoses? Where is the crime? Psychedelics have none of these problems.

Honestly, it’s kind of amazing that these drugs aren’t more associated with organized crime than they are.

When alcohol was banned, it seemed to immediately trigger a huge expansion of the Mafia, as only they were willing and able to provide for the enormous demand of this highly addictive neurotoxin. But psilocybin has been illegal for decades, and yet there’s no sign of organized crime having anything to do with it. In fact, psilocybin use is associated with lower rates of arrest—which actually makes sense to me, because like I said, it makes you more compassionate.

That’s how idiotic and ridiculous our drug laws are:

We made a drug that causes crime legal, and we made a drug that prevents crime illegal.

Note that this also destroys any conspiracy theory suggesting that the government wants to keep us all docile and obedient: psilocybin is way better at making people docile than alcohol. No, this isn’t the product of some evil conspiracy.

Hanlon’s Razor: Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by stupidity.

This isn’t malice; it’s just massive, global, utterly catastrophic stupidity.

I might attribute this to Puritanical American attitude toward pleasure (Pleasure is suspect, pleasure is dangerous), but I don’t think of Sweden as particularly Puritanical, and they also ban most psychedelics. I guess the most libertine countries—the Netherlands, Brazil—seem to be the ones that have legalized them; but it doesn’t really seem like one should have to be that libertine to want the world’s cheapest, safest, most effective antidepressants to be widely available. I have very mixed feelings about Amsterdam’s (in)famous red light district, but absolutely no hesitation in supporting their legalization of psilocybin truffles.

Honestly, I think patriarchy might be part of this. Alcohol is seen as a very masculine drug—maybe because it can make you angry and violent. Psychedelics seem more feminine; they make you sensitive, compassionate and loving.

Even the way that psychedelics make you feel more connected with your body is sort of feminine; we seem to have a common notion that men are their minds, but women are their bodies.

Here, try it. Someone has said, “I feel really insecure about my body.” Quick: What is that person’s gender? Now suppose someone has said, “I’m very proud of my mind.” What is that person’s gender?

(No, it’s not just because the former is insecure and the latter is proud—though we do also gender those emotions, and there’s statistical evidence that men are generally more confident, though that’s never been my experience of manhood. Try it with the emotions swapped and it still works, just not quite as well.)

I’m not suggesting that this makes sense. Both men and women are precisely as physical and mental as each other—we are all both, and that is a deep truth about our nature. But I know that my mind makes an automatic association between mind/body and male/female, and I suspect yours does as well, because we came from similar cultural norms. (This goes at least back to Classical Rome, where the animus, the rational soul, was masculine, while the anima, the emotional one, was feminine.)

That is, it may be that we banned psychedelics because they were girly. The men in charge were worried about us becoming soft and weak. The drug that’s tied to thousands of rapes and car collisions is manly. The drug that brings you peace, joy, and compassion is not.

Think about the things that the mainstream objected to about Hippies: Men with long hair and makeup, women wearing pants, bright colors, flowery patterns, kindness and peacemongering—all threats to the patriarchal order.

Whatever it is, we need to stop. Millions of people are suffering, and we could so easily help them; all we need to do is stop locking people up for taking medicine.

How do we stop overspending on healthcare?

Dec 10 JDN 2460290

I don’t think most Americans realize just how much more the US spends on healthcare than other countries. This is true not simply in absolute terms—of course it is, the US is rich and huge—but in relative terms: As a portion of GDP, our healthcare spending is a major outlier.

Here’s a really nice graph from Healthsystemtracker.org that illustrates it quite nicely: Almost all other First World countries share a simple linear relationship between their per-capita GDP and their per-capita healthcare spending. But one of these things is not like the other ones….

The outlier in the other direction is Ireland, but that’s because their GDP is wildly inflated by Leprechaun Economics. (Notice that it looks like Ireland is by far the richest country in the sample! This is clearly not the case in reality.) With a corrected estimate of their true economic output, they are also quite close to the line.

Since US GDP per capita ($70,181) is in between that of Denmark ($64,898) and Norway ($80,496) both of which have very good healthcare systems (#ScandinaviaIsBetter), we would expect that US spending on healthcare would similarly be in between. But while Denmark spends $6,384 per person per year on healthcare and Norway spends $7,065 per person per year, the US spends $12,914.

That is, the US spends nearly twice as much as it should on healthcare.

The absolute difference between what we should spend and what we actually spend is nearly $6,000 per person per year. Multiply that out by the 330 million people in the US, and…

The US overspends on healthcare by nearly $2 trillion per year.

This might be worth it, if health in the US were dramatically better than health in other countries. (In that case I’d be saying that other countries spend too little.) But plainly it is not.

Probably the simplest and most comparable measure of health across countries is life expectancy. US life expectancy is 76 years, and has increased over time. But if you look at the list of countries by life expectancy, the US is not even in the top 50. Our life expectancy looks more like middle-income countries such as Algeria, Brazil, and China than it does like Norway or Sweden, who should be our economic peers.

There are of course many things that factor into life expectancy aside from healthcare: poverty and homicide are both much worse in the US than in Scandinavia. But then again, poverty is much worse in Algeria, and homicide is much worse in Brazil, and yet they somehow manage to nearly match the US in life expectancy (actually exceeding it in some recent years).

The US somehow manages to spend more on healthcare than everyone else, while getting outcomes that are worse than any country of comparable wealth—and even some that are far poorer.

This is largely why there is a so-called “entitlements crisis” (as many a libertarian think tank is fond of calling it). Since libertarians want to cut Social Security most of all, they like to lump it in with Medicare and Medicaid as an “entitlement” in “crisis”; but in fact we only need a few minor adjustments to the tax code to make sure that Social Security remains solvent for decades to come. It’s healthcare spending that’s out of control.

Here, take a look.

This is the ratio of Social Security spending to GDP from 1966 to the present. Notice how it has been mostly flat since the 1980s, other than a slight increase in the Great Recession.

This is the ratio of Medicare spending to GDP over the same period. Even ignoring the first few years while it was ramping up, it rose from about 0.6% in the 1970s to almost 4% in 2020, and only started to decline in the last few years (and it’s probably too early to say whether that will continue).

Medicaid has a similar pattern: It rose steadily from 0.2% in 1966 to over 3% today—and actually doesn’t even show any signs of leveling off.

If you look at Medicare and Medicaid together, they surged from just over 1% of GDP in 1970 to nearly 7% today:

Put another way: in 1982, Social Security was 4.8% of GDP while Medicare and Medicaid combined were 2.4% of GDP. Today, Social Security is 4.9% of GDP while Medicare and Medicaid are 6.8% of GDP.

Social Security spending barely changed at all; healthcare spending more than doubled. If we reduced our Medicare and Medicaid spending as a portion of GDP back to what it was in 1982, we would save 4.4% of GDP—that is, 4.4% of over $25 trillion per year, so $1.1 trillion per year.

Of course, we can’t simply do that; if we cut benefits that much, millions of people would suddenly lose access to healthcare they need.

The problem is not that we are spending frivolously, wasting the money on treatments no one needs. On the contrary, both Medicare and Medicaid carefully vet what medical services they are willing to cover, and if anything probably deny services more often than they should.

No, the problem runs deeper than this.

Healthcare is too expensive in the United States.

We simply pay more for just about everything, and especially for specialist doctors and hospitals.

In most other countries, doctors are paid like any other white-collar profession. They are well off, comfortable, certainly, but few of them are truly rich. But in the US, we think of doctors as an upper-class profession, and expect them to be rich.

Median doctor salaries are $98,000 in France and $138,000 in the UK—but a whopping $316,000 in the US. Germany and Canada are somewhere in between, at $183,000 and $195,000 respectively.

Nurses, on the other hand, are paid only a little more in the US than in Western Europe. This means that the pay difference between doctors and nurses is much higher in the US than most other countries.

US prices on brand-name medication are frankly absurd. Our generic medications are typically cheaper than other countries, but our brand name pills often cost twice as much. I noticed this immediately on moving to the UK: I had always been getting generics before, because the brand name pills cost ten times as much, but when I moved here, suddenly I started getting all brand-name medications (at no cost to me), because the NHS was willing to buy the actual brand name products, and didn’t have to pay through the nose to do so.

But the really staggering differences are in hospitals.

Let’s compare the prices of a few inpatient procedures between the US and Switzerland. Switzerland, you should note, is a very rich country that spends a lot on healthcare and has nearly the world’s highest life expectancy. So it’s not like they are skimping on care. (Nor is it that prices in general are lower in Switzerland; on the contrary, they are generally higher.)

A coronary bypass in Switzerland costs about $33,000. In the US, it costs $76,000.

A spinal fusion in Switzerland costs about $21,000. In the US? $52,000.

Angioplasty in Switzerland: $9.000. In the US? $32,000.

Hip replacement: Switzerland? $16,000. The US? $28,000.

Knee replacement: Switzerland? $19,000. The US? $27,000.

Cholecystectomy: Switzerland? $8,000. The US? $16,000.

Appendectomy: Switzerland? $7,000. The US? $13,000.

Caesarian section: Switzerland? $8,000. The US? $11,000.

Hospital prices are even lower in Germany and Spain, whose life expectancies are not as high as Switzerland—but still higher than the US.

These prices are so much lower that in fact if you were considering getting surgery for a chronic condition in the US, don’t. Buy plane tickets to Europe and get the procedure done there. Spend an extra few thousand dollars on a nice European vacation and you’d still end up saving money. (Obviously if you need it urgently you have no choice but to use your nearest hospital.) I know that if I ever need a knee replacement (which, frankly, is likely, given my height), I’m gonna go to Spain and thereby save $22,000 relative to what it would cost in the US. That’s a difference of a car.

Combine this with the fact that the US is the only First World country without universal healthcare, and maybe you can see why we’re also the only country in the world where people are afraid to call an ambulance because they don’t think they can afford it. We are also the only country in the world with a medical debt crisis.

Where is all this extra money going?

Well, a lot of it goes to those doctors who are paid three times as much as in France. That, at least, seems defensible: If we want the best doctors in the world maybe we need to pay for them. (Then again, do we have the best doctors in the world? If so, why is our life expectancy so mediocre?)

But a significant portion is going to shareholders.

You probably already knew that there are pharmaceutical companies that rake in huge profits on those overpriced brand-name medications. The top five US pharma companies took in net earnings of nearly $82 billion last year. Pharmaceutical companies typically take in much higher profit margins than other companies: a typical corporation makes about 8% of its revenue in profit, while pharmaceutical companies average nearly 14%.

But you may not have realized that a surprisingly large proportion of hospitals are for-profit businesseseven though they make most of their revenue from Medicare and Medicaid.

I was surprised to find that the US is not unusual in that; in fact, for-profit hospitals exist in dozens of countries, and the fraction of US hospital capacity that is for-profit isn’t even particularly high by world standards.

What is especially large is the profits of US hospitals. 7 healthcare corporations in the US all posted net incomes over $1 billion in 2021.

Even nonprofit US hospitals are tremendously profitable—as oxymoronic as that may sound. In fact, mean operating profit is higher among nonprofit hospitals in the US than for-profit hospitals. So even the hospitals that aren’t supposed to be run for profit… pretty much still are. They get tax deductions as if they were charities—but they really don’t act like charities.

They are basically nonprofit in name only.

So fixing this will not be as simple as making all hospitals nonprofit. We must also restructure the institutions so that nonprofit hospitals are genuinely nonprofit, and no longer nonprofit in name only. It’s normal for a nonprofit to have a little bit of profit or loss—nobody can make everything always balance perfectly—but these hospitals have been raking in huge profits and keeping it all in cash instead of using it to reduce prices or improve services. In the study I linked above, those 2,219 “nonprofit” hospitals took in operating profits averaging $43 million each—for a total of $95 billion.

Between pharmaceutical companies and hospitals, that’s a total of over $170 billion per year just in profit. (That’s more than we spend on food stamps, even after surge due to COVID.) This is pure grift. It must be stopped.

But that still doesn’t explain why we’re spending $2 trillion more than we should! So after all, I must leave you with a question:

What is America doing wrong? Why is our healthcare so expensive?

An unusual recession, a rapid recovery

Jul 11 JDN 2459407

It seems like an egregious understatement to say that the last couple of years have been unusual. The COVID-19 pandemic was historic, comparable in threat—though not in outcome—to the 1918 influenza pandemic.

At this point it looks like we may not be able to fully eradicate COVID. And there are still many places around the world where variants of the virus continue to spread. I personally am a bit worried about the recent surge in the UK; it might add some obstacles (as if I needed any more) to my move to Edinburgh. Yet even in hard-hit places like India and Brazil things are starting to get better. Overall, it seems like the worst is over.

This pandemic disrupted our society in so many ways, great and small, and we are still figuring out what the long-term consequences will be.

But as an economist, one of the things I found most unusual is that this recession fit Real Business Cycle theory.

Real Business Cycle theory (henceforth RBC) posits that recessions are caused by negative technology shocks which result in a sudden drop in labor supply, reducing employment and output. This is generally combined with sophisticated mathematical modeling (DSGE or GTFO), and it typically leads to the conclusion that the recession is optimal and we should do nothing to correct it (which was after all the original motivation of the entire theory—they didn’t like the interventionist policy conclusions of Keynesian models). Alternatively it could suggest that, if we can, we should try to intervene to produce a positive technology shock (but nobody’s really sure how to do that).

For a typical recession, this is utter nonsense. It is obvious to anyone who cares to look that major recessions like the Great Depression and the Great Recession were caused by a lack of labor demand, not supply. There is no apparent technology shock to cause either recession. Instead, they seem to be preciptiated by a financial crisis, which then causes a crisis of liquidity which leads to a downward spiral of layoffs reducing spending and causing more layoffs. Millions of people lose their jobs and become desperate to find new ones, with hundreds of people applying to each opening. RBC predicts a shortage of labor where there is instead a glut. RBC predicts that wages should go up in recessions—but they almost always go down.

But for the COVID-19 recession, RBC actually had some truth to it. We had something very much like a negative technology shock—namely the pandemic. COVID-19 greatly increased the cost of working and the cost of shopping. This led to a reduction in labor demand as usual, but also a reduction in labor supply for once. And while we did go through a phase in which hundreds of people applied to each new opening, we then followed it up with a labor shortage and rising wages. A fall in labor supply should create inflation, and we now have the highest inflation we’ve had in decades—but there’s good reason to think it’s just a transitory spike that will soon settle back to normal.

The recovery from this recession was also much more rapid: Once vaccines started rolling out, the economy began to recover almost immediately. We recovered most of the employment losses in just the first six months, and we’re on track to recover completely in half the time it took after the Great Recession.

This makes it the exception that proves the rule: Now that you’ve seen a recession that actually resembles RBC, you can see just how radically different it was from a typical recession.

Moreover, even in this weird recession the usual policy conclusions from RBC are off-base. It would have been disastrous to withhold the economic relief payments—which I’m happy to say even most Republicans realized. The one thing that RBC got right as far as policy is that a positive technology shock was our salvation—vaccines.

Indeed, while the cause of this recession was very strange and not what Keynesian models were designed to handle, our government largely followed Keynesian policy advice—and it worked. We ran massive government deficits—over $3 trillion in 2020—and the result was rapid recovery in consumer spending and then employment. I honestly wouldn’t have thought our government had the political will to run a deficit like that, even when the economic models told them they should; but I’m very glad to be wrong. We ran the huge deficit just as the models said we should—and it worked. I wonder how the 2010s might have gone differently had we done the same after 2008.

Perhaps we’ve learned from some of our mistakes.

How rich are we, really?

Oct 29, JDN 2458056

The most commonly-used measure of a nation’s wealth is its per-capita GDP, which is simply a total of all spending in a country divided by its population. More recently we adjust for purchasing power, giving us GDP per capita at purchasing power parity (PPP).

By this measure, the United States always does well. At most a dozen countries are above us, most of them by a small amount, and all of them are quite small countries. (For fundamental statistical reasons, we should expect both the highest and lowest average incomes to be in the smallest countries.)

But this is only half the story: It tells us how much income a country has, but not how that income is distributed. We should adjust for inequality.

How can we do this? I have devised a method that uses the marginal utility of wealth plus a measure of inequality called the Gini coefficient to work out an estimate of the average utility, instead of the average income.

I then convert back into a dollar figure. This figure is the income everyone would need to have under perfect equality, in order to give the same real welfare as the current system. That is, if we could redistribute wealth in such a way to raise everyone above this value up to it, and lower everyone above this value down to it, the total welfare of the country would not change. This provides a well-founded ranking of which country’s people are actually better off overall, accounting for both overall income and the distribution of that income.

The estimate is sensitive to the precise form I use for marginal utility, so I’ll show you comparisons for three different cases.

The “conservative” estimate uses a risk aversion parameter of 1, which means that utility is logarithmic in income. The real value of a dollar is inversely proportional to the number of dollars you already have.

The medium estimate uses a risk aversion parameter of 2, which means that the real value of a dollar is inversely proportional to the square of the number of dollars you already have.

And then the “liberal” estimate uses a risk aversion parameter of 3, which means that the real value of a dollar is inversely proportional to the cube of the number of dollars you already have.

I’ll compare ten countries, which I think are broadly representative of classes of countries in the world today.

The United States, the world hegemon which needs no introduction.

China, rising world superpower and world’s most populous country.

India, world’s largest democracy and developing economy with a long way to go.

Norway, as representative of the Scandinavian social democracies.

Germany, as representative of continental Europe.

Russia, as representative of the Soviet Union and the Second World bloc.

Saudi Arabia, as representative of the Middle East petrostates.

Botswana, as representative of African developing economies.

Zimbabwe, as representative of failed Sub-Saharan African states.

Brazil, as representative of Latin American developing economies.
The ordering of these countries by GDP per-capita PPP is probably not too surprising:

  1. Norway 69,249
  2. United States 57,436
  3. Saudi Arabia 55,158
  4. Germany 48,111
  5. Russia 26,490
  6. Botswana 17,042
  7. China 15,399
  8. Brazil 15,242
  9. India 6,616
  10. Zimbabwe 1,970

Norway is clearly the richest, the US, Saudi Arabia, and Germany are quite close, Russia is toward the upper end, Botswana, China, and Brazil are close together in the middle, and then India and especially Zimbabwe are extremely poor.

But now let’s take a look at the inequality in each country, as measured by the Gini coefficient (which ranges from 0, perfect equality, to 1, total inequality).

  1. Botswana 0.605
  2. Zimbabwe 0.501
  3. Brazil 0.484
  4. United States 0.461
  5. Saudi Arabia 0.459
  6. China 0.422
  7. Russia 0.416
  8. India 0.351
  9. Germany 0.301
  10. Norway 0.259

The US remains (alarmingly) close to Saudi Arabia by this measure. Most of the countries are between 40 and 50. But Botswana is astonishingly unequal, while Germany and Norway are much more equal.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at the inequality-adjusted per-capita GDP. First, the conservative estimate, with a parameter of 1:

  1. Norway 58700
  2. United States 42246
  3. Saudi Arabia 40632
  4. Germany 39653
  5. Russia 20488
  6. China 11660
  7. Botswana 11138
  8. Brazil 11015
  9. India 5269
  10. Zimbabwe 1405

So far, ordering of nations is almost the same compared to what we got with just per-capita GDP. But notice how Germany has moved up closer to the US and Botswana actually fallen behind China.

Now let’s try a parameter of 2, which I think is the closest to the truth:

  1. Norway 49758
  2. Germany 32683
  3. United States 31073
  4. Saudi Arabia 29931
  5. Russia 15581
  6. China 8829
  7. Brazil 7961
  8. Botswana 7280
  9. India 4197
  10. Zimbabwe 1002

Now we have seen some movement. Norway remains solidly on top, but Germany has overtaken the United States and Botswana has fallen behind not only China, but also Brazil. Russia remains in the middle, and India and Zimbawbe remain on the bottom.

Finally, let’s try a parameter of 3.

  1. Norway 42179
  2. Germany 26937
  3. United States 22855
  4. Saudi Arabia 22049
  5. Russia 11849
  6. China 6685
  7. Brazil 5753
  8. Botswana 4758
  9. India 3343
  10. Zimbabwe 715

Norway has now pulled far and away ahead of everyone else. Germany is substantially above the United States. China has pulled away from Brazil, and Botswana has fallen almost all the way to the level of India. Zimbabwe, as always, is at the very bottom.

Let’s compare this to another measure of national well-being, the Inequality-Adjusted Human Development Index (which goes from 0, the worst, to 1 the best). This index combines education, public health, and income, and adjusts for inequality. It seems to be a fairly good measure of well-being, but it’s very difficult to compile data for, so a lot of countries are missing (including Saudi Arabia); plus the precise weightings on everything are very ad hoc.

  1. Norway 0.898
  2. Germany 0.859
  3. United States 0.796
  4. Russia 0.725
  5. China 0.543
  6. Brazil 0.531
  7. India 0.435
  8. Botswana 0.433
  9. Zimbabwe 0.371

Other than putting India above Botswana, this ordering is the same as what we get from my (much easier to calculate and theoretically more well-founded) index with either a parameter of 2 or 3.

What’s more, my index can be directly interpreted: The average standard of living in the US is as if everyone were making $31,073 per year. What exactly is an IHDI index of 0.796 supposed to mean? We’re… 79.6% of the way to the best possible country?

In any case, there’s a straightforward (if not terribly surprising) policy implication here: Inequality is a big problem.

In particular, inequality in the US is clearly too high. Despite an overall income that is very high, almost 18 log points higher than Germany, our overall standard of living is actually about 5 log points lower due to our higher level of inequality. While our average income is only 19 log points lower than Norway, our actual standard of living is 47 log points lower.

Inequality in Botswana also means that their recent astonishing economic growth is not quite as impressive as it at first appeared. Many people are being left behind. While in raw income they appear to be 10 log points ahead of China and only 121 log points behind the US, once you adjust for their very high inequality they are 19 log points behind China, and 145 log points behind the US.

Of course, some things don’t change. Norway is still on top, and Zimbabwe is still on the bottom.