Issues over Trump curtailing the Fed's independence

Michael Hiltzik, Tribune News Service

It's probably safe to say that almost no one following the news believes that Donald Trump has a solid, defensible reason to fire Federal Reserve Board Governor Lisa Cook, as he purported to do on Monday, notwithstanding his assertion that she is guilty of "potentially criminal conduct." It's not only that the charge she falsified information on mortgage applications is unproven, or that even on their face the accusations are thinner than onion-skin paper. It's that Trump has telegraphed his true objective loud and clear virtually from the inception of his current term: to destroy the Fed's independence so he can force it to act in accordance with what he sees as his immediate political advantage, chiefly by cutting interest rates at a time when that would be economically irrational.

He has pursued this objective in several ways. He has consistently denigrated the work of Fed Chairman Jerome Powell, questioning why Powell was ever appointed (and forgetting that he was the president who appointed Powell). He has carried on about the cost of a renovation of the Fed's Washington headquarters building, even misrepresenting the cost and nature of the project, suggesting that it points to Powell's managerial ineptitude. And now he's trying to fire Cook, one of Powell's supporters on the Fed board. Whether he can do so in the face of Cook's refusal to go is unclear, and likely to be judged on by the Supreme Court.

That leads us to the principle of Federal Reserve independence and its critical importance for the health of the US economy. The Fed isn't the only central bank that cherishes its independence. Most central banks in developed countries do too, although they solidified their status at different times — the Bank of England gaining operational independence over monetary policy in Britain only in 1997. To be fair, the character of central bank independence has always been murky. "Central banks do not and should not operate in a vacuum," Tobias Adrian and Ashraf Khan of the International Monetary Fund observed in 2019, acknowledging that "as public institutions, central banks should be held properly accountable to lawmakers and to society." Indeed, to paraphrase Finley Peter Dunne's Mr. Dooley, throughout its own history the Fed, like the Supreme Court, has "followed the election returns."

That is, it's rare for the central bank to range too far from what the public expects from government economic management. In any event, the Fed is a creation of Congress, which could theoretically expand or narrow its monetary policy authority and structure its board to make it more responsive to partisan politics.

The consensus among economists is that doing so would be unwise. Political leaders who have made their central banks subservient to their own policies have almost invariably learned the consequences the hard way, as economists across the economic spectrum observe.

"If a legislature or executive can order the central bank to print money," wrote Thomas L. Hogan of the conservative American Institute for Economic Research in 2020, "then the government can spend without limit ...which can lead to hyperinflation and economic disaster as seen in countries such as Zimbabwe, Venezuela, and Argentina."

That's a lesson that economists began urging on Trump as he stepped up his attacks on the Fed. "No one's claiming that central bankers are going to be perfect at their jobs," Peter Conti-Brown of the Wharton School said recently. "What we're saying is that they're going to be better than the alternative. The alternative is setting interest rate policy from the Oval Office, according to the whims of whatever the president wants to see that day. That's the main alternative to central banking. And that's what's under threat today."

The United States also learned the value of an independent Fed the hard way. For more than three decades after its creation in 1913, the Fed was largely a handmaiden of the US Treasury; the Treasury secretary and comptroller of the currency were ex officio members of its board, and the Treasury secretary presided over its meetings.

That version of the Fed proved unequal to managing macroeconomic policy as the Great Depression deepened. It had few powers with which to set policy, especially with Franklin Roosevelt taking the reins of economic policy in his own hands. FDR unilaterally took the US off the gold standard in 1933.

Roosevelt eventually gave up on manipulating the price of gold and consequently the value of the dollar. He also recognised that the nation needed a firmer, professional hand on the monetary faucet. The solution came from the progressive-minded Utah banker Marriner Eccles, whom FDR tasked with remaking the Fed. Eccles is almost entirely unknown to the public, but he's revered among economic policy wonks — which explains why his name is on the Fed headquarters building.

After FDR appointed him to head the Federal Reserve Board, Eccles oversaw the drafting of the Banking Act of 1935, which centralized monetary policy in the Fed board and gave it new powers to manage the money supply. Eccles remained the board's chairman until 1948 and remained a board member until 1951.

Despite those reforms, however, the Fed remained tied to political imperatives, chiefly the financing of America's fiscal needs during World War II, policies firmly under the control of the Treasury. "We are not masters in our own house," one Fed bank governor lamented.

That began to change in 1950, when the process of paying for war expenses had triggered an inflationary spiral. The consumer price index rose by 17.6% in 1946-47 and another 9.5% the following fiscal year, thanks in part by the end of wartime price controls and the "pegging" of long-term treasury bond rates at 2.5%.

The onset of the Korean War in 1950 threatened more inflation. President Truman insisted on leaving the peg at 2.5% in order to limit the cost of government spending on the new war. Eccles and others on the Fed board feared, however, that keeping the rate from rising above 2.5% would require the Fed to keep buying T-bonds, which pumped more dollars into the money supply and fuelled inflation. The Fed wanted to allow rates to rise, which was anathema to the White House.

This concern placed the Fed in open conflict with Truman and his Treasury secretary, his crony John Wesley Snyder. The Fed and Snyder engaged in increasingly acrimonious meetings, after one of which the White House issued a communique that falsely stated that the Fed had agreed to follow the administration's demands. The Fed then issued its own statement, directly contradicting Truman's.

Truman maintained publicly that keeping rates low was crucial for the fight against communism. "I hope the Board will ... not allow the bottom to drop from under our securities," Truman said, referring to the decline of treasury prices if the board let rates rise. "If that happens, that is exactly what Mr. Stalin wants." Eccles, for his part, told Congress that if the Fed were forced to maintain the 2.5% peg, that would make the Fed itself "an engine of inflation."

The war of words continued, until Assistant Treasury Secretary William McChesney Martin took over negotiations with the Fed from Snyder, who was recovering from surgery. Martin broke the logjam. The result was the Treasury-Fed Accord of March 4, 1951, a landmark document in Federal Reserve history. The accord gave the Fed full rein to manage short-term interest rates in return for its keeping long-term rates within the peg until the end of that year.