Speculations on uncertainty: A respectful response to Hannes
from Peter Radford
Whoops. When I gave my off the cuff response to Paul Davidson little did I realize that would bring upon myself the scorn of neoclassical folks. I didn’t think they bothered with us little people.
Apparently my assertion that uncertainty is cause for the existence of firms and money is lacking in stringent support. I need to go a bit further. Please. Allow me to vent a little here.
Let’s begin by quoting Lucas. In “Studies in Business Cycle Theory”, on page 224, he says: “in cases of uncertainty, economic reasoning will be of no value”.
No value?
This, to me, is a cataclysmic problem. It eliminates economic thinking from the real world. Totally. On this basis alone we can safely ignore all and every word written by the likes of Lucas as they pertain to real world economies. For, if Lucas is right, economic reasoning is a perversion of reality and has no place there.
Why?
Because the real world is riven through with uncertainty. It is the fundamental property of reality that motivates life itself.
Let me explain.
In my non-orthodox view of things any human enquiry has to take place within reality. And our understanding of that reality rests, in very simple terms, on two major bases. The theory of matter, and the theory of evolution. Nothing we talk about, discuss, theorize, debate and generally go on about, can violate the reality as understood through those two theories. They provide us with the “ontological box” within which we exist.
What’s in that box?
We understand, again in simple terms, that all the stuff around us is comprised of bits we call particles. What these things are is still the subject of intense debate within physics, but experiment supports the idea that everything is made up of such particles. So all the more coarsely grained phenomena we take for granted resolve back to these smaller bits. Particles are held together by forces. Of which there are four. We now know this to be sufficiently proven that we accept it as a good working hypothesis of reality. Further, some of the systems of particles comprise life. Not all systems are alive, only a few. Very few. Those that are alive all are subject to evolution. That is they adapt and either succeed or fail with respect to their environment. Success or failure being simply defined as survival. Life is thus epistemological in nature.
It is necessary for live things to adapt because the environment changes. That is the systems created by the four forces are degraded by entropy. Just as the forces create, so entropy degrades. This degradation gives the illusion of the passage of time, but reality is more subtle: change is just the constant reconfiguration of matter, energy and so on as the universe plots a course through its state space. Since this state space has infinitely more disordered states than ordered states it is statistically more likely that the future will be less ordered than what we observe now. If that appears grim, cheer up because the pathway the universe plots is not random: it is path dependent. There is sufficient stability in higher order systems that they don’t, in their next configuration, disassemble completely. The loss of order is more gradual, which is why we experience lifespans in smooth gradations and not violent jerks. Entropy delimits the extent of order. The four forces smooth out the trajectory towards disorder by trying to create new order. The tussle is constant, but unfortunately for us, life always loses the battle to stave off entropy.
Notice, also, that within this enormously simplified view time itself is a man made institution: it is simply a placeholder for us to manage our experience of the pathway through state space and to impose order on the constant reconfiguration around us. It isn’t a property of the universe. We merely imagine it to create an illusory order.
Next we can observe that this reality imposes itself on us through its manifold properties. Two of which we need to note: first, reality is complex; second, it is uncertain. The two are related, but not the same. For our purposes we can view complexity as the presence of order, self-organization, and emergence all of which allow us to extract information from the system in question. Uncertainty is the absence of order or the total absence of information. Also notice that this entire structure is relative. Order can appear at a higher level of granularity where it is not apparent at a lower level.
In this context we can make this observation: we can specify relationships within a very simple system; we can partially specify them within a complex system, limited by the possibility of emergence, and so on, that places a constraint on our ability; and we cannot specify an uncertain system at all. In life we confront all three, and we need to be able to deal with all. More to the point, life itself is a complex system and occupies the space between simplicity and uncertainty. In a sense it is the bridge between the two. In order elucidate my later comments on economics: it is not possible to extract information from chaotic systems, whereas it is possible to do so from either simple or complex systems. This is because in chaotic systems there is no way to compress the information into a subsequently expandable algorithm. There is no shorthand for chaos. It just is. The frontier between complex and chaotic systems represents, for our purposes, the boundary between what is accessible to us and what is uncertain.
Lastly as we ramble through this ontological box we have to note that humans, being complex themselves, have developed strategies for dealing with the reality of uncertainty: I mentioned the artifice of time. Others are our senses through which we acquire information. Our cognitive capacity allows us to process that information. We are able to walk and move around to push backs the limits of the uncertain environment around us. We have learned to speculate, theorize, and explore. We have added technologies to extend our senses – we can see further, smaller, etc. We have been able to overcome the enormous limitations of are evolved state: we can “see” light wavelengths that our eyes do not. We can “hear” frequencies that our ears do not.
What we have not been able to do, however, because we cannot, is to eliminate uncertainty. It is an irreducible feature of the universe. So it is a constant part of the reality within which we live.
This is why Hume taught us to be humble about the limitations of our knowledge, and why, more recently, Popper spoke about conjecture as a component of learning. In the face of uncertainty there can be no absolute truth, and reason is highly constrained.
This is, of course, a ridiculously compressed account, and I realize I have done great violence to centuries of physics, chemistry, and biology, but we need to get it before us in order to attack economics, because economics is situated within this reality.
In other words economics is situated within a world riven through with uncertainty. It is an unavoidable basic fact of life.
But is it the cause of things like money and firms?
Yes it is.
Humans have been very adept at creating institutions to extend their ability to fend off uncertainty. We do this in order to offset our cognitive limitations. We attempt to explain, calculate, and otherwise deal with our surroundings. But those surroundings are in constant flux. The invention of institutions is one method that allows us to rein in the wilderness of uncertainty, and impose order even if that order is illusory. Thus we invented religions and other cultural devices to explain reality. We adhere to traditions to exert stability to offset the centrifugal forces of life. And so on.
Wow, now I have done great violence to sociology and psychology as well. All in the name of economics.
Back to Lucas.
In order to pursue the line of enquiry embodied within the neoclassical tradition we have to be able to do a number of things. We need to specify limits, constraints, resources, preferences, utilities, production and so on. It is the conjunction of production, consumption, and a fixed resource set that provides the basis for the constrained maximization that suffices as economic analysis in the post Robbins – Samuelson version of theory. In other words the economy is presumed to be a simple system, fully specifiable, fully determined, and above all static. This view expunges dynamics even if there have been subsequent attempts to revitalize the theory. I agree with Pasinetti that neoclassical thought is an inversion of classical thought, where the problem set was essentially the dynamics of production. In the modernized version all we are interested in is eliciting the equations that represent the relationships within a static world. Which means we are not explaining the world at all. Economics has become an after-the-fact explication of a system that doesn’t exist.
Why doesn’t it exist?
Because it cannot be found inside our ontological box. It doesn’t take into account uncertainty. It is a utopian vision of what might exist were there no messy stuff to worry about. It is imaginary.
Moving on.
I think it reasonable to assert that both money and firms exist. That is to say we can observe them as basic facts of our surroundings. Since they appear to fall within the purview of economic analysis any complete account of an economy must accommodate them. But, within the other world of neoclassical theory they don’t need to exist, so they remain orphaned.
Why? Because in a fully specified set there is no room for uncertainty. Plus in static analysis there are no processes. Nor is there any time. In fact all the institutions we have designed to allow flexibility, to offset cognitive limitations, to act as bulwarks against the unknown, and otherwise breath humanity into a system are eliminated as unnecessary. They are swept away as irritations. They are diminished as lacking mathematical stringency. Which turns out to be no stringency at all, since it is an act of denial of the real world.
In my version of economics, institutions like firms and money exist precisely because we humans have invented ways to deal with uncertainty. Money is a simple example: it helps us mediate transactions in the absence of full knowledge of our counter-parties, it also allows us to move transaction through time. It allows us to hedge against the uncertainties we inevitably face when we try to exchange or otherwise acquire the stuff we need or want. Only if we can specify all likely future outcomes can we attribute money to risk or search. Since we cannot, uncertainty is the residual phenomenon that, alone, accounts for the existence of money.
Firms are more complex. They exist because of the risks inherent in ownership of assets that have specificity; agency relationships; gathering the costs associated with transactions and so on. They also exist because the advances in technology have made production processes vastly more exposed to uncertainty than primitive production was. These new processes need to be enclosed within a logical or conceptual space, just as much as they need to be enclosed inside a physical space. The modern business firm is a system of thought. It is an institutional construct made necessary, not by risk alone, nor by the need to gather information about transactions, but by the basic uncertainty that threatens to undermine the connectedness of the production processes.
Why do we know this?
Ironically one way is is to employ the counter factual from neoclassical static analysis which tells us risk can be specified and thus production can take place without management within a firm. The utopian market can handle risk. It cannot handle uncertainty. Whatever neoclassical theory fails to account for, we have good reason to suppose uncertainty does account for. That neoclassical theory excludes both uncertainty and money or firms, provides us with a clue that they must be related.
Further: firms adapt to their environments by a process akin to learning. They produce and then learn if that product is wanted. If it is, they make more. If not, they either fail, or they alter their production. In other words firms are engaged in with their environment. Adaptation is a feature of the real world. It is a reaction to uncertainty. We do not learn from risk assessment, because the very act of specifying risk presumes knowledge. Learning takes place in the absence of prior knowledge. It is how we acquire knowledge by extracting information from our changing environment. And change is can only inform us if it reveals something hitherto unknown. Uncertainty is thus at the root of learning.
Frank Knight said that “change is in some sense a condition of the existence of any problem whatever in connection with life or conduct”. Since humans need to solve everyday problems, one of which is the acquisition of material, goods, and services in order to thrive, it is reasonable to expect them to have created methods and vehicles to expedite such problem solution. They have to solve these problems in the face of a reality, one aspect of which is uncertainty. And another complexity. These place enormous limitations on our problem solving capacity. So those methods and vehicles reflect and attempt to mitigate those limitations.
In any analytical system that fails to account for such limitations, in neoclassical economics for instance, of course firms and money don’t exist. In all other systems, where such limitations form the basis for theorizing, like those parts of economics connected with the reality of uncertainty, of course firms and money exist.
In fact it is why they exist.
In addition to the Kauffman piece I cited on the previous thread, your case about the existence of firms is also made, to a certain extent, in Geoffrey M. Hodgson’s “Marx after Robinson: Production, Exchange, and Related Matters” (in The Joan Robinson Legacy (ed. by I. H. Rima), M. E. Sharpe, 1991).
Hi Peter. Just before reading your text (which will take a little time, I guess): I think I can relieve your mind a bit if you now feared that “neoclassical folks” bothered with you. I am too pragmatic to be pigeonholed as one of those evil neoclassicals. I have read a lot of what you might call heterodox literature, including some of the books of Paul Davidson (until I realized that they were made up the same boilerplates) and, as mentioned in another thread, the foundations book of Marc Lavoie. Also, I’d say that I am critical of much that is going on in economics and that I am a political leftist. But having spent some years between other political leftists and other people calling themselves critical minds, I found that much of their talk is a mixture of backslapping, self-certainty, and the certainty that from the fact that there are conservative ideologists who use wrong theories led by conservative values, it follows that whatever theory would be led by progressive values (or rather, some deemed-progressive gut feelings) must be right without any need for stringent argument. This seems often to be accompanied by a lot of rhetoric decoration – sometimes people are easier convincable by impressive rhetoric than by hard-headed argument; however, that mostly works for those people that want to hear exactly what you tell them. This is, for example, the reason why I do not read the “billyblog” anymore – it was filled up with arrogant sermon. This kind of sermon can convince some people, but when they later have to defend something they have read, they can only say “lalala, I don’t hear what you are saying” or “I don’t believe you, you are wrong anyway”. That’s not the way academic discussions should end.
Hannes: I take your points. In fact I agree with you. Debate is essential, and it should force us all to think about what we say and believe. Which is why I appreciated your comments on my earlier posts here and tried to respond. Whether I succeeded is another matter!
Peter,
Just to comment that I think you have broadly summarised the rationale for considering economies to be complex systems whose development is intrinsically not predictable – because to do so would require an infinite amount of knowledge. Since the point of a theory is to be a useful guide to how the world works, the static, prescribable neoclassical theory is irrelevant to the observable world – radically different from it and utterly useless as a guide.
I hadn’t thought of money as a result of uncertainty, rather as a means to “split” barter – half now, half later, possibly with someone else (the insight of E.C. Riegel). But I see if the future were known you wouldn’t need the contract implicit in money to mediate – you would just know you’d be repaid.
This gets to what I think is the most fundamental *implication* of money, which is that it connects the future with the present, and therefore operates on time derivatives of economic variables. It is thus crucial to the dynamical development of the system. And utterly missed by neoclassical theory.
Okay, I’ll skip over the introductory part (physics to sociology). I don’t have anything to say about this except for that up to that point I am not too sure what exactly “uncertainty” will mean in your text. I mean, okay, you say: “Uncertainty is the absence of order or the total absence of information.” Okay, so uncertainty means “We don’t have information at all.” Let’s see what follows from that later in the text.
What you classify as neoclassical would be the opposite of that: Everything is specified and so “the economy is presumed to be a simple system, fully specifiable, fully determined, and above all static.” Of course, there must be something about the words “dynamic” and “static” that is quite different from the way they are usually used in economics, as much of the literature is filled with Hamilton-Jacobi-Bellman quations etc. It would be useful to understand that point and to understand in which way Pasinetti’s system would be able to be truly dynamic. From Book III of “Keynes and the Cambridge Keynesians”, I did not really get it. To my impression, market processes or anything like that are not so much modelled in Sraffian systems as their results (like a common rate of profit to all commodities) are just assumed – and that very much resembles neoclassical economics. And that makes a critique of “orthodox” theory also a part of neoricardian economics, if uncertainty is the point. Victoria Chick seems to share this view. In Snowdon/Vane/Wynarczyk’s Modern Guide to Macroeconomics, you’ll find the following Q-and-A quote (surrounded by some praise for the Sraffians):
“Do you think it is possible to marry together the contributions of Keynes and Sraffa?
Chick: … as long as [Sraffians] insist that the only thing that marks theory is a concern with long-run points of gravitations then there is no reconciliation, in my view, between them and the Post-Keynesians. Again, if I can go back to the Marshallian foundations stuff and the Marshallian market, short and long periods [...] there is only one aspect to long-period theorizing in the General Theory and that is the demand side of the investment equation, not the supply side. Whether or not it turns out in the long run to have been a good idea to make that investment or not is simply never discovered. It is not a question which ever comes up, and so the mechanism which would drive you in a surplus approach to an equalized profit equilibrium is simply not present; it is not there. … If one is only concerned with long period one is wasting one’s time. On this matter, the ground between us is enormous, so that bridging it would be very difficult.”
Now you say money and firms “don’t need to exist” in neoclassical theory as “in a fully specified set there is no room for uncertainty. Plus in static analysis there are no processes. Nor is there any time.” I have to admit, that confuses me. In the mostly neoclassical stuff I read, nearly everything is about dynamics and time. (And uncertainty, but maybe you mean something different.) It’s, for example, literature about how to deal with the threat of climate change. That literature consists of dynamic models. And Richard Tol, for example, has written a survey (Journal of Economic Perspectives) about how much the estimations for climate change costs differ, trying to deal with uncertainty.
Now of course many neoclassical models are so simple that money does not really take a place in them. If, for example, all markets are cleared in infinitely short time before moving to the next unit of infinitely short time, then you don’t need markets. However, that is a modelling simplification. If that distorted picture does tell us enough about the world, fine. If it does not, then let’s change it. But then show me how – and please consider that I will not accept diffuse talking that lets people claim just everything and anything. Show me a theory, show me what it predicts and what it doesn’t. While I know that, for example, game theory can justify anything if you choose the right game, at least it tells you what to expect from a certain game when you know the parameters.
I cannot see where “uncertainty is the residual phenomenon that, alone, accounts for the existence of money”. Your “proof” is very short. It goes something like “If uncertainty exists, then money. Money exists. There is no other possible explanation for money. So uncertainty exists.” First of all, I think your sentence “Only if we can specify all likely future outcomes can we attribute money to risk or search.” is not correct. Even if we just created an environment in which everybody knew all likely outcome of the system, money would reduce transaction costs and make search easier. Once that has happened, money might be a useful hedge against risk (and not only against uncertainty). Historically, paper money has developed (inter alia) as claims to gold in the safe of goldsmiths in London. Of course, people could also have taken the gold with them, but that would have dramatically increased transaction costs. The counterparty risk you are talking about is totally accept at least by the (neoclassical) lecturers in monetary economics I heard. So there’s not disagreement between you and neoclassical economists in principle. However, I do not see where the leading part of uncertainty begins. You could just change your uncertainty word into “risk” and your argument why people use money would still work. Now you may say, “but in reality uncertainty is the important thing and our world is uncertain”. Okay, if you like. But if two concepts lead to exactly the same conclusions, then why the big fuss?
About the firm, you say “neoclassical static analysis … tells us risk can be specified and thus production can take place without management within a firm.” I have never heard of that deduction.
Then you say “Whatever neoclassical theory fails to account for, we have good reason to suppose uncertainty does account for.” So I say: That is not the way logic works. Or maybe I should just chance the sentence to “Whatever neoclassical theory fails to account for, we have good reason to suppose football does account for.” Maybe that’s right, maybe it’s not, but still we don’t know. When you say “That neoclassical theory excludes both uncertainty and money or firms, provides us with a clue that they must be related”, that seems false logic. First, money is explained with search theory and firms are a subject of new institutional economics. While I don’t know what “neoclassical economics” would mean for you exactly, I can say that both are quite mainstream. And the second problem would be: “That neoclassical theory excludes both uncertainty and alienation in modern capitalist societies or God or Collective hysteria and Hooliganism or Astrology, provides us with a clue that they must be related”. Does it? (I would not ask too loud, by the way, because before you can say knife someone’s coming up with a theory explaining that God created the universe because his marginal costs of doing so, 0, were lower than his marginal utility from creating it, 0 + epsilon)
You next say that “we do not learn from risk assessment, because the very act of specifying risk presumes knowledge.” However, that would be a very radical interpretation of risk – objective risk. To my knowledge, for theories of behavior under risk, subjective risk is totally enough. And then, learning can take place; or, if the process was not ergodic, you just had bad luck and cannot learn. However, your definition of uncertainty forbids learning. “Uncertainty is the absence of order or the total absence of information.” That means: If a process happens at least twice and you know it OR if in a moment 2 you have to decide something and you know that decision will be in any way similar to a decision in moment 1, then there cannot be total absence of information. As soon as we “acquire knowledge by extracting information from our changing environment”, we at least assume that your definition of uncertainty does not fit. If I know that in a box there is something or maybe nothing, than I have no information and that might be uncertain. As soon as I grab a ball from the box and see that it is white, I have acquired information and thus I have destroyed your definition of uncertainty about the box. So you may now say, but there’s still uncertainty about what else is in the box. Right. But then, if uncertainty still exists to the same degree as before, then I have learned nothing from finding the white ball.
To summarize: I believe that many things that you point to are important to analyze, e.g. transaction mediation, counterparty risk and learning. However, I don’t see the big point that uncertainty makes. If everything was totally uncertain and we did not know or assume anything about the future, then nobody would keep money or found a firm: If there were infinitely many possibilites and none of them deemed more likely than the other, than exactly the moment when I have founded a firm it might just transform into green cheese; and money might simply totally devaluate. Some kind of Bayesian probability and learning approach might better describe the way people behave – and if probabilites for that are often just guesses or “as-if probabilites”, then that’s fine, too. The total-uncertainty anything-goes approach does not seem to offer a better guide to me.
[1] “It is also important to point out that we have briefly dealt with this methodological debate in this Part because neoricardian theories can be classified as “orthodox” in the sense that they also accept the in the sense that they also accept the basic assumptions of the orthodox theory … , namely perfect competition, product homogeneity, constant returns to scale.” (Gandolfo, International Trade Theory and Policy, see Google Books) As far as I know, there’s no uncertainty in it.
1. Radford: “But is [uncertainty] the cause of things like money and firms? Yes it is.”
(a) I don’t know whether Mr. Radford implies that whoever thinks otherwise is a ‘neoclassicist’ (nevertheless, I am quite familiar with Niccolo Machiavelli’s adage that “Fortune is the ruler of half of our actions, but she allows the other half or thereabouts to be governed by us”).
What I believe I do know, though, is that money is needed for much less mysterious reason than uncertainty: since men make and own variety of ‘things’, a universally agreed, or imposed, measure of value is needed in order to exchange them – call it ‘money’, ‘points’, ‘yardstick’, or whatever. Socially, it has the same function as language – nothing, however, to do with risk and uncertainty.
Indeed, money would have never appeared, had all consumer goods been freely and equally distributed to the members of the community: abolish private ownership, and you would not need money, uncertainty notwithstanding. Otherwise, it is thanks to money that claims on these goods are created in the course of their production.
If anything, money itself is a potential of macro-level risk and uncertainty, since unlike consumer goods, its production is virtually costless.
(b) Radford: “Humans have been very adept at creating institutions to extend their ability to fend off uncertainty”.
I don’t know why people create institutions or why they do whatever they are doing (my advice: let psychologists and psychiatrists try to find out).
I believe, though, that I know what the functions of institutions are. As far as business is concerned, the function of the institution called ‘firm’ is twofold – and again, nothing to do with uncertainty and risk: first, to concentrate effort in order to achieve desired goals; second, to distinguish between the private and social aspects of production.
Whilst the first is self evident, the second one needs some explanation. In the civil society as we know it, owning a firm is one thing, running it is another – by which I allude to the public interest in the realm of production (and business in general). This interest is manifested, at the very least, by regulation, and more often than not, by active encouragement and support.
Regulation has nothing to with the private lives (and riches) of owners, but a lot with the way they run their business – primarily, for the sake of ‘public good’ in the widest sense of the word (as for financial institutions, regulation has a lot to say about risk too, and should say a lot more — e.g., on insuring financial risks –, but fending off uncertainty is not these institutions’ main function).
To my mind, the public has standing also in the ways profits are disposed of, but in this context, this is beside the point (you may get an inkling from Mill’s ‘unproductive consumption’).
2. Radford (endorsing Pasinetti): “Neoclassical thought is an inversion of classical thought, where the problem set was essentially the dynamics of production.”
As far as I know, classical thought itself is rejected by he ‘progressives’, for being, prima facie, pro-market. Therefore, Radford’s endorsement (following Pasinetti) is quite refreshing. But, then, who in that camp (or should I say, our camp), would dare to point the finger at the one who single handedly threw the baby out with the bath water, namely, Keynes?
No one that I know of.
And this is a pity, not because Keynes was right or wrong, but because his representation and interpretation of the ‘classical theory’ was, to say the least, inaccurate.
In this limited context, and following Radford’s “dynamics of production”, I would focus on one, seemingly inert, item, saving. From Keynes onwards, one is taught that according to the classics, “it has been supposed that any individual act of abstaining from consumption necessarily leads to, and amounts to the same thing as, causing the labour and commodities thus released from supplying consumption to be invested in the production of capital wealth”. Willy-nilly, one was made to believe that this was the classical concept of saving.
The historical truth is quite different: the classical concept of saving was about capitalists, their business surplus, and labour, or rather, about capitalists spending their (or their fellow capitalists’) profits as wages for further increasing their (and total) wealth.
No one ever said that this is what they would always and automatically do (they could spend their profits in necessaries or pleasures, and/or save, and/or hoard, as Mill said), but by ‘saving’, they would transfer their power of consumption to the people to whom they give employment (Mill, again). You could say that already in the ’30s this was anachronistic, but like it or not, this is what classical saving was all about.
Surely, it was not about you and me putting aside some money for rainy day (which might or might not be used for investment), since, in those days, the likes of you and me could barely afford ‘food, clothing, and shelter’ even in shiny days. Yet, Keynes wanted us to believe that the classical (in fact, his own) notion of saving amounted to this: irresponsible individuals abstain from spending the whole of their income on consumption, whilst stupid economists believe that the saved money will automatically be spent on investment.
And generations of economists and politicians swallowed this picture, “hook, line, and sinker”, as the shrewd Schumpeter, another misrepresenter, would acidly put it.
Today, you and me are, indeed, regular savers, or… dissavers, and, yes, a lot has been changed since then. However, says Mill, households “save at one period of life what they purpose to consume at another”, but what is ‘one period’ for some (the savers) is nothing but the ‘other period’ for others (the retirees/consumers); and given demography, longevity, as well as the vagaries of Fortuna, the projected charts speak ominously for themselves (not for the Swedish people, though, with their ingenious Notional Defined Contribution (NDC) pension system – see http://www.issa.int/News-Events/News2/Impact-of-the-financial-and-economic-crisis-on-the-Swedish-pension-system ).
Apart from the inexhaustible saving capacity of dividend and bonus earners, what would be left, then, of saving is what has always been the real springboard of production and growth, namely, the creation of business surplus and its employment as capital.
And this, in a nutshell, is the ‘baby’ that was thrown out by Keynes with the bath water. The bath water, consisting of the early stages of the modern nation-state and civil society, should have been thrown out anyway. Indeed, Smith et al notwithstanding, modern society cannot be conceived without the active socio-economic role of government, but still, it cannot sustain itself without the classical principle of saving, i.e., consuming part of the available income, as the cost of inventing, designing and developing better/new consumer goods as well as producing the means of their production.
In other words, so long as material progress and wellbeing is connected with man-made things, classical saving will still be the ruler of half, or thereabouts, of our actions. Only by the time robots will invent, design and produce robots, its historic role would come to its happy end.
That’s all folks?
Not at all. Time constraints limit me at the moment. You, and the others, deserve a response. I promise to do that!