The FT commentary starts informative: “The Black Death is often credited with transforming labour relations in Europe. Peasants, now scarce, could bargain for better terms and conditions; wages started to rise as feudal lords competed for workers…”. It is only how the paragraph ends that engineers scowl or nod, as indicated by these two alternative online versions:
1. “Thankfully, a much lower mortality rate means such a transformation is unlikely to follow coronavirus.”
2. “A thankfully much lower mortality rate means such a transformation is unlikely to follow coronavirus.”
The English language is an ambiguous beast; the position of the ‘a’ is crucial. The first sentence spawned a mini social media storm, providing ammunition for those wishing to howl at the uncaring nature of capitalism. The second is the substitute the FT proffered to clarify the misunderstanding. Their intention was merely to reference how the 21st century pandemic differs from the Black Death. While that is perfectly fair, I am still unwilling to free them entirely from the implications of the first sentence. Let’s take the opportunity to critique this comment by having a closer look at plague economics.
Why use the term plague? Compared to more modern scientific terms such as ‘epidemic’, it is suggestive of an altogether more biblical, toxic, and because of the evolution of our language, historical event. An epidemic is a manageable occurrence that can be contained and treated. Intrinsic to the authority of the terminology, is the fact that society is not permeated by it and can move beyond it. It is a temporary viral blip that can be controlled by science because it has been named by science. A plague still resonates with medieval connotations. It is an act of God, a product of nature. It ravages, punishes and purges. A plague judges us and measures us with death. An epidemic is not burdened with any sense of intrinsic morality. Therefore, to deny the narrative purpose when selecting ‘Plague’ over ‘Epidemic’ is unconvincing. Superficial grammatical correction cannot overwhelm the implications of this individual choice of word.
The sentence also references excessive and exceptional death rates which mobilises another key psychological feature of a plague: terror. The Black Death’s horrifying statistics ensures its outlier position: a 14th century bubonic plague which killed up to 50 million people and decimated up to two-thirds of European populations. We also can give the FT credit. Data availability has engineered a plague economics literature which does, with some irony, focus on long-term economic transformation. Labour economics provides an immediate prediction: following the deaths, labour scarcity will drive a real wage increase that reduces income inequality. Higher wages can then ensure better living standards. These effects can snowball. More income means more food. More food means greater physical efficiency and therefore higher productivity. The terror of plague can generate subsequent economic growth.
So, what’s my beef? First, there is a sleight of hand in the use of the Black Death. We know that subsequent outbreaks became less severe. Alfani and Murphy (2017), for example, write: “When the Black Death appeared, European societies were unprepared to face the threat. But as it became clear that plague was there to stay, a process of institutional and cultural adaptation occurred, a key component of how humans react to a change in their biological environment”. International information was fed into effective healthcare planning. Subsequent plague spread was curtailed, such that entire communities could escape infection. The real lesson from this history is perhaps hinted by Slack (1985) when he notes that Britain was “unlike many other European countries in having no public precautions against plague at all before 1518”. Indeed, Alfani and Murphy (2017) argue that it was still paying catchup in the 17th century. That does appear unpleasantly familiar. We seemingly have maintained this position of wanton unpreparedness, as recently highlighted in the BMJ.
There is, however, possibly another unpalatable offering provided by bubonic plague. The last significant epidemic in 17th century London involved a physician Nathanial Hodges. He writes: “The Powder also of a Unicorn’s Horn, so much cried up [recommended] for an Antidote, never answered any good Expectations, although I had several Dozes of it given me by a Merchant, on purpose to try its Virtues But that which would cure Pidgeons, Fowls, Cats, and Dogs, as the worthy Gentleman assured me that did, had yet no Efficacy Against the pestilential Virulence”. For Holland (2000), this is an example of how empiricism in science developed, such that knowledge and treatment rapidly improved. But there is a darker comparison. Does it highlight how economic rent (i.e. profiteering) can be enabled by the ‘terror’ narrative? We do already have examples which scrawl question marks. The Independent SAGE group, referring to NHS procurement, remark: “There must be reform of the process of procurement of goods and services to ensure responsive and timely supply for primary and secondary care, and community infection control”. Has the privatisation within the NHS created rent-seeking opportunity that harms well-being? The high costs, as a monetary failure to deliver and in possibly accentuating the death toll, does suggest the hypothesis might require contemplation.
Let’s finish with one last swipe at the FT. Why even refer to the Black Death when there have been numerous epidemics since? Why not refer to Spanish Flu? If you’re interested in any similar conclusion since the Black Death then you’re in difficult waters: focus is on victims, rather than any transformative impact on capital-labour relations. Indeed, the Black Death may, in labour terms, be unique. Productivity effects seem to be mostly negative and dominated by the impact on the overall stock of human capital. Recent economic research seems to have taken this to heart, as illustrated by Jordà et al. (2020): “The Black Death and other plagues hit populations with the great mass of the age pyramid below 60, so this time may be different“. Impacting more on the already retired, there is likely reduced long term economic impact. There is an alternative to this apparently tactless perspective, mind you. We should expect ambiguous effects as society adapts to protect the status quo. The Black Death outbreak, for example, led to reinforcement of inheritance rules. The protection of inter-generational family property rights invigorated economic solidity. But might such conservatism be feared now? First, to politicians it may inspire reappearance of a disparaging austerity story-line. Second, we should recognise that any transformative spill-over effects will be stymied. There are no reflex gains from these periods of crisis. Instead, you must earn them.