Analysis by Keith Rankin, 24 April 2026.
Inflation is a topic which has, for a long time now, been at the forefront of normative economics. Normative economics is the economics of mainstream ideology, not the economics informed by concept or science.
The latest New Zealand CPI-inflation data – released this week – have been called the ‘calm before the storm’. We know that the CPI is going to rise markedly in the June quarter. But will that be due to inflation? Or will it be due to the real costs of war; and in the context that the present war has all the elements of global cost, not just local or regional cost. If the latter, then the present ‘war of choice’ – a euphemism for a war of aggression waged by traditional allies – also becomes a ‘cost-of living crisis’ of choice.
Can we characterise other cost-of-living crises likewise, as crises of choice which have downside foreseeable consequences (though, like all crises, may have a mix of upside and downside unintended and unforeseeableconsequences)? Such choice-making would be clear instances of ‘functional stupidity’, as outlined in the 2016 book The Stupidity Paradox: the Power and Pitfalls of Functional Stupidity at Work (by Mats Alvesson and André Spicer). We may note that the stupidity paradox applies to academic workplaces as well as to corporate workplaces.
With regards to ‘unforeseeable consequences’, there is also a category of ‘underforseeable consequences’, meaning plausible consequences only imaginable by people capable of genuine critical reflection. Such people appear in all walks of life; certainly not only in academia. It was Cassandra, in Troy, who foresaw downside consequences which others could not.
Inflation as a Concept: Inflation versus CPI-Inflation
Inflation, as a concept, is defined as a depreciation of the purchasing power of money. (It means that a dollar will buy less in the present than in the past.) Deflation, thereby, is defined as an appreciation of the purchasing power of money. Thus, a symptom of inflation is rising prices. This does not mean, however, that all cases of rising prices can be categorised as inflation.
(There may be cases of inflation where prices are not rising; where falling costs – that is, rising productivity – are offset by monetary depreciation. Indeed, a comparison of the twentieth century with the nineteenth century suggests that inflation may have been more ubiquitous in the twentieth century than is commonly realised. And that much of the hidden inflation of the twentieth century, rather than being a problem, was actually an unrecognised solution to the very real nineteenth century problem of CPI-deflation.)
A depreciation of money – inflation – may be a problem, may be a solution to a problem, or it may be neutral. For inflation to be a significant problem, economists normally understand it to be an ongoing process – like an out-of-control train – rather than a one-off or two-off event.
CPI-inflation has a separate definition. It is defined as an increase in the general – that is, average – level of consumer prices. Consumer prices are prices incurred by households of people within a defined territory; typically, we think of a territorial nation-state, though we could be interested in a province, or we could be interested in a geopolitical region, or the world as a whole.
There are essentially four quite separate versions of CPI-inflation. Only three of these meet the definition of inflation as monetary depreciation. The other version is increases in the cost-of-living, and has been a substantial problem in the world this decade; this version is about real supply, not about money supply. Further, this can become a process of ongoing real-supply cost-of-living increases, not just getting through a limited cost event such as a pandemic or short war; such a process is a significant problem, but it is not inflation. An appropriate policy response is to address the real supply costs, and to stop pretending that it’s a depreciation-of-money problem.
A cost-of-living crisis of choice is a politically imposed real-supply crisis. Conceptually, such crises may be the result of ‘evil’, but more likely they are the result of ‘stupidity’ (refer Bonhoeffer, Cipolla, and Alvesson/Spicer). ‘Stupidity’ can be a technical word; indeed, even words like ‘evil’ can be given a technical meaning, just as the word ‘genocide’ has both technical and popular meanings.
Understanding these conceptual differences is very important, because different kinds of CPI-inflation problems require different kinds of policy remediation. Sometimes the best policy is a political or administrative choice to do nothing; to watch and wait. And certainly a very important part of the policy response to processes of CPI-inflation is to work out which kind – or which kinds – of CPI-inflation are taking place. Getting this analysis wrong can mean the implementation of a policy which is worse – possibly much worse – than doing nothing.
The four kinds of CPI-inflation are these:
· increases in the aggregate demand for commodities and services; this is primary inflation
· increases in the supply costs of commodities and/or services; this, in itself, is not inflation
· a corrective process facilitated, by increases in the supply of or the circulation velocity of money, and that may under certain circumstances go awry; this process is known as secondary inflation
· a process arising from the presence of different denominations of money – for example, American dollars and New Zealand dollars – and changes in the exchange prices (ie exchange rates) of one such money vis-à-vis others such monies; a process of localised inflation
One: Primary Inflation; exceptional increases in aggregate demand
This is the demand-pull inflation which dominates Economics 101 textbooks. It is commonly understood as ‘too much money chasing too few goods’; though that pithy maxim needs some unpacking.
The best way to understand demand-inflation is through the concept of a demand shock (an acute event) or a demand-stress (a chronic event). An example of a demand-shock is an unfunded increase in the demand, say, for medical services. By ‘unfunded’ we mean that it’s not offset by a decrease in demand for other goods or services. (Though there is an adjustment issue that arises from demand ‘switches’.) Demand ‘events’ or ‘boosts’ can be characterised as shocks, stresses, or switches.
An unfunded increase in spending means, essentially, a withdrawal of money from bank accounts; such withdrawals increase the circulation velocity of money. More generally, a reduction in savings is a sell-off of financial assets, noting that a bank deposit is a financial asset. Alternatively, an unfunded increase in spending means an increase in borrowing – especially borrowing from banks – that is not offset by someone else’s increase in saving; this is new money. This can be called an increase in credit. A demand shock can also arise externally, by money being sent to or brought into a country.
Demand shocks can, potentially, bid up the prices of goods and services. ‘Potentially’, because if there have been ongoing productivity increases, then more spending should be accompanied by more output, and not by higher prices. (If productivity is increasing and there are insufficient demand-boost events, then prices should be falling; that would result in CPI-deflation. Such deflation indeed was the norm in the capitalist world in the nineteenth century; including New Zealand.)
Going back to my example of increased spending on medical services, a demand shock is strictly an increase in demand because people have increased wants; that is, more purchases of ‘nice-to-have’ items. Or it could mean more people moving into older age groups, spending their savings. Or it could arise from more babies being born; as in the New Zealand ‘baby blip’ at the end of the 1980s. It does not mean more purchases of medical services arising from a general deterioration of the health of the population; this example is an increase in real costs, and comes under the label of ‘supply stress’, not ‘demand shock’.
Primary inflation is not a problem in itself. Rather, it’s a feature of the market economy working as it should do; in particular it’s a source of information that production systems are tight, and that new investment would be helpful to deal with the ‘too few goods’ part of the demand-inflation experience. In this last circumstance, higher interest rates are appropriate; they result from increased market demand for production capacity, not from policymakers raising interest rates to discourage the very productive investment that’s required.
There is a special case of demand-inflation, whereby the government sector outcompetes the private sector for new credit. This may or may not be capricious – ‘evil’ as Peter Thiel might say – on the part of government; more often it’s the government borrowing for more essential purposes than the purposes of private borrowers. The capricious case is called ‘crowding out’. In this special case, there is a role for interest rate increases; essentially to ration credit.
It is to the capricious version of this special case that monetary policy as we have come to know it may apply. But this policy – an engineered recession – arguably harms the private sector most. To achieve more private spending and less government spending, it is fiscal austerity rather than monetary austerity which is most pertinent. But even that budgetary policy of ‘fiscal consolidation’ tends to backfire, because so much private income arises from businesses supplying goods and services to government sector organisations; much private investment arises to satisfy governmental demands. Indeed, Air New Zealand always did well supplying air travel to government-connected personnel.
Primary inflation is a mix of rationing and incentive. The more rationing that is required when the economy is responding to increased demands, the more primary inflation there will be. Rising wages, at least in some production sectors, is a part of the resource reallocation process; and is also appropriate to an economy which is experiencing rising productivity.
An important coming example of primary inflation will be the increased spending of accumulated retirement savings; ie from KiwiSaver and other managed funds. Those spending from the biggest funds will be queue-jumpers at a time of inflation-facilitated rationing.
Demand-pull inflation is rationing goods and services by market price, rather than rationing by need or by equity. Most economists will say that ‘rationing by price’ is the most efficient method of rationing. So, the inflation is not really the problem; rather the problem is the unresponsiveness (strictly the ‘under-responsiveness’) of the economy that creates the requirement for rationing. The biggest potential problem is that of inequitable rationing.
Of course, unanticable demand-shocks and demand-stresses are a problem. But they are rare; most demand-events that are heading our way are fully visible, so long as we choose to look. Failure to anticipate the future market demands arising from an aging population (eg healthcare expenditures) and from maturing retirement-savings funds represents a primary-inflation crisis of choice.
Second Case: ‘Cost-plus’ CPI-inflation which is not actually inflation
It costs more to pick, from a tree, high-hanging fruit compared to low-hanging fruit. The process of moving from the easy-to-pick fruit to the hard-to-pick fruit is not a process of inflation. It is a ‘cost event’, however.
The most problematic form of CPI-inflation is the one known in the textbooks as ‘cost-plus inflation’. The only thing is that primary ‘cost-plus’ inflation is not inflation at all. Although cost-plus inflation can under certain circumstances facilitate a process of secondary inflation; secondary inflation definitely is inflation, and may or may not be an important economic threat.
Supply-cost price increases most certainly are a threat; they are a cost-of-living threat, but not an inflation threat. They relate to supply shocks (acute) and supply stresses (chronic). Supply switches may also occur; for example, as certain resources run out or become too scarce.
Examples of supply shocks are disruptions to supply chains arising from a pandemic. Such disruptions may arise from the disease process itself, or from measures taken to address the disease process; or from a mix of the disease and the prescribed cure.
Supply shocks are especially relevant today, because our globalised supply chains are technically efficient – at least in the short- and medium-term – yet vulnerable. They mean that a country like New Zealand can suffer severely if the boats stop coming; if those supply-ships are reprioritised. This century, New Zealand has become dependent on imported food.
Another form of supply shock is war. War can also be a supply stress; for example, some forever wars. The Ukraine-Russia forever war has proved so far to have been a supply-shock. Workarounds came into effect after a few months. The Israel-Iran War – which threatens to be another forever war – may prove to be more of a global supply stress. The stalemate over the Strait of Hormuz chokepoint may never return to its prewar state.
Climate change is another supply stress; as are many other environmental costs. The real costs arising from climate change keep outpacing the workarounds; and some of the workarounds – for example, air conditioning – aggravate the root causes of these costs.
Another possible supply stress is rising labour costs. Labour costs are ambiguous. Higher wages granted to keep up with supply-cost price increases are a feature that sustains secondary inflation. But higher wages arising from shortages of skilled labour – from structural labour supply issues, including demographics and impediments to migration – are supply shocks if easily remediated, or supply stresses if largely irremediable.
Supply stresses set off a process of ongoing CPI-increases; for example, as pickable or minable low-hanging-fruitgive way to ‘higher-hanging fruit’.
A fourth important supply cost – again a shock if acute, and a stress if chronic – is the use of interest rate intervention to raise capital costs; to raise the cost of borrowing and therefore of economic investment, and also to squeeze existing debtors.
Raised interest rates, as a policy measure, may generate primary deflation; the problem of falling aggregate demand. Policymakers may juxtapose a non-inflation cost-of-living crisis with a primary deflation; making it look (superficially) as if neither problem is taking place when in reality there are two separate and serious problems being brushed under the carpet.
With one ‘policy lever’, we both create a cost-of-living mess and sweep away the more obvious evidence. Hidden ooze is even more problematic than its visible form.
A fifth important supply stress is the use of restrictive fiscal policy to delay or forever postpone vital works of public infrastructure. Inadequate civilian infrastructure – and this includes education as well as engineering projects – represents one of the most potent chokepoints in the supply chain; indeed, that’s why such infrastructure is so often targeted in a war of aggression.
Restrictive fiscal policies – ironically often implemented in the name of intergenerational equity, not saddling younger generations with public debt – are a clear example of a cost-of-living crisis of choice, with the crisis being most imposed upon the very population generation for whom that public-austerity policy was claimed to benefit. The classic case here remains Ruthanasia. New Zealand’s current water-supply woes are a direct result of 1990s’ fiscal austerity. (See The $49 billion cost of fixing water infrastructure woes laid bare, RNZ, 23 April 2026.)
(A topical example – see Australian company plans $3b lignite-to-fertiliser plant in Southland, RNZ 22 April 2026 – is that if there had been public support [adequate funding, not just talk] for investment in urea-fertiliser production in Southland ten years ago, when New Zealand had been moving further in the direction of complete dependence on Persian Gulf supplies, then New Zealand’s present accelerating cost-of-living crisis might have been preempted. Investing is borrowing and spending money, not hoarding it in Sovereign Wealth Funds which play the global markets and facilitate the very wars which are a large part of the cost-of-living problem.)
Third CPI-Inflation Case: Secondary Inflation
This is the adjustment case; the situation where inflation is a natural and probably necessary part of any post-shock economic correction. (That is not to say that all secondary inflations are OK.)
This is the one that the theory of anti-inflation monetary policy focuses on; fixing a problem which is often (but not always) a part of the most efficient (and market-led) corrective solution.
Secondary inflation is one of two options for a restoration of normality once a demand-shock or a supply-shock event is over. The most obvious – though least likely – option is a simple restoration of the pre-shock status quo. Thus, in the case of a primary event connected to rising petrol prices, in this option petrol and other prices would return to what they were before the shock. A primary CPI-inflation would be followed by an equal-and-opposite primary CPI-deflation.
An in-between case would be that the higher shock-related price increases are not reversed but the CPI-inflation rate quickly returns to something like normal. (Noting that normal inflation of two percent per year is generally regarded by policymakers as better, as more efficient, than zero inflation. Normal inflation is forever providing a bit of readjustment and a bit of demand stimulus.)
Another case would be that general prices rise further, beyond the shock phase of inflation, as relative prices re-adjust, meaning that the adjustment process itself has an inflationary component; albeit a decelerating inflation as the new-normal arises. This is a process of market-led disinflation. It is not at all clear that this market solution could be regarded in any way as a problem.
The fourth variant of the post-shock economy is the extreme case. In this case, there is a surge in ‘inflation expectations’, and secondary inflation accelerates, taking on a ‘mind of its own’, supposedly leading, if unchecked by authoritarian power, to a state of hyperinflation. This is the hypothesis of accelerating secondary inflation, and real-world examples are extremely scarce. (There have been historical examples of hyperinflation in particular countries in particular circumstances; these generally come into the localised inflation case; see below.) I know of no examples of either global hyperinflation or of hyperinflation in an economically unweakened country.
Nevertheless, the Great Inflation of the 1970s has often been presented as such an example. A careful unpacking of the inflations of that era tell a different story; a story of multiple shocks of different types. The evidence is that, globally, those events represented overlapping cases of primary inflation, supply-cost CPI-inflation, and slowly decelerating secondary inflation; despite instances of many countries implementing policies that amounted to ‘cost-of-living crises of choice’. The slow pace of the decelerations were most probably due to ‘anti-inflation’ monetary policies which raised interest rates to cause stagflation. Stagflation is most-commonly a contrived mix of high-interest-rate cost-of-living crises and suppressed secondary inflation. Suppressed secondary inflation eventually leads to a primary deflation; the result is apparent CPI stabilisation, but in reality two serious problems with opposing consumer-price symptoms that cancel each other out.
As well as ‘cost-of-living crises of choice’, the adjustment process of secondary inflation is extended by misinterpretations between inflationary and non-inflationary price increases. An important example is wage-setting, whereby trade unions seek to negotiate inflation adjustments to hourly wage rates based on overall CPI-inflation and not just on the monetary depreciation. This process is called price-indexing; it is partly necessary and partly misguided, depending on the actual diagnosis of the cost-of-living event.
For countries mired in private debt denominated in local currency, the only way out, really, is secondary inflation – initially, double-digit inflation. (For small countries with a weak presence in the financial world, government debt looks to international creditors very much the same as private debt.) Mass bankruptcies (on generous terms) are another form of reset. Other options which help with private debt are expansionary fiscal policy (as in Japan in the 1990s), universal incomes, charity, and forgiveness. Fiscal accommodation (opposite of ‘fiscal consolidation’) and inflation are generally the most efficient market – or marketish – mechanisms for accomplishing a restorative reset.
For countries mired in foreign-denominated debt, then international inflation is required. (Or default and forgiveness.) Under these conditions, global interest rates should be generally lower than inflation rates. Interest rates can be negative; indeed should be, if money generally is being transmitted from many ‘have-nots’ to relatively few ‘haves’. From 2014 until the early 2020s, Denmark, Sweden, Switzerland and Japan all had negative wholesale interest rates; and it worked, low inflation and fewer other problems.
Türkiye in the 2010s has been an example of a country with high inflation and high but often lower interest rates. Türkiye is a significant global economic player; arguably unweakened, maybe even strengthened, by its inflation experience and its refusal to yield to the ‘slam-on-the-brakes’ narrative which constitutes western monetary-policy orthodoxy. Türkiye’s average annual economic growth in the last two decades has been five percent.
When necessary inflation is suppressed, capitalist economies just grind to a halt, which is a form of collapse. New warlords – eg druglord types – fill the vacuum. Capitalism as we know it cannot continue if the indebted many have to keep paying more and more interest to the privileged few.
Fourth Case: localised Exchange-Rate driven inflation
The previous three cases of CPI-inflation apply to the world as a whole, as well as to individual countries. In today’s world, each nation-state has a currency which is ‘legal tender’; for most countries it is their own national currency.
When one national currency depreciates against a ‘basket’ of other currencies, that cheaper money can be expected to buy less; hence inflation has occurred, money has depreciated. Likewise, many of the other currencies in the basket will have appreciated, on average, so they will experience monetary deflation.
Such inflation or deflation may or may not show up in CPI statistics; it all depends on what other CPI-inflationary events or processes are taking place at the same time.
Very high national rates of inflation – indeed most hyperinflations are of this type – driven by devaluations or depreciations of countries’ domestic currencies. They represent fundamental weaknesses of such countries’ economies; although such countries’ weaknesses may well be hidden from global market scrutiny for a long time (eg for several decades).
This kind of inflation is often presented as a kind of bogeyman; presented to naïve politicians as a possible consequence of not following ‘orthodox’ monetary policy. So, such politicians find themselves facing a binary choice: to have a cost-of-living crisis of choice (but to pretend its something else), or to risk an exchange-rate collapse leading to the kind of hyperinflation which Zimbabwe experienced in the 2000s. So the politicians devolve the policy to unelected central bankers; they can blame someone else while suggesting that the ‘fix-up’ will be next year, always next year.
War Inflation
Finally, a note on war inflation. Inflation has always been associated with war. War circumstances require fiscal and monetary policies that redirect resources from ‘guns’ to ‘butter’, as the postWW2 economics’ textbooks used to say. Inflation gets forever worse during a war, though the measurable symptoms of wartime inflation are typically suppressed through other forms of rationing and the deprioritisation of data collection. So, it’s commonly immediately after wars that countries’ inflation rates explode, though often that inflation subsides as debts are reset.
The USA can be different, because it alone has the privilege of printing money without consequence; generally, the rest of the world responds to an American demand-shock by producing more and exporting those surpluses to the United States. In most of our lifetimes, capitalist economies have been responsive to demand shocks and stresses. Wars, though, create supply shocks and stresses. Generally, though, it has been surprising to what extent countries at war have been able to overcome those deprivations.
War experiences show that the inflation bogey has been generally overstated; with the few cases of genuine postwar hyperinflation – like Hungary in 1946 – proving to be the exception rather than the rule.
Conclusion
Inflation is much less of a problem than it is commonly presented as. As often as it’s a problem, it’s a solution.
The biggest problem of inflation is the contrived fear of inflation. Fear of inflation – combined with popular ignorance about it – becomes an important reason why we have cost-of-living crises of choice.
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Keith Rankin (keith at rankin dot nz), trained as an economic historian, is a retired lecturer in Economics and Statistics. He lives in Auckland, New Zealand.