Is the dollar “unsustainable”?

Semantics creates belief.

Economics may be the only major “science” in which semantics predetermines conclusions. The words used are not neutral descriptions. They are analogies, metaphors, and moral judgments disguised as technical language.

A discussion may begin innocently enough with terms like “debt,” “deficit,” “borrowing,” “inflation,” and “crowding out.” But each of those words carries emotional and causal implications long before any analysis begins.

Take the word “debt.” In ordinary life, debt implies danger. It implies insolvency, burden, dependence, and eventual failure to repay from scarce resources.

Household debt can bankrupt a family. Corporate debt can destroy a company. So, when people hear “federal debt,” they automatically apply the same intuition to the federal government.

But for a Monetarily Sovereign nation such as the United States, federal “debt” is unlike household debt. Treasury securities, which are referred to as “debt,” are nothing more than deposits into Treasury security accounts at the Federal Reserve system. “Deposits” is much more benign than “debt.”

They are dollar-denominated obligations payable in dollars the federal government itself creates. A Treasury bill is a dollar bill that pays interest and has a maturity date. Both “bills” are the same financial obligations of the U.S. government. In its essence, a dollar bill is a T-bill.

Have you ever been told that the economy has “too many dollars” or that the number of dollars in circulation is “unsustainable”? No, that isn’t what you hear or read. You’re told the “debt” is too high. 

GDP, which measures the economy equals the total dollars being spent—and shrinking GDP means a recession.

You’re often told the “debt” too high and can’t be maintained. By definition, the only way to cut the so-called “debt” is to reduce number of the dollars in the system, which also means to have a recession.

In short, the phrase “reduce the federal debt” literally means “cause a recession.” And in fact, that is exactly what has happened when the so-called “debt” (number of dollars) has been reduced.

1804-1812: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 48%. Depression began 1807.
1817-1821: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 29%. Depression began 1819.
1823-1836: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 99%. Depression began 1837.
1852-1857: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 59%. Depression began 1857.
1867-1873: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 27%. Depression began 1873.
1880-1893: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 57%. Depression began 1893.
1920-1930: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 36%. Depression began 1929.
1997-2001: U. S. Federal Debt reduced 15%. Recession began 2001.

The way this is framed shapes public debate before the facts are even considered.

A Treasury bill represents exactly the same government financial obligation as a dollar bill. The only differences between them are that the T-bill has a maturity date and pays interest.

Similarly, the term “deficit” carries negative emotional weight. Deficit implies shortage, failure, or irresponsibility.

Yet, a federal deficit means the government has pumped more money into the private sector through spending than it has taken out through taxes. Simply put, a deficit is net money creation, which the federal government can do without limit, merely by pressing computer keys.

Reductions in federal deficits lead to recessions (gray bars). Note how recessions are cured by increased deficit spending, especially to address shortages of oil and food.

When language changes, perception changes. “Federal borrowing” sounds like dependency. But, in fact, the federal government never borrows dollars.

It “accepts deposits into Treasury accounts,” which sounds entirely different, even though the underlying accounting operation is identical.

Those deposits do not provide the federal government with spending money. The government produces its spending dollars at will. The purpose of T-securities is to provide a safe place to store unused dollars and to help the Fed control interest rates.

The same linguistic distortion appears in discussions of inflation.

Economists sometimes describe inflation as “too much money chasing too few goods.” Grammatically and psychologically, this phrase emphasizes “too much money” while minimizing “too few goods.” The causal spotlight falls on spending rather than on shortages.

Yet historically, major inflations repeatedly have been associated with shortages and productive disruptions: Oil shortages in the 1970s, wartime destruction in Germany and Hungary. agricultural collapse in Zimbabwe, and during COVID, energy disruptions, shipping bottlenecks, housing shortages, and semiconductor shortages.

In each case, the economy’s ability to produce or distribute essential goods was hindered, but this ability isn’t worsened by government spending. In fact, inflation can be addressed through government spending to obtain the scarce goods.

The false picture is enhanced when a government produces more currency without taking steps to cure the underlying scarcities. That is like treating a viral illness with big doses of antibiotics, then blaming the antibiotics for the disease when the patient fails to improve.

The real problem was not the treatment itself, but the failure to address the actual cause.

Nevertheless, mainstream economic language often frames inflation as: “overheating,” “excess demand,” or “too much spending.” Those phrases direct attention toward reducing purchasing power by raising interest rates, cutting deficits,
weakening labor markets, and suppressing wages.

But inflation fundamentally always results from shortages, so the solutions are entirely different: Increase energy production, aid agriculture, build housing, improve transportation, expand healthcare capacity, strengthen supply chains, and invest in productivity, all of which require more government spending, not less.

One of the most revealing examples of economic semantics is the term “core inflation,” which excludes food and energy prices. The justification is that food and energy prices are unusually volatile and may obscure longer-term pricing trends.

The word “core” suggests something central, fundamental, primary, or causative. Yet historically, the vast majority of inflationary episodes have been driven by energy and food shortages or disruptions.

Oil shocks in the 1970s affected transportation, manufacturing, fertilizer, plastics, shipping, heating, and food production. Food shortages, like those in Zimbabwe, historically have destabilized entire economies and governments.

Thus, energy and food are not peripheral to economic life; they are “core” — foundational inputs into nearly every productive process. Removing them from a preferred inflation measure can create the impression that the very forces most responsible for inflation are somehow secondary or less important.

The semantic framing matters because it influences public understanding and equally important, policy response.

When economists’ solutions focus on “core” inflation, attention naturally shifts away from shortages in energy and food, and toward generalized theories of excess demand or excessive spending.

The terminology quietly encourages the belief that inflation primarily is a monetary or demand phenomenon rather than a resource and supply phenomenon. But add a trillion, trillion dollars to an economy that has a trillion, trillion more things people want to buy, and there will be no inflation.

Inflation is always and everywhere a supply problem, never a money problem.

Even terms like crowding out reveal the hidden metaphors embedded in economic thinking. The phrase implies that government spending physically occupies economic space that otherwise would belong to the private sector.

It assumes a limited pool of available money. But a monetarily sovereign government creates dollars whenever it spends. The real constraints are not dollars but actual resources, like oil and food.

Cooling the economy” sounds gentle and scientific. In practice, it often means lower wages, business failures, and reduced consumer purchasing power, in short, recession.

Fiscal discipline” sounds prudent. Operationally, it means reducing the flow of dollars into the private sector. The abstractions become especially dangerous because they conceal human consequences behind sterile terminology.

Words create belief. The debate often is won or lost before the first statistic appears—simply by the choice of words used to frame the discussion. People react to the stories implied by the language used.

SUMMARY

Terms like “debt,” “deficit,” “core inflation,” “crowd out,” “borrow,” “print money,” “overheated,” and “cool the economy” are often misused by economists. These expressions tend to carry misleading negative connotations and suggest flawed solutions.

Some suggestions for accuracy and clarity:

  1. Instead of “debt” —> “deposits.” 
  2. “Core” inflation —>less volatile inflation measure
  3. Federal “deficit”—>growth dollars added
  4. “Crowd out” (eliminate this term as it is functionally incorrect)
  5. “Borrow” (accepts deposits)
  6. “Print money” —> add growth dollars
  7. “Overheated” —>trending toward inflation
  8. “Cool the economy” —> Reduce economic growth

Semantics creates belief, especially in economics.

Rodger Malcolm Mitchell

Monetary Sovereignty

Twitter: @rodgermitchell

Search #monetarysovereignty

Facebook: Rodger Malcolm Mitchell;

MUCK RACK: https://muckrack.com/rodger-malcolm-mitchell;

https://www.academia.edu/

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A Government’s Sole Purpose is to Improve and Protect The People’s Lives.

MONETARY SOVEREIGNTY

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