The volume has measured the nation's flow and the nation's stock; now it descends to the single life, to watch a person build a stock of wealth out of a stream of income. The account is Franco Modigliani's life-cycle hypothesis, set down with Richard Brumberg in 1954, and it is the clearest possible picture of the stock-flow relation working itself out within one biography. Income arrives in a humped and uneven flow across the years; a person wishes, sensibly, to consume at a steadier rate than he earns; and so he uses wealth as the bridge, saving when income runs high and spending the savings when income runs low. Wealth, in this light, is neither a mystery nor a virtue but a tool — a store built deliberately out of the income flow to smooth the unevenness of a life. And from this homely picture Modigliani drew a conclusion about the wealth of whole nations that overturned the oldest moral in economics.
The puzzle the hypothesis solves is the mismatch between the shape of income and the shape of desired consumption. Income over a lifetime is humped: low in youth, when a person is still training and his wages are slight; high in the middle years, at the peak of earning power; and low again, near zero, in retirement, when earning stops altogether. But no one wishes to live according to that hump — to scrape by in youth, feast in middle age, and starve in old age. People want their standard of living roughly even across the years. The two shapes do not match, and wealth is what reconciles them. By saving in the high-income middle years and drawing those savings down in retirement, a person converts the humped income stream into a smooth consumption stream, living at a steady measure though he earns at a varying one. The whole apparatus of personal saving exists, on this view, to perform that reconciliation.1
The result is that a person's WEALTH, too, follows a hump over the life cycle, though one shifted in time from the income hump. In youth wealth is low or negative — the young may borrow against future earnings. Through the working years wealth climbs as savings accumulate, reaching its peak around the moment of retirement, when a lifetime's stored income stands at its largest. Then, through retirement, wealth falls, as the person spends down the store he has built, until, in the pure logic of the model, it is exhausted at the close of life. The wealth hump is the visible trace of the life-cycle plan: a reservoir filled during the earning years and emptied during the retired ones. And the mechanism is exactly the stock-flow conversion at the heart of the volume. Saving is the act of turning a flow — income not consumed — into a stock of wealth; dissaving is the reverse, turning the stock back into a flow of consumption. The wealth stock is the buffer between the income river and the consumption river, filling when the first runs faster than the second and draining when it runs slower.2
From this picture of the individual Modigliani drew an inference about the aggregate that startled the profession. The oldest moral in economics holds that a nation grows wealthy through THRIFT — that the more frugal a people, the more they save, the richer their country becomes. The life-cycle hypothesis says otherwise. Consider a society in which everyone follows the life cycle, saving in middle age and dissaving in retirement. If the society is STATIONARY — no growth in population or incomes — then in any given year the saving of the working-age population is exactly offset by the dissaving of the retired, and the nation's total wealth holds constant: aggregate net saving is zero, though every individual is busily saving and dissaving in his turn. Thrift, however great, produces no net accumulation, because every saver is matched by a spender. For a nation to accumulate wealth, there must be GROWTH — a rising population, so that the young savers outnumber the old dissavers, or rising incomes, so that today's savers are storing more than yesterday's retirees are drawing down. A nation's wealth-to-income ratio, Modigliani showed, depends not on how virtuous its people are but on how fast its economy grows and on the shape of its age pyramid.3
This was a genuine reordering of cause and effect. The intuition runs: people are thrifty, therefore the nation accumulates wealth, therefore it grows. Modigliani reversed the last two links: the nation grows, therefore — given life-cycle saving — it accumulates wealth, and the saving rate is largely a consequence of the growth rate rather than its cause. A fast-growing economy will show a high saving rate and a rising stock of wealth not because its people are unusually frugal but because the arithmetic of the life cycle, applied to a growing and youthful population, generates net saving automatically. A stagnant economy with an aging population will show low or negative saving, its retirees drawing down stocks faster than its shrinking cohort of workers can replace them, however much thrift the culture may preach. The wealth of nations, in the life-cycle view, is demography and growth written into a balance sheet, not the reward of self-denial.4
The life cycle is an idealization, and its sharpest prediction — that people die having spent their wealth to nothing — is the point at which it parts from the world. The old, in fact, dissave more slowly than the pure model expects; many die with substantial wealth intact, held back by the wish to leave bequests, by uncertainty about how long they will live or what care they will need, by simple attachment to a store hard-won. These departures are not mere noise; they are the seam where the life-cycle picture of wealth gives out, and they point beyond it. For the wealth that the life-cycle saver builds is, by its nature, a BUFFER — earned from labor, stored against the lean years, and meant to be consumed. It rewards work and it is used up; the saver, in the model's logic, ends with nothing because the whole purpose of his stock was to be spent. But some wealth is not like this. Some wealth is not drawn down but perpetuated, not consumed but passed on, not the stored wage of a life's labor but a standing position that outlives the one who built it and rewards no further work at all. To see how a fortune crosses from the one kind to the other — from buffer to position — is the work of the flagship. The next plate is the holding.5
Franco Modigliani's life-cycle hypothesis showed how a single person builds a stock of wealth from a flow of income. Because income arrives in a humped stream while a steady standard of living is wanted, people save in their high-earning middle years and spend the savings down in retirement, and their wealth traces a hump — a reservoir filled while earning and emptied while retired. Saving is precisely the conversion of an income flow into a wealth stock, and dissaving its reverse; the wealth stock is the buffer that smooths the lumpy river of income into the steady river of consumption. From this Modigliani drew the surprising lesson that a nation's wealth depends not on the thrift of its people but on the growth of its economy and the shape of its age structure, since in a stationary society the saving of the young exactly cancels the dissaving of the old. Life-cycle wealth is earned and meant to be spent. The next plate asks when wealth instead becomes a standing position. The next plate is the holding.