The Sveriges Riksbank Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel 2026 has been awarded to Robert E. Hall and Michael Woodford “”for microeconomic foundations of macroeconomic stabilisation.” To gain some intuition for what that actually means, it’s useful to flash back a few decades and remember the origins of “macroeconomics” and how macroeconomic analysis was done a half-century ago. There’s an old phrase about “painting with a broad brush,” when you skip past smaller details. In this brief overview, I intend to go well beyond painting with a broad brush, perhaps closer to painting with an industrial-power spray-gun.
Economists have been writing about subjects related to what we now call “macroeconomics” for centuries. But the actual terminology seems to have emerged during the Great Depression, when it became abundantly clear that entire national economies could malfunction at the same time without the occurence of a disaster like a war or pandemic. The great Norwegian economist Ragnar Frisch, co-winner of the first Nobel prize in economics awarded in 1969, was inventing a new terminology when he wrote in 1933: “”The micro-dynamic analysis is an analysis by which we try to explain in some detail the behaviour of a certain section of the huge economic mechanism, taking for granted that certain general parameters are given … The macrodynamic analysis, on the other hand, tries to give an account of the whole economic system taken in its entirety.” By the 1940s, the terms “microeconomics” and “macroeconomics” were being commonly used in the professional writing of economists, and even in a few textbooks.
At about the same time, not coincidentally, Simon Kuznets was leading an effort to measure the entire economy–that is, he was defining and inventing what we now refer to as “gross domestic product.” Kuznets received the Nobel prize in 1971, the third year it was awarded. As it became conceivable to write down what was meant by a macroeoconomy, in categories, Wassily Leontief created the “input-output method,” in which you conceive of the economy as a giant spreadsheet, with all economic inputs listed as columns and all economic outputs listed as rows–thus showing what inputs went into each output. Leontief wins the Nobel prize in 1973.
Looking at an economy as an organized group of inputs and outputs combined easily with practical questions: By looking at these relationships in the past, can we forecast what will happen in the future if there is, say, a boom or bust in one area of the economy? Can we use this tool for public policy, perhaps to prevent a recurrence of the Great Depression? In 1980, Lawrence Klein won the Nobel prize for work in building up many-equation macroeconomic models: for example, his famous Wharton model in the late 1960s started with 200 equations, but eventually expanded to more than 1,000 equations. The macroeconomic model had joined with the then-newfangled power of computers.
There was a brief shining moment for economists in the 1960s when it seemed as if all of this was leading to a full understanding of the macroeconomy and appropriate macroeconomic policies. And then came the deep recessions, unemployment, and high inflation of the 1970s, and all that confidence went out the window. Among the top concerns was that there had been an an observed “Phillips curve” relationship in in the preceding decades that if unemployment was extremely low, it was a sign that the economy was “overheating” and that inflation was likely to rise, but if unemployment was high, inflationary pressures would then drop off. But the 1970s famously had “stagflation”–both high unemployment and high inflation at the same time. Such an outcome was literally impossible in the context of the big macroeconomic models of the 1960s.
The field of economics is never short of skeptics, and there were skeptics about the 1,000-equation macroeconomic models, too. However, many of those skeptics tended to have proposals for keeping the models and redesigning them in some way. The 1978 paper by Robert Hall cited by this year’s Nobel prize committee offered a much more fundamental challenge.
Consider the problem of predicting changes in consumption, which makes up about two-thirds of aggregate demand in the macroeconomy. The conventional models of the 1960s viewed consumption as determined by current (or recent) income: when people got income, they had a “marginal propensity to consume” some of it and to save the rest, in a way that followed past patterns. In contrast, Hall argued that people made consumption decisions looking forward into the future: that is, choices about how much to consume and how much to save were based on beliefs about whether jobs seemed likely to be secure in the future, whether there were risks of recession or inflation, and other factors.
There was a clear empirical test to differentiate these approaches. The conventional approach made predictions about changes in consumption based on the the 1,000-equation model. But Hall reasoned that if current consumption choices were based on future beliefs, then changes in consumption would be based on changes in those future beliefs. By definition, no one can say how beliefs are going to change in the future (if you could, it wouild already be part of your current beliefs). As a result, Hall argued that changes in consumption should be unpredictable and random; in mathematical terms, a random walk. And by golly, when you compared predictions of consumption based on the 1,000-equation models to a prediction of consumption that it was a random change from the prevous period, it turned out that the giant multi-equation model was no better than the random walk.
Hall’s challenge (along with related work done by others) was a hammer-blow to the old-style macroeconomic theorizing. At a deeper level, the challenge pointed out that the 1,000-equation macroeconomic models were snapshots of what was happening in the economy at a certain time, which could be useful. But these snapshots did not explicitly include consumers making decisions, or firms making decisions, or a central bank making decisions. An alternative framework was already under development in the 1970s, which in turn led to Nobel prizes for Robert E. Lucas in 1995, for Finn E. Kydland and Edward C. Prescott in 2004, and for Edmund S. Phelps in 2006, as well as many other contributors who didn’t win a Nobel.
But in some ways, this new version of macroeconomics had lots of individual insights, but not a compact overall perspective, on which more complex formulations could be built. This is where Michael Woodford enters our scenario. Each year, the Nobel prize committee writes a “Scientific background” paper to explain the contributions of the prize-winners, and I quote from it here:
A new framework for macroeconomic stabilization policy needed to be built up, one that, like the Keynesian approach, also recognized the shortcomings of markets and, therefore, the need for government interventions. However, in contrast to the previous framework, the new one had to rest on an understanding of the fact that macroeconomic outcomes cannot simply be represented as stable relationships between aggregate variables. Rather, macroeconomic outcomes had to be seen as the cumulative result of actions taken by all the individual consumers and firms in the economy. The experience during the 1970s also convinced the profession that consumers and firms were far more forward-looking than had been previously thought: they pay careful attention to where both monetary and fiscal policy are heading and, hence, to expected inflation and future aggregate activity. Therefore, a new framework had to describe economic actors as purposefully reacting to government stabilization policy as well as to the fundamental factors causing the fluctuations in economic activity. Lastly, these fundamental factors should be expected to vary in nature over time: different recessions occur for different fundamental reasons, and may therefore also require different policy measures. …
Through a series of subsequent papers, built on Hall’s consumption framework as well as other important developments in macroeconomic theory during the 1970s and 1980s, Michael Woodford arose as the key architect behind the so-called New Keynesian model: a full macroeconomic stabilization framework that has become the main tool for policymakers today. In his 2003 monograph, Woodford summarizes as well as further develops the general setting. The original theory was chiefly aimed as a foundation for monetary policy analysis but subsequently also became the main tool for the analysis of fiscal policy. This model features departures from perfect competition, with firms charging markups over marginal cost, as well as sticky prices and wages preventing the efficient use of resources. Despite allowing consumers and firms in the model to adapt their behavior to changes in government policy, it shows how appropriately used fiscal and monetary policy can improve welfare by stabilizing the economy in the face of disturbances. …
The simplest New Keynesian model has only three equations; nevertheless, it is a very powerful tool for understanding some key aspects of how monetary policy works. The first equation summarizes consumer behavior and is in fact Hall’s theory of consumption. The second equation describes how profit-maximizing firms set prices when it is costly to change them, and the third and final equation captures the central bank’s interest-rate policy. When analyzing monetary policy quantitatively using this framework, additional variables and equations are added; central banks often have medium- as well as large-scale versions tailored to their national economies in question. Similarly, finance ministries and government agencies analyzing fiscal policy build versions of the model with yet another, slightly different, focus.
Taking this together, macroeconomics has undergone an enormous pivot in the last half-century. The macroeconomics of the 1960s was (implicitly) built on a belief that if one could write down a detailed version of what was happening in the macroeconomy for a given period, like a year, one could then rely on the relationships between the main aggregate economic variables to be roughly constant over time, in a way that would allow analysis and policy-making. But this vision of macroeconomics lacked expectation-forming consumers, firms, and policy-makers, interacting in an economy with imperfect competition and slow-to-adjust (“sticky”) prices and wages. In a phrase, it lacked “microeconomic foundations.” The task of building out alternative versions of Woodford’s very basic approach is still very much a work in progress: as one of many examples, you will notice that the basic three-equation model doesn’t have a financial sector. For a starting point on how economists, policymakers, and central banks have been building on this model over time, I recommend both the “Scientific Background” paper from the Nobel prize committee and Jordi Galí’s article “The State of New Keynesian Economics: A Partial Assessment,” from the Summer 2018 issue of the Journal of Economic Perspectives (where I work as Managing Editor.)










