For decades, central bankers operated with a reliable compass. When unemployment fell, inflation rose. When joblessness climbed, prices stabilized. This inverse relationship—the Phillips Curve—became the foundation of monetary policy worldwide.

Then something strange happened. Unemployment dropped to levels not seen since the 1960s, yet inflation barely budged. The compass stopped pointing north. Policymakers who had built careers on this tradeoff found themselves navigating without their most trusted instrument.

Understanding why this relationship changed isn't just academic curiosity. It shapes how central banks set interest rates, how governments evaluate labor markets, and how businesses forecast costs. The Phillips Curve's evolution reveals deeper truths about how modern economies actually function—and why our old models keep surprising us.

The Original Framework: A Remarkably Stable Pattern

In 1958, economist A.W. Phillips published a paper examining nearly a century of British wage data. His finding seemed almost too clean: when unemployment was low, wages rose quickly. When unemployment was high, wages stagnated or fell. Plot the data, and a smooth curve emerged.

The logic was intuitive. A tight labor market meant workers had bargaining power. Companies competed for scarce talent by offering higher wages. Those costs passed through to prices. Conversely, when jobs were plentiful and workers abundant, employers held the cards. Wage demands stayed modest, and inflation remained subdued.

American economists Paul Samuelson and Robert Solow extended this framework, suggesting policymakers faced a menu of choices. Want 3% unemployment? Accept 6% inflation. Prefer stable prices? Tolerate higher joblessness. The tradeoff seemed permanent, written into the structure of market economies.

Through the 1960s, the data cooperated beautifully. Administrations explicitly targeted points along the curve, believing they could fine-tune the economy by choosing their preferred combination. The Phillips Curve wasn't just descriptive—it became prescriptive, a policy tool as much as an observation.

Takeaway

Scarcity drives bargaining power. When something is rare—whether workers or any other resource—those who control it can demand more. This basic dynamic shapes everything from labor negotiations to housing markets.

Expectation Augmentation: The Role of What People Believe

The elegant tradeoff began unraveling in the 1970s. Unemployment rose, but so did inflation. The curve had predicted one or the other, not both simultaneously. Stagflation—the economist's nightmare—demanded explanation.

Milton Friedman and Edmund Phelps independently offered an answer: expectations matter. Workers and firms don't just respond to current conditions. They anticipate future inflation and bake those expectations into wage demands and price-setting. If everyone expects 5% inflation, contracts and negotiations simply start from that baseline.

This insight transformed the Phillips Curve from a stable tradeoff into a shifting target. Only unexpected inflation could temporarily reduce unemployment. Once people caught on, they adjusted. The short-run tradeoff existed, but the long-run curve was vertical—unemployment returned to its natural rate regardless of inflation.

Central banks learned a hard lesson: they couldn't permanently buy lower unemployment with higher inflation. Each attempt would require accelerating inflation to stay ahead of expectations. The menu of choices turned out to be an illusion. Credibility—keeping inflation expectations anchored—became as important as interest rate decisions themselves.

Takeaway

In economics and life, only surprises have real effects. Once people anticipate something, they adapt in ways that neutralize it. Lasting change requires shifting the underlying structure, not just the visible variables.

The Flattening Mystery: Why Tight Labor Markets Stopped Generating Inflation

By the 2010s, a new puzzle emerged. Unemployment in the United States fell below 4%—a level that historically triggered significant inflation. Yet price increases remained stubbornly below the Federal Reserve's 2% target. The curve hadn't just shifted; it had flattened dramatically.

Several theories compete to explain this phenomenon. Globalization expanded the effective labor pool. American workers compete not just locally but with workers worldwide, limiting domestic bargaining power even when local unemployment is low. Technology amplified this effect, making remote work and automated production viable alternatives to hiring.

Weakened worker power also plays a role. Union membership has declined for decades. Labor market concentration—fewer employers in many industries—gives companies more control over wages. Workers in tight labor markets may have options, but they may also face fewer truly competitive offers than the headline numbers suggest.

Some economists point to measurement issues. Traditional unemployment metrics miss discouraged workers, part-time employees seeking full-time work, and the gig economy's ambiguous participants. The labor market may be less tight than it appears. Others emphasize that anchored inflation expectations—the very success of post-1970s monetary policy—now keep price pressures muted regardless of employment conditions.

Takeaway

Relationships that seem fundamental can weaken when underlying structures change. Globalization, technology, and institutional shifts quietly redrew the rules while everyone watched the same old indicators.

The Phillips Curve hasn't disappeared—it has evolved. The relationship between unemployment and inflation still exists, but it operates through more channels, responds to more variables, and moves more sluggishly than our textbooks suggested.

For policymakers, this creates profound uncertainty. How aggressively should central banks tighten when unemployment falls? How much slack exists before inflation ignites? The answers depend on structural features that shift over time and remain difficult to measure in real time.

The curve's flattening teaches humility. Economic relationships emerge from human behavior, institutions, and technology—all of which change. The patterns we observe are never permanent laws, only temporary regularities waiting to be disrupted by the next structural transformation.