IN business, 1970 was the year of the hangover. The nation suffered the painful consequences of the economic overindulgence that began in 1965 when Lyndon Johnson expanded both welfare programs and the war in Viet Nam without benefit of a tax increase. That policy resulted in one of the longest, most severe inflations in American history: five years of accelerating price increases. In the so-far unsuccessful struggle to contain that inflation, the U.S. in 1970 stumbled into a recession that Richard Nixon had promised to avoid.
It was the fifth recession since World War II—and the mildest—but it interrupted the greatest advance of prosperity that the nation had ever known. The shock of unexpected reverses left deep psychological scars on businessmen, workers, shareholders and politicians. Almost every segment of the population felt aggrieved. Reflecting the uncommon discontent, Brooks McCormick, president of International Harvester Co., said: "The nicest thing about 1970 is that it's over."
Most statistical indexes slumped. Falling in every month but two, industrial production sank 5.3%. Almost one-quarter of the nation's industrial capacity lay idle, creating a large gap between the actual and the potential growth of the economy, if its resources of manpower and plant had been fully utilized.* Retail sales foundered, and corporate profit margins retreated to their lowest level in twelve years. The nation's real output of goods and services declined about .2%. That happened because the 5.3% price inflation more than offset the 5.1% growth of gross national product.
Last week—much later than had been previously expected—the sheer momentum of the mighty but misfiring U.S. economic machine lifted the annual rate of G.N.P. over the $1 trillion-a-year mark. Despite the tarnish that inflation placed on that achievement, President Nixon appeared for ceremonies at the Commerce Department's new gross national product clock—a brightly lit and buzzing electronic gadget that ticks off the nation's estimated economic growth at the rate of $2,000 a second. Said Nixon: "We hope to keep it moving, and perhaps move it faster in the years ahead."
Spasm of Cost Cutting. When 1970 began, few corporate chiefs foresaw a slowdown as great as the one that occurred. They reacted with a spasm of cost cutting, which Federal Reserve Chairman Arthur Burns calls "more widespread and more intense" than at any time since World War II. Unprofitable products were dropped, inefficient factories closed, research projects curtailed, advertising budgets pruned. It was the year of the layoff. Labor hoarding gave way to payroll paring at every level. Liaison men, coordinators and other functionaries with fuzzily defined duties proved to be particularly vulnerable. Layers of superfluous executives, built up over the euphoric years, were fired or pushed into early retirement. As part of one hold-down, the assistant controller of a Pittsburgh steel company daringly recommended that his job be consolidated with that of his boss. It was —but the assistant got the ax. Adding irony to his agony, he was then asked by the controller for a final evaluation of the staff. "Well," he replied, "I'll start by telling you that you're the worst boss I've ever had."