Gary Stevenson's answer, in one sentence: when wealth concentrates into few hands, the rich — who cannot spend it all — compete to buy up everything that can be owned, driving asset prices permanently up and interest rates permanently down. This page rebuilds his 2019 thesis step by step, with the actual model running live so you can test the claim yourself.
After the 2008 crash, interest rates across the developed world fell to nearly zero. Every year afterwards, financial markets predicted they would soon return to "normal". Every year, they were wrong. Stevenson's favourite example: in September 2014, the governors of the US Federal Reserve — the people who set the interest rate — predicted where it would be over the next three years. Not one of the governors, for a single year, guessed too low. All of them were wrong, by a lot, in the same direction.
Meanwhile asset prices did the opposite of what cheap-money-is-temporary thinking implied: UK houses, UK farmland (roughly doubling in price per acre between 2007 and 2016), and stock markets (the S&P 500 growing over 12% a year from 2009, before dividends) all raced far ahead of wages.
Stevenson's starting point is simple: when the smartest, best-incentivised predictors in the world are unanimously wrong for a decade, they are missing a cause. His candidate for the missing cause is rising wealth inequality. He has some standing to say so — as an interest-rates trader he bet, against the consensus, that rates would stay low precisely because inequality was rising, and in 2011 became his bank's most profitable trader in the world. The thesis is his attempt to turn that trading instinct into formal economics.
This is the key that unlocks the whole thesis, and it needs no maths.
Suppose a house earns £10,000 a year in rent. If the house costs £100,000, an investor earns 10% a year. If buyers bid the same house up to £500,000, the same £10,000 of rent is now only a 2% return. Nothing about the house changed — the "interest rate" fell purely because the price rose.
So the two great puzzles of the post-2008 era — "why are asset prices so high?" and "why are interest rates so low?" — are really one puzzle: why is there so much money desperately trying to buy assets that it will accept almost no return for holding them? Answer that, and you have answered both.
Economists test ideas by building tiny artificial worlds and seeing what happens inside them. Stevenson's world is deliberately as simple as possible, resting on three deliberate design choices:
The world contains consumption goods (food, haircuts, holidays) and a fixed stock of assets — think of it as land. Crucially, you cannot turn one into the other: no amount of saved wages manufactures a new plot of prime London. In most economic models saving automatically creates new capital, which quietly makes it impossible for asset prices to detach from everything else. Stevenson removes that assumption, because the decade after 2008 — savings piling up, interest rates at zero, companies buying back shares rather than building — looks exactly like a world where saving does not smoothly create new assets.
Give a struggling family an extra £1,000 and they will spend nearly all of it. Give a billionaire an extra £1,000 — or an extra million — and they will spend almost none of it; it gets saved, i.e. used to buy assets. This is well supported by evidence, and it is the engine of the whole thesis. In the model it is built in mathematically: people get satisfaction not just from consuming, but from owning wealth itself, and the desire to consume satiates while the desire to hold wealth keeps going.
Society is split into a rich group and a poor group. A single dial, E (for Equality), sets what fraction of society is in the rich group — and the rich group owns all the assets, split evenly among themselves. E = 1 means everyone owns an equal share (perfect equality). E = 0.05 means 5% of the people own everything. Everybody works the same amount either way. Crude — but it lets you turn inequality up and down like a thermostat and watch what happens.
Turn E down — concentrate the wealth. Each rich person now owns more, so each rich person is further into "spends almost nothing of each extra pound" territory. Society's total income hasn't changed, but more of it now flows to people who want to hold wealth with it rather than spend it. So more buying power chases the same fixed stock of assets. There is only one way that can resolve:
Below is not an illustration — it is Stevenson's model, solved in your browser using the equations from the thesis. Drag the equality dial and watch asset prices (as a multiple of wages) and the interest rate respond.
The left-hand side of the chart is the whole story. As E heads towards zero — wealth concentrating into ever fewer hands — the asset-price-to-wage ratio doesn't just rise, it takes off towards infinity, and the interest rate collapses towards zero. And it accelerates: each step of further concentration does more damage than the last. If the real world sits somewhere on that left slope, then rising inequality produces exactly the twin phenomena of section 1 — and predicts they will persist as long as inequality does.
The wrinkle on the right, and how the thesis irons it out. In Model 1 you may spot that at high equality (E near 1) the curve can gently tip the "wrong" way, depending on the capital-share slider. Stevenson diagnoses this as an artefact of a crude assumption — Model 1 hard-wires the poor to spend everything, so as E rises, poor people "flip" into rich savers, which nudges prices up. Switch to Model 2, where everyone has the identical psychology and the rich save more only because they have more: the wrinkle vanishes. More equality then means cheaper assets and higher interest rates, smoothly, everywhere, for any capital share — even when the assets pay no income at all. The fix makes the result stronger, not weaker.
The thesis reads as four separate models, but it is more intuitive to see it as one claim surviving three rounds of objections — each model built to answer the sceptic's next question.
It's not a bubble. High asset prices would be the natural resting state of a highly unequal economy — not froth waiting to pop. Waiting for the "correction" would be waiting for something the model says isn't coming.
Rates aren't "normalising", ever — unless inequality falls. A decade of unanimous misprediction (section 1) stops being mysterious: forecasters kept expecting reversion to a normal that inequality had permanently moved.
The spiral. High inequality raises asset prices; high asset prices enrich owners and strip non-owners (Model 4), which raises inequality further. Stevenson sees the UK's falling home-ownership rate as this loop in action, and warns of the endpoint: a society where your position depends almost entirely on inheritance rather than work — his phrase for it is a new feudalism.
The policy target changes. If housing unaffordability is a symptom of wealth concentration, then planning reform, interest-rate tinkering and help-to-buy schemes treat symptoms. The lever that matters is the distribution of wealth itself — which points, though the thesis stops short of prescribing it, towards taxing wealth rather than work.
Being fair to the argument means being clear about its edges — most of which Stevenson flags himself.
None of these breaks the core intuition. They mark the distance between "here is a coherent, worked-out mechanism the profession has ignored" — which the thesis delivers — and "this is proven to be the cause" — which it does not claim.