
Karl Montevirgen is a professional freelance writer who specializes in the fields of finance, cryptomarkets, content strategy, and the arts. Karl works with several organizations in the equities, futures, physical metals, and blockchain industries. He holds FINRA Series 3 and Series 34 licenses in addition to a dual MFA in critical studies/writing and music composition from the California Institute of the Arts.
Doug is a Chartered Alternative Investment Analyst who spent more than 20 years as a derivatives market maker and asset manager before “reincarnating” as a financial media professional a decade ago.
Before joining Britannica, Doug spent nearly six years managing content marketing projects for a dozen clients, including The Ticker Tape, TD Ameritrade’s market news and financial education site for retail investors. He has been a CAIA charter holder since 2006, and also held a Series 3 license during his years as a derivatives specialist.
Doug previously served as Regional Director for the Chicago region of PRMIA, the Professional Risk Managers’ International Association, and he also served as editor of Intelligent Risk, PRMIA’s quarterly member newsletter. He holds a BS from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign and an MBA from Illinois Institute of Technology, Stuart School of Business.

When it comes to understanding how monetary policy works, many of us understand, and even expect, the simplified version: The Federal Reserve lowers interest rates to rev up the engines of economic growth, and it raises interest rates to slow the economy when prices start overheating.
As we normally understand the economic cycle, economic growth comes with an increase in jobs and, eventually, a rise in the price of goods and services, aka inflation. (The Fedâs target for âhealthyâ inflation is around 2%.) In contrast, when the economy slows, the job market begins to contract, and inflation also cools. It seems like a simple solutionâlowering/raising interest rates to stimulate or slow down the economy, as if all the central bank has to do is flip a switch.
But the economy is not mechanical. Itâs very nuancedânot all of its âmoving partsâ are controllable or manipulable, and they definitely donât react in real time. Sometimes things can go very wrong. What if inflation didnât arrive with an economic boom and high employment? What if inflation brought with it, instead, a stagnating economy coupled with high unemployment, aka âstagflationâ? Which proverbial interest rate button does the Fed push?
The term stagflation is a portmanteau of the words stagnation and inflation.
Stagflation is like the worst of both worlds, and thereâs no easy fix to this monetary nightmare.
Stagflation doesnât respond to the conventional monetary tools based on the Phillips curve (see figure 1). According to the classic theory, when inflation is high, unemployment is supposed to be low, and vice versa.
Inflation and unemployment are supposed to have an inverse relationship, making it easier for central banks to manage things by adjusting interest rates. But if this is how the economy is supposed to work, stagflation is a puzzling paradox. And it forces central bankers and policymakers to devise new ways to solve the problem.

Stagflation is uncommon, but it has happened a couple times in the last several decades. The most notable case of stagflation took place in the 1970s, afflicting most Western economies.
Although economists can point to multiple factors that may have caused stagflation in the 1970s, many of which remain in debate, economists frequently call out two in particular:
In 1980, the Federal Reserve, led by chair Paul Volcker, raised the Fed funds rate to as high as 21%. This led to a painful 16-month recession and spike in the unemployment rate to 10.8%. But the bitter medicine fixed the economic malady. Considering that stagflation is such an unusual and puzzling condition, thereâs no guarantee that such an austerity fix would produce the same results in another stagflationary situation.
There were signs of possible stagflation during the early 2020s, but as economists and analysts know, itâs much simpler to define trends and eras in the rearview mirror than in real time. Severe supply constraints and labor shortages during the COVID-19 pandemic pushed inflation as high as 9%. Russiaâs invasion of Ukraine andâin a repeat of historyâproduction cuts by OPEC kept oil and fuel prices high.
However, aside from a brief but severe recession due to the pandemic lockdowns in 2020, the economy muddled through, with gross domestic product (GDP) mostly positive and relatively steady.
It depends on the nature of the stagflationary condition. Gold performed well in the 1970s, as it and other precious metals are seen as a traditional hedge. Commodities also performed well, particularly oil (of course, there was an embargo) and other commodities of limited supply. Real estate also served as a good hedge, as it was less correlated to stocks.
Rental properties would have made sense in the 1970s, but in the post-pandemic inflationary period, rental property investing was a tricky business. On the one hand, housing prices (and average rent prices) rose on an annualized basis, but many cities and states implemented eviction moratoriums (meaning you couldnât evict tenants who werenât able to pay their rent).
Stagflation is a double whammy of economic woes that combines lethargic economic growth (and, typically, high unemployment) with escalating inflation. Itâs also a conundrum for fiscal and monetary policymakers, as it turns the Phillips curve on its head. Although the U.S. eventually overcame the stagflation scourge of the 1970sâafter a decade of economic doldrumsâthe causes of stagflation and the best solution for overcoming it remain a matter of debate.
Although the three decades following the last stagflation cycle were marked by moderate inflation and an extended bull market in stocks, anyone who lived through the twin recessions and abnormally high interest rates of the early 1980s knows that, with stagflation, the cure can be as painful as the disease.