The "2% inflation target" feels like it has always existed, but in the United States it only became official policy in 2012. On January 25 of that year, the Federal Open Market Committee released its first Statement on Longer-Run Goals and Monetary Policy Strategy, declaring that inflation of 2 percent, as measured by the annual change in the PCE price index, is most consistent with the Fed's statutory mandate over the longer run. Before that, the Fed operated with an implicit comfort zone but never a published number. Inflation targeting itself was pioneered by the Reserve Bank of New Zealand in 1990, followed by Canada, the UK, and others — the Fed was actually a latecomer among major central banks.
If inflation is bad, would zero not be ideal? The Fed's official FAQ explains why the target sits above zero:
The statement has been revised twice in substance. In August 2020, after years of below-target inflation, the Fed adopted flexible average inflation targeting: following persistent shortfalls, it would aim for inflation "moderately above 2 percent for some time." That design was heavily debated after inflation surged to a 40-year high in 2021–2022. On August 22, 2025, the FOMC released a revised statement that removed the makeup-strategy language, returning to a more traditional flexible inflation target. Through every revision, one thing has not moved: the 2% longer-run goal itself, unchanged since 2012.
Two percent sounds harmless, but compounding never sleeps: at 2% a year, prices double in roughly 35 years, halving the purchasing power of idle cash. That is the deliberately chosen "warm water" zone — low enough not to distort daily decisions, high enough to lubricate the economy. To see it in real historical data, open the inflation calculator and compare any two years: from 1990 to 2024, US inflation annualized at about 2.6%, and cumulative prices rose roughly 140%.