All entries for January 2012
January 31, 2012
The EU Shows the Risks of Selective Intervention
Writing about web page http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-16803157
As Europe's leaders leave Brussels with a new fiscal treaty, I found myself thinking back to last June when Nicolas Sarkozy said:
Without the euro there is no Europe and without Europe there is no possible peace and security.
It makes you wonder how we got to this. If true, it would make the well-being and security of all Europeans hostage to the future of the Euro. Yet the euro is a relatively recent invention. It was not around for the first half century of the postwar era. Europe was peaceful and the European Union was working effectively long before the euro was brought in.
Given the model was already working reasonably well without the euro, you could understand Sarkozy to mean that Europe's architects willfully introduced a new feature that, if then removed one day, would bring it crashing to the ground. How dangerous is that!
Confronted by the possibility of eventual Eurozone disintegration, which the new fiscal treaty does not remove, I caught myself thinking:
If only Europe's builders had stopped with the single market.
The single European market, enacted between 1987 and 1992, was a huge achievement. The single market eliminated physical, technical and tax-related barriers to free movement [of goods and people] within the Community. The single market was enforced by tough laws that improved competition. In turn, competition and free trade within the community raised average productivity and incomes.
The European economy wasn't perfect. The common agricultural policy remained a blot on the European rural landscape. There was continual pressure on the member states to harmonize national social, employment, and fiscal policies. Within the single market itself there were still national currencies. The single market was marked by regional price differences arising from exchange rate fluctuations, currency exchange costs, and the lack of transparency associated with pricing in different currencies. The transaction costs alone might have been worth a few billion euros.
But perhaps it would have been better to have stopped there with the single market, and gone on paying those billion-euro costs, than to move on to the next stage of currency unification, ultimately facing today's trillion-euro costs of Eurozone bailouts and possible collapse.
Why didn't we hold the line there? What I forgot for a pleasant moment was the logic of the time. This logic led remorselessly onward from the single market to the single currency.
With hindsight the logic is sometimes portrayed as a simple economic inevitability, as if the single market just demanded to be made even better by a single currency, and would have been forever incomplete without it. "Without the euro there is no Europe"? Not so. There was an inevitability at work, it's true, but this was determined by politics, not economics.
You can think about it on the lines of what Oliver Williamson once called the impossibility of selective intervention. We'd like selective intervention to work like this. We live in a market economy, but from time to time the market fails. Then, when it fails, and only then, we'd like the government to step in and sort it out. When they've done that, we'd like them to stop.
In other words, in the best of all possible worlds, government intervention would be limited selectively to those measures that can improve social welfare over the results of the market economy. That way, surely, we would have the best of everything: the market when it succeeds, and government intervention to fix it when the market fails.
What could be wrong with that? Why can't we have the best of everything? The fundamental reason why selective intervention is impossible can be put like this:
A government that has the power to intervene when it chooses in the interests of the community also has the power to intervene when it chooses to serve its own interests.
In the case of the single market, Europe's leaders once saw an institutional deficit. For centuries, the competing nations of Europe were sources of technological, cultural, commercial, and industrial revolution. Revolution was spurred by rivalry. Too often, rivalry led to war. There was an institutional deficit, Adenauer, Schuman, and Spaak believed, that led European countries to make war, not trade. They decided to intervene to fix it.
The solution they sought was to bind Europe's nations together commercially. The European Economic Community, the forerunner of today's European Union, was the means to fill the institutional deficit that they perceived. But that turned out not to be enough. The next project was the European Union and the single European market.
In the process, they created a self-serving international bureaucracy. The European Commission in Brussels was supposed to oversee the single market. A legislature in Strasbourg was supposed to oversee the bureaucracy. But the lack of a strong popular European identity that could frame political competition on a continental scale led to Europe to exchange one institutional deficit for another.
Instead of an institutional deficit there was now a growing democratic deficit. That deficit became a refuge for politicians that had failed on the national stage or, as we sometimes call them, "elder statesmen." Defeated in a national election? Stand for the European Parliament. Just lost your party leadership? Become a European Commissioner. With a few exceptions these were vain, limited people. Unlimited only in their ambition, they tried to take control of Europe's destiny and shape it in their own interests.
What were the interests that the single currency served? It was another grand project. The worst fate of any political bureaucrat must be to enter office and be told there's nothing to do. Whoever got reelected or promoted by doing nothing? Every politician needs a stream of projects to oversee, institutions to build, offices to fill, and funding to allocate.
For such people, building the single market could never been enough. They needed something more to build after that. The single market was just a phase that added to their momentum. The logic of selective intervention is that nobody tells you when it's time to stop, and there is always good reason to go on. We could never have just "stopped there."
Not knowing when to stop is at the core of the impossibility of selective intervention. Selective intervention is supposed to improve things. And it can do this, up to a limit. But in the real world the limit of improvement is always fuzzy. If the government fixed one thing that needed fixing, this creates the justification for it to go on to fix something else. If that turns out to have made things worse, then this too becomes justification for another fix. There's never a reason to call a halt.
This is how a beautiful dream went too far, and so became a bit of a nightmare.
January 19, 2012
How Christopher Hitchens and I Became Friends
Writing about web page http://www2.warwick.ac.uk/knowledge/culture/christopherhitchens
Until my mid-teens I had friends but with little choice over who they were. My mother chose them, or their school desk was next to mine, or their bed was next to mine (from twelve I attended a boys’ boarding school). We got on with each other, but then we had to.
My dormitory friendships, as I recall, were pretty brutal. We all knew too much about each other and exploited whatever we could find out to grab advantage and push each other down.
One of my “friends” had the nickname “Handy Arse.” He got it like this. He had a middle initial, O. At first it was a mystery. It could have been Oliver, but it wasn’t. One day he let slip that it stood for Ozanne. In English lessons they were reading Shelley’s poem Ozymandias (“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"). In five minutes Ozanne became Ozymandias, and Mandy Arse in ten. From there, it was a short step to Handy Arse. And that’s how he became known.
It was pretty funny, although maybe not for him. I can recall many much more cruel exchanges. As long as I wasn’t the target, I just joined right in.
The lesson was: Don’t share. I learned this the hard way. I too had a nickname, which I got from revealing that I had athlete’s foot. Even now I don’t want to tell you what it was. I was a boarder at the school for five years, and it stuck to me until the day I left. My “friends” used this nickname every day and made absolutely certain that each incoming group of new boys got to know it and use it freely.
In my mid-teens I acquired my first friends on the basis of affinity. It probably began with Bevis Sale (now an artist), who was my house mate at school, but lived locally and was not a boarder. Bevis brought me into a new circle including Christopher Hitchens, Michael Prest (who became a journalist), and the late Guy Cunnah.
These were the first friends whose company I chose. I liked them; they liked me. We called each other by our given names, Mark, Christopher, and so on. We could share a confidence and not have it instantly betrayed. There was brotherhood. And there was an escape from the unbearable proximity of the other “friends.” I can’t overstate what it meant to me.
Christopher and I hardly saw each other after leaving school, so I’ll always remember him as he was then: slightly built, with dark floppy hair and a gaze that could flash from boredom to intense concentration in a microsecond. A year or so ago I met his daughter Antonia on a doorstep and was shocked to see the same liquid eyes.
This photo, taken not long after he left school, shows how I remember Christopher.
Christopher and I did lots of stuff together, most often with Prest and Cunnah (and maybe others but I’ve forgotten). They were already running an unofficial school magazine, so I got involved. I discovered that I could write and draw for pleasure. And there were ideas, which we bubbled with.
This was the early sixties so nonconformism and rebellion were in the air we breathed. We rebelled. This was not easy because our school was itself nonconformist (in the religious sense, so the chapel, which we were required to attend, was Methodist, not Church of England). Rebellion meant that we were atheists and did not bow our heads with the others or close our eyes in prayer, although we submitted to compulsory attendance. My housemaster called me in and enquired, in a concerned sort of way, about this demonstration. But it was tolerated; there were no unpleasant consequences of any kind.
Also in the air was the forward march of socialist ideas. There were general elections in 1964, when Labour ousted the Conservatives, and 1966, which was more of a Labour landslide. We got hold of Labour posters and displayed them around the school. We spoke up for an end to the privilege of private schooling and to stop selective admission to state grammar schools. Again, our rebellion was tolerated, which was a little infuriating and a big relief; I had no desire to be a martyr.
We also cared about the outside world and we were moved by events in South Africa. In 1964 Nelson Mandela and others were on trial in Johannesburg, and imprisoned for life, for their part in the struggle against apartheid. I was deeply affected by the case of Bram Fischer, a communist lawyer, who was sent to Robben Island with Mandela (and died there). It seemed straightforward to me that a black South African would want to overthrow apartheid, but Fischer was a white Afrikaner; he could have enjoyed a life of privilege, and he deliberately put it aside and threw in his lot with the people who were being oppressed. It was a very troubling and inspiring example.
Christopher and I set out on our bikes one afternoon to find the local branch of the communist party (we failed). We wrote to the communist party in London to ask how to help the struggle. I got a letter back from Jack Woddis, the communist party’s international secretary, which I treasured for many years. Later I joined the communist party and studied the Soviet Union and China, and I got to see the seamy underside of communism at first hand. Whatever you think about communism now, and I certainly left it behind many years ago, there’s no doubt that the movement had many fine people and real heroes alongside the hacks and rogues.
There’s not much more to tell. After leaving school, Christopher and I soon lost touch. For a long time we went different ways politically. Christopher was a lot more adventurous than I was; at school he was a self-proclaimed anarchist and at college he went into the Trotskyist revolutionary movement. By comparison I was a plodder and a gradualist. If we’d stayed in touch, most likely we would have quarrelled, and I’m glad that didn’t happen. Judging from Christopher’s writings, we came back closer together again in more recent times.
A couple of years ago, a mutual friend put us back in touch and we began to email each other. We hoped to meet up again but Christopher’s illness was taking hold, and we never made it. I’m sad about that. At least I have the memory of when we were all sixteen.
January 03, 2012
A Flood of Cheap Chinese Goods
Writing about web page http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1964156
Late in the Old Year, I listened to a radio interview. The question was: "What has the world gained from China's emergence into global trade?" The response was something like this:
A few countries have gained by selling raw materials to China -- Australia, Canada, parts of Africa.
What about the rest?
The rest of us have just had to face a flood of cheap Chinese goods.
To me this neatly encapsulated one of the central tenets of Do-It-Yourself Economics:
Production (and exports) good. Consumption (and imports) bad.
The mixed feelings with which the world's media greets the deluge can be readily illustrated by Googling the search terms "flood" and "cheap Chinese goods." On a recent morning, the first page of search results yielded the following:
Brazilian factories tested by Chinese imports - FT.com
But a growing flood of cheap Chinese manufactured goods into Brazil is testing the relationship. “The relationship with China is important but, ...Why do we allow cheap chinese goods to wreck the western economies ...
Why do we allow cheap chinese goods to wreck the western economies? we sell them very little where they flood our markets with cheap products that used to ...artificially cheap Chinese goods « Savvy Writers & e-Books online
What many American, Canadian and European citizens don't grasp is this: The flood of artificially cheap Chinese goods, putting America out ...UK retailers tell Brussels: we want cheap Chinese goods | Business ...
UK retailers tell Brussels: we want cheap Chinese goods ... He has warned that a flood of cheap T-shirts and flax yarn is harming producers in Italy, ...Chinese tyres cause accidents: police | The Zimbabwean
The flood of cheap Chinese goods has also retarded the reopening of many industries which cannot compete with the goods of cheaper quality. “I urge people to ...CHINESE IN AFRICA: ON ASSIGNMENT: PHOTOGRAPHY BY PER ...
has created a Chinese market in Luanda flooded with cheap Chinese goods. The Chinese are currently working on two major railway renovation projects ...It's good to talk - even better to sell
Cheap Chinese goods are flooding into Africa's markets. China's trade with Africa has increased from $900m (about £500m) in 1990 to nearly $30bn last year ...Involvement of the People's Republic of China in Africa ...
China does not purchase manufactured products from Africa, while cheap Chinese imports flood the local marketplace, making it difficult for local industries...Indonesian Study Shows Trade Pact Led to Flood of Chinese Goods ...
A wide range of Chinese goods has flooded Indonesia since the ... that cheap Chinese goods are swamping Indonesia under the free-trade ...China Ties Aiding Europe to Its Own Trade Goals | Think on That!
Nevertheless, Europe must consider the effects of very cheap Chinese goods that some consider “unfairly priced” flooding their markets. ...
The reality is somewhat less dramatic than these quotes would suggest. What proportion of the goods that our firms and households buy is actually sourced from China? Almost certainly, less than you think.
In 2010, for example, the UK imported goods from China worth £30.6 billion (see the 2011 edition of the Pink Book published by the Office of National Statistics). This sounds like a lot, but is only two percent of the UK's £1.5 trillion national expenditure, or three percent of household consumption. Even this will overstate the proportion of British expenditure originating within China's borders since many Chinese exports incorporate components previously imported into China from abroad. In short, the Chinese economic tsunami is really more of a ripple, although a growing one.
Why is the perception so much more dramatic than the reality? Several reasons.
- China sells things that nearly every household is likely to buy, such as clothes, toys, and consumer electronics.
- These things are especially salient because they are sources of pleasure.
Oh -- and the domestic firms that are displaced by the Chinese goods we prefer then noisily beat the drum of "unfair" competition by tricky foreigners in pursuit of a clever plan to wash away our industries. You can hear that drumbeat clearly in the Google search results above.
Anyway, never mind the facts. Just how bad is this and how much worse can it get? We can learn something from a historical parallel: the tale of Indian textiles in the nineteenth century.
The last time we saw a flood of cheap goods from a single country was in the nineteenth century. At this time British factories sent a tidal wave of cheap textiles across the world. By 1913, Lancashire was providing four yards of cotton cloth for every man, woman, and child on the planet. The world price of textiles came crashing down.
Who lost and who gained? Most obviously, they gained whose labour and capital was employed in the Lancashire cotton mills. At its peak, cotton employed half a million English workers. These won a living wage, while the profits went to the Manchester millocracy and their agents overseas. At the same time the English cotton interest took only a small fraction of the total gain. They had to share the rest with 1.8 billion global consumers, many of whom found they could afford comfortable, washable, durable clothing for the first time. The mechanism that distributed this global gain was the market: as prices plummeted, more and more people in distant lands could pay for a cotton shirt or even a suit.
There were a few losers. These were the world's artisan spinners and weavers. The products of their hand labour were previously a luxury; only the well-to-do could afford them. When a new product came along that consumers preferred and could pay for, the same market mechanism that shared the gain from Lanchashire's high productivity across the world told the handloom weavers: "Stop now. You can find something better to do."
When the history England's industrial revolution came to be written, Lancashire's contribution was well remembered. But its gift to the world was little emphasized or ignored. Instead, what was remembered was the destruction of Indian hand spinning and weaving.
How were Indian consumers affected by the destruction of native artisan textiles? Did the flood of cheap British goods wash away the basis of Indian economic life? It should be possible to tell. A simple test would be this: Whatever happened to India's production of textiles, what happened to consumption? If the Indian economy was truly wrecked by imported cloth, then India's masses would surely have been excluded from the benefits.
A new paper by Tirthankar Roy tells the story. It comes in two parts:
Part 1. 1820 to 1860
- The Indian price of imported cloth relative to prices of hand-spun cloth fell by 80 percent.
- The outputs of Indian hand spinning and weaving did not change.
- Cloth imports into India rose from nothing to around four fifths of the level of domestic cloth production.
- Consumption of cotton cloth per head of the Indian population rose by about 60 percent.
Part 2. 1860 to 1900
- The price of imported cloth relative to those of hand-spun cloth fell by a further 50 percent.
- Hand weaving fell by one third and hand spinning disappeared.
- But it was new Indian cotton mills, not English mills that displaced the products of Indian handloom weaving; the total output of Indian cloth did not change.
- Cloth imports rose by two thirds, reaching around twice the output of domestic weaving.
- Consumption of cotton cloth per head of the population rose by a further 40 percent.
What's important here? Two simple facts:
- First, the flood of cheap English textile did not destroy the Indian textile industry. Native spinning and weaving were restructured by competition and became much more efficient.
- Second, however difficult was the transition, Indian consumers became better off on average at every stage of this process, and were markedly better off at the end compared with the beginning.
To summarize, innovation is local but the gains from innovation are global. Adjustment to changes in national competitive advantage is psychologically painful and economically difficult, as the English textile industry discovered in the twentieth century. But the same competition in international trade is the mechanism that redistributes the gains from innovation in one country to consumers in all countries.
In conclusion, whatever you think of Chinese politics or nationalism, the flood (or floodlet) of cheap Chinese goods is not a threat. Those whose business competes directly with Chinese products should aim to beat the competition or get out of the way. Whether they succeed or fail is up to them, and that's how it should be. Either way, there is a gain to be won from China's entry into the world market, and the gain will accrue to all the world's consumers, that is to say, to every one of us.