The COVID-19 crisis and recession provide a unique opportunity to rethink the role of the state, particularly its relationship with business. The long-held assumption that government is a burden on the market economy has been debunked.
Rediscovering the state’s traditional role as an “investor of first resort” — rather than just as a lender of last resort — has become a precondition for effective policymaking in the post-COVID-19 era.
Fortunately, public investment has picked up. While the US has adopted a US$3 trillion stimulus and rescue package, the EU has introduced a 750 billion euro (US$841 billion) recovery plan, and Japan has marshaled an additional ￥117 trillion (US$1.09 trillion) in assistance for households and businesses.
However, for investment to lead to a healthier, more resilient and productive economy, money is not enough. Governments must also restore the capacity to design, implement and enforce conditionality on recipients, so that the private sector operates in a manner that is more conducive to inclusive, sustainable growth.
Government support for corporations takes many forms, including direct cash grants, tax breaks and loans issued on favorable terms or government guarantees — not to mention the expansive role played by central banks, which have purchased corporate bonds on a massive scale.
This assistance should come with strings attached, such as requiring firms to adopt emissions-reduction targets, and to treat their employees with dignity in terms of both pay and workplace conditions.
Thankfully, with even the business community rediscovering the merits of conditional assistance — through the pages of the Financial Times, for example — this form of state intervention is no longer taboo.
There are some good examples. Denmark and France are denying state aid to any company domiciled in an EU-designated tax haven and barring large recipients from paying dividends or buying back their own shares until next year.
Similarly, US Senator Elizabeth Warren has called for strict bailout conditions, including higher minimum wages, worker representation on corporate boards, and enduring restrictions on dividends, stock buybacks and executive bonuses.
In the UK, the Bank of England (BOE) has pressed for a temporary moratorium on dividends and buybacks.
Far from being dirigiste, imposing such conditions helps to steer financial resources strategically, by ensuring that they are reinvested productively instead of being captured by narrow or speculative interests.
This approach is all the more important considering that many of the sectors most in need of bailouts are also among the most economically strategic, such as airlines and automobiles.
The US airline industry, for example, has been granted up to US$46 billion in loans and guarantees, provided that recipient firms retain 90 percent of their workforce, cut executive pay and eschew outsourcing or offshoring.
Austria has made its airline-industry bailouts conditional on the adoption of climate targets. France has also introduced five-year targets to lower domestic carbon dioxide emissions.
Similarly, many countries cannot afford to lose their national automobile industry, and are seeing the bailouts as an opportunity to drive progress toward the sector’s decarbonization.
As French President Emmanuel Macron said: “We need not only to save the industry, but to transform it.”
While extending 8 billion euros in loans to the sector, his government is requiring that it turn out more than 1 million clean-energy vehicles by 2025.
Moreover, having received 5 billion euros, Renault must keep open two key French plants and contribute to a Franco-German project to produce electric batteries.
As Renault’s major shareholder, the French government can enforce these conditions from outside and inside the company.
In some cases, governments have gone beyond conditionality to alter ownership models. Germany and France are acquiring or increasing (respectively) the state’s equity stake in airline companies, citing the need to safeguard national strategic infrastructure.
However, there are also negative examples. The auto-industry bailout has played out very differently in Italy than it has in France.
Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (FCA) has convinced the Italian government — which has historically provided large subsidies to Fiat — to grant its subsidiary FCA Italy a 6.3 billion euros guaranteed loan with basically no enforceable conditions.
FCA Italy is expected to merge with the French PSA Group by the end of this year, FCA Group itself no longer even being an Italian company.
Born in 2014 from the merger of Fiat and Chrysler, it is domiciled in the Netherlands, and its financial headquarters are in London.
Worse yet, the company has a poor track record of keeping its investment commitments in Italy, which has fallen off the global map as an auto producer in terms of volume and electric vehicles.
In other negative cases, major companies and sectors have leveraged their monopoly or market-dominant bargaining power to lobby against conditionality, or have exploited central banks’ support, which tends to come with fewer or no conditions.
For example, in the UK, EasyJet was able to access ￡600 million (US$745 million) in liquidity from the BOE, despite having paid ￡174 million in dividends a month earlier.
In the US, the Federal Reserve’s decision to start purchasing riskier high-yield bonds has fueled moral-hazard fears.
Among those standing to gain are US shale-oil producers, which were already highly leveraged and mostly unprofitable before the pandemic arrived.
Far from a step toward state control of the economy, conditional bailouts have proven to be an effective tool for steering productive forces in the interest of strategic, broadly shared goals.
When designed or implemented incorrectly, or avoided altogether, they can limit productive capacity, and allow speculators and insiders to extract wealth for themselves.
However, when done right, they can align corporate behavior with the needs of society, ensuring sustainable growth and a better relationship between workers and firms.
If the crisis is not to go to waste, this must be part of the post-COVID-19 legacy.
Mariana Mazzucato, a professor of economics of innovation and public value, is director of the University College London Institute for Innovation and Public Purpose. Antonio Andreoni, an associate professor of industrial economics and head of research at the institute, is also a visiting associate professor at the University of Johannesburg’s South African Research Chairs Initiative.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
The People’s Republic of China (PRC) has over the past few months continued to escalate its hegemonic rhetoric and increase its incursions into Taiwan’s air defense identification zone. The US, in turn, has finally realized how its “strategic ambiguity” is increasingly wearing thin. Similarly, any hopes the US had that the PRC would be a responsible stakeholder and economic player have diminished, if not been abandoned. Taiwan, of course, remains as the same de facto independent, democratic nation that the PRC covets. As a result, the US needs to reconsider not only the amount, but also the type of arms
Taking advantage of my Taipei Times editors’ forbearance, I thought I would go with a change of pace by offering a few observations on an interesting nature topic, the many varieties of snakes in Taiwan. I will be drawing on my experiences living in Taiwan five times, from my teenage years in Kaohsiung back in the early sixties, to my last assignment as American Institute in Taiwan Director in 2006-9. Taiwan, with its semitropical climate, is a perfect setting for serpents. Indeed, one might say serpents are an integral part of the island’s ecosystem. Taiwan is warm, humid, with lots of
China constantly seeks out ways to complain about perceived slights and provocations as pretexts for its own aggressive behavior. It is both victimization paranoia and a form of information warfare that keeps the West on the defensive. True to form, China objected even to the innocuous reference to Taiwan at April 16’s summit meeting between US President Joe Biden and Japanese Prime Minister Yoshihide Suga. Neither leader’s prepared remarks even mentioned Taiwan, out of deference to the Japanese side. Biden’s opening statement was modest: “Prime Minister Suga and I affirmed our ironclad support for US-Japanese alliance and for our shared security.
There is no ambiguity when it comes to war. Ambiguity begs for certainty and a lack thereof has historically led to war. History is full of examples: Europe’s and the US’ ambiguity as to how they would respond to Hitler’s growing territorial expansion in Europe was certainly a contributing factor to World War II. In the same vein, US ambiguity toward Japan’s expansionist militarism in the 1930s clearly led to the Pearl Harbor attacks that started the war in Asia in 1941. Ambiguity in a world with leaders like Russian President Vladimir Putin and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) will inevitably