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
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
During the “426 rally” organized by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party under the slogan “fight green communism, resist dictatorship,” leaders from the two opposition parties framed it as a battle against an allegedly authoritarian administration led by President William Lai (賴清德). While criticism of the government can be a healthy expression of a vibrant, pluralistic society, and protests are quite common in Taiwan, the discourse of the 426 rally nonetheless betrayed troubling signs of collective amnesia. Specifically, the KMT, which imposed 38 years of martial law in Taiwan from 1949 to 1987, has never fully faced its
RSS