Even in the best of times, policymakers find it difficult to explain complex issues to the public, but when they have the public’s trust, the ordinary citizen will say: “I know broadly what you are trying to do, so you don’t need to explain every last detail to me.”
This was the case in many advanced economies before the global financial crisis, when there was a broad consensus on the direction of economic policy. While the US placed greater emphasis on deregulation, openness and expanding trade, the EU was more concerned with market integration. In general, though, the liberal (in the classical British sense) orthodoxy prevailed.
So pervasive was this consensus that one of my younger colleagues at the IMF found it hard to get a good job in academia, despite holding a doctorate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s prestigious economics department, probably because her work showed that trade liberalization had slowed the rate of poverty reduction in rural India.
Illustration: Mountain People
While theoretical papers showing that freer trade could have such adverse effects were acceptable, studies that demonstrated the phenomenon empirically were met with skepticism.
The global financial crisis shattered the prevailing consensus and the public’s trust. Clearly, the liberal orthodoxy had not worked for everyone in the US. Now-acceptable studies showed that middle-class manufacturing workers exposed to Chinese competition had been hit especially hard. “Obviously,” the accusation went, “the policymaking elites, whose friends and family were in protected service jobs, benefited from cheap imported goods and could not be trusted on trade.”
In Europe, the free movement of goods, capital, services and people within the single market were seen as serving the interests of the EU’s unelected bureaucrats in Brussels more than anyone else.
After the old orthodoxy was found wanting and after its proponents had lost the public’s trust, the door opened to unorthodox solutions.
However, while thinking outside the box can produce good outcomes, policy prescriptions also need to be easily understood by the untrusting layperson. Therein lie the roots of bad populist policies.
If we need to create jobs, why not erect tariffs to protect workers? If we need to spend, why not just print money (as Modern Monetary Theory dictates)?
If we want to revive manufacturing, why not emphasize the danger of depending on China, and offer subsidies and other incentives for firms to reshore or friend-shore operations?
If we need to make the financial system safer, why not raise capital requirements on banks still further?
Because the liberal orthodoxy has been discredited in the eyes of the public, many such policies that were anathema to it have now re-emerged, but, equally important, the appeal of populist policies, however unsound or unsuccessful, is that they seem obviously true and are easy to communicate.
As American essayist H.L. Menken famously quipped: “for every complex problem, there is an answer that is clear, simple and wrong.” After all, who cannot see that import tariffs will protect at least some domestic jobs? Although the jobs saved by new steel tariffs will raise the cost of manufacturing cars domestically, leading to potential job losses in that industry, this point requires an additional step of reasoning that is harder to communicate.
Similarly, replacing a supplier from China with one in a friendly country would seem to make a supply chain more resilient to a potential China-US conflict; but it also might create a false sense of security, considering that many friendly suppliers still rely on China for key inputs. Analogously, raising capital requirements might have made banks safer after the global financial crisis; but to continue raising them will only increase banks’ costs of funding and reduce their activities, leading to a migration of risk into the unregulated, opaque shadow financial sector.
According to 20th-century liberal French journalist Frederic Bastiat, “there is only one difference between a bad economist and a good one: The bad economist confines himself to the visible effect; the good economist takes into account both the effect that can be seen and those effects that must be foreseen.”
However, when there is no trust, warnings by policymakers and economists about unseen second-round effects simply will not be believed. Those urging fiscal restraint, for example, will be tagged with the Dr Doom epithet and dismissed — at least until real (inflation-adjusted) interest rates increase to the point that servicing the bloated public debt requires austerity.
Seeing is believing, but it comes too late.
Emerging markets and developing countries have been through such cycles before, which might be why some of them have emerged as proponents of orthodox liberal macroeconomic policies this time around. Yet the temptation to pursue unorthodox populist policies remains strong, especially now that rich industrialized countries have embraced them.
Hence, India, despite its terrible experience with the so-called License Raj, recently started requiring licenses to import computers — in part to support domestic production and in part to reduce its dependence on Chinese imports.
What about the negative consequences for IT service exports, India’s greatest source of export revenue, and for Indian business more generally?
Argentina, an addict to populism, seems to be shifting its affections from the left-wing Peronists to a right-wing libertarian, who promises to cure inflation by, among other actions, adopting the US dollar (again).
It is hard not to be pessimistic nowadays. In industrial countries, the pendulum has swung from excessive faith in the liberal orthodoxy to faith in populist policies, until their deficiencies become obvious once again. The best we can hope for is that, unlike what seems to be happening in Argentina, it will not then swing too far back toward the other extreme and that we will have learned some lessons along the way.
Raghuram G. Rajan, a former governor of the Reserve Bank of India, is a professor of finance at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
What began on Feb. 28 as a military campaign against Iran quickly became the largest energy-supply disruption in modern times. Unlike the oil crises of the 1970s, which stemmed from producer-led embargoes, US President Donald Trump is the first leader in modern history to trigger a cascading global energy crisis through direct military action. In the process, Trump has also laid bare Taiwan’s strategic and economic fragilities, offering Beijing a real-time tutorial in how to exploit them. Repairing the damage to Persian Gulf oil and gas infrastructure could take years, suggesting that elevated energy prices are likely to persist. But the most
Taiwan should reject two flawed answers to the Eswatini controversy: that diplomatic allies no longer matter, or that they must be preserved at any cost. The sustainable answer is to maintain formal diplomatic relations while redesigning development relationships around transparency, local ownership and democratic accountability. President William Lai’s (賴清德) canceled trip to Eswatini has elicited two predictable reactions in Taiwan. One camp has argued that the episode proves Taiwan must double down on support for every remaining diplomatic ally, because Beijing is tightening the screws, and formal recognition is too scarce to risk. The other says the opposite: If maintaining
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), during an interview for the podcast Lanshuan Time (蘭萱時間) released on Monday, said that a US professor had said that she deserved to be nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize following her meeting earlier this month with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平). Cheng’s “journey of peace” has garnered attention from overseas and from within Taiwan. The latest My Formosa poll, conducted last week after the Cheng-Xi meeting, shows that Cheng’s approval rating is 31.5 percent, up 7.6 percentage points compared with the month before. The same poll showed that 44.5 percent of respondents
India’s semiconductor strategy is undergoing a quiet, but significant, recalibration. With the rollout of India Semiconductor Mission (ISM) 2.0, New Delhi is signaling a shift away from ambition-driven leaps toward a more grounded, capability-led approach rooted in industrial realities and institutional learning. Rather than attempting to enter the most advanced nodes immediately, India has chosen to prioritize mature technologies in the 28-nanometer to 65-nanometer range. That would not be a retreat, but a strategic alignment with domestic capabilities, market demand and global supply chain gaps. The shift carries the imprimatur of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, indicating that the recalibration is