.
The Third Depression
By PAUL KRUGMAN
Published: June 27, 2010
Recessions are common; depressions are rare. As far as I can tell, there were only two eras in economic history that were widely described as “depressions” at the time: the years of deflation and instability that followed the Panic of 1873 and the years of mass unemployment that followed the financial crisis of 1929-31.
Neither the Long Depression of the 19th century nor the Great Depression of the 20th was an era of nonstop decline — on the contrary, both included periods when the economy grew. But these episodes of improvement were never enough to undo the damage from the initial slump, and were followed by relapses.
We are now, I fear, in the early stages of a third depression. It will probably look more like the Long Depression than the much more severe Great Depression. But the cost — to the world economy and, above all, to the millions of lives blighted by the absence of jobs — will nonetheless be immense.
And this third depression will be primarily a failure of policy. Around the world — most recently at last weekend’s deeply discouraging G-20 meeting — governments are obsessing about inflation when the real threat is deflation, preaching the need for belt-tightening when the real problem is inadequate spending.
In 2008 and 2009, it seemed as if we might have learned from history. Unlike their predecessors, who raised interest rates in the face of financial crisis, the current leaders of the Federal Reserve and the European Central Bank slashed rates and moved to support credit markets. Unlike governments of the past, which tried to balance budgets in the face of a plunging economy, today’s governments allowed deficits to rise. And better policies helped the world avoid complete collapse: the recession brought on by the financial crisis arguably ended last summer.
But future historians will tell us that this wasn’t the end of the third depression, just as the business upturn that began in 1933 wasn’t the end of the Great Depression. After all, unemployment — especially long-term unemployment — remains at levels that would have been considered catastrophic not long ago, and shows no sign of coming down rapidly. And both the United States and Europe are well on their way toward Japan-style deflationary traps.
In the face of this grim picture, you might have expected policy makers to realize that they haven’t yet done enough to promote recovery. But no: over the last few months there has been a stunning resurgence of hard-money and balanced-budget orthodoxy.
As far as rhetoric is concerned, the revival of the old-time religion is most evident in Europe, where officials seem to be getting their talking points from the collected speeches of Herbert Hoover, up to and including the claim that raising taxes and cutting spending will actually expand the economy, by improving business confidence. As a practical matter, however, America isn’t doing much better. The Fed seems aware of the deflationary risks — but what it proposes to do about these risks is, well, nothing. The Obama administration understands the dangers of premature fiscal austerity — but because Republicans and conservative Democrats in Congress won’t authorize additional aid to state governments, that austerity is coming anyway, in the form of budget cuts at the state and local levels.
Why the wrong turn in policy? The hard-liners often invoke the troubles facing Greece and other nations around the edges of Europe to justify their actions. And it’s true that bond investors have turned on governments with intractable deficits. But there is no evidence that short-run fiscal austerity in the face of a depressed economy reassures investors. On the contrary: Greece has agreed to harsh austerity, only to find its risk spreads growing ever wider; Ireland has imposed savage cuts in public spending, only to be treated by the markets as a worse risk than Spain, which has been far more reluctant to take the hard-liners’ medicine.
It’s almost as if the financial markets understand what policy makers seemingly don’t: that while long-term fiscal responsibility is important, slashing spending in the midst of a depression, which deepens that depression and paves the way for deflation, is actually self-defeating.
So I don’t think this is really about Greece, or indeed about any realistic appreciation of the tradeoffs between deficits and jobs. It is, instead, the victory of an orthodoxy that has little to do with rational analysis, whose main tenet is that imposing suffering on other people is how you show leadership in tough times.
And who will pay the price for this triumph of orthodoxy? The answer is, tens of millions of unemployed workers, many of whom will go jobless for years, and some of whom will never work again.
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Monday, June 28, 2010
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
China's labour squeezing business model - how long can it last?
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Dismantling Factories in a Dreamweaver Nation
by Andy Xie
A new generation is challenging China's labor-squeezing business model and an older generation that apparently doesn't get it
A decade ago, I took a group of fund managers to an assembly line at an electronics manufacturing contractor in China. We saw rows and rows of young women hunkered down, concentrating on putting together tiny parts. They had few toilet breaks, and during rest periods they had to sit at their benches.
"They're all 18," the line manager told me. "We need nimble fingers. In a few years, we will replace them with another batch of 18-year-olds."
I wrote a story after that visit. I didn't judge the situation but stated that a compliant labor force willing to be pushed to the extreme was the fuel for China's economic miracle. The engine was the mutually beneficial relationship between western companies with technologies, brands and distribution channels, and China-based manufacturing outsourcing companies that specialized in taking advantage of China's vast, cheap labor force. These included Taiwanese companies, which have been by far the most successful in the original equipment manufacturer (OEM) business.
The fund managers with me on the visit wanted to determine sustainability and profitability before deciding whether to buy the company's shares. They thought an endless supply of labor would ensure the model's profitability, and they were bullish about the company. What's happened in the years since has proven them right.
But will they be right indefinitely? To answer that question, we can glance back to the days of silent film star Charlie Chaplin. In his movies, Chaplin parodied the inhumane nature of the modern factory system, especially monotonous human movement on assembly lines. What he portrayed vanished a long time ago in developed countries, driven out by rising labor costs. Factory owners invested in automation, such as robots that now dominate modern auto assembly plants.
When multinational companies outsourced production to China, though, their business became less capital intensive. They took advantage of low labor costs and abundant supply. Some businesses, such as battery makers, started substituting machines with people. But no one could have predicted how far the outsourcing model, particularly in the electronics sector, would go while companies scaled up and maximized economies of scale by using cheap labor.
Scaling Higher
Economies of scale are typically associated with capital intensive industries. When a business requires a lump-sum fixed investment, it requires a certain scale to make the investment pay. Outsourcing businesses in China are labor intensive but have scaled up massively. Some businesses employ hundreds of thousands, often at a single location. So where do they get the economies of scale?
I know of two factors that can be scaled up in such businesses: customer relations, and what I call labor squeeze.
Good relations with big buyers such as Apple and HP are not easily obtained. Years of interaction are needed to build necessary trust. Suppliers that prove better than others are retained, while the rest are dumped. As time goes by, the number of suppliers shrinks and the survivors expand.
Thus, economies of scale are improved through good management of customer relations. Apple, for example, demands total secrecy in the production of its products. This goal cannot be met if it uses many suppliers, so when it signs with a trustworthy supplier a virtuous cycle is created.
An even more important factor is labor management. What I observed during my visit 10 years ago was actually the key to economies of scale. To put it bluntly, the key competence of a successful OEM in China is to squeeze labor to the maximum extent possible. That skill is developed within an organization. When a company employs hundreds of thousands from all over China, it needs a massive machine that involves recruiting, housing, training, and worker management on the factory floor.
For example, the factory I visited derives its economies of scale from 1) knowing where to find all the 18-year-old girls, 2) convincing them to stay in factory dormitories, 3) training them to put the parts together, and 4) ensuring that no one takes too many toilet breaks. This is all part of a huge system that can derive considerable economies of scale by processing hundreds of thousands of workers.
Labor management as a core competitive advantage in East Asia began in Japan. After the Meiji Reforms, Japan wanted to industrialize quickly but faced the challenge of turning agricultural labor into industrial labor. It looked to the military for a role model. The military faced a similar challenge: It had to turn farm boys into soldiers. The answer was maximum pressure and total regimentation. Factory uniforms, morning exercises, company loyalty indoctrination, etc., thus became unique characteristics of Japanese factories.
This model becomes less relevant as the transition from rural to urban labor force winds down and labor costs rise. Nowadays, Japanese factories have few workers and lots of robots on factory floors.
The Japanese military factory management system spread to other parts of East Asia, especially Taiwan. It was a Japanese colony for a half-century and receptive to Japanese management skills. When the yen's value rose in the 1970s, Taiwan got its first opportunity to take away Japanese market share by adopting the Japanese factory management system.
And when the Taiwanese took their businesses to the mainland, they found a place for applying their skill with 50 times as many people. Because they combine the Japanese system and knowledge of China's labor force, they are better than Japanese in managing factories in China.
The magnitude of scaling up by Taiwanese businesses is beyond what the Japanese could have imagined. Indeed, no other businesses have done what Taiwanese businessmen have with hundreds of thousands of workers in labor intensive operations.
This Taiwanese success drove an economic restructuring in the United States. It allowed multinational companies to focus on research and development, branding and distribution. Today, a U.S. brand company can dream up a product and order it from a Taiwanese company with factories in China as easily as ordering a pizza from Pizza Hut. Without Taiwanese factories in China, it is hard to believe that Wal-Mart and Apple, the era's quintessential creatures, could have become as successful as they are.
This sustainability of this profitable relationship between U.S. brand and distribution companies and Taiwanese factories is based on a Chinese labor force that continues to be plentiful and willing to accept working conditions.
How Much Longer?
In early 1990s, when I was working in Latin America, I became bullish on China's future. I saw Chinese workers would go much farther than elsewhere to earn a little money for two reasons: a cultural acceptance of "eating bitterness" in life; and familial obligations.
The girls at the factory I visited were earning US$ 100 a month, which was not a bad wage. That money could be used to pay for a younger brother's tuition, a mother's medical bill and, if circumstance permitted, building a house for the whole family. Each worker was willing to sacrifice herself for the family; she was not living for herself. Essentially, she accepted hardship.
These factors have changed. Today's young adults are less willing to eat bitterness. They are the first generation to grow up during prosperity, without worrying about food and shelter. Many were pampered by parents sensitive to the one-child policy. They are more like counterparts in other countries, which is good for China's international relations.
Moreover, rural families are not desperate as they were a decade ago. Siblings are few, and the government pays much more for rural education. Health insurance is decreasing the numbers of families facing financial crises due to sickness. Most rural families have built houses. And familial obligations for today's rural youth are not as urgent as in the past.
Meanwhile, inflation has severely eroded income value. Today's rural youth aspire to live in big cities, yet property prices in cities have grown twice as fast as wages. Dreams of owning a house in a comfortable city are becoming more distant.
Recent events at Foxconn and Honda factories are symbols of this new China. The labor force isn't as plentiful or compliant as before, and the ways that governments and businesses are handling the situations expose their ignorance of a new reality. They still think these are isolated incidents and, through pressure and bribery (such as a little wage increase for all and then firing rebel leaders) can bring the situation back to normal.
They think this way because of a generation gap, and the unusual relationship between local governments and businesses in China. The economy has raced three times faster than western economies did a century ago, and the generation gap seems three times larger as well. Today's young adults and their parents may as well be from different centuries. But government and business leaders are all from the parental generation, handling labor crises from this old perspective.
The governing class judges everything on short-term, marginal economic improvement rather than according to dreams and long-term goals. Today's young people are more concerned about what will happen to them in the future. They want to settle down in big cities and have interesting, well-paying jobs – just like their counterparts in other countries. This vast generation gap in perception is the force behind social tension over China's property bubble as well as factory working conditions.
The current factory system is unable to realize the dreams of today's young people. China's factories are often in isolated locations and self-contained. Youths who leave villages for these jobs find themselves more isolated than at home, with little hope of integration into urban communities. Indeed, they are neither in city or village. It's the most isolated life possible.
The compensation system makes their lives extremely difficult as well. Base pay is low, and only with massive overtime can they expect close to 2,000 yuan a month. They have no time for self improvement or integrating into modern urban life. In a few years, they will lose their youth and jobs, but they still will not have the ability or financial resources to live in cities.
Business leaders and government officials, of course, are asking why these workers aren't willing to accept these conditions, like the workers of a decade ago. They grew up in poverty and rule the country with a view that marginal economic improvement is the purpose of life. They don't appreciate, however, that times have changed: The previous generation focused on economic benefits for relatives in villages, not their own futures.
The unusual relationship between factory owners and local governments makes it difficult to resolve or prevent labor problems. Most coastal factories have workers from interior provinces. The governments have few ties to workers, but they are very connected to factory owners through tax revenues and other benefits. Local governments, therefore, side with the businesses when dealing with workers.
To improve the situation, the central government should limit these major, isolated factory sites. In the future, they should be located close to cities. As in other countries, workers should be encouraged to rent housing rather than live in factory dormitories. They should have a chance to integrate into urban life.
For example, future factories should locate close to provincial capitals such as Changsha, Chengdu, Hefei and Nanchang, which until now have been supplying workers for coastal regions. As a general rule, these cities should discourage factory dormitories but instead build public transportation systems to link factories and residential areas.
For many, these sorts of solutions to China's labor challenges may be apparent. But government and business leaders may not understand them at all. They are blinded by the urge to continue operating within the confines of the old model while protecting businesses from potential buyers in the West. So, when dealing with crises such as those at Foxconn and Honda, they try temporary fixes.
I'm afraid similar yet greater problems will eventually surface. Ultimately, market force will bring down the current system. Workers don't have to show up for factory jobs. They can join the urban service sector instead, where wages may be a bit lower but lifestyles are much better, and have a chance to integrate into urban life.
Rising labor costs will ultimately force factories closer to labor sources, and working conditions will turn more humane. The biggest losers will be coastal governments that side with the factories to protect their revenues. If they refuse to change, they will lose the factories and all those nimble fingers.
Dismantling Factories in a Dreamweaver Nation
by Andy Xie
A new generation is challenging China's labor-squeezing business model and an older generation that apparently doesn't get it
A decade ago, I took a group of fund managers to an assembly line at an electronics manufacturing contractor in China. We saw rows and rows of young women hunkered down, concentrating on putting together tiny parts. They had few toilet breaks, and during rest periods they had to sit at their benches.
"They're all 18," the line manager told me. "We need nimble fingers. In a few years, we will replace them with another batch of 18-year-olds."
I wrote a story after that visit. I didn't judge the situation but stated that a compliant labor force willing to be pushed to the extreme was the fuel for China's economic miracle. The engine was the mutually beneficial relationship between western companies with technologies, brands and distribution channels, and China-based manufacturing outsourcing companies that specialized in taking advantage of China's vast, cheap labor force. These included Taiwanese companies, which have been by far the most successful in the original equipment manufacturer (OEM) business.
The fund managers with me on the visit wanted to determine sustainability and profitability before deciding whether to buy the company's shares. They thought an endless supply of labor would ensure the model's profitability, and they were bullish about the company. What's happened in the years since has proven them right.
But will they be right indefinitely? To answer that question, we can glance back to the days of silent film star Charlie Chaplin. In his movies, Chaplin parodied the inhumane nature of the modern factory system, especially monotonous human movement on assembly lines. What he portrayed vanished a long time ago in developed countries, driven out by rising labor costs. Factory owners invested in automation, such as robots that now dominate modern auto assembly plants.
When multinational companies outsourced production to China, though, their business became less capital intensive. They took advantage of low labor costs and abundant supply. Some businesses, such as battery makers, started substituting machines with people. But no one could have predicted how far the outsourcing model, particularly in the electronics sector, would go while companies scaled up and maximized economies of scale by using cheap labor.
Scaling Higher
Economies of scale are typically associated with capital intensive industries. When a business requires a lump-sum fixed investment, it requires a certain scale to make the investment pay. Outsourcing businesses in China are labor intensive but have scaled up massively. Some businesses employ hundreds of thousands, often at a single location. So where do they get the economies of scale?
I know of two factors that can be scaled up in such businesses: customer relations, and what I call labor squeeze.
Good relations with big buyers such as Apple and HP are not easily obtained. Years of interaction are needed to build necessary trust. Suppliers that prove better than others are retained, while the rest are dumped. As time goes by, the number of suppliers shrinks and the survivors expand.
Thus, economies of scale are improved through good management of customer relations. Apple, for example, demands total secrecy in the production of its products. This goal cannot be met if it uses many suppliers, so when it signs with a trustworthy supplier a virtuous cycle is created.
An even more important factor is labor management. What I observed during my visit 10 years ago was actually the key to economies of scale. To put it bluntly, the key competence of a successful OEM in China is to squeeze labor to the maximum extent possible. That skill is developed within an organization. When a company employs hundreds of thousands from all over China, it needs a massive machine that involves recruiting, housing, training, and worker management on the factory floor.
For example, the factory I visited derives its economies of scale from 1) knowing where to find all the 18-year-old girls, 2) convincing them to stay in factory dormitories, 3) training them to put the parts together, and 4) ensuring that no one takes too many toilet breaks. This is all part of a huge system that can derive considerable economies of scale by processing hundreds of thousands of workers.
Labor management as a core competitive advantage in East Asia began in Japan. After the Meiji Reforms, Japan wanted to industrialize quickly but faced the challenge of turning agricultural labor into industrial labor. It looked to the military for a role model. The military faced a similar challenge: It had to turn farm boys into soldiers. The answer was maximum pressure and total regimentation. Factory uniforms, morning exercises, company loyalty indoctrination, etc., thus became unique characteristics of Japanese factories.
This model becomes less relevant as the transition from rural to urban labor force winds down and labor costs rise. Nowadays, Japanese factories have few workers and lots of robots on factory floors.
The Japanese military factory management system spread to other parts of East Asia, especially Taiwan. It was a Japanese colony for a half-century and receptive to Japanese management skills. When the yen's value rose in the 1970s, Taiwan got its first opportunity to take away Japanese market share by adopting the Japanese factory management system.
And when the Taiwanese took their businesses to the mainland, they found a place for applying their skill with 50 times as many people. Because they combine the Japanese system and knowledge of China's labor force, they are better than Japanese in managing factories in China.
The magnitude of scaling up by Taiwanese businesses is beyond what the Japanese could have imagined. Indeed, no other businesses have done what Taiwanese businessmen have with hundreds of thousands of workers in labor intensive operations.
This Taiwanese success drove an economic restructuring in the United States. It allowed multinational companies to focus on research and development, branding and distribution. Today, a U.S. brand company can dream up a product and order it from a Taiwanese company with factories in China as easily as ordering a pizza from Pizza Hut. Without Taiwanese factories in China, it is hard to believe that Wal-Mart and Apple, the era's quintessential creatures, could have become as successful as they are.
This sustainability of this profitable relationship between U.S. brand and distribution companies and Taiwanese factories is based on a Chinese labor force that continues to be plentiful and willing to accept working conditions.
How Much Longer?
In early 1990s, when I was working in Latin America, I became bullish on China's future. I saw Chinese workers would go much farther than elsewhere to earn a little money for two reasons: a cultural acceptance of "eating bitterness" in life; and familial obligations.
The girls at the factory I visited were earning US$ 100 a month, which was not a bad wage. That money could be used to pay for a younger brother's tuition, a mother's medical bill and, if circumstance permitted, building a house for the whole family. Each worker was willing to sacrifice herself for the family; she was not living for herself. Essentially, she accepted hardship.
These factors have changed. Today's young adults are less willing to eat bitterness. They are the first generation to grow up during prosperity, without worrying about food and shelter. Many were pampered by parents sensitive to the one-child policy. They are more like counterparts in other countries, which is good for China's international relations.
Moreover, rural families are not desperate as they were a decade ago. Siblings are few, and the government pays much more for rural education. Health insurance is decreasing the numbers of families facing financial crises due to sickness. Most rural families have built houses. And familial obligations for today's rural youth are not as urgent as in the past.
Meanwhile, inflation has severely eroded income value. Today's rural youth aspire to live in big cities, yet property prices in cities have grown twice as fast as wages. Dreams of owning a house in a comfortable city are becoming more distant.
Recent events at Foxconn and Honda factories are symbols of this new China. The labor force isn't as plentiful or compliant as before, and the ways that governments and businesses are handling the situations expose their ignorance of a new reality. They still think these are isolated incidents and, through pressure and bribery (such as a little wage increase for all and then firing rebel leaders) can bring the situation back to normal.
They think this way because of a generation gap, and the unusual relationship between local governments and businesses in China. The economy has raced three times faster than western economies did a century ago, and the generation gap seems three times larger as well. Today's young adults and their parents may as well be from different centuries. But government and business leaders are all from the parental generation, handling labor crises from this old perspective.
The governing class judges everything on short-term, marginal economic improvement rather than according to dreams and long-term goals. Today's young people are more concerned about what will happen to them in the future. They want to settle down in big cities and have interesting, well-paying jobs – just like their counterparts in other countries. This vast generation gap in perception is the force behind social tension over China's property bubble as well as factory working conditions.
The current factory system is unable to realize the dreams of today's young people. China's factories are often in isolated locations and self-contained. Youths who leave villages for these jobs find themselves more isolated than at home, with little hope of integration into urban communities. Indeed, they are neither in city or village. It's the most isolated life possible.
The compensation system makes their lives extremely difficult as well. Base pay is low, and only with massive overtime can they expect close to 2,000 yuan a month. They have no time for self improvement or integrating into modern urban life. In a few years, they will lose their youth and jobs, but they still will not have the ability or financial resources to live in cities.
Business leaders and government officials, of course, are asking why these workers aren't willing to accept these conditions, like the workers of a decade ago. They grew up in poverty and rule the country with a view that marginal economic improvement is the purpose of life. They don't appreciate, however, that times have changed: The previous generation focused on economic benefits for relatives in villages, not their own futures.
The unusual relationship between factory owners and local governments makes it difficult to resolve or prevent labor problems. Most coastal factories have workers from interior provinces. The governments have few ties to workers, but they are very connected to factory owners through tax revenues and other benefits. Local governments, therefore, side with the businesses when dealing with workers.
To improve the situation, the central government should limit these major, isolated factory sites. In the future, they should be located close to cities. As in other countries, workers should be encouraged to rent housing rather than live in factory dormitories. They should have a chance to integrate into urban life.
For example, future factories should locate close to provincial capitals such as Changsha, Chengdu, Hefei and Nanchang, which until now have been supplying workers for coastal regions. As a general rule, these cities should discourage factory dormitories but instead build public transportation systems to link factories and residential areas.
For many, these sorts of solutions to China's labor challenges may be apparent. But government and business leaders may not understand them at all. They are blinded by the urge to continue operating within the confines of the old model while protecting businesses from potential buyers in the West. So, when dealing with crises such as those at Foxconn and Honda, they try temporary fixes.
I'm afraid similar yet greater problems will eventually surface. Ultimately, market force will bring down the current system. Workers don't have to show up for factory jobs. They can join the urban service sector instead, where wages may be a bit lower but lifestyles are much better, and have a chance to integrate into urban life.
Rising labor costs will ultimately force factories closer to labor sources, and working conditions will turn more humane. The biggest losers will be coastal governments that side with the factories to protect their revenues. If they refuse to change, they will lose the factories and all those nimble fingers.
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