Fixing Capitalism Means Taking Power Back From Business
By David Rothkopf
Newt Gingrich’s latest attack on fellow Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney’s leadership of a private-equity firm goes to the heart of today’s biggest debate in politics and economics. “If we identify capitalism with rich guys looting companies, we’re going to have a very hard time protecting it,” he said. Protecting—or, more particularly, fixing—capitalism will be a big topic at the World Economic Forum in Davos this month. With the global economy still sputtering and governments unable to successfully address big issues like income inequality, unemployment and growing debt, it’s a subject that’s front and center not only in the U.S. but also throughout Europe, Asia and the rest of the world.
A key part of fixing capitalism will be reconciling the large and growing imbalances between the public and private sector. National governments have, over the past several decades, seen the most basic pillars of their power erode. Globalization has undermined their efforts to manage their borders. The ability to control their own currency has been lost for all but a handful of major powers. Fewer than two dozen have the ability to sustainably project force beyond their borders. Meanwhile, corporations play nation-states against one another as they venue-shop for more attractive tax or regulatory regimes. This arbitrage undermines nations’ ability to enforce their own laws. Indeed, the rise of big stateless corporations, which now rival many countries in terms of economic and political clout, poses special new challenges to governments.
When early corporations were established by royal charters almost a millennium ago, there was no mistaking their purpose. They had been created by the state to serve its interests. But over the centuries, they took advantage of their special status, which allowed them to achieve enormous scale and buy political favor. The result: They helped shape the development of laws that further tipped the balance of power in their favor.
Corporations have morphed from legal entities designed to ensure an enterprise could survive the death of its owners to institutions possessing more rights than people. The 14th Amendment, established in the late 19th century, granted citizens equal protection under the law. Yet most of the times it has been invoked since its adoption were on behalf of corporate rights. Corporations have used the 14th Amendment to do things like block taxes levied “without due process” and define advertising copy as protected free speech. More recently, the U.S. Supreme Court’s landmark 2010 decision in favor of the conservative organization Citizens United—which relaxed campaign-finance limits on corporations and labor unions and spawned so-called super PACs (political action committees)—equated money spent on political campaigns with constitutionally protected speech. The practical effect has been that those with money can crowd the airwaves with their message.
The biggest companies—the Walmarts and Exxons of the world—have financial resources and political reach that rival all but a few dozen states. Even the 2,000th largest company on the planet is at the center of more economic activity than scores of small countries like Mongolia or Haiti. As borderless supercitizens, global corporations have changed the international order, yet our rules and approaches to governance remain the same.
We have also lost sight of the philosophical ideas that historically gave national governments their authority. The current argument that larger government impinges on rather than protects or advances individual liberties is a far cry from the ideas that fueled England’s Glorious Revolution and the American Revolution. It ignores the fact that the void created by smaller government is often not filled by “liberty.” When matters like the global environment or regulation of derivatives trading are left entirely to market forces, for instance, outcomes tend to serve the most powerful because markets neither have a conscience nor do they ensure opportunity. Rather, they seek efficiency, and efficiency loves scale, and enterprises that grow to scale become elephants stamping out opportunities around them. This was well understood by the father of capitalism, Adam Smith. He condemned the abuses of the megacompanies of his day, like the British East India Co., calling them “nuisances in every respect,” since the monopolies they fostered inevitably led to profit-destroying corruption.
We’ve seen imbalances between commerce, government and other powerful institutions before. In each case, new technologies that increased communication and travel and changed the ways products were made disrupted the status quo. It happened during the Thirty Years’ War in Europe, when battles between church and state resulted in today’s world of nation-states. It happened during the Enlightenment, as new technologies of mass communication linked and elevated average people, enabling them to challenge monarchies. Later it helped undo the mercantile system and colonialism. Each of these phases was marked by unrest and uncertainty. And each came with philosophical revolutions, leading to the development of ideas like separation of church and state, the notion that the legitimacy of the state is linked to the consent of the governed, and the ideological contest between socialism and capitalism. It is still happening. High-speed transportation has made it possible to produce goods anywhere, communications technologies have created 24-hour global markets, and markets in cyberspace have moved beyond the reach of national tax laws or regulators.
Today’s contest is not so much between capitalism and another ideology but between competing forms of capitalism. The financial crisis, growing inequality and faltering economic performance in the U.S. have tarnished American “leave it to the markets” capitalism, which is being challenged by “capitalism with Chinese characteristics,” eurocapitalism, “democratic development capitalism” (India and Brazil) and even small-state entrepreneurial capitalism (Singapore, U.A.E. and Israel). All these models favor a more significant role for the state in regulation, ownership and control of assets.
Whichever model triumphs, there’s a need for stronger regional and global institutions. Europe needs a more robust E.U., with powerful regulatory and central-banking institutions and weakened national governments. Global financial regulation, addressing climate issues and containing weapons of mass destruction all require better multilateral governance. But because business has grown so important, the public sector will have to work with the private. Companies will need to become more like states in providing social services. And states will need to become more like companies: entrepreneurial, flexible and less hierarchical.
All this is a continuation of history’s great upheavals, and we are in for a new period of volatility. It’s the natural effect of the blurring lines between corporations and individuals, companies and states, nations and the global community.
I tend to agree with you. For starters, many more people should be renting rather than owning.
Speaking of housing, which has been blamed as the cause of the 2008 crisis (alternatively to bankers' greed), it's interesting to me that most media seem to talk about **causes** of the crisis when they are in fact talking about **triggers**.
Last edited by fxh (2012-02-25 22:13:03)
In 1958 -1959 Britain was overtaken as the main buyer of Australian wool by Japan and approximately three years later Japan purchased twice the wool Britain did.
By 1976 wool ceased to be Australia’s major source of export income, regularly being passed by black coal and occasionally wheat, alumina and iron ore. In the 1980s the processing of Australian wool was experiencing significant changes. Europe as a whole was being challenged by East Asia where China, with its economy slowly reviving began to emerge as a major market for Australian wool.
China has now become the dominant source of global demand for wool. It is by far the world's largest importer of raw wool fibre, where in the mid 1990s only approximately 20 percent of Australia's wool exports, by volume, were going to China. In 2007, the figure had risen to nearly 70 per cent.
THE 1980s in Australia is known as "the decade of greed". It was the peak of a business cycle, of readily available credit and super-optimism. It was a fantasy time when speculators sought, as in all boom times, to defy economic gravity.
But the bubble burst, bringing down a group of bold-riding entrepreneurial cowboys. Their names - and their huge losses - are now legendary. But there was a vastly bigger financial loss that has remained repressed.
This disaster befell Australia's once great foundation industry, wool. The losses were staggering: some $12 billion, or more than $20bn in today's terms. Moreover, the seeds of this disaster were planted well before the 80s and involved corruption of the political process at the highest levels in the land.
A long run of favourable climatic years, rising wool prices and easily made profits in the 80s meant wool attracted investors and speculators with an eye to the main chance. Merino genetics and wool became the hot topic in corporate boardrooms and so the big players moved in. They included John Roberts, Kerry Packer, Alan Bond, Rupert Murdoch, National Mutual Superannuation Fund, Robert Holmes a Court, Rodney Price, John Elliott and many others. Most were novices to the wool game.
None of these players imagined wool would crash and burn. After all, until 1991 wool had been the backbone of the nation's economy for 150 years. The industry had helped shape much of modern Australia, its national character and distinctive culture. A merino ram's head had adorned the shilling coin and industry notables stared out from decimal notes.
But in a brief period between January 1988 and February 1991, the wool industry self-destructed like a blazing comet. The ensuing losses and the disintegration of wealth, merchant and manufacturing capital in Australia and globally were to dwarf what has been regarded as Australia's greatest corporate-business disaster: that of Adelaide Steamship's $7bn loss.
Gross political deception, flawed policies and leadership failures were what precipitated the spectacular and egregious collapse of Australia's once greatest industry. The debacle can be laid at the feet of a small group of federal government ministers, agri-politicians and wool industry and statutory leaders.
Why hasn't Australia heard about this monumental crash, a collapse that has debilitated and handcuffed the wool industry to this day? And more to the point, how could such a disaster have come about in this old, most careful and staid of industries?
While the antecedents of the great wool crash of 1991 reach back to Australia's early pastoral history, it was in the 1920s that there began an unremitting quest by agrarian socialist federal and agricultural politicians for a reserve price scheme. This scheme, above all other factors, would contribute to the collapse of the wool industry.
An RPS is a variation of a buffer-stock scheme, aimed at "price stabilisation" through government intervention. It functions when a central authority (usually a government or its agency) purchases supply of a commodity. This is then stored and subsequently released on to the market in an attempt to reduce price fluctuations. But through time, and throughout the world, almost all such schemes (involving many commodities) have failed. They fail because greed invariably kicks in and they evolve into price-gouging vehicles. Huge stockpiles then accrue as buyers hang off because of artificially high prices and in time the scheme collapses. But the wool industry believed it could ignore the lessons of history.
The key factor that led to the instigation of an RPS was the rise to gargantuan status of synthetic fibres (such as polyester and acrylic) combined with the renaissance of cotton. Under intense competitive pressure, wool prices collapsed through the 50s, and halved again by 1971. This proved cataclysmic for the wool industry, commercially and politically. Inevitably, pressure to instigate an RPS became intense: so intense that this idee fixe attained the status of a religious quest.
The Australian wool industry was thus presented with a clear choice: either it could meet competitors with healthy competitive means or else choose a political solution.
Unfortunately the latter path was taken, sealing the industry's fate.
Critical to what now became the inevitable imposition of statutory intervention and an RPS in the Australian wool industry was the emergence in the 50s of Country Party leader John "Black Jack" McEwen. He was the gloved fist behind prime minister Robert Menzies' throne. McEwen deeply entrenched protectionism in the Australian economy, and both he and his departmental head John Crawford were strong RPS supporters. They aligned with a third key player in their quest for statutory intervention, a man who would rise to dominate the Australian wool industry like no other before or since, William Gunn.
Gunn was a bulky, 195cm, rough-cut Queenslander who would become one of the most famous Australian politicians to bestride the national and international stage.
Throughout his long career Gunn remained a gauche outback bushie. His minders who tried to make him presentable, along with some of the world's elite tailors, simply gave up, as the best English and Italian suits were quickly reduced to crumpled potato sacks on his large frame. But in his pursuit of government intervention in the wool industry, this charismatic, larger-than-life conundrum was as cunning as a fox and as focused, patient and deadly as a trap-door spider.
Gunn was McEwen's best friend and the two, aided by other Country Party ministers and by Crawford and pliable agri-politicians, converted statutory wool boards into highly politicised interventionist vehicles. This was the group that would unilaterally achieve an RPS and statutory control of the entire Australian wool clip. They would do this through a corruption of the Australian political process. This involved them engineering a secret coup that eventually resulted in the creation of the Australian Wool Corporation in 1973 and its notorious RPS.
The Australian Wool Corporation set about trying to convert itself into a giant Woolly Dupont: a transnational fibre marketer. But the attempt to defy history by running the first ever successful buffer-stock scheme was imbued with what Nobel laureate and philosopher Friedrich von Hayek dubbed "the fatal conceit": the belief people could order things better than the market. The result was a fatally flawed, quasi-socialistic business model that converted a diverse variety of beautiful fibres into bland and collectivised mediocrity. At the same time, and because of the undue influence of non-democratically elected agri-politicians on their national body the Wool Council, international customers were perversely regarded as the enemy in the push to turn the Wool Corporation into a giant trader.
Momentum on the path to destruction accelerated when, from 1979, the Wool Corporation was led by a powerful "wool emperor", the autocratic executive chairman David Asimus. As the 80s unfolded, Asimus, his team and the Wool Council (legislatively empowered by now to play a key role in the industry's governance) built the corporation into the queen bee of the global wool industry.
Because of the massive size of the Australian wool clip and the Wool Corporation's reserve price settings, Australia dictated the global wool price while foisting its culture and systems on the wool trade.
With this domination of culture came arrogance and hubris. And so, by the mid 80s, an entire global industry was brought to the edge of the precipice as the Corporation tried to impose its flawed business model.
But this ultimately failed, as had been long predicted by some of Australia's leading economic brains. What followed was an extraordinarily rapid unwinding of the free market system for wool, an unwinding that ended in calamity on the collapse of the Wool Corporation's RPS in February 1991. This did not just constitute Australia's biggest ever business collapse (based on conservative accounting), but the staggering sums do not include the incalculable opportunity, environmental and social costs in Australia and overseas.
One of the most striking things about this story is not just the inexorable nature of the ensuing catastrophe, but the breathtaking speed with which the crisis unfolded. Once the wrong policies and structures were in place, basic human nature took care of the rest: arrogance, greed, duplicity, ignorance and indecision. There were cover-ups at the highest statutory levels; fatal group-think under crisis; denial; and cabinet-level indecision.
Notable also was the fight for the prime ministership between prime minister Bob Hawke and treasurer Paul Keating in 1990, which trampled on the wool industry at a critical moment.
On the brink of imminent disaster in late 1990, key individuals on the Wool Corporation board and in Wool Council sought to blame the government and primary industries minister John Kerin, and also the woolgrowers, for the debacle. But the debacle was due in large part to their misjudgment and intransigence. Hundred-million-dollar schemes were hatched to shoot tens of millions of sheep, while the wool-taxed "peasants" were forced to pay a scarcely imaginable 25 per cent up-front tax on gross wool income, with imminent plans to reduce their effective income by 75 per cent.
Despite the size and scope of the wool industry's collapse - one that reached across seven federal governments and into the highest levels of office, as well as its effect more generally on Australian society and overseas - there has never been a royal commission.
Tragically, however, the debacle did not cease on the great crash of 1991. Subsequent federal governments, instead of disbanding statutory intervention, have only entrenched it. They thereby have perpetuated the industry's path of death by ten thousand cuts. Consequently today, Australia's once greatest export industry has been reduced to a third the size and value of what it was in 1990.
Yes, Australia once rode on the sheep's back and now it does so no longer. But Australia still dominates the world's trading of high quality apparel wool. It still possesses huge natural advantages and intellectual property in wool production and the marketing of a high-quality apparel fibre. Out of the ashes an alternative pathway is achievable. It is one that envisions a vibrant industry boasting a collection of high-end brands and responsive value-chain alliances that treasure the customer. These brands, alliances and the opportunity they would present could multiply export revenue and rebuild gutted rural communities. Moreover, in the face of the onrushing challenge of large social-ecological problems and climate change, the Australian wool industry, if allowed, could play a crucial role in this area. It can provide solutions through the production and value-recognition of wonderful natural fibres and healthy food.
To go this next step, however, the Australian government now needs to absolve its complicity in the great wool disaster. It can do this by enabling a fully competitive and free market environment to operate.
Therefore, the challenge for Joe Ludwig, federal Minister for Agriculture, Fisheries and Forestry, is to unwind ongoing and retrograde statutory intervention and its attendant heavy load of parasitic rent-seekers and flawed systems and culture. This means breaking the shackles of decades of path-dependence, whose effects constrain the industry at every turn. Then, and only then, can innovation and creativity be fully released and an unencumbered industry fly freely.
This is all relevant to clothes.
The Australian wool industry in supporting a floor price did several things simultaneously .
They lowered the quaility of Australian wool from superb superfine valued by all, down to FAQ, created a commodity, and we all know about the pricing of commodities.
At the same time as their was competition from man made fibres and cotton they upped the price of wool at the same time by artificially inducing a shortage , by creating the wool stockpile.
This also encouraged Australian farmers, always looking for a lazy dollar, into producing more low grade, or FAQ, wool instead of superfine. Just the sort of wool that was able to be produced almost anywhere.
Upping the price artificially forced many small companies in Japan and UK, our biggest markets, and high class, markets, into bankruptcy.
This led to a huge, and entirely justified, mistrust of australin wool producers that has lasted for years and years.
In the meantime Japanese and UK manufacturers and wool merchants , stopped trusting and buying Australian wool, Australian wool became very average quality, and manufacturers looked elsewhere for wool, and other substitutes, and created cloth, and clothing that was NOT wool.
Last edited by fxh (2012-02-26 02:25:37)
How Australia Kissed Recessions Goodbye
By Matthew Yglesias | Posted Friday, Feb. 24, 2012, at 1:57 PM ET
Australia is currently undergoing an amusing leadership battle between two titans of the Labor Party, incumbent Prime Minister Julia Gillard and Foreign Minister Kevin Rudd who used to be Prime Minister until his then-deputy Gillard deposed him in a swift intra-party coup. Perhaps related to the relative lack of substance in the leadership battle, Australia is awesome at fighting recessions. While American economic commentators have looked at two straight long "jobless" recoveries and concluded that the very structure of the world economy has changed, Australia . . . just skipped those recessions:I would sugges that not coincidentally, while Australia is better than the USA at avoiding prolonged periods of agonizing mass unemployment and wage stagnation, they're not as good at generating consistently low and stable inflation
People sometimes try to tell you that Australia is just a story about commodities exports to China, but I think the inflation numbers are telling. Around the late-90s boom, Australia's inflationary peak was much larger than ours and then when they corrected downward they weren't as aggressive about it as the Fed was. After the global financial crisis the US CPI slipped into negative territory specifically because of tumbling commodity prices, but commodity-oriented Australia kept inflation positive and then re-inflated a bit. These things can be done if you want to do them.
http://www.slate.com/blogs/moneybox/2012/02/24/australia_kissed_recessions_goodbye.html
Aye, the rates being paid in oil & gas in Perth are outstanding, what puts me off relocating there, is the anti-oxford cloth weather and the fact that house prices for a house, any house, now start at over a million Aussie dollars. Which informs me the boat has well and truly been missed.
That's real estate bullshit about house prices. Where you looking?
Mind you Perth is an overheated hick town full of relocated Poms in shorts.
That's from my colleagues over there, they also say it's seriously expensive for food and going out to restaurants compared to Europe.
Maybe in Perth, but even then it varies. Maybe they are earning too much.
My last experience of your end of the world was two years ago in Rotterdam, Amsterdam, scotland, mainly Aberdeen and around Ireland. Unless its changed dramatically eating out there was up to twice as expensive as here, less choice and less quality. Much the same with wine.
Last edited by Big Tony (2012-03-27 09:06:21)