Growth, growth, growth... The regrettable lack of it and the imperative to encourage it were the guiding themes of the Chancellor's Autumn Statement, as they have been of practically anything anyone has said about the economy for years. Higher growth boosts national wealth and national morale; falling growth pushes countries into recession, which makes them feel, deservedly, very bad. So runs the consensus.
But maybe it is time to end this preoccupation with economic growth as the measure of success, stop chasing high growth that is unrealistic, and apply some ingenuity to making the best of low growth or even decline.
With the overall size of the UK economy unlikely to return to its 2008 level until, at the earliest, 2014, might we not feel better about ourselves if, instead of pursuing growth, we were able to improve living standards as a nation by doing more with less?
The fetishisation of growth seems to stem in part from a misconception: that the industrialised world cannot compete with China, India and other emerging economies – as it should in this age of globalisation – unless our growth rates can somehow be made to approach theirs. But these are emerging economies, which are defined by their rapid development. We passed this stage long ago.
To those who then hold up Poland, the Baltic States and others as exemplifying the possibility of high growth closer to home, there is a different answer: these essentially European economies were artificially repressed under Communism. They are now settling back into the slower growth that characterises the Continent's western half. Their growth pattern was abnormal.
The economic rise of China, in particular, has somehow fostered another misconception: that the bigger the economy, the better, and that size is something all should strive for. Of course, a time is coming when the overall size of China's economy will overtake that of the United States. Just look at the comparative population figures. But so what? The more telling comparison – between the US and China, or indeed between any two or more countries – is between their per capita GDPs. China is a poor country, and will remain one for many years, even in the unlikely event that its current growth rates are sustained.
The rich world cannot and should not expect to compete with the emerging world on growth rates – or, in the future, on economic size. The competition, such as it is – and as the Arab Spring has illustrated so clearly – is for higher living standards, for which per capita GDP and purchasing power comparisons are the gauge. No country, Britain included, should beat itself up for not being China.
The reason why Britain – and the US – should be wearing sackcloth to this day is for the fervency of their belief that high economic growth is intrinsically superior to low growth, however it is obtained. Thus we watched the US boasting about its growth rates to the rest of the world in the mid-1990s – President Clinton at the G8 summit in 1997 – and "vibrant" Britain lecturing France and Germany not a decade later about how "old Europe" should emulate Britain and "grow".
Two harsh truths have since emerged about that Blair boom. The first was highlighted by George Osborne for his own political purposes this week, when he cited evidence from the Office for Budget Responsibility showing that "an even bigger component of the growth that preceded the financial crisis was an unsustainable boom". In other words, it was fuelled by –irresponsibly – easy money; it was more of a bubble than a boom.
The other is that, to the extent there was a boom, it did precious little for living standards across the board. It may have looked good, averaged out nationally, in comparison with what was going on in, say, Germany. But, as in the United States, the actual effect was to drive pay at the top into the stratosphere, allow some professional groups just about to hold their own, while excluding and even penalising middle- and lower-income groups. What is more, it is these same groups that now suffer most from the higher inflation and squeeze on credit which are invoked as part of the remedy. If the UK's growth in the early 2000s was not a complete mirage, its effect was not to make Britons more prosperous, but to exacerbate income inequality.
What price economic growth if it fails to spread its benefits beyond a fraction of the top one per cent?
The way Britain followed the United States in elevating economic growth to an article of political faith had another pernicious effect, too. It encouraged the vilification of those countries that were growing only slowly or not at all – without requiring any examination of the particular reasons. Thus Germany was condemned for tolerating almost static growth, while it was, on the one hand, bearing the considerable costs of unification, and, on the other, deliberately slowing the growth of wages and benefits to make its industry globally competitive – a long-term objective that it has achieved in enviable style.
The "Great Satan" in the demonology of growth, however, has been not Germany but Japan. Western experts of every stripe have offered their growth recipes to Japan: from increasing the relatively low proportion of women in the labour force, to encouraging immigration, to a thorough overhaul of its business practices.
What is rarely mentioned, except in highly negative terms, is that Japan's is an ageing population, and that its long "recession" goes hand in hand with falling numbers of people. Given the alarm bells that rang when the global population passed seven billion, with forecasts of overcrowding, food and water shortages and the like, why does the reverse not hold? Why cannot a falling population, with static national GDP, not be hailed as the modest success that it is?
The Japanese enjoy some of the highest living standards in the world; their workers are productive, and their universities are at the forefront of researching solutions to the maladies of ageing: from medical and social care to high-tech domestic aids. Static growth need not mean falling living standards. It depends on the circumstances.
And there is a corollary in Britain. Our population is increasing, which in part reflects the country's appeal as a place to live, and a bigger population is likely to have the effect of increasing overall GDP. But higher national GDP, shared out unequally among more people, is hardly calculated to produce a greater sense of wellbeing.
Instead of lauding growth for its own sake, we should try to use what we have more rationally, and accept that, in terms of living standards, the erstwhile growth laggards might have something to teach.
The Myth of Japan’s Failure
Eamonn Fingleton is an author who predicted the Japanese financial crash of the 1990s; he is working on a book about the end of the American dream.
Despite some small signs of optimism about the United States economy, unemployment is still high, and the country seems stalled.Time and again, Americans are told to look to Japan as a warning of what the country might become if the right path is not followed, although there is intense disagreement about what that path might be. Here, for instance, is how the CNN analyst David Gergen has described Japan: “It’s now a very demoralized country and it has really been set back.”
But that presentation of Japan is a myth. By many measures, the Japanese economy has done very well during the so-called lost decades, which started with a stock market crash in January 1990. By some of the most important measures, it has done a lot better than the United States.
Japan has succeeded in delivering an increasingly affluent lifestyle to its people despite the financial crash. In the fullness of time, it is likely that this era will be viewed as an outstanding success story.
How can the reality and the image be so different? And can the United States learn from Japan’s experience?
It is true that Japanese housing prices have never returned to the ludicrous highs they briefly touched in the wild final stage of the boom. Neither has the Tokyo stock market.
But the strength of Japan’s economy and its people is evident in many ways. There are a number of facts and figures that don’t quite square with Japan’s image as the laughingstock of the business pages:
• Japan’s average life expectancy at birth grew by 4.2 years — to 83 years from 78.8 years — between 1989 and 2009. This means the Japanese now typically live 4.8 years longer than Americans. The progress, moreover, was achieved in spite of, rather than because of, diet. The Japanese people are eating more Western food than ever. The key driver has been better health care.
• Japan has made remarkable strides in Internet infrastructure. Although as late as the mid-1990s it was ridiculed as lagging, it has now turned the tables. In a recent survey by Akamai Technologies, of the 50 cities in the world with the fastest Internet service, 38 were in Japan, compared to only 3 in the United States.
• Measured from the end of 1989, the yen has risen 87 percent against the U.S. dollar and 94 percent against the British pound. It has even risen against that traditional icon of monetary rectitude, the Swiss franc.
• The unemployment rate is 4.2 percent, about half of that in the United States.
• According to skyscraperpage.com, a Web site that tracks major buildings around the world, 81 high-rise buildings taller than 500 feet have been constructed in Tokyo since the “lost decades” began. That compares with 64 in New York, 48 in Chicago, and 7 in Los Angeles.
• Japan’s current account surplus — the widest measure of its trade — totaled $196 billion in 2010, up more than threefold since 1989. By comparison, America’s current account deficit ballooned to $471 billion from $99 billion in that time. Although in the 1990s the conventional wisdom was that as a result of China’s rise Japan would be a major loser and the United States a major winner, it has not turned out that way. Japan has increased its exports to China more than 14-fold since 1989 and Chinese-Japanese bilateral trade remains in broad balance.
As longtime Japan watchers like Ivan P. Hall and Clyde V. Prestowitz Jr. point out, the fallacy of the “lost decades” story is apparent to American visitors the moment they set foot in the country. Typically starting their journeys at such potent symbols of American infrastructural decay as Kennedy or Dulles airports, they land at Japanese airports that have been extensively expanded and modernized in recent years.
William J. Holstein, a prominent Japan watcher since the early 1980s, recently visited the country for the first time in some years. “There’s a dramatic gap between what one reads in the United States and what one sees on the ground in Japan,” he said. “The Japanese are dressed better than Americans. They have the latest cars, including Porsches, Audis, Mercedes-Benzes and all the finest models. I have never seen so many spoiled pets. And the physical infrastructure of the country keeps improving and evolving.”
Why, then, is Japan seen as a loser? On the official gross domestic product numbers, the United States has ostensibly outperformed Japan for many years. But even taking America’s official numbers at face value, the difference has been far narrower than people realize. Adjusted to a per-capita basis (which is the proper way to do this) and measured since 1989, America’s G.D.P. grew by an average of just 1.4 percent a year.
Japan’s figure meanwhile was even more anemic — just 1 percent — implying that it underperformed the United States by 0.4 percent a year.
A look at the underlying accounting, however, suggests that, far from underperforming, Japan may have outperformed. For a start, in a little noticed change, United States statisticians in the 1980s embarked on an increasingly aggressive use of the so-called hedonic method of adjusting for inflation, an approach that in the view of many experts artificially boosts a nation’s apparent growth rate.
On the calculations of John Williams of Shadowstats.com, a Web site that tracks flaws in United States economic data, America’s growth in recent decades has been overstated by as much as 2 percentage points a year. If he is even close to the truth, this factor alone may put the United States behind Japan in per-capita performance.
If the Japanese have really been hurting, the most obvious place this would show would be in slow adoption of expensive new high-tech items. Yet the Japanese are consistently among the world’s earliest adopters. If anything, it is Americans who have been lagging. In cellphones, for instance, Japan leapfrogged the United States in the space of a few years in the late 1990s and it has stayed ahead ever since, with consumers moving exceptionally rapidly to ever more advanced devices.
Much of the story is qualitative rather than quantitative. An example is Japan’s eating-out culture. Tokyo, according to the Michelin Guide, boasts 16 of the world’s top-ranked restaurants, versus a mere 10 for the runner-up, Paris. Similarly Japan as a whole beats France in the Michelin ratings. But how do you express this in G.D.P. terms?
Similar problems arise in measuring improvements in the Japanese health care system. And how does one accurately convey the vast improvement in the general environment in Japan in the last two decades?
Luckily there is a yardstick that finesses many of these problems: electricity output, which is mainly a measure of consumer affluence and industrial activity. In the 1990s, while Japan was being widely portrayed as an outright “basket case,” its rate of increase in per-capita electricity output was twice that of America, and it continued to outperform into the new century.
Part of what is going on here is Western psychology. Anyone who has followed the story long-term cannot help but notice that many Westerners actively seek to belittle Japan. Thus every policy success is automatically discounted. It is a mind-set that is much in evidence even among Tokyo-based Western diplomats and scholars.
Take, for instance, how Western observers have viewed Japan’s demographics. The population is getting older because of a low birthrate, a characteristic Japan shares with many of the world’s richest nations. Yet this is presented not only as a critical problem but as a policy failure. It never seems to occur to Western commentators that the Japanese both individually and collectively have chosen their demographic fate — and have good reasons for doing so.
The story begins in the terrible winter of 1945-6, when, newly bereft of their empire, the Japanese nearly starved to death. With overseas expansion no longer an option, Japanese leaders determined as a top priority to cut the birthrate. Thereafter a culture of small families set in that has continued to the present day.
Japan’s motivation is clear: food security. With only about one-third as much arable land per capita as China, Japan has long been the world’s largest net food importer. While the birth control policy is the primary cause of Japan’s aging demographics, the phenomenon also reflects improved health care and an increase of more than 20 years in life expectancy since 1950.
Psychology aside, a major factor in the West’s comprehension problem is that virtually everyone in Tokyo benefits from the doom and gloom story. For foreign sales representatives, for instance, it has been the perfect get-out-of-jail card when they don’t reach their quotas. For Japanese foundations it is the perfect excuse in politely waving away solicitations from American universities and other needy nonprofits. Ditto for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in tempering expectations of foreign aid recipients. Even American investment bankers have reasons to emphasize bad news. Most notably they profit from the so-called yen-carry trade, an arcane but powerful investment strategy in which the well informed benefit from periodic bouts of weakness in the Japanese yen.
Economic ideology has also played an unfortunate role. Many economists, particularly right-wing think-tank types, are such staunch advocates of laissez-faire that they reflexively scorn Japan’s very different economic system, with its socialist medicine and ubiquitous government regulation. During the stock market bubble of the late 1980s, this mind-set abated but it came back after the crash.
Japanese trade negotiators noticed an almost magical sweetening in the mood in foreign capitals after the stock market crashed in 1990. Although previously there had been much envy of Japan abroad (and serious talk of protectionist measures), in the new circumstances American and European trade negotiators switched to feeling sorry for the “fallen giant.” Nothing if not fast learners, Japanese trade negotiators have been appealing for sympathy ever since.
The strategy seems to have been particularly effective in Washington. Believing that you shouldn’t kick a man when he is down, chivalrous American officials have largely given up pressing for the opening of Japan’s markets. Yet the great United States trade complaints of the late 1980s — concerning rice, financial services, cars and car components — were never remedied.
The “fallen giant” story has also even been useful to other East Asian nations, particularly in their trade diplomacy with the United States.
A striking instance of how the story has influenced American perceptions appears in “The Next 100 Years,” by the consultant George Friedman. In a chapter headed “China 2020: Paper Tiger,” Mr. Friedman argues that, just as Japan “failed” in the 1990s, China will soon have its comeuppance. Talk of this sort powerfully fosters complacency and confusion in Washington in the face of a United States-China trade relationship that is already arguably the most destructive in world history and certainly the most unbalanced.
Clearly the question of what has really happened to Japan is of first-order geopolitical importance. In a stunning refutation of American conventional wisdom, Japan has not missed a beat in building an ever more sophisticated industrial base. That this is not more obvious is a tribute in part to the fact that Japanese manufacturers have graduated to making so-called producers’ goods. These typically consist of advanced components or materials, or precision production equipment. They may be invisible to the consumer, yet without them the modern world literally would not exist. This sort of manufacturing, which is both highly capital-intensive and highly know-how-intensive, was virtually monopolized by the United States in the 1950s and 1960s and constituted the essence of American economic leadership.
Japan’s achievement is all the more impressive for the fact that its major competitors — Germany, South Korea, Taiwan and, of course, China — have hardly been standing still. The world has gone through a rapid industrial revolution in the last two decades thanks to the “targeting” of manufacturing by many East Asian nations. Yet Japan’s trade surpluses have risen.
Japan should be held up as a model, not an admonition. If a nation can summon the will to pull together, it can turn even the most unpromising circumstances to advantage. Here Japan’s constant upgrading of its infrastructure is surely an inspiration. It is a strategy that often requires cooperation across a wide political front, but such cooperation has not been beyond the American political system in the past. The Hoover Dam, that iconic project of the Depression, required negotiations among seven states but somehow it was built — and it provided jobs for 16,000 people in the process. Nothing is stopping similar progress now — nothing, except political bickering.