By Kevin D. Williamson
Thursday, December 03, 2020
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The year National Review was founded, 1955, was a
study in contrasts — and confrontations — between the free world and the unfree
world. The United States saw a series of new beginnings as Disneyland opened,
Ray Kroc launched the first McDonald’s, and cars with tail fins began crossing
the Tappan Zee Bridge. General Motors became the first business ever to turn a
$1 billion profit, and the FDA approved the Salk polio vaccine. Meanwhile, in
the Soviet Union, the government began a campaign of ethnic cleansing
(“repatriation”) of Poles. Communist hard-liners pushed out Imre Nagy in
Hungary. The Warsaw Pact was formed. And even in the free world, pockets of
authoritarian brutality remained: Spain and Portugal labored under
dictatorships, 60,000 black South Africans were evicted from a Johannesburg
suburb because of their race, and Emmett Till was lynched in Mississippi.
In the immediate post-war years, the future was up for
grabs.
To the extent that the years between the end of World War
II and today are a story of competing economic visions, the short version is
this: Karl Marx was wrong, and Milton Friedman was right. Market-oriented
reforms over the past several decades have cut severe poverty around the world
by more than half. As late as 1980, more than 40 percent of the world’s population
lived in severe poverty, according to World Bank figures. Now, that share is
less than 10 percent. There is simply nothing else in the history of the
material affairs of this world that can compare to that.
So, our hubris might have been understandable.
The partisans of capitalism believed for a generation —
not without some reason — that a free economy and a free society naturally must
go hand in hand. Instead, we have seen China develop a thoroughly modern
entrepreneur-driven economy while maintaining a vicious single-party police
state, while variations of the free-market model thrive in such relatively
closed societies as that of Singapore, under Arab monarchies, and under other
undemocratic or less-than-free arrangements. The hope that wider and deeper
international trade and economic integration — globalization, for lack
of a better word — would create pressure sufficient to achieve real-world
liberal-democratic reform has been dashed, and instead we have a grotesque
rebuke to those ideals in the form of Chinese engineers, working at VC-backed
firms, shopping for new Volkswagens alongside Chinese jailers working at
CCP-backed concentration camps.
So the optimism of the 20th-century capitalists has
proved unjustified to the extent that in many cases the (allegedly)
unstoppable force of the market has not so much as budged the immovable object
of autocracy. Put another way: The liberal democracies had assumed that a
rules-based international economic order would naturally evolve into an order
in which nations shared not only formal rules of exchange but also values. What
we are seeing now is that if there is to be a values-based order, it will have
to be pursued separately as an end in itself. The immediate problem is that the
pursuit of a values-based order is something that would most naturally be
undertaken by deepening and widening the cooperation of the world’s liberal
democracies — i.e., by the kind of formal, institutional, multilateral action
that has fallen into disrepute not only in the United States but among
nationalist-populist-minded elements everywhere from Venezuela to Switzerland.
And so we find ourselves in a paradox: The world is
richer and freer than it ever has been, and many of those at the top of the
heap, the rich world, are enraged about that state of affairs. Partly this has
to do with the local economic and social impacts of globalization, but mainly
it has to do with the disjunction between the social and political values of
the world’s biggest economic players: North America, the European Union, and
the ever-expanding Sinosphere.
That is why the first threat to the future of the free
economy that must be considered is populism. In the United States,
populism’s political energy is split between two warring tribes that are
forever at each other’s throats — the Donald Trump element and the Bernie
Sanders element, to (over)simplify things — but that have strikingly similar
policy agendas and assumptions when it comes to trade, immigration, the
regulation of large technology companies, entitlement programs, fiscal reform,
and much else. Together, these forces have deformed the thinking of both major
political parties, resulting in a U.S. retreat from international engagements
ranging from NATO to the Trans-Pacific Partnership. Much of this backlash has
been driven by the rise of China as a manufacturing power, a development that
has been ripe for demagoguery in spite of the fact that U.S. manufacturing
output continues to climb to new heights while none of the gold-plated populists
in Washington and on cable news aspires to have his own children one day labor
in a tire factory.
Populist economic proposals are by nature a disorganized
grab bag of rent-seeking and opportunism on the part of both politicians and
their domestic business clients, and range from the Trump administration’s
destructive tariffs on steel and aluminum (exported to the United States at low
prices by those dastardly Canadians), to Democratic proposals to use the tax
code and the federal bidding process to punish companies with overseas
operations, to the bipartisan rejection of the TPP, which cleared the way for a
new Beijing-dominated Asia-Pacific trade bloc.
The first wave of populist backlash has been driven by
dislocations associated with automation and the integration of global supply
chains and, to a lesser extent in the United States than in Europe, by
immigration, especially the immigration of refugees from the Middle East and
North Africa. That backlash is likely to be intensified as businesses incorporate
more-sophisticated artificial intelligence into their operations, which is
likely to wipe out jobs ranging from loan officer and stock analyst to
radiologist, positions in which AI in some cases already outperforms human
competitors. Where robotics and other forms of automation replaced the muscle
labor of factory workers, AI will undermine the previously comfortable position
of the educated and politically connected affluent professional classes.
We must at some point bring the federal books if not
quite into balance then closer to balance. The joint political clout of the
middle class and the affluent is already the main barrier to entitlement reform
and fiscal stabilization. The combination of sudden and acute employment
pressure on the professional classes with the eventual fiscal crises toward
which the United States is heading could produce very bad policies and very bad
economic outcomes, including increased protectionism, enforced Ludditism, and
inflation driven by the canard of “modern monetary theory.” The sooner we face
these challenges, the better — and the less likely the United States will slide
into economic illiberalism.
The second threat to the future of a free economy to
consider here is China — both China per se and Western (especially U.S.)
misunderstandings of the Chinese situation.
China is neither free nor democratic, but neither is it
the unitary CCP-run corporate state of the fearful American imagination, nor a
pseudo-capitalist economy of mechanical copycats and Potemkin workshops.
China’s economy is genuinely — indeed, viciously — entrepreneurial. The
failure of U.S.-based technology firms such as Google and Facebook in China has
less to do with Beijing’s protectionism (a real but secondary factor) than it
does with the inability or unwillingness of those firms to compete in the
Chinese market on Chinese terms — that is the analysis of Kai-Fu Lee, a
Microsoft and Apple veteran who also served as the president of Google China.
The idealistic, techno-utopian mentality of Silicon Valley has led to failure
after failure after failure in China. But this is not the first time this kind
of story has played out: Japan practices some mild protection of its automobile
market, but the main reason U.S. firms — unlike Mercedes, BMW, and Audi — have
failed to get much of a foothold there is that they spent decades trying to
sell Japanese buyers the kinds of cars they don’t want. And it wasn’t
protectionism that saved U.S. firms from Japanese competition in the 1980s and
1990s — it was the shift toward trucks and SUVs, a segment where U.S.
manufactures excel. Protectionism and regimentation weren’t the answer for Ford
vs. Japan, and they aren’t the answer for Google vs. China.
At the same time, China faces many of the same internal
challenges as its Western competitors: the possibility of sensitive firms’ and
industries’ failing in high-stakes global competition, workers made restive by
the insecurity of their positions, and a political class and associated
financial interests that are resistant to necessary reform. But unlike
Washington, Beijing is mostly unconstrained by institutions, by respect for
public opinion, or, indeed, by decency in its possible responses to economic
crisis. Its policy menu includes everything from invading neighboring countries
to imposing even more brutal repressive measures on its people than it already
does. China could as easily move in the direction of less economic freedom as
it could more economic freedom, and it could drag many of its allies and
trading partners, even the United States, in the same direction as they
conclude that the best way to compete with China is the way China learned to
compete with the West: imitation. They won’t copy Beijing’s prison camps or its
social-credit system (probably), but they will be tempted to lay a heavier
governmental hand on economic activity, protecting politically sensitive
businesses and industries even if that means artificially reducing the overall
standard of living, curtailing traditional economic rights, or violating the
rule of law. It is easy to imagine the kind of thinking behind, say, the
Export-Import Bank being applied systematically, especially as Beijing’s
footprint in areas such as international infrastructure financing grows larger.
And with the United States turning away from the pursuit
of international trade relationships, we must consider the fact that a highly
integrated, Beijing-led Asia-Pacific bloc is likely to be more successful
competing with or excluding the North Americans and the Europeans than vice
versa. American-style liberalism may out-compete “capitalism with Chinese
characteristics,” or it may not.
The third, related area of concern is the persistence of
“emergency” powers in the United States and abroad. The coronavirus epidemic
already has given rise to extraordinary measures — many of them necessary and
prudent but extraordinary nonetheless. And Washington under the Trump
administration already has flirted with the abuse of other emergency powers, as
in the president’s threat to simply order all U.S. firms to pull up stakes from
China with his supposed powers under the overly broad International Emergency
Economic Powers Act of 1977. Washington already has been in a state of pseudo
semi-crisis for most of a generation as regular order in Congress has been
supplanted by a series of last-minute continuing resolutions and budgetary
adhocracy. Democrats face pressure from the left to use climate change or other
pretexts to implement long-standing progressive economic priorities through
“emergency” fiat.
The coronavirus epidemic has too quickly accustomed
policy-makers from Washington to the local level to order businesses shuttered
or reorganized, and it has established precedents for lavish spending to pay
down the political consequences of such heavy-handedness. The Joe Biden
administration is likely to try to use the coronavirus epidemic as an excuse to
execute a very large wealth transfer from the nation at large to a handful of
Democrat-run fiefdoms with dangerously out-of-balance pension systems and
balance sheets. A few trillion dollars in capital would in that way be taken
out of the market and sunk into political boondoggles and bureaucratic pockets
rather than being made available for productive investment.
Emergencies are easy to get into. They are difficult to
get out of. And the needful things are easy for rich and complacent societies
to put off as their leaders enjoy the pleasures of a comfortable decadence.
The free modern economy has served us well for the better
part of a century. But its institutions require tending, its borders need
defending, and its natural cycles of exhaustion and parochialism need
counteracting. At the moment, neither the United States acting on its own nor
North America or the European Union acting collectively has the capacity or the
inclination to undertake that work single-handedly. The future of freedom will
require cooperative effort, and that effort will rest upon the willingness of
the peoples of the free world to undertake it.
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