The renminbi seems to be back in business as a Chinese tool of retaliation against US tariffs. A 1.5 per cent fall in the currency early this month in response to proposed new US tariffs was only a start. Since the middle of August the renminbi has weakened further, and the exchange rate is now 4 per cent weaker than at the start of the month. We may well see more of a ‘weaponized’ renminbi, but there are four good reasons why Beijing might be wise to think before shooting.

The first has to do with how China seeks to promote its place in the world. China has been at pains to manage the collapse of its relations with the US in a way that allows it to present itself as an alternative pillar of global order, and as a source of stability in the international system, not to mention moral authority. This has deep roots.

Anyone investigating the history of Chinese statecraft will quickly come across an enduring distinction in Chinese thought: between wang dao, the kingly, or righteous way, and ba dao, the way of the hegemon. Since Chinese thinkers and officials routinely describe US behaviour since the Second World War as hegemonic, it behoves Chinese policymakers to do as much as possible to stay on moral high-ground in their behaviour towards Washington. Only in that way would President Xi be able properly to assert China’s claim to leadership.

Indeed, China has a notable track record of using exchange rate stability to enhance its reputation as a force for global stability. Both in the aftermath of the Asian crisis in 1997, and of the Global Financial Crisis in 2008, Chinese exchange rate stability was offered as a way of demonstrating China’s trustworthiness and its commitment to multilateral order.

Devaluing the renminbi in a meaningful way now might have a different rationale, but the cost to China’s claim to virtue, and its bid to offer itself as a guardian of global stability, might be considerable.

That’s particularly true because of the second problem China has in thinking about a weaker renminbi: it may not be all that effective in sustaining Chinese trade. One reason for this is the increasing co-movement with the renminbi of currencies in countries with whom China competes.

As the renminbi changes against the dollar, so do the Taiwan dollar, the Korean won, the Singapore dollar and the Indian rupee. In addition, the short-run impact of a weaker renminbi is more likely to curb imports than to expand exports, and so its effects might be contractionary. 

An ineffective devaluation of the renminbi would be particularly useless because of the third risk China needs to consider, namely the risk of retaliation by the US administration. Of this there is already plenty of evidence, of course.

The US Treasury’s declaration of China as a ‘currency manipulator’ on 5 August bears little relationship to the actual formal criteria that the Treasury uses to define that term, but equally the US had warned the Chinese back in May that these criteria don’t bind its hand. By abandoning a rules-based approach to the definition of currency manipulation, the US has opened wide the door to further antagonism, and Beijing should have no doubt that Washington will walk through that door if it wants to.

The fourth, and possibly most self-destructive, risk that China has to consider is that a weaker renminbi might destabilize China’s capital account, fuelling capital outflows that would leave China’s policymakers feeling very uncomfortable.

Indeed, there is already evidence that Chinese residents feel less confident that the renminbi is a reliable store of value, now that there is no longer a sense that the currency is destined to appreciate against the dollar. The best illustration of this comes from the ‘errors and omissions’, or unaccounted-for outflows, in China’s balance of payments.

The past few years have seen these outflows rise a lot, averaging some $200 billion per year during the past four calendar years, or almost 2 per cent GDP; and around $90 billion in the first three months of 2019 alone. These are scarily large numbers.

The risk here is that Chinese expectations about the renminbi are ‘adaptive’: the more the exchange rate weakens, the more Chinese residents expect it to weaken, and so the demand for dollars goes up. In principle, the only way to deal with this risk would be for the People's Bank of China (PBOC) to implement a large, one-off devaluation of the renminbi to a level at which dollars are expensive enough that no one wants to buy them anymore.

This would be very dangerous, though: it presupposes that the PBOC could know in advance the ‘equilibrium’ value of the renminbi. It would take an unusually brave central banker to claim such foresight, especially since that equilibrium value could itself be altered by the mere fact of such a dramatic change in policy.

No one really knows precisely by what mechanism capital outflows from China have accelerated in recent years, but a very good candidate is tourism. The expenditure of outbound Chinese tourists abroad has risen a lot in recent years, and that increase very closely mirrors the rise in ‘errors and omissions’. So the suspicion must be that the increasing flow of Chinese tourists – nearly one half of whom last year simply travelled to capital-controls-free Hong Kong and Macao – is just creating opportunities for unrecorded capital flight.

This raises a disturbing possibility: that the most effective way for China to devalue the renminbi without the backfire of capital outflows would be simultaneously to stem the outflow of Chinese tourists. China has form in this regard, albeit for differing reasons: this month it suspended a programme that allowed individual tourists from 47 Chinese cities to travel to Taiwan.

A more global restriction on Chinese tourism might make a devaluation of the renminbi ‘safer’, and it would have the collateral benefit of helping to increase China’s current account surplus, the evaporation of which in recent years owes a lot to rising tourism expenditure and which is almost certainly a source of unhappiness in Beijing, where mercantilism remains popular.

But a world where China could impose such draconian measures would be one where nationalism has reached heights we haven’t yet seen. Let’s hope we don’t go there.

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.

Given the international context, it is in Britain’s best interests to treat Europe as the ‘inner circle’ of its foreign, security and international economic policy, argues Dr Robin Niblett, director of Chatham House, in a new paper.

The British government’s approach since 2010 of seeking to enhance the UK's relations with the world’s emerging powers while balancing these with relationships with the United States and Europe has had only limited success. With constrained resources, and in the face of intense global economic competition, mounting security challenges and decaying international institutions, trying to commit the UK equally on all three fronts will not succeed in the future.

Britain, Europe and the World: Rethinking the UK’s Circles of Influence calls for a different mindset and strategy towards the UK’s place in the world – one in which Britain is surrounded by three concentric circles of influence:

• The first or ‘inner circle’ is the EU, the region with which the UK’s relationships need to be strongest and most active.
• The ‘second circle’ consists of the protective and enabling set of economic and security relationships with the US.
• Finally, an ‘outer circle’ comprises the UK’s other key bilateral and institutional relationships.

Should the UK vote to remain in the EU, policy-makers should commit to placing the EU at the centre of Britain's foreign policy, using the country’s economic weight, diplomatic skills and networks to play a leading role in leveraging more effective EU-wide policies.
 
Should the country vote to leave, the UK and the EU would enter an extended period of dislocation before arriving at a new, mutually diminished settlement. British policy-makers would be forced to deal and negotiate with the EU on critical policy issues from the outside. It is hard to see, argues Dr Niblett, how that could lead to EU policies or an international context more in line with British interests.                          

Despite its structural flaws and competing national interests, the EU offers the best prospects for managing the rapidly changing global context, for three main reasons:

First, it allows the UK to leverage the EU’s global economic weight to enhance the UK’s economic interests internationally, including securing beneficial trade agreements and contributing to EU and global standard-setting and rule-writing. Conversely, leaving would require the UK to renegotiate over 100 trade agreements, and would disadvantage UK interests in EU markets, including making EU governments less likely to liberalize services.                          

Second, it gives the UK a say in designing new EU initiatives to strengthen both British and European security in the face of diverse threats, whether managing the flow of refugees and other emigrants; combatting terrorism; or managing a more assertive Russia and the fallout from a disintegrating Middle East.                          

Third, cooperating with other EU members offers a way of maximizing opportunities to find joint solutions to shared problems, whether in terms of responding to climate change; managing growing cyber insecurity; reversing the decay of governance in failing states; or combating the rise of dangerous non-state actors.

Dr Robin Niblett said:

‘Britain is likely to be richer, safer and more influential in the coming decades if it treats Europe as the ‘inner circle’ of its foreign policy. For a mid-sized country like the UK, being a major player in a strong regional institution can offer a critical lever for international influence. In the UK’s case, this means choosing to be a leading player in the world’s principal civilian power, the European Union.’

Even though President Barack Obama cautioned that the UK would be at the ‘back of the queue’ for a trade agreement with the US if the country chose to leave the EU, in the post-Brexit world a deal might be struck more swiftly. Various ideas for bringing the UK and US into a formal trade arrangement have been floated – ranging from a bilateral UK-US trade deal, or the UK joining NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement between the US, Canada and Mexico), to the UK becoming a part of the TPP (the Trans-Pacific Partnership that the US is pursuing with 11 other countries along the Pacific Rim). However, one option stands out: opening the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP), which the US and EU are currently negotiating, to the UK after Brexit.

Good reasons for Britain in TTIP

First, from the perspective of the UK, signing up to TTIP would mean a more comprehensive deal with the US than a bilateral UK−US trade agreement. For instance, Britain is very keen to include financial services regulation in any trade agreement with America, but given Washington’s reluctance, this ambition might only be achievable if other countries like France and Germany throw their financial weight into the negotiations.

Second, continuing involvement in the TTIP negotiations allows London to begin securing its trade position with the US now. Though its influence in the EU may weaken as it heads for the exit, Britain could make the best use of influencing the EU position on TTIP while it is still a member. It could then accept the terms of TTIP and accede as a third party relatively quickly after exiting the EU. Official negotiations on a UK−US-only deal would have to wait until the UK has left the EU, as trade talks fall under the exclusive competence of the EU.

Third, for the US and EU, having the UK as a party to TTIP would ensure the scale of the deal is not reduced, and thereby maintain the strategic appeal and ability to set global standards. At the moment, the UK is the EU’s second-largest economy, accounting for approximately 18 per cent of GDP. With Britain in TTIP, the sheer size of the transatlantic market space will have more pull for other countries to adopt the common transatlantic rules in order to gain market access.

Fourth, the UK joining TTIP as a third party would establish the agreement as an ‘open platform’ that is available for other countries to join. Michael Froman, the United States trade representative, has characterized TTIP as being such an open agreement. EU representatives have been more ambivalent, though this is starting to change in the wake of Brexit. David O’Sullivan, the current EU ambassador to the US, recently said that as ‘we’ve always seen TTIP as a potential open platform, [the] UK could still benefit [from it] even not as a member of the European Union’. While now might not be the right time to expand the TTIP bloc beyond its original participants given that negotiations are already complex and drawn out, it would be beneficial for the negotiating partners to send a strong message that countries that are willing and able to commit to the high TTIP standards will be welcomed later on.

Obstacles to Britain in TTIP

But before the UK could be added to TTIP after Brexit, major hurdles will have to be jumped and crucial questions answered. The first obstacle is actually getting a TTIP deal, which will require significant efforts by political leaders and negotiators on both sides of the Atlantic.

Second, selling the ‘UK in TTIP option’ to Brexiteers will not be an easy task. After all, Leave campaigners argued that the US−EU deal might undermine the NHS and was thus presented as one of the reasons to cut loose from Brussels. As the major rationale behind TTIP is regulatory harmonization, if the UK were to sign up to TTIP it would still have to apply many EU rules. This, however, would go counter to the arguments for leaving the EU in the first place.

Third, it will be a challenging job for the UK to untangle its trade relationship with the EU while at the same time negotiating TTIP together with the EU. It would be easiest if the UK decided to remain a member of the EU customs union. Britain would then be required to impose the EU’s external tariffs on countries like the US. This would fit seamlessly with the ‘UK in TTIP’ option. But as the UK will most likely pull out of the customs union, it will be more complicated than that.

Finally, the timing of Brexit and the TTIP negotiations could cause complications. In the unlikely event that a US-EU free trade deal is concluded and ratified while the UK is still a member of the EU, the agreement (or the parts of it that fall under national competence) would most likely continue to apply to Britain after Brexit without the need for accession. If the TTIP negotiations continue beyond Brexit, then the UK would move from negotiating as part of the EU bloc to becoming a third party. This raises the issue of whether the UK and EU continue to negotiate as one bloc vis-à-vis the US.

Special economic relationship

Still, the depth of the economic ties between the US and UK means that the TTIP option is likely to be welcomed favourably by both countries. The US is the most important single export market for the UK, with goods and services worth £45 billion shipped in 2015. Last year, the US ranked third (after Germany and China) as a source for UK imports. With nearly $1 trillion invested in each other’s economies, the US and the UK are also each other’s largest investors. Given this special economic relationship, Britain is unlikely to be at the ‘back of the queue’ in any event. But the TTIP option is the best path to preserving and strengthening the relationship post-Brexit while also realizing the wider strategic benefits of a transatlantic trade agreement.

A version of this article appeared on Real Clear World.

To comment on this article, please contact Chatham House Feedback

Is the news our society’s religion today?

In the developed economies, the news now occupies a position of power at least equal to that formerly enjoyed by the faiths. Matins has been transubstantiated into the breakfast bulletin, vespers into the evening report. It also demands that we approach it with some of the same deferential expectations we would once have harboured for the faiths. Here, too, we hope to receive revelations, learn who is good and bad, fathom suffering and understand the unfolding logic of existence. And here too, if we refuse to take part in the rituals, there could be imputations of heresy.

What would you like the news to be?

It feels like there is always an infinite amount of news, so much is happening in the world every day. Yet after a while it becomes clear that the same kinds of event are recurring again and again. The details change, but all circle round the same archetypal story. Men in highly responsible positions are coming unstuck because their desires lead them to do things that, when made public, are shameful.

Identifying the underlying theme is more important in the long run than going through the details of every case. The news that matters is not so much that this MP or banker did what they did. What we need to address is why such things happen.

How do you keep the public interested in the news that does matter?

We cannot be collectively dragged into being more responsible through guilt. The Arctic ice is melting and this is going to have major, lasting implications for sea levels and weather around the world. A few people care a lot but, strangely, Taylor Swift’s legs are far more captivating. The starting point has to be indulgence towards the way our minds work. We are interested in Swift’s legs not because we are evil – but because we are wired in unhelpful ways. If we are going to be interested en masse in the defrosting poles, we need to take our fragilities on board and therefore get serious about trying to make important news not just ‘important’, but also beguiling. Then things stand a chance of changing.

You argue that we should set aside ‘neutral reporting’. Are you asking for more bias?

Many people imagine that what makes news organizations serious is their ability to provide us with information that is ‘unbiased’. But facts can only become meaningful and relevant to us when they slot into some picture of important or trivial, right or wrong. News organizations that vaunt their neutrality forget that neutrality is simply impossible. There is no risk-free, all-knowing sober set of answers to cling to. At heart, the word ‘bias’ simply alludes to the business of having a ‘take’ on existence. One may have a better or worse take, but one can’t make any sense of the flotsam of daily events in the news without having one. All of the figures we revere in history have been highly biased: each of them had a strong sense of what mattered and why, and their judgments were anything but perfectly balanced. They were just flavoured in the right way. We don’t need news stripped of bias, we need news presented to us with the best kinds of bias.

What is the purpose of foreign reporting?

Foreign reporting implicitly defers to the priorities of the state and of business, occupying itself almost exclusively with whom and where we should fight, trade or sympathize. But it should instead offer us a means by which to humanize the Other who instinctively repels, bores or frightens us and with whom we can’t, without help, imagine having anything in common.

Foreign countries also furnish a scale against which our own nation and ways of living can be assessed; they may help us to see our national oddities, blind spots and strengths. Stories from them may lead us to a fresh appreciation of the imperfect freedoms and comparative abundance of our homelands, which otherwise would be treated only as matters for grumbling or blame. Alternatively, problems with which we are all too familiar may be revealed to have been solved better elsewhere.

You mention the importance of historical perspective in reporting, so that we can respond to issues with context.

Contrary to what the news usually suggests, hardly anything is ever totally new, few things are truly amazing and very little is absolutely terrible. The economic indices are grim, but we have weathered comparable drops many times over the past century and even the worst scenarios only predict that we will return to a standard of living we had a few decades ago. A bad avian flu may disrupt international travel and defeat known drugs for a while, but research will eventually understand and contain it. The floods look dramatic, but in the end, they will affect merely a fraction of the population and recede soon.

How can photography change the way we report news?

There are now more images than ever before in the coverage we consume, but the problem lies in the lack of ambition behind their production and display. We might usefully divide news photographs into two genres. The first are images of corroboration, which do little other than confirm something we have learnt about a person or an event through an accompanying article. The second is a rarer kind of image, the photograph of revelation, whose ambition is not simply to back up what the text tells us but to advance our level of knowledge to a new point. It sets out to challenge cliché. We have lost any sense of photography’s potential as an information-bearing medium, as a force to properly introduce us to a planet that we keep conceitedly assuming that we know rather well already.

Do you feel oppressed by the news?

The pressure of not missing out makes one feel one has to care about a given topic, even when one doesn’t want to. Take Mandela’s funeral. One was supposed to care a lot, and yet, you don’t. You know the reasons why it is important, but they don’t grip you because you are focused elsewhere on subjects that, while tiny in the grand scheme of things, matter a lot within your context. It would be dangerous if hardly anyone paid attention to what the Government was doing, or what was happening to the environment. But it is not right to go from this to the demand that everyone should be interested in every item whenever the news machine calls. We badly need people whose attention is not caught up in the trends of the moment and who are not looking in the same direction as everyone else. We need people scanning the less familiar parts of the horizon.

Do you think we get the news we deserve?

Much of what we now take for granted as news has its origins in the information needed by those people taking major decisions or who are at the centre of national affairs. Ease of communication and a generous democratic impulse means that selections from the knowledge base, originally designed for decision-makers, now gets routinely sent via the media to very large numbers of people. It is as if a dossier which might properly arrive upon the desk of a Minister has accidentally been delivered to the wrong address and ends up on the breakfast table of an electrician in Pitlochry. Every day the news gives us stuff that is both interesting for some people and irrelevant to you. No wonder we’re sometimes a bit bored. It’s not our fault.

The renminbi seems to be back in business as a Chinese tool of retaliation against US tariffs. A 1.5 per cent fall in the currency early this month in response to proposed new US tariffs was only a start. Since the middle of August the renminbi has weakened further, and the exchange rate is now 4 per cent weaker than at the start of the month. We may well see more of a ‘weaponized’ renminbi, but there are four good reasons why Beijing might be wise to think before shooting.

The first has to do with how China seeks to promote its place in the world. China has been at pains to manage the collapse of its relations with the US in a way that allows it to present itself as an alternative pillar of global order, and as a source of stability in the international system, not to mention moral authority. This has deep roots.

Anyone investigating the history of Chinese statecraft will quickly come across an enduring distinction in Chinese thought: between wang dao, the kingly, or righteous way, and ba dao, the way of the hegemon. Since Chinese thinkers and officials routinely describe US behaviour since the Second World War as hegemonic, it behoves Chinese policymakers to do as much as possible to stay on moral high-ground in their behaviour towards Washington. Only in that way would President Xi be able properly to assert China’s claim to leadership.

Indeed, China has a notable track record of using exchange rate stability to enhance its reputation as a force for global stability. Both in the aftermath of the Asian crisis in 1997, and of the Global Financial Crisis in 2008, Chinese exchange rate stability was offered as a way of demonstrating China’s trustworthiness and its commitment to multilateral order.

Devaluing the renminbi in a meaningful way now might have a different rationale, but the cost to China’s claim to virtue, and its bid to offer itself as a guardian of global stability, might be considerable.

That’s particularly true because of the second problem China has in thinking about a weaker renminbi: it may not be all that effective in sustaining Chinese trade. One reason for this is the increasing co-movement with the renminbi of currencies in countries with whom China competes.

As the renminbi changes against the dollar, so do the Taiwan dollar, the Korean won, the Singapore dollar and the Indian rupee. In addition, the short-run impact of a weaker renminbi is more likely to curb imports than to expand exports, and so its effects might be contractionary. 

An ineffective devaluation of the renminbi would be particularly useless because of the third risk China needs to consider, namely the risk of retaliation by the US administration. Of this there is already plenty of evidence, of course.

The US Treasury’s declaration of China as a ‘currency manipulator’ on 5 August bears little relationship to the actual formal criteria that the Treasury uses to define that term, but equally the US had warned the Chinese back in May that these criteria don’t bind its hand. By abandoning a rules-based approach to the definition of currency manipulation, the US has opened wide the door to further antagonism, and Beijing should have no doubt that Washington will walk through that door if it wants to.

The fourth, and possibly most self-destructive, risk that China has to consider is that a weaker renminbi might destabilize China’s capital account, fuelling capital outflows that would leave China’s policymakers feeling very uncomfortable.

Indeed, there is already evidence that Chinese residents feel less confident that the renminbi is a reliable store of value, now that there is no longer a sense that the currency is destined to appreciate against the dollar. The best illustration of this comes from the ‘errors and omissions’, or unaccounted-for outflows, in China’s balance of payments.

The past few years have seen these outflows rise a lot, averaging some $200 billion per year during the past four calendar years, or almost 2 per cent GDP; and around $90 billion in the first three months of 2019 alone. These are scarily large numbers.

The risk here is that Chinese expectations about the renminbi are ‘adaptive’: the more the exchange rate weakens, the more Chinese residents expect it to weaken, and so the demand for dollars goes up. In principle, the only way to deal with this risk would be for the People's Bank of China (PBOC) to implement a large, one-off devaluation of the renminbi to a level at which dollars are expensive enough that no one wants to buy them anymore.

This would be very dangerous, though: it presupposes that the PBOC could know in advance the ‘equilibrium’ value of the renminbi. It would take an unusually brave central banker to claim such foresight, especially since that equilibrium value could itself be altered by the mere fact of such a dramatic change in policy.

No one really knows precisely by what mechanism capital outflows from China have accelerated in recent years, but a very good candidate is tourism. The expenditure of outbound Chinese tourists abroad has risen a lot in recent years, and that increase very closely mirrors the rise in ‘errors and omissions’. So the suspicion must be that the increasing flow of Chinese tourists – nearly one half of whom last year simply travelled to capital-controls-free Hong Kong and Macao – is just creating opportunities for unrecorded capital flight.

This raises a disturbing possibility: that the most effective way for China to devalue the renminbi without the backfire of capital outflows would be simultaneously to stem the outflow of Chinese tourists. China has form in this regard, albeit for differing reasons: this month it suspended a programme that allowed individual tourists from 47 Chinese cities to travel to Taiwan.

A more global restriction on Chinese tourism might make a devaluation of the renminbi ‘safer’, and it would have the collateral benefit of helping to increase China’s current account surplus, the evaporation of which in recent years owes a lot to rising tourism expenditure and which is almost certainly a source of unhappiness in Beijing, where mercantilism remains popular.

But a world where China could impose such draconian measures would be one where nationalism has reached heights we haven’t yet seen. Let’s hope we don’t go there.

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.