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.

The 2019–20 fire season in Australia has been unprecedented. To date, an estimated 18 million hectares of fire has cut swathes through the bush – an area greater than that of the average European country and over five times the size of blazes in the Amazon.

This reflects previous predictions of Australian science. Since 2008 and as recently as 2018, scientific bodies have warned that climate change will exacerbate existing conditions for fires and other climatic disasters in Australia. What used to be once-in-a-generation fires now re-appear within 10–15 years with increased ferocity, over longer seasons.

In a country known for climate denial and division, debate has erupted around bushfire management and climate change. One of these is whether controlled burns are the answer to Australia’s climate-affected fire conditions.

There is no single risk reduction strategy. Controlled burning remains key, if adapted to the environment and climate. 

But when three out of four seasons in a year can support destructive bushfires, there are clear limits to what controlled burning and other fire management techniques can achieve. Other ‘adaptation’ measures are also likely to provoke intense debate – including bush clearance. As one Australian expert offered to highlight where Australia has got to, families should probably not go on holiday to bush and beach during the height of summer when temperatures and fire risk peaks. 

So, unless Australia is prepared to debate radical changes to where people live and how land is used, the limits to adaptation imply the need for mitigation. This means supporting ambitious global greenhouse emissions reductions targets. As research from Victoria, one fire-prone state in Australia, highlights, ‘the emissions pathway we follow is the largest determinant of change to many variables [such as temperature] beyond the next few decades.’

Can Australia become a more active global partner on emissions?

Australia accounts for just over one per cent of global emissions, so reducing domestic emissions – even though on a per capita basis they are the highest in the world – will not reduce Australia’s climate risk. Showing international leadership and supporting a powerful coalition of the willing to tackle climate change is the only way ahead. By showing a willingness to adopt climate ambition, Australia can help more constructive worldwide action, and thereby reduce its own risk exposure. 

Leading by example is a politically difficult issue for Australia. Prime Minister Scott Morrison was re-elected in May 2019 on an economic stability platform, and a promise not to imperil employment growth through climate action. Australia has contested UN estimates that it will not meet its existing modest goals for domestic emissions, by seeking to rely on carryover credits from action under the Kyoto Protocol as proof of progress.

It has also distanced itself from concerns over global supply and demand in fossil fuels. Australia remains a global supplier for fossil fuels, including coal – the nation’s coal exports accounted for $67 billion in revenues in 2019 in an expanding but changing Asian market, supplying ‘some of the cheapest electricity in the world’.

Possible influencers of change

With Australians experiencing first-hand the risks of climate change, there is already pressure to do more. Many are sceptical this will translate into domestic targets or export policies that give Australia the moral authority to ask for more action on the global stage.

Here, diverse groups who share a common interest in seeing Australia recover from the bushfires and address future climate risks could be key.

Importantly this includes rural and urban-fringe communities affected by the bushfires. They were part of Morrison’s traditional supporter-base but are angry at the government’s handling of the crisis and increasingly see how tiptoeing around emissions (including exports) has also ‘buried’ open discussion at home on climate-readiness.

Australian states could also find themselves taking a lead role. Virtually all jurisdictions have now committed to their own goals, most based on zero-carbon goals by 2050 (as has New Zealand). These can support modelling for Australia’s energy transition from coal, through gas, to market competitive renewables, while also help to ensure this reflects community expectations on jobs, electricity prices and other costs. 

Other emerging voices include the insurance and banking sectors (the Reserve Bank of Australia warned of the long-term financial stability risks of climate change before the fires) and indigenous Australians (one group of Torres Strait Islanders have filed a complaint to the UN Human Rights Committee which, if heard, will place Australia’s emissions record under the spotlight again). Their challenge now is finding a common language on what a cohesive approach to addressing climate change risk looks like. 

The international picture is mixed. The United States’ poor federal climate policy is a buffer for Australia. French President Emmanuel Macron has tried to raise the cost of inaction for Australia in current EU–Australia trade negotiations, but many large emitters in the Indo-Pacific region remain key Australian trading partners, investors and buyers of Australian coal. 

In the meantime, the United Kingdom is preparing for the meeting of parties to the Paris Agreement in Glasgow in November. A key global event following Brexit, the UK will no doubt be hoping to encourage a leadership circle with national commitments that meet global need to make the Glasgow meeting a success.

The UK public has expressed enormous sympathy for Australia in the bushfires and outrage over ‘climate denialism.’ Australia’s experience will be a cautionary tale of the effects of climate change at the meeting. Could the UK also support Australia to become a less reluctant partner in global climate action?

The 2019–20 fire season in Australia has been unprecedented. To date, an estimated 18 million hectares of fire has cut swathes through the bush – an area greater than that of the average European country and over five times the size of blazes in the Amazon.

This reflects previous predictions of Australian science. Since 2008 and as recently as 2018, scientific bodies have warned that climate change will exacerbate existing conditions for fires and other climatic disasters in Australia. What used to be once-in-a-generation fires now re-appear within 10–15 years with increased ferocity, over longer seasons.

In a country known for climate denial and division, debate has erupted around bushfire management and climate change. One of these is whether controlled burns are the answer to Australia’s climate-affected fire conditions.

There is no single risk reduction strategy. Controlled burning remains key, if adapted to the environment and climate. 

But when three out of four seasons in a year can support destructive bushfires, there are clear limits to what controlled burning and other fire management techniques can achieve. Other ‘adaptation’ measures are also likely to provoke intense debate – including bush clearance. As one Australian expert offered to highlight where Australia has got to, families should probably not go on holiday to bush and beach during the height of summer when temperatures and fire risk peaks. 

So, unless Australia is prepared to debate radical changes to where people live and how land is used, the limits to adaptation imply the need for mitigation. This means supporting ambitious global greenhouse emissions reductions targets. As research from Victoria, one fire-prone state in Australia, highlights, ‘the emissions pathway we follow is the largest determinant of change to many variables [such as temperature] beyond the next few decades.’

Can Australia become a more active global partner on emissions?

Australia accounts for just over one per cent of global emissions, so reducing domestic emissions – even though on a per capita basis they are the highest in the world – will not reduce Australia’s climate risk. Showing international leadership and supporting a powerful coalition of the willing to tackle climate change is the only way ahead. By showing a willingness to adopt climate ambition, Australia can help more constructive worldwide action, and thereby reduce its own risk exposure. 

Leading by example is a politically difficult issue for Australia. Prime Minister Scott Morrison was re-elected in May 2019 on an economic stability platform, and a promise not to imperil employment growth through climate action. Australia has contested UN estimates that it will not meet its existing modest goals for domestic emissions, by seeking to rely on carryover credits from action under the Kyoto Protocol as proof of progress.

It has also distanced itself from concerns over global supply and demand in fossil fuels. Australia remains a global supplier for fossil fuels, including coal – the nation’s coal exports accounted for $67 billion in revenues in 2019 in an expanding but changing Asian market, supplying ‘some of the cheapest electricity in the world’.

Possible influencers of change

With Australians experiencing first-hand the risks of climate change, there is already pressure to do more. Many are sceptical this will translate into domestic targets or export policies that give Australia the moral authority to ask for more action on the global stage.

Here, diverse groups who share a common interest in seeing Australia recover from the bushfires and address future climate risks could be key.

Importantly this includes rural and urban-fringe communities affected by the bushfires. They were part of Morrison’s traditional supporter-base but are angry at the government’s handling of the crisis and increasingly see how tiptoeing around emissions (including exports) has also ‘buried’ open discussion at home on climate-readiness.

Australian states could also find themselves taking a lead role. Virtually all jurisdictions have now committed to their own goals, most based on zero-carbon goals by 2050 (as has New Zealand). These can support modelling for Australia’s energy transition from coal, through gas, to market competitive renewables, while also help to ensure this reflects community expectations on jobs, electricity prices and other costs. 

Other emerging voices include the insurance and banking sectors (the Reserve Bank of Australia warned of the long-term financial stability risks of climate change before the fires) and indigenous Australians (one group of Torres Strait Islanders have filed a complaint to the UN Human Rights Committee which, if heard, will place Australia’s emissions record under the spotlight again). Their challenge now is finding a common language on what a cohesive approach to addressing climate change risk looks like. 

The international picture is mixed. The United States’ poor federal climate policy is a buffer for Australia. French President Emmanuel Macron has tried to raise the cost of inaction for Australia in current EU–Australia trade negotiations, but many large emitters in the Indo-Pacific region remain key Australian trading partners, investors and buyers of Australian coal. 

In the meantime, the United Kingdom is preparing for the meeting of parties to the Paris Agreement in Glasgow in November. A key global event following Brexit, the UK will no doubt be hoping to encourage a leadership circle with national commitments that meet global need to make the Glasgow meeting a success.

The UK public has expressed enormous sympathy for Australia in the bushfires and outrage over ‘climate denialism.’ Australia’s experience will be a cautionary tale of the effects of climate change at the meeting. Could the UK also support Australia to become a less reluctant partner in global climate action?

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.

The 2019–20 fire season in Australia has been unprecedented. To date, an estimated 18 million hectares of fire has cut swathes through the bush – an area greater than that of the average European country and over five times the size of blazes in the Amazon.

This reflects previous predictions of Australian science. Since 2008 and as recently as 2018, scientific bodies have warned that climate change will exacerbate existing conditions for fires and other climatic disasters in Australia. What used to be once-in-a-generation fires now re-appear within 10–15 years with increased ferocity, over longer seasons.

In a country known for climate denial and division, debate has erupted around bushfire management and climate change. One of these is whether controlled burns are the answer to Australia’s climate-affected fire conditions.

There is no single risk reduction strategy. Controlled burning remains key, if adapted to the environment and climate. 

But when three out of four seasons in a year can support destructive bushfires, there are clear limits to what controlled burning and other fire management techniques can achieve. Other ‘adaptation’ measures are also likely to provoke intense debate – including bush clearance. As one Australian expert offered to highlight where Australia has got to, families should probably not go on holiday to bush and beach during the height of summer when temperatures and fire risk peaks. 

So, unless Australia is prepared to debate radical changes to where people live and how land is used, the limits to adaptation imply the need for mitigation. This means supporting ambitious global greenhouse emissions reductions targets. As research from Victoria, one fire-prone state in Australia, highlights, ‘the emissions pathway we follow is the largest determinant of change to many variables [such as temperature] beyond the next few decades.’

Can Australia become a more active global partner on emissions?

Australia accounts for just over one per cent of global emissions, so reducing domestic emissions – even though on a per capita basis they are the highest in the world – will not reduce Australia’s climate risk. Showing international leadership and supporting a powerful coalition of the willing to tackle climate change is the only way ahead. By showing a willingness to adopt climate ambition, Australia can help more constructive worldwide action, and thereby reduce its own risk exposure. 

Leading by example is a politically difficult issue for Australia. Prime Minister Scott Morrison was re-elected in May 2019 on an economic stability platform, and a promise not to imperil employment growth through climate action. Australia has contested UN estimates that it will not meet its existing modest goals for domestic emissions, by seeking to rely on carryover credits from action under the Kyoto Protocol as proof of progress.

It has also distanced itself from concerns over global supply and demand in fossil fuels. Australia remains a global supplier for fossil fuels, including coal – the nation’s coal exports accounted for $67 billion in revenues in 2019 in an expanding but changing Asian market, supplying ‘some of the cheapest electricity in the world’.

Possible influencers of change

With Australians experiencing first-hand the risks of climate change, there is already pressure to do more. Many are sceptical this will translate into domestic targets or export policies that give Australia the moral authority to ask for more action on the global stage.

Here, diverse groups who share a common interest in seeing Australia recover from the bushfires and address future climate risks could be key.

Importantly this includes rural and urban-fringe communities affected by the bushfires. They were part of Morrison’s traditional supporter-base but are angry at the government’s handling of the crisis and increasingly see how tiptoeing around emissions (including exports) has also ‘buried’ open discussion at home on climate-readiness.

Australian states could also find themselves taking a lead role. Virtually all jurisdictions have now committed to their own goals, most based on zero-carbon goals by 2050 (as has New Zealand). These can support modelling for Australia’s energy transition from coal, through gas, to market competitive renewables, while also help to ensure this reflects community expectations on jobs, electricity prices and other costs. 

Other emerging voices include the insurance and banking sectors (the Reserve Bank of Australia warned of the long-term financial stability risks of climate change before the fires) and indigenous Australians (one group of Torres Strait Islanders have filed a complaint to the UN Human Rights Committee which, if heard, will place Australia’s emissions record under the spotlight again). Their challenge now is finding a common language on what a cohesive approach to addressing climate change risk looks like. 

The international picture is mixed. The United States’ poor federal climate policy is a buffer for Australia. French President Emmanuel Macron has tried to raise the cost of inaction for Australia in current EU–Australia trade negotiations, but many large emitters in the Indo-Pacific region remain key Australian trading partners, investors and buyers of Australian coal. 

In the meantime, the United Kingdom is preparing for the meeting of parties to the Paris Agreement in Glasgow in November. A key global event following Brexit, the UK will no doubt be hoping to encourage a leadership circle with national commitments that meet global need to make the Glasgow meeting a success.

The UK public has expressed enormous sympathy for Australia in the bushfires and outrage over ‘climate denialism.’ Australia’s experience will be a cautionary tale of the effects of climate change at the meeting. Could the UK also support Australia to become a less reluctant partner in global climate action?