It is nearly 30 years since Rudiger Dornbusch and Sebastian Edwards published a seminal book, The Macroeconomics of Populism. Their conclusion back then was that the economic policies of populist leaders were quintessentially irresponsible. These governments, blinded by an aim to address perceived social injustices, specialised in profligacy, unbothered by budget constraints or whether they might run out of foreign exchange.

Because of this disregard for basic economic logic, their policy experiments inevitably ended badly, with some combination of inflation, capital flight, recession and default. Salvador Allende’s Chile in the 1970s, or Alan García’s Peru in the 1980s, capture this story perfectly.

These days, the macroeconomics of populism looks different. Of course there are populist leaders out there whose policies follow, more or less, the playbook of the 1970s and 1980s. Donald Trump may prove to be one of those, with a late-cycle fiscal expansion that seemed to have no basis in economic reasoning; Recep Tayyip Erdogan, by some accounts, may be another.

But a much more interesting phenomenon is the apparent surge in populist leaders whose economic policies are remarkably disciplined.

Take Mexico’s president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. When it comes to fiscal policy, it is odd indeed that this fiery critic of neoliberalism seems fully committed to austerity. His budget for 2019 targets a surplus before interest payments of 1 per cent of GDP, and on current plans he intends to increase that surplus next year to 1.3 per cent of GDP. He has upheld the autonomy of the central bank and, so far at least, his overall macroeconomic framework is anything but revolutionary.

Hungary’s prime minister Viktor Orban offers another example of conservative populism. Under his watch, budget deficits have been considerably lower than they had been previously, helping to push the stock of public debt down from 74 per cent of GDP in 2010, the year Orban took over, to 68 per cent last year.

This emphasis on the virtues of fiscal prudence is also visible in Poland, where Jaroslaw Kaczynski’s PiS has managed public finances with sufficient discipline in the past few years to push the debt/GDP ratio below 50 per cent last year, the first time this has happened since 2009.

The obvious question is: what has changed in the decades since Dornbusch and Edwards went into print?

One answer is that today’s populists tend to strive for national self-reliance, which encourages them to avoid building up any dependence on foreign capital. And since that goal is achieved by keeping a tight rein on macro policy, fiscal indiscipline is avoided in order to limit vulnerability to foreign influences.

Perhaps this is because the 'them', or the perceived enemy, for many of today’s populists tends to be outside the country rather than inside. Broadly speaking, it is the forces of globalisation — and global capital in particular — that are the problem for these leaders, and self-reliance is the only way to keep those forces at arm’s length. This helps to explain why, for example, Orban has been so keen to repay debt to Hungary’s external creditors. He has relied instead on selling bonds to Hungarian households to finance his deficits, even though the interest rates on those bonds are much higher than he would pay to foreign creditors. It also helps explain why the PiS in Poland has presided over a decline in foreign holdings of its domestic bonds. Foreign investors owned 40 per cent of Poland’s domestic government debt back in 2015, but only 26 per cent now.

In other words, among many of today’s populists there is a blurring of the distinction between populism and nationalism. And the nationalistic urge to keep the rest of the world off your back seems to dominate the populist urge to spend money. The perfect example of that instinct is Vladimir Putin: not necessarily a populist, but his administration has been emphatic about the need to keep public spending low and to build solid financial buffers. National self-reliance is an economic obsession for the Russian government, and provides a model for other countries who wish to insulate themselves from international finance.

One of the reasons why the macroeconomics of populism have changed in this way is the historical legacy of economic disaster. If you are a populist leader in a country where financial crisis is part of living memory — as it is in Mexico, Hungary and Russia, say — you might do well to err on the side of conservatism for fear of repeating the mistakes of your predecessors.

But another reason why populism looks different for countries like Poland, Hungary, Mexico and Russia has to do with mere luck. Hungary and Poland, in particular, enjoy the luck of geography: having been absorbed into the EU, they have received financial transfers from Brussels averaging some 3-4 per cent of GDP in the past few years, so that populism in these countries has been solidly underpinned by the terms of their EU membership. López Obrador is enjoying the inheritance of his predecessor’s sound macro policy, together with a buoyant US economy and low US interest rates. Russia has had the good fortune of oil exports to rely on.

The thing about luck is that it can run out. So maybe it’s not quite time yet to bury the old macroeconomics of populism. But for the time being, it seems true to say that many of today’s populists have an unexpectedly robust sense of economic discipline.

This article was originally published in the Financial Times.

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.

Currently 73% of all UK agricultural imports come from the EU. That heavy dependence sparked a report by the British parliament expressing concern about the UK’s food security in the immediate aftermath of Brexit.

Meanwhile, Latin America’s agricultural powerhouses Brazil and Argentina only accounted for a total of 1.6% of the UK’s agricultural market across eight sectors in 2018. A growing relationship would seem to be an obvious fit post-Brexit – but a number of structural issues stand in the way.

There is certainly scope for increasing Latin American agricultural exports to the UK given current trade patterns. Two of the main agricultural imports that the UK buys from the EU are meat products, representing 82% of UK imports in that category, and dairy products and eggs; 98% of UK’s dairy- and egg-related external supply came from the EU. In both these areas, Brazil and Argentina could have comparative advantages, including lower prices.

But any improvement in agricultural trade links will depend on two factors: 1) how the UK leaves the EU: whether it crashes out, negotiates an easy exit or leaves at all; and 2) whether Latin American agricultural producers can improve their environmental practices and can meet the production standards established by the EU and likely maintained by a post-Brexit Britain.

Some of the key issues that will affect this are:

Tariff structures

On the UK side, there is pressure by domestic agricultural producers to raise UK tariffs to allow them to expand their local market share. Yet, despite the pressures from local farmers, the UK has laid out two scenarios.

In one case, the UK government has stated that in the event of a no-deal Brexit, tariffs will be lowered to 0%, but there is no firm commitment and this would likely be temporary. It is also unlikely that those would apply to all agricultural products. In the case of beef imports (of which Argentina and Brazil are major exporters), the UK has proposed that ‘no deal’ would bring a reduction on tariffs on a range of beef products of roughly half.

Meanwhile, tariffs on EU imports could go up. Even if the UK establishes 0% tariffs on EU products, it’s possible that the EU will not reciprocate, instead choosing to revert to the World Trade Organization’s most-favoured-nation tariffs. To take one example of what that would mean, under existing most-favoured-nation tariffs on beef, the tariffs range from €6.80 per 100 kilograms of full bovine carcasses or half carcasses all the way up to €161.10 for 160 kilograms of prepared or preserved meat, including sausages.

Free trade agreements between the EU and Latin American countries

The EU has free trade agreements with the Central American bloc of Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua and Panama; Mexico; Chile; and the Andean countries of Colombia, Ecuador, and Peru. In all those cases, the UK has expressed its desire to maintain its liberal trade framework with those countries.

Even if the UK leaves without a deal and tariffs do increase on EU agricultural exports, though, these Western Hemisphere economies are unlikely to see a large boost in their food exports to the UK. Chile and other large fruit producers are already locked into the Chinese market. And the real agricultural powerhouses, Argentina and Brazil, are now part of the EU trade agreement with Mercosur.

Since that agreement is not yet in force, the UK and Mercosur would need to negotiate a separate agreement. Such an agreement may be easier to ratify than the EU agreement since there is only one partner (the UK) for such a deal, but the likely change in government in Argentina after the 27 October elections may make it difficult to secure a deal on the Mercosur side.

Some EU trade agreements also include arrangements for tariff rate quotas. An EU quota with Argentina, for example, allows more than 280,000 tonnes of lamb to be imported to the EU duty free from Argentina, among other countries. It is unclear whether these quotas will be maintained or even expanded by the UK post-Brexit.  

Phytosanitary standards and rules governing the treatment of animals

Non-tariff barriers concerning production practices could play a key role. The large UK consumer organization Which? raised the concern before parliament that in the scramble to replace EU food imports, the UK could diverge from EU standards on animal cloning, the use of growth hormones and hygiene in poultry production. Pressure to maintain those standards would likely exclude many products from South America.

Beyond the regulatory barriers, there is also the possibility that UK consumers may reject agricultural products produced in less sustainable and humane conditions, or in countries (such as Brazil) that are seen by the public as abusing the environment.

In short, an increase in Latin American agricultural exports to the UK market may not happen as easily or as quickly as some hope after Brexit. In fact, it may not happen at all. But if Latin American countries – Argentina and Brazil in particular – want to capture this potential new market, the first step both should be to improve their environmental profile and standards at both the government and producer level.

This article argues that practices of global finance provide a rich opportunity to consider gender's embodiment in everyday, but highly regulatory, financial life. Tracing a pathway through the rise of the ‘diversity agenda’ in global finance in the wake of the global financial crisis, the article asks how ‘diversity’ has shaped the global financial services industry, and whether it has challenged the reproduction of gendered power in global finance. Recent, innovative feminist political economy work has laid out a clear challenge to researchers of the global political economy to explore how everyday practices have become significant sites of gendered, regulatory power, and this article takes up this challenge, analysing how the rise of ‘diversity’ in financial services reveals the crucial intersections of gendered power and everyday economic practices. Using a conceptual framework drawn explicitly from Marysia Zalewski's work, this article advances critical inquiry into how gender has become an often unacknowledged way of writing the world of global finance, in ongoing, and problematic, ways. It proposes that the practices and futures of the diversity agenda in global finance provide a window into the persistent failure of global finance to reconfigure its foundational masculinism, and asks that financial actors begin to take seriously the foundational, gendered myths on which global finance has been built.

The entry into force of the African Continental Free Trade Area (AfCFTA) on 30 May, after only three years of negotiations, is an economic, political and diplomatic milestone for the African Union (AU) and its member states, crucial for economic growth, job creation, and making Africa a meaningful player in international trade. But the continent will have to work together to ensure that the potential benefits are fully realized.

A necessary innovation

With its advances in maintaining peace and security, abundant natural resources, high growth rates, improved linkages to global supply chains and a youthful population, Africa is emerging as a new global centre of economic growth, increasingly sought after as a partner by the world’s biggest economies. Governments from across Africa have been taking a more assertive role in international markets, including through proactive diversification of trading partners, and the continent remains a strong advocate for the multilateral trading system.

However, this is not yet reflected in outcomes. The African Union does not have observer status at the World Trade Organization, despite diplomatic efforts in the past decade. Africa has less than a three per cent share of global trade, and the growing trend towards protectionism across the global economy may only increase the vulnerability of a disunited Africa. Its fractured internal market means that trade within Africa is lower than for any other region on the globe, with intra-African trade just 18 per cent of overall exports, as compared to 70 per cent in Europe.

The AfCFTA is the continent’s tool to address the disparity between Africa’s growing economic significance and its peripheral place in the global trade system, to build a bridge between present fragmentation and future prosperity. It is an ambitious, comprehensive agreement covering trade in goods, services, investment, intellectual property rights and competition policy. It has been signed by all of Africa’s states with the exception of Eritrea.

It is the AU's Agenda 2063 flagship project, brought about by the decisions taken at the January 2012 African Union Summit to boost intra-African trade and to fast track the establishment of the Continental Free Trade Area. It builds upon ambitions enshrined in successive agreements including the Lagos Plan of Action and the Abuja Treaty. Access to new regional markets and reduced non-tariff barriers are intended to help companies scale up, driving job creation and poverty reduction, as well as attracting inward investment to even Africa’s smaller economies.

The signing in 2018 of the instruments governing the Single Air Transport Market and the Protocol on Free Movement of Persons, Right of Residence and Right of Establishment provided another step towards the gradual elimination of barriers to the movement of goods, services and people within the continent.

Tests to come

However, while progress is being made towards the ratification of the AfCFTA, much remains to be done before African countries can fully trade under its terms. The framework for implementation is still under development, and the creation of enabling infrastructure that is critical for connectivity will take time to develop and requires extensive investment.

So, the first test for the AfCFTA will be the level to which Africa’s leaders make it a domestic priority, and whether a consensus can be maintained across the AU’s member states as the costs of implementation become clear.

There is no guarantee that the gains of free trade will be evenly distributed. They will mainly depend on the extent to which countries embrace industrialization, liberalization of their markets and opening of their borders for free movement of goods and people – policies that some incumbent leaders may be reluctant to implement. Political will to maintain a unified negotiating position with diverse stakeholders, including the private sector, will come under increasing stress.  

A second challenge is how the AfCFTA relates to already existing trade arrangements, notably with the EU.  The AU has long preferred to pursue a continent-to-continent trading arrangement instead of the bilateral Economic Partnership Agreements being sought by the EU under the African, Caribbean and Pacific (ACP) framework to which, with the exception of Algeria, Egypt, Libya, Morocco, Tunisia and South Africa, all African states belong. The signing of the AfCFTA is one important step towards making this possible.

But there are currently negotiations under the ACP to replace the Cotonou Accord (the framework governing trade between ACP members and the EU, including Economic Partnership Agreements [EPAs], that is due to expire in 2020). Negotiations on the African pillar of the accord are due to take place after the AfCFTA has entered into force. So African states and the AU will face the challenge of balancing their commitment to the ACP bloc with pursuing their own interests.

And though the AfCFTA should supersede any other agreements, the EPAs or their successors, will continue to govern day-to-day trading, in parallel to the new pan-African market. It is not yet clear how these contradictions will be reconciled.

A new role for the AU?

The AU will need to play an active role as the main interlocutor with Africa´s international trading partners, with the AfCFTA secretariat being the arbiter of internal tensions and trade disputes. The AU´s engagement at continental level has to date revolved mainly around headline political diplomacy, security and peacekeeping. With the continental free market becoming a reality, an effective pivot to economic diplomacy will be critical for growth and development.

With the AfCFTA, the AU has endeavoured to address Africa’s unsustainable position in global trade, to stimulate growth, economic diversification and jobs for its growing population. Much will depend on the commitment of African leaders to maintaining a unified negotiating position to implement the agreement and the AU’s capacity to effectively move from political to economic diplomacy.

The transition of power in Oman from the deceased Sultan Qaboos to his cousin and the country’s new ruler, Sultan Haitham bin Tariq, has been smooth and quick, but the new sultan will soon find that he has a task in shoring up the country’s economic position.

Above all, the fiscal and debt profile of the country requires careful management. Fiscal discipline was rare for Oman even during the oil price spike of the 2000s. Although oil prices only collapsed in 2014, Oman has been registering a fiscal deficit since 2010, reaching a 20.6 per cent high in 2016. As long as fiscal deficits remain elevated, so will Oman’s need to finance those deficits, predominately by borrowing in the local and international market.

Oman’s Debt-to-GDP ratio has been rising at a worrying pace, from 4.9 per cent in 2014 to an IMF-estimated 59.8 per cent in 2019. By 2024, the IMF is forecasting the ratio to reach nearly 77 per cent. A study by the World Bank found that if the debt-to-GDP ratio in emerging markets exceeds 64 per cent for an extended period, it slows economic growth by as much as 2 per cent each year.

Investors are willing to lend to Oman, but the sultanate is paying for it in terms of higher spreads due to the underlying risk markets are placing on the rising debt profile of the country. For instance, Oman has a higher sovereign debt rating than Bahrain yet markets perceive it to be of higher risk, making it costlier to borrow. Failure to address the fiscal and debt situation also risks creating pressure on the country’s pegged currency.

If oil revenues remain low, Sultan Haitham will have to craft a daring strategy of diversification and private sector growth. He is well placed for this: Sultan Haitham headed Oman’s Vision 2040, which set out the country’s future development plans and aspirations, the first Gulf country to embark on such an assessment. However, like all vision documents in the Gulf, Oman’s challenge will be implementation.

In the age of climate change, renewable energy is a serious economic opportunity, which Oman has to keep pursuing. If cheap electricity is generated it could also be exported to other Gulf states and to south Asia. In Oman, the share of renewables in total electricity capacity was around 0.5 per cent in 2018; the ambition is to reach 10 per cent by 2025.

However, in order to reach this target, Oman would have to take additional measures such as enhancing its regulatory framework, introducing a transparent and gradual energy market pricing policy and integrating all stakeholders, including the private sector, into a wider national strategy.

Mining could provide another economic opportunity for Oman’s diversification efforts, with help from a more robust mining law passed last year. The country has large deposits of metals and industrial minerals and its mountains could have gold, palladium, zinc, rare earths and manganese.

Oman’s strategic location connecting the Gulf and Indian Ocean with east Africa and the Red Sea could also boost the country’s economy. The Duqm special economic zone, which is among the largest in the world, could become the commercial thread between Oman, south Asia and China’s ‘Belt and Road Initiative.’

Oman has taken important steps to make its economy more competitive and conducive to foreign direct investment. Incentives include a five-year renewable tax holiday, subsidized plant facilities and utilities, and custom duties relief on equipment and raw materials for the first 10 years of a firm’s operation in Oman.

A private sector economic model that embraces small- and medium-sized enterprises as well as greater competition and entrepreneurship would help increase opportunities in Oman. Like all other Gulf economies, future employment in Oman will have to be driven be the private sector, as there is little space left to grow the public sector.

Privatization needs to continue. Last year’s successful sale of 49 per cent of the electricity transmission company to China’s State Grid is a very positive step. The electricity distribution company as well as Oman Oil are next in line for some form of partial privatization.

The next decade will require Oman to be even more adept in its competitiveness as the region itself tries to find its new bearings. Take tourism for instance; Oman hopes to double its contribution to GDP from around 3 per cent today to 6 per cent by 2040 and the industry is expected to generate half a million jobs by then. Over the next 20 years, Oman will most likely be facing stiff competition in this area not only by the UAE but by Saudi Arabia as well.

The new sultan has an opportunity to embark on deeper economic reforms that could bring higher growth, employment opportunities and a sustainable future. But he has a big task.

There are two well-established ideas in trade. Individually, they are correct. Combined, they can lead to a conclusion that is unfortunately wrong.

The first idea is that, across a range of economic sectors, the EU and the US have been engaged in a battle to have their model of regulation accepted as the global one, and that the EU is generally winning.

The second is that governments can use their regulatory power to extend strategic and foreign policy influence.

The conclusion would seem to be that the EU, which has for decades tried to develop a foreign policy, should be able to use its superpower status in regulation and trade to project its interests and its values abroad.

That’s the theory. It’s a proposition much welcomed by EU policymakers, who know they are highly unlikely any time soon to acquire any of the tools usually required to run an effective foreign policy.

The EU doesn’t have an army it can send into a shooting war, enough military or political aid to prop up or dispense of governments abroad, or a centralized intelligence service. Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has declared her outfit to be a ‘geopolitical commission’, and is casting about for any means of making that real.

Through the ‘Brussels effect’ whereby European rules and standards are exported via both companies and governments, the EU has indeed won many regulatory battles with the US.

Its cars, chemicals and product safety regulations are more widely adopted round the world than their American counterparts. In the absence of any coherent US offering, bar some varied state-level systems, the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is the closest thing the world has to a single model for data privacy, and variants of it are being adopted by dozens of countries.

The problem is this. Those parts of global economic governance where the US is dominant – particularly the dollar payments system – are highly conducive to projecting US power abroad. The extraterritorial reach of secondary sanctions, plus the widespread reliance of banks and companies worldwide on dollar funding – and hence the American financial system – means that the US can precisely target its influence.

The EU can enforce trade sanctions, but not in such a powerful and discriminatory way, and it will always be outgunned by the US. Donald Trump could in effect force European companies to join in his sanctions on Iran when he pulled out of the nuclear deal, despite EU legislation designed to prevent their businesses being bullied. He can go after the chief financial officer of Huawei for allegedly breaching those sanctions.

By contrast, the widespread adoption of GDPR or data protection regimes inspired by it may give the EU a warm glow of satisfaction, but it cannot be turned into a geopolitical tool in the same way.

Nor, necessarily, does it particularly benefit the EU economy. Europe’s undersized tech sector seems unlikely to unduly benefit from the fact that data protection rules were written in the EU. Indeed, one common criticism of the regulations is that they entrench the power of incumbent tech giants like Google.

There is a similar pattern at work in the adoption of new technologies such as artificial intelligence and the Internet of Things. In that field, the EU and its member states are also facing determined competition from China, which has been pushing its technologies and standards through forums such as the International Telecommunication Union.

The EU has been attempting to write international rules for the use of AI which it hopes to be widely adopted. But again, these are a constraint on the use of new technologies largely developed by others, not the control of innovation.

By contrast, China has created a vast domestic market in technologies like facial recognition and unleashed its own companies on it. The resulting surveillance kit can then be marketed to emerging market governments as part of China’s enduring foreign policy campaign to build up supporters in the developing world.

If it genuinely wants to turn its economic power into geopolitical influence – and it’s not entirely clear what it would do with it if it did – the EU needs to recognize that not all forms of regulatory and trading dominance are the same.

Providing public goods to the world economy is all very well. But unless they are so particular in nature that they project uniquely European values and interests, that makes the EU a supplier of useful plumbing but not a global architect of power.

On the other hand, it could content itself with its position for the moment. It could recognize that not until enough hard power – guns, intelligence, money – is transferred from the member states to the centre, or until the member states start acting collectively, will the EU genuinely become a geopolitical force. Speaking loudly and carrying a stick of foam rubber is rarely a way to gain credibility in international relations.

This article is part of a series of publications and roundtable discussions in the Chatham House Global Trade Policy Forum.

What is quantitative easing? How was it used after the 2008 financial crisis?

Quantitative easing (QE) has been in existence since the Japanese central bank introduced it at the turn of the millennium. The simplest way to think about it is this: when interest rates can't go down anymore and play their normal role of stimulating growth, central banks try to expand the money supply. So, they're expanding the quantitative amount of money they put into the system. 

Of course, after 2008 because of the scale of the financial and economic collapse, many Western countries resorted to QE. Some have never gotten rid of it. Others have started to, but as a result of this crisis, have gone straight back to that playbook.

33 million Americans have now filed for unemployment and one in five American workers have lost their jobs due to COVID-19. These are levels not seen since the Great Depression. You recently called for G20 countries to provide income support for all citizens. Why is this so urgent to implement now?

It is incredible to reflect back on the short time since I published that piece. I entitled it the need for a so-called people's QE, and in some ways a number of European countries, including the UK, have executed some aspects of what I was suggesting. 

The United States has not, even though the absolute amounts of money the US authorities have put through their fiscal system to try and support the economy is actually bigger as a percentage of GDP than many in Europe. 

What they haven't done is support ongoing employment through various schemes that many European countries have done, of which the UK has, to some degree, been one of the most ambitious.

That’s partly why you see such enormous filing for unemployment claims in the US. There’s no direct support to encourage employers to keep their employees on, in complete contrast to what you see in many Scandinavian countries who were the first to do it in Europe, and something the UK has since done. 

On a practical level, what might a smart people’s QE look like? 

We are living in an extraordinary time. Like many others in my generation, it’s nothing that any of us have gone through. Perhaps economically, the only parallel one can find is from the 1920s and 1930s.

It became obvious to me in early March that governments are going to have to essentially force as many of us as possible, if we weren't doing absolutely crucial necessities, to stop working or to work from home. It was pretty obvious that the consequences could be horrific. 

So, the idea of a people's QE that I suggested then, some would have regarded as quite audacious. The most dramatic thing that could be done was, to put it simply, governments effectively pay for every business and every employee to have a two month paid holiday. Obviously, this would cost a very large amount of money for governments, but it would be the least disruptive way of getting us all to stay home.

And when the time is right to start letting us get back to anything vaguely like normality, there wouldn't be as much permanent disruption. I think about six weeks have passed since I wrote that piece. Actually, given the policies many governments have announced, I'm not sure undertaking the audacity in generosity of what I suggested would have cost any more. Over the long term, it might have actually turned out to be less. 

Of course, there are ethics issues around whether the system could be gamed or not, amongst other issues. But six weeks later, I still believe that would have been the smartest thing to do. It certainly would have been much better than trying to encourage many businesses, particularly smaller ones, to take out loans.

A couple of countries got close to what I was suggesting – Germany and Switzerland were very quick to give 100% government guarantees to business, as well as generous wage support systems. But a number of other countries haven't, like the US, even though they wrote a $1200 check for each citizen. 

Should a people’s QE involve the purchase and write off of consumer debt and student debt by a central bank? 

I think these things might have to be considered. I remember being on a conference call to Chatham House members where we discussed what would be the likely economic consequences and what policymakers should do. One person on the call was talking about quite conventional forms of policy just through various forms of standard QE. 

During the Q&A, someone asked whether we thought the US Federal Reserve might end up buying equities. And I said, well, why not? Eventually, it might come to that. 

Actually, before that discussion was over, the Fed coincidentally announced they were going to buy high-yield corporate bonds, or very risky company debt. This is something that would have been unheard of even by the playbook of 2008. 

So, I don't think ideas like a kind of provision to help student debtors is entirely crazy. These are things that our policymakers are going to have to think about as we go forward in the challenging and unpredictable days and weeks ahead. 

Poorer countries like El Salvador have gone as far as cancelling rent and major utility bills for its citizens. Do you think countries like the US and UK have gone far enough to help people during the crisis?

Going one step further than a people’s QE and postponing major payments is a pretty interesting concept. I think in reality, it would be very disruptive to the medium to long-term mechanism of our societies. It could be very, very complicated. 

But, of course, some parts of the G20 nations, including the UK, have moved significantly in these areas as it relates to rent payments or mortgage payments. There have been significant mortgage holidays being introduced for many sectors of our community. I think the British government has been quite thoughtful about it without doing the whole hog of potentially getting rid of our transaction system for two months or beyond.

You know, this may well be something that has to be considered if, God forbid, there is a second peak of the virus. If countries come out of a lockdown and all that results in is a dramatic rise in infections and then death again, we're going to end up right back where we are. Policymakers may have to implement more generous versions of what we've done already, despite what the long term debt consequences could be.

The Coronavirus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act in the US has been criticized as a corporate bailout while offering little to the American people. It was recently reported that hedge fund managers are applying for bailouts as ‘small businesses.’ Do you think more oversight is needed in how the stimulus funds are allocated? 

The speed at which many countries have responded and introduced policies means that there's going to be some gaping holes which allow people to unfairly benefit from the system. And if indeed, that were to be the case, I cannot see why a hedge fund should benefit from government generosity.

A true hedge fund is supposed to be a form of investment manager that thrives in times of great volatility, and knows how to better navigate such financial markets than more conventional funds. So this shouldn’t be an environment where hedge funds seek the same kind of help as small businesses. That is certainly something the government should be very careful about.

Some economists argue that central banks are not independent as they finance fiscal spending through purchase of government bonds. Do the strong measures taken by central banks in response to the crisis undermine the argument for central bank independence? 

In my view, an effective central bank has to do whatever is necessary, including doing very unconventional things, when the society in which that central bank operates needs it. 

Most of the time, central banks are pretty boring places, but they really become crucial organizations when we go through times like the 1920s, 1930s, 2008, and of course, this current crisis. If they want to maintain their legitimacy, whatever the true parliamentary or congressional legal standing is, they have to do things quickly and as we've seen in this case, differently than the convention in order to do what our societies need. 

Somebody was asking me just last week whether the Fed buying high grade debt was legal or not. I think that’s a pretty irrelevant conversation because if it’s not legal now, it will be made legal tomorrow. So, I think central banks have to keep their legitimacy and they have to do what is necessary when the time requires it. In that sense, I think most central banks have handled this crisis so far pretty well.