In the months leading up to the 2015 United Nations climate change conference in Paris starting November 30, global businesses have pledged to do their part for proactive climate action. To "capture and catalyze" these commitments, the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, in conjunction with the government of Peru, launched the Non-State Actor Zone for Climate Change (NAZCA). NAZCA is an online portal that showcases commitment to action by companies, investors, cities and subnational regions to address climate change. To date, more than 2,000 companies—from Baosteel Group Corporation to Exxon Mobil Corporation to Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing to Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.—have made voluntary commitments to reduce emissions, increase energy use efficiencies and invest in renewable energy sources.

IT sector stands out 

Proactive action by businesses to combat global climate change is not new. Over the past decade, businesses have increasingly engaged in voluntary climate action to share best practices, network, promote market mechanisms, and set greenhouse gas emission reduction targets. Despite this, not all businesses are eager participants. My recent paper on the role of the Global 500 companies in transnational climate governance shows that, after controlling for political economic and institutional factors at the country level, global businesses operating in the information technology (IT) sector are twice as likely as other firms to engage in proactive climate action. Next to the consumer staples sector, the IT sector has the highest share of global companies engaging in proactive climate action compared to the energy, health care, industrials, materials and utilities sectors.

Among the notable IT companies worldwide that have taken proactive climate action, including public disclosures of their carbon emissions, are Apple Inc., Google Inc., Hitachi, Ltd., LG Innotek, Microsoft Corp., Ericsson and Telefonica.

There are several reasons why IT companies are in a better position than other corporations to play a proactive role in climate change mitigation. First, IT companies, as a sector, tend to be wealthier, not only in terms of asset holdings but also profitability. They also employ a larger number of workers than other companies. Large and well-endowed corporations are better able to afford the costly investments necessary for deploying renewable energy and for undertaking carbon emissions management. According to my findings, wealthy corporations that employ a large number of workers have two to four time higher odds of proactive climate action than companies with smaller asset holdings and employee base.

Complementary capabilities

Second, my research also shows that, more often than not, when a company demonstrates a commitment to sustainability through complementary capabilities and competencies, namely investments in environmental R&D and/or certification with the ISO 14001 environmental management standard, the odds are higher that the company also engages in voluntary climate action and carbon disclosure. For example, a larger share of companies in the IT sector (75 percent) are certified with the ISO 14001 environmental management standard than Global 500 companies excluding IT (54 percent). A similar pattern, albeit less pronounced, is also true of investments in environmental R&D by IT companies compared to other global companies (56 percent versus 48 percent).

Wealth endowment and complementary capabilities aside, IT companies are more likely than other Global 500 companies to have an in-house managerial- or executive-level sustainability officer. Close to half of all IT companies have formally created a position of a vice president of sustainability or a chief sustainability officer compared to about 40 percent of other global businesses. These in-house champions of sustainability policies and initiatives play a critical role in helping to align corporate vision and allocate the necessary resources toward sustainability efforts.

Among the world’s largest companies by revenue, Apple Inc. (rank 15^th) is a leader in proactive climate action: Apple has pledged to "maintain 100% renewable energy in datacenters… [and] maintain carbon neutrality of purchased electricity for U.S. corporate facilities achieved in 2014 through renewable energy purchases and onsite generation and procurement." In 2014, Apple hired Lisa Jackson, a former administrator of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency as its vice president of environmental, policy, and social initiatives, reporting directly to CEO Tim Cook. Along with Jacky Haynes, Apple’s senior director of social and environmental responsibility who specializes in supplier responsibility, Jackson has brokered a relationship with the Beijing-based Institute of Public & Environmental Affairs to train Apple facilities workers as part of Apple’s new Environmental, Health, and Safety Academy and to proactively publish emissions data of Apple’s supplier facilities in China. By committing to voluntary climate action, Apple and other corporations signal to consumers that they are socially responsible companies, not only to preempt public scrutiny but to gain an advantage in the "market for virtues."

Apple and Microsoft Corp. are the only two private sector entities that earned the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA)’s Green Power Partner of the Year award in 2015, which recognizes leadership in green power use and overall strategy and impact on the green power market.

Other IT companies, such as Autodesk, BT, Infosys, Salesforce and SAP have recently joined forces with Aviva, IKEA, Starbucks, Walmart, Marks and Spencer, Johnson & Johnson, among others, as part of RE100, a collaborative initiative of businesses, to set long-term target on powering their operations entirely with renewable energy.

Living up to promises

The fact that so many companies are recognizing the dangers of climate change and setting ambitious climate action goals is laudable. The biggest challenge will be seeing that they live up to their promises, especially given the voluntary nature of initiatives such as NAZCA. To thwart greenwashing, national governments and global governance organizations have an important role to play to keep the IT sector and other businesses accountable. The first step that NAZCA has taken is to invite "partnerships with others who would…make assessments of this type." A significant next step would be to publish guidelines and best practices for third-party monitoring and verification in order to strengthen the link between pledges for proactive action and ultimate follow-through by corporations. IT companies, as leaders in proactive climate action, should be at the forefront of working to establish best practices for adherence to voluntary commitments for mitigating global climate change.

       

       

       

       

At the very heart of the American idea is the notion that, unlike in other places, we can start from nothing and through hard work have everything. That nothing we can imagine is beyond our reach. That we will pull up stakes, go anywhere, do anything to make our dreams come true. But what if that's just a myth? What if the truth is something very different? What if we are…stuck?

I. What does it mean to be an American?

Full disclosure: I'm British. Partial defense: I was born on the Fourth of July. I also have made my home here, because I want my teenage sons to feel more American. What does that mean? I don't just mean waving flags and watching football and drinking bad beer. (Okay, yes, the beer is excellent now; otherwise, it would have been a harder migration.) I'm talking about the essence of Americanism. It is a question on which much ink—and blood—has been spent. But I think it can be answered very simply: To be American is to be free to make something of yourself. An everyday phrase that's used to admire another ("She's really made something of herself") or as a proud boast ("I'm a self-made man!"), it also expresses a theological truth. The most important American-manufactured products are Americans themselves. The spirit of self-creation offers a strong and inspiring contrast with English identity, which is based on social class. In my old country, people are supposed to know their place. British people, still constitutionally subjects of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, can say things like "Oh, no, that's not for people like me." Infuriating.

Americans do not know their place in society; they make their place. American social structures and hierarchies are open, fluid, and dynamic. Mobility, not nobility. Or at least that's the theory. Here's President Obama, in his second inaugural address: "We are true to our creed when a little girl born into the bleakest poverty knows that she has the same chance to succeed as anybody else because she is an American; she is free, and she is equal, not just in the eyes of God but also in our own."

Politicians of the left in Europe would lament the existence of bleak poverty. Obama instead attacks the idea that a child born to poor parents will inherit their status. "The same chance to succeed as anybody else because she is an American…."

Americanism is a unique and powerful cocktail, blending radical egalitarianism (born equal) with fierce individualism (it's up to you): equal parts Thomas Paine and Horatio Alger. Egalitarian individualism is in America's DNA. In his original draft of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson wrote that "men are created equal and independent," a sentiment that remained even though the last two words were ultimately cut. It was a declaration not only of national independence but also of a nation of independents.

The problem lately is not the American Dream in the abstract. It is the growing failure to realize it. Two necessary ingredients of Americanism—meritocracy and momentum—are now sorely lacking.

America is stuck.

Almost everywhere you look—at class structures, Congress, the economy, race gaps, residential mobility, even the roads—progress is slowing. Gridlock has already become a useful term for political inactivity in Washington, D. C. But it goes much deeper than that. American society itself has become stuck, with weak circulation and mobility across class lines. The economy has lost its postwar dynamism. Racial gaps, illuminated by the burning of churches and urban unrest, stubbornly persist.

In a nation where progress was once unquestioned, stasis threatens. Many Americans I talk to sense that things just aren't moving the way they once were. They are right. Right now this prevailing feeling of stuckness, of limited possibilities and uncertain futures, is fueling a growing contempt for institutions, from the banks and Congress to the media and big business, and a wave of antipolitics on both left and right. It is an impotent anger that has yet to take coherent shape. But even if the American people don't know what to do about it, they know that something is profoundly wrong.

II. How stuck are we?

Let's start with the most important symptom: a lack of social mobility. For all the boasts of meritocracy—only in America!—Americans born at the bottom of the ladder are in fact now less likely to rise to the top than those situated similarly in most other nations, and only half as likely as their Canadian counterparts. The proportion of children born on the bottom rung of the ladder who rise to the top as adults in the U.S. is 7.5 percent—lower than in the U.K. (9 percent), Denmark (11.7), and Canada (13.5). Horatio Alger has a funny Canadian accent now.

It is not just poverty that is inherited. Affluent Americans are solidifying their own status and passing it on to their children more than the affluent in other nations and more than they did in the past. Boys born in 1948 to a high-earning father (in the top quarter of wage distribution) had a 33 percent chance of becoming a top earner themselves; for those born in 1980, the chance of staying at the top rose sharply to 44 percent, according to calculations by Manhattan Institute economist Scott Winship. The sons of fathers with really high earnings—in the top 5 percent—are much less likely to tumble down the ladder in the U. S. than in Canada (44 percent versus 59 percent). A "glass floor" prevents even the least talented offspring of the affluent from falling. There is a blockage in the circulation of the American elite as well, a system-wide hardening of the arteries.

Exhibit A in the case against the American political elites: the U. S. tax code. To call it Byzantine is an insult to medieval Roman administrative prowess. There is one good reason for this complexity: The American tax system is a major instrument of social policy, especially in terms of tax credits to lower-income families, health-care subsidies, incentives for retirement savings, and so on. But there are plenty of bad reasons, too—above all, the billions of dollars' worth of breaks and exceptions resulting from lobbying efforts by the very people the tax system favors.

So fragile is the American political ego that we can't go five minutes without congratulating ourselves on the greatness of our system, yet policy choices exacerbate stuckness.

The American system is also a weak reed when it comes to redistribution. You will have read and heard many times that the United States is one of the most unequal nations in the world. That is true, but only after the impact of taxes and benefits is taken into account. What economists call "market inequality," which exists before any government intervention at all, is much lower—in fact it's about the same as in Germany and France. There is a lot going on under the hood here, but the key point is clear enough: America is unequal because American policy moves less money from rich to poor. Inequality is not fate or an act of nature. Inequality is a choice.

These are facts that should shock America into action. For a nation organized principally around the ideas of opportunity and openness, social stickiness of this order amounts to an existential threat. Although political leaders declare their dedication to openness, the hard issues raised by social inertia are receiving insufficient attention in terms of actual policy solutions. Most American politicians remain cheerleaders for the American Dream, merely offering loud encouragement from the sidelines, as if that were their role. So fragile is the American political ego that we can't go five minutes without congratulating ourselves on the greatness of our system, yet policy choices exacerbate stuckness and ensure decline.

In Britain (where stickiness has historically been an accepted social condition), by contrast, the issues of social mobility and class stickiness have risen to the top of the political and policy agenda. In the previous U.K. government (in which I served as director of strategy to Nick Clegg, the deputy prime minister), we devoted whole Cabinet meetings to the problems of intergenerational mobility and the development of a new national strategy. (One result has been a dramatic expansion in pre-K education and care: Every 3- and 4-year-old will soon be entitled to 30 hours a week for free.) Many of the Cabinet members were schooled at the nation's finest private high schools. A few had hereditary titles. But they pored over data and argued over remedies—posh people worrying over intergenerational income quintiles.

Why is social mobility a hotter topic in the old country? Here is my theory: Brits are acutely aware that they live in a class-divided society. Cues and clues of accent, dress, education, and comportment are constantly calibrated. But this awareness increases political pressure to reduce these divisions. In America, by contrast, the myth of classlessness stands in the way of progress. The everyday folksiness of Americans—which, to be clear, I love—serves as a social camouflage for deep economic inequality. Americans tell themselves and one another that they live in a classless land of open opportunity. But it is starting to ring hollow, isn't it?

III. For black Americans, claims of equal opportunity have, of course, been false from the founding.

They remain false today. The chances of being stuck in poverty are far, far greater for black kids. Half of those born on the bottom rung of the income ladder (the bottom fifth) will stay there as adults. Perhaps even more disturbing, seven out of ten black kids raised in middle-income homes (i.e., the middle fifth) will end up lower down as adults. A boy who grows up in Baltimore will earn 28 percent less simply because he grew up in Baltimore: In other words, this supersedes all other factors. Sixty-six percent of black children live in America's poorest neighborhoods, compared with six percent of white children.

Recent events have shone a light on the black experience in dozens of U. S. cities.

Behind the riots and the rage, the statistics tell a simple, damning story. Progress toward equality for black Americans has essentially halted. The average black family has an income that is 59 percent of the average white family's, down from 65 percent in 2000. In the job market, race gaps are immobile, too. In the 1950s, black Americans were twice as likely to be unemployed as whites. And today? Still twice as likely.

From heeding the call "Go west, young man" to loading up the U-Haul in search of a better job, the instinctive restlessness of America has always matched skills to work, people to opportunities, labor to capital.

Race gaps in wealth are perhaps the most striking of all. The average white household is now thirteen times wealthier than the average black one. This is the widest gap in a quarter of a century. The recession hit families of all races, but it resulted in a wealth wipeout for black families. In 2007, the average black family had a net worth of $19,200, almost entirely in housing stock, typically at the cheap, fragile end of the market. By 2010, this had fallen to $16,600. By 2013—by which point white wealth levels had started to recover—it was down to $11,000. In national economic terms, black wealth is now essentially nonexistent.

Half a century after the passing of the Civil Rights Act, the arc of history is no longer bending toward justice. A few years ago, it was reasonable to hope that changing attitudes, increasing education, and a growing economy would surely, if slowly, bring black America and white America closer together. No longer. America is stuck.

IV. The economy is also getting stuck.

Labor productivity growth, measured as growth in output per hour, has averaged 1.6 percent since 1973. Male earning power is flatlining. In 2014, the median full-time male wage was $50,000, down from $53,000 in 1973 (in the dollar equivalent of 2014). Capital is being hoarded rather than invested in the businesses of the future. U. S. corporations have almost $1.5 trillion sitting on their balance sheets, and many are busily buying up their own stock. But capital expenditure lags, hindering the economic recovery.

New-business creation and entrepreneurial activity are declining, too. As economist Robert Litan has shown, the proportion of "baby businesses" (firms less than a year old) has almost halved since the late 1970s, decreasing from 15 percent to 8 percent—the hallmark of "a steady, secular decline in business dynamism." It is significant that this downward trend set in long before the Great Recession hit. There is less movement between jobs as well, another symptom of declining economic vigor.

Americans are settling behind their desks—and also into their neighborhoods. The proportion of American adults moving house each year has decreased by almost half since the postwar years, to around 12 percent. Long-distance moves across state lines have as well. This is partly due to technological advances, which have weakened the link between location and job prospects, and partly to the growth of economic diversity in cities; there are few "one industry" towns today. But it is also due to a less vibrant housing market, slower rates of new business creation, and a lessening in Americans' appetite for disruption, change, and risk.

This geographic settling is at odds with historic American geographic mobility. From heeding the call "Go west, young man" to loading up the U-Haul in search of a better job, the instinctive restlessness of America has always matched skills to work, people to opportunities, labor to capital. Rather than waiting for help from the government, or for the economic tide to turn back in their favor, millions of Americans changed their life prospects by changing their address. Now they are more likely to stay put and wait. Others, especially black Americans, are unable to escape the poor neighborhoods of their childhood. They are, as the title of an influential book by sociologist Patrick Sharkey puts it, Stuck in Place.

There are everyday symptoms of stuckness, too. Take transport. In 2014, Americans collectively spent almost seven billion hours stuck motionless in traffic—that's a couple days each. The roads get more jammed every year. But money for infrastructure improvements is stuck in a failing road fund, and the railophobia of politicians hampers investment in public transport.

Whose job is it to do something about this? The most visible symptom of our disease is the glue slowly hardening in the machinery of national government. The last two Congresses have been the least productive in history by almost any measure chosen, just when we need them to be the most productive. The U. S. political system, with its strong separation among competing centers of power, relies on a spirit of cross-party compromise and trust in order to work. Good luck there.

V. So what is to be done?

As with anything, the first step is to admit the problem. Americans have to stop convincing themselves they live in a society of opportunity. It is a painful admission, of course, especially for the most successful. The most fervent believers in meritocracy are naturally those who have enjoyed success. It is hard to acknowledge the role of good fortune, including the lottery of birth, when describing your own path to greatness.

There is a general reckoning needed. In the golden years following World War II, the economy grew at 4 percent per annum and wages surged. Wealth accumulated. The federal government, at the zenith of its powers, built interstates and the welfare system, sent GIs to college and men to the moon. But here's the thing: Those days are gone, and they're not coming back. Opportunity and growth will no longer be delivered, almost automatically, by a buoyant and largely unchallenged economy. Now it will take work.

The future success of the American idea must now be intentional.

Entrepreneurial, mobile, aspirational: New Americans are true Americans. We need a lot more of them.

There are plenty of ideas for reform that simply require will and a functioning political system. At the heart of them is the determination to think big again and to vigorously engage in public investment. And we need to put money into future generations like our lives depended on it, because they do: Access to affordable, effective contraception dramatically cuts rates of unplanned pregnancy and gives kids a better start in life. Done well, pre-K education closes learning gaps and prepares children for school. More generous income benefits stabilize homes and help kids. Reading programs for new parents improve literacy levels. Strong school principals attract good teachers and raise standards. College coaches help get nontraditional students to and through college. And so on. We are not lacking ideas. We are lacking a necessary sense of political urgency. We are stuck.

But we can move again if we choose.

In addition to a rejuvenation of policy in all these fields, there are two big shifts required for an American twenty-first-century renaissance: becoming open to more immigration and shifting power from Washington to the cities.

VI. America needs another wave of immigration.

This is in part just basic math: We need more young workers to fund the old age of the baby boomers. But there is more to it than that. Immigrants also provide a shot in the arm to American vitality itself. Always have, always will. Immigrants are now twice as likely to start a new business as native-born Americans. Rates of entrepreneurialism are declining among natives but rising among immigrants.

Immigrant children show extraordinary upward-mobility rates, shooting up the income-distribution ladder like rockets, yet by the third or fourth generation, the rates go down, reflecting indigenous norms. Among children born in Los Angeles to poorly educated Chinese immigrants, for example, an astonishing 70 percent complete a four-year-college degree. As the work of my Brookings colleague William Frey shows, immigrants are migrants within the U. S., too, moving on from traditional immigrant cities—New York, Los Angeles—to other towns and cities in search of a better future. Entrepreneurial, mobile, aspirational: New Americans are true Americans. We need a lot more of them.

This makes a mockery of our contemporary political "debates" about immigration reform, which have become intertwined with race and racism. Some Republicans tap directly into white fears of an America growing steadily browner. More than four in ten white seniors say that a growing population of immigrants is a "change for the worse"; half of white boomers believe immigration is "a threat to traditional American customs and values." But immigration delves deeper into the question of American identity than it does even issues of race. Immigrants generate more dynamism and aspiration, but they are also unsettling and challenging. Where this debate ends will therefore tell us a great deal about the trajectory of the nation. An America that closes its doors will be an America that has chosen to settle rather than grow, that has allowed security to trump dynamism.

VII. The second big shift needed to get America unstuck is a revival of city and state governance.

Since the American Dream is part of the national identity, it seems natural to look to the national government to help make it a reality. But cities are now where the American Dream will live or die. America's hundred biggest metros are home to 67 percent of the nation's population and 75 percent of its economy. Americans love the iconography of the small town, even at the movies—but they watch those movies in big cities.

Powerful mayors in those cities have greater room for maneuvering and making an impact than the average U. S. senator. Even smaller cities and towns can be strongly influenced by their mayor.

There are choices to be made. Class divisions are hardening. Upward mobility has a very weak pulse. Race gaps are widening.

The new federalism in part is being born of necessity. National politics is in ruins, and national institutions are weakened by years of short-termism and partisanship. Power, finding a vacuum in D. C., is diffusive. But it may also be that many of the big domestic-policy challenges will be better answered at a subnational level, because that is where many of the levers of change are to be found: education, family planning, housing, desegregation, job creation, transport, and training. Amid the furor over Common Core and federal standards, it is important to remember that for every hundred dollars spent on education, just nine come from the federal government.

We may be witnessing the end of many decades of national-government dominance in domestic policy-making (the New Deal, Social Security, Medicare, welfare reform, Obamacare). The Affordable Care Act is important in itself, but it may also come to have a place in history as the legislative bookend to a long period of national-policy virtuosity.

The case for the new federalism need not be overstated. There will still be plenty of problems for the national government to fix, including, among the most urgent, infrastructure and nuclear waste. The main tools of macroeconomic policy will remain the Federal Reserve and the federal tax code. But the twentieth-century model of big federal social-policy reforms is in decline. Mayors and governors are starting to notice, and because they don't have the luxury of being stuck, they are forced to be entrepreneurs of a new politics simply to survive.

VIII. It is possible for America to recover its earlier dynamism, but it won't be easy.

The big question for Americans is: Do you really want to? Societies, like people, age. They might also settle down, lose some dynamism, trade a little less openness for a little more security, get a bit stuck in their ways. Many of the settled nations of old Europe have largely come to terms with their middle age. They are wary of immigration but enthusiastic about generous welfare systems and income redistribution. Less dynamism, maybe, but more security in exchange.

America, it seems to me, is not made to be a settled society. Such a notion runs counter to the story we tell ourselves about who we are. (That's right, we. We've all come from somewhere else, haven't we? I just got here a bit more recently.) But over time, our narratives become myths, insulating us from the truth. For we are surely stuck, if not settled. And so America needs to decide one way or the other. There are choices to be made. Class divisions are hardening. Upward mobility has a very weak pulse. Race gaps are widening. The worst of all worlds threatens: a European class structure without European welfare systems to dull the pain.

Americans tell themselves and the world that theirs is a society in which each and all can rise, an inspiring contrast to the hereditary cultures from which it sprang. It's one of the reasons I'm here. But have I arrived to raise my children here just in time to be stuck, too? Or will America be America again?

Editor's note: This piece originally appeared in Esquire.

      

Politicians and scholars often lament the persistence of poverty across generations. But affluence persists, too. In the U.S. especially, the top of the income distribution is just as “sticky”, in intergenerational terms, as the bottom. The American upper middle class is reproducing itself quite effectively.

Good parenting, but also opportunity hoarding

Class reproduction is of course driven by a whole range of factors, from parenting and family structure through formal education, informal learning, the use of social networks, and so on. Some are unfair: playing the legacy card in college admissions, securing internships via closed social networks, zoning out lower-income families from our neighborhoods and school catchment areas. (These “opportunity hoarding” mechanisms are the focus of my forthcoming book, Dream Hoarders.)

Inequality incentivizes class persistence

It is natural and laudable for parents to want their children to prosper. It is also understandable that they’ll use the resources and means at their disposal to try to reduce the chances of their children being downwardly mobile. They are likely to try even harder if the drop looks big, in economic terms.

There is a significant earnings gap between those at the top and those in the middle. But this gap is much bigger in the U.S. than in other nations, and is getting bigger over time:

The cost of falling reflects the particular way in which income inequality has risen in recent years: namely, at the top of the distribution. The relationship between income inequality and intergenerational mobility is a much-disputed one, as regular readers of this blog know well. Overall, the evidence for a “Great Gatsby Curve” is quite weak.

But at the top of the distribution, there could be some incentive effects linking inequality and immobility. As the income gap has widened at the top, the consequences of falling out of the upper middle class have worsened. So the incentives of the upper middle class to keep themselves, and their children, up at the top have strengthened. It looks like a long drop, because it is.

Affluenza

Upper middle class Americans do seem worried. In 2011, while around half of American adults making less than $30,000 per year agreed that “today’s children will lead a better life than their parents,” only 37 percent of those making $75,000 or more were as optimistic.

The greater spending of upper middle class parents on “enrichment activities” is well known; recent evidence suggests the Great Recession did nothing to reduce it. American upper middle class parents are desperate to secure their children a high position on the earnings ladder. This makes sense, given the consequences of downward mobility for their economic fortunes. Inequality incentivizes opportunity hoarding, which reduces social mobility. Time, perhaps, to lower the stakes a little?

       

Editor's Note: In the coming decade, China’s economic growth is projected to slow from its long-run average annual rate of 10 percent, sustained over the past three decades. The imminent slowdown also reflects a variety of specific structural challenges. Arthur Kroeber argues that responding effectively to these challenges requires a broad set of reforms in the financial sector, fiscal policy, pricing of key factors such as land and energy which are now subject to extensive government manipulation, and the structure of markets.

In the coming decade, China’s economic growth will certainly slow from the long-run average annual rate of 10% sustained over the past three decades. In part this is a natural slowdown in an economy that is now quite large (around US$7 trillion at market exchange rates) and solidly middle-income (per capita GDP of about US$7,500, at purchasing power parity). Despite the certainty of this slowdown, China’s potential growth rate remains high: per-capita income is still far below the level at which incomes in the other major northeast Asian economies (Japan, South Korea and Taiwan) stopped converging with the US level; the per-capita capital stock remains low, suggesting the need for substantial more investment; and the supply of low-cost labor from the traditional agricultural sector has not yet been exhausted. All these factors suggest it should be quite possible for China to achieve average annual real GDP growth of at least 7% a year through 2020.[1]

But the imminent slowdown also reflects a variety of specific structural challenges which require active policy response. Inadequate policies could result in a failure of China to achieve its potential growth rate. Three of the most prominent structural challenges are a reversal of demographic trends from positive to negative; a substantial secular decline in the contribution of exports to growth; and the very rapid increase in credit created by the 2009-10 stimulus program, which almost certainly led to a substantial reduction of the return on capital. Responding effectively to these challenges requires a broad set of reforms in the financial sector, fiscal policy, pricing of key factors such as land and energy which are now subject to extensive government manipulation, and the structure of markets. This paper will argue that financial sector reform is the best and most direct way to overcome these three major structural challenges.

1. China’s growth potential

There are several strong reasons to believe that China has the potential to sustain a fairly rapid rate of GDP growth for at least another decade. We define “fairly rapid” as real growth of 7% a year, which is a very high rate for an economy of China’s size (US$7 trillion), but substantially below the average growth rate since 1980, which has been approximately 10%.

The most general reason for this belief is that China’s economic growth model most closely approximates the successful “catch-up” growth model employed by its northeast Asian neighbors Japan, South Korea and Taiwan in the decades after World War II. The theory behind “catch-up” growth is simply that poor countries whose technological level is far from the global technological frontier can achieve substantial convergence with rich-country income levels by copying and diffusing imported technology. Achieving this catch-up growth requires extensive investments in enabling infrastructure and basic industry, and an industrial policy that focuses on promoting exports. The latter condition is important because a disciplined focus on exports forces companies to keep up with improvements in global technology; in effect, a vibrant export sector is one (and probably the most efficient) mechanism for importing technology.

A survey of 96 major economies from 1970 to 2008 shows that 14 achieved significant convergence growth, defined as an increase of at least 10 percentage points in per capita GDP relative to the United States (at purchasing power parity). Eight of these countries were on the periphery of Europe and so presumably benefited from the spillover effects of western Europe’s rapid growth after World War II, and from the integration of eastern and western Europe after 1990. The other six were Asian export-oriented economies: Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Thailand and China. Most of these countries experienced a period of very rapid convergence with US income levels and then a sharp slowdown or leveling off. On average, rapid convergence growth ended when the country’s per capita GDP reached 55% of the US level. The northeast Asian economies that China most closely resembles were among the most successful: convergence growth in Japan, Taiwan and South Korea slowed at 90%, 60% and 50% of US per capita income respectively. In 2010 China’s per capita income was only 20% of the US level. Based on this comparative historical experience, it seems plausible that China could enjoy at least one more decade of relatively rapid growth, until its per capita income reaches 40% or more of the US level.[2]

So China’s growth potential is fairly clear. But realizing this potential is not automatic: it requires a constant process of structural reform to unlock labor productivity gains and improve the return on capital. The urgency of structural reform is particularly acute now. To understand why, we now examine three structural factors that are likely to exert a substantially negative effect on economic growth in coming years.

2. Challenges to growth

When considering China’s structural growth prospects, it is necessary to take account of at least three major challenges to growth. Over the past three decades, rapid economic growth has been supported by favorable demographics, a very strong contribution from exports, and a large increase in the stock of credit. The demographic trend is now starting to go into reverse, the export contribution to growth has slowed dramatically in the last few years, and the expansion of credit cannot be safely sustained for more than another year or two at most.

Demographics. From 1975 to 2010, China’s “dependency ratio”—the ratio of the presumably non-working (young people under the age of 15 and old people above the age of 64) to the presumably working (those aged 15-64) fell from approximately 0.8 to 0.4. Over the same period the “prime worker ratio”—the ratio of people aged 20-59 to those 60 and above—stayed roughly stable at above 5. Both of these ratios indicate that China’s economy enjoyed a very high ratio of workers to non-workers. This situation is favorable for economic growth, because it implies that with a relatively small number of dependent mouths to feed, workers can save a higher proportion of their incomes, and the resulting increase in aggregate national saving becomes available for investment in infrastructure and basic industry.

Over the next two decades, however, these demographic trends will reverse. The dependency ratio will rise, albeit slowly at first, and the prime worker ratio will decline sharply from 5 today to 2 in the early 2030s. These demographic shifts are likely to exert a drag on economic growth, for two reasons.

The first impact, which is already being felt, is a reduction in the supply of new entrants into the labor force—those aged 15-24. This cohort has fluctuated between 200m and 230m since the early 1990s, and in 2010 it stood at the upper end of that range. By 2023 it will have fallen by one-third, to 150m, a far lower figure than at any point since China began economic reforms in 1978. Because the supply of new workers is falling relative to demand for labor, wage growth is likely to accelerate above the rate of labor productivity growth, which appears to be in decline from the very high levels achieved in 2000-2010. As a result, unit labor costs will start to rise (a trend already in evidence in the manufacturing sector since 2004) and inflationary pressures will build. In order to keep inflation at a socially acceptable level, the government will be forced to tighten monetary policy and reduce the trend rate of economic growth.

The second impact will be the large increase in the population of retirees relative to the number of workers available to support them. This is the effect described by the prime worker ratio, which currently shows that there are five people of prime working age for every person of likely retirement age. As this ratio declines, the overall productivity of the economy slows, and the health and pension costs of supporting an aging population rise. The combination of these two effects can contribute to a dramatic slowdown in economic growth: during the period when Japan’s prime worker ratio fell from 5 to 2 (1970-2005), the trend GDP growth rate fell from 8% to under 2% (though demographics, of course, does not explain all of this decline). Over the next 20 years China’s prime worker ratio will decline by exactly the same amount as Japan’s did from 1970-2005.

Export challenge. Another element of China’s extraordinary growth was its rapidly growing export sector. Exports are a crucial component of catch-up growth in poor economies because, as explained above, they act as a vector of technology transfer: in order to remain globally competitive, exporters must continually upgrade their technology (including their processes and management systems) to keep up with the continuous advance of the global technological frontier.

Precisely measuring the impact of exports on economic growth is tricky, because what matters is not headline export value (which contains contributions from imported components and materials), but the domestic value added content of exports. In addition, a dynamic export sector is likely to have indirect impacts on the domestic economy through the wages paid to workers, the long-run effect of technological upgrading and so on. If we ignore these second-round impacts and focus simply on the direct contribution to GDP growth of domestic value added in exports, we find that exports contributed 4.6 percentage points to GDP growth on average in 2003-07. In other words, exports accounted for about 40% of economic growth during that period.[3]

Such a high export contribution to growth is on its face unsustainable for a large continental economy like China’s, and in fact the export contribution has slowed substantially since the 2008 global financial crisis. In 2008-11 the average contribution of export value added to GDP growth was just 1.5 percentage points – about one-third the 2003-07 average. It is likely that the export contribution to growth will fall even further in coming years.

Credit challenge. China responded to the global financial crisis with a very large economic stimulus program which was financed by a large increase in the credit stock. The ratio of non-financial credit (borrowing by government, households and non-financial corporations) rose from 160% in 2008 to over 200% in 2011. While the overall credit/GDP ratio remains lower than the 250% that is typical for OECD nations, a rapid increase in the credit stock in a short period of time, regardless of the level, is frequently associated with financial crisis. In China’s case, it is evident that the majority of the increase in the credit stock reflects borrowing by local governments to finance infrastructure projects which are likely to produce economic benefit in the long run but which in many cases will result in immediate financial losses.[4] To avert a potential banking sector crisis, therefore, it would be prudent for government policy to target first a stabilization and then a decline in the credit/GDP ratio.

The good news is that China has recent experience of deflating a credit bubble. In the five years after the Asian financial crisis (1998-2003), the credit/GDP ratio rose by 40 percentage points (the same amount as in 2008-11) as the government financed infrastructure spending to offset the impact of the crisis. Over the next five years (2003-08), the credit/GDP ratio fell by 20 points, as nominal GDP growth (17% a year on average) outstripped the annual growth in credit (15%). This experience suggests that, in principle, it should be possible to reduce the annual growth in credit significantly without torpedoing economic growth.

The bad news is that the 2003-08 deleveraging occurred within the context of the extremely favorable demographics, and unusually robust export growth that we have just described. Not only are these conditions unlikely to be repeated in the coming decade, both these factors are likely to exert a drag on GDP growth. Given this backdrop, any reduction in the rate of credit growth must be accompanied by extensive measures to ensure that the productivity of each yuan of credit issued is far higher than in the past.

3. The role of financial sector reform

The three growth challenges described above are diverse, but they are reflections of a single broader issue which is that China’s ability to maintain rapid growth mainly through the mobilization of factors (labor and capital) is decreasing. Much of the high-speed growth of the last decade derived from a rapid increase in labor productivity which was in turn a function of an extremely high investment rate: as the amount of capital per worker grew, the potential output of each worker grew correspondingly (“capital deepening”). But the investment rate, at nearly 49% of GDP in 2011, must surely be close to its peak, since it is already 10 percentage points higher than the maximum rates ever reached by Japan or South Korea. So the amount of labor productivity gain that can be achieved in future by simply adding volume to the capital stock must be far less than during the last decade, when the investment/GDP ratio rose by 10 percentage points.

The obvious corollary is that if China’s ability to achieve rapid gains in labor productivity and economic growth through mobilization of capital is declining, these gains must increasingly be achieved by improved capital efficiency. More specifically, the tightening of the labor supply implied by the demographic transition means that unit labor cost growth will accelerate; all things being equal this means that consumer price inflation will be structurally higher in the next decade than it was for most of the last. This in turn means that nominal interest rates will need to be higher. As the cost of capital rises, the average rate of return on capital must also increase; otherwise a larger share of projects will be loss-making and the drag on economic growth will become pronounced.

On the export side, the dramatic slowdown in the contribution to economic growth from exports means the loss of a certain amount of “easy” productivity gains. Greater productivity of domestic capital could help offset the deceleration in productivity growth from the external sector. Finally, as just noted, the need to arrest or reverse the rapid rise in the credit/GDP ratio means that over the next several years, a given amount of economic growth must be achieved with a smaller amount of credit than in the past—in other words, the average return on capital (for which credit here serves as a proxy) must rise.

Conceptually this is all fairly straightforward. The problem for policy makers is that measuring the “productivity of capital” on an economy-wide basis is not at all straightforward. In principle, one could measure the amount of new GDP created for each incremental increase in the capital stock (the incremental capital output ratio or ICOR). But in practice calculating ICOR is cumbersome, and depends heavily on various assumptions, such as the proper depreciation rate. Moreover, in an industrializing economy like China’s, the ratio of capital stock to GDP tends to rise over time and therefore the ICOR falls; this does not mean that the economy misallocates capital but simply that it experiences capital deepening. Sorting out efficiency effects from capital deepening effects is a vexing task.[5]

A more practical approach is simply to examine the ratio of credit to GDP. There is no one “right” level of credit to GDP, since different economies use different proportions of debt and equity finance. But the trends in the credit to GDP ratio in a single country (assuming there is no major shift in the relative importance of debt and equity finance), which are easily measured, can serve as a useful proxy for trends in the productivity of capital, and provide some broad guidelines for policy.

Figure 1 shows the ratio of total non-financial credit to GDP in China since 1998 (all figures are nominal). Total non-financial credit comprises bank loans, bonds, external foreign currency borrowing, and so-called “shadow financing” extended to the government, households and non-financial corporations; it excludes fund-raising by banks and other financial institutions. This measure is similar to the measure of “total social financing” recently introduced by the People’s Bank of China. 

This shows, as noted previously, that the credit to GDP ratio rose sharply from 160% of GDP in 2008 to 200% in 2010. The current ratio is not abnormally high: many OECD countries have credit/GDP ratios of 250% or so, and Japan’s is around 350%. But it is obvious that the trend increase is worrying: if credit/GDP continues to rise at 20 percentage points a year then by 2015 it would hit 300%, a level much higher than is normal in healthy economies. It seems intuitively clear that to ensure financial stability, policy should target a stabilization or decline in the credit/GDP ratio. Success in this policy would imply that the productivity of credit, and capital more generally, improves.

The large increase in the credit/GDP ratio in 2008-10 is not unprecedented. Following the Asian financial crisis of 1997-98, the total credit stock rose from 143% of GDP in 1998 to 186% in 2003, an increase of 43 percentage points in five years, as a result of government spending on infrastructure and the creation of new consumer lending markets (notably home mortgages). During this period the credit stock grew at an average annual rate of 15.9%, but nominal GDP grew at just 10% a year.

Over the next five years, 2004-08, the average annual growth in total credit decelerated only slightly, to 14.8%. But thanks to a gigantic surge in productivity growth—caused by a combination of the delayed effect of infrastructure spending, deep market reforms (such as the restructuring of the state owned enterprise sector), and a boom in exports—nominal GDP growth surged to an average rate of 18.3%. As a consequence, the credit/GDP ratio declined to 160% in 2008, a decline of 26 percentage points from the peak five years earlier.

This experience shows that, in a developing country like China, it is quite possible to deflate a credit bubble relatively quickly and painlessly. To do so, however, two conditions must be met: the projects financed during the credit bubble must, in the main, be economically productive in the long run even if they cause financial losses in the short run; and structural reforms must accompany or quickly follow the credit expansion, in order to unlock the productivity growth that will enable deleveraging through rapid economic growth rather than through a painful recession. These conditions were clearly met during the 1998-2008 period: the expanded credit of the first five years mainly went to economically useful infrastructure such as highways, telecoms networks and port facilities; and deep structural reforms improved the efficiency of the state sector, expanded opportunities for the private sector, and created a new private housing market. This combination of infrastructure and reforms helped lay the groundwork for the turbo-charged growth of 2004-08.

The credit expansion of 2008-10, following the global financial crisis, was about the same magnitude as the credit expansion of a decade earlier: the credit/GDP ratio rose 40 percentage points, from 160% to 200%. But the expansion was much more rapid (occurring over two years instead of five), and while the bulk of credit probably did finance economically productive infrastructure, there is evidence that the sheer speed of the credit expansion led to far greater financial losses. A large proportion of the new borrowing was done by local government window corporations, often with little or no collateral and in many cases with no likelihood of project cash flows ever being large enough to service the loans. A plausible estimate of eventual losses on these loans to local governments is Rmb2-3 trn, or 4-7% of 2011 GDP.

Furthermore, whereas in the late 1990s restructuring of the state enterprise sector and creation of the private housing market took off at the same time the government began to expand credit, the 2008-10 credit expansion occurred without any significant accompanying structural reforms. In sum we have significantly less reason to be confident about the foundations for economic growth over the next five years than would have been the case in 2003.

On the assumption that the trend rate of nominal GDP growth over the next five years is likely be quite a bit less than in 2003-08, just how difficult will it be for China to stabilize or better yet reduce the credit to GDP ratio? For the purposes of analysis, Figure 1 proposes two scenarios. Both assume that nominal GDP will grow at an average rate of 13% in 2012-2015 (combining real growth of 7.5% a year with economy-wide inflation of 5.5%). The “stabilization” scenario assumes that total credit grows at the same 13% rate, stabilizing the credit/GDP ratio at around 200%. The “deleveraging” scenario assumes that credit growth falls to 9.5% a year, enabling a reduction in the credit/GDP ratio of 25 percentage points to 175%--about the same magnitude as the reduction of 2003-08.

A quick glance suggests that achieving either of these two outcomes will be far more difficult than in the previous deleveraging episode. In 2003-08, the average annual rate of credit growth was just one percentage point lower than during the credit bubble of 1998-2003. In other words, the work of deleveraging was accomplished almost entirely through economic growth, rather than through any material constraint on credit.

In the three years following the global financial crisis, by contrast, total credit expanded by 22.7% a year, generating nominal GDP growth of 14.1% on average. The required drop in average annual credit growth is 10 percentage points under the stabilization scenario and 13 points under the deleveraging scenario, while nominal GDP growth declines by only a point. In other words, this episode is likely to be the reverse of the 2003-08 episode: deleveraging will need to come almost entirely from a constraint on credit, rather than from economic growth.



Another way of looking at this is to examine the relationship between incremental credit and incremental GDP—that is, how many yuan of new GDP arise with each new yuan of credit. This calculation is presented in Figure 2. This shows that in 1998-2003 each Rmb1 of new credit generated Rmb0.39 of new GDP; this figure rose to 0.72 in 2003-08, an 84% increase in the productivity of credit. The GDP payoff from new credit in 2008-10 was far worse than in 1998-2003. Simply to stabilize the credit/GDP ratio at its current level will require a 73% increase in credit productivity. To achieve the deleveraging scenario, a 150% improvement will be required.

The good news is that under the deleveraging scenario, the average productivity of credit in 2011-2015 only needs to be the same as it was in 2003-08. In principle, this should be achievable. But as previously noted, the mechanism of improvement needs to be quite different this time round. In 2003-08, the productivity of credit rose because credit growth remained roughly constant while GDP growth surged, thanks to structural reforms that accelerated returns to both capital and labor. Over the next several years, by contrast, the best that can be hoped for is that GDP growth will remain roughly constant. Consequently any improvement in credit productivity must come from constraining the issuance of new credit, while substantially raising the efficiency of credit allocation and hence the returns to credit.

What are the main mechanisms for improving the efficiency of credit, and of financial capital more generally? Broadly speaking, there are two: diversification of credit channels, and more market-based pricing of credit. Historically most credit has been issued by large state-owned banks, which are subject to political pressure in their lending decisions, and the majority of credit has gone to state-owned enterprises. Diversifying the channels of credit to include a broader range of financial institutions, a more vigorous bond market, and even by encouraging the creation of dedicated small- and medium-size enterprise lending units within the big banks, should improve credit allocation by giving greater credit access to borrowers who were previously shut out simply by virtue of a lack of political connections. Over the past decade government policy has been broadly supportive of the diversification of credit channels: specialized consumer credit, leasing and trust companies have been allowed to flourish, and there is some anecdotal evidence that SME lending at the state owned banks has begun to pick up steam.

The government has been far more reluctant, however, to embrace systematic measures for improving the pricing of credit. Bank interest rates remain captive to the policy of regulated deposit rates. Guaranteed low deposit rates means that banks have little incentive to seek out and properly price riskier assets, and are content to earn a fat spread on relatively conservative loan books. Bond markets, which in more developed economies form the basis for pricing of financial risk, are in China large in primary issuance, but small in trading volumes. The majority of bonds are purchased by banks and other financial institutions and held to maturity, make them indistinguishable from bank loans. Active secondary market trading by a wide range of participants is the essential mechanism by which bond prices become the basis for financial risk pricing.

4. Conclusions and recommendations

China still has potential for another decade of relatively high speed growth, but a combination of structural factors means that “high speed” in future likely means a trend GDP growth rate of around 7%, well below the historic average of 10%. Moreover, a combination of negative trends in demographics and the external sector, and the need to constrain credit growth after the enormous credit expansion of 2008-2010, mean the obstacles to realizing this potential growth rate are quite large. In order to overcome these obstacles, the efficiency of credit, and of capital more generally, must be improved. A large increase in credit efficiency was achieved in the previous economic deleveraging episode of 2003-08, but that increase in efficiency resulted mainly from an acceleration in GDP growth due to capital deepening, rather than from a constraint on credit. Over the next several years, the best that can plausibly be achieved is a stabilization of nominal GDP growth at approximately the current level. Any increase in credit efficiency must therefore come from a constraint on credit growth and direct improvements in credit allocation, rather than from capital-intensive economic growth.

In order to achieve this improvement in credit efficiency, three improvements to China’s financial architecture are urgently needed. First, the diversification of financial channels should continue to be expanded, notably through the acceptance and proper regulation of so-called “shadow financing” activities, which reflect market pressure for higher returns to depositors and greater credit availability (at appropriate prices) for riskier borrowers. Second, the ceiling on bank deposit rates should gradually be lifted and ultimately abolished, in order to give banks incentives for increased lending at appropriate prices to riskier borrowers who (it is to be hoped) will deliver a higher risk-adjusted rate of return than current borrowers. Third, steps should be taken to increase secondary trading on bond markets, in order to enable these markets to assume their appropriate role as the basis of financial risk pricing. Particular stress should be laid on diversifying the universe of financial institutions permitted to trade on bond markets, to include pension funds, specialized fixed-income mutual funds and other institutional investors with a vested interest in active trading to maximize both short- and long-term returns.

 

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Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney has been strategically slippery about his tax plan, largely refusing to explain how he would pay for the sweeping tax cuts that represent his primary promise to voters.

In the second debate, though, he offered just enough detail for us to sketch the outlines of his program. If you’re poor or worried about the state of the U.S. government’s finances, the picture is not pretty.

The first course in Romney’s plan is dessert: Tax breaks for everyone! He would start by extending the tax cuts put in place by former President George W. Bush. He would then cut everyone’s rates by another 20 percent, repeal the alternative minimum tax, and get rid of the estate tax.

How would he pay for this? Mainly by limiting the amount people can deduct from their taxable income. Here’s the most detailed statement Romney has made: “One way of doing that would be say everybody gets—I’ll pick a number—$25,000 of deductions and credits, and you can decide which ones to use. Your home mortgage interest deduction, charity, child tax credit and so forth, you can use those as part of filling that bucket, if you will, of deductions.”

Big Shortfall

Putting both halves of Romney’s plan together, we compared the impact of the tax cuts with the offsetting effect of limiting itemized deductions. The result: While a cap on deductions is an interesting idea, it couldn’t possibly raise enough revenue to make up for the big tax giveaways Romney has promised. The shortfall would be a whopping $3.7 trillion over the next decade. Lowering the deduction limit to, say, $17,000 wouldn’t much change the math. The gap would still be $3.4 trillion.

Romney’s plan is most striking in its distributional implications (see chart). The greatest benefit would go to the rich. The top one-fifth of households would enjoy a staggering $16,000 average tax cut, offset by a tax increase of $4,000 due to the deduction cap. Net gain: $12,000. Actually, though, most of this group wouldn’t see that large of a benefit. About half of the spoils would go directly to the top 1 percent, which would get an average net tax cut of $100,000 a year.

The further one goes down the income scale, the worse Romney’s plan looks. The average household in the middle of the income distribution—the heart of the middle class—would get a cut of a little more than $800, which wouldn’t be much changed by the limit on deductions. The poor would actually pay slightly more tax, because Romney would end stimulus-related measures—such as an expansion of the Earned Income Tax Credit—that have benefited them.

True, any across-the-board tax cut would give more money to the rich in dollar terms, because they pay most of the taxes in the first place. But Romney’s plan goes further. It would reduce the amount the richest Americans pay relative to their income more than for anyone else. Specifically, the richest fifth would go from paying 26 percent of their income in taxes to 22 percent. The middle fifth would go from 16 percent to 15 percent. The tax burden on the poor would rise.

Romney has explicitly denied that his tax plan would favor the rich: “I will not, under any circumstances, reduce the share that’s being paid by the highest-income taxpayers.”

If this was truly his intention, he could have proposed tax cuts that were proportional to income—say, by offering simply to cut everyone’s tax rates by a few percentage points, rather than by a certain percentage. This would give the rich a bigger tax cut in dollar terms while preserving the distributional structure of our tax system.

Benefit Distribution

As it stands, Romney’s plan would result in 48 percent of the net tax cut going to the richest 1 percent (see pie chart). Another 32 percent would go to the next richest 4 percent of the population. All told, 94 percent of the benefit would go to the top 10 percent of the income distribution, leaving only 6 percent for the rest.

Many of Romney’s biggest boosters argue that he would be a more moderate president than he has been a candidate. Perhaps that’s plausible. On taxes, though, he has left himself little room to maneuver. His constituency would expect him to deliver on the very specific tax cuts he has promised. Meanwhile, his vagueness on the offsetting deduction limits would leave him with no mandate to get rid of the most popular tax breaks, such as those for charitable giving, mortgage interest or health insurance.

Hence, the most probable outcome would be a tax system that is radically less progressive, achieved through cuts that would create a much larger long-run budget deficit. Both outcomes would be colossal failures at a time in which true tax reform is greatly needed.

      

      

       

Editors’ Note: In a recent interview with Foreign Policy Interrupted, Tamara Wittes was asked about how the situation in the Middle East has changed since she published her 2008 book Freedom’s Unsteady March. Five years after the Arab uprisings and the start of the Syrian civil war, and a year and a half after the Islamic State captured Mosul (along with the world’s attention), Tamara says that many of the same fundamental dynamics in the Middle East are still at work.

The situation in the region has changed so dramatically since then, but I think that the fundamental insights that informed that book remain true. The underlying drivers of change in the Middle East are still there in terms of the demographic drivers, the economic drivers, the technological drivers that I described in the book; they are all still present.

Although there’s a lot of disorder and a lot of violence, and that leads people on the ground to prioritize security and to search for security in different ways, that doesn’t mean that they’re going to be satisfied. It doesn’t mean that the, “well, at least it’s not ISIS” line is going to suffice for governments in the Middle East for very long.

The underlying drivers of change are still present, the pressure for change is still present, and a lot of those pressures are about the simple fact of individual empowerment. Expectations shifted, and people, individuals, have the ability to act in ways that they didn’t before. States and governments have to accommodate that. It’s affecting politics all over the world, and the Middle East is not immune.

So the question becomes: how are governments going to learn to accommodate that and turn it into a strength? I think that the United States does have a really important role to play there. There were mistakes that the Bush administration made—setting aside his vision of Iraq, which has of course been very thoroughly discussed and assessed. But even in terms of non-military intervention to try to advance reform, the critique I made in the book is that the Bush administration was overly focused on political process and elections in particular. I think that one of the other lessons that has come of recent years is that the United States and other Western countries get very focused on political institutions and think, well, if we set up a judicial system, and we set up a parliament, and a constitution, then the gears in the machine sort of start to turn, the states start to function. Look at the rebuilding efforts in Afghanistan, for example.

But what we see in the Middle East today is that formal institutions aren’t enough. People have to have trust in the institutions, and people and communities have to have sufficient agreement on the basic rules of the game to make those institutions legitimate and authoritative. And that’s what’s missing in a lot of places around the region right now, that there isn’t enough dialogue and debate and ultimately negotiated agreement on the basic rules of the game. So I think that the challenge for the United States and others who care about stability in the Middle East going forward is how to help cultivate platforms for that kind of dialogue, and how to help cultivate the skills and the mechanisms for resolving very fundamental questions about how government should be organized and what should be the role of religion and politics, and what’s the balance between individual rights and collective identity.

These are big, big, questions, and right now, in too many places, they are being fought over violently. But the questions still have to be answered, and so the challenge is helping develop ways to do that, to do it peacefully.

       

       

The weakness of the economic recovery in advanced economies raises questions about the ability of new technologies to drive growth. After all, in the years since the global financial crisis, consumers in advanced economies have adopted new technologies such as mobile Internet services, and companies have invested in big data and cloud computing. More than 1 billion smartphones have been sold around the world, making it one of the most rapidly adopted technologies ever. Yet nations such as the United States that lead the world in technology adoption are seeing only middling GDP growth and continue to struggle with high unemployment.

There are many reasons for the restrained expansion, not least of which is the severity of the recession, which wiped out trillions of dollars of wealth and more than 7 million US jobs. Relatively weak consumer demand since the end of the recession in 2009 has restrained hiring and there are also structural issues at play, including a growing mismatch between the increasingly technical needs of employers and the skills available in the labor force. And technology itself plays a role: companies continue to invest in labor-saving technologies that reduce demand for less-skilled workers.

So are we witnessing a failure of technology? Our answer is "no." Over the longer term, in fact, we see that technology continues to drive productivity and growth, a pattern that has been evident since the Industrial Revolution; steam power, mass-produced steel, and electricity drove successive waves of growth, which has continued into the 21st century with semiconductors and the Internet. Today, we see a dozen rapidly-evolving technology areas that have the potential for economic disruption as well in the next decade. They fall into four groups: IT and how we use it; machines that work for us; energy; and the building blocks of everything (next-gen genomics and synthetic biology).

Wide ranging impacts

These disruptive technologies not only have potential for economic impact—hundreds of billions per year and even trillions for the applications we have sized—but also are broad-based (affecting many people and industries) and have transformative effects: they can alter the status quo and create opportunities for new competitors.

While these technologies will contribute to productivity and growth, we must look at economic impact in a broader sense, which includes measures of surplus created and value shifted (for instance from producers to consumers, which has been a common result of Internet adoption). The greatest benefit we measured for autonomous vehicles—cars and trucks that can proceed from point A to point B with little or no human intervention. The largest economic impact we sized for autonomous vehicles is the enormous benefit to consumers that may be possible by reducing accidents caused by human error by 70 to 90 percent. That could translate into hundreds of billions a year in economic value by 2025.

Predicting how quickly even the most disruptive technologies will affect productivity is difficult. When the first commercial microprocessor appeared there was no such thing as a microcomputer—marketers at Intel thought traffic signal controllers might be a leading application for their chip. Today we see that social technologies, which have changed how people interact with friends and family and have provided new ways for marketers to connect with consumers, may have a much larger impact as a way to raise productivity in organizations by improving communication, knowledge-sharing, and collaboration.

There are also lags and displacements as new technologies are adopted and their effects on productivity are felt. Over the next decade, advances in robotics may make it possible to automate assembly jobs that require more dexterity than machines have provided or are assumed to be more economical to carry out with low-cost labor. Advances in artificial intelligence, big data, and user interfaces (e.g., computers that can interpret ordinary speech) make it possible to automate many knowledge worker tasks.

More good than bad

There are clearly challenges for societies and economies as disruptive technologies take hold, but the long-term effects, we believe, will continue to be higher productivity and growth across sectors and nations. In earlier work, for example, we looked at the relationship between productivity and employment, which are generally believed to be in conflict (i.e., when productivity rises, employment falls). And clearly, in the short term this can happen as employers find that they can substitute machinery for labor—especially if other innovations in the economy do not create demand for labor in other areas. However, if you look at the data for productivity and employment for longer periods—over decades, for example—you see that productivity and job growth do rise in tandem.

This does not mean that labor-saving technologies do not cause dislocations, but they also eventually create new opportunities. For example, the development of highly flexible and adaptable robots will require skilled workers on the shop floor who can program these machines and work out new routines as requirements change. And the same types of tools that can be used to automate knowledge worker tasks such as finding information can also be used to augment the powers of knowledge workers, potentially creating new types of jobs.

Over the next decade it will become clearer how these technologies will be used to raise productivity and growth. There will be surprises along the way—when mass-produced steel became practical in the 19th century nobody could predict how it would enable the automobile industry in the 20th. And there will be societal challenges that policy makers will need to address, for example by making sure that educational systems keep up with the demands of the new technologies.

For business leaders the emergence of disruptive technologies can open up great new possibilities and can also lead to new threats—disruptive technologies have a habit of creating new competitors and undermining old business models. Incumbents will want to ensure their organizations continue to look forward and think long-term. Leaders themselves will need to know how technologies work and see to it that tech- and IT-savvy employees are included in every function and every team. Businesses and other institutions will need new skill sets and cannot assume that the talent they need will be available in the labor market.

       

       

       

       

You were probably just thinking to yourself that the civil war in Syria isn’t complicated enough, that there aren’t enough warring parties, and that the constantly shifting sides have become predictable and tired. Well, don’t despair, there are now rumors emerging out of Turkey that may introduce enough new dimensions to the conflict to keep you confused well into the next decade.

The Turkish press is reporting that the Turkish government may be about to invade Syria along a 70-mile stretch of Turkey’s border with Syria to create a 20-mile deep safe zone. This issue is currently the subject of heated speculation and controversy in Ankara, making it quite difficult to figure out what is really happening.

But beyond the fevered speculation, why would Turkey want to invade Syria anyway?

Syria has long been a threatening mess, but neither Turkey nor anyone else has exactly been lining up to send their national armies into Syria. Sure, foreign fighters are plentiful in Syria and all of the regional powers, as well as the United States and Russia, have supported proxies there. But even after more than four years of bloody, destabilizing warfare, national armies have avoided it like the plague. The reason is quite simple: The complicated Syrian civil war has quagmire written all over it. As hard as it is to send a foreign army into Syria, it would be harder still to get it out.

In Turkey, particularly, the idea of military intervention into Syria remains very unpopular among the populace. The possibility that intervention might backfire and unleash Islamic State (or ISIS) terrorism within Turkey, or even reignite the bloody Kurdish insurgency in Turkey’s southeast, remains an ever-present fear.

Now, however, the theory goes that Syrian Kurdish advances against ISIS have caused such concern in Turkey that the Kurds will create some sort of state or autonomous region along Turkey’s southern border. To prevent that outcome, the Turkish government, we are told, is finally willing to intervene in Syria.

Well, maybe. But, in our view, the reason that Turkey might now finally be contemplating such a step says more about changes in the domestic and international standing of the Turkish government than about the course of events in Syria.

Domestically, the outcome of the Turkish election of June 7 has seriously scrambled Turkish politics. After nearly 13 years in power, the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) lost its absolute majority in parliament. The AKP, which still holds a plurality of seats in parliament, has 45 days to form a government with at least one of the minority parties. But it seems clear that Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has very little interest in coalition government. The leaders of the two main opposition parties, the nationalist Nationalist Action Party (MHP) and the center-left Republican Peoples Party (CHP), have both demanded the re-opening of corruption cases against the AKP. Erdoğan may fear that those corruption cases may eventually touch even his family.

Erdoğan would undoubtedly prefer an early election to subjecting his party or even his family to the indignities of prying prosecutors. But to achieve a better outcome than the AKP managed in June, he needs to demonstrate to the population the pitfalls of weak, coalition governments. As the possibility of intervention in Syria increases, as the markets spooks on the prospects of war, and even if a few bombs were to go off in the Kurdish areas, the growing sense of national insecurity would only serve to make Erdoğan’s case that the country needs the firm hand of one-party leadership. With a big enough victory, it might even serve to bring back prospects of constitutional change to increase the powers of the presidency. At that point, an early election would be worth having.

Insecurity works

Internationally, Turkey may be driven by the sense the White House now prefers their Kurdish partners in Syria to Turkey. The Turkish government is extremely angry about the emerging alliance between the United States and the Syrian Kurds, especially the Kurdish Democratic Union Party (PYD), a Syrian affiliate of the Turkish Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK). They attribute Kurdish success against ISIS to the American willingness to support Syrian Kurdish forces with air power and supplies. In the Turkish view, the PYD is simply a branch of the PKK, which both Turkey and the United States have branded a terrorist group. Allowing the PYD to unite the Kurdish areas of Syria would therefore represent an existential threat to Turkey.  

By threatening to intervene in Syria, the Turkish government seeks to change a U.S. policy that it finds potentially very damaging to Turkish interests. As Erdoğan no doubt reminded Vice President Biden when they talked the other day, Turkey has the ability to have a far greater impact on the fight against ISIS than the Kurds do. (The Turkish government might tell their domestic audiences that a prospective intervention in Syria is to stop the Kurds, but they will tell international audiences that it is to fight ISIS.)

Interestingly, to achieve both these international and domestic advantages, it is not necessary or even wise to actually go through with the intervention. Domestically, all that is necessary is to convince the population that the situation is sufficiently insecure to require firm, one-party leadership. Internationally, it just requires using the prospect of intervention to gain U.S. attention and convince the U.S. government to reduce its support of the PYD. At the current moment, the prospect of intervention is very useful for the Turkish government. Actual intervention, with all of the attendant risks of quagmire, is significantly less appealing.

So that means that it is probably not strictly necessary to spend your time trying to understand how the myriad factions within Syria will respond to the presence of the Turkish military on Syrian soil. On the bright side, you now have some really good reasons to enter into the nearly as confusing realm of Turkish domestic politics. Maybe start with our Turkish election series.

For another take on this issue, see the post from Kemal Kirisci and Sinan Ekim. 

       

This weekend’s election results in Turkey were a surprise to the vast majority of Turkish pollsters and pundits, myself included. The ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) won nearly 50 percent of the popular vote. The party can now form a single-party government, even if it doesn’t have the supermajority necessary to remake the Turkish constitution. What happened?

Now I see clearly

As with much in life, the result does make sense in hindsight. Prior to the June 7 election, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and the AKP leadership had supported a Kurdish peace process, in part in the hope of gaining Kurdish votes. In that election, however, not only did the AKP fail to win new Kurdish votes, but support for the Nationalist Action Party (MHP)—a far-right Turkish nationalist party—swelled, apparently out of frustration among nationalist Turks with the AKP-led peace process with the Kurds. In other words, the AKP had the worst of both worlds.

Erdoğan and the AKP leadership, recognizing the political problem this posed for them, allowed the peace process to collapse amid mounting instability driven by the Syrian civil war. This, combined with disillusionment with the MHP leadership due to their perceived unwillingness to form a coalition government, drove about two million MHP voters to the AKP this weekend. The exodus shows, in a sense, what close substitutes the two parties can be among a more nationalist voting bloc.

The controlled chaos that resulted from the collapse of the peace process—combined with the escalating refugee crisis, the fear of ISIS attacks, and the struggling economy—helped the government politically. Voters evidently recalled that it had been the AKP that brought the country out of the very tough times of the 1990s.  

In contrast, the opposition parties seem to lack leadership and appear to promise only internal squabbles and indecisiveness. Craving security and stability, voters have now turned to the one party that appears to have the strength to provide it. In that sense, Erdoğan’s nationalist gambit—which was actually a well-conceived series of political maneuvers—worked. Even some one million conservative Kurdish voters returned to the AKP.

These voters perhaps did not notice the irony that the government had also engineered the instability they feared. In part, this success derives from government’s control over the media. These elections may have been free, in the sense that Turkish voters can cast a ballot for the candidates they want. But they were not fair. The state maintained tight control over traditional and social media alike. Freedom House and the Committee to Protect Journalists, among others, have cast doubt on Turkey’s press freedom credentials. Real opposition voices are difficult for media publish or voters to see on television. Thus, for example, Selahattin Demirtaş, the leader of the pro-Kurdish Peoples' Democratic Party (HDP) and the most charismatic opposition politician in Turkey, had essentially no air time during the campaign.

Not all bad news

There are some important upsides to the election results. For one, HDP again passed the 10 percent threshold to remain in parliament. That will help mitigate—though hardly erase—the polarization that grips the country, and will hopefully make government reconsider its abandonment of the Kurdish peace process.

More significantly, the AKP does not have what it needs to convert Turkey’s government structure into a presidential system, which would be a bad move for the country. The election results will undoubtedly revitalize Erdoğan’s push for a presidential regime in Turkey. But that requires changing the constitution, and the AKP did not achieve the supermajority that it would need to do that on its own.

Critically, changing to a presidential system will require some support from the opposition and even more importantly popular support via a referendum. As political strategists around the world have learned, people tend not to vote on the actual referendum item, per se, but based on more general opinions of their leadership. So to win a referendum on the presidential system, Erdoğan and his AKP colleagues would need to show improvements in the economy, in the security situation, on the Kurdish issue, on Syrian refugees, and on national stability more generally. Instability in Turkey, particularly the renewal of violence in the Kurdish region, will deter investment and deepen the economic slump throughout the country.

With its new majority, AKP leaders are now in a position of strength to negotiate with the HDP over Kurdish issues. The refugee crisis also means the government also has more leverage with the EU. If it chooses to use its strength to reach positive agreements on those fronts, the outcomes could be very good for the Turkish people.

To actually win a referendum on the presidential system, Erdoğan would have to work to depolarize his country. While the presidential system itself would not be good for Turkey, the process of getting there might be.

       

       

       

       

        

Hillary Clinton was not ready on day one.

The autopsies of her defeat for the Democratic nomination contest all point to a series of early blunders by her campaign. Her campaign plan was simple: leverage her name recognition, early money lead, and organization to win the Super-Tuesday contests, thereby wrapping up the Democratic nomination in early February. As the inevitable winner, she could be the centrist candidate on the Iraq war and tout her experience as a problem solver.

But her over-confident and over-priced campaign consultants failed to recognize that in a “change” election, caucus attenders were not excited by an Iraq war centrist who also happened to be a Washington insider. Clinton’s lack of a plan to effectively contest the caucuses allowed Barack Obama to win what would be the all important delegate race, and more importantly, give him the mantle of momentum while she appeared mired in the mud at a crucial mid-February stage of the campaign.

But she was ready on day two.

She hit her stride late in the game by impressively winning a series of primary contests. All the more remarkable: she did so on a shoestring election-to-election budget while the media wrote her off as a spoiler. With a newfound voice that emphasized she was a populist who would fight for the people, her new message resonated particularly well as the economy continued to falter.

Unfortunately, by the time she retooled her message and got rid of the people who had driven her campaign into the ditch— campaign manager Patti Solis Doyle and chief strategist Mark Penn—it was already too late. Obama had built a nearly insurmountable lead in the delegate count.

It is here that the rules matter.

If states had not moved up or “frontloaded” the date of their primaries and caucuses, under the misimpression that doing so would give them a greater voice in the 2008 nomination, Clinton might be the Democratic nominee.

She would have received more delegates from Florida and Michigan, two states that she would have likely won if all Democratic candidates had vigorously campaigned, but was denied a full slate because these states violated party rules by holding their elections too early. Counting these contests was important for her delegate count and to her argument that she had won more popular votes than Obama.

If states had not frontloaded their primaries and caucuses, she would have recovered from her early stumbles before it was too late. She would have minimized damage from her disastrous February, when Obama racked up an impressive string of victories even in Virginia, where she might have done better given her later strength.

The irony is that Clinton was expected to benefit from frontloading. Only a candidate with name recognition, money, and organization could compete. Lesser candidates like Joe Biden, Chris Dodd, Mike Gravel, Dennis Kucinich, Bill Richardson and even John Edwards would be quickly weeded out of the field, leaving her with only one real opponent to dispense with.

The lesson is that frontloading does not well serve the nomination process. Running for president is an unrehearsed drill. Mistakes will be made. Candidates become better as they learn how to campaign and to craft messages that work. Democratic Party leaders will undoubtedly look hard over the next four years at what steps can be taken to even out the flow of the nomination contests.

While these lessons may resound loudly for Democrats, they apply equally well to Republicans. Democrats permitted the process to play out over a longer time by awarding delegates proportionately; Republicans brought their nomination to a faster close by awarding delegates by winner-take-all. John McCain became the inevitable winner of his party’s nomination without even winning a state’s vote majority before his opponents dropped like flies.

While Republicans have delighted in the continued fight among the Democrats, McCain has been in a holding pattern since winning his nomination. Unable to use his time effectively to make headway with the American public, he has incurred problems in his own party. As evidence, 30 percent of South Dakota and Montana Republican primary voters registered a protest vote by voting for someone else.

Perhaps McCain won his party’s nomination too soon. He lost to George Bush in 2000 and has yet to demonstrate that he can run an effective general election campaign. He would have benefited from being more strongly tested, making more mistakes, and learning from them in the primary season. Now, he and his campaign will have to learn on the job in the general election, while they face, in Obama, an opponent who has been tempered in his party’s nomination fire stoked by Clinton.

Plenty of time remains for McCain to make his mistakes and for Obama to make more—and for both to recover before November. Campaigns often become so knee-jerk reactive to criticisms of any mistake that they fail to recognize the value in the lessons that may be learned. The primary election season is thus a valuable period for candidates to plumb their strengths and shore up their weaknesses, and we need to find a way to restore it as such.

      

Federal departments and agencies received just above $133 billion in R&D funds in 2013. To put that figure in perspective, World Bank data for 2013 shows that, 130 countries had a GDP below that level; U.S. R&D is larger than the entire economy of 60 percent of all countries in the world.

The chart below shows how those funds are allocated among the most important federal departments and agencies in terms of R&D.

Those looking at these figures for the first time may be surprised to see that the Department of Defense takes about half of the pie. It should be noted however that not all federal R&D is destined to preserve U.S. military preeminence in the world. From non-defense research, 42 percent is destined to the much-needed research conducted by the National Institutes of Health, 17 percent to the research of the Department of Energy—owner of 17 celebrated national laboratories—16 percent for space exploration, and 8 percent for understanding the natural and social worlds at a fundamental level. The balance category is only lumped together for visual display not for its importance; it includes for instance the significant work of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and the National Institute of Standards and Technology.

Despite the impressive size of defense R&D, we hear little about it. While much of defense research and development is classified, in time, civilian applications find their way into mainstream commercial uses—the Internet and GPS emerged from research done at DARPA. Far more visible than defense R&D is biomedical research, clean energy research, or news about truly impressive discoveries either in distant galaxies or in the depths of our oceans.

What produces this asymmetry of visibility of federal R&D work?

In a recent Brookings paper, a colleague and I suggest that the answer lies in the prominence of R&D in the agencies’ accounting books. In short: How visible is R&D and how much the agency seeks to discuss it in public fora depends not on the relative importance, but on how large a portion of the agency’s budget is dedicated to R&D.

From a budget perspective, we identified two types of agencies performing R&D: those agencies whose main mission is to perform research and development, and those agencies that perform many functions in addition to R&D. For the former, the share of R&D in the discretionary budget is consistently high, while for the latter group, R&D is only a small part of their total budget (see the chart below). This distinction influences how agencies will argue for their R&D money, because they will make their case on the most important uses of their budget. If agencies have a low R&D share, they will keep it mixed with other functions and programs; for instance, research efforts will be justified only as supporting the main agency mission. In turn, agencies with a high R&D share must argue for their budgets highlighting the social outcomes of their work. These include three agencies whose primary mission is research (NASA, NSF, NIH), and a fourth (DoE) where research is a significant element of its mission.

There is little question that the four agencies with high R&D share produce greatly beneficial research for society. Their strategy of promoting their work publicly is not only smart budget politics but also civic and pedagogical in the sense of helping taxpayers understand that their tax dollars are well-spent. However, it is interesting to observe that other agencies may be producing research of equal social impact that flies under the public radar, mainly because those agencies prefer as a matter of good budget policy to keep a low profile for their R&D work.

One interesting conclusion for institutional design from this analysis is that promoting a research agency to the level of departments of government or its director to a cabinet rank position may bring prominence to its research, not because more and better research will necessarily get done but simply because that agency will seek public recognition for their work in order to justify its budget. Likewise, placing a research agency within a larger department may help conceal and protect their R&D funding; the politics of the department will focus on its main goals and R&D would recede to a concern of secondary interest in political battles.

In the Politics of Federal R&D we discuss in more detail the changing politics of budget and how R&D agencies can respond. The general strategies of concealment and self-promotion are likely to become more important for agencies to protect a steady growth of their research and development budgets.

Data sources: R&D data from the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences historical trends in Federal R&D. Total non-discretionary spending by federal agency from the Office of Management and Budget.

       

A review essay of “Governance of Socio-technical Systems: Explaining Change”, edited by Susana Borrás and Jakob Edler (Edward Elgar, 2014, 207 pages).

Phasing-out a useful and profitable technology

I own a Nokia 2330; it’s a small brick phone that fits comfortably in the palm of my hand. People have feelings about this: mostly, they marvel at my ability to survive without a smart-phone. Concerns go beyond my wellbeing; once a friend protested that I should be aware of the costs I impose onto my friends, for instance, by asking them for precise directions to their houses. Another suggested that I cease trying to be smarter than my phone. But my reason is simple: I don’t need a smart phone. Most of the time, I don’t even need a mobile phone. I can take and place calls from my home or my office. And who really needs a phone during their commute? Still, my device will meet an untimely end. My service provider has informed me via text message that it will phase out all 2G service and explicitly encouraged me to acquire a 3G or newer model. 

There is a correct if simplistic explanation for this announcement: my provider is not making enough money with my account and should I switch to a newer device, they will be able to sell me a data plan. The more accurate and more complex explanation is that my mobile device is part of a communications system that is integrated to other economic and social systems. As those other systems evolve, my device is becoming incompatible with them; my carrier has determined that I should be integrated.

The system integration is easy to understand from a business perspective. My carrier may very well be able to make a profit keeping my account as is, and the accounts of the legion of elderly and low-income customers who use similar devices, and still they may not find it advantageous in the long run to allow 2G devices in their network. To understand this business strategy, we need to go back no farther than the introduction of the iPhone, which in addition to being the most marketable mobile phone set a new standard platform for mobile devices. Its introduction accelerated a trend underway in the core business of carriers: the shift from voice communication to data streaming because smart phones can support layers of overlapping services that depend on fast and reliable data transfer. These services include sophisticated log capabilities, web search, geo-location, connectivity to other devices, and more recently added bio-monitoring. All those services are part of systems of their own, so it makes perfect business sense for carriers to seamlessly integrate mobile communications with all those other systems. Still, the economic rationale explains only a fraction of the systems integration underway.

The communication system of mobile telephony is also integrated with regulatory, social, and cultural systems. Consider the most mundane examples: It’s hard to imagine anyone who, having shifted from paper-and-pencil to an electronic agenda, decided to switch back afterwards. We are increasingly dependent of GPS services; while it may have once served tourists who did not wish to learn how to navigate a new city, it is now a necessity for many people who without it are lost in their home town. Not needing to remember phone numbers, the time of our next appointment, or how to go back to that restaurant we really liked, is a clear example of the integration of mobile devices into our value systems.

There are coordination efforts and mutual accommodation taking place: tech designers seek to adapt to changing values and we update our values to the new conveniences of slick gadgets. Government officials are engaged in the same mutual accommodation. They are asking how many phone booths must be left in public places, how to reach more people with public service announcements, and how to provide transit information in real-time when commuters need it. At the same time, tech designers are considering all existing regulations so their devices are compliant. Communication and regulatory systems are constantly being re-integrated.

The will behind systems integration

The integration of technical and social systems that results from innovation demands an enormous amount of planning, effort, and conflict resolution. The people involved in this process come from all quarters of the innovation ecology, including inventors, entrepreneurs, financiers, and government officials. Each of these agents may not be able to contemplate the totality of the system integration problem but they more or less understand how their respective system must evolve so as to be compatible with interrelated systems that are themselves evolving.  There is a visible willfulness in the integration task that scholars of innovation call the governance of socio-technical systems.

Introducing the term governance, I should emphasize that I do not mean merely the actions of governments or the actions of entrepreneurs. Rather, I mean the effort of all agents involved in the integration and re-integration of systems triggered by innovation; I mean all the coordination and mutual accommodation of agents from interrelated systems. And there is no single vehicle to transport all the relevant information for these agents. A classic representation of markets suggests that prices carry all the relevant information agents need to make optimal decisions. But it is impossible to project this model onto innovation because, as I suggested above, it does not adhere exclusively to economic logic; cultural and political values are also at stake. The governance task is therefore fragmented into pieces and assigned to each of the participants of the socio-technical systems involved, and they cannot resolve it as a profit-maximization problem. 

Instead, the participants must approach governance as a problem of design where the goal could be characterized as reflexive adaptation. By adaptation I mean seeking to achieve inter-system compatibility. By reflexive I mean that each actor must realize that their actions trigger adaption measures in other systems. Thus, they cannot passively adapt but rather they must anticipate the sequence of accommodations in the interaction with other agents. This is one of the most important aspects of the governance problem, because all too often neither technical nor economic criteria will suffice; quite regularly coordination must be negotiated, which is to say, innovation entails politics.

The idea of governance of socio-technical systems is daunting. How do we even begin to understand it? What kinds of modes of governance exist? What are the key dimensions to understand the integration of socio-technical systems? And perhaps more pressing, who prevails in disputes about coordination and accommodation? Fortunately, Susana Borrás, from the Copenhagen Business School, and Jakob Edler, from the University of Manchester, both distinguished professors of innovation, have collected a set of case studies that shed light on these problems in an edited volume entitled Governance of Socio-technical Change: Explaining Change. What is more, they offer a very useful conceptual framework of governance that is worth reviewing here. While this volume will be of great interest to scholars of innovation—and it is written in scholarly language—I think it has great value for policymakers, entrepreneurs, and all agents involved in a practical manner in the work of innovation.

Organizing our thinking on the governance of change

The first question that Borrás and Edler tackle is how to characterize the different modes of governance. They start out with a heuristic typology across the two central categories: what kinds of agents drive innovation and how the actions of these agents are coordinated. Agents can represent the state or civil society, and actions can be coordinated via dominant or non-dominant hierarchies.

	Change led by state actors	Change led by societal actors
Coordination by dominant hierarchies	Traditional deference to technocratic competence: command and control.	Monopolistic or oligopolistic industrial organization.
Coordination by non-dominant hierarchies	State agents as primus inter pares.	More competitive industries with little government oversight.

Source: Adapted from Borrás and Adler (2015), Table 1.2, p. 13.

This typology is very useful to understand why different innovative industries have different dynamics; they are governed differently. For instance, we can readily understand why consumer software and pharmaceuticals are so at odds regarding patent law. The strict (and very necessary) regulation of drug production and commercialization coupled with the oligopolistic structure of that industry creates the need and opportunity to advocate for patent protection; which is equivalent to a government subsidy. In turn, the highly competitive environment of consumer software development and its low level of regulation foster an environment where patents hinder innovation. Government intervention is neither needed nor wanted; the industry wishes to regulate itself.

This typology is also useful to understand why open source applications have gained currency much faster in the consumer segment than the contractor segment of software producers. Examples of the latter is industry specific software (e.g. to operate machinery, the stock exchange, and ATMs) or software to support national security agencies. These contractors demand proprietary software and depend on the secrecy of the source code. The software industry is not monolithic, and while highly innovative in all its segments, the innovation taking place varies greatly by its mode of governance.

Furthermore, we can understand the inherent conflicts in the governance of science. In principle, scientists are led by curiosity and organize their work in a decentralized and organic fashion. In practice, most of science is driven by mission-oriented governmental agencies and is organized in a rigid hierarchical system. Consider the centrality of prestige in science and how it is awarded by peer-review; a system controlled by the top brass of each discipline. There is nearly an irreconcilable contrast between the self-image of science and its actual governance. Using the Borrás-Edler typology, we could say that scientists imagine themselves as citizens of the south-east quadrant while they really inhabit the north-west quadrant.

There are practical lessons from the application of this typology to current controversies. For instance, no policy instrument such as patents can have the same effect on all innovation sectors because the effect will depend on the mode of governance of the sector. This corollary may sound intuitive, yet it really is at variance with the current terms of the debate on patent protection, where assertions of its effect on innovation, in either direction, are rarely qualified.

The second question Borrás and Edler address is that of the key analytical dimensions to examine socio-technical change. To this end, they draw from an ample selection of social theories of change. First, economists and sociologists fruitfully debate the advantage of social inquiry focused on agency versus institutions. Here, the synthesis offered is reminiscent of Herbert Simon’s “bounded rationality”, where the focus turns to agent decisions constrained by institutions. Second, policy scholars as well as sociologists emphasize the engineering of change. Change can be accomplished with discreet instruments such as laws and regulations, or diffused instruments such as deliberation, political participation, and techniques of conflict resolution. Third, political scientists underscore the centrality of power in the adjudication of disputes produced by systems’ change and integration. Borrás and Edler have condensed these perspectives in an analytical framework that boils down to three clean questions: who drives change? (focus on agents bounded by institutions), how is change engineered? (focus on instrumentation), and why it is accepted by society? (focus on legitimacy). The case studies contained in this edited volume illustrate the deployment of this framework with empirical research.

Standards, sustainability, incremental innovation

Arthur Daemmrich (Chapter 3) tells the story of how the German chemical company BASF succeeded marketing the biodegradable polymer Ecoflex. It is worth noting the dependence of BASF on government funding to develop Ecoflex, and on the German Institute for Standardization (DIN), making a market by setting standards. With this technology, BASF capitalized on the growing demand in Germany for biodegradables, and with its intense cooperation with DIN helped establish a standard that differentiate Ecoflex from the competition. By focusing on the enterprise (the innovation agent) and its role in engineering the market for its product by setting standards that would favor them, this story reveals the process of legitimation of this new technology. In effect, the certification of DIN was accepted by agribusinesses that sought to utilize biodegradable products.

If BASF is an example of innovation by standards, Allison Loconto and Marc Barbier (Chapter 4) show the strategies of governing by standards. They take the case of the International Social and Environmental Accreditation and Labelling alliance (ISEAL). ISEAL, an advocate of sustainability, positions itself as a coordinating broker among standard developing organizations by offering “credibility tools” such as codes of conduct, best practices, impact assessment methods, and assurance codes. The organization advocates what is known as the tripartite system regime (TSR) around standards. TSR is a system of checks and balances to increase the credibility of producers complying with standards. The TSR regime assigns standard-setting, certification, and accreditation of the certifiers, to separate and independent bodies. The case illustrates how producers, their associations, and broker organizations work to bestow upon standards their most valuable attribute: credibility. The authors are cautious not to conflate credibility with legitimacy, but there is no question that credibility is part of the process of legitimizing technical change. In constructing credibility, these authors focus on the third question of the framework –legitimizing innovation—and from that vantage point, they illuminate the role of actors and instruments that will guide innovations in sustainability markets.

While standards are instruments of non-dominant hierarchies, the classical instrument of dominant hierarchies is regulation. David Barberá-Tomás and Jordi Molas-Gallart tell the tragic consequences of an innovation in hip-replacement prosthesis that went terribly wrong. It is estimated that about 30 thousand replaced hips failed. The FDA, under the 1976 Medical Device Act, allows incremental improvements in medical devices to go into the market after only laboratory trials, assuming that any substantive innovations have already being tested in regular clinical trials. This policy was designed as an incentive for innovation, a relief from high regulatory costs. However, the authors argue, when products have been constantly improved for a number of years after an original release, any marginal improvement comes at a higher cost or higher risk—a point they refer to as the late stage of the product life-cycle. This has tilted the balance in favor of risky improvements, as illustrated by the hip prosthesis case. The story speaks to the integration of technical and cultural systems: the policy that encourages incremental innovation may alter the way medical device companies assess the relative risk of their innovations, precisely because they focus on incremental improvements over radical ones. Returning to the analytical framework, the vantage point of regulation—instrumentation—elucidates the particular complexities and biases in agents’ decisions.

Two additional case studies discuss the discontinuation of the incandescent light bulb (ILB) and the emergence of translational research, both in Western Europe. The first study, authored by Peter Stegmaier, Stefan Kuhlmann and Vincent R. Visser (Chapter 6), focuses on a relatively smooth transition. There was wide support for replacing ILBs that translated in political will and a market willing to purchase new energy efficient bulbs. In effect, the new technical system was relatively easy to re-integrate to a social system in change—public values had shifted in Europe to favor sustainable consumption—and the authors are thus able to emphasize how agents make sense of the transition. Socio-technical change does not have a unique meaning: for citizens it means living in congruence with their values; for policy makers it means accruing political capital; for entrepreneurs it means new business opportunities. The case by Etienne Vignola-Gagné, Peter Biegelbauer and Daniel Lehner (Chapter 7) offers a similar lesson about governance. My reading of their multi-site study of the implementation of translational research—a management movement that seeks to bridge laboratory and clinical work in medical research—reveals how the different agents involved make sense of this organizational innovation. Entrepreneurs see a new market niche, researchers strive for increasing the impact of their work, and public officials align their advocacy for translation with the now regular calls for rendering publicly funded research more productive. Both chapters illuminate a lesson that is as old as it is useful to remember: technological innovation is interpreted in as many ways as the number of agents that participate in it.

Innovation for whom?

The framework and illustrations of this book are useful for those of us interested in the governance of system integration. The typology of different modes of governance and the three vantage points from which empirical analysis can be deployed are very useful indeed. Further development of this framework should include the question of how political power is redistributed by effect of innovation and the system integration and re-integration that it triggers. The question is pressing because the outcomes of innovation vary as power structures are reinforced or debilitated by the emergence of new technologies—not to mention ongoing destabilizing forces such as social movements. Put another way, the framework should be expanded to explain in which circumstances innovation exacerbates inequality. The expanded framework should probe whether the mutual accommodation is asymmetric across socio-economic groups, which is the same as asking: are poor people asked to do more adapting to new technologies? These questions have great relevance in contemporary debates about economic and political inequality. 

I believe that Borrás and Edler and their colleagues have done us a great service organizing a broad but dispersed literature and offering an intuitive and comprehensive framework to study the governance of innovation. The conceptual and empirical parts of the book are instructive and I look forward to the papers that will follow testing this framework. We need to better understand the governance of socio-technical change and the dynamics of systems integration. Without a unified framework of comparison, the ongoing efforts in various disciplines will not amount to a greater understanding of the big picture. 

I also have a selfish reason to like this book: it helps me make sense of my carrier’s push for integrating my value system to their technical system. If I decide to adapt to a newer phone, I could readily do so because I have time and other resources. But that may not be the case for many customers of 2G devices who have neither the resources nor the inclination to learn to use more complex devices. For that reason alone, I’d argue that this sort of innovation-led systems integration could be done more democratically. Still, I could meet the decision of my carrier with indifference: when the service is disconnected, I could simply try to get by without the darn toy.

Note: Thanks to Joseph Schuman for an engaging discussion of this book with me.

       

       

Editors' Note: How can the U.S. government better counter ISIS propaganda? As the State Department overhauls its counter messaging program, Will McCants and Clint Watts examine what makes ISIS’s online magazine, Dabiq, so successful, and the obstacles to the U.S. government producing a publication that effective. This piece originally appeared on The Daily Beast.

The Obama administration attributes much of ISIS’s success at communicating to its technological savvy, which has elevated the group to a global media and terrorist phenomenon. The president has gone so far as to say that the Paris attackers were a “bunch of killers with good social media.”

Despite the praise heaped on the so-called Islamic State for its cutting-edge propaganda online, one of its most effective products is decidedly low tech. Dabiq, ISIS’s online news magazine, has a small but devoted readership that spans the globe. News of advances on the battlefield excite them—more evidence that God’s kingdom on earth has returned and grows. Stories of fighters inspire them—more models to emulate as they contemplate what role they can play in the divine drama unfolding.

Journalists and analysts read it with almost the same intensity as ISIS fans; the contents of each volume fill newspapers and think-tank reports soon after it’s released. And no wonder: the magazine clearly states the organization’s goals; provides news of its activities that advance those goals; showcases personal stories of the people engaged in the activities; and announces major developments in the organization’s fight against its enemies. It’s a wealth of information presented between two covers every few months.

Can you name a single U.S. government publication or online platform devoted to the anti-ISIS fight that is as informative or as widely-read as Dabiq? Is there anything that tells us what all these air sorties are for? Who’s fighting this fight on the ground? What advances the coalition has made and why we should we care? We couldn’t come up with one either.

That got us to thinking: why can’t the U.S. government publish something like Dabiq online? Lack of imagination isn’t the reason. A news magazine isn’t a very creative idea—Americans perfected the form, which ISIS copied. And if anything, folks inside the government have too many overly-imaginative ideas, most of them involving whiz-bang technology. If you’ve thought it, they’ve thought it. A social media campaign for youth to come up with ways to counter violent extremism? Check. Sock-puppetry? Check.

The only real obstacle impeding the U.S. government is itself. The executive branch’s complicated bureaucracy, legal strictures, and sensitivity to criticism from media and Congress make it tough to publish a Dabiq-style magazine. To see what we mean, let’s look at two of Dabiq’s regular features and see what would happen if the U.S. government tried to mimic them:

Attack Reports: Each issue of Dabiq details its attacks on its enemies. One entry in issue 12 chronicled ISIS’s efforts to capture an airbase in Dayr al-Zawr, Syria. Another described four suicide attacks on the Saudi-led coalition fighting southern Yemen. Pictures accompany most entries, some quite gruesome.

The U.S. government routinely writes these types of reports for internal consumption. But when they’re public—and thus under the scrutiny of Congress that holds the pursestrings and the media that holds the careerstrings—routine gives way to caution and quarreling.

If the president asks his government to write attack reports for the public, the U.S. Department of State and the Department of Defense will quarrel about who will take the lead in writing and publishing them. Then they and the intelligence agencies will quarrel over which reports should be included. Will this report counter the president’s insistence that we have no boots on the ground? Will that report make it look like our Iraqi partners aren’t carrying their weight? Does this one tell the enemy too much about our game plan? Does that picture make U.S. soldiers look too menacing? Will this report later be discredited by the media? Will these battlefield successes be reversed in the future? Does anyone know if another agency has said this or its opposite? Will anyone trust what we’re saying? Shouldn’t someone else be saying this?

When something finally slides off the serpentine conveyor belt months later, it will be a bland blob devoid of detail and relevance. Meanwhile, ISIS will have added twelve more volumes to its shelves.

Biographies of Fighters: Dabiq sometimes profiles its fighters, including the young men on the front lines dying for ISIS’s cause. The fighters tell their stories and explain their reasons for fighting. In issue 8, for example, there is a Q&A with the man who murdered a prominent politician in Tunisia. He explains why he did it and how it advances the greater goals of the Islamic State.

The United States military used to feature these sorts of stories, too—back when the American war in Iraq was a massive, overt affair. Now, that’s not the case. The identities of the Americans fighting in Syria and Iraq are a well-guarded secret because the government does not want them or their families to become targets. The government would also frown on them for nonchalantly talking about killing lest the American public get upset. And then there’s that boots on the ground thing.

Without personal stories, we’re left with drones buzzing in the sky, and buzz-cut officers droning through stale Pentagon briefings. The human cost on both sides is reduced to numbers on slides, which means Americans can’t appreciate the true costs of war and foreigners can’t appreciate the sacrifices Americans are making on their behalf.

Some readers might feel that the U.S. government should be constrained in these ways. They want the government to be sensitive to public opinion and exceedingly cautious when talking about war and violence. If so, they shouldn’t complain when the U.S. government explains its anti-ISIS fight in the vaguest possible terms—that’s the outcome of extreme caution compounded by bureaucratic bargaining on a mind-boggling scale. Others might feel we need to reform the way government does messaging. If so, don’t propose to change the system first. Rather, ask the system to perform a simple task like the one we’ve described and see where it breaks down. Then you’ll know what to fix.

Making a news magazine probably isn’t the high tech solution the government is looking for, at least judging by Friday’s pilgrimage of senior security officials to Silicon Valley and the revamping of State Department’s online counter messaging campaign. But if our byzantine, poll-sensitive government can’t do something so basic, it won’t perform better when it’s tasked with something more complicated no matter how much technology it uses.

      

       

       

For Europe, it has been a rough year, or perhaps more accurately a rough decade. The terrorist attacks in London, Madrid, and elsewhere have taken a toll, as did the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. But things really got tough beginning with the Great Recession—and its prolonged duration for Europe, including grave economic crises in much of the southern part of the continent. That was followed by Vladimir Putin’s aggression against Ukraine, as well as the intensification of the Syrian, Libyan, and Yemeni conflicts with their tragic human consequences, including massive displacement of people and the greatest flow of refugees since World War II. The recent attacks in Paris and Brussels have added to the gloom and fear. This recent history, together with the advent of nationalistic and inward-looking policies in virtually all European Union member states, makes it easy to get despondent—and worry that the entire European project is failing.

To be sure, these are not the best of times. Europe is perceived by some, including Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, as failing to invest enough in its own security, since NATO allies spend less than 1.4 percent of GDP on their armed forces while the United States spends twice that. However, we must not lose sight of the key structural advantages—and the important policy successes—that have brought Europe where it is today. For example, Europe’s recent progress in energy policy has been significant—good not only for economic and energy resilience, but also for NATO's collective handling of the revanchist Russia threat. 

[W]e must not lose sight of the key structural advantages—and the important policy successes—that have brought Europe where it is today.

For many years, analysts and policymakers have debated the question of Europe's dependence on natural gas from Russia. Today, this problem is largely solved. Russia provides only one-third of Europe’s gas. Importantly, Europe’s internal infrastructure for transporting natural gas in all desired directions has improved greatly. So have its available storage options, as well as its possibilities to import alternatives either by pipeline or in the form of liquefied natural gas. As a result, almost all member states are currently well-positioned to withstand even a worst-case scenario. 

Indeed, European Commission analyses show that even a multi-month long supply disruption could be addressed, albeit at real economic cost, by diversification and fuel switching. Progress in energy efficiency and renewable energy investments also help. There is more to do to enhance European energy security, but much has been done already. The Europeans have shown that, with ups and downs, they can address energy security themselves.

Already this energy success has contributed to a strategic success. Europe has been heavily criticized for not standing up more firmly to Russia in response to the annexation of Crimea and the conflict in eastern Ukraine. In fact, all EU member states have agreed to keep economic sanctions in place against Moscow. In addition, lifting the sanctions has been firmly attached to the implementation of the Minsk II agreement—and despite recent cracks in European solidarity, we hope that this stance will hold going forward. 

The notion that Europe is weak and dependent on Russian natural gas is a relic from the past.

The notion that Europe is weak and dependent on Russian natural gas is a relic from the past. Europe has a strong regulatory framework with which commercial entities, including Gazprom, have to abide. For those who doubt the impact of these regulations, just ask Google or Microsoft. With the end of so-called destination clauses, natural gas can be re-sold whenever required, as long as sufficient infrastructure is in place. Just last year, Germany re-exported over 30 billion cubic meters of gas, mostly Russian, in particular to Central and Eastern Europe (including Ukraine). That volume exceeds the annual consumption of every European state with the exceptions of Germany, Italy, France, and Britain.

In theory, Europe could even substantially wean itself off Russian gas if need be. To be sure, that would come at a major expense: over 200 billion euros of additional investments over a period of two years or more, and then an annual 35 billion euros, according to some calculations. That will almost surely not happen. But as a way of bounding the worst-case scenario, it is still informative. One might say that Europe has escalation dominance over Russia; the latter needs to export to Europe more than Europe need Russian hydrocarbons.

The internal energy market is not finished, but Europe’s energy security has significantly improved in recent years. Even though world markets are currently awash in resources, there is no time for complacence, and European leaders should finish the job, foremost by safeguarding the swift construction of the so-called Projects of Common Interest (key energy infrastructure projects that address the remaining bottlenecks in the EU market), so that the U.S. State Department can take new infrastructure projects like Nord Stream 2 off its priority list, and make energy policy another true European success story. It is already much of the way there, and Western security is the better for it.

      

Presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump’s idea to withdraw American forces from Asia—letting allies like Japan and South Korea fend for themselves, including possibly by acquiring nuclear weapons—is fundamentally unsound, as I’ve written in a Wall Street Journal op-ed.

Among the many dangers of preemptively pulling American forces out of Japan and South Korea, including an increased risk of war between Japan and China and a serious blow to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, such a move would heighten the threat of war between China and Taiwan. The possibility that the United States would dismantle its Asia security framework could unsettle Taiwan enough that it would pursue a nuclear deterrent against China, as it has considered doing in the past—despite China indicating that such an act itself could be a pathway to war. And without bases in Japan, the United States could not as easily deter China from potential military attacks on Taiwan. 

Trump’s proposed Asia policy could take the United States and its partners down a very dangerous road. It’s an experiment best not to run.

       

The terrible attack in Nice on July 14—Bastille Day—saddened us all. For a country that has done so much historically to promote democracy and human rights at home and abroad, France is paying a terrible and unfair price, even more than most countries. My colleagues Will McCants and Chris Meserole have carefully documented the toll that France, and certain other Francophone countries like Belgium, have suffered in recent years from global terrorism. It is heart wrenching.

From what we know so far, the attack was carried out by a deeply distraught, potentially deranged, and in any case extremely brutal local man from Nice of Tunisian descent and French nationality. Marital problems, the recent loss of his job, and a general sense of personal unhappiness seem to have contributed to the state of mind that led him to commit this heinous atrocity. Perhaps we will soon learn that ISIS, directly or indirectly, inspired the attack in one way or another as well. My colleague Dan Byman has already tapped into his deep expertise about terrorism to remind us that ISIS had in fact encouraged ramming attacks with vehicles before, even if the actual manifestation of such tactics in this case was mostly new. 

This attack will again raise the question: Why France? On this point, I do have a somewhat different take than some of my colleagues. The argument that France has partly brought these tragedies upon itself—perhaps because of its policies of secularism and in particular its limitations on when and where women can wear the veil in France—strikes me as unpersuasive. Its logical policy implications are also potentially disturbing, because if interpreted wrongly, it could lead to a debate on whether France should modify such policies so as to make itself less vulnerable to terrorism. That outcome, even if unintended, could dance very close to the line of encouraging appeasement of heinous acts of violence with policy changes that run counter to much of what French culture and society would otherwise favor. So I feel the need to push back.

Here are some of the arguments, as I see them, against blaming French culture or policy for this recent string of horrible attacks including the Charlie Hebdo massacre, the November 2015 mass shootings in Paris, and the Nice tragedy (as well as recent attacks in Belgium):

• Starting with the simplest point, we still do not know much about the perpetrator of the Nice killings. From what we do surmise so far, personal problems appear to be largely at the root of the violence—different from, but not entirely unlike, the case with the Orlando shooter, Omar Mateen.
• We need to be careful about drawing implications from a small number of major attacks. Since 2000, there have also been major attacks in the Western world by extremist jihadis or takfiris in New York, Washington, Spain, London, San Bernardino, Orlando, and Russia. None of these are Francophone. Even Belgium is itself a mixed country, linguistically and culturally.
• Partly for reasons of geography, as well as history, France does face a larger problem than some other European countries of individuals leaving its country to go to Syria or Iraq to fight for ISIS, and then returning. But it is hardly unique in the scale of this problem.
• Continental Europe has a specific additional problem that is not as widely shared in the United Kingdom or the United States: Its criminal networks largely overlap with its extremist and/or terrorist networks. This point may be irrelevant to the Nice attack, but more widely, extremists in France or Belgium can make use of illicit channels for moving people, money, and weapons that are less available to would-be jihadis in places like the U.K. (where the criminal networks have more of a Caribbean and sub-Saharan African character, meaning they overlap less with extremist networks).
• Of course, the greatest numbers of terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists occur in the broader Muslim world, with Muslims as the primary victims—from Iraq and Syria to Libya and Yemen and Somalia to South Asia. French domestic policies have no bearing on these, of course.

There is no doubt that good work by counterterrorism and intelligence forces is crucial to preventing future attacks. France has done well in this regard—though it surely can do better, and it is surely trying to get better. There is also no doubt that promoting social cohesion in a broad sense is a worthy goal. But I would hesitate, personally, to attribute any apparent trend line in major attacks in the West to a particular policy of a country like France—especially when the latter is in fact doing much to seek to build bridges, as a matter of national policy, with Muslims at home and abroad. 

There is much more to do in promoting social cohesion, to be sure, even here in America (though our own problems probably center more on race than on religion at the moment). But the Nice attacker almost assuredly didn’t attack because his estranged wife couldn’t wear a veil in the manner and/or places she wanted. At a moment like this in particular, I disagree with insinuations to the contrary.

       

       

       

       

       

       

I had been mulling a rebuttal to my colleague and friend Jon Rauch’s interesting—but wrong—new Brookings paper praising the role of “hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals” in democracy. I thought the indictments of Chris Christie’s associates last week provided a perfect example of the dangers of all of that, and so of why Jon was incorrect. But in yesterday’s L.A. Times, he beat me to it, himself defending the political morality (if not the efficacy) of their actions, and in the process delivering a knockout blow to his own position.

Bridgegate is a perfect example of why we need fewer "hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals" in our politics, not more. There is no justification whatsoever for government officials abusing their powers, stopping emergency vehicles and risking lives, making kids late for school and parents late for their jobs to retaliate against a mayor who withholds an election endorsement. We vote in our democracy to make government work, not break. We expect that officials will serve the public, not their personal interests. This conduct weakens our democracy, not strengthens it.

It is also incorrect that, as Jon suggests, reformers and transparency advocates are, in part, to blame for the gridlock that sometimes afflicts our American government at every level. As my co-authors and I demonstrated at some length in our recent Brookings paper, “Why Critics of Transparency Are Wrong,” and in our follow-up Op-Ed in the Washington Post, reform and transparency efforts are no more responsible for the current dysfunction in our democracy than they were for the gridlock in Fort Lee. Indeed, in both cases, “hacks, machines, big money, and back room deals” are a major cause of the dysfunction. The vicious cycle of special interests, campaign contributions and secrecy too often freeze our system into stasis, both on a grand scale, when special interests block needed legislation, and on a petty scale, as in Fort Lee. The power of megadonors has, for example, made dysfunction within the House Republican Caucus worse, not better.

Others will undoubtedly address Jon’s new paper at length. But one other point is worth noting now. As in foreign policy discussions, I don’t think Jon’s position merits the mantle of political “realism,” as if those who want democracy to be more democratic and less corrupt are fluffy-headed dreamers. It is the reformers who are the true realists. My co-authors and I in our paper stressed the importance of striking realistic, hard-headed balances, e.g. in discussing our non-absolutist approach to transparency; alas, Jon gives that the back of his hand, acknowledging our approach but discarding the substance to criticize our rhetoric as “radiat[ing] uncompromising moralism.” As Bridgegate shows, the reform movement’s “moralism" correctly recognizes the corrupting nature of power, and accordingly advocates reasonable checks and balances. That is what I call realism. So I will race Jon to the trademark office for who really deserves the title of realist!

      

       

       

As government funding for disability insurance is expected to run out next year, Congress should re-evaluate the costs of the program.

Nine million people in America today are receiving Social Security Disability Insurance, double the number in 1995 and six times the number in 1970. With statistics like that, it’s hardly surprising to see some in Congress worry that more will enroll in the program and costs would continue to rise, especially since government funding for disability insurance is expected to run out by the end of next year. If Congress does nothing, benefits would fall by 19% immediately following next year’s presidential election. So, Congress will likely do something. But what exactly should it do?

Funding for disability insurance has nearly run out of money before. Each time, Congress has simply increased the share of the Social Security payroll tax that goes for disability insurance. This time, however, many members of Congress oppose such a shift unless it is linked to changes that curb eligibility and promote return to work. They fear that rolls will keep growing and costs would keep rising, but findings from a report by a government panel conclude that disability insurance rolls have stopped rising and will likely shrink. The report, authored by a panel of the Social Security Advisory Board, is important in that many of the factors that caused disability insurance to rise, particularly during the Great Recession, have ended.

• Baby-boomers, who added to the rolls as they reached the disability-prone middle age years, are aging out of disability benefits and into retirement benefits. 


• The decades-long flood of women increased the pool of people with the work histories needed to be eligible for disability insurance. But women’s labor force participation has fallen a bit from pre-Great Recession peaks, and is not expected again to rise materially. 


• The Great Recession, which led many who lost jobs and couldn’t find work to apply for disability insurance, is over and applications are down. A recession as large as that of 2008 is improbable any time soon. 


• Approval rates by administrative law judges, who for many years were suspected of being too ready to approve applications, have been falling. Whatever the cause, this stringency augurs a fall in the disability insurance rolls.

      

       

The idea of a universal basic income (UBI) is certainly an intriguing one, and has been gaining traction. Swiss voters just turned it down. But it is still alive in Finland, in the Netherlands, in Alaska, in Oakland, CA, and in parts of Canada. 

Advocates of a UBI include Charles Murray on the right and Anthony Atkinson on the left. This surprising alliance alone makes it interesting, and it is a reasonable response to a growing pool of Americans made jobless by the march of technology and a safety net that is overly complex and bureaucratic. A comprehensive and excellent analysis in The Economist points out that while fears about technological unemployment have previously proved misleading, “the past is not always a good guide to the future.”

Hurting the poor

Robert Greenstein argues, however, that a UBI would actually hurt the poor by reallocating support up the income scale. His logic is inescapable: either we have to spend additional trillions providing income grants to all Americans or we have to limit assistance to those who need it most. 

One option is to provide unconditional payments along the lines of a UBI, but to phase it out as income rises. Libertarians like this approach since it gets rid of bureaucracies and leaves the poor free to spend the money on whatever they choose, rather than providing specific funds for particular needs. Liberals fear that such unconditional assistance would be unpopular and would be an easy target for elimination in the face of budget pressures. Right now most of our social programs are conditional. With the exception of the aged and the disabled, assistance is tied to work or to the consumption of necessities such as food, housing, or medical care, and our two largest means-tested programs are Food Stamps and the Earned Income Tax Credit.

The case for paternalism

Liberals have been less willing to openly acknowledge that a little paternalism in social policy may not be such a bad thing. In fact, progressives and libertarians alike are loath to admit that many of the poor and jobless are lacking more than just cash. They may be addicted to drugs or alcohol, suffer from mental health issues, have criminal records, or have difficulty functioning in a complex society. Money may be needed but money by itself does not cure such ills. 

A humane and wealthy society should provide the disadvantaged with adequate services and support. But there is nothing wrong with making assistance conditional on individuals fulfilling some obligation whether it is work, training, getting treatment, or living in a supportive but supervised environment.

In the end, the biggest problem with a universal basic income may not be its costs or its distributive implications, but the flawed assumption that money cures all ills.  

       

Recent developments in Turkey and Israel—on energy security and domestic politics, in particular—may help pave the way for a long-awaited rapprochement between the two countries.

It’s been five and a half years since the May 2010 Israel raid on the Mavi Marmara (part of the Gaza flotilla), which soured relations between Ankara and Jerusalem. At present, they’re characterized by distrust and suspicion at the top level, personal animosity between the leaders, a limited dialogue between the two governments, and ambassadors yet to be appointed. However, trade is booming and Israeli tourists are flocking back to Turkish vacation destinations.

Wanted: Energy supply and cooperation on Syria

Turkey’s downing of a Russian SU-24 fighter jet along the Syrian border on November 24 has provoked crisis in its relationship with Russia, with Russian President Vladimir Putin characterizing Turkey’s action as “a stab in the back.” Extending beyond bilateral relations, that crisis affects Turkey’s foreign policy more broadly. For Turkey, the most critical element in this feud is its energy security. 

Turkey imports most of its natural gas from Russia, and the two sides have long been engaged in talks to expand this relationship through the proposed Turkish Stream natural gas pipeline, which would channel gas to Turkey and Europe underneath the Black Sea (circumventing Ukraine). But on November 26, Russian Minister of Development Alexi Ulyukayev announced the cancellation of the project, sending shock waves throughout Turkey. The move has prompted concerns among the Turkish leadership about the reliability of Russian gas and a corresponding search for alternative supplies in the region. In addition to discussions with Qatar and Azerbaijan, there have been more statements in recent weeks from Turkish politicians, energy companies, and others calling for talks with Israel about future natural gas imports.

The Syrian crisis is another issue on which Turkey may seek quiet Israeli support—particularly the support of Israeli intelligence, which may prove crucial to Turkish war efforts.

Politically, the timing could be convenient: the Justice and Development Party (AKP)-led government could approach Israel and begin talks where they left off nearly two years ago. The dust has settled over the November 2015 elections and the AKP is not facing any serious domestic political challenges in the near future. The ball is now in President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s court. He commented to reporters in Paris on November 30 that he believes he’s “able to fix ties” with Israel, hinting at his willingness to move forward. He then stated on December 13 that the “region definitely needs” Turkish-Israeli normalization, citing previous Turkish demands for compensation to the families of the victims of the Mavi Marmara incident as well as the lifting of the Gaza blockade as his conditions for normalization.

Wanted: Energy demand and cooperation on Syria

From Jerusalem’s perspective, Israeli energy security may provide a “fig leaf” for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government to reach out to Turkey. Netanyahu and his cabinet have been stuck for nearly a year in attempts to approve and launch a compromise between the government and the gas companies (Delek and Noble) to begin the crucial phase of development of Israel’s largest Eastern Mediterranean gas field, Leviathan. About to clear the last hurdle before launching the deal, Netanyahu is under pressure to demonstrate the national security benefits of developing the gas. In this context, he and the Minister of Energy Yuval Steinitz have said that Turkey is being seriously considered as a future export destination. In a Knesset hearing, Netanyahu went even further by revealing that Israel has recently been engaged in discussions with Turkey to further explore the export option. 

The Syrian crisis provides Israel another reason to engage with Turkey. Israel is quite weary of the situation in Syria and may benefit from Turkish analysis and intelligence on this issue. 

Politically, Netanyahu will not face problems within his narrow coalition if he decides to warm up relations with Turkey. Former Foreign Minister Avigdor Lieberman, a staunch critic of Turkey and its leadership, is no longer in office. The recently appointed Chief of Mossad (currently National Security Advisor) Yossi Cohen, in contrast, is known to be a proponent of closer ties between Israel and Turkey. 

Re-friending?

Official visits between the two sides have been increasing: in June, Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ Director General Dore Gold and his Turkish counterpart Feridun Sinirlioğlu met in Rome; in September, Professor Guven Sak (the head of the government-supported research institute of the Turkish industrialists and businessmen, TEPAV) led the first official visit to Israel by a Turkish political delegation; on December 3, Israeli news outlet NRG reported on a visit by Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ Deputy Director General for Europe, Aviv Shiron's visit to Ankara and Istanbul in an attempt to warm relations between the two countries. 

There is no love lost between Israel and Turkey, and many issues still need to be resolved. Erdoğan has stated his conditions for normalization, and Netanyahu is reportedly insisting that Turkey expel Hamas operative Saleh al-Arouri (who has been directing Hamas terrorist activities in the West Bank) from its territory, as a condition. However, the current convergence of interests may pave the way to a resolution of the crisis between these two former strategic allies. In March 2013, President Obama helped orchestrate a formal Israeli apology to Turkey over the Mavi Marmara incident. Moving forward, more American senior-level diplomacy is needed. The United States—which has been active behind the scenes—will likely need to further push the two sides toward one another.