The measures taken to limit the spread of the coronavirus - in particular social distancing -  come with significant economic costs, as the drop both in demand for goods and services and in supply due to workers being at home sick will create a short-term economic shock not seen in modern times.

Sectors that are usually less affected by regular economic swings such as transport and tourism are being confronted with an almost total collapse in demand. In the airline sector, companies are warning they might only be able to hold out for a few months more.

Building on the calls to provide income support to all citizens and shore up businesses, European leaders should now be giving explicit permission to the European Central Bank (ECB) to provide whatever financial support is needed.

Although political leaders have responded to the economic threat, the measures announced across the continent have mainly been to support businesses. The crisis is broader and deeper than the current response.

Support for weaker governments

The ECB already reacted to COVID-19 by announcing measures to support the banking system, which is important to guarantee the continuity of the European financial system and to ensure financially weaker European governments do not have to confront a failing banking system as well.

Although government-subsidised reduced working hours and sick pay are a solution for many businesses and workers, crucially they are not for those working on temporary contracts or the self-employed. They need direct income support.

This might come down to instituting something that looks like a universal basic income (UBI), and ensuring money keeps flowing through the economy as much as possible to help avoid a cascade of defaults and significant long-term damage.

But while this is likely to be the most effective remedy to limit the medium-term impact on the economy, it is particularly costly. Just as an indication, total compensation of employees was on average around €470bn per month in the eurozone last year.

Attempting to target payments using existing welfare payment channels would reduce costs, but is difficult to implement and runs the risk of many households and businesses in need missing out.

The increase in spending and lost revenue associated with these support measures dwarf the fiscal response to the 2008-09 financial crisis. The eurozone economy could contract by close to 10% this year and budget deficits are likely be in double digits throughout the bloc.

The European Commission has already stated member states are free to spend whatever is necessary to combat the crisis, which is not surprising given the Stability and Growth Pact - which includes the fiscal rules - allows for such eventualities.

Several eurozone countries do probably have the fiscal space to deal with this. Countries such as Germany and the Netherlands have run several years of balanced budgets recently and significantly decreased their debt levels. For countries such as Italy, and even France, it is a different story and the combination of much higher spending and a collapse in tax revenue is more likely to lead to questions in the market over the sustainability of their debt levels. In order to avoid this, the Covid-19 response must be financed collectively.

The Eurogroup could decide to use the European Stability Mechanism (ESM) to provide states with the funds, while suitably ditching the political conditionality that came with previous bailout. But the ESM currently has €410bn in remaining lending capacity, which is unlikely to be enough and difficult to rapidly increase.

So this leaves the ECB to pick up the tab of national governments’ increase in spending, as the only institution with effectively unlimited monetary firepower. But a collective EU response is complicated by the common currency, and particularly by the role of the ECB.

The ECB can’t just do whatever it likes and is limited more than other major central banks in its room for manoeuvre. It does have a programme to buy government bonds but this relies on countries agreeing to a rescue programme within the context of the ESM, with all the resulting political difficulties.

There are two main ways that the ECB could finance the response to the crisis. First, it could buy up more or all bonds issued by the member states. A first step in this direction would be to scrap the limits on the bonds it can buy. Through self-imposed rules, the ECB can only buy up to a third of every country’s outstanding public debt. There are good reasons for this in normal times, but these are not normal times. With the political blessing of the European Council, the Eurosystem of central banks could then start buying bonds issued by governments to finance whatever expenditure they deem necessary to combat the crisis.

Secondly, essentially give governments an overdraft with the ECB or the national central banks. Although a central bank lending directly to governments is outlawed by the European treaties, the COVID-19 crisis means these rules should be temporarily suspended by the European Council.

Back in 2012, the then president of the ECB, Mario Draghi, proclaimed the ECB would do whatever it takes, within its mandate, to save the euro, which was widely seen as a crucial step towards solving the eurozone crisis. The time is now right for eurozone political leaders to explicitly tell the ECB that together they can do whatever it takes to save the eurozone economy through direct support for businesses and households.

It is less than a month since we published our research paper on the future of democracy in Europe. But it feels like we now live in a different world. The coronavirus has already killed thousands of people in Europe, led to an unprecedented economic crisis and transformed daily life – and in the process raised difficult new questions about democracy.

The essence of our argument in the paper was that democracy in Europe should be deepened. But now there is a much more basic question about whether democracies can protect their citizens from the pandemic.

There has already been much discussion about whether authoritarian states will emerge stronger from this crisis than democracies. In particular, although the virus originated in China and the government initially seemed to struggle to deal with it, it was able to largely contain the outbreak in Hubei and deploy vast resources from the rest of the country to deal with it.

Come through the worst

China may have come through the worst of the health crisis – though a second wave of infections as restrictions are lifted is possible – and there have already been three times as many deaths in Italy, and twice as many in Spain, as in China (although there is increasing doubt about the accuracy of China’s figures).

However, it is not only authoritarian states that seem so far to have coped relatively well with the virus. In fact, some East Asian democracies appear to have done even better than China. At the time of writing South Korea, with a population of 51.5 million, has had only 144 death rates so far. Taiwan, with a population of nearly 24 million, has had only two deaths.

So rather than thinking in terms of the relative performance of authoritarian states and democracies, perhaps instead we should be asking what we in Europe can learn from East Asian democracies.

It is not yet clear why East Asian democracies were able to respond so effectively, especially as they did not all follow exactly the same approach. Whereas some quickly imposed restrictions on travel (for example, Taiwan suspended flights from China and then prohibited the entry of people from China and other affected countries) and quarantines, others used extensive testing and contact tracing, often making use of personal data collected from citizens.

Whatever the exact strategy they used, though, they did all act quickly and decisively – and the collective memory of the SARS outbreak in 2003 and other recent epidemics seems to have played a role in this. For example, following the SARS outbreak, Taiwan created a central epidemic command center. Europe, meanwhile, was hardly affected by SARS – and we seem to have assumed the coronavirus would be the same (although that does not quite explain why we were still so slow to react in February even after it was clear that the virus had spread to Italy).

However, while the relative success of East Asian democracies may have something to do with this recent experience of epidemics, it may also have something to do with the kind of democracies they are. It may be a simple matter of competence – the bureaucracy in Taiwan and South Korea may function better, and in particular in a more coordinated way, than in many European countries.

But it may also be more than that. In particular, it could be that East Asian democracies have a kind of 'authoritarian residue' that has helped in the initial response to this crisis. South Korea and Taiwan are certainly vibrant democracies – but they are also relatively new democracies compared to many in Europe. As a result, citizens may have a different relationship with the state and be more willing to accept sudden restrictions of freedoms, in particular on movement, and the use of personal data – at least in a crisis.

In that sense, the pandemic may be a challenge not to democracy as such but to liberal democracy in particular – in other words, a system of popular sovereignty together with guaranteed basic rights, such as including freedom of association and expression and checks and balances on executive power. There may now be difficult trade-offs to be made between those basic rights and security – and, after the experience of coronavirus, many citizens may choose security.

This brings us back to the issues we discussed in our research paper. Even before the coronavirus hit, there was already much discussion of a crisis of liberal democracy. In particular, there has been a debate about whether liberalism and democracy, which had long been assumed to go together, were becoming decoupled.

In particular, ‘illiberal democracies’ seemed to be emerging in many places including Europe (although, as we discuss in the paper, some analysts argue that the term is incoherent). This model of ‘illiberal democracy’ – in other words, one in which elections continue to be held but some individual rights are curtailed – may emerge stronger from this new crisis.

It is striking that Singapore – also seen as responding successfully to coronavirus – was seen as a paradigmatic ‘illiberal democracy’ long before Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán embraced the idea. In particular, there is little real opposition to the People’s Action Party, which has been in power since 1959.

Since this new crisis began, Orbán has gone further in suspending rights in Hungary. On March 11, he declared a state of emergency – as many other European countries have also done. But he has now gone further by passing legislation that allows him to govern by decree indefinitely and make it illegal to spread misinformation that undermines the government’s response to the pandemic. Clearly, this is a further decisive step in the deconsolidation of liberal democracy in Hungary.

So far, though, much of the discussion, particularly in the foreign policy world, has focused mainly on how to change popular perceptions that liberal democracies are failing in this crisis. For example, High Representative Josep Borrell, the European Union’s foreign minister, wrote last week of a 'battle of narratives'.

But this misses the point. It is not a matter of spinning the European model, but of taking seriously the substantial questions raised by the coronavirus about the ability of liberal democracies to adequately protect their citizens.

So far, there has been a noticeable worsening of relations that had already soured in recent years – the latest step being President Donald Trump’s suspension of US funding for the World Health Organization (WHO) in response to accusations of Chinese interference in its operations.

Should the world now simply prepare for a period of intense and extended hostility? As director of a policy institute founded 100 years ago in the shadow of the First World War, I believe we must do all in our power to avoid a return of the global strategic rivalries that blighted the 20th century.

Deepening suspicions

Of course, the outcome does not lie only in the hands of the US and Europe. In the 1930s, as much as they wanted to avoid another great war, British and French leaders were forced to respond to Germany’s aggression in central Europe. In the late 1940s, America’s instinct to disentangle itself from war-ravaged Europe was quickly tempered by the realization that the Soviet Union would impose or infiltrate Communist control as far into Europe as possible.

Today, those who warned that China - a one-party, surveillance state with a power-centralising leader - could never be treated as a global stakeholder feel vindicated. They see in COVID-19 an opportunity to harden policies towards China, starting by blocking all Chinese investment into 5G infrastructure and breaking international dependence on Chinese supply chains.

They can point to the fact that Chinese Communist Party officials in Wuhan initially prioritised sustaining economic growth and supressed reports about COVID-19’s capacity for human-to-human transmission, epitomised by their treatment of Dr Li Wenliang. They can highlight how Beijing’s obsession with denying Taiwan a voice in the WHO prevented Taiwanese input into the early analysis of the crisis. They can highlight the ways in which Beijing has instrumentalised its medical support for coronavirus-afflicted countries for diplomatic gain.

For their part, those in China who believed the US and Europe would never allow China’s return as a regional and world power see this criticism as further evidence. They can point to comments about this being the ‘Chinese virus’, a leaked biological weapon or China’s ‘Chernobyl moment’. ‘Wolf warrior’ Chinese diplomats have sought to outdo each other by challenging narratives about COVID-19, while propagating disinformation about the origins of the virus.

There are major risks if this blame game escalates, as it could in the lead-up to a fraught US presidential election. First, consciously uncoupling the US economically from China will make the post-coronavirus recovery that much harder. China already accounts for nearly 20% of world GDP but, unlike after the global financial crisis in 2008, it is fast becoming the world’s leading consumer market. Its financial stimulus measures need to be closely coordinated with the G7 and through the G20.

Second, Chinese scientists were the first to uncover the genetic code of the virus and shared it with the WHO as early as January 12, enabling the roll-out of effective testing around the world. They are now involved in the global search for a vaccine alongside American and European counterparts. While the Chinese government will remain a legitimate target for criticism, Chinese citizens and companies will contribute to many of the most important technical breakthroughs this century.

Third, if COVID-19 creates a long-term schism between China and the US, with Europeans caught on its edge, this could do deep damage to world order. China may become a less willing partner in lowering global greenhouse gas emissions and sharing renewable energy technologies; in helping African and other developing countries grow sustainably; and in helping to build a more resilient global health infrastructure.

Getting the balance right

But the COVID-19 crisis can also be the hinge point to a more coherent and self-interested transatlantic approach to China, one whose motto should be ‘beware but engage’. There should indeed be limits on state-backed Chinese investment in strategic US and European economic sectors, just as China limits Western access to its market. But the goal should be to lower barriers to trade and investment over time on a mutually beneficial and transparent basis, not to recreate an economic Cold War.

Chinese human rights violations, at home and abroad, should be called out. The dissemination of Chinese systems of citizen surveillance, which will be more popular in a post-coronavirus world, should be monitored and contested with US and European alternatives. And the extent of Chinese exports’ access to international markets should be conditional on China improving its phytosanitary standards - which protect humans, animals, and plants from diseases, pests, or contaminants - and strictly regulating unhygienic wet markets.

But to go further and try to make disengagement the dominant transatlantic policy as COVID-19 subsides will not only divide Europe and America. It will also contribute to a self-fulfilling prophecy; in which a resentful China grows apart from the US and Europe during a period where they must work together.

Given that it will likely be the world’s largest economy in 2030, how the US and Europe manage their relations with China after this crisis is a question at least as seminal as the one they faced after 1945 with the Soviet Union. In the ensuing years, the Soviet Union became a military superpower and competitor, but not an economic one. Containment was a viable, correct and, ultimately, successful strategy. The same options are not available this time. There will be no winners from a new Cold War with China.