Showing posts with label globalisation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label globalisation. Show all posts

Wednesday, 23 January 2019

Davos and the flatearthers (or "Why Populism is Winning")


In 2005 Thomas Freidman said that the "World is Flat" where he argued that globalisation (or Globalisation 3.0 - the digital revolution) equalised the opportunities between different places:
“Girls, when I was growing up, my parents used to say to me, ‘Tom, finish your dinner—people in China and India are starving.’ My advice to you is: Girls, finish your homework—people in China and India are starving for your jobs.” And in a flat world, they can have them, because in a flat world there is no such thing as an American job. There is just a job, and in more cases than ever before it will go to the best, smartest, most productive, or cheapest worker—wherever he or she resides.”
There's a lot of truth in Friedman's contention (and in his observation elsewhere that communism is the best system for making people equally poor whereas capitalism has made people unequally rich) but there's a problem - flatearthers are a minority. Not just a minority in developing countries in Asia and Africa but a minority in rich countries too. In a book at least partly in response to Freidman, Dutch geographer, Harm de Blij made the case that location still matters and that the world divided into a core and a periphery with the core - big cities, expensive suburbs, grand university towns - inhabited by flatearthers.

The annual World Economic Forum shindig at Davos is, to use de Blij's argument, the time when those flat earthers are most evident to those on the periphery (and remember that a trainee hairdresser in Barnsley is as much on that periphery - at least psychologically - as the subsistence farmer in Tanzania or the kid in Sao Paolo's slums). The blanket media coverage of the shiny beautiful people in that expensive Swiss ski resort allows us to press our noses up against the glass of the flatearther bubble, to peek inside their splendid world.

The problem is that something has changed in how we see these splendid people. Before we were slightly envious of their jet-setting lives and were engaged with the fawning attention given to flatearthers by the media (whose top folk are, of course, all fully part of the flat earth life). Now many people can't see beyond the irony of wealthy and powerful people sitting in an exclusive resort to, they tell us, discuss the challenges facing the world including how they can help the majority of the world who aren't part of their flat earth. This loss of reverence for the rich and powerful (even when it throws up ghastly leaders like Donald Trump) is, I suspect, one of the driving forces behind what those flatearthers have chosen to call "populism".

Where once people saw important and intelligent people brainstorming solutions to the world's problems, they now see instead rich and powerful people doing deals. Davos seems to be about who gets the grand jobs in UN agencies, international NGOs and big business, more to do with politicians handing out favours in return for future riches, and the opportunity for those in charge of economies to close doors for those people outside the flatearther bubble. We see a line of fifty private jets parked at Davos's nearest airport and then wonder at the chutzpah of those jets' owners sitting down to talk about climate change (including taxes on air tickets, petrol and other stuff that ordinary people rely on for their mundane lives).

The problem is that the reaction to the preening arrogance of Davos is now to reject globalisation, to engage with the sort of anti-trade, anti-migrant agenda that we see from Trump. Some see this agenda as deflection - "we're doing something but not so much that it damages our shiny world" - but whether or not this is the case, the policies being promoted are popular. What too few people are doing is making a different populist case, one that says international trade, globalisation and migration are good things but that the technocratic mindset of Davos reinforces the myth that these things are somehow the gifts of powerful people who control government.

I commented on Twitter that Davos is the Oscars for crony capitalists - it's all about the fix, about a get-around for the problems of democracy. This is the world of David Cameron's 'Global Race' where business, media, entertainment and philanthropy mix and plan (without having to bother with those pesky voters) how the world will be better. Plus of course who gets the big contracts, the cushy jobs and the consultancy on whatever boondoggles are proposed.

None of this is to say that the World Economic Forum is a bad idea or that nothing good comes of it but perhaps its organisers need to take a step back and ask whether the impression the event gives is, given those populist pressures, the right one. Perhaps a spoonful or two of humility might help as well as perhaps a less opulent location. Above all we maybe need to drop the hubris, get away from the idea that the grand people gathered in Davos are the only ones wise enough to make the right decisions for the planet. There are over seven billion humans across the world and every single one of them is just as important as the few hundred gathered in that posh Swiss ski resort - if the Davos crowd can't get what that means then the populists will win and the world will be worse for it.

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Saturday, 7 October 2017

A truly global economy...


From Don Boudreaux:
A truly global economy is simply what happens when governments do not obstruct their citizens’ decisions to trade with foreigners. Each of these countless decisions will be made in light of each buyer’s and each seller’s assessment of the benefits and costs of trading with foreigners as compared to trading with fellow citizens. If, for example, an American retailer believes that the benefits to it of buying inventories from foreign factories are higher than the costs (including the risks) of doing so, it will buy from foreign factories. Competition at the retail level then ensures that these lower costs are passed on to domestic consumers in the form of lower prices or higher product quality (or both). If this retailer discovers that its initial assessment is mistaken, it will stop buying from those foreign factories or it and the foreign factories will re-arrange the details of their contracts. In either case there is no call for government to artificially restrict the retailer’s – or any other of its citizens’ – freedom to engage in commerce with foreigners.

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Sunday, 30 April 2017

Bars, birth rates and gentle decline - Europe's left behind places



Every Italy village has one of these. This one, Bar Centrale, is in Fontanelice a village in the Bolognese Appenines and it's pretty typical. Go inside and there's a bar (and a barman or waitress) dominated by the obligtory coffee machine and, sitting on the cheap plastic chairs around rickedy tables are a bunch of old men. They probably won't be drinking, it's not an Italian thing really, but may be playing cards, reading Corriere dello Sport or one of the seemingly endless local papers Italy enjoys, and talking in that 'putting the world to rights' way loved of men in bars everywhere.

The wall behind the bar will feature a large poster, maybe framed, of a football team - usually from some victorious season long, long ago rather than the current team. In Fontanelice it was a black and white framed photograph of a Juventus squad from (judging from the hairstyles) some time in the 1970s. I'm guessing that, like bar decor everywhere, it's just there not causing offence but gradually losing both definition and relevance as the years pass by.

Just as for us in England, the pub was the heart of the world, these bars represent that old Italy of community, the shared experience of the place we live. It's true that little Italian towns and villages also have trattoria and even full blown restaurants but the bar, its decor and regulars slowly fading, is the common factor, the thing that every little place has. And I guess that, just like the English pub, these bars are finding times tough. I'd note that the slightly posher place we stayed - Dozza just outside Imola - didn't have a bar of this sort in the old town (an osteria served this function in the evening but during the day there was just the cafe and gelateria in the public park).

There are lots of demographic factors driving this decline - the bars may still be there but for how much longer? The most important though, like a lot of other places in Europe, is that Italians are quite literally dying out:
Italy’s birth rate has more halved since the ‘baby boom’ of the 1960s, with the number of births falling to 488,000 in 2015 – fewer than in any other years since the modern state was formed in 1861.

“If we carry on as we are and fail to reverse the trend, there will be fewer than 350,000 births a year in 10 years’ time, 40 percent less than in 2010 — an apocalypse,” the minister, Beatrice Lorenzin, said in an interview with La Repubblica on Sunday.

“In five years we have lost more than 66,000 births (per year) — that is the equivalent of a city the size of Siena,” the minister added. “If we link this to the increasing number of old and chronically ill people, we have a picture of a moribund country.”
Italy has Western Europe's lowest birth rate - just 1.39 well below the accepted replacement level of 2.1 - which is why you see so few children in these little towns and villages. The wonderful culture of these places - relaxed, welcoming - that us visitors want to celebrate is threatened by this low birth rate. And the result - just as we've seen in Japan - is that villages and small towns depopulate and are eventually abandoned:
The phenomenon is happening across the country, from mountain-top villages in the Alps and the Apennines to tiny terracotta-roofed hamlets in the sun-baked valleys of Sicily and Sardinia.

Nearly 2,500 villages are at risk of turning into ghost communities, with a startling two million homes abandoned or left empty by their owners, according to the report, which was compiled with the help of the National Association of Italian Councils.
We will see this process repeated elsewhere in Europe, at least in places that either don't attract or don't welcome immigrants. And, as we know, the problem with those immigrants is that they arrive without the cultural legacy that might sustain the bar, the cafe and the pub. Moreover they're not heading to those deep rural areas of Europe but to the towns, resorts and cities that provide the work they came here for. In France it's clear:
The visible decline of so many historic city centers is intertwined with these anxieties. Losing the ancient French provincial capital is another blow to Frenchness — tangible evidence of a disappearing way of life that resonates in France in the same way that the hollowing out of main streets did in the United States decades ago. A survey of French towns found that commercial vacancies have almost doubled to 10.4 percent in the past 15 years. As these towns have declined, voters have often turned sharply rightward. Albi is traditionally centrist, but the same conditions of decline and political anxiety are present, too.
Politics aside (although this sense of decline is an important factor in the kick-back against the Great City of the West and its denizens) we're seeing the same problems. A glance at the people walking the high street - older, wearier, less content - in an English provincial town will be matched in France, Spain and in that lovely little bar in Fontanelice. We tend to talk of these people as 'left behind' which is unkind and largely untrue. What we should talk about is how the places themselves are left behind, victims of the ageing population, too few young people, out-of-town shops and the World Wide Web.

In Italy, with a sclerotic economy, high unemployment and Europe's lowest female participation rate (just 37%), the problems are reflected everywhere - in the deathly quiet daytime streets of small towns, in the industrial zones littered with empty factories, rotting teeth in the once mighty bite of Italian manufacturing, and it the desperation of a government offering payments of eighty Euros a month as a 'Baby Bonus' for new mums.

If we're seeking Europe's problems we shouldn't be looking at immigrant ghettoes in Montpelier or Rotterdam, nor should we be screeching about house prices in Central London or Barcelona, rather we should be turning our attention to the left behind provincial places where the things we treasure in our cuture are at their most profound. The slow death of the English pub, the struggles of the French provincial high street, and the decline of the Italian village's cafe-bar - these are what people see and don't understand even if, as we know, they are partly to blame.

International 'anywhere' people - Flat Earthers as geographer Harm de Blij called them - may be right about global trade and business (and my head tells me they are) but when I look at those quiet, backwater places once comfortable and thriving my heart tells me we've got something wrong. And worse that the only people talking about that feeling in my heart are those blaming others - immigrants, foreigners, Muslims, bankers - for the problem rather than looking for a way forward. If this doesn't change, if the Flat Earthers continue to see the Great City of the West as the answer, then Europe and America's political divisions will only worsen and deepen.

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Sunday, 15 January 2017

Putting on the postman's uniform - a return to local leadership


In David Brin's book, The Postman, he describes how a man in a post-disaster USA dons the uniform and, as if by magic, is transformed into that same reliable and trustworthy working-class public servant. In exploring the importance of connections between places, Brin (in common with many other writers exploring a post-disaster world) touches on different forms of organisation. We wander from self-reliant little homes with tough but loving families through suspicious and fearful villages or towns to the most dystopic world of the Big Man and the warlord.

In all the book's places we see what many would see as a crisis of leadership. In some places there is no leadership beyond the family, an entirely independent pseudo-pioneer world - a sort of Farnham's Freehold without the casual racism. In others we see safety and security achieved at the cost of compliance with oppression - Zamyatin's We with tatty leather jackets. Elsewhere we glimpse the entirely lawless where, in a world of scarcity, the utility function drives human decisions to their logical conclusion. Here's Deirdre McCloskey in "The Bourgeois Virtues":
"The economist and historian Alexander Field has based a similar argument on biology. He notes that on meeting a stranger in the desert with bread and water that you want, you do not simply kill him. Why not? Sheer self-interest implies you would, and if you would, he would, too, in anticipation, and the game's afoot. Once you and he have chatted for a while and built up trust, naturally, you will refrain."
Or perhaps not if the utilitarians are right? In their world the task of the leader, or so it seems, is to decide - by whatever means - what is the greatest good for the greatest number and implement that good. Such, for all the deal-making, fancy words, thought leadership and opinionating, is the core purpose of those gatherings of great and good - Davos, Bilderburg, summits, conferences and think tanks. Such things are the manifestation, the logical conclusion of a philosophical tradition running from Plato through Mill and Bentham to A C Grayling: leadership from the wise.

The problem today isn't that we are entering some sort of dystopia but rather that the most essential part of leadership - that someone has to follow - has been lost in our desire to perfect the manner in which leaders lead and the things that they lead on. Here from the Millennium Project:




I haven't got the Davos agenda but, while the words may vary, this 'conscious leaders' agenda' pretty much covers what they'll talk about (other than how to get themselves more power and money of course - that's not on the official leaders' agenda). What we have here is the agenda but the problems for those leaders in Davos is that, especially for the political ones - plus those pompously titled thought leaders - it's the lack of followers that is the agitation. This is the 'populism' that is troubling so many of the great and good - for them it is, indeed, better characterised as 'unpopularism'.

The problem here is that these leaders, for all that they seem secure in their power, are uncertain how long this will remain the case. We were all pretty certain that Donald Trump wouldn't win the US presidential election - and we were wrong. We were less certain but assured by our leaders that the UK wouldn't vote to leave the Euorpean Union - and we were wrong. Elsewhere we've seen the President of France become so unpopular that he withdrew from any prospect of seeking re-election. In Spain and Greece social democratic parties are being replaced by radical parties of the left and the big losers to left and right in Holland, Sweden and Germany aren't conservatives but rather Europe's once dominant centre-left.

And the image above of the world and its problems? That is an image constructed by the centre-left - a reflection of big state, big government models for the future. It's not that the content is wrong but rather that the model assumes that the wise - Philosopher Kings - will provide the leadership and this leadership will be global. These are the people who Harm de Blij says live in a flat world, flitting effortlessly from place to place across the world and inhabiting a community where they genuinely feel like Tom Paine's citizens of the world. The problem is that 99% of the worlds population aren't in this flat world - they're, in de Blij's words, either locals living in the global periphery or mobals trying to get from that periphery to the core where they can have a better life.
"From the vantage point of a high-floor room in the Shanghai Hyatt, the Mumbai Oberoi, or the Dubai Hilton, or from the business-class window seat on Singapore Airlines, the world seems flat indeed. Millions of world-flatteners move every day from hotel lobby to airport limo to first-class lounge, laptop in hand, uploading, outsourcing, offshoring as they travel, adjusting the air conditioning as they go"
Such 'flat earth dwellers' understand the locals and mobals. After all they've listened to a thought leader speak, they've read a precis of the current academic research and they reviewed documents from a UN agency or two plus, for balance, Oxfam or some other NGO. The right noises about poverty, economic development, humanitarianism and growth drop from their lips. But they do not know these locals and mobals. Those people, the ones they see from the limo window, serving them tea in the hotel and marching angrily about how their livelihoods are threatened - they've stopped following these Philosopher Kings. Our 'flat earth dwellers' are no longer leaders but rather a bunch of folk who can see a lot of locals and mobals pushing against the glass of their bubble. And they are scared.

None of this is to say that enlightenment liberalism is wrong or a problem. After all, despite the best efforts of some to suggest otherwise, capitalism has made us richer and is doing the same for those locals and mobals de Blij worries about. Rather it's to suggest that we need to rethink the model of leadership that is revealed at Davos and to recognise that this approach - consultative, knowledge-focused but still globally focused and top down - no longer fits what's needed.

At a board away day recently (from where I pinched that image of the world's agenda) a couple of almost throwaway comments struck me as important. The first of these was that we're moving to a self-service world, quite literally through the power of the smartphone in our pocket. Want to know where something is? Phone. Need a picture? Phone. Want to buy some car insurance? Phone. I forget where I read it but if your business idea doesn't work on a phone, don't bother.

Many of the presumptions about public services, transport, retailing and decision-making no longer apply. It's not that we don't still need leadership but that that leadership needs to be more dispersed, connected and local than what we see today. The economics writer, Tim Worstall taked about Bjorn's Beer Effect:
Instead they have what I call the Bjorn's Beer Effect. You're in a society of 10,000 people. You know the guy who raises the local tax money and allocates that local tax money. You also know where he has a beer on a Friday night. More importantly Bjorn knows that everyone knows he collects and spends the money: and also where he has a beer on a Friday. That money is going to be rather better spent than if it travels off possibly 3,000 miles into some faceless bureaucracy.
In a self-service world we need to look more at local considerations than at the systems needed to deliver services - the phone in your pocket can deliver those services and you can work it out for yourself. But you still want advice, help - dare I say it, leadership - but this should be at your scale: local, responsive and focused. Most of the world's problems - pretty much all of them with the exception of that huge asteroid - don't require a global response but require us, at most, to change our personal behaviour. This needs dispersed local leadership rather than grand gatherings in nice cities.

The second throwaway from my meeting was about how people work - specifically Generation Y and Z but I suspect this applies much more broadly - in a world where access to knowledge (and fake knowledge) approaches being universal. We heard a description of a noisy, confused room of young people discussing the task at hand, phones being consulted, everybody talking, groups forming and unforming - there's leadership here but not in the traditional, dominant, top-down manner that our Philosopher Kings would want. And the leader on one task is different from the leader on another task - all a bit like The Apprentice!

This again reflects the manner in which connectivity - something that mobile technology is bringing to de Blij's locals - now forms the core function in leadership. The leader is no longer in that high castle and, tomorrow, may step aside because a different person has stepped up to lead. All this suggests that the established power structures of representative democracy and bureaucracy serve less of a purpose - if we self-serve we don't need that big bureaucracy and, therefore, its great leader. And if we're connected, involved and engaged we have less need to choose someone else to do the connection, involvement and engaging.

We'll still need the public servant but that person won't be a president, chief executive or civil service mandarin. Rather that servant will be Bjorn having a drink on a Friday with his friends and neighbours or Claire playing Lego with the kids in the local pre-school. Someone who, to return to where we started, has put on the postman's uniform.

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Friday, 7 October 2016

World citizenship - a vain celebration of the 'one per cent's' power

“Independence is my happiness, and I view things as they are, without regard to place or person; my country is the world, and my religion is to do good.”
So exclaimed Thomas Paine the great polemicist of liberty. And it sounds great this 'citizen of the world' stuff. It makes us feel ever so grand, that we have risen above the mundane and fractious things that dominate mere nations - our horizons are broader, our eyes brighter and our nobility nobler that those tied to the narrow bigotry of patriotism.

A short while ago I'd have been with you all proclaiming that there are bigger, grander things than nation and arguing that, like Tom Paine, independence of mind escapes us from the bounds of petty nationalism. And it's a lovely comforting feeling being a citizen of the world except for one minor point - there is no 'world' citizenship for us to hold. For sure there are some world institutions - the United Nations and its assorted children, the World Trade Organisation, FIFA, the Olympic Movement - but these are clubs of countries not things that have citizenship.

But despite this, I'm going to indulge you citizens of the world and pretend that your claim has some merit, that saying "I'm a citizen of the world" is a reality rather than an idle piece of philosophical vanity. What does it mean? As citizens of a country do we have duties or does that citizenship confer on us rights and privileges? As citizens don't we expect some things from the government to which we've handed some of our sovereignty, our liberty?

Here in the UK the deal on citizenship (or subjecthood as we properly are) is that our government protects in various way. We expect a police force to stop bad people hurting us or taking our property. We expect some degree of welfare that supports us when we need help. And we expect to be consulted - imperfectly but consulted nonetheless - on the things the government of our nation does. Citizenship isn't some vague statement of cultural association - "but we've so much to share across the world" - but a real, solid and practical thing. A deal between us as individuals and our nation.

So in this world you say you're a citizen of, how does that solid and practical thing play out? Surely this is the myth of John F Kennedy's foreign policy and the neoconservatism it spawned - the idea that we have some sort of duty to the world to enforce our systems onto other places, by force if necessary? Isn't this world citizenship just a personal justification of 'regime change' - after all those poor Afghans and Iraqis weren't properly citizens of our world so we muse, it's a duty to, bring them into the fold of our world polity? And how do we explain a world for citizens that includes the oppression of women in Saudi Arabia, the executing of gays in Syria and the war-created famines that scourge Africa?

Or is your world citizenship something different? A clubbing together of the "1%", those fortunate and wealthy people from everywhere in world who can gather together in fancy hotels, at swish conference venues and in fine restaurants where they can discuss the plight of the remaining 99% and what should be done about it? Is your world citizenship simply another - slightly self-serving - term for what Harm de Blij called 'globals'. These are the people who in de Blij's words have 'flattened' the earth but who control, dominate and exploit the 'locals', the people who are outside that club of world citizens. Such people remind me of J V Jones' Archbishop of Rorn - superficially caring, splendidly 'of the people', yet in truth greedy, devious and exploitative.

So forgive me if I reject your world citizenship as the vainest of chimera, a thing of little substance and almost no relevance to most of the people living on the world. This isn't to reject cultural (or for that matter physical) exploration or to suggest that my rejecting citizenship is also to reject free trade, exchange and movement. In the end the point is that citizenship only works when it is real, when the citizen can see the benefit and when the polity to which we commit as citizens does its part of the bargain.

In the end these allegiances work when people relate to them. And we know that the strongest ties are those closest to us - family, friends, neighbours. Yes we are shocked by the terrible scenes from a war in the middle east, from a famine in Africa or a flood in South Asia. But we'll pay more attention and are more likely to act on the news that our cousin has cancer. We'll get up from the settee and walk to the village hall if they propose building 500 houses out back. We'll protest about a new landfill or a road scheme. But the most we'll do for the victims of those wars, famines and floods is make a donation when the process is easily done while staying firmly sat on that settee.

None of this makes any of us bad people, it's just that, as Kipling told us, god gave us small hearts and we give those hearts to the places and the people we love. And we're pretty comfortable with living in a place where we share language, history, culture and ideas. Instead of highfalutin' concepts like citizenship, we should instead think of community, of place and how we can, to paraphrase Stephen Stills, love the place we're in.

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Thursday, 24 November 2011

The international market for labour is a fact...

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Often - especially when matters of pay and tax are discussed by left-wing political types - the competitive international market for highly skilled labour is dismissed as some sort of figment dreamt up by those with the fat salaries. Well think again folks:


The survey of HR leaders and senior business executives from 140 organisations worldwide found that 88% of respondents believed that global mobility needed to be more integrated into core HR processes - such as the talent agenda - and act as a strategic partner to the business.

Alignment between global mobility functions and talent programmes could become an even more important issue in the near future, with three-quarters (75%) of organisations anticipating that the number of internationally mobile employees in their workforce will increase over the next three to five years.

An international market for labour - and one that's growing.

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