This article appears in the June 2022 issue of The American Prospect magazine. Subscribe here.
Hyper-globalization is dead, killed by the rise of China, the supply chain catastrophe, the COVID pandemic, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and the belated recognition that ultra-free trade was mainly designed to serve financial elites. The Biden administration is pursuing a course correction and looking inward for economic security. Many other nations are taking this approach. Even some businesses recognize that the risk of disruption brought about by extreme globalization doesn’t justify the allure of weak regulation and low labor costs.
Despite this shift, a great deal of global trade will continue, under different rules. The task of the next decade is to figure out what those rules will look like. Is there a path back to a trading system that allows nation-states more room to govern capitalism, as in the Bretton Woods era? Can the successor system offer a better deal to developing countries of the Global South? Might a new trade regime give more weight to climate goals, labor rights, public health, or public provision of goods? And where does China fit in?
The next trade regime will not be a single universal set of rules, as the WTO’s sponsors imagined. It will be a hybrid that could provide more space to pursue progressive economic and social policies, nationally and globally, if we don’t succumb to the lingering influence of trade traditionalists in government and their allies on Wall Street.
Corrupted Ideology Meets Corrupted Institutions
By hyper-globalization, I mean the premise that cross-border trade and capital movements should be free from regulatory restraints and national industrial policies. This became the new definition of “free trade” and the object of intense U.S. diplomacy beginning in the 1980s. After 1990, this vision was codified in the World Trade Organization (WTO) and in dozens of bilateral deals. Promoters of the shift invoked economic theory, but in practice it was driven by the corporate push to use trade rules aggressively to undermine national regulation of capitalism, from banking (rebranded as “trade in financial services”) to industry-created pollution.
NAFTA allowed corporations to sue in special courts to challenge health, safety, and environmental regulations as incursions on their trading rights. Within the EU, long-standing guarantees of collective bargaining were overturned as impinging on the cross-border rights of capital. WTO rules became obstacles to distributing free or cheap vaccines in a worldwide pandemic. Hyper-globalization was the global face of neoliberalism, as well as its enforcer.
From the start, the system was a bundle of contradictions. Western leaders who sponsored this shift knew from their national experience that unregulated markets are far from efficient. For almost a century, nations dealt with the anomalies of markets by regulating finance, labor, health, and the environment. They used industrial and research subsidies and public ownership to help their economies develop. Wherever nations failed to regulate, capitalism created gross inequality and environmental disasters, as well as periodic financial bubbles, systemic crashes, and prolonged depressions. But through some mysterious alchemy, when commerce crossed borders, unregulated markets were supposedly efficient after all. Free-traders never explained the inconsistency.
Under the dominant consensus toward “most favored nation” treatment, all nations were to get the same access to each other’s markets, with no special deals. But the principle of equal access was increasingly honored in the breach. After the collapse of multilateral trade negotiations in Seattle in 1999, the U.S. moved increasingly to bilateral deals known as free trade agreements (FTAs), typically with export-dependent Third World countries. The basic template was to demand that the client country give U.S.-based corporations access on the terms they wanted, and in return the lucky country’s products got preferential entry to the U.S. market. This was the opposite of multilateralism.
The tip-off to who was really behind this push is the treatment of national sovereignty. In general, U.S. corporations and politicians, especially Republicans, have fiercely resisted signing all manner of global agreements on human rights and the environment, as an interference with American sovereignty. But when it comes to hamstringing the ability of the U.S. government to regulate capitalism, American elites are all too eager to cede sovereignty to the WTO.
Since 2000, the global trade regime has also tolerated an extreme double standard for China. The Clinton administration believed that allowing China into the WTO with no enforceable quid pro quos would nudge China in the direction of political democracy and a less statist economy, as well as reducing the bilateral trade deficit. The opposite has occurred on all fronts. But the opening to China has been extremely lucrative to U.S. corporations and banks, which were the prime promoters of the deal. In the politics of trade, China now benefits by having politically powerful U.S. financiers and customers as a kind of Trojan horse that weakens any deviation from the status quo. There is no such foreign Trojan horse in Leninist China.
AP PHOTO
Allowing China into the WTO did not nudge them toward political democracy and a less statist economy.
A Fragmented Trading System
Today, the world economy has fragmented into different nations that play by entirely different rules. These include kleptocratic and extractive capitalist nations (Russia, Saudi Arabia); the Chinese hybrid of mercantilist state capitalism and Leninism; major economies that use the state when expedient (Japan, Korea, India, and Brazil); and smaller nations that find themselves allied with trading blocs of one large player or another. The WTO got everyone to sing from the same hymnal but failed utterly to harmonize actual practices.
The pandemic and the related supply chain crisis put one more nail in the globalist coffin. As the Prospect has documented, just-in-time production relying on far-flung sources of global supply was supposed to make production more efficient. But the enthusiasts of this model left the risk of disruption out of their calculations. The supply chain crisis also laid bare the extreme dependence of U.S. industry on China as a sole supplier.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine led to a range of sanctions and embargoes that technically violate WTO rules, but are accepted as emergency measures of war. Future threats to unfettered trade, from political unrest to the climate crisis, further informed the dire need to change this concentrated model, which now seems engineered for maximum risk.
It fell to Donald Trump to steal the Democrats’ clothes and jettison hyper-globalization. He did it in a way that was xenophobic and offensive to America’s allies. But once Trump acted, it became impossible to put Humpty-Dumpty back together. President Biden has broken with the trade orthodoxy of his three Democratic predecessors and is acting to restore America’s capacity to regulate capitalism and to use industrial policies to reshore industries and jobs, and in a far more coherent and strategic fashion than Trump.
The current trade regime, though largely designed by U.S. administrations, has simply not served the U.S. national interest.
There are several possible paths going forward. We already have a rough template for a wholly different global trading order: the charter of the proposed International Trade Organization that 56 nations launched in 1948. The ITO was supposed to be the third of the Bretton Woods institutions, along with the World Bank and the IMF. But while the latter two went forward, the ITO was never ratified by the U.S. Senate, and was stillborn.
As originally conceived in the Roosevelt era, the three Bretton Woods institutions were understood as bulwarks against laissez-faire, the global counterpart to a domestic economy of managed capitalism and full employment. The World Bank would supply public capital; the IMF would advance loans on generous terms to spare debtor nations the need to pursue perverse austerity; and the ITO would reconcile expanded trade with labor and social standards to prevent trade from creating a race to the bottom. Those were the days! When the ITO died, a much weaker body, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) served mainly as a venue for negotiations, but without the enforcement powers that were later given to the WTO.
Today, there are calls for a new Bretton Woods. Draft legislation in the spirit of the ITO has been circulating among progressive members of Congress. Nations receiving barrier-free access to other markets would have to meet core labor, environmental, and consumer-protection standards. If they did not, nations that respected such standards would be free to impose social tariffs or other barriers.
But despite the disgrace of the current system, there is no politically feasible way of converting the WTO into something more like an ITO. Fundamental changes in the WTO require the assent of all its members. Even if smaller members could be pressured into going along, there is no support among most of the larger member nations for anything like the ITO.
A further problem is that there are no provisions for kicking a nation out of the WTO for even the most flagrant violations of its norms. So even as China chronically breaks the rules and Russia invades Ukraine, we are stuck with both China and Russia as members. The United States, as the world’s largest market, could threaten to leave the WTO unless fundamental changes were made. But though the Biden administration has been far more willing to challenge the orthodoxy than its Democratic predecessors, it’s hard to imagine Biden threatening to quit the WTO.
That leaves two alternatives: incremental reform, or malign neglect.
WTO: The Case for Malign Neglect
The current trade regime, though largely designed by U.S. administrations, has simply not served the U.S. national interest. “We have the world’s most open markets, we have a chronic trade deficit, and WTO dispute-resolution panels keep ruling against the U.S.,” says Robert Lighthizer, who served as Trump’s top trade official.
Though a nominal Republican, Lighthizer was no Trumper. He was the best-informed critic of the hyper-global trading system on the scene. His views on economic nationalism were more those of a progressive Democrat when it came to industrial policy and good jobs. Through sheer luck, Trump decided to name him as U.S. trade representative.
Lighthizer came up with a bit of strategic genius mixed with diplomatic hardball: sidelining the WTO by having the U.S. veto any more appointments to the institution’s quasi-court, known as the appellate body. That body now lacks a quorum. With the U.S. blocking nominations, the WTO’s power to issue binding rulings is now kaput. Letting the WTO wither on the vine opens up space to pursue industrial policies and impose countervailing tariffs that might otherwise fall afoul of WTO rules. In this moment, the U.S. can make free access to its markets conditional, while rebuilding domestic capacity.
If the U.S. were to instead seek some modest, incremental improvements at the WTO, it would come under pressure to start cooperating with the organization again, beginning with restoring authority to the appellate body. In many ways, the U.S. is better off leaving the WTO sidelined. “The WTO can revert to being a standing body for trade negotiation, like the old GATT, but with no power of binding arbitration,” Light-hizer says.
One key area where even modest WTO reform has been blocked by industry power is the idea of waiving WTO rules on intellectual property, known by the acronym TRIPS, to expedite distribution of COVID vaccines. Biden proposed a TRIPS waiver early in his administration. The most recent TRIPS proposal by WTO director-general Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala falls far short of what’s needed to treat vaccines as social goods. “If you can’t get a temporary, emergency TRIPS waiver in a global pandemic when millions of people have died and more will without access to effective vaccines and treatments, when are you going to get it?” says Lori Wallach, a prominent critic of the WTO trade regime.
Lighthizer’s other breakthrough, which also violated WTO rules, was to act unilaterally to defend U.S. economic interests. The process for proving that China illicitly subsidized its industries, one case at a time, was impossibly cumbersome. So Lighthizer decided to levy a general tariff against China’s mercantilist system as a whole, averaging 25 percent. This was imprecise, but ballpark accurate. With WTO dispute settlement out of business, there was little China could do other than retaliate, leading Lighthizer to further increase tariffs on some sectors.
There was shock and dismay among free-traders. But “the Earth did not tilt off its axis, as confidently predicted,” as Wallach likes to say. Mostly, trade went on, just as it did in earlier eras when tariffs were the norm. Indeed, China’s trade surplus with the U.S. has grown, though the tariffs did create some shelter for the U.S. to build key industries.
Trump did not grasp the details of Lighthizer’s trade diplomacy, but he liked the idea that the headline could be anti-China. In the infighting, Lighthizer won out over the administration’s corporate faction, led by Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin. When Biden came in, he fine-tuned the tariffs but retained Lighthizer’s overall strategy.
The tariffs do two things that are somewhat at odds with each other, a contradiction that Biden papers over. They are described as leverage against China—part of a broad diplomatic strategy for a reset of the U.S.-China relationship. But they also create some space for industries that have been decimated by Chinese mercantilism to survive. In that respect, there is a case for making at least some of the tariffs permanent.
For example, China’s policy of subsidizing steel production led to a global supply glut, by dumping steel onto global markets at prices that make it impossible for U.S. integrated producers to compete. Since steel tariffs were imposed in 2018, America’s domestic steel industry has made a modest recovery. Tougher enforcement of Buy American laws would also help. Those laws are also a flagrant (yet salutary) violation of the WTO regime, whose rules on procurement ban domestic preference.
Textiles are another important example of the value of the tariffs. The United States no longer manufactures much apparel, but still has a viable textile industry with about 600,000 jobs. The raised consciousness about overreliance on China during a pandemic began with the shortage of PPE, which are of course textiles.
U.S.-made textiles also provide the materials for much of Central America’s apparel industry. Tariffs on Chinese textiles have been an important factor in keeping domestic textile production viable. Though enforcement has been far from perfect, the Dominican Republic–Central America Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA-DR) does include labor rights, something entirely lacking in China trade. This supply chain of U.S. textiles providing material for Central American apparel is an example of regional trade arrangements with at least modestly better social standards. Such regional deals are likely to expand, as the dystopian idea of universal free trade fades.
ANNA MONEYMAKER/AP PHOTO
Robert Lighthizer, Trump’s trade representative, used U.S. veto power over the WTO to block appointments to its appellate body, sidelining the organization.
The Sound of One Hand Clapping
Assertive policies to contain the impact of China’s predatory trade policies are necessary if we are to restore domestic supply. But they are far from sufficient. In industries where China dominates the entire supply chain as well as the finished product, the U.S. will not regain production capacity without a strategic government-wide industrial policy.
Exhibit A is the solar industry. China’s predatory pricing has been successful at driving out U.S. and other manufactures, not just of solar panels but of the multiple components that go into them. As a result, even domestic makers of solar panels depend on made-in-China inputs.
The issue is complicated by two overlapping U.S. policies. One is the tariff on Chinese solar exports, which dates to the Obama presidency. The other is the Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act, which prohibits imports of products made with slave labor. Much of China’s solar industry is based in the Uyghur heartland province of Xinjiang.
China has sought to avoid the tariffs by transshipping its solar products to other East Asian countries and pretending that the production originated there. The Commerce Department has launched a full-scale investigation of this subterfuge. But because of the dependence of U.S. solar producers on Chinese inputs, there has been tremendous pressure from both domestic manufacturers and solar panel installers to kill or water down the investigation or allow waivers.
The next trade regime is likely to be a series of regional arrangements by nations with kindred policies.
Both the “domestic” manufacturers, represented by the Solar Energy Industries Association and including several companies that actually originate in China, and the installers, represented by the American Clean Power Association, and some of their allies in the environmental movement function as part of the China lobby. The New York Times recently ran a totally one-sided piece telling the story of endangered solar supplies entirely from the viewpoint of these industries, without one word on the implications for trade policy. “Around the country,” according to the breathless article, “solar companies are delaying projects, scrambling for supplies, shutting down construction sites and warning that tens of billions of dollars—and tens of thousands of jobs—are at risk.”
The administration is divided on this question. John Kerry, Biden’s presidential envoy for climate, has been lobbying to sideline the Commerce Department action, on the grounds that we need the solar panels to meet environmental goals. Kerry is also an enthusiast of the wishful premise that collaboration with China on climate generally should take priority over other goals.
The larger problem is that the U.S. government does not have a single senior official or office in charge of a comprehensive reshoring policy for solar, either at the Departments of Commerce, Energy, or the White House. If there were, a solar czar could fashion a coherent strategy, giving some temporary relief from tariffs to the extent that U.S. producers needed components to rebuild domestic supply chains. But though the White House has published two superb and detailed reports on the need for reshoring supply, there is no program to implement it, because responsibility is fragmented.
The Undertow
U.S. Trade Representative Katherine Tai is a resolute supporter of a heterodox approach to trade. Until Tai, the main job of USTR was to find new trade deals to negotiate, and to work with industry to dismantle supposed trade barriers. Tai has no interest in new deals and is working hard to retain the key China tariffs, in the face of corporate opposition and pushback from others in the administration.
As the Prospect has reported, pressure for tariff cuts originated in the desire of some White House staffers to be able to claim that Biden was working to reduce inflation. The problem with that is that the tariffs began in 2017–2018, and inflation did not spike until late 2021. Public pronouncements in mid-April from Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen and White House staffer Daleep Singh calling for tariff cuts produced serious pushback from inside, notably from Tai, and also from outside the administration, notably from labor.
A problem, however, is that unlike previous people who held the post of U.S. trade representative, Tai does not have a direct personal relationship with the president. Biden has a very narrow inner circle of people with whom he goes back decades. Tai has to report (or complain) through them.
The old trade regime may be dead, but traditionalists keep trying to resuscitate it. Not only is there continuing pressure to cut or repeal the China tariffs and to freely let in components needed as part of the domestic supply chain. Free-trade careerists and corporate lobbyists also keep pushing for the U.S. to do more trade deals. “Big Tech is trying to hijack the trade agenda to undermine President Biden and Congress’s plans to combat Big Tech abuses and break their monopoly powers while simultaneously rolling back the best gig worker, privacy, and competition policies in other countries,” says Lori Wallach. “To try to evade detection, they are selling this whole operation as a new ‘digital trade’ initiative.”
One such deal, the Trans-Pacific Partnership, was advertised as an agreement with other Pacific nations to link them more closely to the U.S. and to serve as a counterweight to Chinese regional influence. On closer inspection, the deal was mainly a corporate wish list led by pharma, tech, and Wall Street, which did nothing to contain China. Of the TPP’s 30 chapters, 24 impose limits on food, financial, and other regulations and provide drug firms new monopoly rights. TPP, like NAFTA, also created a special corporate-dominated court for foreign investors. TPP was to be the crowning achievement of Obama’s corporate free-traders, led by trade rep and former Citigroup executive Michael Froman. But Trump, whom nobody could accuse of being soft on China, pulled the U.S. out of the TPP.
A version of the deal without the U.S. lives on as the rebranded Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership. Trade traditionalists and corporate lobbyists want the Biden administration to join. There is, mercifully, little interest on the administration’s part. Indeed, so useless is the revised TPP as an instrument to limit China that Beijing has raised the idea of joining it.
A more promising regional deal now under discussion, which could include labor and social rights, is called the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework (IPEF). The devil is in the details, but the broad idea is that the U.S. and other nations in China’s neighborhood need a set of common principles. But unlike the corporate-sponsored TPP, the IPEF could actually have labor, social, and environmental standards, and could reverse the corporate use of trade deals to undermine regulation.
Biden has embraced the idea of a “worker-centered trade policy.” The right brand of trade deal for the Indo-Pacific region could inject those principles internationally. Katherine Tai supports that version. But the administration is divided on goals for IPEF, with the State Department and the NSC giving priority to containment of China and the Commerce Department more inclined to promote industry agendas.
ADRIAN WYLD/AP PHOTO
U.S. trade representative Katherine Tai, a resolute supporter of a heterodox approach to trade, has tangled with traditionalists trying to resuscitate the status quo.
Trading Blocs as Democratic Collaboration
The next trade regime is more likely to be a series of regional arrangements by nations with kindred policies rather than the universal system long sought by dystopian free-traders. Trading blocs were a widespread aspect of the global system that postwar multilateralism was supposed to end. Under Roosevelt, legislation gave the president the right to negotiate reciprocal tariff reductions, subject to ratification by Congress. This process became generalized with the creation of the GATT, and its successive rounds of multilateral negotiations, which reduced average tariffs on industrial goods from 22 percent in 1947 to less than 5 percent by 1994.
But preferential trading blocs never quite went away. When Britain’s colonies gained their independence, most remained part of the British Commonwealth, and enjoyed trade preferences. Likewise the former colonies of France. Many of these preferences have been continued by the European Union. The use of bilateral and multilateral special trade deals, like NAFTA and CAFTA-DR and dozens of similar deals sponsored by the EU, continued this process. China increasingly has its own special deals, often trading preferential access to scarce raw materials for investment in local infrastructure.
With Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, and a broad array of economic sanctions, there is talk of creating a concert of democracies that respect the rule of law, basic human rights, and trade norms. Secretary Yellen has described this as “friendshoring,” as an antidote to offshoring. The core would be the U.S., the EU, and Japan, who would be free to impose trade restrictions against China and Russia. Their relatively minor trade conflicts with each other would be negotiated directly, as was the case in the GATT era, when its findings were merely advisory rather than binding. Last October, Biden announced a deal with the EU to give trade preference to steel imports made with clean, less-polluting technology.
Trading blocs, regional trade agreements, and kindred ad hoc arrangements are a violation of earlier ideals that were never fully carried out. But they have their benefits. Harvard’s Dani Rodrik was one of the first mainstream economists to break with the orthodoxy. In his pioneering 2011 book, The Globalization Paradox, Rodrik wrote, “[D]emocracy and national determination should trump hyper-globalization. Democracies have the right to protect their social arrangements, and when this right clashes with the requirements of the global economy, it is the latter that should give way.”
These kinds of regimes can include labor, human rights, public-health, and anti-monopoly provisions that have been conspicuously absent from the WTO because of its corporate parentage. They can even provide a kind of race to the top.
The EU, for instance, is worse than the U.S. in its enforcement of budgetary austerity, a requirement that was included in the EU’s founding documents as a demand by the Germans in exchange for giving up the cherished deutsche mark in favor of the untested euro. But Europe is much better on issues like anti-monopoly policy, privacy, and restraint of excesses by giant platform companies. Collaboration with the EU on these fronts can produce global gains that are legislatively blocked by corporate influence in the U.S. Conversely, the U.S. example has helped push the EU to loosen the screws on fiscal and monetary austerity. The pressures of the Russian invasion of Ukraine are also pushing the U.S. and Europe to collaborate on a more rapid transition to renewable energy.
Another example: When Trump scrapped NAFTA as a way of punishing Mexico, a surprising coalition of Trump (actually Lighthizer), progressive Democrats in Congress (led by Tai, who was top trade counsel for the Democratic-majority House Ways and Means Committee), and trade unions negotiated a successor deal known as the U.S.-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA). Trump may not have quite appreciated what was in USMCA, but one key provision guaranteed the rights of workers in all three countries to freely organize, with real enforcement measures, very much in the spirit of the proposed 1948 ITO. The revised treaty gives outside monitors the power to order and monitor union representation elections and award back-pay settlements. Thanks to USMCA, independent trade unions have begun to win fair elections displacing corrupt incumbent company unions.
A second key provision of USMCA almost entirely scrapped NAFTA’s chapter on investor-state dispute settlement, most dear to multinational corporations, allowing them to sue in special courts to challenge regulations as violations of their trading rights. This doctrine has been disavowed by Biden for all future trade deals.
In this sense, what is conventionally termed trade policy is often actually about governance of capitalism. Whether it produces a race to the top or to the bottom depends on the balance of political forces. But the practical collapse of the hyper-globalist regime under the weight of events has produced a new opening to constrain capital. We may not be able to negotiate a new ITO, but with the right vision and politics, we can get important elements of it piecemeal.
CENG SHOU YI/AP PHOTO
Most trade between the U.S. and China will continue, but the goal should be to bring more symmetry to the economic relationship.
China: Decoupling or Constructive Engagement 2.0?
When the Clinton administration welcomed China into the WTO, the buzzword was “constructive engagement.” That strategy clearly failed. Now, the U.S. is willing to act unilaterally to defend its economic interests. But there is still a vast volume of trade between the U.S. and China, totaling $506 billion in U.S. imports in 2021 and just $151 billion in exports. Though many have called for a “decoupling” between the U.S. and China, most of that trade will continue. Nor is there any feasible way of forcing China to alter its domestic model or preventing its rise as a global economic power.
The goal should be to bring more symmetry to the U.S.-China economic relationship, and to attempt some kind of modus vivendi with China globally. Rodrik suggests that the U.S. pursue areas where it can narrow its differences with China, but without being played for a sucker.
In an important recent paper with Stephen Walt, “How to Construct a New Global Order,” Rodrik warns of a military or geopolitical bipolarity between the U.S. and China, but urges “a more benign version of bipolarity, where the United States and China compete on a number of fronts, continue to trade with and invest in each other’s economies, [and] do not challenge the legitimacy of each other’s domestic systems.” The practical question is whether the U.S. and China could find enough areas of common interest to allow for some de-escalation.
“We need a thinner globalization, more in the spirit of the GATT,” Rodrik told me. “But in some areas we need more globalization, such as human rights, climate, and labor.”
Since 1990, U.S.-based multinationals have become more globally footloose. That makes the project of industrial policy that much harder.
The strategic and diplomatic challenge is to find those areas of common interest while still resolutely defending the U.S. economy against what is clearly Chinese predation. We are not likely to alter China’s model or goals, but we can change our own. If we make it sufficiently costly for China to treat Uyghurs as slave labor, we might even alter China’s behavior, at least marginally. At the same time, there is a naïveté on the part of China doves such as John Kerry, who argue that other U.S. policies or goals should be subordinated or sacrificed to collaboration with China on climate, which is likely to be illusory.
The economic success of China as a nation that violated all the norms and rules of free trade is an acute embarrassment to the old guard. One of the leading free-traders, Fred Bergsten, admits in his new book, The United States vs. China, “China appears to believe that it is getting the best of both worlds from the present international economic order. It gains hugely from the order’s openness while cheating on the rules.” Like Rodrik, Bergsten calls for a mix of competition and collaboration.
There is an odd convergence between the trade traditionalists and radicals who either admire China’s system or see it as a valuable counterweight against an imperialist America. On the left, some have cited China’s Belt and Road Initiative as a blessing for the Third World, and even suggested that the U.S. seek to join it. The BRI is an effort to create a substantial Chinese global sphere of influence in which infrastructure investments are traded for preferential access to raw materials and other forms of subservience to China. And this challenges legitimate U.S. interests.
At the same time, U.S.-China competition for influence could be good for the Global South. The West will have to offer Third World nations a lot more than has been on offer in the past, if China is not to win this competition by default.
CENG SHOU YI/AP PHOTO
Most trade between the U.S. and China will continue, but the goal should be to bring more symmetry to the economic relationship.
Who Is Us?
In 1990, Robert Reich, one of the co-founders of this magazine, wrote an influential article in the Harvard Business Review titled “Who Is Us?” Reich’s point was that corporate identity should not be confused with national identity. Which corporation was more “American,” he asked: one domiciled in the U.S. that produced offshore, or a foreign-owned corporation with branch plants in the U.S.?
Reich was asking the right question, but at the time he was more of a neoliberal and his remedy was off. Reich argued that if the U.S. invested sufficiently in worker skills, corporations would beat a path to America’s door and the competitiveness problem would take care of itself. But the issue of corporate identity and loyalty is more complicated.
Since 1990, U.S.-based multinationals have become even more globally footloose. And even though the Supreme Court has defined corporations as citizens, they are far from loyal citizens. That makes the project of industrial policy that much harder.
Other nations can have industrial policies based on “national champions” because Mitsubishi, Mercedes, or Huawei know without being told where their national loyalty lies. That’s far less the case with U.S.-based or -owned corporations, from Apple to Intel, which take advantage of hyper-globalization to produce offshore.
In emerging industries such as solar, as China has underpriced U.S. domestic producers, the reaction of many has been to move production to China. More insidiously, when China moves some production to the U.S., it is in service not of minimizing labor costs or finding more skilled workers but to gain domestic clients as part of the China lobby. This kind of strategic trade is the opposite of what the U.S. has been promoting.
So if the U.S. is to have an industrial policy, we need to be crystal clear about the goals. The object is not just to promote domestic production if it helps predatory foreign firms. Chinese-owned firms that do final fabrication in the U.S. should not automatically get made-in-America preferences. And we can’t just assume that U.S.-based firms are loyal U.S. citizens.
Reshoring production means either subsidizing or creating U.S.-owned firms that have a commitment to U.S. output and U.S. workers. In the postwar era of collective bargaining, that reciprocal loyalty was taken for granted. Now it has to be rebuilt.
At a time of global pandemic and global climate catastrophe, we also need to ask “who is us” in a broader way. Us has to be all of humanity. The economist Branko Milanovic points out that if you look at the question of inequality nation by nation, most nations became more unequal over the past half-century. But if you look at the world as a whole, the global economy has become more equal, largely because China’s development policies have lifted hundreds of millions of people out of dire poverty.
It ought to be possible for this achievement to not be a zero-sum game, at the expense of broad prosperity in the West. In my lifetime, the gains to working people have been achieved within national polities, where national social compacts could be negotiated and enforced. Hyper-globalization deliberately undermined that project. But we may be on the verge of a different form of globalization that could produce gains for social justice, conceived globally as well as nationally, and not just for rampant capitalism.