THIRTY-FIVE YEARS ago Shenzhen was a tiny
fishing village just over the river from British Hong Kong. Its inhabitants,
like most Chinese, lived in poverty. In 1978 the average income in America was
about 21 times that in China. But in 1979 China’s leader, Deng Xiaoping, chose
Shenzhen as the country’s first special economic zone, free to experiment with
market activity and trade with the outside world. Shenzhen quickly found itself
at the leading edge of Chinese economic development, using the same model as
Japan, South Korea and Hong Kong itself had done at earlier stages. In the late
1970s China was bursting with cheap, unskilled labour. It opened its doors (a
crack, in lucky places like Shenzhen) to foreign manufacturers waiting to take
advantage of these low labour costs. Even though wages were at rock bottom, both
productivity and pay in urban factories were dramatically higher than in
agriculture, so China’s fledgling industrialisation attracted a steady flow of
migrants from the countryside.
Over time local production became more
sophisticated and wages went up. Industrial cities served as escalators for
development, linking the Chinese economy with global markets and allowing
incomes to rise steadily. The fruits of this process are clearly visible. As
visitors approach the checkpoints between Hong Kong and the mainland, a modern
skyline rises on the horizon. Great glass-sheathed skyscrapers reach upwards in
central Shenzhen, which boasts some of the world’s tallest buildings. At street
level Chinese workers stroll past shopfronts displaying Western luxury brands:
Ferrari, Bulgari, Louis Vuitton.
Governments across the emerging world dream of
repeating China’s success, but the technological transformation now under way
appears to be permanently changing the economics of development. China may be
among the last economies to be able to ride industrialisation to middle-income
status. Much of the emerging world is facing a problem that Dani Rodrik, of the
Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, New Jersey, calls “premature
deindustrialisation”.
For most of recent economic history,
“industrialised” meant rich. And indeed most countries that were highly
industrialised were rich, and were rich because they were industrialised. Yet
this relationship has broken down. Arvind Subramanian, of the Peterson Institute
for International Economics and reportedly soon to become chief economic adviser
to the Indian government, notes that, at any given level of income, countries
today are less reliant on manufacturing, in terms of both output and employment,
than they were in the past, and that the level of income per person at which
reliance on manufacturing peaks has also declined steadily (see chart 4). When
South Korea reached that point in 1988, its workers’ earnings averaged just over
$10,000 (in PPP-adjusted 2011 dollars) per person. When Indonesia got there in
2002, average income was just under $6,000, and for India in 2008 it was just
over $3,000.
Premature
non-industrialisation
Early loss of industry (or, in India’s case,
what Mr Subramanian calls “premature non-industrialisation”) is a distressing
trend, given the role that exports of goods have historically played in economic
development. Productivity in export industries is generally high, otherwise they
could not compete in global markets. Over time, productivity in making traded
goods tends to rise as firms and workers in the industry become familiar with
the technologies involved. Past developmental success stories such as the Asian
tigers moved from low-margin, labour-intensive goods such as clothing and toys
to electronics assembly, then on to component manufacture and, in the textbook
cases of Japan and South Korea, to advanced manufacturing, design and
management.
Export success trickles down to the rest of
developing economies. Since producers of non-traded goods and services, such as
housebuilders and lawyers, must compete with exporters for labour, they need to
pay attractive wages. At the same time the chance of well-paid work in
manufacturing creates an incentive for workers to move to cities and invest in
education. An industrialising export sector is like a speedboat that pulls the
rest of the economy out of poverty.
Loss of industry at low income levels, by
contrast, caps the contribution that manufacturing can make to domestic living
standards. That is no small problem: there is no obvious alternative strategy
for turning poor countries into rich ones.
The change in technology’s role in development
began in the 1980s. Richard Baldwin, an economist at the Graduate Institute of
International and Development Studies in Geneva, explains that for much of
modern economic history the driving force behind globalisation was the falling
cost of transport. Powered shipping in the 19th century and containerisation in
the 20th brought down freight charges, in effect shrinking the world. Yet since
the 1980s, he says, cheap and powerful ICT has played a bigger role, allowing
firms to co-ordinate production across great distances and national borders.
Manufacturing “unbundled” as supply chains scattered across the
world.
According to Mr Baldwin, this meant a profound
change in what it is to be industrialised. The development of an industrial base
in Japan and South Korea was a long and arduous process in which each economy
needed to build capabilities along the whole of a supply chain to manufacture
finished goods. That meant few economies managed the trick, but those that did
were rewarded with a rich and diverse economy.
In the era of supply-chain trade, by contrast,
industrialisation means little more than opening labour markets to global
manufacturers. Countries that can grab pieces of global supply chains are
quickly rewarded with lots of manufacturing employment. But development that is
easy-come may also be easy-go. Unless the economies concerned quickly build up
their workers’ skills and infrastructure, wage increases will soon lead
manufacturers to up sticks for cheaper locations.
From stuff to
fluff
Another mechanism through which new technology
is changing the process of development is the dematerialisation of economic
activity. Consumption the world over is shifting from “stuff to fluff”, reckons
Mr Subramanian. People everywhere are spending a larger share of their income on
services such as health care, education and telecommunications. This shift is
reflected in trade. Messrs Subramanian and Kessler note that, measured in gross
terms, goods shipments dominate trade as much as ever. They accounted for 80% of
world exports in 2008 (the most recent figure available), down only slightly
from 83% in 1980. Measured in value-added terms, however, the importance of
goods trade tumbled, from 71% of world exports in 1980 to just 57% in 2008,
because of the increasing weight of services in the production of traded goods.
Much of the value of an iPhone, for example, derives from the original design
and engineering of the product rather than from its components and
assembly.
A recent report by the McKinsey Global
Institute put the value in 2012 of “knowledge-intensive” trade—meaning flows of
goods or services in which research and development or skilled labour contribute
a large share of value—at $12.6 trillion, or nearly half the total value of
trade in goods, services and finance. Physical assembly accounts for a declining
share of the value of finished goods. The knowledge-intensive component of trade
is also growing more quickly than trade in labour-, capital- or
resource-intensive products and services. At the same time the dramatic decline
in the cost of information and communications technologies has opened up trade
in some high-value services. Skilled programmers in India, for example, can sell
IT services around the world despite the low overall level of development of the
Indian economy.
India has masses of cheap, unskilled labour
that ought to be attractive to firms wanting to set up low-cost manufacturing
facilities. Yet operating them would require at least some skilled workers, and
the rising premium on these created by trade in ICT services makes it uneconomic
for many would-be manufacturers to hire the necessary talent. Mr Subramanian and
Raghuram Rajan, another Indian economist, have dubbed this the “Bangalore bug”,
a reference to the extraordinarily successful ICT cluster in the southern Indian
city of Bangalore. But other emerging economies are similarly
affected.
Other advances are eliminating the need for
human labour altogether. Walking through an electronics production line at
Foxconn’s Longhua campus in Shenzhen, a worker points out places where people
have already been replaced by machinery—“to reduce injuries to workers”, he
says. Elsewhere on the line he indicates a place where a robot is being tested
to take over a range of tasks from humans. Perhaps 10% of the staff at Longhua
now consists of engineers working on such automation.
Successful solutions will be rolled out to
other Foxconn facilities, says Louis Woo, a special adviser to Foxconn’s
chairman, Terry Gou. And Foxconn has even greater ambitions. In Chengdu it is
working on a “lights out”, entirely automated, facility which serves a single,
as yet unnamed, customer. In fast-developing and rapidly ageing China workers
are becoming increasingly expensive, as well as hard to find. Automation
provides a means to hold on to work that might otherwise pack up and move to
another country.
It also saves a lot of trouble. Vast areas of
Foxconn’s Longhua campus are given over to support services for the roughly
quarter of a million workers employed there: shops and restaurants, a massive
central kitchen with automated rice-cooking equipment, dormitories that house
about half the staff, schools for workers’ children and counselling services for
distressed employees. Foxconn’s dormitories are ringed with netting, a
precaution prompted by an epidemic of suicides by workers that set off a torrent
of bad press for the company and its customers. Indeed, notes Mr Woo, it is
often customers that are behind the push for greater automation of Foxconn’s
facilities.
The falling cost of automation makes the use of
robots attractive even in India, where cities are swarming with underemployed
young workers. The main reason for that is the country’s thicket of red tape. Mr
Subramanian thinks India’s best hope now may be to concentrate on churning out
more highly skilled workers, rather than count on manufacturing to mop up its
jobless millions.
The rapid growth in emerging economies over the
past 15 years was good for many very poor countries in Africa and Central
America, but most still grew more slowly than richer developing countries in
Asia and South America. Given the institutional weakness, inadequate
infrastructure and modest skills base in many of the world’s poorest places,
even rock-bottom wages there may be insufficient to attract much
manufacturing.
That is a distressing prospect. The United
Nations estimates that sub-Saharan Africa’s population will roughly triple over
the next half-century, to about 2.7 billion. A development model in which
rapidly rising incomes are limited to a highly skilled few is unlikely to be
sustainable. Many talented workers are already thinking about emigrating, yet
rich economies trapped by growing social spending and shrinking tax bases are
more likely to slam their borders shut. Over the past decade or two inequality,
despite rising within many economies, has shrunk at the global level, thanks to
rapid growth in large emerging markets. But in the absence of a new development
model, that happy state of affairs may soon be reversed.