Review: 23 Things They Don't Tell You About Capitalism, by Ha-Joon Chang

In this book, Ha-Joon Chang makes a clear case, in easy language, for many of the things (23 of them) that are wrong with the official parables of market economies. There's something to be said about clarity of language, which I think reflects the clarity of his arguments, and Chang gets some partial credit for introducing a few jokes and quips, which are not badly timed, and maybe elevate all the way up to "wry," making him a deadly wit among the legions of employed economists. The arguments as presented are probably worth your while even if you're already a heterodox sort—sometimes it's a good thing to gesture pointedly at the obvious—although I would have personally preferred to read something like this ten years ago, when it could have been a starting challenge to the received wisdom rather than just echo of my own conclusions. I'm serious about that: a lot of this stuff I've either dully outlined in blog posts (for example, of course there's no such thing as a free market, and clearly the powerful always pick their winners) or else painfully tried to use for rhetorical flair (e.g., how can you decry central planning and love Wal Mart?). This is where I tend to fail you as a reviewer, because I'm more attracted to write about the things for which I have a less complete mental picture and my areas of disagreement than I am to tout the stuff that validates my own views. So go ahead and read the book for a supply of handily succinct retorts for the next time some troll lobs some free-market mumbo-jumbo at you. It's easy, and not very long. And I'll do my incomplete best to discuss it here.

Chang does what few free-market sorts of economists like to do, which is to pull out a bunch of data—and for that matter, data of a more basic and important kind, and not the stretched inferential reaches toward the trivial that certain pop contrarians (Christ, I reviewed that one way too charitably) prefer—and use it to point out the flamingly obvious counterexamples to free-market thinking, most of it from the past thirty or forty years, and demonstrate the points he's arguing. While judicious data-comparing is an interesting exercise and all, if you're making an economic argument, it's good of him to try and evaluate what actually matters. I mean, have you ever wondered why libertarians like to present everything as a counterintuitive thought experiment?

He makes these comparisons with as valid a scope as he can. He compares growth during respective nation's own development phases, which may be separated by a century or two, and not perfect, but better than comparing the U.S. in 2010 to Burkina Faso of the same year. When looking at major effects of free market policies, he compares the results before and after implementation (which is what confines his history to the last four decades), and between countries that did or did not implement them. From this evolves some general principles and observations: all large economies are (imperfectly) planned; manufacturing is still far more important than finance, and successful economies became that way by protecting and fostering industry; free-market economic policies have resulted in lower growth, higher instability, and greater inequality in the countries where they've been willingly adopted or forced; that separating managers and owners from negative economic impacts has been a disaster.

This isn't to say that Chang has got it all covered. Some things are only a matter of understated emphasis, a failure to really push things right through the wall. For example, like most people, Chang writes a distinction between state and capital. He takes care to reduce the clarity of distinction, saying that governments do guide industries, that capital really has a national character (although labor, not so much), and corporate planning isn't a special category from government planning, but look, if you're going to take a historical view of this, especially if you're going to cite examples of what made countries like the U.S., Britain, or the Soviet Union developed in the first place (which African, Asian, and South American nations have conspicuously lacked in their own twentieth century growth steps), then it's relevant that these economies owe a lot of their growth to conquest and exploitation too. They have become comparatively rich because a great deal of their governmental planning activities went to support the horrible crony industries of the day, such as enslavement, theft of gold, abuse of immigrants, and colonialism. It was a little more than tariffs, subsidies, and putting the screws on immigration. Did the Soviet Union pick badly, and in the sense of its constituents, immorally, to develop its military and space program at the expense of other industries? Yeah, probably. And how do we do with choosing our core companies above all else? It ain't just our financial sector that's pushing people around and diverting from more wholesome ends. I don't think any of the above is inconsistent with anything Chang writes, and he goes further than most to fuzz up the boundaries between economic and other human activity or motivations, but having raised these points, he could have taken them further.

My second criticism is that Chang ignores arguments of scale, and some basic challenges to measuring things by growth. [Why, it's another of my hobby horses he's somehow refusing to recognize! The nerve!] Using growth as an important variable of success tempts fallacies of large and small numbers, and can ignore some important external factors. If, say, Congo grew more rapidly in the 60s, or western Europe in the early 50s, then you might want to consider the starting points. (On the other hand, industrially awakened America and Asia are probably excellent comparison points.) Likewise, we can make the same point for contemporary America's condition, which sane people might expect to saturate and decline at some point thanks to fundamental issues with imperial and resource-intense growth models, or even just running out of markets to expand to, even without considering the drain of the financial bubbles. I mean, I agree with Chang about the negative effects of the financialization of the west and the IMFification of the third world, and again, his counterexamples are well-chosen, a few modern ones that didn't rely as much on a massive army to make it work (Chang is Korean, and in a good position to question what the fuck the bank nations are always talking about), but growth models also have inherent problems of their own.

The only other thing I wish that Chang had done was to introduce the chapters differently. I'm fine with the division and structure of the book, but each "what they tell you" section is a way to invite argument. I think that most of them are fair and accurate characterizations of free market views, and presented in good faith, but they're still kind of straw men. I don't think it would have been at all difficult to precede these paragraphs with a quote to pin the views on an actual right-wing or neoliberal luminary. Two hours picking through transcripts of Larry Kudlow, Alan Greenspan, Larry Summers, etc. could have given him more than enough material.

And if they didn't fit into a general review, here are a few points that captured my interest enough to write down:

He makes a point that the nature of the work we do affects the character of society. Farmers see things differently than do industrial workers than do researchers than do cube monkeys. He's making a point that it was more natural for people on the floor or living in the company towns to want to organize into unions, but there's a lot that could be made of this. And obviously, it feeds back on itself—we have the national priorities that validate "knowledge-workers" because we are those, but we are those because there are too few industrial jobs. Maybe here's an area where education does make an impact, defining more how we see ourselves.

I was surprised to see him ascribe only about 1/5 of American de-industrialization to outsourcing and trade balance. (A large fraction is also re-classification, he argues. As support roles are spun off from the industrial sector in the name of cutting staff—think your shop cafeteria, company nurse, or the cleaning crew—they become re-classified as service employees.) One thing is that we still manufacture a lot of stuff, but we're consuming more that costs less.

De-industrialization, he points out, leads to a decline in engineering and science (and the need for the same), and you have to wonder about all this math and science push in that fading light. Confirms a point I was making recently.

Chang observes that one measure of inequality is the cost of services. When there's a ready supply of cheap human labor, then your house cleaning and restaurant meals (and food in general) are a lot more affordable. Don't get angry that your meal in France is so expensive, maybe thing of why that we have chosen to keep it so cheap here. In comparing currencies, this doesn't factor in, because people are not internationally traded goods (any more).

I had no idea that microfinance had been such a fucking disaster. It was one of those things that seemed like a great idea, and I was as impressed with the success stories as much as anyone. Turns out that the low rates of loans had hidden subsidies, and quickly turned usurious when the west stopped paying attention. More than that, argues Chang, without any real industry going on, these local enterprises quickly saturate, and can't possibly grow into high-level industries, especially when foreign interests are running those interests.

He cites college as a sorting function, not as an absolute forward-pushing economic force (as evidenced by lots of educated but poor countries), or as real training for most fields. As such, it's basically an economic drain, because you have to go there to even have a chance. It doesn't make it a non-worthwhile experience, but the economics of it are increasingly crazy. Yeah, I guess it's another validation of recent points for me. Maybe I like that at least a little.

In regards to equality opportunity vs. equality of outcome, he finds a way to argue they're the same. Especially if you can cross generations. After all, if your parents had experienced massively different economic outcomes, then your opportunity is very much not the same. More generally, he points out (using data) that a welfare state tends to strengthen social mobility.

Calling out the separation of capital and management from other stakeholders (namely, employees and the masses of human beings occupying the commons), he found a clever way to unite the disasters of soviet Communism and limited liability Capitalism. The problem? In neither case did the workers or citizens reap much reward for their efforts, and the oligarchs have not been on the hook when the shit went down.

Anti-Authoritarian

By the way, it would only be fair of me to note that the Christ of the gospels was a stand-up guy when it came to women. His brand of iconoclasm spread to physical contact with unclean (bleeding) women, to embarrassing his core disciples with the superior faith of females, to forgiveness for adulteresses, and when he explicitly invited a non-Jew to come and join the salvation party, it was a woman. Even if the executive committee is seen in the canon as a small fraternal clique, Jesus' language works out to include females in the broader realm of disciples (unless Wikipedia is lying to me). Jesus Christ, if we can compile a good novel character for him, had a habit of seeing women as real people, which thwarted the social conventions of the day, and is worth bringing up even in a modern context. One of the things I do like about Christianity is that its lead figure had such a wicked anti-authoritarian streak. He made smoke come out of the appropriate ears. That these revered parables and anecdotes evolved to somehow underlie all manner of brand new patriarchies in the next couple thousand years is probably not surprising, but this guy who's spewing the evils of long pants, wine, and general uppitiness is nonethelss doing it with unintended irony, and it's things like self-seriousness and humorlessness that can really garner up my enmity.

Okay, I realize that a lot of the justifications of official church misogyny come from some select quotations in Paul's letters. But really, Paul's kind of an irritating zealot anyway (although if I understand it correctly, Paul's "genuine" epistles predate most of the gospels). I am not clear just how few generations of telephone* it took to turn the subversive messages from the original sermons into the decades-later transcription of them and then to their adoption as the brand new unimpeachable authority. I wonder if it contributes a serious enough advancement of the understanding of humanity to count as a scientific revolution. The impact of Jesus' message shares some similarities of form.

You can cherry-pick messages from the holy books, and people have long sought to use them to validate their own purposes. I am being undoubtedly unfair to generalize Christians by that particular priest who is wielding God's love for a crusade that I see as less than holy (which is redundant). And while I agree that loud professions of belief can be something to watch out for, a handy bit of projection, or maybe justification for any number of more objective failings, on the other hand, I don't want to deny that the church draws in good people, and inspires them to do good things. It can be the bedrock to good families and communities.

Now in my opinion--and I know it's not really nice to keep saying this--holy writ is a terrible basis for society, morality and natural study, thanks to it's inadequate scope, committee-written passages, innumerable authors, varying contexts, presumed infallibility, and unverifiable mysticism, but twentieth century history suggests that you can pull this trick with any godless creed just as easily. You put the right amount of material in there, and you can take anything you want out, particularly the stuff you already wanted to have, and that's pretty much the point. Add a "holy" element and now nobody can disagree. There's enough variation in tone and message in the books to reinforce whatever bias or cherished cultural marker you want to take in, and those can be positive as easily as they can be negative. I might be able form up to a mighty nice message based on the parts I like, but I've mostly given up on trying to balance the other stuff in order to get to the more noble take-homes. I'm just not a very good follower.

And as a rule, I don't like the idea of guardians to power and knowledge, which is to say priests of any vernacular stripe. There's a point to ceding power to educators and administrators, for example, but really that's only justifiable only so far as you share an aim to accomplishing something (learning, effective organization). I have lived my life without ever annoying the authorities much, and you wouldn't peg me for a subversive: I'm lucky enough to look like everyone else, possess socially unobjectionable habits, generally fit in on the local level, and of course I'm cracker-white. But I don't, in fact, believe in the goodness of our social order, and think with some conviction that it's irrevocably fucked up in a number of critical ways. My growing opinion is that I need to fit in to it less. But mostly, on a basic level, I just resent the insinuation that I should look up to power for power's sake. When someone begins to justify himself with unassailable moral arguments that only he is entitled to use, then that's the motherfucker you need to watch out for. Jesus had that one right.

K

*Safe to say they called it something else back then. I believe there was an appropriate scene in The Life of Brian...

[edited somewhat for clarity]

My Wife, The Heretic

Apologies for the even-lighter-than-usual posting this month. It comes down to a competition with the ongoing job search, as well as other, less soul-killing, distractions which have all combined to siphon my already spotty inspiration to other outlets. I often think that if I wanted to attract more readers, I should fall back on recurring material, like the nooze, or amusing attempts to anthropomorphize my coworkers or something, or Daddy blogging, but those things don't really scratch the right itches, or at least they don't well enough to justify the extra effort, and worse, in a lot of those cases I'd feel like such a bastard for talking about people behind their backs. Hey, speaking of which...

Truth is, I'm breaking a couple of my rules with this anecdote. First, I'm putting an excerpt of personal conversation into the public space, which I try not to do, but to be fair, it's one of those things that I have every intention of developing into one of those entertaining stories to tell at parties and stuff, and I further aim to embellish the hell out of its original version. The other contraindicated item is talking about my marriage, but you know what? I'm proud of the old girl for this one, and I never find myself saying enough good things about her, so here's one.

Here's a vocabulary exercise, which most of you probably don't need. The word "pariah" is an artifact of the Indian caste system. That it got adopted into English suggests that there was a need for it, which is surprising to me, and frustrating with respect to this post. It's not like the west has any shortage of persecutorial social structures, and hell, maybe it says something that the Indians at least admitted it all to themselves. You'd particularly think that some Roman Catholic equivalent should be floating around out there (although a catholic pariah would be an oxymoron), but I had a hard time finding the pejorative for those people who manage to define themselves without a Church at all, it's as if it's something completely outside their worldview. Best I managed was "non-Catholic," which didn't really carry the same punch. Words like "outcast" or "excommunicant" assume prior membership, whereas pagans and witches are people who have competing beliefs, and that's wholly inappropriate here. Even a heathen would need to be someone who's content out on the primitive English scrublands. Who's the official non-participant of the Catholic church? Do the popelings even have a word for someone who just doesn't give a fuck? Let me know if you know the right designation. "Heretic" was the best I came up with, and it's at least a word I do like.

Well, in any case, my wife is one of those. I have recently learned that she has attained some kind of official antithetical status according to the self-nominated assembly of God. I couldn't be more proud.

D makes friends about as easily as I do, but as life has turned out, she was able to bond with another adult student when she went back to re-edjumication camp a few years ago. There, she found an organic chemist making a similar change in her life, a kindred soul to help gleefully blow the curve for the rest of the preplexed little go-getters. Would they have been credentialed enough to work in a medical lab with just the chemistry or the chemical engineering degree and mere years of experience? Well sure, but there's a big step of focusing yourself after a substantial time off, and classes helped them both get into their new groove. Things have worked out so that they're employed at the same place, and they're best buds of the sort I've sorely missed myself for the last 15 years or so. And good for them. It's not like everyone should be this miserable.

We've hung out a few times together family-style, and it hasn't quite gone smoothly. My previous opinion of P's husband was merely as a boringly quiet guy that it's impossible (especially for another quiet guy) to have a conversation with, but I've learned recently that there are deep convictions underlying his essential gormlessness. He is also something of True Believer, of a deeply conservative Catholic stripe, grimacing to digest a wealth of conservative views of women's roles, and, no doubt, every other sort of dyspeptic social convention that used to not fail to put a healthy fear of god into folks back in better centuries. The ironic part is that P, like my wife, has a pretty short delay between brain and mouth, and how she gets by with all this is something of a mystery to me. I think she saves up for the confessions.

Guiding this constant challenge of will is the P family priest, and kindly members of the flock as they are, they have the shepherd over for dinner once every so many weeks. Several months ago, my dear wife was in their area and without calling first, she showed up at her friend's door, during one of those formal and (I assume) joyless little affairs. My godless sweetie is unused to seeing holy men in full evangelical attire, but managed to not comment on the robes. In fact, she tells me, she showed uncharacteristic restraint even as she got whisked away, perhaps as impressed with the inherent dignity of a man who shows up dressed in his office. But she managed to make an impression just the same.

It's come back around. The priest, rather severely, does not approve this devious Sodomite that I married. It is enough for him that my wife always wears pants. And that she drinks wine, enticing P to do the same once a month. Most threatening of all, my darling doesn't give a thought whatsoever about "knowing her place" in the jealous hierarchy of souls. (If this guy knew what we did before we were decently married...) P suffers stern opprobrium from the priest that her "friends" (of which there is only one) are, literally, parading her straight down into the Pit of Fire. And from this end, I think it's a mark of achievement that my someone who consented to marry me is cool enough to have some creepy repressed narrowbrain in a dress actively preaching against her, evidently because she is an independent, confident, and relatively well-adjusted woman, without the fear of Hell in her. How many people get to claim that level of distinction?

I'm on record having a soft spot for Christians. Having known some exceptional ones in my time, I can find myself inclined to think well of them in general, or at least of certain sorts. I think that for all its failings, the good people that the faith manages to attract can sometimes make the whole enterprise look classy, which is probably true of any faith. But on the other hand, people like this priest are still out there, demanding subservience of half the population and then telling themselves that they make the world better though boundless love. Jesus Christ!

Greetings, My Employers!

Nothing to see here...