The Bad Samaritans like to present globalization as an inevitable result of relentless developments in the technologies of communication and transportation. They like to portray their critics as backward-looking ‘modern-day Luddites’[30] who ‘fight over who owns which olive tree’. Going against this historical tide only produces disasters, it is argued, as evidenced by the collapse of the world economy during the inter-war period and by the failures of state-led industrialization in the developing countries in the 1960s and the 1970s. It is argued that there is only one way to survive the historic tidal force that is globalization, and that is to put on the one-size-fits-all Golden Straitjacket which virtually all the successful economies have allegedly worn on their way to prosperity.
In this chapter, I have shown that the TINA conclusion stems from a fundamentally defective understanding of the forces driving globalization and a distortion of history to fit the theory. Free trade was often imposed on, rather than chosen by, weaker countries.Most countries that had the choice did not choose free trade for more than brief periods.Virtually all successful economies, developed and developing, got where they are through selective, strategic integration with the world economy, rather than through unconditional global integration. The performance of the developing countries was much better when they had a large amount of policy autonomy during the ‘bad old days’ of state-led industrialization than when they were totally deprived of it during the first globalization (in the era of colonial rule and unequal treaties) or when they had much less policy autonomy (as in the past quarter of a century).
There is nothing inevitable about globalization, because it is driven more by politics (that is, human will and decision) than technology, as the Bad Samaritans claim. If it were technology that determined the extent of globalization, it would be impossible to explain how the world was much less globalized in the 1970s (when we had all the modern technologies of transport and communication except the internet) than in the 1870s (when we relied on steamships and wired telegraphy). Technology only defines the outer boundaries of globalization. Exactly what shape it takes depends on what we do with national policies and what international agreements we make. If that is the case, the TINA thesis is wrong. There is an alternative, or rather there are many alternatives, to the neo-liberal globalization that is happening today. The rest of this book is going to explore those alternatives.
CHAPTER 2
The double life of Daniel Defoe
Daniel Defoe, the author of Robinson Crusoe, had a colourful life. Before writing novels, he was a businessman, importing woollen goods, hosiery, wine and tobacco. He also worked in the government in the royal lotteries and in the Glass Duty Office that collected the notorious ‘window tax’, a property tax levied according to the number of a house’s windows. He was also an influential author of political pamphlets and led a double life as a government spy. First he spied for Robert Harley, the Tory speaker of the House of Commons. Later, he complicated his life even further by spying for the Whig government of Robert Walpole, Harley’s political arch-enemy.
As if being a businessman, novelist, tax collector, political commentator and spy wasn’t providing sufficient stimulus, Defoe was also an economist. This aspect of his life is even less well known than his spying. Unlike his novels, which include Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders, Defoe’s main economic work, A Plan of the English Commerce (1728), is almost forgotten now. The popular biography of Defoe by Richard West does not mention the book at all, while the award-winning biography by Paula Backscheider mentions it largely in relation to marginal subjects, such as Defoe’s view on native Americans.[1] However, the book was a thorough and insightful account of Tudor industrial policy (under England’s Tudor monarchs) that has much to teach us today.
In the book (henceforth A Plan), Defoe describes how the Tudor monarchs, especially Henry VII and Elizabeth I, used protectionism, subsidies, distribution of monopoly rights, government-sponsored industrial espionage and other means of government intervention to develop England’s woollen manufacturing industry – Europe’s high-tech industry at the time. Until Tudor times, Britain had been a relatively backward economy, relying on exports of raw wool to finance imports. The woollen manufacturing industry was centred in the Low Countries (today Belgium and the Netherlands), especially the cities of Bruges, Ghent and Ypres in Flanders. Britain exported its raw wool and made a reasonable profit. But those foreigners who knew how to convert the wool into clothes were generating much greater profits. It is a law of competition that people who can do difficult things which others cannot will earn more profit. This is the situation that Henry VII wanted to change in the late 15th century.[2]
According to Defoe, Henry VII sent royal missions to identify locations suited to woollen manufacturing.[3] Like Edward III before him, he poached skilled workers from the Low Countries.[4] He also increased the tax on the export of raw wool, and even temporarily banned its export, in order to encourage further processing of the raw material at home. In 1489, he also banned the export of unfinished cloth, save for coarse pieces below a certain market value, in order to promote further processing at home.[5] His son, Henry VIII, continued the policy and banned the export of unfinished cloth in 1512, 1513 and 1536.
As Defoe emphasizes, Henry VII did not have any illusions as to how quickly the English producers could catch up with their sophisticated competitors in the Low Countries.[6] The King raised export duties on raw wool only when the English industry was established enough to handle the volume of wool to be processed. Henry then quickly withdrew his ban on raw wool exports when it became clear that Britain simply did not have the capacity to process all the raw wool it produced.[7] Indeed, according to A Plan, it was not until 1578, in the middle of Elizabeth I’s reign (1558–1603) – nearly 100 years after Henry VII had started his ‘import substitution industrialization’ policy in 1489 – that Britain had sufficient processing capacity to ban raw wool exports totally.[8] Once in place, however, the export ban drove the competing manufacturers in the Low Countries, who were now deprived of their raw materials, to ruin.
Without the policies put in place by Henry VII and further pursued by his successors, it would have been very difficult, if not impossible, for Britain to have transformed itself from a raw-material exporter into the European centre of the then high-tech industry. Wool manufacture became Britain’s most important export industry. It provided most of the export earnings to finance the massive import of raw materials and food that fed the Industrial Revolution.[9]A Plan shatters the foundation myth of capitalism that Britain succeeded because it figured out the true path to prosperity before other countries – free market and free trade.
Daniel Defoe’s fictional hero, Robinson Crusoe, is often used by economics teachers as the pure example of ‘rational economic man’, the hero of neo-liberal free-market economics. They claim that, even though he lives alone, Crusoe has to make ‘economic’ decisions all the time. He has to decide how much to work in order to satisfy his desire for material consumption and leisure. Being a rational man, he puts in precisely the minimum amount of work to achieve the goal. Suppose Crusoe then discovers another man living alone on a nearby island.How should they trade with each other? The free-market theory says that introducing a market (exchange) does not fundamentally alter the nature of Crusoe’s situation. Life goes on much as before, with the additional consideration that he now needs to establish the rate of exchange between his product and his neighbour’s. Being a rational man, he will continue to make the right decisions. According to free-market economics, it is precisely because we are like Crusoe that free markets work. We know exactly what we want and how best to achieve it. Consequently, leaving people to do what they desire and know to be good for themselves is the best way to run the economy. Government just gets in the way.
30
Luddites are the early-19th-century English textile workers who tried to reverse the Industrial Revolution by destroying machines. At the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, in 2003, Mr Richard McCormick, the chairman of the International Chamber of Commerce, called the anti-globalization protesters ‘modern-day Luddites who want to make the world safe for stagnation … whose hostility to business makes them the enemy of the poor’. As reported by the BBC website on 12 February, 2003.
1
Richard West (1998),
2
However, he was not the first to try it. Earlier English kings, such as Henry III and Edward I, tried to recruit Flemish weavers. In addition to recruiting Flemish weavers, Edward III centralized trade in raw wool and imposed strict control on wool exports. He banned the import of woollen cloth, thus opening up space for English producers who could not compete with the then dominant Flemish producers. He was also a very good political propagandist who understood the power of symbols. He and his courtiers wore only English cloth to set an example for his ‘Buy English’ (like Gandhi’s
3
Henry VII ‘set the Manufacture of Wool on Foot in several Parts of his Country, as particularly as
4
Henry VII ‘secretly procured a great many Foreigners, who were perfectly skill’d in the Manufacture, to come over and instruct his own People here in their Beginnings’ (
5
G. Ramsay (1982),
6
Henry VII realized ‘that the
7
Henry VII ‘did not immediately prohibit the exporting the Wool to the
9
Cloth exports (mostly woollen) accounted for around 70% of English exports in 1700 and was still over 50% of total exports until the 1770s. A. Musson (1978),