Johan Fourie's blog

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Ramaphosa’s number one challenge: getting rid of patronage politics

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Ramaphosa Investment

President Ramaphosa is on an investment offensive. Because the South African economy is stalling, he is desperate to attract investors who will create jobs and boost incomes. One way to do that, he believes, is by hosting summits; a Jobs Summit in early October and an Investment Summit a few weeks later would just be the thing to invigorate investor appetite for South Africa.

It was a hard sell. Not only is global economic growth on the wane, but South African internal policies and politics are not creating the stable, low-risk environment that investors crave when the returns are unlikely to be double digits. Whatever the merits of land redistribution, calls for what seems to be an unnecessary constitutional change to allow expropriation create uncertainty. An inability to reduce crime, the one issue that affects all South Africans, makes our country less attractive as an investment destination; The Economist’s recent article on Cape Town’s high murder rate, for example, will undoubtedly hurt tourism. And though Tito Mboweni’s appointment seems to have satisfied markets, it is never a good sign to have a revolving door for the second most important office in government.

All of these ills are rooted in our public sector incompetence – the result of a bureaucracy built on patronage rather than the efficient provision of public services – that makes doing business an expensive and frustrating exercise.

This is the one thing Ramaphosa’s government must begin to address if we are to create the right conditions for growth. As Guo Xu of the Haas School of Business at the University of California, Berkeley notes in an upcoming American Economic Review paper: ‘State capacity is fundamental to development and growth. Bureaucrats are a key element of state capacity: they embody the human capital of the state and are responsible for the delivery of public services and the implementation of policies. Understanding how to promote and incentivize bureaucrats is central to improving organizational performance.’

For much of human history, bureaucrats were appointed through patronage. The way you moved up in society was mostly the result of who you knew rather than what you knew. Even in the United States today, more than 8000 federal positions are still allocated ‘at the pleasure of the president’ (if, of course, he is competent enough to do so). It is also not only in government that you find patronage; we often see family ties and personal connections play an important role in new board appointments.

Theoretically at least, patronage can be a good thing. Loyalty to the superior may incentivise subordinates to not shirk on their work. But patronage can also be bad for organisational performance, as favouritism may disincentivise subordinates to work at all because they have the protection of their superior.

For long, though, it was difficult to prove which of these two outcomes are most likely to occur. Xu, however, has found a novel approach to do just that. He transcribed thousands of personnel and public finance records of the British Colonial Office during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. He then measured how closely governors in the colonies are connected to the Secretary of State, the official in England who appointed them. He shows that governors connected to the Secretary – as family members, members of the same party, or even as school buddies – enjoy higher salaries through the promotion to higher paid and larger colonies. However, this is only true for the period before the Warren Fisher Reform, a policy that changed the appointment process from patronage to meritocratic.

It is not only that these appointments (before the Reform) earn higher salaries. They also perform worse. Xu finds that a colony’s public revenue performance declines in years when a governor with close ties to the Secretary of State rules. ‘This is consistent’, says Xu, ‘with the interpretation that patronage exerts a negative effect on the performance of socially connected governors. Consistent with the previous result, the fiscal performance gap disappears after the removal of patronage.’ The lesson? Patronage is bad for performance.

A new NBER study sheds some light about why this might be. The three economists use very detailed information, including firm-level balance sheet data, social security data, patent data and detailed data on local elections in Italy (between 1993 and 2014), to show that firms that are more connected to politicians are likely to be less productive. They identify a leadership paradox: ‘When compared to their competitors, market leaders are much more likely to be politically connected, but much less likely to innovate. In addition, political connections relate to a higher rate of survival, as well as growth in employment and revenue, but not in productivity’. It seems to work like this: when a firm has strong political connections, they use these connections, legally or illegally, to get preferential contracts, tariffs or other regulations that allows them to beat the competition. When a firm has few or no political connections, they are forced to innovate to be better than the competition. It is ultimately the more innovative firms that are more productive and dynamic.

Patronage, the evidence shows, is a terrible system. It has also become endemic in the South African state. Without attempts at addressing a patronage system that pervades all levels of government, no Investment Summit will push South Africa’s economic growth to where it needs to be.

*An edited version of this article originally appeared in the 8 November edition of finweek.

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Written by Johan Fourie

December 10, 2018 at 08:00

The good, bad and ugly of state failure

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parliament

Even Adam Smith, the father of economics, believed that a strong state is a necessary if not sufficient precondition for a growing economy. As Smith wrote, the state must ‘administer justice, enforce private property rights, and defend the nation against aggression’. But many stop reading Smith there, believing him to be a proponent of limited government. This is not entirely fair. As Jacob Viner already pointed out in 1927, the Wealth of Nations also include references to the state’s obligation to regulate financial markets, educate youth, to protect temporary monopolies on patents, and ‘erecting and maintaining certain public works and public institutions intended to facilitate commerce’. It is therefore just not true, concludes Viner, that Smith was a doctrinaire advocate of laissez-faire.

But what happens when the state does not fulfill its duty? What happens when – despite the intention to do all of these things – the capacity of the state to deliver these services is weak or non-existent?

To some extent, this is exactly what has happened in South Africa. Our education system is a mess. Hundreds-of-thousands of South African kids attend a school each day where the teachers are unskilled, demotivated and often absent, where the facilities are dilapidated and textbooks missing, where school principles battle a limited budget, poor information management, almost no parental support and work in unsafe conditions.

Our public health system, as one June report coined it, ‘teeters on the verge of collapse’. It is estimated that there are 37 000 vacant positions, despite the fact that medical professionals struggle to find employment.

Crime is a major issue our police force cannot seem to bring under control. Prison cells are often filled beyond capacity. We have become used to power outages the last decade, and increasingly we find our taps dry. A lack of government service delivery is one of the major reasons for protests across the country.

What to do? One option is to sit back and wait that the government fixes itself. True, the democratic process allows each of us to vote every five years for a party we hope will represent our interests better. If the incumbent party does not deliver the services we expect to see, we should choose new leadership. But it is a slow and fuzzy process. Humans are not, in contrast to what economists believed for a long time, perfectly rational beings, making decisions that optimise their own self-interest. We are emotional. We trust charismatic politicians, especially the ones that lie often. We are waiting for Godot if we rely only on the political process.

An alternative is to vote with our feet and move to greener pastures. This has happened internally in South Africa already, as thousands of migrants move from the former homelands to the metropoles of Johannesburg, Pretoria and Cape Town. Urbanisation is a phenomenon that will only speed up as the disparity between the urban opportunities and rural doldrum grows.

It’s not only local migration anymore. More and more South Africans, as The Economist alluded to last month, are emigrating. But for most of us without a second passport or a thick wallet, that option is not even on the table.

So, what are our options? One alternative is the market, flaws and all. We see this happening already. Private firms like Curro are quickly filling the void left by the failing school system to service middle and higher income clients. Those who can afford it use excellent private medical facilities offered by the likes of Medi-Clinic, a private firm which has successfully copied its model to countries as diverse as Switzerland and the United Arab Emirates. Many of South Africa’s prisons are privately run. The number of active private security officers in South Africa is nearly double the size of the South African Police Service and South African National Defense Force combined, a R45 billion industry.

The good news is that improved technologies will see more of this happen. For long, the state could be the only provider of most types of infrastructure. This is because such infrastructure (also known as public goods) have two properties that make its private provision difficult: it is non-rival and non-excludable. But better technology makes older forms of infrastructure redundant. Natural monopolies – like electricity generation – has also given way to competition from alternative sources of energy. Now we can each use solar panels on our private homes instead of having to rely on a national source of electricity generation. This allows the private sector to compete in industries that was formerly only the domain of the state.

That is great. It creates opportunities for bright-eyed entrepreneurs to service clients unsatisfied by government services. But it does not, as many fans of the free market would argue, mean that government should simply get out of the way. No, because the market – especially in industries which are prone to the formation of oligopolies and monopolies (in other words, low levels of competition) – can also fail. Here, failure would mean higher prices and poor quality in the name of efficiency. Think of prisons: they are not just places where sentenced individuals’ liberties are removed. They are places where remediation can (should!) occur – but such practices are costly, and unlikely to be encouraged in a private prison that wants to maximise profit.

A thriving economy requires a creative and competitive private sector, one where new technologies can help entrepreneurs to enter industries where the state used to play a dominant role. But government must come to the party too, ensuring, through regulation, a competitive and fair business environment to prevent market failure.

A small but highly competent government is the ideal. South Africa, at the moment, has exactly the opposite.

*An edited version of this article originally appeared in the 28 October edition of finweek.

Written by Johan Fourie

November 27, 2018 at 09:00

An ode to optimism

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Stef

When I began my postgraduate studies – in 2004 as an Honours in Economics – I had to choose a supervisor for my mini-dissertation. I wanted to work on infrastructure investments, and approached prof Stef Coetzee, then affiliated to the Stellenbosch Business School, because of his expertise in development economics and his proximity to the world of business. He agreed – and I eventually produced a mini-dissertation twice the length of what it should have been.

Prof Coetzee was a wonderful guide for a naive but enthusiastic student. He certainly had the academic expertise to dismiss most of my ideas; he had completed a Masters degree at Stellenbosch University’s Economics department in 1973, the department where I now work, and a PhD at the University of the Free State in 1980. In the above picture, taken on 2 February 2018, Coetzee (on the left) appears with three former Stellenbosch classmates, prof Eon Smit, Hannes le Roux and prof Philip Mohr, men who have all had a profound impact on the South African academic landscape.

Yet prof Coetzee were never dismissive of my attempts to think boldly about the infrastructure that was required to put South Africa on a higher growth trajectory. Perhaps that is because he had experience of leading big teams and organisations, and thinking outside the box. He was a former rector of the University of the Free State, director of the Centre for Policy Analysis at the Development Bank of Southern Africa, and would later be CEO of the Afrikaanse Handelsinstituut.

But I’d like to think that it was also his personality to be open to new ideas, and optimistic about putting them into practice. Because of social media like Facebook, we could reconnect the last few years. Even when things were going badly with the economy, he would be optimistic that things would turn around.

He expressed these views in a chapter he wrote for a book I edited on what students should know when they go to university. Written a decade ago, but still relevant today, here is a short summary:

What do the above challenges and opportunities mean for us as South Africans? Probably the most important is that it leaves the younger generation with a future full of opportunities! The opportunities may be different from in the past, but it will definitely be exciting. The general expectation is that the economic growth of developing economies will in the near future be higher than that of developing economies and will also provide bigger investment opportunities.

Secondly it is also clear that exceptional leadership will be required in order to position South Africa as one of the foremost developing economies. Insight on South Africa within the world and the African context will be necessary to develop the correct policies and strategies.

Thirdly it appears that the opportunities will stretch across a wide spectrum and be multi-dimensional and multi-disciplinary. We are going to need scientists, academics, teachers, business people, farmers, doctors, nurses, and engineers to make South Africa a competitive country, but also one that can handle some the most important problems.

Fourthly new skills will be required in a fast-changing world: better flexibility, the ability to work in multi-cultural contexts, better language skills, excellent technological skills, innovation, creativity and the ability to work in teams on different continents, to name but a few.

Fifthly the future will place bigger demands on young people to achieve breakthroughs on political, economical, social, technological and environmental level. It will simultaneously provide exciting opportunities.

Prof Coetzee passed away on Saturday. Despite attempts to do so last year, we never had the chance to meet up again in person. His last few messages to me were, as always, optimistic, despite his illness and setbacks. He was optimistic about the South African economy, about my career, about the Springboks.

Now that I have my own students to supervise, I have a deeper appreciation of the role that supervisors can play in students’ lives. This, then, is a belated thank you to prof Stef Coetzee, my first supervisor who, unbeknownst to both of us, steered my own academic journey into a more optimistic future.

Written by Johan Fourie

October 29, 2018 at 08:00

Why are there so many single mothers?

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Family

Here is a statistic to get your head around: Of the 989 318 babies born last year in South Africa, 61.7% have no information about their father included on their birth certificate. We don’t precisely know why the women who register these babies do not record the father’s information, but it is highly likely that it is because the father would not want to be involved in the raising of the child. They are, in fact, single mothers. This conjecture seems to be supported by other evidence: the HSRC estimates that 60% of South African children have an absent father, and that 40% of mothers are single parents.

Explaining why these mothers are single is not easy. One argument is historical. Throughout the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, young men would move to the mines, away from structured family life in the countryside. This migrant labour system, it is said, would explain the large number of single women. While plausible theoretically, this explanation neglects a key empirical reality: that the share of single mothers is on the increase. The migrant labour system, owing to the apartheid-era homeland system, was arguably most intense during the twentieth century. And yet this is also the period where the share of single mothers was much lower. The number of migrant workers fell after the dismantling of apartheid settlement policies and, since the 1990s, the decline of the mining industry. Yet it is exactly then that we see a significant rise in the share of single mothers.

If the migrant labour cannot explain the large numbers of single mothers, what else could? Dorrit Posel and Stephanie Rudwick, in a paper published in 2014 by the African Studies Association, show that the Zulu, in particular, have very low marriage rates, as low as 30%. Perhaps, you might argue, it is just that women prefer to be single – that an unmarried life is better than a married one. Well, the evidence does not support this theory. Using survey data, Posel and Rudwick find that this is not a preference: more than 80% of unmarried Zulu women report that they would like to get married (as do the men, incidentally). The reason they attribute to women remaining unmarried despite their wish to be married is lobola, or bride wealth: ‘Our qualitative data demonstrate that frequently the way ilobolo is practiced, and particularly the amount that is requested relative to men’s opportunities in the South African labour market, can contribute to delayed marriage and nonmarriage.’

Both the migrant labour and lobola systems are unique to southern Africa. But the share of single mothers has been rising almost everywhere. In fact, 62% of all births to non-college educated mothers in the United States in 2014 were to unmarried women, very similar to the South African figure. Something more universal seems to be behind these trends.

One possibility is that men’s poor economic conditions contribute to them delaying or eschewing marriage. This is the argument Posel and Rudwick put forward, but one that is also found for the United States, where non-college educated men’s relative incomes have declined over the last three years. A new paper, soon to be published in the Review of Economics and Statistics, tests whether it is, in fact, men’s poverty that prevents them from marrying. The two authors, Melissa Kearney and Riley Wilson, link the fracking of shale gas in the 2000s to marriage rates. The idea is that, if the hypothesis is true that men do not marry because of poor economic conditions, then a fracking boom, which would create more employment and lead to higher incomes, should result in larger numbers of men being willing and able to marry. Kearney and Wilson use a sophisticated statistical analysis to show that 1) there is no impact on higher incomes of non-college educated men on the likelihood of getting married, 2) there is a boost to fertility rates after their income improves, but this increase is similar for both married and unmarried men. They conclude: ‘We find no evidence from the fracking context to support the proposition that as the economic prospects of less educated men improve, couples are more likely to marry before having children.’ In short: it’s not poverty that prevents marriage.

So what is it then? One possibility is that it might be higher female incomes. Not only have women entered the labour market at historic levels since the 1960s, but social transfers to support children has also increased. Both sources of income would give women more agency (or bargaining power) within the household, and reduce the need to live with an income earning partner. While much evidence shows that giving women more household resources improves the outcomes for children, it may have the unintended consequences of absolving men from their child-rearing responsibilities. Thomas Sowell, a US libertarian economist, notes that in 1960, almost a hundred years after the end of slavery in the US, 22% of African Americans grew up in households with only one parent. ‘Thirty years later, after the liberal welfare state, that number had more than tripled. We can speculate as to how much of that 22% was due to slavery, but we know that that tripling was not due to the legacy of slavery. It was due to the legacy of a whole different set of policies.’

But it is also not that easy. The rise in single mothers, although it has increased in the last two decades, began before the child support grant was introduced in South Africa. Pensions may play a role, but it is unclear to what extent they alone can explain the rise in single motherhood.

Family structure is rapidly changing. More children are now growing up with one rather than two parents. Even if the causes remain fuzzy, one thing is certain: the consequences are likely to be profound.

*An edited version of this article originally appeared in the 26 September edition of finweek.

Written by Johan Fourie

October 26, 2018 at 08:00

A radical solution to land ownership

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Farmland

What if I could offer you the following three outcomes – 1) an increase in government revenue to the extent that a Basic Income Grant (BIG) can be afforded, 2) a substantial decline in wealth inequality, and 3) a sustainable solution to the land crisis – with just one policy intervention? Fantastic, you’d say, but naïve and, frankly, absurd. There is no policy that we know of that can tackle these immense societal challenges, all in one go.

Wait, I’m not done yet, I’d answer. This policy would make it much easier to build infrastructure, get rid of derelict buildings, would ramp up GDP per capita significantly, and would foster social cohesion.

Seriously? Don’t be ridiculous, you’re dreaming, you’d respond. And to do this, I’d continue, we’d need to do two things that seem almost directly opposed to one another. We need to expand markets. You might nod in agreement, something sensible for the first time. Oh, and we must abolish private property altogether.

This, in short, is the recommendation by two economists, Erik Posner and Glen Weyl, in their new book Radical Markets. Critics seem to agree that this is something worth discussing; Kenneth Rogoff calls this ‘perhaps the most ambitious attempt to rethink democracy and markets since Milton Friedman’.

Although their ideas have huge implications for democracy and immigration too, I will focus here on their first chapter, and probably the one most relevant to South Africa currently: property. They propose a Common Ownership Self-Assessed Tax (COST) on wealth. Property, they argue (like many economists before them), are inevitably monopolistic, and monopolies create inefficiencies in the market. Their COST aims to remove these allocative and investment inefficiencies by introducing a live auction for every asset in society.

So, how does it work? Let’s take Khulekani. His young family has just expanded, and so he wants to buy a new house. He would go to a website – let’s call it UmhlabaWethu.co.za – and open a sort-of Google Maps that will allow him to see every property in South Africa, valued by the owner of the property. He can then decide to buy any property, by just clicking on the property, at the price the owner has listed. The ‘right to exclude’, one of the central tenets of private ownership, is therefore waived in this new system. Every property owned by a company or individual (or government!) must be valued and listed.

So, what prevents owners from just making excessively high valuations, making Khulekani’s attempt at buying a house impossible? Tax. In this system, each owner will pay an annual tax on the self-assessed value of their property, thereby waiving the ‘right to use’, the second central tenet of private ownership. The authors explain: ‘In the popular image of private property, all benefits from use accrue to the owner. Under a COST, on the other hand, a fraction of this use value is revealed and transferred to the public through the tax; the higher the tax, the greater the fraction of use value transferred.’

In other words, all property in South Africa would be on a permanent auction, where the current user of the property determines the price (but pay for that price in tax). It’s almost like Uber, for property.

Imagine a private investor wants to build a high-speed monorail in Cape Town. To do this at present would be almost impossible, as owners of properties on the intended route would hold out for a high price, knowing that they have monopoly bargaining power. A COST would allow an investor to go online and buy up all the properties at the listed price, combine them, and start building the monorail. (Of course, they must also value that property, and pay tax. If another investor believes they can build a more profitable monorail, they might just buy-out the original investor’s right of use.)

Or imagine that the property tax is returned to citizens as a Basic Income Grant. By the authors’ rough calculations, every US citizen from a similar system could receive $20000 annually, which for most would be far less than they would be paying in tax. By their estimates, it would only be the richest 1% property owners that would be paying more than they receive – and often a lot more. This not only reduces inequality (by 4 Gini points, according to their estimates), but it also acts as a subsidy for the poorest.

In South Africa, COST tied to a BIG could do far more to alleviate poverty and address inequality than a policy like expropriation. Unproductive land would be a direct cost to all society: higher property values paying more tax mean that more can be redistributed to everyone. As the authors note, ‘a world in which everyone benefits from the prosperity of others would likely foster higher social trust, a factor essential to the smooth operation of the market economy’.

‘The sharing of wealth would be in accord with many commonsense notions of justice. Wealth is rarely created solely by the actions of the people who are paid for it under capitalism. They normally benefit from the help of friends, colleagues, neighbours, teachers, and many other people who are not fully compensated for their contributions. A COST would better proportion the distribution of wealth o the labour that created it.’

This is a radical proposal. It might have unintended consequences that we cannot currently imagine. That’s why the authors propose a piecemeal adoption of these policies. That is a sensible approach. Experimentation will be needed, perhaps even within one municipality first.

But the radical economic transformation that COST can accomplish is a lesson in how creative thinking – and perhaps a willingness to put away our ideological differences – can help find solutions to a problem that we had thought to be insurmountable.

*An edited version of this article originally appeared in the 13 September edition of finweek.

Don’t bet against the historians

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PikettyWEHC

Every three years, economic historians from across the globe gather in one place to discuss the latest research in our field. And so it was again this year that, in early August, more than 1400 of these interdisciplinary scholars convened at MIT in Boston for the latest rendition of the World Economic History Congress (WEHC). It was hot and humid outside, but inside the conference and classrooms, the discussions were no less heated.

Normally a friendly and somewhat reserved crowd, it is as if the political developments of the last three years has forced economic historians out of their slumber. That classic history cartoon – an old man sitting in his rocking chair saying ‘Those who don’t study history are doomed to repeat it. Yet those who do study history are doomed to stand by helplessly while everyone else repeats it’ – seems more apt than ever. As always, there were papers on esoteric topics such as occupational mobility in early-twentieth century Greenland, wine glasses in China during the eighteenth century, or what pollen data can tell us about market integration in Ancient Greece. But it seemed to me, now at my fourth WEHC, that this year the research questions were more aimed at the big questions of the present: How does globalisation lead to populist pushback? Why are inequalities increasing in rich countries, and what can be done about it? How do entrepreneurs use (abuse) networks to become successful? History offers clues (but no quick-fix answers) to all these questions.

Two plenary sessions exemplified this. On the last day of the conference, Jane Humphries and Claudia Goldin debated the missing role of women in economic history. While Humphries, professor of Economic History at Oxford University, discussed the importance of women to the Industrial Revolution, Goldin, a professor of Economics at Harvard, discussed the more recent transition of women into the labour market. She showed, by using extensive data from Harvard Business School graduates, how the gender wage gap can to a large extent be explained by women’s preferences for flexible work. This, she argued, what can be done to close the gap further: women prospered in teams where their skills are substitutable. Instead of operating as a single physician, for example, female doctors were much more likely to stay in the labour market and work more hours if they worked as part of a team of medical experts.

But the big event of the congress was undoubtedly Thomas Piketty’s plenary session. Piketty, who is professor of Economics at the Parish School and known for his best-seller Capital in the 21st Century, has now shifted his inequality work to the political realm. He made a compelling case that the expansion of higher education has altered the traditional alliances in politics. Using three case studies – of France, England and the US – he showed that support from the intellectual elite – those with university degrees – has increasingly shifted to the left in all three countries over the last three centuries. For example, in 1948, less than 20% of all voters with a Masters degree voted for the US democratic candidate; in 2016, it was 70%. Why? Remember that the Democratic Party in the US (or the Labour Party in the UK) is more in favour of redistribution than the Republican Party (or the Conservative Party). For that reason, they tend to get most of their support from the poor (or, at least, those that stand to benefit from redistribution). But the poor is not uneducated anymore. In 1948, slightly more than 20% of voters had a tertiary degree, while in 2016, it was more than 50%. By definition, of course, if 50% of voters have a university degree, they cannot all be in the richest 10%. This means that there has become a disconnect between the educated and the rich. That is why, according to Piketty, new political positions become possible; he identifies four groups of almost equal size that have now emerged in his native France: internationalist-egalitarian (pro-migrant, pro-poor), internationalist-inegalitarian (pro-migrant, pro-rich), nativist-inegalitarian (anti-migrant, pro-rich), and nativist-egalitarian (anti-migrant, pro-poor). The success of Emmanuel Macron was that he could appeal to multiple of these groups.

‘Politics has never been a simple poor vs rich conflict’, says Piketty. ‘One needs to look at the multi-dimensional content of political cleavages.’ We also see this play out in the South African context. The ANC is currently a broad church – from the rural poor to the urban sophisticate. But how long can they maintain this delicate balance, when issues such as globalisation, migration and automation will have decidedly negative effects on one part of their electorate while benefiting another? And these clashes may not be along the fault lines of yesteryear. Capital and labour, poor and rich, educated and uneducated are now in flux. As Piketty says, the US might be returning to the 19th century political alignment, with globalists (high-income, high-education) on one side and nativists (low-income, low-education) on the other. Or it could go the route of the Democratic Party in the US, whose pro-slavery/segregationists introduced poor white policies which also benefited poor blacks. Or we could instead see the re-emergence of a globalist-egalitarian elite like we did in the aftermath of World War II, a system that resulted in the end of colonialism and a global Golden Age of growth.

The high levels of inequality in South Africa would make the continuation of a single, unified ANC seem unlikely in the medium to long run. Rapid globalisation, automation and increasing pressure on immigration are fissures that even a great leader will be unlikely to control. If history (and economic historians) have anything to add, it is that the future is unlikely to be just a continuation of the present.

**An edited version of this article originally appeared in the 30 August edition of finweek.

Written by Johan Fourie

October 8, 2018 at 08:00