Posts Tagged ‘Africa’
Can African countries sustain the relatively high growth rates they attained since 2000? At the start of 2017, putting aside the newsworthy political shifts and the fear of many that the developing world has entered a ‘secular stagnation’, this remains the most vexing question for those of us on the African continent.
It is not a question with an easy answer. The stellar economic performance of several African countries has created an ‘Africa rising’ narrative where further progress – and catch-up to the developed world – seems inevitable. A more pessimistic counternarrative argues that this growth, from a low base, is largely the result of favourable commodity prices and Chinese investment. Both narratives had, unfortunately, made little use of either economic theory or history.
Enter Dani Rodrik, professor of International Political Economy at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, who tackles this question in a new paper in the Journal of African Economies. He first shows that many African economies have indeed improved since 2000, but that many, including Senegal, the DRC, the Ivory Coast and Zambia, remain on levels below those immediately following colonialism (around 1960). The second fact he establishes is that the rapid growth of the last dozen years has not lead to a large structural transformation of the economy. Whereas rapid growth in south-east Asian economies during the late twentieth century resulted in the growth of manufacturing, a more productive activity than subsistence farming, high growth rates in Africa have not had any effect on the relative size of manufacturing. In fact, in many countries, the size of the manufacturing sector has actually declined since 1975.
Rodrik attributes these changes not so much to factors unique to Africa – like a poor business climate or weak institutions or bad geography – but to a global trend of deindustrialisation. Even Vietnam, a country which has recently experienced rapid growth, has not seen much growth in manufacturing. And Latin American countries, which have decidedly better institutions than three decades ago, have also not seen much growth in manufacturing. Technological change – the move to automation, for example – is one likely reason.
So despite high growth rates, African countries have not industrialised – and, in fact, may have even begun to deindustrialise. This is why Rodrik is pessimistic about Africa’s future growth prospects. He nevertheless concludes by considering potential scenarios in which Africa can indeed sustain high growth, and identifies four possibilities: 1) To revive manufacturing and industrialise, 2) To generate agricultural-led growth, 3) To generate service-led growth and 4) To generate natural resource-led growth.
Let’s start with agriculture. Although many African countries have a lot of potential to expand their agricultural sectors, productivity in the agricultural sector remains low. Many farmers are subsistence producers, with low economies of scale. Such a scenario will require a reversal in the current trend away from agriculture. A recent study by Diao, Harttgen and McMillan show clearly how the share of agriculture is falling, particularly as women older than 25 are moving to the cities and into manufacturing and services. This trend seems irreversible, even if changes to technology (like seed varieties or market access opportunities) or institutions (like private property) are made, which means that an agricultural-led high growth scenario seems highly unlikely.
A natural resource-led strategy also seems unlikely for most African countries. Yes, most countries on the continent are well-endowed with resources, but the problems of the Natural Resource Curse and Dutch Disease are well known. It may be an option for some small economies, like Botswana has shown, but one has to question to what extent it can be sustainable beyond a certain level of income.
A third option is to reverse the trend of deindustrialisation. Because a growing manufacturing base seems to be, at least if we consider past examples of industrialisation, the only way to increase labour productivity over a sustained period of time, this is the option preferred by many development agencies. Yet there are many obstacles in the way of a thriving manufacturing sector, including poor infrastructure (transport and power in particular), red tape and corruption, low levels of human capital, and political and legal risk. But as explained earlier, Rodrik believes that even if these (very difficult) barriers can be overcome, it is not clear that manufacturing will return. The Fourth Industrial Revolution may completely alter the nature of manufacturing away from absorbing unskilled labour to capital and knowledge-intensive production. As I’ve said before, it is dangerous to follow a twentieth-century blueprint when production technologies are so different.
That leaves us with one scenario: services-led growth. Services have traditionally not acted as an ‘escalator sector’ as Rodrik explains. The problem is that services typically require high-skilled labourers, one thing that is in short supply in a developing economy. Rodrik does acknowledge, though, that the past will not necessarily look like the future. “Perhaps Africa will be the breeding ground of new technologies that will revolutionise services for broad masses, and do so in a way that creates high-wage jobs for all. Perhaps; but it is too early to be confident about the likelihood of this scenario.”
I don’t see an alternative, though. Yes, some countries, like Mozambique or Tanzania, will be able to expand their agricultural sectors – but higher productivity will probably mean larger farms with fewer workers. A few small countries will be able to benefit from natural resources – from diamonds to rare minerals like tantalum (used in cellphones and laptops); oil-producing countries will struggle, though, as the cost of renewable energies keeps falling. And some coastal countries may even develop their manufacturing sectors, like Ethiopia and South Africa. But for most of Africa, services offer the only reprieve from low productivity, low-wage jobs. From semi-skilled jobs like call-centres and virtual au pairs (apparently the next big thing) to professional services like accountants and designers and programmers, digital technologies must help leapfrog the barriers of poor infrastructure, bad geography and weak institutions. If it cannot, Dani Rodrik’s pessimistic vision of Africa’s future is likely to come true.
*An edited version of this first appeared in Finweek magazine of 26 January.
One of the baffling things in explaining the Industrial Revolution is that education, that pillar most economists believe to be critical for economic growth, seems to have played a relatively minor role. Universal public education was a consequence rather than a cause of the Industrial Revolution. Eighteenth-century England did not first have a skilled population before they had an economic transformation; the uncomfortable truth is that it was the other way round.
This uncomfortable truth does not suggest that formal education was completely unimportant. It suggests, instead, that much of what caused the Industrial Revolution was the scientific knowledge obtained by an elite group of highly skilled artisans, inventors and entrepreneurs. It was not the average level of education of every Brit that mattered. Most of the breakthrough technologies of the era – the Spinning Jenny, the steam engine – came instead from upper-tail tinkerers who had hoped to make a profit from their innovations.
A wonderful new research paper by economists Mara Squicciarini and Nico Voigtländer in the Quarterly Journal of Economics confirm this. They use the subscriber list to the mid-eighteenth century French magazine Encyclopédie to show that knowledge elites mattered in explaining the first Industrial Revolution: in those French towns and cities where subscriber density to the magazine was high, cities grew much faster in the following century, even when controlling for a variety of other things, like wealth and general levels of literacy. Their explanation? Knowledge elites (engineers, scientists, inventors) raise the productivity at the local level through their piecemeal innovations, with large positive spill-overs for everyone around them.
Fast-forward to the twenty-first century. High-skilled workers are the stars of today’s knowledge economy. Their innovations and scientific discoveries spur productivity gains and economic growth. Think, for example, of the immense contributions of Sergey Brin’s Google, or Elon Musk’s Tesla, or even Jan Koum’s WhatsApp. It is for this reason that the mobility of such highly talented individuals has become such an important topic – consider that all three individuals mentioned above are immigrants to the United States. There is little doubt that the most prosperous economies of the future will be the ones to attract the most skilled talent.
Which is why understanding the push-and-pull factors of current global talent flows are so important, and the subject of an important new article in the Journal of Economic Perspectives. The four authors begin with the facts. High-skilled elites are more mobile: between 1990 and 2010, the number of migrants with a tertiary degree increased by 130%; those with only primary education increased by only 40%. More of these high-skilled migrants depart from a broader range of countries and head to a narrower range. While OECD countries constitute less than a fifth of the world’s population, they host two-thirds of high-skilled migrants. 70% of these are located in only four countries: the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia.
The United States, unsurprisingly, dominates all rankings. Since the 1980s, of all the Nobel Prizes awarded for Physics, Chemistry, Medicine and Economics, academics associated with American institutions have won over 65%, yet only 46% of this group was born in the United States.
One fascinating and underappreciated fact of global migrant flows is the role of highly educated women. Between 1990 and 2010, high-skilled women immigrants to OECD countries increased from 5.7 to 14.4 million; in fact, by 2010, the stock of highly skilled women migrants exceeded male migrants! As the authors note, ‘Africa and Asia experienced the largest growth of high-skilled female emigration, indicating the potential role of gender inequalities and labour market challenges in origin countries as push factors.’
And what about South Africa? The authors calculate the emigration rates of high-skilled individuals by country for 2010, and plot these on a graph. South Africa is a clear outlier: emigration of high-skilled individuals is the sixth highest of the countries included, and by far the highest for countries with more than 10 million people. This is worrisome. True, some of this emigration is made up by high-skilled immigrants from our African neighbours, like Zambia and Zimbabwe, who also have high emigration rates. But the fact remains: our economic outlook will remain precarious if we continue to shed high-skilled individuals at these exorbitant rates.
Is there something to do? The authors mention various push and pull factors that affect the decision to migrate, from gatekeepers that pull the best talent by giving citizenship based on a points system to repressive political systems that suppress freedom of speech and scientific discovery and push the best and brightest to emigrate. If South Africa is to prosper, high-skilled individuals should be recruited and retained – not pushed to find opportunities elsewhere. Protests at universities do not help; providing residency to graduates, as the South African government has proposed, will.
In the knowledge economy, knowledge elites are the bedrock of success. If we are to learn from history, cultivating them should be our number one priority.
*An edited version of this first appeared in Finweek magazine of 3 November.
Imagine you receive the news tomorrow that an unknown, distant family member has passed on and left you a bequest of a million dollars. What to do? Spend it immediately on luxury consumption – a round-the-world trip, perhaps – or invest it offshore and live off the returns, thereby smoothing your consumption and protecting the wealth for your own and your children’s futures? There is another option, though: immediate investment in yourself, say by enrolling at Harvard for an MBA. This way you not only boost your personal future income, but more educated parents tend to have more educated (and healthier and connected) children, thus boosting the prospects of future generations.
This third option, in a nutshell, is what three new papers in the Journal of African Economies suggest for developing countries that have jumped on the Sovereign Wealth Fund-bandwagon. Sovereign wealth funds (or SWFs) are state-owned investment funds designed to preserve the high returns from non-renewable resources, like oil, for future generations. A quarter of the world’s economies still depend on non-renewable resources, and more than half of them now have some type of SWF, including many recently established funds in Africa: consider, for example, Ghana (2011), Angola (2012), Nigeria (2012) and Senegal (2012). Others, like Kenya, Tanzania and Mozambique, are finalising SWF policies. And these funds matter: Sovereign Wealth Funds are a quarter of Algeria’s GDP, 40% of Botswana’s GDP and over 100% of Libya’s GDP.
There is good reason for the turn to this type of investment fund. SWF have many good properties, as the experience of Norway since 1990 have shown. It converts temporary resource revenue into a permanent investment income. Best to keep it offshore, too, so as to avoid domestic inflation, real exchange rate appreciation and the contraction of other traded sectors (also known as Dutch disease). And why invest locally when all profitable investment opportunities would presumably have been financed already at the world interest rate if the capital account is open? For these theoretical reasons, and because of the practical successes of SWF across the world – Norway, Chile, Saudi Arabia – many African countries followed suit.
But the authors of the three Journal of African Economies papers question this logic. They argue that many African countries do not have open capital accounts, meaning that there are still many profitable opportunities to invest within Africa. Why then send precious investment funds abroad when the highest returns can be reaped locally? To return to our earlier metaphor, why invest your long-lost family member’s bequest in stocks on the JSE, when you don’t even have a high school education yet. Invest in yourself first!
In Africa, the focus should be on infrastructure. One set of authors, Rabah Arezki and Amadou Sy, argue for three stages of financing infrastructure with the help of SWFs: First, involve development banks, who are often more informed about viable investment projects, in the first phase of large projects that are often the riskiest. Second, offload more mature projects to arms-length institutional investors like SWFs. Third, develop an African bond market to facilitate this offloading.
The maintenance of infrastructure in Africa is of particular concern, and SWFs can play a role here. Arezki and Sy calculate that at least one-third of Africa’s investment needs are in maintenance, and suggest bundling construction and maintenance services in private-public partnerships as one way to overcome this (by making sure builders have an incentive to minimise maintenance costs).
South Africa does not have a SWF, although the idea of a supertax on mining profits has been mooted before. If we did decide to go this route, as many of our neighbours seem to do, the question becomes: who gets to choose how the funds are spent? Anthony Venables and Samuel Wills, another set of authors, argue that it should be done through the usual budgetary process; in South Africa’s case, that will be through Treasury. Another author, Joe Amoako-Tuffour, argues instead for a more independent SWF that take direct positions in investments. Whatever strategy is followed, it is important to remember an additional reason for Sovereign Wealth Funds: to minimise the misuse of resource rents by politicians.
There is no better example of this than the second smallest nation in the world: the Pacific island of Nauru with a population of 10000. In their paper, Samuel Wills, Lemma Senbet and Witness Simbanegavi note how the island, made almost entirely of phosphate, was the richest country in the world in the 1960s. Two-thirds of the phosphate revenues were invested in a Trust, which peaked at $100 000 per person. In 2004, after some questionable investment decisions that included a cruise ship that never left port and a Lamborghini for the police chief (to drive on an island of 21km2), the fund had only $3000 per person left.
The lesson is that we do not live in a world of benevolent dictators. Politicians make bad decisions often, and state-owned investment fund should be structured to avoid their misuse. But going to the extreme and parking all resource returns offshore is also not the answer for many African countries. Investing in local infrastructure and its maintenance may provide far higher returns for future generations – if the possibility of misuse can be curtailed.
*An edited version of this first appeared in Finweek magazine of 8 September.
One of the most profound (and often most difficult to teach) insights in economics is the idea that trade is not a zero-sum game. Just as my salary allow me to purchase all the things I cannot (or don’t want to) produce on my own, so do our exports (of the things we are good at) allow us to buy imports (of the things we are not good at). We do not work simply to accumulate a salary; we work because it allows us to buy nice things.
In other words, we are not mercantilists. A mercantilist hopes to export as much as possible and restrict imports. A large, positive trade balance, they believe, will ‘make a nation rich’. Not so. Mercantilism is not why England experienced an Industrial Revolution, and it is not why Africa will grow rich. Having more exports than imports over the long-run simply means that a country’s citizens are not reaping the fruits of their labour. To return to the earlier metaphor: it’s like earning a salary but not being allowed to purchase anything with it.
It’s easy to sell mercantilist ideas, though. Here is Mr Wilmot in the Legislative Council of the Cape Colony in August 1891: ‘Let us be wise in time, and really patriotic, grow our food, encourage our own industries…’. Or Mr Merriman in the same debate: ‘The best form of Protection was for everybody to set to and buy as much as they could in the Colony. (Hear, hear.)’ Or Mr Van den Heever: ‘The question was to keep, through fostering Colonial industries, the money in the Colony’.
You don’t need to go too far to find similar sentiments in contemporary debates. The clothing and textile industry recently held an Imbizo to discuss ways to grow the industry. Some of the comments on news websites reporting this story summarise the sentiment I often find in my classes too: ‘Chinese imports killed the textile industry in South Africa’, ‘You forget the greedy retailers preferring the cheapest suppliers’, ‘All we need is a 90% buy local campaign’, ‘With a bit of good will and assistance in the form of import restrictions we would all benefit. Jobs, better quality and some pride in the achievement would do all of us some good!’.
Again, not true. Aside from the small detail that the industry has received support since the 1930s, long before China was a competitive force, we should rather export what we are good at, and import the cheap goods which we aren’t relatively good at. (Also, Chinese clothes are becoming increasingly expensive as Chinese wages increase. We are increasingly importing clothes from other parts of Asia, and Africa.)
But how do we do this? Two recent UNU-Wider working papers by South Africa’s foremost trade economists help to answer exactly this question. The first, by a team of economists from North-West University and Stellenbosch University, use a new firm-level dataset of South African manufacturers to understand exporting firms better. They report five key findings: 1) Export participation is rare – only 19% of South African firms export. 2) Exporters are systematically different to non-exporting firms – they are larger, more labour productive, pay higher wages, and are more capital and intermediate-input intensive than non-exports. I will lump all these things together and just say they are ‘better’. 3) Firms that export to multiple destinations and across multiple product lines are ‘better’ across all the dimensions listed above. 4) Exporters to countries outside Africa are ‘better’ across the same dimensions than exporters to countries within Africa. 5) Firms that already export are most likely to grow the total value of exports than new entrants.
The second paper, by researchers at the University of Cape Town and the University of Bari in Italy, use similar data to show that the most productive South African firms are the ones that both import and export. Importing from advanced economies especially makes local firms more productive, and more likely to export at greater scale, scope and value. The authors argue that access for domestic firms to a variety of intermediate inputs from abroad can be crucial to raising local employment and gaining access to new technologies.
The takeaway: South Africa’s exporters need imports to be competitive. We can only grow our local exporting firms by giving them access to the cheapest inputs and the best technologies, and these are often found outside South Africa. Much like our 19th-century ancestors, our zest to expand exports will only inflict harm if we adhere to the mercantilist sentiment by restricting imports.
*An edited version of this first appeared in Finweek magazine of 14 July.
South Africa’s economy is in trouble. In June, StatsSA announced that the South Africa’s gross domestic product had fallen 1.2% in the first quarter of 2016. We are on the verge of a recession, hanging on by our fingernails. Weak and weakening capacity within national government to enact the necessary economic reforms stipulated in its own policy programme (the excellent National Development Plan) is largely to blame. And it is becoming increasingly apparent that the weakening capacity is the result of appointments based more on political affiliation than competency.
Global events have contributed to the malaise. The self-inflicted Brexit wound will hurt for a long time, and may even leave a permanent scar. Austerity measures implemented in the post-Great Recession era may have reduced government debt somewhat but had the political consequences of the rise of nationalists and fascists. As an older generation of political economists would have known but many modern-day macroeconomists may have ignored in their models, economics doesn’t happen in a political vacuum. England may have been first, but right-wing groups across Europe will only be encouraged by the UK’s ‘independence’. It wasn’t only austerity, though. Demographics played its part. Again, much was said about the economics of an ageing population, but few predicted that it would have political consequences too. Old people voted for Brexit; young people, who will suffer its consequences for longer, wanted to Remain.
It is in this context that I recently wrote a short paper on the economic history of South Africa since apartheid, and the road ahead. The paper is now available as a working paper. I divide the post-apartheid in two: the first 14 years of Nelson Mandela and Thabo Mbeki, and the next eight following the Great Recession and Jacob Zuma. While there is much to commend about the first period when the country reached GDP growth rates above 5%, the sad reality is that the last 8 have been dismal. A bloating state salary burden, ideological conflict within the ANC, and state capture have pulled the South African economy – and the poor’s prospects to enjoy social mobility – down.
I then outline a tentative plan for what to do next. The utopian dreams of the NDP are now worth little more than the paper they are written on. What is needed is a list of priorities of ‘low-hanging fruit’, policies that are affordable, politically acceptable and would support those most in need. I outline five such policies, beginning with family planning, early childhood development, education (schools and universities), and affordable and widespread broadband. Much more is needed, of course, to take us back to the optimism of the mid-2000s. But even with just a start in the right direction, I argue, we can benefit from the opportunities that a rising Africa and technological innovation have to offer.
Much has been said about the economic future of sub-Saharan Africa. One camp is largely optimistic, claiming that the relatively high economic growth rates of the last decade (even during and after a global financial crisis) is evidence of ‘Africa rising’, a continent slowly emerging from three decades of slumber. Another camp is less optimistic, claiming that this growth was limited to natural resource industries benefiting from rapid Chinese growth. (To put Chinese growth in perspective: even though China grew at ‘only’ 6.9% in 2015, it added $714 billion to its GDP. In contrast, South Africa’s GDP in 2014 was $350 billion. In other words, China added more than two South Africas to the global economy in 2015 alone.)
Both camps, of course, have elements of the truth. Many African countries, some of them very poor, have seen high economic growth rates over the past few years, growth that was and remain essential in lifting many thousands of people out of poverty. But it is also true that much of this growth has been limited to resource sectors that do not have the same spill-overs into other parts of the economy that manufacturing, for example, has. This raises doubts about its sustainability.
In April, the United Nations Economic Commission for Africa published a new report that clearly sides with the more cautious view. African countries are stuck in low-productivity, primary sector exports; the fall in the price of commodities, like oil in the past 18 months, has swelled budget deficits in places like Sudan, Nigeria and Angola. It is likely to have political consequences too.
To combat such vulnerability, the authors advocate ‘smart’ industrial policies to ‘upgrade’ the commodity sectors and promote the ‘development of higher-productivity sectors, especially manufacturing but also some high-end services’. They acknowledge that there are two trends working against such industrial policy action. First, a shrinkage of the ‘policy space’ due to the establishment of the WTO and the proliferation of bilateral and regional trade agreements. Simply put, countries have less scope for raising tariffs or other creative industrial measures than before. Second, the strengthening of global value chains makes ‘nationalistic’ industrial policy less effective. But this does not deter them: ‘There are still many industrial policy measures that can be used. Moreover, if anything, these changes have made it even more necessary for developing country industrial policy-makers to be ‘smart’ about devising development strategy and designing industrial policy measures.’
So what are these so-called ‘smart’ industrial policies? Unfortunately, after spending 156 pages explaining the need for ‘smart’ policies, the authors give us only one page of very vague principles: policy-makers ‘need to identify the ‘right’ policies’; policy-makers ‘need to induce foreign firms to create linkages with the domestic economy’; and policy-makers ‘should pay attention to the possibility of upgrading not just through the development of capabilities to physically produce goods but also through the development of producer services, such as design, marketing, and branding’. So much for practical guidelines!
The authors have missed a golden opportunity to actually think more creatively about Africa’s economic future. Technology is changing Africa’s comparative advantage. Global manufacturing will become increasingly capital intensive as robotics and technologies like 3D-printing (not mentioned once in the report) advance. What we consider low-skilled labour-intensive manufacturing (shoe-making, for example) may, overnight, become high-skilled, capital-intensive (once shoes can be printed), with production switching from countries like Vietnam and Bangladesh back to the developed world. Cheap labour will become less of an advantage as robotics becomes more affordable.
An additional factor that makes manufacturing in Africa so expensive is trade costs. We have few large cities on the coasts with easily accessible port facilities. How can landlocked Zambia compete with similar-sized Cambodia? Zambia has a railroad that goes through two other countries before it reaches the eastern coast of Africa; Cambodia’s capital has a river port that can receive 8000-ton ships. And statistics confirm this: the World Bank calculates that the cost to import a 20-foot container to Cambodia is $930. It is $7060 in Zambia. It is difficult to see how any ‘smart’ industrial policy can mitigate these massive cost differences.
Does this mean Africa is doomed to remain a primary good exporter? Not necessarily. Mobile technology is revolutionising the way Africans do business. It is a technology that negates Africa’s rugged terrain, leapfrogging the need for expensive fixed-line infrastructure. If it can receive the necessary investment, broadband and wireless technologies will do the same. This will allow Africans to provide services to a world that would have been impossible to reach only a decade earlier.
Can services alone propel Africa into the industrialised world? Apart from a few small economies – Singapore and Luxembourg – there is little past evidence that it can. A pessimist may thus proclaim little hope for the continent; an optimist may instead remember that technological innovation has a way to revolutionise existing industries. It is already happening: consider the much higher returns of Ugandan farmers after mobile technology allowed them access to real-time market prices for their goods. Or how Airbnb has empowered middle-income South Africans with a spare room to benefit from the country’s thriving tourism industry. Or how renewable technologies – also completely neglected in the UN report – will affect African countries’ power generation and distribution capabilities, supplanting the need for coal and other minerals.
What is clear is that the image of factories with thousands of low-skilled labourers working 8 to 5 jobs belongs to a previous century. To imagine that industrial policy can somehow transplant that image to Africa in the twenty-first century is fictional. The smartest industrial policy we can hope for is instead a belief that Africans have the agency to shape their own destiny, as long as they have access to the hard (fast and affordable internet and reliable electricity) and soft (IT colleges and programming degrees) infrastructure that will allow them to benefit from the technologies of the future.
*An edited version of this first appeared in Finweek magazine of 2 June.
Imagine you’re a young entrepreneur and have built up a profitable IT business. You can expand either by going at it alone, or partnering with a more established, perhaps international firm. Which should you choose?
Sign up with the multinational.
That’s the advice of a new NBER Working Paper ‘Does Foreign Entry Spur Innovation?’ by three US trade economists, Yuriy Gorodnichenko, Jan Svejnar and Katherine Terrell. They find, using a large firm-level dataset of eighteen countries, that foreign direct investment (FDI) have a significantly positive impact on product and technology innovation of domestic firms in emerging markets. In other words, those domestic firms that receive FDI become more innovative over time than other domestic firms.
This isn’t surprising. Trade economists have long argued that increased trade and investment boosts domestic firms’ productivity. Foreign firms tend to bring new innovative ideas, technology and management practices that replace potentially inefficient practices of domestic firms. When SA opened up to the world after the isolation of the apartheid years, the argument goes, local firms’ productivity increased significantly because they suddenly had to compete against more competitive producers.
This was difficult to prove empirically: industry-wide statistics are often too vague to give reliable evidence that FDI has a positive impact, and some firms may close due to tougher competition. But this study uses firm-level data, measuring the size of spillover effects from the international partner to the domestic firm, and documents the impact on innovation instead of noisy productivity estimates.
The authors found that the benefits of FDI don’t accrue to other firms in the industry, but is localised to the domestic firms immediately connected to the foreign firms. They conclude: Simply being in an industry populated by foreign firms generally has a weak, if any, effect on innovation. In fact, if our entrepreneur doesn’t get a foreign partner but his competitors do, he may find himself out of business.
This study is important for policy makers too. Firstly, encouraging FDI is critical to growing an economy. Public (and political) sentiment is often against foreign competition; consider the long (and expensive) deliberations preceding the Walmart-Massmart merger. Let me be unequivocal about this: this study shows that foreign competition drives innovation in domestic firms, making them more competitive and longer-lasting. We need more, not less, of it.
The authors also found, in short, that FDI from rich countries is better. Again, this makes intuitive sense. Firms in the rich world already operate at the technological frontier. Now, for the first time, it has found empirical support. One wonders about SA’s attempts to cosy up to our BRICS partners instead of encouraging investment from our traditional (and still largest) trade partners. If we believe the results of this study FDI from China is less beneficial for SA than from the US or Germany.
Another, perhaps more controversial, finding: because the benefits of FDI only accrue to firms within the supply chain of the acquired domestic firm, it might mean that policies which require foreign firms to have significant local content (for example, a rule which states 20% of a firms’ inputs must be locally made) may be justified. Minister Rob Davies will be happy to hear this.
But he’ll first need to get foreign firms excited about SA. In late July, he introduced the Promotion and Protection of Investment Bill in parliament as an attempt to do just that. The bill aims to protect and promote investment, but, sadly, falls short. As Webber Wentzel’s Peter Leon argues, it contains few of the protections one would typically find in a bilateral investment treaty. ‘Fair and equitable’ treatment for investors, such as market value compensation in the event of expropriation, are missing.
The rapid growth of emerging markets over the last two decades seems to be tapering off. SA cannot rely on foreign firms entering the country seeking investment opportunities as had happened during the good times. We have to up our game and become more attractive. That means improving all sorts of things, like skills and infrastructure, but the low-hanging fruit of investment bills and secure property rights should be top priority.
*This column first appeared in the 1 October edition of Finweek.