A Level Economics 8: Division of Labour and Specialisation

 What are the advantages and disadvantages of specialization?

Advantages of Specialization:

1. Increased Productivity: Specialization allows individuals and nations to focus on specific tasks or industries, leading to improved skills, knowledge, and expertise. This specialization can result in increased productivity as individuals become more efficient in their specialized area. For example, an individual specializing in software development can become highly proficient and productive in coding and programming.

2. Resource Allocation: Specialization enables efficient allocation of resources. By concentrating resources in specific industries or sectors, economies can maximize their utilization. This leads to the efficient use of labor, capital, and other resources, enhancing overall productivity and output.

3. Economies of Scale: Specialization often leads to economies of scale, which occur when larger quantities of goods or services are produced, resulting in lower average costs. Specialized firms can benefit from cost efficiencies and improved production processes, making their products or services more affordable for consumers.

4. Comparative Advantage: Specialization allows individuals and nations to leverage their comparative advantage. Comparative advantage refers to the ability to produce a good or service at a lower opportunity cost compared to others. By specializing in areas where they have a comparative advantage, individuals and nations can engage in mutually beneficial trade, increasing overall welfare.

Disadvantages of Specialization:

1. Dependence and Vulnerability: Overreliance on specialized industries can create vulnerability and dependence on specific markets or sectors. Economic shocks, changes in demand, or technological disruptions can significantly impact specialized industries, leading to economic instability and job losses. For instance, an individual specializing in a declining industry may face difficulty finding alternative employment.

2. Reduced Diversity of Skills and Knowledge: Specialization often requires individuals to focus on a narrow set of skills, limiting their versatility and adaptability. This reduced diversity of skills and knowledge may pose challenges when transitioning to different roles or industries. Moreover, in the face of rapid technological advancements or market shifts, individuals with specialized skills may find it difficult to adapt to new demands.

3. Unequal Distribution of Benefits: Specialization can lead to income disparities and unequal distribution of benefits. Certain specialized occupations or industries may offer higher wages and economic advantages, while others may face lower wages and limited opportunities. This can result in social and economic inequalities within societies.

4. Overdependence on Global Trade: Specialization can increase an economy's dependence on international trade for essential goods and resources. While trade offers opportunities for growth and access to a broader range of goods, it also exposes economies to risks such as trade barriers, geopolitical tensions, or disruptions in global supply chains. Overreliance on specialized exports can make an economy vulnerable to external shocks.

In summary, specialization brings advantages such as increased productivity, efficient resource allocation, economies of scale, and the ability to leverage comparative advantage. However, it also carries disadvantages including dependence and vulnerability, reduced diversity of skills and knowledge, unequal distribution of benefits, and potential risks associated with global trade. Balancing specialization with diversification can help mitigate some of these disadvantages and promote long-term economic stability and resilience.

Economics Essay 77: Economies of Scale

 Explain how a firm may benefit from both internal and external economies of scale.

A firm can benefit from both internal and external economies of scale, leading to cost advantages and enhanced competitiveness. Internal economies of scale arise from factors within the firm's control, such as technological advancements, managerial expertise, and financial capabilities. On the other hand, external economies of scale result from industry-specific or location-specific advantages shared by multiple firms within the industry.

Internal economies of scale can be observed in various ways. For instance, a large manufacturing company that increases its production scale can invest in specialized machinery, technology, and production processes. This enables the firm to achieve higher output levels and lower costs per unit by reducing labor requirements and increasing production efficiency.

Managerial economies can also contribute to cost advantages. As a firm grows, it can afford to hire specialized managers and staff who possess expertise in specific areas. This leads to better coordination, improved decision-making, and efficient utilization of resources, all of which can lower costs. For example, a larger firm may have dedicated human resources, finance, and marketing departments, which can optimize operations and increase efficiency.

Financial economies are another benefit of internal economies of scale. Large firms typically have better access to financial resources, such as loans, equity financing, and favorable credit terms. This allows them to raise capital at lower costs and invest in projects with higher returns. Moreover, larger firms may enjoy economies of scale in purchasing, securing bulk discounts on raw materials, components, and supplies.

External economies of scale, on the other hand, result from factors outside the firm's direct control but within the industry or geographic region in which the firm operates. These economies are shared by all firms within the industry and can provide additional cost advantages.

For example, firms located in industrial clusters or specialized zones can benefit from shared infrastructure, such as transportation networks, utilities, research facilities, or specialized suppliers. This reduces costs and enhances efficiency. A cluster of software development firms located in a technology hub can benefit from a larger pool of skilled programmers and engineers. This enables them to hire experienced talent, reduce training costs, and foster knowledge sharing among professionals, leading to faster product development cycles and cost efficiency.

In addition, external economies of scale can arise from knowledge spillovers and collaboration. Firms located in close proximity to research universities and industry networks can benefit from sharing information, best practices, and research findings. This facilitates innovation, efficiency gains, and cost reductions. For instance, in the biotechnology industry, firms located near research universities and medical centers can collaborate with researchers, share discoveries, and access specialized equipment or facilities.

By benefiting from internal and external economies of scale, firms can achieve lower average costs, increased efficiency, and improved competitiveness. This allows them to offer products at competitive prices, invest in research and development, expand their market share, and potentially earn higher profits. These advantages can also create barriers to entry for new firms, strengthening the position of established firms within the industry.

Will Nissan stay once Britain leaves? How one factory explains the Brexit business dilemma

David Conn in The Guardian

Earlier this year, when the British government’s assessments of the economic impact of Brexit were finally published, they revealed that the north-east of England was at risk of the deepest damage. Although the region still bears scars from the decline of heavy industry in the 1980s, today the north-east is the only part of Britain that exports more to European countries than it imports. And, amid the region’s new and rebuilt industries, such as pharmaceuticals, the most significant engine of recovery has been Nissan, the Japanese carmaker, which is housed in a giant factory complex just off the A19 at Washington, near Sunderland.

The plant was opened with great ceremony by Margaret Thatcher in 1986. Sharon Hodgson, now Labour MP for Washington and Sunderland West, which includes the plant, remembers that as a teenager, she was amazed when it was announced that Nissan would be setting up there. “Growing up in the north-east then, we had seen everything close – the mines, the shipyards, so many people put out of work. It was the cruellest, most awful time,” she said. “As a young woman, I remember the feeling of hope and optimism when Nissan came, the shock and surprise that we were actually going to get something.”

Since then, Nissan’s operation has expanded to cover a 800-acre site, running two production lines that produce 519,000 cars per year – about 55% for export to other EU countries. According to the company’s most recent annual report, for 2016-17, Nissan’s UK operation generated £6.4bn from sales, employed 7,755 people and paid these workers, mostly living in the north-east, £427m in wages. Companies supplying parts to Nissan employ a further 30,000 people across Britain.

“Nissan hasn’t been able to bring full recovery to the area; decline and deprivation are still prevalent,” said Hodgson. “But they are a massive employer, providing good jobs, including the supply chain which is so important. You have father and son working there now, a real sense of pride, and that productivity and quality is why it has been so successful.”

Yet today, there is serious concern at Nissan that Brexit threatens to damage its operation in Sunderland. The clearest explanation of how its UK business depends on EU membership was provided in February 2017 by Nissan executive Colin Lawther, appearing before parliament’s international trade committee. Lawther, a chemist by training, began his career with Nissan in 1985, as one of the key workers responsible for setting up the laboratory operation in the Sunderland plant. He went on to become Nissan Europe’s senior vice-president for manufacturing, purchasing and supply-chain management, before retiring earlier this year.

To produce as many cars as it does, Lawther explained, Nissan Sunderland needs to receive and fit 5m parts each day. Of these parts, 85% are imported, mainly from Europe. The plant holds only enough parts for half a day’s production, because it is expensive to store them, so the whole multi-billion pound operation relies on these millions of parts arriving daily with no barriers or customs delays.

Because Britain is currently part of the EU, this is a straightforward process. Each of the 28 EU member states belongs to the single market, which has been designed to facilitate trade by removing tariffs, as well as other trade and customs barriers. Rather than having 28 different industrial safety regulations, for instance, there is a single set of regulations that applies across all member states. The single market means trade between 28 different countries is free, fast and “frictionless”, just as it would be if the EU were one very large country. “Frictionless trade has enabled the growth that has seen our Sunderland plant become the biggest factory in the history of the UK car industry, exporting more than half of its production to the EU,” Nissan said, in a statement for this article.

“We build two cars every minute,” Lawther told the committee in 2017. “So you have 5m parts coming in every day, and you have half a day’s worth of stock. Any disruption to that supply chain is a complete disaster.

“We are talking about plant efficiency, downtime efficiency – to be world-class, we have to be 97% efficient. We are talking about two, three, four, six minutes a day of downtime on the production line. More than that is a disaster. If you start talking about interruption of supply of parts for hours, that is completely off the scale.”

If Britain leaves the EU without securing an agreement for continued frictionless trade – the “hard Brexit” outcome – Britain’s trading relationships would be regulated by World Trade Organisation rules, which do not allow for agreed product standards, and therefore will require customs checks at the borders with Europe. The rules also impose tariffs, including 10% on cars, 4.5% on car parts. For Nissan’s Sunderland operation, Lawther told the committee, as well as likely new delays at the borders, the impact of tariffs will add up to around £500m per year of additional costs, which would be “pretty disastrous”.

According to the government’s assessments, published in March, a “hard Brexit” would lead to a 16% economic decline in the north-east. London, by contrast, with its much more varied economy and the financial power of the City, would suffer a drop of only 3%.

The key figure in deciding the fate of Nissan’s operation in Sunderland is Carlos Ghosn, a global business executive born in Brazil to Lebanese immigrant parents, then educated in France. Ghosn, who became known as “le cost killer” after he restored the fortunes of Renault in the 1990s with his relentless efficiency drives, is not only chairman of Nissan, but also chairman of Renault and Mitsubishi, and of the Renault-Nissan-Mitsubishi Alliance that allows the three companies to work together to save costs. Renault owns 43.4% of Nissan, which in turn has bought a 15% stake in Renault, and 34% of Mitsubishi.

Since the vote to leave the EU, which was a shock to Nissan and other carmaking companies, Ghosn has consistently emphasised two main points in his occasional public statements. First, Nissan will not make further investments when they do not know what Britain’s future trading arrangements will be. Second, if leaving the EU significantly raises costs and trade barriers, Nissan will consider reducing its British operations. Sunderland is by far Nissan’s largest European plant, but the company has other factories in Europe. The current priority for the alliance, overseen by Ghosn, is a €10bn (£8.9bn) global cost-cutting programme to be implemented by 2022. It is increasingly moving towards a standard manufacturing method that can make both Renault and Nissan models. Already the Renault factories at Flins and Le Mans in France are making the Nissan Micra, in huge numbers.

Although it has invested £4bn since 1986 to make Sunderland its European base, Ghosn has said it will be reviewed if Britain becomes uncompetitive due to Brexit. “I don’t think any company can maintain its activity if it is not competitive,” Ghosn said in June. “If competitiveness is not maintained, little by little you’re going to have a decline. It may take some time, but you’re going to have a decline.”

Nissan’s Washington car plant does not look grand; it is a no-frills operation. Beyond the security gates and high railings, which are punctuated with turnstiles where the workers enter, the vast site consists of blank, imposing production sheds and basic office blocks. The main reception is a bare, functional lobby that has the feel of a 1980s school entrance. There, on a shelf, sit two Japanese Daruma dolls, which by tradition had their first eye painted – by Prince Charles and his then wife, Diana – when construction began in 1984, and the second – by Margaret Thatcher – when the plant opened on 8 September 1986.

In her landmark speech that day, Thatcher portrayed Nissan’s arrival as a British victory over the rest of Europe. “It was confirmation from Nissan,” she said, “that within the whole of Europe, the United Kingdom was the most attractive country – politically and economically – for large-scale investment.”

 

Margaret Thatcher painting the eye of the Daruma doll at the opening of the Nissan plant in 1986. Photograph: Alamy

Thatcher did not mention that Britain’s membership of the European Community (as the EU was then known) was crucial to Nissan’s decision. Yet she was fully aware of it, as were other government ministers. In a meticulously researched history of the plant’s funding via EU and UK government public money since the 1980s – adding up to almost £800m – Kevin Farnsworth of York University and his co-authors Nicki Lisa Cole and Mickey Conn (no relation) unearthed a 1980 memo to Thatcher from her industry minister, Keith Joseph. Nissan had by then decided to build a European plant in Britain, and Joseph explained:

“The deal [is] tangible evidence of the benefits to the UK of membership of the European Community; Nissan [has] chosen the United Kingdom because it [gives] them access to the whole European market. If we were outside the community, it is very unlikely that Nissan would have given the United Kingdom serious consideration as a base for this substantial investment.”

At that time, the north-east’s traditional industries were already being closed down. In 1980, British Steel shut its plant at Consett, putting 4,500 people out of work, a still powerfully remembered devastation. Shipbuilding on the river Tyne had long been declining and was parched of investment. Ashington, Easington and other communities built around coal, including Wearmouth colliery in Sunderland, were to suffer the agonising deprivations and defeat of the 1984-85 miners’ strike, which was called to fight closures. In 1992, Michael Heseltine, then president of the board of trade, would announce that 31 of the country’s remaining 50 pits would close, cutting 30,000 jobs.

When I spoke to Heseltine for this article, I asked if he conceded that his government was too brutal in these mass closures of longstanding industries. He reflected for a moment, then replied: “Probably it was too unthinking.” He said he regrets that there was no considered policy to improve these industries – through better management, company reforms and longer-term investment. “Unlike Germany, Japan, France, now China, there was never any stable industrial strategy. It was much easier to say ‘let the market rip’,” he said.

Against that landscape of collapses, Heseltine recalled the efforts to bring Nissan and other Japanese companies to Britain: “We were looking to attract anything that would help the economy. And it was a central part of the attraction to the Japanese that we were in the European Union.” The German and French governments were more protective of their own industries, Heseltine said, and the UK saw Japanese investment as an opportunity to get into the European market. Thatcher’s newly restrictive trade-union laws, which had been bitterly opposed by unions, were also part of her government’s pitch: that workers would be less able to strike and easier to lay off than in other European countries. The Washington plant has, however, always been strongly unionised.

For the Japanese companies, Heseltine said, the UK was the “soft underbelly” of Europe, a way in. Shinichi Iida, minister for public diplomacy and media at the Japanese embassy in London, confirmed that Japanese companies were courted by Thatcher’s government, telling me that many Japanese companies “have a strong sense that they came here at the invitation of the UK at that time”. In 1989, two other major Japanese car manufacturers followed Nissan’s lead: Honda, which now makes models of the Civic for export, about a third to the EU, from its factory in Swindon, and Toyota, which describes its car plant at Burnaston, near Derby, and its engine factory in Deeside, north Wales, as “European production centres”.

The English language was a big draw to the UK for Japanese manufacturing companies, as was its tradition of research and development, and “the very strict and open legal system”, Iida said – but it was “quite essential” that the UK was “a gateway to Europe”. Sir Ian Gibson, who was recruited by Nissan from Ford in 1984 to establish and run the Washington plant, confirms that: “The whole premise of the investment was that it was a European base; there would be free access to the European market.”

Ged Parker, who was on the negotiating team for the local regeneration authority, recalled their pitch to Nissan. They had a huge site available on an old airfield, the former RAF Usworth; they had the north-east’s industrial tradition and experienced workforce; there was proximity to the A19, the A1, Newcastle airport and – most crucially – the ports on the Tyne, Tees and Wear for shipping parts and finished cars to and from Europe.

The north of England development council had hired a representative in Japan, Ken Oshima, to drum up business, and Parker remembers the enthusiasm of the visiting Nissan executives. “The delegation were engineers – they were technical people and they had a reverence for British industry.” They could also see that the area was able to complete major construction projects; Washington new town had just been built, a planned layout of new housing, industrial estates and shops, near historic Washington village, where the first US president George Washington had his family roots.

The team deployed an array of winning tactics to impress Nissan. “The proposal document was the first we ever did on a word processor,” Parker said. The authority had bought two computers just a few weeks before Nissan’s visit. “It was leading-edge technology then.”

Crucial, though, were huge grants of public money, provided by the UK because the north-east was classified as a special development area, in need of investment. According to Farnsworth, by 1984 the government had pledged £112m from the regional development and selective financial assistance schemes, to secure and prepare the site for Nissan’s investment. The airfield was classed as agricultural land, and sold at a heavy discount.

On 30 March 1984, Nissan finally signed the agreement to invest in Washington. “It was an unbelievable feeling,” said Parker. “It was a career high for me. The north-east has always felt hard done by, and it almost changed morale overnight. What Nissan has done since, expanded so much, particularly in recent years, dragged more industry up here, spread good practice, has been huge for the region.”

The first model made at the plant in 1986, when it employed 430 people, was the Nissan Bluebird. Gibson said they began with a target of 24,000 cars a year. The Primera model replaced the Bluebird in 1990, and two years later, the plant began to make a second model as well, the Micra. By 2000, the plant was producing three models – and a total of 300,000 cars each year.

Although the financial crisis hurt Nissan and 1,200 jobs were axed in January 2009, the British plant’s fortunes recovered more quickly than others. The Juke, Leaf, Infiniti and Qashqai models were all commissioned at Washington from 2010 onwards, attracting more multi-million pound investment in plant and machinery by Nissan, and a new round of expansion.

 

Nissan workers prepare doors for the Qashqai car in Sunderland. Photograph: Reuters

When Nissan needs to decide on new investments, such as where new models are to be built, individual plants mount competing internal bids to the main board. “The plants with the best claim get the investment,” Gibson explained. “And the ones with the best claim have the least friction and risk. Sunderland, for a long time, was the best claim.”

Inside the basic, shed-like structure that houses the production lines is dizzyingly intricate, hugely expensive technology geared towards the “just in time” assembly of a car, mostly Qashqais, every minute. One of the Unite officials described the job on the line as “very hard, physically demanding”, and it looks it. The workers, mostly men, are on their feet throughout an eight-hour shift, tightly focused on machine-fitting engines, doors, dashboards and windscreens to the car bodies that come along the line each minute. Overhead, another line is sending down finished wheels, to be attached at the end of the process. Another team carries out rapid tests on the cars, then transporters take them out and to the port.

The Sunderland factory does not go in much for the modern trend of decorating the workers’ areas with ambient colours or motivational slogans, but there is one small sign next to the production lines. It says: “Nissan Sunderland Plant: SECOND TO NONE.”

In the months before the EU referendum, the Labour party’s official remain campaign, led by the former home secretary Alan Johnson, approached Nissan to ask if it could stage its north-east launch event at the Washington plant. The politicians wanted to showcase an economic, industrial and employment success that had clearly been built on EU membership.

Nissan declined. Despite the impact Brexit was likely to have on their businesses, senior executives at most major companies took the view that it was unlikely voters would decide to leave, and there was little to be gained by being too forthright on a political issue. When Nissan finally did make a statement, it was an exercise in restraint. “Our preference,” it said, “is, of course, that the UK stays within Europe – it makes the most sense for jobs, trade and costs. For us a position of stability is more positive than a collection of unknowns. While we remain committed to our existing investment decisions, we will not speculate on the outcome nor what would happen in either scenario.”

 

Nissan Qashqais and Leafs being inspected at the port of Tyne before export. Photograph: Bloomberg via Getty

Unite also told its members that the union favoured remaining in the EU. “The damage Brexit can do is a massive concern, and we did campaign to remain,” says Tony Burke, Unite’s assistant general secretary with responsibility for manufacturing. One Unite official at the plant, who did not want to be named due to the sensitivity, still, of talking about Brexit, said he felt Nissan’s statement was “very neutral” and did not communicate to the workers how much was at stake. He said they did their best with Unite’s message, but it was “just one voice, one hit, in months of hysteria ramped up by the media, particularly about hostility to immigrants. That’s what people were listening to.”

Politically, Sunderland is overwhelmingly Labour: its three constituency MPs all represent the party, and in 2016, Labour won 67 of the 75 seats on Sunderland city council. The MPs and council campaigned for Britain to remain in the EU, but on the doorsteps, they found that people were planning to vote leave in large numbers.

In the referendum, 61% of Sunderland’s voters chose leave. When I visited the plant recently, I talked to several workers as they came off a shift. Most had voted leave. One young man, 24, who, like the others I spoke to, did not want to be named, said he had voted remain because he preferred stability and he “thought we’re fine as we are”, but that older workers around him had voted leave. “They said that they didn’t see a change from before and after we joined the EU, and some said they didn’t like the EU making rules for us.”

An older man, 55, pointed to one of the huge sheds behind us and said, like others, that Nissan’s multi-million pound investment in it shows the Sunderland plant is secure. He said he had voted leave to stop immigration, “EU interference”, and because the north-east gets “bugger all money” from the EU.

In fact, after Cornwall, the north-east receives England’s second-highest amount of EU structural funding proportionate to its population, according to a report compiled before the referendum for Sunderland’s public and private sector partnership, the Economic Leadership Board. The current round of EU funding, being managed by the region’s local enterprise partnership, is £437m between 2014 and 2020. Nissan itself, according to Farnsworth’s research, has received £450m in loans from the European Investment Bank, and £347m in grants and other public funding, from the UK and EU.

Another Nissan worker, 63, sitting on a barrier waiting for his lift home, said he had voted leave, like many of his colleagues, because he was “sick of the EU deciding our laws”. I asked him if he accepted that leaving was damaging to the car industry, and to Nissan. He did, he replied, then smiled, and said that would still not prompt him to change his mind.

Since the referendum, Nissan’s chairman, Ghosn, has regularly made public warnings that the operations in Sunderland will be reduced over the long term if Brexit makes the UK uncompetitive. Gibson says Britain’s lack of preparation and chaotic political process is creating “a terrible impression” with the Japanese.

Gibson knows the company intimately. After helping to establish the Sunderland plant, he went on to become president of Nissan Europe, and the first European to join the main Nissan board in Japan. “Of course, it is realistic that Nissan could stop investing in the plant; it’s the most likely outcome,” he said. “Now it is a three-company alliance; there are lots of Renault plants screaming out for future models, and Nissan plants in Spain. Why go to Sunderland, which will have more frictions and risk, and be isolated?”

During his time at Nissan – he left in 2001, after 17 years – Gibson was struck by the way Japanese business culture focused single-mindedly on careful scrutiny of the data. “They have a very rational decision-making culture,” he said. “They examine the evidence, and have a very tough debate to reach a rational conclusion.” Iida, the Japanese embassy minister, agreed with Gibson’s assessment: “It takes time for them to take a decision, but once they do, they simply don’t waver it so easily.”

Within the car industry there is exasperation, and even disdain, for the pro-Brexit argument that British-based companies will be freed from ties with the EU to “go global”. Nissan and the other major manufacturers, including suppliers, are already global; they have huge plants in the US, China, Japan, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, India and Russia. The Sunderland plant was allocated one model, the Infiniti, for export to the US, and sells some other cars around the world, but as Ghosn has emphasised, the plant is there principally to serve Europe, not to ship expensively to other continents where Nissan already has plants. Car manufacturers locate a factory in one country to serve that geographical region; Ghosn has consistently referred to Nissan’s Sunderland plant as “a European investment based in the UK”.

In September 2016, Ghosn suggested that the company’s plan to select Sunderland as the European plant to assemble its new Qashqai and X-Trail models was at risk following the referendum, and stated that the government needed to provide “commitments for compensation” if Brexit increased costs. In response, the government scurried to reassure Nissan. May met Ghosn personally, and the business secretary, Greg Clark, flew to Japan to meet senior executives. There then followed a period of correspondence that has still not been made public.

Following this government effort, on 27 October Nissan’s global headquarters in Yokohama announced that it would indeed build its new Qashqai and X-Trail models in England, “securing and sustaining the jobs of more than 7,000 workers at the [Sunderland] plant”.

Nissan has since insisted that Ghosn’s call for “compensation” was misunderstood, and was never a request for direct subsidy. However, the government has allocated considerable further UK and EU funding that has had the effect of helping Nissan. One of Nissan’s priorities, emphasised by Colin Lawther in his evidence in parliament, has been to bring more suppliers to the north-east, saving the company costs of importing and transport. In January 2017, only a few months after its intense period of correspondence with Nissan, £41m of EU funding was allocated by the north-east local enterprise partnership towards the construction of a new international advanced manufacturing park (IAMP), across the road from the Washington plant. Nissan suppliers are planned to locate on the site, where initial construction began in August.

That grant accounted for more than 80% of the £50m EU funding the local enterprise partnership had to spend in that round, so other regional infrastructure projects lost out. The chair, Andrew Hodgson, said he has never asked to see the exchange of letters between Nissan and the government, but that: “It was very clear, from a north-east perspective, we needed to invest in the IAMP.”

In March 2017, the BBC managed to uncover a small part of the correspondence between Nissan and the government. Paul Willcox, then chair of Nissan Europe, had proposed the need for more investment in electric vehicles, of which Nissan’s Leaf model is a market leader. Soon after the exchange of letters, the government announced that it would be making a multi-million pound investment in more charging points and other incentives to develop electric cars. Clark’s department for business, energy and industrial strategy has said that commitment followed general policy and was not specific to helping Nissan.

Farnsworth, the York University academic who has researched the public funding for Nissan in the UK, suggests that Brexit is already leading the British government to be defensive, desperate to keep the investment the country already has. Brexit, his report says, “gives Nissan nearly unprecedented bargaining power with the UK government. These circumstances put the government in the position of having to give Nissan exactly what it wants in order for the company to remain in the UK.”

Despite the government’s efforts to reassure Nissan, Ghosn has repeated warnings that further investment decisions are on hold. It was in June, speaking to the BBC, that he warned of gradual decline if competitiveness is damaged. “So far we have absolutely no clue how this is going to end up,” he also said. “We don’t want to take any decisions in the dark. We don’t want to take any decisions we might regret in future”.

In their statement for this article, Nissan, still quite restrained, nevertheless echoed Ghosn’s warning. “Today we are among those companies with major investments in the UK who are still waiting for clarity on what the future trading relationship between the UK and the EU will look like,” it said. “As a sudden change from those rules to the rules of the WTO will have serious implications for British industry, we urge UK and EU negotiators to work collaboratively towards an orderly, balanced Brexit that will continue to encourage mutually beneficial trade.”

Iida, at the Japanese embassy, said the priority is to avoid a hard Brexit: “Japanese companies have been seriously taking risk-hedge measures,” he said. “For example, Japanese financial institutions have already submitted business applications to cities such as Frankfurt and Amsterdam, and Japanese manufacturing companies are very quietly holding off their future investment plans.”

Since the referendum, and particularly since the publication of the government’s impact assessments earlier this year, James Ramsbotham, chief executive of the north-east chamber of commerce since 2006, has been voicing increasingly urgent warnings about the threat to the region’s economy. None of the government’s responses, or its conduct of the negotiations since, he says, have reassured him.

When I told him that Michael Heseltine had reflected on the 1980s closures of the north-east’s coal mines and heavy industry as “too unthinking”, Ramsbotham instinctively drew a parallel with Brexit: “Aren’t we in danger of doing the same unthinking thing now?” he responded. “Delivering another potentially catastrophic shock to the economy, without sufficient thinking, planning or foresight?”

Should the Big Four accountancy firms be split up?

Natasha Landell-Mills and Jim Peterson in The Financial Times

Yes - Separating audit from consulting would prevent conflicts of interest.

Auditors are failing investors. The situation has become so dire that last week the head of the UK’s accounting watchdog said it was time to consider forcing audit firms to divest their substantial and lucrative consulting work, writes Natasha Landell-Mills. 

This shift from the Financial Reporting Council, which opposed the idea six years ago, is welcome. But breaking up the Big Four accountancy firms — PwC, KPMG, EY and Deloitte — can only be a first step. Lasting reform depends on auditors working for shareholders, not management. 

Auditors are supposed to underpin trust in financial markets. Major stock markets require listed companies to hire auditors to verify their accounts, providing reassurance to shareholders that material matters have been inspected and their capital is protected. In the UK, auditors must certify that the published numbers give a “true and fair view” of circumstances and income; that they have been prepared in accordance with accounting standards; and that they comply with company law. 

But audit is failing to meet investors’ expectations. The failure of Carillion, linked to aggressive accounting, is just the latest high profile example. And this is not just a UK phenomenon. The International Forum of Independent Audit Regulators found that 40 per cent of the audits it inspected were sub-standard. 

Multiple market failures need to be addressed. The most obvious problem is that audit quality is invisible to those whom it is intended to benefit: the shareholders. It is difficult to differentiate good and bad audits. Even with the introduction of extended auditor reports in the UK (and starting in 2019 in the US), formulaic notes about audit risks often hide more than they convey. 

Even when questions are raised about the quality of audits, shareholders almost always vote to retain auditors, with most receiving at least 95 per cent support. Last year, 97 per cent of Carillion shareholders voted to re-appoint KPMG. Lack of scrutiny creates space for conflicts of interest. Auditors who feel accountable to company executives rather than shareholders will be less likely to challenge them. These conflicts are exacerbated when audit firms also sell other services to management teams, particularly if that consultancy work is more profitable. 

The dominance of the Big Four in large company audits is another concern: when large and powerful firms are able to crowd out high quality competitors, the damage is lasting. 

Taken together, these failures have resulted in a dysfunctional audit market that needs a broad revamp. Splitting audit from consulting would prevent the most insidious conflict of interest. When non-audit work makes up around 80 per cent of fee income for the Big Four (and just over half of income from audit clients), the influence of this part of the business is huge. 

Current limits on consulting work have not eliminated this problem. They are often set too high or can be gamed, while auditors can still be influenced by the hope of winning non-audit work after they relinquish the audit mandate. 

There is quite simply no compelling reason why shareholders should accept these conflicts and the resulting risks to audit quality introduced by non-audit work. But other reforms are necessary. 

Auditors should provide meaningful disclosures about the risks they uncover. They need to verify that company accounts do not overstate performance and capital and that unrealised profits are disclosed. 

Engagement between shareholders and audit committees and auditors should become the norm, not the exception. Shareholders need to scrutinise accounting and audit performance, and use their votes to remove auditors or audit committee directors where performance is substandard. 

Finally, the accounting watchdogs must be far more robust on audit quality and impose meaningful sanctions. Even the best intentioned will struggle against a broken system. 


No — Lopping off advisory services would hurt performance 

The recent spate of large-scale corporate accounting scandals is deeply worrying and raises a familiar question: “Where were the auditors?” But the correct answer does not involve breaking up the four professional services firms that dominate auditing, writes Jim Peterson. 

Forcing Deloitte, EY, KPMG and PwC to shed their non-audit businesses would neither add competition nor boost smaller competitors. Lopping off the Big Four’s consulting and advisory services would degrade their performance, weaken them financially, and hamper their ability to meet the needs of their clients and the capital markets. 

Although the UK regulator is raising competition concerns, the root problem is global. The growth of the Big Four, operating in more than 100 countries, reflects their multinational clients’ needs for breadth of geographic presence and specialised industry expertise. 

 The yawning gap in size between the Big Four and their smaller peers has long since grown beyond closure: even the smallest, KPMG, took in $26.4bn in 2017, three times as much as BDO, its next nearest competitor. If pressed, risk managers of the smaller firms admit to lacking the skills and the risk tolerance even to consider bidding to audit a far-flung multinational. 

The suggestion that competition and choice would be increased by splitting up the Big Four is doubly unrealistic. Forcing them to spin off their non-auditing business would not create any new auditors. We would continue to see dilemmas like the one faced by BT last year when it set out to replace PwC after a £530m discrepancy was uncovered in the accounts of its Italian division. The UK telecoms group ended up picking KPMG for want of alternatives, even though BT’s chairman had previously been global chairman of KPMG. 

Similarly, Japan’s Toshiba tossed EY in favour of PwC in 2016, only to suffer disagreements with the second firm — this led to delays in its financial statements and an eventual qualified audit report. Wish as it might, Toshiba has no further choices, because of business-based conflicts on the part of Deloitte and KPMG. 

A split by industry sector — say, assigning auditing of banking and technology to Firm A-1, while manufacturing and energy go to new Firm A-2 — would be no better. Each sector would still be served by just four big firms. If each firm were split in half, the two smaller firms would struggle to amass the expertise, personnel and capital necessary to provide the level of service that big companies expect. 

Splitting auditing from advisory work is a solution in search of a problem. Many jurisdictions, including the UK, EU and US, restrict the ability of firms to cross-sell other services to their audit clients. Concerns about inherent conflicts of interest are overblown. 

The enthusiasm for cutting up the Big Four also fails to recognise how the world is changing. The rise of artificial intelligence, blockchain and robotics is reshaping the way information is gathered and verified. Auditors will need more — rather than less — expertise. 

Warehouse inventories, crop yields and wind farms will soon be surveyed rapidly and comprehensively in ways that could easily displace the tedious and partial sampling done for decades by squadrons of young audit staff. But to take advantage of these advances, auditors need to have the scale, the financial strength and the technical skills to develop and offer them. 

These tools will also deliver data that management needs for operational and strategic decision making. If auditors are to be barred from providing this kind of advisory work, the legitimacy of methods that have prevailed since the Victorian era is under threat. Investors will require some sort of audit function, but who would provide it? Splitting up the Big Four will achieve nothing if they fail and are replaced by arms of Amazon and Google. 

Auditors should be held accountable for their mistakes, but these issues are too complex for simplistic solutions. Rather than a quick amputation, we need a full-scale re-engineering of the current model with all of its parts.

Mobile phone companies have failed – it's time to nationalise them

It may sound like off-the-wall leftiness, but there are clear and convincing arguments for a nationalised mobile phone network

• 
• • Owen Jones
  • The Guardian, Monday 11 August 2014

Mobile phone companies put profit before the needs of the consumer. Photograph: Alamy

Nationalisation is a taboo among the political and media elite, its mere mention guaranteed to provoke near-instantaneous shrieks of "dinosaur!" and "go back to the 1970s". Imagine the Establishment's horror, then, when a succession of recent polls found that nearly seven out of 10 Britons wanted the renationalisation of energy, and two-thirds of the electorate wanted rail and Royal Mail back in public hands. Even Ukip voters – those notorious bastions of pinko leftiness – overwhelmingly backed the renationalisation of key utilities. While our political overlords are besotted with Milton Friedman, on many issues the public seem to be lodged somewhere between John Maynard Keynes and Karl Marx.

Previously state-owned services are one thing: but what about the mobile phone network? Even the very suggestion is inviting ridicule. But if people are so keen for public ownership of rail, why is the case any weaker for mobile phones? They are a natural monopoly, and the fragmentation of the telecommunications network is inefficient. Their service is often poor because they put profit ahead of the needs of the consumer. And rather than being the product of a dynamic free market and individual plucky entrepreneurs, their technological success owes everything to the public sector. It might seem like barking leftiness on speed, but the arguments for nationalising phone networks are less absurd than they might appear.

The eternal irritation of any mobile phone user is the signal blackspot. They affect everyone. Even David Cameron has had to return early from his holidays in Cornwall because of problems with signal "not-spots". Nor is it only a problem for people in rural areas. Richard Brown lives at the top of a hill in Brighton, and he can't get a signal withVodafone, despite its database claiming excellent coverage. "So for £100 I bought a 'Sure Signal' device – or in other words paid £100 to enable Vodafone to deliver me the core service that I am already paying upwards of £30 a month for." It plugs into the router and drains power, but seems to make little difference.

In his south London flat, EE customer Ben Goddard's mobile phone almost always registers no bars. With missed calls from hospitals and family members, he's been forced to install a house phone. "Zero signal in east London," says fellow EE user Dom O'Hanlon. "No attempt to fix, help or offer customer service." EE seem to have abandoned its earlier incarnation as 'Everything Everywhere' because it was so widely mocked as 'Nothing Nowhere'. When Ben Parker switched from EE to Vodafone, he found that his signal did improve, but his data access died, forcing him to depend on Wi-Fi.

If you have tried to deal with the customer service arm of the mobile phone giants, then please do not read on, because you will only relive traumas you would rather forget. After Grace Garland was signed up to EE from her Orange contract, her 4G and internet access all but vanished for several months. Errors at EE's end left her being charged double, and its system believed she had run out of her data allowance, leaving her with no access to crucial work emails. "No one took my concerns seriously," she says. "They told me they had actually subcontracted a lot of their technical support to outside parties who can only be contacted by them by email, making everything slow and ineffectual." Of course, mobile phone companies do not provide detailed data about their national coverage, leaving customers to choose on the basis of factors such as price.

According to OpenSignal – a company that is ingeniously working out national signal coverage by tracking data from mobile users – the average British user has no signal 15% of the time. And here is where the point about a natural monopoly creeps in. Mobile phone companies build their masts, but don't want to share them with their competitors. That means that rather than having a network that reflects people's needs, we are constantly zipping past masts we are locked out of. In many rural areas, mobile phone companies are simply making the decision that there are not enough people to justify building more masts. Profit is prioritised over building an effective network that gives all citizens access.

 Signal failure … a woman struggles to make a call in Hythe, Kent. Photograph: Alamy

To be fair to the government, it is proposing action to compel companies to share masts. But OpenSignal's Samuel Johnson says that this would only cover phone calls and text messages, not data, and would reduce our time without signal to about 7%. Why not force them to share all data? "Well, it'd be bad for competition, because it would hit their profits," he says. Not only that, but even if the government's modest measures are implemented, the potential financial hit to mobile phone companies would deter them from clamping down on the final 7%.

Customers are ripped off in other ways. The former Daily Telegraph journalist George Pitcher has pointed out that the typical "free phone when you sign a long contract" offer is a scam. In a typical £32-a-month contract spread over two years, you're coughing up £768, even though the phone is worth just £200. Get a £15-a-month SIM card-only deal and buy a £10 mobile off eBay instead, he suggests, and you'll save £400. "Perhaps the mobile phone companies could be nationalised and given to the banks?" he concludes. Last part aside, Pitcher has it in one. And then there's the derisory cost to the company of sending snippets of data such as text messages – which can cost the user 14p a pop. Last year, Citizens Advice received a whopping 28,000 complaints about mobile phones, often from customers who could not be released from contracts even if there was no signal in their area.

Neither are mobile phones themselves triumphs of the private sector, or even close. "It's not far-fetched to suggest nationalisation," says economics professor Mariana Mazzucato, "because these companies aren't the result of some individual entrepreneur in the garage. It was all state-funded from the start." As I write this, I fiddle occasionally with my iPhone: in her hugely influential book The Entrepreneurial State, Mazzucato looks at how its key components, like touchscreen technology, Siri and GPS are the products of public-sector research. That goes for the internet, too – the child of the US military-industrial complex and the work of Sir Tim Berners-Lee at the state-run European research organisation Cern in Geneva.

"It's actually the classic case of economies of scale, or a natural monopoly, and the decision you'd have to make is whether it's one firm or the state running the whole thing," says Mazzucato. "When you chop it up, you lose the benefits of cost and efficiency from having one operator." Many network providers spend more money on share buybacks than research and development, retarding further technological progress in the name of profit. And then there's Vodafone, which has become one of the key targets of the anti-tax avoidance movement. It's cheeky, really: leave the state to fund the technology your business relies on, and then do everything you can to avoid paying anything back.

There are many reasons why a fragmented mobile phone network is bad for the consumer. Dr Oliver Holland of King's College London's Centre for Telecommunications Research sympathises with the idea of a nationalised network on technical grounds. This is how he explains it. Each mobile phone company is allotted a slice of the frequency spectrum. But at any given time, lots of customers belonging to one company may be using their mobile phones. "You will probably have a reduction in the quality of the service, because they're all competing for the spectrum." Customers belonging to another company may be using the service less at the same time, leaving their slice of the spectrum to go to waste when others need it. "If you had just one body, instead of dividing the spectrum into chunks, they can use it more efficiently," he says.

The case for nationalising mobile phone companies is actually pretty overwhelming. It would mean an integrated network, with masts serving customers on the basis of need, rather than subordinating the needs of users to the needs of shareholders. Profits could be reinvested in research and development, as well as developing effective customer services. Rip-off practices could be eradicated. It doesn't have to be run by a bunch of bureaucrats: consumers could elect representatives on to the management board to make sure the publicly run company is properly accountable. Neither does nationalisation have to be costly: Clement Attlee's postwar Labour government pulled it off by swapping shares for government bonds. So yes, it might sound far-fetched, the sort of proposal that lends itself to endless satire from the triumphalist neoliberal right. But next time you're yelling at your signal-free mobile phone, it might not seem so wacky after all.

For Scotland, the independence debate is about more than the economy, stupid

Salmond and Darling will batter viewers with data in Tuesday’s TV debate, but in the end the heart will outweigh the wallet

• 
• • Chris Huhne
  • The Guardian, Sunday 3 August 2014 19.19 BST

A report from the Scottish government suggested Scots would be £1,000 a year better with independence, but a UK Treasury report suggested the opposite. Photograph: Ken Jack/Demotix/Corbis

In Scotland, if you doubted the stakes, wait for Tuesday’s ­televised independence debate between Alistair Darling and Alex ­Salmond. The race remains close, and is likely to get closer. This weekend’s Survation poll put “no” ahead by just 6%. That is uncannily close to the polls six weeks before the Quebec referendum in 1995, which the Canadian federalists won by a nail-biting 1.2%.

The downside of these two TV champions for their cause is that they are both so economic: the former UK chancellor of the exchequer against the former Royal Bank of Scotland oil economist (and a good one). The danger, as a non-economist Treasury minister once said after a mandarin’s briefing, is that the viewers will be just as confused at the end – but at a higher level.

I have been reading the Scotsman – an excellent paper – and the Glasgow Herald day after day, which has given me a sympathy for Scottish voters who must be punch-drunk from rival, largely economic claims about the future. The two campaigns recently excelled themselves by producing on the same day apparently authoritative assessments that diametrically contradicted each other.

For the unionists, a UK Treasury-sponsored report suggested that each Scot would be £1,400 a year better off in the union. For the nationalists, another report from the Scottish government suggested that Scots would be £1,000 a year better off outside it. This is bemusing enough for anyone with a background in ­economics, let alone anyone without one. It is also largely irrelevant. Both sides are deploying spurious precision for economic issues that are largely unknowable in the current state of economics.

In one of my past lives, I used to assess the strength and risks of different economies for potential international investors. “Sovereign risk”, as it is called, is an art, not a science. Politics matters as much as economics, and big or small size has both advantages and disadvantages. Scotland’s population, at 5.5 million, is similar to the 5.6 million in Denmark – a perfectly respectably sized nation that has proved to be a rich success for years. The upside of being the size of Denmark, as opposed to the size of the UK or France, is that you can be nimble in reaction to global economic shocks and opportunities. The state can help businesses adjust and respond. All the key players can meet up and reach consensus in a reasonably sized room.

This helps. Of the 10 most prosperous nations on Earth, measured in the most effective manner by the World Bank’s national income per head allowing for purchasing power, only the US is big. The next biggest countries are Sweden (9.5 million people), Switzerland (8 million), Denmark and Norway (5 million). Germany comes in at 13th, France 18th and the UK 21st.

If we take culturally similar countries that share a language, small usually trumps big. Irish income per head is now 0.5% higher than the UK’s, even after profits have been paid to foreign investors. Austria is 0.3% ahead of Germany, and Belgium is 8.7% ahead of France. One exception is that Canada is slightly poorer than the big US.

The major disadvantage of small size is that you can be buffeted by global shocks if you specialise in particular industries. Finland was hit by the collapse of the Soviet Union, because it exported so much there. Iceland and ­Ireland were particularly badly hit by the banking crisis. Big countries are naturally more diversified, and therefore less vulnerable to shocks.

If the Scots vote for independence, there may be some transitional costs where there are economies of scale with the UK – embassies and so forth. I cannot see how the Bank of England could be lender of last resort to Scottish banks after independence, so there may be losses as financial services companies prefer a London regulator and backer. This was the experience with Quebec, where the fear of independence drove Montreal-based insurers to Toronto. But the big picture suggests that these will be small and short-term effects.

Natural resources such as oil and gas matter much less than both Salmond and Darling will pretend. The truth is that rich countries do well because of their human skills and ingenuity, not their resource windfalls. Look at Switzerland. On education, Scotland’s performance in the OECD international tests of student achievement is a little better than England for reading and maths, and a little worse for science.

If Scotland goes, it will be in everyone’s interest to have a “velvet divorce”, as the separation of the Czech Republic and Slovakia was described. A nasty and messy separation would damage both sides. London will want early certainty, and for Scotland to be an EU member alongside the rest of the UK. The result on 18 September may rewrite history, but not geography. We will all still share the same island. Their mess will be ours, both sides of the border. So we will all have an interest not to make a mess.

If Scotland stays, as I hope it will, the UK will never be the same again. More fiscal powers – including the power to borrow – will provide a new impetus to decentralisation, not just to Edinburgh but to Cardiff, Manchester, Leeds and Newcastle. We will need a new constitutional settlement, and new ways, as all federal states enjoy, of legally settling differences between levels of government. These are challenges already met and mastered in Canada, Australia and elsewhere.

The main motive, if Scots opt for independence, will be their desire to shake off the incubus of English conservatism. The natural centre of gravity of Scottish politics will be more leftwing than that of the UK. Scotland could be a successful, liberal-minded and social democratic nation on the Scandinavian model. Nothing wrong with that, except for English progressives who will have to contend with a centre of gravity that has moved to the right. For England and Wales, politics will adjust. The Labour party would become more rightwing to ensure a competitive system.

In the end, it seems to me offensive on the part of both sides in the debate to concentrate so slavishly on the economics, when realistically the economic outlook cannot and should not be decisive. It is as if they have both leased their campaigns, in the old adage, to people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. It is the heart that will decide the future of our island, not the pocketbook. That is surely right.