In today's corporations the buck never stops. Welcome to the age of irresponsibility

Our largest companies have become so complex that no one's expected to fully know what's going on. Yet the rewards are bigger than ever

• 
• • Ha-Joon Chang
  • The Guardian, Tuesday 9 July 2013 21.30 BST

Hon Ha's Foxconn plant in Shenzhen, China, in 2010. That year there were 12 suicides in the 300,000-strong workforce. 'The top managers of Apple escaped blame because these deaths happened in ­factories in another country (China) owned by a company from yet another country (Hon Hai, the Taiwanese ­multinational).' Photograph: Qilai Shen

George Osborne confirmed on Monday that he would accept the recommendation of Britain's parliamentary commission on banking standards and add to his banking reform bill a new offence of "reckless misconduct in the management of a bank".

That is a bit of a setback for the managerial class, but it still does not sufficiently change the overall picture that it is a great time to be a top manager in the corporate world, especially in the US and Britain.

Not only do they give you a good salary and handsome bonus, but they are really understanding when you fail to live up to expectations. If they want to show you the door in the middle of your term, they will give you millions of dollars, even tens of millions, in "termination payment". Even if you have totally screwed up, the worst that can happen is that they take away your knighthood or make you give up, say, a third of your multimillion-pound pension pot.

Even better, the buck never stops at your desk. It usually stops at the lowest guy in the food chain – a rogue trader or some owner of a two-bit factory in Bangladesh. Occasionally you may have to blame your main supplier, but rarely your own company, and never yourself.

Welcome to the age of irresponsibility.

The largest companies today are so complex that top managers are not even expected to know fully what is really going on in them. These companies have also increasingly outsourced activities to multiple layers of subcontractors in supply chains crisscrossing the globe.

Increasing complexity not only lowers the quality of decisions, as it creates an information overload, but makes it more difficult to pin down responsibilities. A number of recent scandals have brought home this reality.

The multiple suicides of workers in Foxconn factories in China have revealed Victorian labour conditions down the supply chains for the most futuristic Apple products. But the top managers of Apple escaped blame because these deaths happened in factories in another country (China) owned by a company from yet another country (Hon Hai, the Taiwanese multinational).

No one at the top of the big supermarkets took serious responsibility in the horsemeat scandal because, it was accepted, they could not be expected to police supply chains running from Romania through the Netherlands, Cyprus and Luxembourg to France (and that is only one of several chains involved).

The problem is even more serious in the financial sector, which these days deals in assets that involve households (in the case of mortgages), companies and governments all over the world. On top of that these financial assets are combined, sliced and diced many times over, to produce highly complicated "derivative" products. The result is an exponential increase in complexity.

Andy Haldane, executive director of financial stability at the Bank of England, once pointed out that in order to fully understand a CDO2 – one of the more complicated financial derivatives (but not the most complicated) – a prospective investor needs to absorb more than a billion pages of information. I have come across bankers who confessed that they had derivative contracts running to a few hundred pages, which they naturally didn't have time to read.

Given this level of complexity, financial companies have come to rely heavily on countless others – stock analysts, financial journalists, credit-rating agencies, you name it – for information and, more importantly, making judgments. This means that when something goes wrong, they can always blame others: poor people in Florida who bought houses they cannot afford; "irresponsible" foreign governments; misleading foreign stock analysts; and, yes, incompetent credit-rating agencies.

The result is an economic system in which no one in "responsible" positions takes any serious responsibility. Unless radical action is taken, we will see many more financial crises and corporate scandals in the years to come.

The first thing we need is to modernise our sense of crime and punishment. Most of us still instinctively subscribe to the primeval notion of crime as a direct physical act – killing someone, stealing silver. But in the modern economy, with a complex division of labour, indirect non-physical acts can also seriously harm people. If misbehaving financiers and incompetent regulators cause an economic crisis, they can indirectly kill people by subjecting them to unemployment-related stress and by reducing public health expenditure, as shown by books like The Body Politic. We need to accept the seriousness of these "long-distance crimes" and strengthen punishments for them.

More importantly, we need to simplify our economic system so that responsibilities are easier to determine. This is not to say we have to go back to the days of small workshops owned by a single capitalist: increased complexity is inevitable if we are to increase productivity. However, much of the recent rise in complexity has been designed to make money for certain people, at the cost of social productivity. Such socially unproductive complexity needs to be reduced.

Financial derivatives are the most obvious examples. Given their potential to exponentially increase the complexity of the financial system – and thus the degree of irresponsibility within it – we should only allow such products when their creators can prove their productivity and safety, similar to how the drug approval process works.

The negative potential of outsourcing in non-financial industries may not be as great as that of financial derivatives, but the buying companies should be made far more accountable for making their subcontractors comply with rules regarding product safety, working conditions and environmental standards.

Without measures to simplify the system and recalibrate our sense of crime and punishment, the age of irresponsibility will destroy us all.

Company profits depend on the 'welfare payments' they get from society

The free market is a myth. From drug patents to quantitative easing, businesses make money because of state help

• 
• • Ha-Joon Chang
  • The Guardian, Friday 5 April 2013

Swiss drugmaker Novartis's headquarters in Basel. ‘Switzerland infamously had no patent law until 1888, half a century after its introduction in most of rich capitalist countries.’ Photograph: Christian Hartmann/Reuters

Earlier this week, India's supreme court ruled that the country will not grant a patent to Novartis, the Swiss pharmaceutical company, for the cancer drug, Glivec. Being a new version of an existing drug, the ruling said, it does not deliver enough innovation to warrant a patent. Novartis condemned the ruling as "a setback for patients that will hinder medical progress for diseases without effective treatment options".

This statement is rich coming from a company from Switzerland – a country that infamously had no patent law until 1888, half a century after its introduction in most rich capitalist countries.

Even after 1888, Switzerland refused to award pharmaceutical and other chemical patents for two decades, the new patent law having stipulated that patents are granted only to "inventions that can be represented by mechanical models". The country introduced chemical patents only in 1907 under intense pressure from Germany, whose technologies its pharmaceutical companies were liberally "borrowing". Ciba-Geigy and Sandoz, whose merger in 1996 created Novartis, were among those companies.

What is more, until 1978, Switzerland granted patents only for chemical process (that is, how you make a chemical) and not for chemical substance (that is, the chemical itself), on the reasonable ground that the substance had always existed in nature and the "inventor" has only found a way of isolating it. This was actually a rather widely accepted view at the time. Germany and France had only just introduced chemical substance patents in the late 1960s. Canada and Spain refused to grant patents to pharmaceutical substances until 1992.

Despite all this history, the pharmaceutical industry is extremely aggressive with substance patents, as in the case of Glivec, because it knows that its profit level will fall dramatically without them. Unlike a BMW or an Airbus, chemical substances are very easy to copy. Even if the processes of manufacturing them are patented, you can relatively easily come up with alternative processes. Without the artificial monopoly conferred by the patent, the inventor of a chemical substance can make only little money (generic drugs typically cost 5% of drugs with patent monopoly).

Patent monopoly creates a lot of problems. It allows the patentee to charge the maximum to consumers. This may not be a problem if the patented product is a luxury item, like parts that go into a smartphone, but can violate basic human rights if it involves things such as life-saving drugs. Patent monopoly also blocks technological progress in the relevant fields during its duration (20 years), as other people cannot use the patented technologies in developing other technologies.

Despite all these problems, we, as society, grant patent monopoly because we believe that it brings more than compensating benefits. By giving greater incentives to invest in developing new technologies, patent monopoly can create more innovative technologies. This means that society has the right not to grant a patent for a technology when it feels that the benefits are outweighed by the costs, as in the Indian court ruling against Novartis.

The pharmaceutical industry most starkly reveals how profits are "social" creations – it makes its profit because it is granted artificial monopolies in the form of patents. But it is not alone in this respect.

Another obvious case is the banking industry. Today, many banks all over the world would not have existed but for the huge public money poured into them in the aftermath of the 2008 crisis. Even in the case of those that have not been bailed out, their profits would have been much lower (or their losses far bigger, in the case of loss-making ones) without the cheap money showered on them – without any condition, unlike in the case of state supports such as unemployment benefit – through cuts in interest rates and thequantitative easing by the Bank of England.

In other instances, the social protection of business is more roundabout. The horsemeat scandal has revealed that British supermarkets and the European meat industry have made higher profits from the relaxation of regulations regarding food standards, introduced by the coalition government in 2010 in the name of cutting government spending and, more important, "red tape". The Poundland scandal has revealed that British retail stores would make lower profits if they were not allowed to use the claimants of unemployment benefits as unpaid workers.

I can go on, but the point is that all businesses make what profits they make only because the government, and the electorate as the ultimate sovereign (at least in theory), helps them in all sorts of ways – free money (banks), free workers (Poundland), monopoly rights (pharmaceutical companies), implicit permission for substandard products (supermarkets).

Once we accept that the amounts of profit companies make are ultimately determined by these "welfare payments" society decides to confer upon them, we begin to see the problem with the free-market view that has dominated the world for the last few decades.

For far too long we have been told by the business lobby and free-market ideologues that profit is the objective indicator of a company's contribution to the economy, when it is really socially and politically determined. Poor people receiving government benefits have been told far too often that they are spongers, when the rich get even more government benefits.

It is time that we dispensed with the myth that the market is a force of nature that should not be meddled with. Markets are social creations that can be, and have been, modified for social purposes.

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West should learn from India’s high patent standards

SA Aiyar
07 April 2013, 06:03 AM IST

 

 

 

The Supreme Court’s denial of a patent for Glivec, an anti-leukaemia drug made by Novartis of Switzerland, has been widely but wrongly hailed by NGOs and castigated by pharmaceutical companies as an attack on patents and a victory for cheap medicine. Actually, the Court fully upheld the principle of patents, but set a high bar for deciding what’s innovative and what’s mere tweaking. 

Instead of attacking the verdict, Western countries should raise their standards too. Their overliberal grant of patents has led to the tiniest design changes becoming patentable. This was exemplified by last year’s ridiculous battle between Samsung and Apple on whether features like a rounded rectangular cellphone screen and finger movements were patentable. Smartphones are a great invention, but hardly justify the grant of as many as 25,000 patents, many for piffling details. 

Till 1995, India refused to patent drug molecules. But as a consequence of WTO membership, India in 2005 allowed product patents for drugs, but only for innovations after 1995. This meant no patent for Glivec, which was patented first in 1993. To get around this, in 2006 Novartis tried to patent a new variation of Glivec, for which it claimed improved efficacy. Some other countries granted patents for this variation. But the Indian Patents Office rejected the claim as insufficiently innovative. So too has the Supreme Court. 

Many NGOs hailed the judgment for the wrong reason. The Cancer Patients Aid Association, which led the fight against Glivec, declared: “We are happy that the apex court has recognised the right of patients to access affordable medicines over profits for big pharmaceutical companies through patents.” 

False: no such right was recognized by the court. It simply said Novartis had not proved that the new variation was innovative enough. The court clarified that it would grant patents for variations that were more efficacious, but set a higher standard for proof than many western courts do. 

NGOs are wrong to paint Novartis as a bloodsucker that pauperizes patients. Glivec has saved lakhs of leukaemia patients from death. This is a great boon, and we must encourage more such life-saving boons by granting patents for new drugs. However, this does not mean giving patents for mere tweaking and “evergreening” of existing drugs through minor variations. 

Normally, governments promote competition and prohibit monopolies. But temporary monopolies (patents) are justified to promote innovation in drugs and other fields. The patent regime should ensure that the public benefit from innovation far exceeds the cost imposed by monopoly profits. This implies a high bar for granting patents. But the US and other western countries have been giving patents so liberally and broadly that these lead more to lawsuits than innovation, leaving lawyers as the chief beneficiaries . Patents are supposed to spur innovation, but when granted over-liberally they create so much lawsuit risk and cost that they end up hampering innovation, not aiding it. 

The Economist (UK), no basher of multinationals, acknowledges that over-liberal “proliferation of patents harms the public in three ways. First, it means that technology companies will compete more at the courtroom than in the marketplace. Second, it hampers follow-on improvements by firms that implement an existing technology but build upon it as well. Third, it fuels many of the American patent system’s broader problems, such as patent trolls (speculative lawsuits by patentholders who have no intention of actually making anything); defensive patenting (acquiring patents mainly to pre-empt the risk of litigation, which raises business costs); and “innovation gridlock” (the difficulty of combining multiple technologies to create a single new product because too many small patents are spread among too many players).” 

Patent trolls buy up patents in bulk, typically from bankrupt companies, not for actual use but simply to hit other innovators with lawsuits for patent infringement, forcing them to settle to avoid fat legal bills. One US study estimated such legal costs at $ 29 billion in 2011 alone. 

Last year, Google bought Motorola’s failing smartphone business for $ 12.5 billion, to access its 17,000 patents. Microsoft and others paid $ 4.5 billion for 6,000 patents from Nortel. Most of these will never be used in actual production: they are simply kept as legal weapons for possible lawsuits. This has nothing to do with innovation, which patents are supposed to promote. 

The West’s over-liberal patent system is broken. It should learn from India’s much tougher system. Patents should be seen as monopolies, to be given sparingly only for genuine innovations where the public benefit clearly exceeds the monopoly cost. This means setting a high bar for innovation. High standards are desirable for patents, as for everything else.

The meat scandal shows all that is rotten about our free marketeers

This is a crisis not only for environment secretary, Owen Paterson, but for the whole Conservative party

• 
• • Will Hutton
  • The Observer, Sunday 17 February 2013

A laboratory worker tests beef lasagne. Photograph: Pascal Lauener/Reuters

The collapse of a belief system paralyses and terrifies in equal measure. Certainties are exploded. A reliable compass for action suddenly becomes inoperable. Everything you once thought solid vaporises.

Owen Paterson, secretary of state for the environment, food and rural affairs, is living through such a nightmare and is utterly lost. All his once confident beliefs are being shredded. As the horsemeat saga unfolds, it becomes more obvious by the day that those Thatcherite verities – that the market is unalloyed magic, that business must always be unshackled from "wealth-destroying" regulation, that the state must be shrunk, that the EU is a needless collectivist project from which Britain must urgently declare independence – are wrong.

Indeed, to save his career and his party's sinking reputation, he has to reverse his position on every one. The only question is whether he is sufficiently adroit to make the change.

Paterson is one of the Tories who joyfully shared the scorched earth months of the summer of 2010 when war was declared on quangos and the bloated, as they saw it, "Brownian" state. The Food Standards Agency was a natural candidate for dismemberment. Of course an integrated agency inspecting, advising and enforcing food safety and hygiene should be broken up. As an effective regulator, it was disliked by "wealth-generating" supermarkets and food companies. Its 1,700 inspectors were agents of the state terrifying honest-to-God entrepreneurs with unannounced spot checks and enforced "gold-plated" food labelling. Regulation should be "light touch".

No Tory would say that now, not even Paterson, one of the less sharp knives in the political drawer. He runs the ministry that took over the FSA's inspecting function at the same time as it was reeling from massive budget cuts, which he also joyfully cheered on. He finds himself with no answer to the charge that his hollowed-out department, a gutted FSA with 800 fewer inspectors and eviscerated local government were and are incapable of ensuring public health.

Paterson, beneath the ideological bluster, is as innocent about business as Bambi. Even the most callow observer could predict that with the wholesale slaughter of horses across the continent as recession hit the racing industry – horsemeat production jumped by 52% in 2012 – some was bound to enter the pan-European network of abattoirs, just-in-time buying, industrial refrigeration units, food brokers and giant supermarkets that deliver British and European consumers their food.

Meanwhile, the budgets of some local government food sampling units have been slashed by 70%. A Tesco beef burger containing 29% horsemeat was an accident waiting to happen. Of course it was the Food Safety Authority of Ireland rather than the FSA that blew the whistle. Businesses owned by footloose "tourist" shareholders whose sole purpose is profit maximisation in transactional markets have an embedded propensity to degrade. Consumers and suppliers alike become no more than anonymised numbers to be exploited to hit the next quarter's profit target.

The large supermarkets have said little or nothing, which Number 10 deplores. There is nothing they can say. They have lobbied for the world in which we now live. An alternative world – in which consumers were genuinely served and where it is understood that suppliers need adequate profit margins in the supermarkets' interests as much as the suppliers' own – has to be created by stakeholders, including by government. There is a codependency between state, society, business and business supply chains, anathema to Paterson with his undeviating obeisance to the virtues of a "private sector" free from such "burdens".

What the Paterson worldview has never understood is that effective regulation is a source of competitive advantage. If Britain had a tough Food Standards Agency, it would become a gold standard for food quality, labelling and hygiene. British supermarkets and food companies could become known for their quality at home and abroad, rather as "over-regulated" German car companies are, rather than first suspects when something dodgy is going on. Capitalism does not organise itself to deliver best outcomes, whatever rightwing American thinktanks might claim. There has to be careful thought, law and regulation about the obligations that accompany incorporation and ownership, how supply chains are organised and how companies are managed and financed. Otherwise disaster awaits.

And there are other bitter implications for Paterson. Geography means that Britain is inevitably part of the European food supply chain. Our efforts at better regulation – and of catching wrongdoers – have to be matched by others for everyone's sake, exactly what the EU was set up to do and is now doing. The hypocrisy of passionate Eurosceptic Owen Paterson flying to the Hague urgently to meet Europol, saying afterwards: "It's increasingly clear the case reaches right across Europe. Europol is the right organisation to co-ordinate efforts to uncover all wrongdoing and bring criminals to justice" and urging all European governments to share information with it, should not be lost on anyone. Europol holds powers from which Eurosceptic Tories, led by Paterson, urgently want an opt-out, but not in the middle of a first-order food safety and hygiene crisis.

That everything Paterson believes in is so wrong is not just a crisis for him – it is a crisis for his party and for Britain's centre-right media whose prejudices makes thinking straight in the Tory party impossible. A great country cannot be governed by politicians whose instincts and policies are at such odds with reality, so betraying the people, economy and society they govern. The horsemeat crisis is not confined to our food chain. It reveals the existential crisis in contemporary Conservatism. British democracy needs a functioning, fit for purpose party of the centre-right.

Instead, it has Owen Paterson and today's Tories.