The Mafia came into existence due to poor Government: Mariana Mazucato

 

Parasite Relation between Public and Private Sector

 

A Level Economics 54: Monopoly

Market failure arising from monopoly firms occurs due to the significant market power they possess, which allows them to restrict output, charge higher prices, and limit competition. This results in an inefficient allocation of resources and a loss of consumer welfare. Let's explore the market failures arising from monopoly firms:

1. Higher Prices and Reduced Output: Monopoly firms can set prices higher than their production costs due to the lack of competition. Since they are the sole providers of a particular good or service, consumers have no choice but to accept the higher prices. This leads to reduced consumer surplus, as consumers pay more for the product than they would in a competitive market.

   Example: A pharmaceutical company holds a patent for a life-saving drug. As the only producer, they can charge exorbitant prices, making it unaffordable for many patients in need.

2. 
   

3. Inefficient Resource Allocation: Monopoly firms may not allocate resources efficiently to meet consumer demand. Their focus may be on maximizing profits rather than producing the optimal quantity of goods or services that align with consumer preferences.

   Example: A monopoly internet service provider may invest less in network expansion and improvements since they face limited competition. As a result, consumers may experience slower and unreliable internet services.

4. 
   

5. Lack of Innovation: Monopoly firms may lack incentives for innovation and improvement since they face no pressure from competitors. Without competition, there is less motivation to invest in research and development or enhance products and services.

   Example: A monopoly operating in the telecommunications sector may not invest in new technologies or offer innovative services since they already dominate the market.

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7. Deadweight Loss: Deadweight loss refers to the welfare loss experienced by society when resources are not efficiently allocated. In a monopoly, deadweight loss arises due to the underproduction of goods and services compared to a competitive market.

   Example: A monopoly producing widgets may restrict output to maximize profits, leading to an inefficiently low quantity of widgets produced and consumed.

8. 
   

9. Rent-Seeking Behavior: Monopoly firms may engage in rent-seeking behavior, using their market power to lobby for regulations and policies that protect their position. This diverts resources away from productive activities and undermines overall economic efficiency.

   Example: A monopoly energy company may lobby the government to impose regulations that limit competition from renewable energy sources, protecting its market dominance.

10. 
    

11. Inequitable Distribution of Income: Monopoly profits may be concentrated in the hands of a few, exacerbating income inequality and wealth disparities in society.

    Example: A monopoly in the media industry may control multiple platforms and generate significant profits, contributing to media ownership concentration and limiting diversity of voices.

Government intervention through antitrust laws, regulations, and competition policies is crucial to address the market failures arising from monopoly firms. By promoting competition, governments can encourage innovation, ensure efficient resource allocation, protect consumer welfare, and foster a more equitable distribution of economic benefits.

Economics Essay 38: Competition and Contestibility

Evaluate the extent to which competition and contestability are desirable in product markets.

Certainly! Let's elaborate on the distinction between competition and contestability in product markets using examples:

1. Competition: Competition drives firms to improve their offerings and strive for market dominance. Here are some examples of the benefits of competition:

   a) Efficiency: In the smartphone market, intense competition between companies like Apple, Samsung, and Google's Android partners has led to significant advancements in features, performance, and design. Each company strives to outperform others by enhancing their products' efficiency and functionality.

   b) Innovation: The competition between ride-sharing companies Uber and Lyft has spurred innovation in the transportation industry. These companies continuously introduce new features, such as shared rides, electric vehicles, and self-driving technology, to attract customers and gain a competitive edge.

   c) Consumer Benefits: The rivalry between airlines like Southwest, Delta, and United has resulted in more affordable airfares, improved services, and expanded route networks. Consumers can choose from a variety of options, enabling them to find flights that suit their preferences and budgets.

2. Contestability: Contestability focuses on the ease with which new firms can enter and compete in a market, regardless of the incumbents' power. Here are examples that illustrate the advantages of contestability:

   a) Dynamic Efficiency: The smartphone app market, dominated by Apple's App Store and Google's Play Store, remains highly contestable due to the ease with which developers can create and distribute apps. This contestability drives ongoing innovation, as developers strive to create popular and profitable applications, which benefits consumers.

   b) Discouraging Monopoly Power: The entrance of new players like Beyond Meat and Impossible Foods in the plant-based meat industry has disrupted the market previously dominated by traditional meat producers. The contestability of this market has prevented the establishment of monopolistic practices, fostering competition and offering consumers alternative choices.

   c) Lowering Barriers to Entry: The emergence of digital streaming platforms like Netflix, Amazon Prime Video, and Disney+ has increased contestability in the entertainment industry. These platforms, with their low distribution barriers and direct-to-consumer models, have challenged traditional cable and broadcast networks, leading to greater competition and more options for consumers.

By examining these examples, it becomes clear that competition and contestability are interrelated but distinct concepts. Competition among established firms drives efficiency, innovation, and consumer benefits, while contestability ensures ongoing market dynamics, prevents monopoly power, and lowers barriers to entry, encouraging new firms to enter and compete. Together, they create an environment that fosters continuous improvement, choice, and value for consumers.

Subramanian Swamy uses data to analyse India's Economic plight

 

Britain out of the EU: a treasure island for rentiers

There’s no sign that ministers will use the twin shocks of the pandemic and Brexit to fix a broken system that is failing too many people opine the editors of The Guardian

‘Culturally, Brexit plays the same sort of role as the right to buy, insulating poorer leave voters from the idea that they will suffer from the resulting policies.’ Photograph: Christopher Furlong/Getty Images
 

When the UK entered the coronavirus age in March, state resources and collective commitment were mobilised on a scale not seen since the second world war. Decades ago, Britain had revealed itself, thanks in part to being able to marshal the industrial might of the empire, to be a formidable world power. Its economy was energised with breakthroughs in radar, atomic power and medicine.

Although the story of the pandemic has not yet ended, there appears to be no such transformation in sight under Boris Johnson. Rather depressingly, familiar trends of greed, incompetence and cronyism are reasserting themselves. This is bad news for an economy where there has been a collapse of socially useful innovation. Britain’s lack of hi-tech manufacturing capabilities, notably in medical diagnostic testing, was cruelly exposed by the pandemic.

This country has become more of a procurer than a producer of technology. But it is a remarkably inefficient one – despite an extraordinarily high percentage of lawyers and accountants in the working population. Connections seem to matter more than inventions. How else to explain why, in the desperate scramble to procure personal protective equipment, ventilators and coronavirus tests, billions of pounds of contracts have gone to companies either run by friends or supporters – even neighbours – of Conservative politicians, or with no prior expertise.

History is not short of examples where political insiders were successful in extracting virtually all the surplus that the economy created. Such influential interests moulded politics to enlarge their share of the pie. Greed was limited only by the need to let the producers survive. The shock of war, revolution, famine or plague provides an opportunity to fix a broken society. But if, post-pandemic, UK politicians care less about reform than the retention of power, they will fail to restrain the grasping enrichment that undermines democracy itself.

Windfall profits

Perhaps the most penetrating X-ray of this phenomenon today is by Brett Christophers in his book Rentier Capitalism. The academic makes the case that Britain has become a treasure island for those seeking excess profits from state-sanctioned control of natural resources, property, financial assets and intellectual property. Rent, paid by renters to rentiers, is tied to the ownership or control of such assets, made scarce under conditions of limited or no competition.

Mr Christophers says that the first sign of this new order was when Britain struck black gold in the North Sea. He writes that MPs on the public accounts committee noted with incredulity in 1972 that “the first huge areas of the sea were leased to the companies as generously as though Britain were a gullible Sheikhdom”. After that, public assets were sold off cheaply. The private sector ended up controlling lightly regulated monopolies in gas, water and electric supply, and public transport and telecoms. Customers lost out, overpaying for poor service. In a rentier’s paradise, windfall profits abound. Brazenly occupying the lowest moral ground was essential, as the housebuilder Persimmon proved by earning supersized state-backed help-to-buy profits long enough to hand out a £75m bonus to its boss.

The banks, which took this country to the brink of collapse a decade ago, are at the heart of a rentier state. France, Germany, Japan, the US all have banking sectors smaller than the UK. While banks earning rents have flourished, the households paying them – either directly as financial consumers, or indirectly as taxpayers of a debtor state or customers of debtor firms – have floundered.

The anger that such spivvery engenders is diffused politically by making voters complicit in the theft. The sell-off of council homes, says Mr Christophers, was a privatisation that gave many of those perhaps most inclined to kick against Thatcherism a personal stake in the project. Culturally, Brexit plays the same sort of role as the right to buy, insulating poorer leave voters from the idea that they will suffer from the resulting policies.

The prime minister understands that Covid can change Britain, but lacks modernising policies. He extols the virtues of free competition – both for itself and because such freedom, he reasons, will somehow liberate the spirit fluttering within a pre-Brexit Britain caged by coronavirus. He is no doubt betting that the disruption of leaving the EU will be lost in the roar of an economy taking off as an inoculated population returns to offices and shops.

Weakened regulations

The gap between rich and poor in the UK is at least as high today, academics calculate, as it was just before the start of the second world war. This is largely because the British state that once mediated the struggle between labour and capital has been taken over by rentiers. Weakening regulations, reducing the importance of fiscal policy and shredding social protections has corroded liberal democracy in which an increasingly influential wealthy few have been enjoying a free run. Ultimately, rentiers want to increase what the economist Michał Kalecki called the “degree of monopoly” in an economy. This allows them to limit the ability of workers, consumers and regulators to influence the markup of selling prices over costs and to defend the share of wages in output.

The EU says its labour, environment and customer protections are a floor, not a ceiling, and that they can’t be traded away for frictionless market access. If we had stayed in the club, our ability to concentrate profits for monopolists would have been stymied in future trade deals negotiated by Brussels and open to MEPs’ scrutiny. Outside the EU, Mr Johnson can barter away such regulations – without parliamentary oversight – and scrap safeguards in new technology for higher monopoly profits. Karl Marx wrote in The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte in 1852 that “the Tories in England long fancied that they were in raptures about royalty, the church and the beauties of the ancient constitution, until a time of trial tore from them the confession that they were only in raptures about rent”. His assessment of early 19th-century Tories applies with unerring accuracy to today’s Conservatives.

Mr Christophers’ insight is that the Tories under Mr Johnson are a party of – and for – rentiers, much more than the interests of productive capital. This explains why, after 2016, the Tory party embraced Brexit and shrugged off productive capital’s concerns about leaving the EU. It will be to the great detriment of this country if the pandemic permitted Mr Johnson to combine present-day fears with a yearning for hopeful change to persuade the average person to vote against their interests in the future. But history often repeats itself first as tragedy, then as farce.

In economics the majority is always wrong

 It is time for US business and government to embrace Galbraith’s pragmatic approach writes  Rana Foroohar in The FT

Economists’ reputations, like skirt lengths, go in and out of fashion. In the past 10 years, John Maynard Keynes has received fresh appreciation, and Hyman Minsky has been having a moment. 

I think it’s time for John Kenneth Galbraith to have his. The late liberal economist’s “concept of countervailing power”, put forth in his 1952 book American Capitalism, is a critique of the “market knows best” view that has dominated the US political economy since the era of Ronald Reagan. There could not be a better time to re-read it. 

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Despite the much discussed rise of millennial “socialists” (to my mind they are not, really), Americans still fundamentally accept the idea that the private sector always allocates resources more efficiently than the public sector. It is a truism that dies hard, even amid what feels like a drumbeat of boardroom scandal, an explosion in unproductive corporate debt, and an inverted yield curve for Treasuries that suggests investors fear a recession is coming. 

Policymakers across the political spectrum agree on what we need to create real and lasting growth — decent infrastructure, a 21st-century education system, healthcare reform. 

Yet these are things that the private market has little incentive to address. Building roads and running schools and hospitals (at least the non-profit kind) simply isn’t as lucrative as throwing up luxury condos or engaging in financial speculation. 

As Galbraith would have agreed, private markets also are not well set up to address the broad economic and social externalities of climate change or the effects of income inequality. 

One obvious example is that burgeoning student debt has become a headwind to overall economic growth. Market prices cannot capture the full costs of these problems. 

Galbraith also would have argued that corporations can be just as bureaucratic and dysfunctional — if not more so — than government. His 1967 book The New Industrial State explored how large companies are driven more by their need to survive as organisational entities than by supply and demand signals. 

He predicted that innovation and entrepreneurial zeal would decline as such organisations rose. That is exactly what happened as our economy became dominated by superstar companies. 

Look at any number of troubled behemoths — from GE to Kraft Heinz to Boeing — and it is hard not see exactly what Galbraith predicted. In an endless search for profits, many companies simply move money around on their balance sheets, creating a short-term financial sugar high without real innovation. 

We live in a world in which markets cannot handle even a tiny rise in interest rates without plunging, and when the savings from tax cuts went not into new capital investment but share buybacks, which were also fuelled by debt issued at those very same low rates. Can anyone really argue that the private markets are allocating resources efficiently? 

I am not saying that we need centralised planning. Galbraith once put it well: “I react pragmatically. Where the market works, I’m for that. Where the government is necessary, I’m for that. I’m deeply suspicious of somebody who says, ‘I’m in favour of privatisation,’ or ‘I’m deeply in favour of public ownership’. I’m in favour of whatever works in the particular case.” 

Politicians and policymakers on both sides of the aisle should sear these words on their brains. Americans don’t really do nuance. We like strong, simple statements, such as Reagan’s observation that: “The government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem.” 

But the “private good, public bad” argument simply isn’t true. How else can we explain the rise of China? It has not only shown that government planning and economic competitiveness cannot only go hand in hand, but that in the current era of tech-based disruption and inequality, public sector support may be necessary for the private sector to thrive. 

It is time for political conservatives, economic neoliberals, and chief executives to embrace this. I find it endlessly frustrating to hear so many American corporate leaders complain that government cannot get anything done, even as they pay expensive accountants to keep as much wealth as possible out of state tax coffers. 

It is time to admit that endless tax cuts have not put more money into the real economy, despite frequent, incorrect claims from businesses that they would create lasting above-trend growth. Rather, they have led to pitted highways and hazardous bridges that rival those one might find in any number of far poorer countries. The US ranks 31st out of 70 countries on the OECD’s Pisa test for mathematics, science and reading. 

Let us try something new. Let us stop assuming that markets always know best. Let us pay our taxes, modernise our social safety nets, regulate markets properly, enforce antitrust to protect the overall economic ecosystem and not just the largest businesses, and reinvent our social compact. 

This is not socialism. It is smarter capitalism. The majority may not yet believe that. But as Galbraith is often quoted as saying: “In economics, the majority is always wrong.”

Back from the enemy country

Pervez Hoodbhoy in The Dawn

RARELY are Pakistanis allowed to cross their eastern border. We are told that’s so because on the other side is the enemy. Visa restrictions ensure that only the slightest trickle of people flows in either direction. Hence ordinary academics like me rarely get to interact with their Indian counterparts. But an invitation to speak at the Hyderabad Literary Festival, and the fortuitous grant of a four-city non-police reporting visa, led to my 11-day 12-lecture marathon at Indian universities, colleges, and various public places. This unusual situation leads me here to share sundry observations.

At first blush, it seemed I hadn’t travelled far at all. My first public colloquium was delivered in Urdu at the Maulana Azad National Urdu University (MANUU) in Hyderabad. With most females in burqa, and most young men bearing beards, MANUU is more conservative in appearance than any Urdu university (there are several) on the Pakistani side.

Established in 1998, it seeks to “promote and develop the Urdu language and to impart education and training in vocational and technical subjects”. Relative to its Pakistani counterparts, it is better endowed in terms of land, infrastructure and resources.

But there’s a still bigger difference: this university’s students are largely graduates of Indian madressahs while almost all university students in Pakistan come from secular schools. Thus, MANUU’s development of video “bridge courses” in Urdu must be considered as a significant effort to teach English and certain marketable skills to those with only religious training. I am not aware of any comparable programme in Pakistan. Shouldn’t we over here be asking how the surging output of Pakistani madressahs is to be handled? Why have we abandoned efforts to help those for whom secular schooling was never a choice? 

To my embarrassment, I was unable to fulfil my host’s request to recommend good introductory textbooks in Urdu from Pakistan. But how could I? Such books don’t exist and probably never will. Although I give science lectures as often in Urdu as English, the books I use are only in English. Somehow Pakistan never summoned the necessary vigour for transplanting modern ideas into Urdu. The impetus for this has been lost forever. Urdu, as the language of Islam in undivided India, once had enormous political significance. Education in Urdu was demanded by the Muslim League as a reason for wanting Pakistan!

A little down the road lies a different world. At the Indian Institute of Information Technology (IIIT) the best and brightest of India’s young, selected after cut-throat competition, are engaged in a furious race to the top. IIIT-H boasts that its fresh graduates have recently been snapped up with fantastic Rs1.5 crore (Indian) salaries by corporate entities such as Google and Facebook.

This face of modern India is equally visible at the various Indian Institutes of Technology (IIT), whose numbers have exploded from four to 18. They are the showpieces of Indian higher education. I spoke at three — Bombay, Gandhinagar, and Delhi — and was not disappointed. But some Indian academics feel otherwise.

Engineering education at the IITs, says Prof Raghubir Sahran of IIT-GN, has remained “mainly mimetic of foreign models (like MIT) and captive to the demands of the market and corporate agendas”. My physicist friend, Prof Deshdeep Sahdev, agrees. He left IIT-K to start his own company that now competes with Hewlett Packard in making tunnelling electron microscopes and says IIT students are strongly drill-oriented, not innovative.

Still, even if the IITs are not top class, they are certainly good. Why has Pakistan failed in making its own version of the IITs? One essential condition is openness to the world of ideas. This mandates the physical presence of foreign visitors.

Indeed, on Indian campuses one sees a large number of foreigners — American, European, Japanese, and Chinese.

They come for short visits as well as long stays, enriching universities and research centres.

Not so in Pakistan where foreigners are a rarity, to be regarded with suspicion. For example, at the National Centre for Physics, which is nominally a part of Quaid-i-Azam University but is actually ‘owned’ by the Strategic Plans Division (the custodian of Pakistan’s nuclear weapons), academic visitors are so tightly restricted that they seek to flee their jails soon after arrival.

Those who came from Canada, Turkey and Iran to a recent conference at the NCP protested in writing and privately told us that they would never want to come back.

Tensions between secular and religious forces appear high in Modi’s India. Although an outsider cannot accurately judge the extent, I saw sparks fly when Nayantara Sahgal, the celebrated novelist who was the first of 35 Indian intellectuals to hand back their government awards, shared the stage with the governor of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana. After she spoke on the threats to writers, the murder of three Indian rationalists, and the lynching of a Muslim man falsely accused of possessing beef, the enraged governor threw aside his prepared speech and excoriated her for siding with terrorists.

Hindutva ideology has put the ‘scientific temper’ of Nehruvian times under visible stress. My presentations on science and rationality sometimes resulted in a number of polite, but obviously unfriendly, comments from the audience.

Legitimate cultural pride over path-breaking achievements of ancient Hindu scholars is being seamlessly mixed with pseudoscience. Shockingly, an invited paper at the recent Indian Science Congress claimed that Lord Shiva was the world’s greatest environmentalist. Another delegate blew on a ‘conch’ shell for a full two minutes because it would exercise the rectal muscles of Congress delegates!

Pakistan and India may be moving along divergent paths of development but their commonalities are becoming more accentuated as well. Engaging with the other is vital — and certainly possible.

Although I sometimes took unpopular political positions at no point did I, as a Pakistani, experience hostility. The mature response of both governments to the Pathankot attack gives hope that Pakistan and India might yet learn to live with each other as normal neighbours. This in spite of the awful reality that terrorism is here to stay.

‘Quarterly capitalism’ is short-term, myopic, greedy and dysfunctional

Will Hutton in The Guardian


It has been obvious for years that British capitalism is profoundly dysfunctional. In 1970, £10 of every £100 of profit was distributed to shareholders: today, under intense pressure from short-term owners, companies pay out £70. Investment, innovation and productivity have slumped. Few new companies grow to any significant size before they are taken over.

Exports have stagnated. The current account deficit is at record proportions. The purpose of companies now is not to do great things, solve great problems or scale up great solutions –why capitalism is potentially the best economic system – it is to become payolas for their disengaged owners and pawns in the next big deal or takeover. Not only the British economy suffers – this process has become the major driver of rising inequality, low pay and insecurity in the workplace as management teams are forced to treat workers as costly commodities rather than allies in business building.
Regular readers of this column will be familiar with the refrain, and the stubborn resistance from the British mainstream. There is absolutely nothing wrong at all with the British private sector, runs the Conservative argument: to the extent the British economy does have problems they are rooted entirely in taxation, regulation, unions and government. But in a week when the Financial Times – a great British asset and embodiment of the best of our journalism – has been sold to Nikkei for no better reason than to support Pearson’s short-term share price, powerful and public criticism of the way British capitalism operates has come from an unexpected quarter.

Last year, the governor of the Bank of England, Mark Carney, called on firms to have a greater “sense of their responsibilities for the system”, in particular the social contract on which market capitalism’s long-term dynamism depends. On Friday’s Newsnight, the chief economist of the Bank of England, Andy Haldane, built on the governor’s concerns. He began with the seven-fold increase in the proportion of profit distributed to shareholders in dividends and bought-back shares over the last 45 years, which he said necessarily “leaves less for investment”. The explanation was simple: British (and indeed American) company law “puts the shareholder at front and centre. It puts the short-term interest of shareholders in a position of primacy when it comes to running the firm.” He thought company law that placed shareholders on a more equal footing with other stakeholders – workers, customers, clients – would work better. Dare I say it – stakeholder capitalism?

He damned the way the public limited company has developed. “The public limited company model has served the world well from a growth perspective. But you can always have too much of a good thing. The nature of shareholding today is fundamentally different than what it was a generation ago. The average share was held by the average shareholder, just after the war, for around six years. Today, that average share is held by the average shareholder for less than six months. Of course, many shareholders these days are holding shares for less than a second.”

In New York, at almost exactly the same time Newsnight was transmitting its interview with Andrew Haldane, Hillary Clinton was speaking from the same script, attacking what she called “quarterly capitalism”. “American business needs to break free from the tyranny of today’s earning report so they can do what they do best: innovate, invest and build tomorrow’s prosperity,” the Democratic presidential front runner declared. “It’s time to start measuring value in terms of years – or the next decade – not just next quarter.” She does not want to reinvent the public limited company, but she proposed the most far-reaching tax reforms of any Democrat presidential nominee to change the incentives for shareholders and executives alike. In American terms this is a revolution.

It is long overdue and the argument is beginning to get traction in the US. Free-market apologists insist that the more cash is handed back to shareholders, then the more they have to invest in innovation. The stock market is doing its job: promoting efficiency. The trouble is that everyone can see it’s 100% wrong. The market is hopelessly inefficient, greedy and myopic. When Larry Page and Sergey Brin floated Google, they took care to insulate the company from “quarterly capitalism”: they accorded their shares as Google’s founders 10 times the voting rights in order to protect their capacity to innovate from the stock market – what they considered Google’s real business purpose.

From robots to self-driving cars, from virtual reality glasses to investigating artificial intelligence, Google is now one of the most innovative firms on Earth. Meanwhile the typical US Plc, like its counterpart in Britain, is hunkering down, investing and innovating ever less and distributing more cash to shareholders for the reasons Haldane explains. Far from market efficiency, the whole system is undermining the legitimacy of capitalism.

But bit by bit influential voices such as Haldane’s are having the nerve to declare the Anglo-American system does not work. A rich collection of reflections and commentary edited by Diane Carney (Mark Carney’s wife) was published after London’s Inclusive Capitalism conference last month. Yet, except for former business secretary Vince Cable, no leading British politician has entered the lists. It will be intriguing how George Osborne reacts: one instinct will be to sack Carney and Haldane, as he has done Martin Wheatley, the head of the Financial Conduct Authority, for being too tough on the City. Another will be to co-opt the argument for the one nation Tory cause before the Labour party does.

He needn’t worry too much. One of the reasons that Tony Blair dropped his advocacy for stakeholder capitalism back in 1996 after the publication of The State We’re In was because too many leftwing Labour MPs took the Jeremy Corbyn line that the party’s mission was to socialise capitalism rather than reform it, while too many rightwing Labour MPs such as Peter Mandelson and Alistair Darling were terrified of upsetting business, as today, it seems, is Liz Kendall. He had zero internal political support, business was distrustful and the Tories were accusing him of returning to 1970s corporatism. Today the Bank of England and the likely next US president are supporters. Will one of the contenders for the Labour leadership have the courage to make the case? So far, they have all been mute. If Andy Haldane has done nothing else, he will have dramatised the poverty of today’s thinking about capitalism – in both main political parties.

Defending India’s patent law

Prabha Sridevan in The Hindu

No one can attack India’s well-founded Intellectual Property regime as being weak merely because a drug that is claimed to be an invention fails the test of law

India and its intellectual property (IP) laws have been the subject of sharp criticism recently. Now, there is talk of the government invoking emergency provisions with regard to Dasatinib, a cancer drug. The decibel level may go up several notches.

Let us look at our law. The sovereignty of a country includes its power to make laws. Any person who pursues commercial interests in another country must submit himself/herself to the laws of the country. No one can attack our regime as being weak only because his/her invention did not stand up to the test of our legislation. Nor can India be accused of robbing Peter to pay Paul. It sounds romantic, but it is still robbery.

The Novartis case and the Nexavar case of compulsory licence (CL) are what have impelled this attack. Innovation and invention have speeded up in myriad ways in the last few decades and our country had committed itself to the obligations under the Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights. Therefore, it was necessary for India to revisit its patent law; in 2005, the Indian Patents Act was amended, Section 3(d) being one of the amendments. It was the basis of the Novartis case.

TRIPS recognises that members have the right to use/adopt measures to protect public health so long as they are consistent with TRIPS. A recent study notes: “Policy makers in developing and developed countries need to base their implementation of intellectual policy rules on these pro-public health and pro-access principles.” The Doha Declaration is an affirmation of the right to use the flexibilities in TRIPS, especially by developing and less developed countries, regarding access to medicine. The language of the Doha Declaration emphasises the importance of implementing and interpreting the TRIPS Agreement in a way that supports public health.

“The TRIPS agreement does not limit the grounds on which compulsory licences can be granted, and does not prevent patent applicants from having to demonstrate enhanced efficacy for their allegedly new and useful inventions. There are many problems affecting access to and rational use of medicines in India but the provisions within the country’s patent laws, if more extensively and properly applied, should help rather than hinder such access. India’s laws and experiences could provide a useful example for low-income and middle-income countries worldwide.”

About patentability, not price

In Novartis, the Supreme Court said that while harmonising the patent law in the country with the provisions of the TRIPS Agreement, India had attempted to balance its obligations under the international treaty and its commitment to protect and promote the public health considerations of people in the country and elsewhere. The ‘thorn in the flesh’ Section 3(d) had been challenged by Novartis before the Madras High Court earlier. But the court upheld its constitutionality and rejected the attack on the grounds of vagueness and arbitrariness. Novartis did not file an appeal against that judgment. Novartis claimed a patent for Gleevec, a cancer drug which was refused. Novartis then appealed to the Supreme Court.

The intellectual property of the inventor lies in the invention which is claimed to be novel, inventive and patentable. The patent is a creature of law by which the state bars public access to that invention for a fixed period. The economic reward from the invention is earned during this time after which it goes to the public domain. Section 3(d) is a test of patentability. With reference to Gleevec, it is enough to know that 3(d) inter alia says that in the absence of evidence of enhancement of known efficacy, the mere discovery of a new form of a new substance is not an invention deserving the grant of patent. Imatinib Mesylate was the known substance and Novartis claimed a patent for its (the substance) beta-crystalline form.

The Supreme Court asked: “Now, when all the pharmacological properties of beta crystalline form of Imatinib Mesylate are equally possessed by Imatinib in free base form or its salt, where is the question of the subject product having any enhanced efficacy over the known substance of which it is a new form?” If an invention fails the 3(d) test, it means there was no inventive step. There was no intellectual property in the alleged invention, and nothing that could be stolen. Our lawmakers meant to check any attempt at repetitive patenting or extension of the patent term on spurious grounds, and blocked attempts to keep an invention “evergreen.” If those who attack the Indian patent regime claim that a minor tweaking of chemicals is a giant step forward for an invention, then our legislators begged to differ. The Supreme Court said that it was not ruling that all incremental innovations were non-patentable and that every case would be examined. Our law says that new forms of known substances which do not have enhanced efficacy are in effect advances without real innovation. Therefore, Section 3(d) is actually a catalyst for genuine inventions.

The Supreme Court said that Novartis had attempted to get a patent for a drug which would otherwise not be permissible under our law. Filtering doubtful patents is the strength of our law and not its weakness. The Novartis judgment was not about price but about patentability.

Let us look at the compulsory licence (CL) case, i.e. Bayer vs. NATCO. The mechanism of CL is essentially about balancing patent rights with access to medicine. The words “social and economic welfare,” “public health,” “national emergency” and “public health problems/crises” used in the Act are all pointers to the CL provisions being centred around access to medicine.

A CL is granted subject to three conditions; one of them is about price. The reasonable requirement of the public with regard to the invention should be satisfied. The price at which it is made available should be reasonably affordable. It should be worked in India. A CL may be granted if the answer is a “no” to any of the three conditions. The interpretation of the word “working” by the Controller-General was criticised. It is incorrectly projected that the CL was granted on this score alone. Bayer failed in the other two tests. As far as working is concerned, the question is this: should the inventor manufacture the invention locally or is it sufficient to import it? The Controller held that “working” meant local manufacture to a reasonable extent. The Intellectual Property Appellate Board (IPAB) said that “working” could in some cases mean local manufacture entirely, while in others, only importation, and that it would depend on the facts and evidence of each case. “Working” is not defined in the Act. This issue will be settled by the superior courts on review. The power of review by the superior courts is sufficient to show that our law provides for safeguards.

Compulsory licence

Even in the U.S., it is believed that CL would be a beneficial addition to its patent system, would not significantly impact the incentives for innovations, and that, “a compulsory licensing provision would ensure that the American public is adequately supplied with a product. If the patentee is unable to produce enough supply to meet the demand for the product, another producer should be able to license the product to meet the demand.” This is precisely what our law says!

In all these years, there has been only one instance of the grant of compulsory licence. In fact it was refused recently for Dasatinib, the drug that is now in the news. And Section 3(d) has been invoked by our patent office only rarely. If Gleevec was refused a patent, it is only because it failed the test of Indian law. Refusal is not an act of robbery, for it means there was no invention and hence no property in the first place. There is really no case made out for there being a weakness in Indian law. The pharmaceutical industry’s anxiety behind the clamour against Indian law cannot be on account of any inherent weakness in our law, but only because other countries will follow it.

(Prabha Sridevan is a former judge, Madras High Court.)

Let's rethink the idea of the state: it must be a catalyst for big, bold ideas

As George Osborne envisages a smaller state, economist Mariana Mazzucato argues instead that a programme of forward-thinking public spending is crucial for a creative, prosperous society. We must stop seeing the state as a malign influence or a waste of taxpayers' money

• 
• • Mariana Mazzucato
  • The Observer, Sunday 15 December 2013

Bright spark: a government that ‘thinks big and makes things happen’ will also serrve as a catalyst to the private sector. Photograph: David Burton /Alamy

In his epic book, The End of Laissez-Faire (1926), John Maynard Keynes wrote a sentence that should be the guiding light for politicians around the globe. "The important thing for government is not to do things which individuals are doing already, and to do them a little better or a little worse; but to do those things which at present are not done at all."

In other words, the point of public policy is to make big things happen that would not have happened anyway. To do this, big budgets are not enough: big thinking and big brains are key.

While economists usually talk about things that are not done at all (or done inadequately) by the private sector as "public goods", investments in "big" public goods like the UK national health service, or the investments that led to new technologies behind putting a "man on the moon", required even more than fixing the "public good" problem. They required the willingness and ability to dream up big "missions". The current narrative we are being sold about the state as a "meddler" in capitalism is putting not only these missions under threat, but even more narrowly defined public goods.

Public goods are goods whose benefits are spread so widely that it is hard for business to profit from them (or stop others profiting from them). So they don't attract private investment. Examples include transport infrastructure, healthcare, research and education.

Even if you're an avid free-marketeer you can't avoid benefiting, directly and indirectly, from such public investments. You gain directly through the roads you drive down, the rules and policing which ensure their safety, the BBC radio you listen to, schools and universities that train the doctors and pilots you depend on, parks, theatre, films and museums that nurture our national identity. You also gain, indirectly, through enormous public subsidies without which private schools, hospitals and utility providers would never be able to deliver affordably and still make a profit. These are conferred as tax breaks, and provision of vital skills and infrastructure at state expense.

While social welfare is relentlessly trimmed and targeted, corporate welfare grows inexorably, as business widens its relief from the taxes that fund public infrastructure (while tax credits top-up its less generous wage packets). And the non-appropriable benefits of knowledge – costly to produce, cheap to acquire and use once published – spread the influence of public goods much wider. Nuclear fusion, fuel cells, asset-pricing formulas and genome maps are discoveries for all, not just one company. But it now seems like the doubters, those who contest the idea of "public goods", have won the contest. The state's provision of many of these goods – notably transport, education, housing and healthcare – is being privatised or outsourced at an increasing rate. Indeed privatisation and outsourcing are happening at such a rapid pace in the UK they are practically being given away – as the sale of Royal Mail at rock bottom prices revealed recently – denying the state a return for its near-century long investment.

Yet because we are told the state is simply a "spender" and meddling "regulator", and not a key investor in valuable goods and services, it is easier to deny the state a return from its investment: risk is socialised, rewards privatised. This not only eliminates any return on public investment but also destroys institutions that have taken decades to build up, and rapidly erodes any idea of public service distinct from private profit.

When public goods are privatised they lose their "public good" nature: it does become possible to profit from distributing mail, running trains, renting out homes and providing education. We're continually promised that, due to efficiency gains and innovations prompted by the profit motive, public goods can be delivered more cheaply and effectively by the private sector. All this while still giving their providers a decent profit, so that more is invested.

Has privatisation of UK rail provided lower prices, more innovation and investment? Has contracting-out prison security to G4S made that system more efficient and high quality? Have outsourced NHS services provided the taxpayer with higher quality healthcare that's still free of charge and assigned on merit? Users' impressions and regulators' performance indicators give at best a mixed signal on service quality. Private firms' commercial confidentiality – often a stark contrast with the right-to-know approach to public enterprise – makes it hard to identify or measure any changes in efficiency.

So the state is robbed of its deserved returns of investment, and public services are worsening – but is the state at least relieved of the associated costs and financial burden? No. What's very clear is that while private profits are now being made, public subsidy has not disappeared. The UK government explicitly subsidises its "privatised" utilities, with net transfers amounting to (among others) more than £2bn annually for train operating companies, and £10bn in investment guarantees alone for new nuclear power station builders (these, ironically, include other countries' state-owned utility firms – willing to advance their capital under the generous long-term price arrangements offered by the government, while their privatised UK counterparts like Centrica dismiss these as too risky and return their cash to shareholders).

Private companies can receive further implicit subsidies through investment guarantees and tax breaks; ad hoc assistance (such as meeting energy firms' decommissioning costs, and taking over pension liabilities to enable privatisation, as with Royal Mail and the remnants of the coal industry); rules that enable the circumvention of corporate taxes that are already below income-tax rates (and falling fast); and the assurance that the state will step back in to repossess (without penalty) any operations the private sector finds too expensive, as with Network Rail and the East Coast train-operating franchise.

But in the US, UK and all across Europe, where it's almost universally argued that today's governments are too big, these subsidies are rarely called into question. The debate focuses on the need for public debt levels to come down. And since taxes are judged to be too high – on the basis of very unclear arguments regarding incentives – debt reduction ends up relying on massive public-spending cuts. Growth will supposedly be stimulated by reducing the size of the public sector though privatisation and outsourcing – alongside the eternally-promised reduction of tax and "red tape", which is seen to be hindering an otherwise dynamic private sector.

Typically, the last UK budget focused on targeted tax reductions which are more fairly termed "tax expenditures", lifting a "burden" from companies that other sectors (mainly public services) will have to absorb. These include a drop in corporation tax to 20% from April 2015 (explicitly designed to undercut the rest of the G20), more reliefs from national insurance, and reductions in regulation – always hailed as reducing cost, despite the financial sector's recent warning on where those short-term savings can later lead.

Is tax too high? In the US, the top marginal income tax rate was close to 90% under Republican president Dwight Eisenhower – widely recognised as reigning over one of the highest growth periods in US history. Today the total US tax bill is the lowest it has ever been. The spending cuts about to hit the US – the infamous "sequester", which will damage institutions ranging from Nasa to social services – would not be needed if the US tax bill (24.8% of GDP) were only four percentage points lower than the OECD average (33.4%), instead of eight points.

Yet tax cuts usually achieve no discernible increase in investment, only a measurable increase in inequality. This is because what actually guides business investment is not the "bottom line" (costs, as affected by tax) but anticipation of where the future big technological and market opportunities are.

In the UK, Pfizer did not move its largest R&D lab in Sandwich, Kent to Boston due to lower tax or regulation but due to the £32bn a year that the US National Institutes of Health (NIH) spends on the bio-medical knowledge base that feeds them. Equally, although it was the National Venture Capital Association that in the mid-1970s negotiated huge reductions in US capital gains tax (from 40% to 20% in just six years), venture capital was actually following the footsteps of strategic public funding. In biotech, it entered the game 15 years after the state did the hard stuff.

And when the UK's Labour government reduced the minimum time for private equity investment to qualify for similar tax breaks from 10 to two years,it made venture capital even more short-termist, increasing golfing time not investing time. For the private sector, opportunities lie not in the creation of major new knowledge and technology but in the returns on investment in "intellectual property" that others have commissioned and not yet commercialised. Profit flows from privately capturing the "external benefits" conferred by public goods, when the public sector continues to underwrite them

The challenge today is to bring back knowledge and expertise into government that can drive the big missions of the future. Yet current de-skilling and de-capacitating government will not allow that. As I discuss in my new book, The Entrepreneurial State:debunking private vs. public sector myths, all the technologies that make the iPhone so smart were indeed pioneered by a well-funded US government: the internet, GPS, touch-screen display, and even the latest Siri voice-activated personal assistant.

All of these came out of agencies that were driven by missions, mainly around security – and funding not only the upstream "public good" research but also applied research and early-stage funding for companies. New missions today should be expanded around problems posed by climate change, ageing, inequality and youth unemployment. But while it's great that Steve Jobs had the genius to put those government technologies into a well-designed gadget, and great, more generally, for entrepreneurs to surf this publicly funded wave, who will fund the next wave with starved public budgets and a financialised and tax-avoiding private sector?

As the late historian Tony Judt used to stress, we should invent and impose a new narrative and new terminology to describe the role of government. The language being used to describe government activity is illuminating. The recent RBS sale was depicted as government retaining the "bad" debt, and selling the "good" debt to the private sector. The contrast could not be starker: bad government, good business – a needless inversion of the public good.

And public investments in long-term areas like R&D are described as government only "de-risking" the private sector, when actually what it is doing is actively and courageously taking on the risk precisely where the private sector – increasingly more concerned with the price of stock options than long-run growth opportunities – is too scared to tread. Once the entrepreneurial and risk-taking role of government is admitted, this should result in a sharing of the rewards – whether through equity of retaining a golden share of the patent rights. By privatising public goods, outsourcing government functions, and the constant state bashing (government as "meddler", at best "de-risker") we are inevitably killing the ability of government to think big and make things happen that otherwise would not have happened. The state starts to lose its capabilities, capacity, knowledge and expertise.

Examples that counter this trend – and language – should be celebrated. When the BBC invested in iPlayer – the world's most innovative platform for online broadcasting – instead of outsourcing it, it went against the grain. It brought brains and knowledge into a public sector institution. When recently the Government Digital Services (GDS) – part of the UK's Cabinet Office – wanted to create its own website, the usual solution was to outsource it to Serco, a private company that has recently won many government contracts (even Obamacare insurance work).

Dissatisfied with the mediocre site that Serco offered, GDS brought in coders and engineers with iPlayer experience, who went on to produce an award-winning websitethat is costing the government a fraction of what Serco was charging. And in so doing also made government smarter – attracting, not haemorrhaging, the knowledge and capabilities required for dreaming up the missions of the future.

To foster growth we must not downsize the state but rethink it. That means developing, not axing, competences and dynamism in the public sector. When evaluating its performance, we must rediscover the point of the public sector: to make things happen that would not have happened anyway.

When the BBC is accused of "crowding out" private broadcasters, the difference in quality of the programmes is considered a subjective issue not worthy of economic analysis. Yet it is only by observing and measuring that difference that we can accurately judge its performance. The same is true for the ability of public sector institutions not only to subsidise pharmaceutical companies but actually to transform the technological and market landscape on which they operate.

The public sector must produce public goods, and through the creation of new missions catalyse investment by the private sector – inspiring and supporting it to enter in high-risk areas it would not normally approach. To do so it requires the ability to attract top expertise – to "pick" broadly defined directions, as IT and internet were picked in the past, and "green" should be picked in the future. Some investments will win, some will fail. Indeed, Obama's recent $500m guaranteed loan to a solar company Solyndra failed, while the same investment in Tesla's electric motor won big time – making Elon Muskricher.

But as long as we admit the state is a risk-taking courageous investor in the areas the private sector avoids, it should increase its courage by earning back a reward for such successes, which can fund not only the (inevitable) losses but also the next round of investments. Instead, calling it names for the losses, ignoring the wins, and outsourcing the competence and capabilities, is ridding it of the courage, ability and brains to create the missions, hence opportunities, of the future. And without brains, all government will be able to do is not make big things happen but simply serve a private sector that is concerned only with serving itself.