Tag Archive for: Coronavirus

Why it’s not easy to estimate the economic effects of coronavirus

The US and Australian share markets were touching record highs until 21 February, when they woke up to the possibility that the novel coronavirus—which had by that stage infected 78,000 people and killed nearly 2,400—would have a global economic impact.

The immediate trigger for the market taking fright was the report of outbreaks in South Korea, Japan, Italy and Iran, which led to concern that the virus wasn’t confined to China’s central province of Hubei but was becoming a global pandemic.

But just as the course of the virus is uncertain, so too is its likely economic impact; predictions vary wildly and it’s difficult to trace the effects of previous epidemics.

In its interim economic assessment released on 2 March, the OECD forecast that global economic growth will be just 2.4% this year, down from 2.9% in 2019. This represents lost output of around US$425 billion.

The OECD says the projected drop reflects the impact of the virus on confidence, financial markets, the travel industry and business supply chains.

Modelling by Australian National University economists Warwick McKibbin and Roshen Fernando comes up with much larger numbers, showing a pandemic would lead to a loss of global production of anywhere from US$2 trillion to US$9 trillion, depending on how many are infected and killed by the virus. Their modelling assumes a pandemic results in the death of at least 15,000 people and possibly as many as 68,000.

However, it’s been hard to identify the economic effects of past global health crises. A study conducted at the height of the AIDS epidemic in the mid-1990s found it was impossible to detect a statistically significant effect on per capita income in the African economies where it hit hardest.

Moreover, the study by one of the world’s leading experts in the economics of demography, Harvard’s David Bloom, along with Melbourne University’s health economist, Ajay Mahal, found that neither the bubonic plague in the 14th century nor the Spanish flu of 1918–1920 was associated with any measurable fall in incomes or output.

In the case of AIDS, they suggest that the African countries most affected already had high unemployment, so labour shortages didn’t emerge, despite the high impact on working-age men.   Higher income and more productive workers were more likely to take preventive measures and avoid the disease, with the burden falling most heavily upon the poor. The greatest responsibility for healthcare was taken on by community-based organisations and family networks, which provided services more efficiently than the formal health system.

About 75 million people are estimated to have been infected with HIV since the start of the epidemic in the early 1980s, and 32 million have died.

In the case of the bubonic plague, which spread in several waves through Western Europe between 1348 and 1374 killing around a quarter of the population, the researchers were able to track the wages of unskilled British labourers working on the estates of the bishops of Winchester between 1310 and 1449, using a measure of inflation calculated with reference to the historical price of wheat. They could see the effect of the plague on population measurements, but there was no statistically significant effect on real wages.

The Spanish flu epidemic had its greatest impact in India, claiming an estimated 20 million lives or 6.2% of the country’s population. The study compared the acreage sown to crops in the provinces that were worst hit with those with lower mortality rates and found there was no measurable difference in output per person.

A more recent study done for the World Health Organization by two leading health economists,  Victoria Fan and Dean Jamison, along with former US Treasury secretary Larry Summers, says looking at potential loss in per capita income is the wrong way to measure the impact of an epidemic, because it puts no value at all on the lives that are lost.

‘If, in assessments of investments in pandemic preparedness and mitigation, we neglect this dimension of loss, we will underestimate the value of such investments, relative to alternative uses of public finances’, they say.

Their study used methods borrowed from the life insurance industry to estimate the expected loss from an influenza pandemic that resulted in 720,000 deaths, and came up with an economic impact of US$500 billion.

They noted that their study did not take account of the cost of non-fatal illness or the fear of pandemics, adding that intense media coverage may lead populations to overreact to mild pandemics.

Fear can have a big effect. A later report by Bloom for the International Monetary Fund notes that Liberia’s GDP growth collapsed by 8 percentage points in the wake of the Ebola outbreak in 2013–14, even though the country’s overall death rate fell in that period.

For the moment, it is the mixture of fear of the pandemic and official efforts to slow the spread of coronavirus that are having the biggest impact. Quarantines are making it difficult for workers in China to get to their workplaces, while travel restrictions are throttling the universities. A mix of travel restrictions and public fear has led to plunging tourism turnover.

Yesterday, the US Federal Reserve announced an unscheduled cut in interest rates by 0.5 of a percentage point. The Reserve Bank of Australia also lowered interest rates yesterday, by 0.25 basis points, and there are calls for the government to provide the sort of economic stimulus that helped Australia avoid the worst of the 2008 global financial crisis. However, the reality is that such policy measures have no effect on the supply bottlenecks that are squeezing businesses.

Then there’s the possibility of second-round effects. Economists have been warning for years about excessive Chinese corporate indebtedness, so there are concerns that the drop in turnover might result in a debt crisis. Just last week, news emerged that the Chinese aviation and property development conglomerate HNA Group is in crisis and seeking a government bailout over its US$75 billion debt while electric car maker Nio is trying to secure a US$1.4 billion bailout from a municipal government.

There are similar vulnerabilities in the US leveraged loan and junk bond markets, where debts can keep being rolled over only as long as underlying demand in the economy remains strong.

Coronavirus and the death of Xi’s ‘China Dream’

Globalisation was ill. Coronavirus is killing both it and Xi Jinping’s ‘China Dream’. That’s big news for Australia’s economy and security.

Globalisation led people to believe that companies could build supply chains wherever there was a labour or other cost advantage. The result would be lower prices, higher profits and greater prosperity internationally. It was assumed that companies could manage supply-chain risks.

If that was ever true, it’s not now. Anaemic world economic growth following the global financial crisis undercut globalisation’s glamour. Populism and nationalism, which re-energised protectionist trade policies, damaged it.

Then great-power competition between the US and China piled on, making it obviously not in either country’s national interest to have deeply entangled systems of research and production for their defence items and high technology—whether semiconductors, digital infrastructure or actual weapon systems.

Coronavirus, though, will probably change globalisation more. It adds a new set of risks associated with the concentration of global supply chains in China, and shows the ripple effect across the globe from the paralysis of Chinese manufacturing centres. Now, when China sneezes, the world economy catches a cold: global growth has started falling and critical bottlenecks in the production of many items are being exposed.

US–China strategic competition already had a focus on high-tech products, and the political risks to businesses operating in China had already risen owing to Xi’s increasing authoritarian control.

Coronavirus is a hazard that is thought to have arisen from the sale of exotic live animals in meat markets. But its early spread and movement towards a global pandemic were stoked by the damaging effect the fundamental design of Chinese Communist Party rule had on early identification and containment. The party sees early reporting on a novel virus as rumour-mongering that might reflect poorly on its rule and cause ‘social instability’, so such information must be denied and repressed.

The virus is damaging and dangerous in itself, but so too is this fundamental element of the CCP’s exercise of power. Unfortunately, that means coronavirus is only an early example of what are likely to be rolling events flowing from environmental damage and the level of pollution in China, which have in large part been created by decades of government policy that primed rampant economic growth.

Given the strains from populism, nationalism, US–China strategic competition, and the growing risks from overconcentration of global production in China, a reordering of global supply chains is necessary. That’s good public and corporate policy.

Despite US President Donald Trump’s rhetoric, this reordering is not as simple as ‘onshoring’ of production back to the US. It’s likely to mean more dispersed supply centres in multiple parts of the world that are reasonably stable and reliable, and which, cumulatively, result in a more resilient global economy with fewer single points of failure. That will apply even more to national security research and production, as the risks and vulnerabilities in current global approaches continue to be both noticeable and disturbing.

Such a shift works with the grain of technological change in manufacturing. The ideas behind ‘Industry 4.0’ make small-scale production in multiple dispersed locations not just feasible, but efficient.

What it means for Australia and our economy is quite profound. In one narrow but important way, Australia’s national security and our economy can benefit from the opportunities this reordering opens up.

In this world of growing risks, Australia’s low sovereign risk, political stability, rule of law, educated workforce, developed health system and natural resources make it an attractive place to make capital investments with a reasonable prospect of stable long-term returns. That’s increasingly a rarity internationally, so Australia can be one of the places to which production shifts.

Then there’s the fact that Australia is a US ally and has a government that has taken active steps to secure its economy and its politics from foreign interference and disruption.

Along with that, Australia has critical minerals that are essential to high-tech production chains, and a world-class resource sector with high levels of automation that can be applied to this class of minerals. That’s a strong foundation for supply chains that end up in many high-tech civil and military products, from smartphones to guided missiles.

This isn’t some crazy dream about Australia displacing China as the global production centre. It’s about Australia becoming one of a number of new production centres that mitigate the risks of overcentralisation in China (or in any other single global production centre). And it’s about the death of Xi’s ‘China Dream’, where the rest of the world agrees to China being the single centre of the global economy. It turns out that a Sino-centred world may not be something to wish for or work towards.

Strategic competition between China and the US makes research and production of relevance to national security a good place for Australia to start. That’ll take a new approach to the machinery of the Australia–US alliance that moves from mainly narrow, more traditional security to include economic security. And Australia can also deepen technological partnerships with advanced manufacturing partners like Germany, Japan, South Korea and Taiwan that have the skills and businesses to work with us in this new world.

Our bilateral and multilateral relationships and forums will need to change to make this possible.

A start with the US would be supplementing the annual AUSMIN meeting between US and Australian defence and foreign ministers with a new forum that includes government, corporate and even university leaders. That would enable Australian leaders to make the case to their US counterparts—from Trump down—that it’s in both countries’ national interests for US and Australian firms to set up sites in Australia producing critical defence components, from semiconductors to missile systems. Australian leaders and companies will need to put their money where their mouths are to convince Trump and those who would brief him on the idea.

Finding money is never simple, but the underappreciated fact of our huge superannuation wealth ($2.9 trillion as of last year) means the capital doesn’t all have to come from the treasury or the defence budget—whether in Canberra or Washington. With stable returns from a sensible policy framework and a chunk of demand from Australian and US national security agencies, private investment responding to joint US and Australian government policy can finance much of this shift.

A future in which Australia’s economy becomes one of a number of dispersed, reliable centres for global production—with an early focus on national security research and production that feeds into US and Australian defence forces—is not a bad path to complement Australia’s existing trade in resources and services.

Obviously, Australian policymakers need to stay focused on the absolute priority of managing the heath impact of the virus as it continues to spread internationally. But our leaders need to get beyond simply wishing for an early recovery of the Chinese and global economies from the effects of coronavirus.

It’s time to look ahead to the strategic implications and the opportunities that a changed global economy can bring.

When viruses turn political

Before the coronavirus exploded into the news, a report by the World Health Organization warned that the world was not prepared for ‘a fast-moving, virulent respiratory pathogen pandemic’ that could kill 50–80 million people, cause panic and instability, and seriously affect trade and the global economy. The experience of the last 200-plus years has shown that only governments acting in concert can effectively fight such a pandemic—and even then, only with the trust and compliance of their citizens. This points to three challenges facing political leaders in the fight against the new coronavirus, now known as Covid-19.

The first challenge is that politicians are torn between looking decisive and adopting science-based measures that require careful explanation to a sceptical public. For example, governments in several countries, including India, Japan, Nigeria and the United States, have recently instituted highly visible temperature checks on all passengers arriving at their airports. But feverish travellers can simply mask their condition by using fever-reducing drugs. Furthermore, Chinese researchers suspect that Covid-19 is contagious for up to 24 days before the person carrying it develops a fever. The United Kingdom, therefore, is focusing on informing all arriving passengers about what to do if they experience symptoms after leaving the airport.

More seriously, on 31 January, US President Donald Trump’s administration announced a temporary entry ban on all foreign nationals who had been to China in the past 14 days, unless they were immediate relatives of US citizens or permanent residents. Many other countries, including Australia, have imposed similar measures, but the effect could be exactly the opposite of what was intended.

Closing off China might seem justified. But doing so unilaterally, without building trust with other governments, makes it likelier that other countries—such as China’s smaller neighbours—will not notify the world when the virus spreads to them, owing to fear of being closed off and the massive economic costs this would entail.

The golden rule in fighting pandemics is to encourage affected countries to notify others immediately of any infection. Chinese researchers rapidly identified Covid-19, and—after international urging—shared its viral sequence, spurring global cooperation in the race to create a vaccine. In so doing, China complied with international rules that aim to ensure that countries work together to combat infections, rather than harming themselves or unnecessarily harming others through protectionist measures.

The second challenge for governments relates to communication. Accurate, trusted information is vital in fighting a pandemic. But in most of the world, citizens do not trust politicians to tell the truth, so they turn instead to social media and other sources of information.

Such platforms can facilitate greater transparency and instant reporting, which governments must not quash, as local officials in Wuhan initially did by threatening doctors who reported the new coronavirus. But social media also gives rise to ‘infodemics’ of fake news and rumour that can endanger public health. The WHO currently must refute claims that mouthwashes, nasal sprays and sesame oil can prevent people from being infected with Covid-19. Likewise, online anti-vaccination campaigns in recent years have fuelled an entirely preventable resurgence of measles.

On a positive note, the WHO is working with social media companies to ensure that reliable public information appears first when people search for news about the coronavirus. They also are cooperating in attaching warnings to the posts of groups promoting conspiracy theories and rumours about the virus, and in removing posts that endanger public health. All responsible politicians must support such efforts.

Equally, politicians and social media companies need to combat xenophobic reactions, which pandemics spur all too easily. There are already reports of a wave of discrimination against East Asians since the Covid-19 outbreak. Stigma and discrimination make it harder to combat infectious diseases, because they increase the likelihood that affected people will avoid seeking care.

Crucially, the fight against Covid-19 requires infected people to trust public authorities enough to identify and help to track down everyone with whom they have been in contact, thereby enabling appropriate isolation measures to be put into place. This is less likely in an atmosphere of stigma and discrimination.

Finally, preparedness is key. Governments must commit resources ahead of time and have a ready-to-go command structure in the event of a global public health emergency. But politicians often are loath to invest in disease prevention, finding it much easier to claim credit for a shiny new hospital. More insidiously, they can cut funding for preventive programs in the knowledge that future governments will face the consequences.

The good news is that governments have begun to take pandemic preparedness seriously in the wake of the outbreaks of SARS, H1N1, MERS, Ebola and Zika. Following the Ebola crisis in 2014, for example, US President Barack Obama’s administration established a directorate for global health security and bio-threats within the National Security Council. It also introduced a system for coordinating international, national, state, and local organisations, both public and private, to confront a global epidemic, under the direct authority of the president.

The bad news is that Trump unwound and dismantled these preparations last year. He also cut funding for efforts by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to help other countries prevent infectious-disease epidemics. But when other countries cannot identify and contain a virus, it is more likely to reach the US.

As Covid-19 continues to spread, the public must rely on international cooperation among governments to fight the disease effectively. But mounting pressures on political leaders risk pushing them toward more nationalistic, short-term measures that are less effective or even counterproductive.

Coronavirus response hampered by obfuscation and uncertainty

The outbreak of a new coronavirus, dubbed 2019-nCoV, has shown that we haven’t learned enough from the 2003 SARS epidemic. China continues to struggle with transparency, and, in the absence of data, the international community is implementing a variety of inconsistent policies. Put simply, we can’t be sure whether China is using a sledgehammer to crack a nut, or whether this new coronavirus presents a serious international threat.

The latest official figures from China show almost 500 people have died, almost 25,000 have been infected and more than 900 have recovered. Thousands more are suspected of infection, and the death count for mainland China has now exceeded the toll from SARS. Once it accepted the threat that 2019-nCoV might pose, China marshalled incredible resources at impressive speed and scale—isolating cities, and building a field hospital in less than two weeks.

Cases of 2019-nCoV have been reported in Australia, Asia, Europe and North America—a total of about 150 in two dozen countries. Most are imported—travellers who were infected in China—but Japan, Germany and Taiwan have reported cases of domestic person-to-person transmission. More such cases are inevitable, and deaths will follow.

There are many known unknowns, and not yet enough useful indicators, to properly judge how dangerous this virus is. For example, beyond the elderly and those with pre-existing medical conditions, how many are getting infected and dying? A useful measure of the severity of the virus might be statistics of medical personnel and first responders who have fallen ill and died.

China has been more forthcoming with information on this outbreak than it was with SARS, but the same system that can quarantine millions is still beset with poor information-sharing, systematic cover-ups, and an initial denial about the seriousness of the virus among local officials. As Minxin Pei notes, ‘The survival of the one-party state depends on secrecy, media suppression and constraints on civil liberties.’

A lack of transparency and an information vacuum encourage irrational behaviour. There have been reports of panic-buying of protective masks, rumours of used masks being repacked and resold, fears that carriers could transmit the virus when asymptomatic, and questions about whether one can catch 2019-nCoV from mail packages (for the record, highly unlikely). Fringe conspiracy theorists (and Russian trolls) are pushing a theory that this was a manufactured bioweapon.

The same opacity and oversensitivity from China also undermine the international political response to the virus. In principle, infection control can’t be a bad thing and should be driven by data and risk management. But international responses to 2019-nCoV are inconsistent, ranging from the extremes of ‘nothing to see here’ to a health equivalent of a worst-case ‘one percent doctrine’. Flights have been banned—not just from the Chinese mainland but, in some cases, from Hong Kong and even Taiwan. Quarantine policies have been announced and then revised.

China has railed against many of these responses, pushing allies to take minimal precautions while threatening others with claims for compensation in the wake of travel bans. The World Health Organization was slow to call this a public health emergency of international concern, almost certainly for fear of angering Beijing.

Future epidemics and pandemics are inevitable, and the safer movement and potential quarantine of people in such circumstances needs to be considered beyond a two-week stay on Christmas Island. Airports may need to incorporate designs that allow for much more effective monitoring of passengers than the temporary temperature scans set up during an outbreak. Immigration systems may need to cope with large quarantine groups—for example, to enable the movement of students, athletes, convention delegates or tourists. Ultimately, an improved ability to detect and isolate sick travellers has benefits beyond a coronavirus, to diseases like measles, which are unfortunately increasingly common.

Politically, China and the international community need to work together more openly and transparently to best manage and contain this outbreak. Practically, blanket bans on flights and the movement of people are crudely effective, but they come with political and economic costs. Whether this virus is a serious threat or not, the current posturing and blunt policy responses show we have a long way to go.

Coronavirus is a disease of Chinese autocracy

The outbreak of a new coronavirus that began in the Chinese city of Wuhan has already infected over 4,000 people—mostly in China, but also in several other countries, from Thailand to France to the United States—and killed more than 100. Given China’s history of disease outbreaks—including of severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) and African swine fever—and officials’ apparent awareness of the need to strengthen their capacity to address ‘major risks’, how could this happen?

It should be no surprise that history is repeating itself in China. To maintain its authority, the Chinese Communist Party must keep the public convinced that everything is going according to plan. That means carrying out systematic cover-ups of scandals and deficiencies that may reflect poorly on the CCP’s leadership, instead of doing what is necessary to respond.

This pathological secrecy hobbles the authorities’ capacity to respond quickly to epidemics. The SARS epidemic of 2002–03 could have been contained much sooner had Chinese officials, including the health minister, not deliberately concealed information from the public. Once proper disease control and prevention measures were implemented, SARS was contained within months.

Yet China seems not to have learned its lesson. Although there are important differences between today’s coronavirus epidemic and the SARS outbreak—including far greater technological capacity to monitor disease—they may have the CCP’s habit of cover-ups in common.

At first glance, China’s government has appeared to be more forthcoming about the latest outbreak. But, although the first case was reported on 8 December, the Wuhan municipal health commission didn’t issue an official notice until several weeks later. And, since then, Wuhan officials have downplayed the seriousness of the disease and deliberately sought to suppress news coverage.

That notice maintained that there was no evidence that the new illness could be transmitted between humans and claimed that no healthcare workers had been infected. The commission repeated these claims on 5 January, though 59 cases had been confirmed by then. Even after the first death was reported on 11 January, the commission continued to insist that there was no evidence of human-to-human transmission or of healthcare workers being affected.

Throughout this critical period, there was little news coverage of the outbreak. Chinese censors worked diligently to remove references to the outbreak from the public sphere, which is far easier today than it was during the SARS epidemic, thanks to the government’s dramatically tighter control over the internet, media and civil society. Police have harassed people for ‘spreading rumors’ about the disease.

According to one study, references to the outbreak on WeChat—a popular Chinese messaging, social-media and mobile-payment app—spiked between 30 December and 4 January, around the time when the Wuhan health commission first acknowledged the outbreak. But mentions of the disease subsequently plummeted.

References to the new coronavirus rose slightly on 11 January when the first death was reported, but then quickly disappeared again. It was only after 20 January—following reports of 136 new cases in Wuhan, as well as cases in Beijing and Guangdong—that the government rolled back its censorship efforts. Mentions of coronavirus exploded.

Yet again, the Chinese government’s attempts to protect its image proved costly, because they undermined initial containment efforts. The authorities have since switched gears, and their strategy now appears to show how seriously the government is taking the disease by imposing drastic measures: a blanket travel ban on Wuhan and neighbouring cities in Hubei province, which together have a population of 35 million.

At this point, it’s unclear whether and to what extent these steps are necessary or effective. What is clear is that China’s initial mishandling of the coronavirus outbreak means that thousands will be infected, hundreds may die and the economy, already weakened by debt and the trade war, will take another hit.

But perhaps the most tragic part of this story is that there’s little reason to hope that next time will be different. The survival of the one-party state depends on secrecy, media suppression and constraints on civil liberties. So, even as Chinese President Xi Jinping demands that the government increase its capacity to handle ‘major risks’, China will continue to undermine its own—and the world’s—safety, in order to bolster the CCP’s authority.

When China’s leaders finally declare victory against the current outbreak, they will undoubtedly credit the CCP’s leadership. But the truth is just the opposite: the party is again responsible for this calamity.