By Vera Šćepanović, CEU PhD Candidate, Political Science
Now that the heat of debates over the US auto industry bail-out has somewhat subsided, here are a few belated thoughts in response to the earlier post “What does Varieties of Capitalism have to say about the bailout of the U.S. auto industry?” (by Kristin Makszin). There’s always something suspicious when a theory comes together so smoothly. Indeed, according to the Varieties of Capitalism (VoC) framework, automobile industry should not have existed in the US at all. To the extent the theory relies on sector-specific properties in the division of labour it envisages between coordinated and liberal market economies (skill specificity, pace of innovation, investment time horizons etc.), a mature manufacturing industry does not sit well with a dynamic liberal market environment which ought to support radical innovation, easily transferable workers’ skills and is characterised by a volatile investment environment.
Now, the demise of Detroit looks like a final victory for the theory, especially since the US Big Three seemed to display exactly the characteristics of a firm embedded in a coordinated market environment: close relations with the trade unions, long-term support of the workforce (instead of the supposedly typical adversarial labour relations and flexible fire and hire policies), and little display of radical innovation (e.g. few “greener” cars). And we know from the VoC that complementarities between the national institutional environment and firm operations are the key to success. If the complementarities fail, somebody is bound to suffer. The debate still rages whether it will be the firm or the national institutional environment.
But the question is, why did the Big Three let themselves be tricked into this trap, why did the companies that have been through the thick and thin of the international markets for the last hundred years fail to see what a handful of academics understood so clearly?
(And the Japanese, don’t forget them. The well-justified worries over Detroit seem to have made everybody forget about “the rest” of the US auto industry – 2008 was a bad year for the carmakers all around, but apart from that for all we know the East Asian transplants in the US have all been rather alive and well. Which sort of spoils the possibilities for sectoral generalisations. True, they found a different way to make cars – the one that calls for fewer skilled workers, no unions and more adversarial labour relations. All that means for the VoC framework is that the I-make-machines-you-make-chips division of labour between CMEs and LMEs may have been a tad too rough if usefully illustrative shorthand.)
The answer, I suspect, lies in the incompleteness of the framework, which is essentially that of a production model. There’s one way in which the stubborn clinging of the Big Three to their big expensive cars and big expensive workforce makes sense, and that’s if we conceive of it as a giant, if restricted, Fordist scheme to secure the market. Which only makes sense if we believe that these multinational juggernauts are that dependent on the US market. Surprisingly enough, that really seems to be the case.
(And the Japanese, don’t forget them. The well-justified worries over Detroit seem to have made everybody forget about “the rest” of the US auto industry – 2008 was a bad year for the carmakers all around, but apart from that for all we know the East Asian transplants in the US have all been rather alive and well. Which sort of spoils the possibilities for sectoral generalisations. True, they found a different way to make cars – the one that calls for fewer skilled workers, no unions and more adversarial labour relations. All that means for the VoC framework is that the I-make-machines-you-make-chips division of labour between CMEs and LMEs may have been a tad too rough if usefully illustrative shorthand.)
The answer, I suspect, lies in the incompleteness of the framework, which is essentially that of a production model. There’s one way in which the stubborn clinging of the Big Three to their big expensive cars and big expensive workforce makes sense, and that’s if we conceive of it as a giant, if restricted, Fordist scheme to secure the market. Which only makes sense if we believe that these multinational juggernauts are that dependent on the US market. Surprisingly enough, that really seems to be the case.
Contributions of North American and rest-of-the-world operations to GM’s global net profit, 1960-2007 (compiled from annual reports, based on Bruno Jetin:2004)
In the example of GM, the foreign operations provided a small if positive contribution to its global profits since the 1960s, and when they plunged with the advent of the two oil crises the gains on the national market were more than enough to offset the losses. It was only at the end of this period that GM started to pursue more aggressive expansion in the foreign markets which paid off during the general recession of the early 1990s, but already since the mid-1990s the national (US) operations started to regain primacy, while the international front appeared was on the retreat. Only since 2005 the contraction of the US market and the success of GM’s Chinese operations have been changing the picture a little. Still, in 2007 GM sold 4.5 million cars in the US, which is only a few less than in all of the other countries of the world put together. The situation is very similar with Ford (see the graph below). Simply, the US carmakers have always relied heavily on their home markets, and the strategy has paid off. Then in 2005 something went amiss (probably with the beginning of the oil price hikes) and the three years since have been too little to make a significant turnaround. The question is, what kind of a turnaround should it be?
Contributions of North American and rest-of-the-world operations to Ford’s global net profit, 1960-2007 (compiled from annual reports, based on Bruno Jetin:2004
The VoC and the concerned observers suggest one direction with several routes: get rid of the overpaid workers (which would imply endangering the market potential even further); get rid of the costs of supporting workers’ purchasing power while keeping the market afloat (presumably by somehow transforming the national institutional environment to externalise the costs of provision of healthcare, unemployment benefits and pensions); or innovate and move into new markets (start making green, hybrid etc. cars). The problem with the first two is that they may take time and be socially difficult to execute. The problem with the latter deserves some elaboration.
The financial crisis of 2008 caused an awful drop of the car sales in the US across all market segments. The small car segment suffered the least (only – 1.1%, as compared to the -18% in the industry), but the small car segment in the US market represents only about 15% of the overall sales (as compared to West European market where the market share of the equivalent segment is 27%). The fact that the US manufacturers choose to focus on the bigger, more expensive and less fuel-efficient cars is therefore the function of their dependence on the US market with its peculiar characteristics (which, incidentally, may also have limited their success internationally, given the different preferences in other markets, and has also made them more vulnerable to the downturn which took a greater toll on the large and luxury segments). Forcing the Big Three to rethink their production strategy and start making smaller, fuel-efficient cars or innovate in the direction of hybrid and electric cars in exchange for the bailout will only work if there is a market to sell them. And taking a cue for Toyota’s decision to delay the production of its Prius hybrid in the US indefinitely, one suspects that the times are not propitious.
This is all not to say that the Big Three are not ripe for restructuring or that the humanity is not in a dire need of a cleaner solution for transportation. But the two may not go together as smoothly as we would like to think they should. The Varieties of Capitalism is a story of how every wheel of the system comes together like clockwork, but we just might be seeing them grind each other to halt.
The financial crisis of 2008 caused an awful drop of the car sales in the US across all market segments. The small car segment suffered the least (only – 1.1%, as compared to the -18% in the industry), but the small car segment in the US market represents only about 15% of the overall sales (as compared to West European market where the market share of the equivalent segment is 27%). The fact that the US manufacturers choose to focus on the bigger, more expensive and less fuel-efficient cars is therefore the function of their dependence on the US market with its peculiar characteristics (which, incidentally, may also have limited their success internationally, given the different preferences in other markets, and has also made them more vulnerable to the downturn which took a greater toll on the large and luxury segments). Forcing the Big Three to rethink their production strategy and start making smaller, fuel-efficient cars or innovate in the direction of hybrid and electric cars in exchange for the bailout will only work if there is a market to sell them. And taking a cue for Toyota’s decision to delay the production of its Prius hybrid in the US indefinitely, one suspects that the times are not propitious.
This is all not to say that the Big Three are not ripe for restructuring or that the humanity is not in a dire need of a cleaner solution for transportation. But the two may not go together as smoothly as we would like to think they should. The Varieties of Capitalism is a story of how every wheel of the system comes together like clockwork, but we just might be seeing them grind each other to halt.
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