刘志伟编译
每一场危机都会结束，虽然看起来前景黯淡，当前的金融危机终将过去。然而，没有一种危机能够消逝得无影无踪，不留下任何后遗症。而这一次的遗留，最引人注目的将是全球性的思想战争——哪一种经济模式最可能造福于大多数人。第三世界将会热衷于挑起这场战争，世界80%的人口都居住在亚洲、拉丁美洲和非洲的第三世界国家中，14亿人每天的生活费不足1.25美元。在世界的大多数地方，在资本主义和社会主义之间，或者说资本主义和美国人所标示的社会主义之间，斗争仍然激烈。虽然目前的金融危机没有赢家，但输家众多，其中最大的输家就是美国式的资本主义。今后我们不得不长期面对这一现实。
哪一种经济模式可能造福多数
1989年柏林墙倒塌，成了标志性的事件。一段时间内，共产主义的式微似乎意味着资本主义的胜利，尤其是美国式资本主义的胜利。法兰西斯•福山(Francis Fukuyama)甚至大声宣告“历史的终结”，认为民主的市场资本主义是社会发展的终极阶段。实际上，历史学家会把1989年后的20年标示为美国式繁荣的短暂时期，而随着大型银行和金融机构的崩塌，以及随之发生的经济混乱和慌乱的拯救措施不断出台，这个时代已然结束。于是，对于“市场原教旨主义”——不受约束的市场自己就能够确保经济的繁荣和增长——的争论也就此停住。如今，只有那些中毒至深的人才会坚信市场是自我修正的，或是我们可以依赖市场参与者的自利行为来确保一切都诚实正确地进行。
这场经济争论在发展中国家悄然兴起。西方人试图忘记，190年前，世界三分之一的GDP都是中国拥有的，而突然之间，殖民探索和不公平的贸易协定，伴随着欧洲和美国的科技革命，把发展中国家远远地甩在了后面。到1950年，中国经济占世界GDP的百分比只有不到5%。19世纪中期，英国和法国发动了打开中国贸易大门的战争，这是第二次鸦片战争。之所以得到这样的称谓，是因为除了毒品之外，西方世界没什么特别有价值的东西卖给中国。鸦片大量进入中国市场，间接导致了大范围的毒品上瘾。这是西方企图纠正国际收支问题的一个早期尝试。
殖民主义在发展中国家留下混杂的遗产——一个明显后果就是人们普遍认为他们受到了残酷剥削。马克思主义理论提供了相应解释：剥削是资本主义体系的基石。第二次世界大战后殖民地的独立，并没有结束经济殖民主义的延续。在一些地区，如非洲，剥削是显而易见的：对自然资源的攫取和环境的破坏，只得到了微薄的回报。其他的地方则很隐蔽。在世界的很多地方，世界性机构，如国际货币基金组织和世界银行被当作后殖民时代实施控制的利器。这些机构推动市场原教旨主义(它通常被称为“新自由主义”)，这是美国人为“自由和不受约束的市场”所定义的一个理想化概念。他们敦促金融部门放松管制，进行私有化和贸易自由化。
世界银行和国际货币基金组织说他们所做的一切都是为了发展中国家的利益。一大群鼓吹自由市场经济的经济学家支持它们，他们很多人都来自自由市场经济的圣殿——美国芝加哥大学。而最终，“芝加哥男孩”们的项目并没有带来他们承诺的结果。收入停滞不前，即便有增长，财富只是集中在上层人手中。经济危机在许多国家中日益频繁——过去30年中爆发过100多次严重的经济危机。
美国用不同药方医治自己
发展中国家的人民越来越不相信西方的帮助是出于利他主义。他们怀疑自由市场理论的花言巧语只是用来掩盖以往的商业利益。西方国家的伪善加强了这些怀疑。欧美并没有向第三世界开放其本国的农产品市场，而这往往是所有贫困国家所能提供的唯一商品。他们强迫发展中国家在开始新产业的时候取消农业补贴，而他们自己却提供大量补贴给本国的农场主。
自由市场理念被证明是一种新的剥削形式的伪装。“私有化”意味着外国人可以低价购买发展中国家的矿山和油田。这意味着他们能够获得大量的垄断和准垄断的利润，如电信业。“自由化”意味着，他们能获得高回报率的贷款，而在贷款无法回收时，国际货币基金组织将迫使他们损失社会化，这意味着所有人都要被迫来还债。这还意味着，外国公司能够毁灭新兴产业，抑制企业发展的才能。虽然资本自由流动，劳动力却不会——只有那些最有天赋的个人，才能在全球市场中找到好工作。
自由市场理念的前景，并不总是美妙。在亚洲总有些国家抵制“华盛顿共识”(自由市场理论的简便说法)。他们对资本流动进行限制。亚洲的巨人——中国和印度，有自己的经济管理方式，并且创造了前所未有的增长。但在其他地区，尤其是世界银行和国际货币基金组织插手的国家，事情发展并不顺利。
在第三世界对美国式资本主义的批评中，美国应对当前金融危机的方式成为最后一根压倒骆驼的稻草。10年前的东南亚金融危机中，美国和国际货币基金组织要求受影响的国家削减赤字和支出。在泰国，这导致艾滋病的重新泛滥；在印度尼西亚，这意味着削减挨饿的人民的粮食补贴。美国和国际货币基金组织迫使这些国家提高利率，在某些国家超过了50%。他们教导印度尼西亚要对银行强硬，要求政府不要救助他们。他们说，这会是一个可怕的先例，是对瑞士钟表般精确运行的自由市场可怕的干预。
东南亚金融危机和美国金融危机的处理方式之间的对比是如此强烈，人们并没打算忽视之。为了把美国拉出深渊，我们现在看到美国大量增加开支和大规模的赤字，即使利率已经降低到零；银行正在被拯救，通过各种各样的方式；一些处理过东南亚金融危机的华盛顿官员，现在正应对美国的金融危机。于是，人们不由得问道，为什么美国用不同药方医治自己？
许多发展中国家仍对多年来受到的胁迫感到愤怒：他们应该采取美国制度，放松管制，开放市场给美国银行，这将使他们能够了解“好”银行的做法，应该出售自己的公司和银行给美国人，特别是在危机期间用跳楼价卖出。华盛顿说，这将是痛苦的，但最终你们将收获更好的。美国派出了财政部部长(两党)环绕全球进行宣讲。在发展中世界的许多人看来，这扇旋转门，使美国金融领袖们从容穿梭于华尔街和华盛顿之间，这让他们更具有可信性；这些人似乎同时掌握着金钱和政治权力。美国金融领导人正确地认为对美国或世界有利的就是对金融市场有利的，但他们反过来的想法则是错误的，即对华尔街有利的就是对美国和世界有利的。
对发展中国家来说，对美国经济的失败所进行的激烈批判并不是幸灾乐祸激起的，因为他们需要发现什么样的经济制度可以真正为他们未来所采用。事实上，这些国家都希望看到美国迅速恢复。他们所知道的是，他们自己无法做到美国试图恢复其经济所采取的措施；他们知道，即使是这些巨额的开支也很难快速奏效；他们知道，来自美国衰退的冲击波已导致短短几年的跨度中又有两亿人陷入贫困。他们越来越多地相信，任何美国提出的经济理论都会付诸实施，而不仅仅只是热忱而已。
要管制，也要市场和民主
美国式资本主义已失去光环，可能无法修复，但这也许是好事。美国一直扮演着全球资本中枢的角色，因为其他人认为美国具有风险管理和分配财政资源的特殊能力。如今人们不这么想了。亚洲已经发展出自己的金融中心，世界大部分地区的储蓄如今都埋藏在这里。世界最大的三家银行目前都在中国。美国最大的银行已经下跌到第5位。
美元一直是储备货币，很多国家持有以增强本国货币和政府的信任度。但它在世界各国中央银行中的地位已逐渐下降——美元可能不是一个很好的价值储备。其价值动荡不定，且不断下降。在目前危机中，美国大规模增加债务，美国联邦储备委员会的大规模贷款，加深了对美元未来的忧虑。中国已公开想法，希望创立一种新的储备货币取代它。
处理危机的费用排挤了其他需求，美国从来没有慷慨援助过贫困国家。而近年来，中国在非洲的基础设施投资已远远超过了世界银行和非洲开发银行的总和，也超过了美国。在这场危机中，非洲国家正奔向北京寻求援助，而不是华盛顿。
有所担心的是，当更清楚地看到美国经济和社会制度的漏洞，许多发展中国家将得出错误结论。一些国家，也许包括美国自己，将得到正确教训。他们会认识到现在需要的是一个成功制度，即市场的作用和政府的平衡，一个强大国家要进行有效管制。他们会认识到，代表特殊利益的权力必须得到遏制。
但是，对于许多国家，其后果可能是混乱。战后体制失败后，一些前共产主义国家向市场资本主义转向，米尔顿•弗里德曼取代了马克思。然而，新的信仰并没让他们变得好过。许多国家可能得出结论：不只是美国式无干预的资本主义失败，而是市场经济已经失败，进而更加错误地认为市场经济在任何情况下都是行不通的。旧式共产主义也许不会回来，但各种形式的过度干预市场则会回来。而这些将会导致失败。穷人在市场原教旨主义下受苦，在这些新制度下穷人将会再次受苦，这将不会带来经济增长。没有经济增长就不可能有可持续的减贫。目前还没有不依赖于市场而成功的经济。而贫困将滋生不满，其影响对全球稳定及美国的安全是显而易见的。
民主信仰是另一个受害者。发展中国家的人们在华盛顿看到被允许自定规则的华尔街将风险带给了全球经济，而当算总账的那一天到来，政府却转身让华尔街自己来处理经济的复苏。他们看到了财富重新分配到金字塔的顶端，很明显牺牲了普通公民的利益。他们看到了美国民主体系政治问责的基本问题。当他们看到所有这一切，就可能给出这样的结论——民主本身存在无可避免的致命错误。
美国经济最终将恢复，并再次达到高点。美国在很长一段时间里都是世界各国中最受赞赏的，也是最富有的。无论喜欢还是不喜欢，它的行为都会受到仔细审视。它的成功将被仿效，而它的失败会被蔑视。这让我回想起福山，他错误地认为，自由民主和市场经济必然胜利，且不会倒转。但他说对了一点：民主和市场的力量对于公正和繁荣的世界是必不可少的。
(摘自《新世纪周刊》)
Wall Street’s Toxic Message
When the current crisis is over, the reputation of American-style capitalism will have taken a beating—not least because of the gap between what Washington practices and what it preaches. Disillusioned developing nations may well turn their backs on the free market, warns Nobel laureate Joseph E. Stiglitz, posing new threats to global stability and U.S. security.
By Joseph E. Stiglitz
July 2009 Vanity Fair
Every crisis comes to an end—and, bleak as things seem now, the current economic crisis too shall pass. But no crisis, especially one of this severity, recedes without leaving a legacy. And among this one’s legacies will be a worldwide battle over ideas—over what kind of economic system is likely to deliver the greatest benefit to the most people. Nowhere is that battle raging more hotly than in the Third World, among the 80 percent of the world’s population that lives in Asia, Latin America, and Africa, 1.4 billion of whom subsist on less than $1.25 a day. In America, calling someone a socialist may be nothing more than a cheap shot. In much of the world, however, the battle between capitalism and socialism—or at least something that many Americans would label as socialism—still rages. While there may be no winners in the current economic crisis, there are losers, and among the big losers is support for American-style capitalism. This has consequences we’ll be living with for a long time to come.
The fall of the Berlin Wall, in 1989, marked the end of Communism as a viable idea. Yes, the problems with Communism had been manifest for decades. But after 1989 it was hard for anyone to say a word in its defense. For a while, it seemed that the defeat of Communism meant the sure victory of capitalism, particularly in its American form. Francis Fukuyama went as far as to proclaim “the end of history,” defining democratic market capitalism as the final stage of social development, and declaring that all humanity was now heading in this direction. In truth, historians will mark the 20 years since 1989 as the short period of American triumphalism. With the collapse of great banks and financial houses, and the ensuing economic turmoil and chaotic attempts at rescue, that period is over. So, too, is the debate over “market fundamentalism,” the notion that unfettered markets, all by themselves, can ensure economic prosperity and growth. Today only the deluded would argue that markets are self-correcting or that we can rely on the self-interested behavior of market participants to guarantee that everything works honestly and properly.
The economic debate takes on particular potency in the developing world. Although we in the West tend to forget, 190 years ago one-third of the world’s gross domestic product was in China. But then, rather suddenly, colonial exploitation and unfair trade agreements, combined with a technological revolution in Europe and America, left the developing countries far behind, to the point where, by 1950, China’s economy constituted less than 5 percent of the world’s G.D.P. In the mid–19th century the United Kingdom and France actually waged a war to open China to global trade. This was the Second Opium War, so named because the West had little of value to sell to China other than drugs, which it had been dumping into Chinese markets, with the collateral effect of causing widespread addiction. It was an early attempt by the West to correct a balance-of-payments problem.
Colonialism left a mixed legacy in the developing world—but one clear result was the view among people there that they had been cruelly exploited. Among many emerging leaders, Marxist theory provided an interpretation of their experience; it suggested that exploitation was in fact the underpinning of the capitalist system. The political independence that came to scores of colonies after World War II did not put an end to economic colonialism. In some regions, such as Africa, the exploitation—the extraction of natural resources and the rape of the environment, all in return for a pittance—was obvious. Elsewhere it was more subtle. In many parts of the world, global institutions such as the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank came to be seen as instruments of post-colonial control. These institutions pushed market fundamentalism (“neoliberalism,” it was often called), a notion idealized by Americans as “free and unfettered markets.” They pressed for financial-sector deregulation, privatization, and trade liberalization.
The World Bank and the I.M.F. said they were doing all this for the benefit of the developing world. They were backed up by teams of free-market economists, many from that cathedral of free-market economics, the University of Chicago. In the end, the programs of “the Chicago boys” didn’t bring the promised results. Incomes stagnated. Where there was growth, the wealth went to those at the top. Economic crises in individual countries became ever more frequent—there have been more than a hundred severe ones in the past 30 years alone.
Not surprisingly, people in developing countries became less and less convinced that Western help was motivated by altruism. They suspected that the free-market rhetoric—“the Washington consensus,” as it is known in shorthand—was just a cover for the old commercial interests. Suspicions were reinforced by the West’s own hypocrisy. Europe and America didn’t open up their own markets to the agricultural produce of the Third World, which was often all these poor countries had to offer. They forced developing countries to eliminate subsidies aimed at creating new industries, even as they provided massive subsidies to their own farmers.
Free-market ideology turned out to be an excuse for new forms of exploitation. “Privatization” meant that foreigners could buy mines and oil fields in developing countries at low prices. It meant they could reap large profits from monopolies and quasi-monopolies, such as in telecommunications. “Liberalization” meant that they could get high returns on their loans—and when loans went bad, the I.M.F. forced the socialization of the losses, meaning that the screws were put on entire populations to pay the banks back. It meant, too, that foreign firms could wipe out nascent industries, suppressing the development of entrepreneurial talent. While capital flowed freely, labor did not—except in the case of the most talented individuals, who found good jobs in a global marketplace.
This picture is, obviously, painted with too broad a brush. There were always those in Asia who resisted the Washington consensus. They put restrictions on capital flows. The giants of Asia—China and India—managed their economies their own way, producing unprecedented growth. But elsewhere, and especially in the countries where the World Bank and the I.M.F. held sway, things did not go well.
And everywhere, the debate over ideas continued. Even in countries that have done very well, there is a conviction among the educated and influential that the rules of the game have not been fair. They believe that they have done well despite the unfair rules, and they sympathize with their weaker friends in the developing world who have not done well at all.
Among critics of American-style capitalism in the Third World, the way that America has responded to the current economic crisis has been the last straw. During the East Asia crisis, just a decade ago, America and the I.M.F. demanded that the affected countries cut their deficits by cutting back expenditures—even if, as in Thailand, this contributed to a resurgence of the aids epidemic, or even if, as in Indonesia, this meant curtailing food subsidies for the starving. America and the I.M.F. forced countries to raise interest rates, in some cases to more than 50 percent. They lectured Indonesia about being tough on its banks—and demanded that the government not bail them out. What a terrible precedent this would set, they said, and what a terrible intervention in the Swiss-clock mechanisms of the free market.
The contrast between the handling of the East Asia crisis and the American crisis is stark and has not gone unnoticed. To pull America out of the hole, we are now witnessing massive increases in spending and massive deficits, even as interest rates have been brought down to zero. Banks are being bailed out right and left. Some of the same officials in Washington who dealt with the East Asia crisis are now managing the response to the American crisis. Why, people in the Third World ask, is the United States administering different medicine to itself?
Many in the developing world still smart from the hectoring they received for so many years: they should adopt American institutions, follow our policies, engage in deregulation, open up their markets to American banks so they could learn “good” banking practices, and (not coincidentally) sell their firms and banks to Americans, especially at fire-sale prices during crises. Yes, Washington said, it will be painful, but in the end you will be better for it. America sent its Treasury secretaries (from both parties) around the planet to spread the word. In the eyes of many throughout the developing world, the revolving door, which allows American financial leaders to move seamlessly from Wall Street to Washington and back to Wall Street, gave them even more credibility; these men seemed to combine the power of money and the power of politics. American financial leaders were correct in believing that what was good for America or the world was good for financial markets, but they were incorrect in thinking the converse, that what was good for Wall Street was good for America and the world.
It is not so much Schadenfreude that motivates the intense scrutiny by developing countries of America’s economic failure as it is a real need to discover what kind of economic system can work for them in the future. Indeed, these countries have every interest in seeing a quick American recovery. What they know is that they themselves cannot afford to do what America has done to attempt to revive its economy. They know that even this amount of spending isn’t working very fast. They know that the fallout from America’s downturn has moved 200 million additional people into poverty in the span of just a few years. And they are increasingly convinced that any economic ideals America may espouse are ideals to run from rather than embrace.
Why should we care that the world has become disillusioned with the American model of capitalism? The ideology that we promoted has been tarnished, but perhaps it is a good thing that it may be tarnished beyond repair. Can’t we survive—even do just as well—if not everyone adheres to the American way?
To be sure, our influence will diminish, as we are less likely to be held up as a role model, but that was happening in any case. America used to play a pivotal role in global capital, because others believed that we had a special talent for managing risk and allocating financial resources. No one thinks that now, and Asia—where much of the world’s saving occurs today—is already developing its own financial centers. We are no longer the chief source of capital. The world’s top three banks are now Chinese. America’s largest bank is down at the No. 5 spot.
The dollar has long been the reserve currency—countries held the dollar in order to back up confidence in their own currencies and governments. But it has gradually dawned on central banks around the world that the dollar may not be a good store of value. Its value has been volatile, and declining. The massive increase in America’s indebtedness during the current crisis, combined with the Federal Reserve Board’s massive lending, has heightened anxieties about the future of the dollar. The Chinese have openly floated the idea of inventing some new reserve currency to replace it.
Meanwhile, the cost of dealing with the crisis is crowding out other needs. We have never been generous in our assistance to poor countries. But matters are getting worse. In recent years, China’s infrastructure investment in Africa has been greater than that of the World Bank and the African Development Bank combined, and it dwarfs America’s. African countries are running to Beijing for assistance in this crisis, not to Washington.
But my concern here is more with the realm of ideas. I worry that, as they see more clearly the flaws in America’s economic and social system, many in the developing world will draw the wrong conclusions. A few countries—and maybe America itself—will learn the right lessons. They will realize that what is required for success is a regime where the roles of market and government are in balance, and where a strong state administers effective regulations. They will realize that the power of special interests must be curbed.
But, for many other countries, the consequences will be messier, and profoundly tragic. The former Communist countries generally turned, after the dismal failure of their postwar system, to market capitalism, replacing Karl Marx with Milton Friedman as their god. The new religion has not served them well. Many countries may conclude not simply that unfettered capitalism, American-style, has failed but that the very concept of a market economy has failed, and is indeed unworkable under any circumstances. Old-style Communism won’t be back, but a variety of forms of excessive market intervention will return. And these will fail. The poor suffered under market fundamentalism—we had trickle-up economics, not trickle-down economics. But the poor will suffer again under these new regimes, which will not deliver growth. Without growth there cannot be sustainable poverty reduction. There has been no successful economy that has not relied heavily on markets. Poverty feeds disaffection. The inevitable downturns, hard to manage in any case, but especially so by governments brought to power on the basis of rage against American-style capitalism, will lead to more poverty. The con?sequences for global stability and American security are obvious.
There used to be a sense of shared values between America and the American-educated elites around the world. The economic crisis has now undermined the credibility of those elites. We have given critics who opposed America’s licentious form of capitalism ample ammunition to preach a broader anti-market philosophy. And we keep giving them more and more ammunition. While we committed ourselves at a recent G-20 meeting not to engage in protectionism, we put a “buy American” provision into our own stimulus package. And then, to soften the opposition from our European allies, we modified that provision, in effect discriminating against only poor countries. Globalization has made us more interdependent; what happens in one part of the world affects those in another—a fact made manifest by the contagion of our economic difficulties. To solve global problems, there must be a sense of cooperation and trust, including a sense of shared values. That trust was never strong, and it is weakening by the hour.
Faith in democracy is another victim. In the developing world, people look at Washington and see a system of government that allowed Wall Street to write self-serving rules which put at risk the entire global economy—and then, when the day of reckoning came, turned to Wall Street to manage the recovery. They see continued re-distributions of wealth to the top of the pyramid, transparently at the expense of ordinary citizens. They see, in short, a fundamental problem of political accountability in the American system of democracy. After they have seen all this, it is but a short step to conclude that something is fatally wrong, and inevitably so, with democracy itself.
The American economy will eventually recover, and so, too, up to a point, will our standing abroad. America was for a long time the most admired country in the world, and we are still the richest. Like it or not, our actions are subject to minute examination. Our successes are emulated. But our failures are looked upon with scorn. Which brings me back to Francis Fukuyama. He was wrong to think that the forces of liberal democracy and the market economy would inevitably triumph, and that there could be no turning back. But he was not wrong to believe that democracy and market forces are essential to a just and prosperous world. The economic crisis, created largely by America’s behavior, has done more damage to these fundamental values than any totalitarian regime ever could have. Perhaps it is true that the world is heading toward the end of history, but it is now sailing against the wind, on a course we set ourselves.
Joseph E. Stiglitz, a Nobel Prize–winning economist, is a professor at Columbia University.
