|
Forum
Donate
Search
Subscribe
jews/911
Wiki
Beerhouse
Blog
Feedback
dna
RCC
AIDS
Home
Surveys
Holocaust
IQ
14th Amdt
19th Amdt
Israelites
NWO
Homicide
Blacks
Whites
Signatory
Talmud
Watchman
Gaelic
TRAITORS
Medicine?
| |

Officially it wants to increase the return on
Japan's $13 trillion in savings, which now earn a
meager 0.25% in a postal savings account
from http://www.pathfinder.com/fortune/1997/970721/jpn.html
July 21, 1997
The Bottom Line on Japan
No, it's not moribund. Nor is it going to turn back
into a global powerhouse
anytime soon. But little by little, Japan is
opening up its economy.
Edward W. Desmond
Reporter Associates Cindy Kano, Andrea Prochniak
Plus: How Goldman Won
udging from newspaper headlines these days,
there are at least two Japans, one ready for the
obituaries and one readying to conquer the
world. The Japan with the deathly pallor has
reportedly been done in by crushing bad-debt
problems, wishy-washy deregulation, and bizarre
economic management. How bizarre? Prime Minister
Ryutaro Hashimoto has mandated a major tax
hike and a cut in government spending, well before
the economy is out of the woods.
Then there is
Japan Inc., back from the dead. Though not
quite the
globe-striding colossus of the late 1980s, Japan's
top performers,
companies like Toyota and Sony, are
fiercer then
ever, earning near record profits and market
share abroad.
Japan's growth in the past fiscal year was a
very respectable
3%, and, contrary to the obituaries,
Japan is
deregulating, here and there. Just look at the
double-digit
growth in telecommunications and Prime
Minister
Hashimoto's promise of a "Big Bang" reform in
Tokyo's hidebound
financial markets. "I think the
weakness of Japan is emphasized too much," says
Eisuke Sakakibara, director-general of the
International Finance Bureau at the Ministry of
Finance. "I would call it irrational pessimism. Japan is
neither a miracle nor about to collapse. We're
aiming at a mature, stable 2% to 3% growth."
Somehow, neither idea fully convinces. Japan isn't
moribund, yet the Japanese have a lot to do before
they can coast along on momentum--or until their
economy's strength matches that of the U.S. In fact,
like the Americans who studied Japanese concepts
like "just-in-time inventory" a decade ago, Japanese
business wonks today are looking for the secret of
America's success. Their answer: deregulation, as
launched by President Ronald Reagan in the 1980s.
Says Makoto Utsumi, a retired former vice finance
minister: "I know a U.S. Congressman who opposed
Reagan when unemployment in his state was
something like 21%. Now it's 5%. Now he says Reagan
was right. And Reagan was right."
Hashimoto has a lot to prove before anyone calls
him Japan's Reagan, especially considering the
reluctance of Japan's powerful bureaucrats to admit
that their "miracle" economy has seen its day. Yet
time is running out on the tried and true methods
of Japan Inc. From 1992 to 1994, Japan staggered
along with practically no growth. Recovery since
then has been erratic, marked by one-time,
government-led tactics such as heavy public works
spending, record-low interest rates, and an
export-stimulating weak yen policy. In fact,
Hashimoto underscored Japan's dependency on the weak
yen on his trip to New York last month when he said
Japan might "succumb to the temptation" to sell
off U.S. Treasuries if Washington did not cooperate
in stabilizing exchange rates--a comment that
threw the Dow into an unnerving dive. It's on the
strength of that weakened yen that Japan's blue-chip
manufacturers have recovered, but for the first
time they have not brought the rest of the economy
along too--the financial sector, small industry,
construction and real estate, and so on.
It's no wonder that Japanese frequently ask in
popular newspaper and magazine commentary: "If the
economy is recovering as well as the government
claims, then why don't we feel better?" Japan is on its
fifth Prime Minister in five years, and the
nation's bureaucrats, once the most esteemed group in the
country, are regarded with contempt. The situation
is ripe for change, as long as some kamikaze (divine
wind), like a further weakening of the yen, does
not intervene to save the old system. More pain, more
gain--at least from the reformist point of view.
Will the reformists prevail? They'll have to, at
least in certain fields, like finance and information
technology, where Japan must compete globally to
survive. Hashimoto claims that he will stake his
political future on change, but the question is how
much, how fast. Six years into the hard lessons of
Japan's economic setback, that question is still
unanswerable. Says Minoru Makihara, president of
Mitsubishi Corp.: "I think Japan will get there,
but it all depends on timing. If Japan takes too long to
deregulate, it will lose competitiveness. If in the
financial sector, for example, people are really confident
that it will open by 2001, there will be lots of
business pouring into Japan. But if people believe it will
take until 2020, there will be a problem."
The Hashimoto government retorts that the economy is
coming along very well, thank you. Technically
speaking,
it has been recovering for some time. Corporate
earnings
have risen more than 50%, from their lows in 1993 and
1994. Growth in the first quarter of this year was
1.6%,
which annualized would come out to a ripsnorting
6.4%.
So what's the problem? Simply put, no current
source of
growth is here to stay. A significant part of that
spike in
the first quarter, for example, was due to a 4.6%
surge in
consumer spending--the strongest in 37 years--in
anticipation of an April rise in sales tax from 3% to
5%.
Exports contributed nearly 25% of net growth in the
past three quarters. Top-tier exporters have cut
costs dramatically, strengthened their balance
sheets by borrowing at Japan's lowest interest rates in
postwar history, and moved significant portions of
their production chain overseas. Best of all, the yen
steadily weakened in the past 23 months, reaching a
52-month low of 127.46 to the dollar on May 1.
"Companies like Canon, Matsushita, Honda, and
Toyota look like GE five years ago," says Kenneth
Courtis, chief economist at Deutsche Bank. "They
have tremendous momentum. They spent the
recession cutting costs--Toyota by as much as
38%--and the results are nothing less than
revolutionary."
That's a bummer if you happen to be Detroit or IBM,
but it does not mean that Japan is back on its
feet. "We've had very good growth of exports
relative to everything else," says Ronald Bevacqua,
economist at Merrill Lynch in Tokyo, "but it's an
environment where the Nikkei is going nowhere, bank
loans are not growing, and small firms are not
doing well. Japan is like a four-cylinder engine with only
one cylinder working." And that one cylinder could
easily blow out if Japan's partners in the G-7,
unhappy about Japan Inc.'s export windfall, have
their way.
No one is warier of the export issue than Robert
Rubin, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, now the most
prominent player in U.S.-Japan relations. Japan's
export blitz puts Rubin on the spot because, ironically
enough, the U.S. Treasury made it possible in a
backhanded way. In late 1995, just as then-U.S.
Trade Representative Mickey Kantor declared a
dubious victory in trade talks with Japan, Rubin
reached an informal, nonpublic understanding with
the Finance Ministry's Sakakibara to help weaken
the yen to put Japan's economy back on its feet.
Tokyo's side of the bargain was to encourage capital
flows into U.S. securities, which contributed in a
big way to the health of U.S. markets and Clinton's
reelection last year. Tokyo also agreed to two
conditions: first, to push domestic-demand-led growth;
second, to keep the trade surplus under control.
Tokyo, however, let Rubin down on both counts.
When the yen got weaker, Japanese manufacturers did
what comes naturally: export like hell. As a
share of GDP, exports had declined from 3.1% in
1993 to 1.4% early this year, but that ratio is now
mounting fast. In May alone, Japan's merchandise
trade surplus jumped 222.2% from a year earlier,
and exports jumped 20.5%, led by a 43.3% rise in
car exports. In the first five months of this year, for
example, U.S. sales of Toyota's popular 4Runner
were up 37%. It was no surprise when the G-7
Summit in Denver last month pointed a finger at
Japan, insisting that Tokyo do more to create more
growth at home.
But Japan has already embarked on a risky course
domestically. Hashimoto's government in May
agreed to a dramatic fiscal contraction plan that
flies in the face of Tokyo's pledges to strengthen
domestic growth. From Washington's point of view
the plan is madness: Why would Japan want to
raise taxes the equivalent of 2.4% of GDP and
reduce overall government spending 0.5%, including a
10% cut in public works, at a time when the
domestic economy is still unsteady? Says one U.S. official:
"Hashimoto's macro policy is a train wreck waiting
to happen."
At the Ministry of Finance, the argument in favor
of deficit reduction is simple if unconvincing. As a
result of five massive supplementary budgets and
tax cuts, Japan's budget deficit is now nearly 7% of
GDP. That's on par with Italy's--a shocking
development to a nation of proud penny pinchers. What is
more, goes the argument, the rapid aging of Japan's
population means that social welfare payouts will
escalate sharply in the years ahead and the tax
base will shrink, a recipe for still more fiscal trouble.
Better to mop it up now. Those arguments have taken
a profound hold not only in Hashimoto's
government but in the press and with the public as
well.
U.S. officials believe that the plan puts the
recovery needlessly at risk. With a third of the world's
savings in its banks and virtually no demand for
capital at home, Japan can afford to lend to itself. And
interest rates are at an all-time low, so borrowing
is cheap. Richard Koo, a senior economist at the
Nomura Research Institute, argues that the
ministry's move makes sense only as a way to restore its
battered prestige and recapture the moral high
ground after a series of unprecedented scandals in the
past few years. Says Koo: "The Ministry of Finance
is willing to punish the rest of Japan in order to
survive."
The result is a standoff between Washington and
Tokyo, but a standoff that's largely behind the screen.
To some extent, Sakakibara is trying to head off a
conflict. This spring the Ministry of Finance quietly
engineered a strengthening of the yen. The yen fell
15%, from 127 on May 1 to 110 on June 11, a
rapid drop that angered Japanese manufacturers.
Treasury officials, however, are still repeating their
mantra that Japan must show domestic-led growth and
contain the trade surplus. Look for a move of
the yen to 100 before year-end.
If exports slow, where will Japan's growth come
from? Hashimoto has opted to raise taxes and cut
spending, so there is no hope for government pump
priming. Consumers? Part of the government's
current policy centers on talking up the economy to
loosen pocketbooks, but so far it hasn't worked:
Japanese savings rates are near all-time highs.
What's left is deregulation, the structural reform
of the
economy. Despite all the enthusiasm for Reagan-era
reforms, though, there will not be any sweeping
moves. Japan's regulatory scene is heavily
Balkanized:
Ministries control their own turf, and few are
eager to
give up the power and influence that comes from the
more than 10,000 regulations that govern Japan's
business scene. The idea of the traditionally passive
Diet taking matters into its own hands is almost
inconceivable, and in any case, deregulation across
the
board would have disastrous consequences because
so many sectors have far too many employees. "No
one is stupid enough to really want deregulation in
every industry," says Jesper Koll, chief of
economic research at J.P. Morgan Securities Asia. "There
would be nothing left."
But increasingly Tokyo really is willing to open up
key industries, all of which share one element: a fear
of falling behind. Right now there is a lot of
anxiety in Japan about the U.S. edge in information
technology and finance--two sectors that have
recently started to deregulate.
In telecommunications, for example, the Ministry of
Posts and Telecommunications has ended NTT's
monopoly in many areas, including local phone
service, and also pushed through a plan to break up the
telecom giant. The result is a boom in businesses
like portable phones. Prices have fallen to almost
nothing for Personal Handiphone System phones, a
sort of poor man's cellular. Basic PHS service is
only about $20 per month, plus a few cents for each
minute, no matter the distance. Virtually every
college student now has a PHS, and there is serious
discussion that they will soon make public phones
extinct. Both usage and revenue for the PHS
companies, which include NTT Personal, DDI Pocket,
and Astel, more than doubled in the past year. PHS
is Japan's first major telecommunications system
export--to Hong Kong. Overall, the
telecommunications sector grew 19% last year.
"Usually we think of deregulation as a paper tiger
in Japan," says Richard Kaye, a telecommunications
analyst at Merrill Lynch in Tokyo. "But in
telecommunications we have to give them the benefit of the
doubt. All the walls are coming down, and actual
beneficial effects are visible in the economy." One
example of the benefits for foreign companies: In
March, Motorola won a $2 billion contract to build
infrastructure for a new digital cellular phone
system.
But when it comes to deregulation the real headline
grabber is Hashimoto's declaration in November
that he would set free Japan's financial markets by
the year 2001. In fact, gradual deregulation has been
going on for years, and foreign financial
institutions like Goldman Sachs, Merrill Lynch, and Fidelity are
already making big plays (see box). But Hashimoto,
at the Finance Ministry's prodding, is determined
to go much further. Next April, foreign-exchange
controls will be lifted completely, and legislation is in
the works that should--if it lives up to its
promise--throw wide open the banking, trading, and insurance
businesses.
The Finance Ministry also insists that it will end
its dominating, behind-the-scenes micromanagement of
the financial sector. Foreign bankers are drooling
at the prospect of an open field in Tokyo. Virtually
every major foreign bank is increasing its staff to
handle new business in areas like mutual funds and
future business such as securitizing troubled loan
portfolios. Bankers Trust's announcement in April that
it would assist Nippon Credit, a major but ailing
bank, was motivated partly by eagerness to play in
securitization, where Japanese banks are clueless.
Why did the Finance Ministry have such a change of
heart? Officially it wants to increase the return on
Japan's $13 trillion in savings, which now earn a
meager 0.25% in a postal savings account, the most
common place for savers to put their cash. That's
undoubtedly a part of the story, but the ministry is
also eager to ensure the safety of the industry. So
far, 16 banks and related financial institutions have
closed, and many other banks and life insurance
companies are at risk due to bad-debt problems. The
ministry closed Nissan Life, a $16 billion company,
in April, the first insurance company to collapse
since the war. The arrival of foreign banks will
mean not only more competition but also more capital
and know-how to extend a bigger safety net under
the ailing financial institutions.
If the bureaucrats in the ministry's banking
division have learned one lesson in the 1990s, it is that they
cannot begin to supervise the detailed operations
of banks with trillions in assets and global operations.
"They now feel that telling the banks what to do
got out of hand," says Noboru Sakata, a senior adviser
at Nippon Credit Bank, "and if they continue to do
it, Japanese banks will be left behind."
Tokyo also wants its markets to become world-class
and the financial center for Asia. Officials say that
the turning point for Hashimoto was the G-7 meeting
in Lyon last year, where he realized that the euro
might overshadow the yen unless Japanese banks
became more competitive. The question is whether
the Hashimoto government can really face up to the
closures, consolidations, and huge personnel cuts
that everyone agrees are an inevitable part of a
real Big Bang. "I doubt that Hashimoto really
understands the significant pain that will result
from Big Bang," says Shinji Okabe, a bank analyst at
Moody's Japan. "But if the Japanese banking system
does not change, many banks will die anyway."
Japan's economic managers tried to avoid the main
lesson from the blowout of the early 1990s--that
the country needed a fundamental overhaul of its
economic system--for as long as possible, but now
the message is seeping through. Big Bang, if it
really comes to pass, is exhibit A, and other fitful
deregulatory efforts also point to progress. But
Japan has just started down a long road. Change is
going to come in fits and starts, following the
imperatives of Japan's bureaucratic landscape. "We have
to make changes in the system that led to Japan's
success," says Akio Mikuni, president of Mikuni &
Co., a credit-rating agency in Tokyo, "and that's
not easy." Japan has made radical changes before, but
they've always unfolded frustratingly slowly. It
will take years, not months, before its economy is hitting
on all cylinders again.
HOW GOLDMAN WON
The Japanese like to say that when Japan finally
changes, it's usually abrupt and decisive. Don Mulvihill,
president of Goldman Sachs Asset Management Japan
Ltd., would sign on to that. From 1992 to 1995
he spent much of his time lobbying Japanese
officials to make Japan's trillions in pension and mutual
fund accounts more open to foreign investment
management companies. Suddenly, it happened. Last
year Goldman Sachs sold $4 billion worth of shares
in five new mutual funds and took on management
of $1.5 billion in pension funds from a government
fund and big corporations like Honda, Toyota, and
Sony.
So far, foreign firms have only
minuscule percentages of the $1.3 trillion
pension fund and mutual fund
businesses. But the potential is intoxicating.
Japanese savers have stashed away
$13 trillion, the majority in low-yield
savings accounts. With Japanese
interest rates at record lows, the stock market
in a seven-year funk, and many
big insurance companies barely solvent, returns
have dwindled. That, along with
pressure from the U.S. Treasury, helped
launch Goldman's business, as
well as that of 15 or so non-Japanese
competitors. "The system,"
Mulvihill says, "is up for grabs here."
When the insurance companies cut
their guaranteed returns to 2.5% in April
last year, pension managers
rebelled. Last year Nenpuku, the national
employee insurance system, took
the lead by withdrawing $50 billion from
insurance companies' funds and depositing part of
it with investment management firms, including
Goldman. Many corporations followed suit.
The Ministry of Finance helped by relaxing some
onerous requirements for foreign mutual funds last
year. But marketing was a challenge. Japanese
housewives do most of the investing for their families,
and Mulvihill's marketing folks told him that they
expect something, well, sort of jazzy, not the usual
somber Goldman image. The result: colorful posters
for funds named Da Vinci, Marco Polo, and so on.
"Our people in New York," says Mulvihill, "were
mystified by this sort of marketing." But hey, it
worked.
| |
|