A journey through cappuccino country
It’s a strange, scary world: America is militarising, Europe is fracturing, China is belligerent, Russia is resurgent, and Isis is metastasizing. Meanwhile, the rest of the world has absolutely no idea what the future holds, as it scrambles to decipher Twitter feeds and digest alternative facts.
If 2016 was the year of tight electoral margins, faulty polling, absentee voters and shock upsets (think Brexit, Colombia, America, Jamaica), then 2017 is also shaping up to be a humdinger.
The political economy of the world as we know it is in flux. The irresistible force of globalisation has fully struck the immovable object of nationalism, and the resulting shock waves are reverberating across this hemisphere and well beyond.
The major US equity indices just hit record highs, global interest rates remain moderate, and the VIX volatility index is at a decade-long low, yet a quiet anxiety persists in the halls of power. Can the international corporate debt bomb be managed in a new era of rising rates? Is the future of world trade in doubt? When will President Trump draw the wrong red line?
No matter. Most investors remain ‘risk on’, lured by Trumpian promises of lower taxes, fewer rules, more energy, major infrastructure, and Republican majorities.
If there’s one thing that’s certain, it’s the perfect setting for the silent glide of the black swans, those off-radar assaults that disrupt the global dynamic in a heartbeat, sparking volatility and igniting systemic risk.
JAMAICA’S CAPPUCINO
Jamaica’s international risk profile improved moderately in 2016, with quantum improvements in the major financial metrics and demonstrated business confidence in the GOJ’s economic growth agenda. However, upward economic mobility remains elusive for most Jamaicans, who read or hear about flashy new car showrooms, uber luxury hotels, and costly oil hedges.
This fundamental dichotomy has cast a dark shadow over the nation’s aspirations, resulting in a 48 per cent voter turnout, a massive underground economy, an erosion of trust in public institutions, and an inducement to criminality.
Although Jamaica is finally on the road to recovery, the long climb from the economic abyss has taken a dramatic human toll on its lower and middle-income earners.
Income inequality may be simply described in terms of a cup of coffee. Would you like an espresso, latte, americano, or cappuccino economy? An oil-exporting economy would be an espresso, the EU would be a latte, the americano is obvious — but the cappuccino?
That just might be Jamaica — white and frothy at the top, then a rich creamy brown underlay, and finally a larger, darker foundation that’s more bitter than sweet, never seeing the light of day or tasting the lips of success; while 5% GDP growth in four years is a catalysing mission. Mere numbers will never tell the real Jamaican story.
True political wisdom will target that cup of cappuccino and focus on devising a new economic blend that percolates with greater velocity and broader dispersion. With a razor-thin election margin of less than 4,000 votes nationwide, expansion of economic opportunity is the key to the JLP’s future political dominance – not just attaining ‘5 in 4’.
It took Panama a dozen years of six per cent plus GDP growth to emerge from the Central American muck and become a global node, and a large part of its success lay in the transformation from a cappuccino to an “americano” economy that was more inclusive of all layers of society.
Uruguay is another case study in social transformation — a tiny nation on the edge of nowhere that effectively wielded state power to create economic opportunity and enhance income equality in a new ‘latte’ economy. Both these once turbulent nations are now on a glide path to sustainable growth.
Why does all this matter? It matters because, although both Panama City and Montevideo are thriving cosmopolitan business centres, anecdotal evidence suggests that scruffy Kingston boasts more new Range Rovers, BMWs, Mercedes, and Lexuses per capita — that’s cappuccino froth at its foamiest, and cause for real concern.
Creating a better economic brew is hard work, but Jamaica can take advantage of some compelling short cuts: an emergent ganja industry driven by export licensing, a resurgent construction industry driven by tax reform, inner- city infrastructure driven by state capex, and agricultural diversity driven by tourism linkages are just some of the ingredients that will make a more inclusive blend.
Jamaican premium coffee is reputedly among the best in the world, grown by hardy farmers in the cool hills, but processed by corporate titans, and consumed by the local and international elite, being well beyond the reach of ordinary Jamaicans. There’s a clear metaphor here.
In the pursuit of national aspirations, history teaches us that it’s not just the size of the economic coffee pot that’s important, but it’s the quality of the blend that really counts.
Cappuccino looks good and the top levels taste great, but that foamy layer disguises a harsher reality the deeper the sip. Recalibrating the economic brew is the only way all Jamaicans can ultimately taste of our nation’s best.