現在のアメリカ経済は危機的状態：ＥＣＯＮＯＭＩＳＴ記事
ウォーレン･バフェットいわく、
潮が引かなきゃ、誰がすっぽんぽんで泳いでいるかわからない
つまり、もうじき、潮が引く（つまりアメリカのバブルが終わる）けど、そのとき初めて、
だれがすっぽんぽんになっているか、わかるということ。
潮(tide）というのは、あるフレーズが元になっていて、バブルの絶頂期の意味だそうなのだ。
おもしろ～い（ですよね、すっぽんぽんのところが）。
America's economy
Danger time for America
The economy that Alan Greenspan is about to hand over is in a much less healthy state than is popularly assumed
DESPITE his rather appealing personal humility, the tributes lavished upon Alan Greenspan, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, become more exuberant by the day. Ahead of his retirement on January 31st, he has been widely and extravagantly acclaimed by economic commentators, politicians and investors. After all, during much of his 18½ years in office America enjoyed rapid growth with low inflation, and he successfully steered the economy around a series of financial hazards. In his final days of glory, it may therefore seem churlish to question his record. However, Mr Greenspan's departure could well mark a high point for America's economy, with a period of sluggish growth ahead. This is not so much because he is leaving, but because of what he is leaving behind: the biggest economic imbalances in American history.
One should not exaggerate Mr Greenspan's influence—both good and bad—over the economy. Like all central bankers he is constrained by huge uncertainties about how the economy works, and by the limits of what monetary policy can do (it can affect inflation, but it cannot increase the long-term rate of growth). He controls only short-term interest rates, not bond yields, taxes or regulation. Yet for all these constraints, Mr Greenspan has long been the world's most important economic policy maker—and during an exceptional period when globalisation and information technology have been transforming the world economy. His reign has coincided with the opening up to trade and global capital flows of China, India, the former Soviet Union and many other previously closed economies. And Mr Greenspan's policies have helped to support globalisation: the robust American demand and huge appetite for imports that he facilitated made it easier for these economies to emerge and embrace open markets. The benefits to poorer nations have been huge.
So far as the American economy is concerned, however, the Fed's policies of the past decade look like having painful long-term costs. It is true that the economy has shown amazing resilience in the face of the bursting in 2000-01 of the biggest stockmarket bubble in history, of terrorist attacks and of a tripling of oil prices. Mr Greenspan's admirers attribute this to the Fed's enhanced credibility under his charge. Others point to flexible wages and prices, rapid immigration, a sounder banking system and globalisation as factors that have made the economy more resilient to shocks.
The economy's greater flexibility may indeed provide a shock-absorber. A spurt in productivity has also boosted growth. But the main reason why America's growth has remained strong in recent years has been a massive monetary stimulus. The Fed held real interest rates negative for several years, and even today real rates remain low. Thanks to globalisation, new technology and that vaunted flexibility, which have all helped to reduce the prices of many goods, cheap money has not spilled into traditional inflation, but into rising asset prices instead—first equities and now housing. The Economist has long criticised Mr Greenspan for not trying to restrain the stockmarket bubble in the late 1990s, and then, after it burst, for inflating a housing bubble by holding interest rates low for so long (see article ). The problem is not the rising asset prices themselves but rather their effect on the economy. By borrowing against capital gains on their homes, households have been able to consume more than they earn. Robust consumer spending has boosted GDP growth, but at the cost of a negative personal saving rate, a growing burden of household debt and a huge current-account deficit.
Ben Bernanke, Mr Greenspan's successor, likes to explain America's current-account deficit as the inevitable consequence of a saving glut in the rest of the world. Yet a large part of the blame lies with the Fed's own policies, which have allowed growth in domestic demand to outstrip supply for no less than ten years on the trot. Part of America's current prosperity is based not on genuine gains in income, nor on high productivity growth, but on borrowing from the future. The words of Ludwig von Mises, an Austrian economist of the early 20th century, nicely sum up the illusion: “It may sometimes be expedient for a man to heat the stove with his furniture. But he should not delude himself by believing that he has discovered a wonderful new method of heating his premises.”
As a result of weaker job creation than usual and sluggish real wage growth, American incomes have increased much more slowly than in previous recoveries. According to Morgan Stanley, over the past four years total private-sector labour compensation has risen by only 12% in real terms, compared with an average gain of 20% over the comparable period of the previous five expansions. Without strong gains in incomes, the growth in consumer spending has to a large extent been based on increases in house prices and credit. In recent months Mr Greenspan himself has given warnings that house prices may fall, and that this in turn could cause consumer spending to slow. In addition, he suggests that foreigners will eventually become less eager to finance the current-account deficit. Central banks in Asia and oil-producing countries have so far been happy to buy dollar assets in order to hold down their own currencies. However, there is a limit to their willingness to keep accumulating dollar reserves. Chinese officials last week offered hints that they are looking eventually to diversify China's foreign-exchange reserves. Over the next couple of years the dollar is likely to fall and bond yields rise as investors demand higher compensation for risk.
When house-price rises flatten off, and therefore the room for further equity withdrawal dries up, consumer spending will stumble. Given that consumer spending and residential construction have accounted for 90% of GDP growth in recent years, it is hard to see how this can occur without a sharp slowdown in the economy.
Handovers to a new Fed chairman are always tricky moments. They have often been followed by some sort of financial turmoil, such as the 1987 stockmarket crash, only two months after Mr Greenspan took over. This handover takes place with the economy in an unusually vulnerable state, thanks to its imbalances. The interest rates that Mr Bernanke will inherit will be close to neutral, neither restraining nor stimulating the economy. But America's domestic demand needs to grow more slowly in order to bring the saving rate and the current-account deficit back to sustainable levels. If demand fails to slow, he will need to push rates higher. This will be risky, given households' heavy debts. After 13 increases in interest rates, the tide of easy money is now flowing out, and many American households are going to be shockingly exposed. In the words of Warren Buffett, “It's only when the tide goes out that you can see who's swimming naked.”
How should Mr Bernanke respond to falling house prices and a sharp economic slowdown when they come? While he is even more opposed than Mr Greenspan to the idea of restraining asset-price bubbles, he seems just as keen to slash interest rates when bubbles burst to prevent a downturn. He is likely to continue the current asymmetric policy of never raising interest rates to curb rising asset prices, but always cutting rates after prices fall. This is dangerous as it encourages excessive risk taking and allows the imbalances to grow ever larger, making the eventual correction even worse. If the imbalances are to unwind, America needs to accept a period in which domestic demand grows more slowly than output.
The big question is whether the rest of the world will slow too. The good news is that growth is becoming more broadly based, as demand in the euro area and Japan has been picking up, and fears about an imminent hard landing in China have faded. America kept the world going during troubled times. But now it is time for others to take the lead.
From The Economist print edition
中国のひどい要求の話
中国外務省の崔天凱アジア局長は９日、北京での日中政府間協議で「日本のマスコミは中国のマイナス面ばかり書いている。日本政府はもっとマスコミを指導すべきだ」と述べ、日本側に中国報道についての規制を強く求めた。
メディアを政府の監督下に置き、報道の自由を厳しく規制している中国当局者の要求に対し、日本外務省の佐々江賢一郎アジア大洋州局長らは「そんなことは無理」と説明したという。
日本側によると、崔局長はまた、小泉純一郎首相の靖国神社参拝問題や日本国内での「中国脅威論」の高まりなども挙げ「（日中間にあるのは）日本が起こした問題ばかり。中国は常に守りに回っている」と批判した。
佐々江局長は「日本だけが一方的に悪いという主張は受け入れられない」と反論したが、双方の隔たりの大きさに、日本の外務省幹部は「これが日中関係の置かれている実態」と苦笑した。（共同）
ZAKZAK 2006/01/10
中国の報道規制はすごいらしい。私の知人から聞いた話では、映画も自由に見られないらしい。体制に批判的な映画は上映禁止だとか。そして、その映画が見られない中国の人がかわいそうだと、知人がレポートを書いたら、書き直しなさいといわれたそうだ。
中国の死刑執行場面をインターネットで見られる。中国のＨＰのその場面に、この前、2チャンネルでリンクが張ってあった。途中まで見た。20歳前の少女たちだった。何をしたのかわからないが、押さえつけて、銃を突きつけられているところまでは、見た。それ以上は、見なかった。公開処刑でその様子をみんなが見物していた。
そうやって、恐怖で体制を維持しているのだろう。
一年間に数千人も死刑になっているという。そして、その臓器を移植に使っているらしい。すぐ隣にあるのに、中国といい、北朝鮮といい、なんて恐ろしい国だろう。
日刊ゲンダイのＨＰから：アメリカの要求：昨年末の年次改革要望書
| 2006年1月6日 掲載 | |||
やっぱり出たか、という感じだ。郵貯マネーを外資が活用するとはどういうことだろうか？ きっと証券化のくず部分を日本に押し付けてくるのだろう。 日本REITの株式情報を見た。 ファンド一つ一つの会社概要を見ると利益率が40％とかあるのに、予想利回りは、３％くらいである。どこがもうけているのか。 最も利回りが高くかつ安全性の高い優良資産部分は、投資資産数十億円とかの個人投資家或いは機関投資家が購入して、がっぽりもうけているというわけなのである。 |
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ビフィズス菌がインフルエンザ予防に有効！！
ビフィズス菌、インフルエンザ予防に効く？
ビフィズス菌を多めに取る高齢者は、免疫機能が高まり、インフルエンザウイルスに感染しにくいという研究結果を、森永乳業栄養科学研究所（神奈川県座間市）がまとめた。今年３月に開かれる日本農芸化学会大会で発表する。
茨城県内の介護老人保健施設に入所している高齢者２７人（平均年齢８６歳）に２００４年１１月から毎日、ビフィズス菌の一種「ＢＢ５３６」を１０００億個含む粉末（２グラム）を飲んでもらった。インフルエンザ流行のピークが過ぎる昨年３月末まで飲み続けたグループ（１３人）には、飲む前に比べて、白血球の殺菌機能が高まる傾向が見られ、インフルエンザ発症者がいなかった。一方、１か月半で飲むのをやめたグループでは、１４人中５人が発症した。
光岡知足（ともたり）・東大名誉教授（微生物生態学）は「免疫力の下がった高齢者にとって、インフルエンザにかかりにくくなる効果が期待できる。ただ即効性はないので、流行の１か月以上前から飲み続けることが望ましい」と話している。
ロイター記事から:日本が中国提案のガス田共同試掘合意と中国側発表
2006年 01月 6日 金曜日 07:27 JST
［北京 ５日 ロイター］ 中国外務省スポークスマンは５日の記者会見で、日本政府が、中国が以前から提案していた東シナ海係争水域でのガス田共同試掘に合意したと明らかにした。
同スポークスマンは、日本政府との３回の会合を経て合意に達したと述べたが、投資額や利益分割については両国は合意していないとし、それ以上の詳細への言及を差し控えた。
中国は、日本が領海と主張する水域の近くでガス田を開発しており、日本政府は中国がこの水域の下にある資源の開発に及ぶのではないかと懸念していた。中国側は、日本が日中間の排他的経済水域（ＥＥＺ）の境界と主張する東シナ海の中間線を認めていない。
日本政府は先に、帝国石油<1601.T>に係争水域でのガス田試掘権を付与した。
帝国石油が今回合意した共同開発で日本側の代表になるのか、新たな契約が作成されるかは、中国外務省の発表直後には明らかになっていない。
という記事をみた。これは、いったいどういうことなのだろうか。
対立していたはずじゃなかったのだろうか。
中国側は、試掘ではなく、すでに生産段階に入っているという話も聞いたと思う。
そして中国軍の軍艦が現場を警備していると、昨年の新聞記事で読んだ。日本はどうすることもできず、
くやしいけれど、スポイトのように自国領域分まで、とられてしまうという記事もあった。また、中国は、日本の主張する排他的経済水域を認めていないとも書いてあったのに、合意なんてするのだろうか。
この発表について、日本政府は、外務省は何もしないのだろうか。
もししないならば、日本政府は腰抜けぞろいだ。
日本のロボット：economist記事から
Better than people
From The Economist print edition
Why the Japanese want their robots to act more like humans
HER name is MARIE, and her impressive set of skills comes in handy in a nursing home. MARIE can walk around under her own power. She can distinguish among similar-looking objects, such as different bottles of medicine, and has a delicate enough touch to work with frail patients. MARIE can interpret a range of facial expressions and gestures, and respond in ways that suggest compassion. Although her language skills are not ideal, she can recognise speech and respond clearly. Above all, she is inexpensive . Unfortunately for MARIE, however, she has one glaring trait that makes it hard for Japanese patients to accept her: she is a flesh-and-blood human being from the Philippines. If only she were a robot instead.
Robots, you see, are wonderful creatures, as many a Japanese will tell you. They are getting more adept all the time, and before too long will be able to do cheaply and easily many tasks that human workers do now. They will care for the sick, collect the rubbish, guard homes and offices, and give directions on the street.
This is great news in Japan, where the population has peaked, and may have begun shrinking in 2005. With too few young workers supporting an ageing population, somebody—or something—needs to fill the gap, especially since many of Japan's young people will be needed in science, business and other creative or knowledge-intensive jobs.
Many workers from low-wage countries are eager to work in Japan. The Philippines, for example, has over 350,000 trained nurses, and has been pleading with Japan—which accepts only a token few—to let more in. Foreign pundits keep telling Japan to do itself a favour and make better use of cheap imported labour. But the consensus among Japanese is that visions of a future in which immigrant workers live harmoniously and unobtrusively in Japan are pure fancy. Making humanoid robots is clearly the simple and practical way to go.
Japan certainly has the technology. It is already the world leader in making industrial robots, which look nothing like pets or people but increasingly do much of the work in its factories. Japan is also racing far ahead of other countries in developing robots with more human features, or that can interact more easily with people. A government report released this May estimated that the market for “service robots” will reach ¥1.1 trillion ($10 billion) within a decade.
The country showed off its newest robots at a world exposition this summer in Aichi prefecture. More than 22m visitors came, 95% of them Japanese. The robots stole the show, from the nanny robot that babysits to a Toyota that plays a trumpet. And Japan's robots do not confine their talents to controlled environments. As they gain skills and confidence, robots such as Sony's QRIO (pronounced “curio”) and Honda's ASIMO are venturing to unlikely places. They have attended factory openings, greeted foreign leaders, and rung the opening bell on the New York Stock Exchange. ASIMO can even take the stage to accept awards.
So Japan will need workers, and it is learning how to make robots that can do many of their jobs. But the country's keen interest in robots may also reflect something else: it seems that plenty of Japanese really like dealing with robots.
Few Japanese have the fear of robots that seems to haunt westerners in seminars and Hollywood films. In western popular culture, robots are often a threat, either because they are manipulated by sinister forces or because something goes horribly wrong with them. By contrast, most Japanese view robots as friendly and benign. Robots like people, and can do good.
The Japanese are well aware of this cultural divide, and commentators devote lots of attention to explaining it. The two most favoured theories, which are assumed to reinforce each other, involve religion and popular culture.
Most Japanese take an eclectic approach to religious beliefs, and the native religion, Shintoism, is infused with animism: it does not make clear distinctions between inanimate things and organic beings. A popular Japanese theory about robots, therefore, is that there is no need to explain why Japanese are fond of them: what needs explaining, rather, is why westerners allow their Christian hang-ups to get in the way of a good technology. When Honda started making real progress with its humanoid-robot project, it consulted the Vatican on whether westerners would object to a robot made in man's image.
Japanese popular culture has also consistently portrayed robots in a positive light, ever since Japan created its first famous cartoon robot, Tetsuwan Atomu, in 1951. Its name in Japanese refers to its atomic heart. Putting a nuclear core into a cartoon robot less than a decade after Hiroshima and Nagasaki might seem an odd way to endear people to the new character. But Tetsuwan Atom—being a robot, rather than a human—was able to use the technology for good.
Over the past half century, scores of other Japanese cartoons and films have featured benign robots that work with humans, in some cases even blending with them. One of the latest is a film called “Hinokio”, in which a reclusive boy sends a robot to school on his behalf and uses virtual-reality technology to interact with classmates. Among the broad Japanese public, it is a short leap to hope that real-world robots will soon be able to pursue good causes, whether helping to detect landmines in war-zones or finding and rescuing victims of disasters.
The prevailing view in Japan is that the country is lucky to be uninhibited by robophobia. With fewer of the complexes that trouble many westerners, so the theory goes, Japan is free to make use of a great new tool, just when its needs and abilities are happily about to converge. “Of all the nations involved in such research,” the Japan Times wrote in a 2004 editorial, “Japan is the most inclined to approach it in a spirit of fun.”
These sanguine explanations, however, may capture only part of the story. Although they are at ease with robots, many Japanese are not as comfortable around other people. That is especially true of foreigners. Immigrants cannot be programmed as robots can. You never know when they will do something spontaneous, ask an awkward question, or use the wrong honorific in conversation. But, even leaving foreigners out of it, being Japanese, and having always to watch what you say and do around others, is no picnic.
It is no surprise, therefore, that Japanese researchers are forging ahead with research on human interfaces. For many jobs, after all, lifelike features are superfluous. A robotic arm can gently help to lift and reposition hospital patients without being attached to a humanoid form. The same goes for robotic spoons that make it easier for the infirm to feed themselves, power suits that help lift heavy grocery bags, and a variety of machines that watch the house, vacuum the carpet and so on. Yet the demand for better robots in Japan goes far beyond such functionality. Many Japanese seem to like robot versions of living creatures precisely because they are different from the real thing.
An obvious example is AIBO, the robotic dog that Sony began selling in 1999. The bulk of its sales have been in Japan, and the company says there is a big difference between Japanese and American consumers. American AIBO buyers tend to be computer geeks who want to hack the robotic dog's programming and delve in its innards. Most Japanese consumers, by contrast, like AIBO because it is a clean, safe and predictable pet.
AIBO is just a fake dog. As the country gets better at building interactive robots, their advantages for Japanese users will multiply. Hiroshi Ishiguro, a robotocist at Osaka University, cites the example of asking directions. In Japan, says Mr Ishiguro, people are even more reluctant than in other places to approach a stranger. Building robotic traffic police and guides will make it easier for people to overcome their diffidence.
Karl MacDorman, another researcher at Osaka, sees similar social forces at work. Interacting with other people can be difficult for the Japanese, he says, “because they always have to think about what the other person is feeling, and how what they say will affect the other person.” But it is impossible to embarrass a robot, or be embarrassed, by saying the wrong thing.
To understand how Japanese might find robots less intimidating than people, Mr MacDorman has been investigating eye movements, using headsets that monitor where subjects are looking. One oft-cited myth about Japanese, that they rarely make eye contact, is not really true. When answering questions put by another Japanese, Mr MacDorman's subjects made eye contact around 30% of the time. But Japanese subjects behave intriguingly when they talk to Mr Ishiguro's android, ReplieeQ1. The android's face has been modeled on that of a famous newsreader, and sophisticated actuators allow it to mimic her facial movements. When answering the android's questions, Mr MacDorman's Japanese subjects were much more likely to look it in the eye than they were a real person. Mr MacDorman wants to do more tests, but he surmises that the discomfort many Japanese feel when dealing with other people has something to do with his results, and that they are much more at ease when talking to an android.
Eventually, interactive robots are going to become more common, not just in Japan but in other rich countries as well. As children and the elderly begin spending time with them, they are likely to develop emotional reactions to such lifelike machines. That is human nature. Upon meeting Sony's QRIO, your correspondent promptly referred to it as “him” three times, despite trying to remember that it is just a battery-operated device.
What seems to set Japan apart from other countries is that few Japanese are all that worried about the effects that hordes of robots might have on its citizens. Nobody seems prepared to ask awkward questions about how it might turn out. If this bold social experiment produces lots of isolated people, there will of course be an outlet for their loneliness: they can confide in their robot pets and partners. Only in Japan could this be thought less risky than having a compassionate Filipina drop by for a chat
知的所有権：economsit記事から
Bayhing for blood or Doling out cash?
From The Economist print edition
A landmark law has allowed American universities to profit by patenting their innovations. But the costs are adding up
EVERYONE agrees the reform had the noblest of intentions; yet some now regard it as an assault on the values of academia. A quarter of a century ago this month, America passed the Bayh-Dole act, named after its sponsors, Birch Bayh and Bob Dole, both then members of America's Senate. It was billed as a minor legal tweak—encouraging universities to patent and license the results of federally funded research—but it has had huge effects, both good and ill. It is credited by some with helping pull America out of its economic doldrums by pushing technologies quickly into the hands of industry. In so doing, others complain, it has blurred the line between education and commerce.
The act enables universities to patent any innovation that springs from government-funded research, license it and share the spoils with the inventor. The idea was not to enrich universities, but to give them a reason to propagate the fruits of research which had been mouldering unexploited. And it has worked. In the past 25 years, more than 4,500 firms have been spun out from non-profit research institutes, based on patents generated as a consequence of this law.
Scores of medical advances and technical innovations have resulted, including MRI body scanning, the vaccine for hepatitis B, the atomic-force microscope and even the technique behind Google's search engine. In 2004 alone, American universities and institutes raked in $1.39 billion in licensing revenue, and applied for more than 10,000 new patents. Impressed with this apparent success, other countries, including Japan and Germany, have adopted similar policies. Indeed, just this month, dons at the University of Cambridge, in England, voted to change their institution's handling of intellectual property so that it resembles the way Messrs Bayh and Dole have organised things for America. In 2002 The Economist trumpeted the law as “possibly the most inspired piece of legislation to be enacted in America over the past half-century” (see article ).
Yet the yelps from critics have grown louder over the years. Many scientists, economists and lawyers believe the act distorts the mission of universities, diverting them from the pursuit of basic knowledge, which is freely disseminated, to a focused search for results that have practical and industrial purposes. Whether that is a bad thing is a matter of debate. What is not in dispute is that it makes American academic institutions behave more like businesses than neutral arbiters of truth. For example, a study published in 2003 by Jerry and Marie Thursby, of Emory University and the Georgia Institute of Technology respectively, showed that more than a quarter of the licences issued by universities and research institutes include clauses allowing the business partner in the arrangement to delete information from research papers. Almost half allow them to insist on publication being delayed.
Moreover, there is ample evidence that scientific research is being delayed, deterred or abandoned due to the presence of patents and proprietary technologies. Researchers (and particularly their minders in university patent-licensing offices) are increasingly reluctant to share materials and knowledge with others unless such sharing is accompanied by legal agreements about “reach-through” royalties on potential findings and the right to restrict publication of results. A study released in October by the American Association for the Advancement of Science noted that 35% of academic biotechnology researchers experience difficulties getting hold of patented technologies that they need for their work, even though non-commercial research is supposed to be exempt from the normal restrictions of patents. The question is just how “non-commercial” such research really is. Lawsuits between universities and researchers over patents and royalties are now common. Indeed, though he was eventually exonerated, a student from the University of South Florida ended up doing a stint on a prison chain gang for “stealing” the intellectual property he created.
Even industry is starting to complain about a gold-digger mentality among academic administrators. The most notorious example is Columbia University, which tested the boundaries of the law by seeking to re-patent a technique whose patent had already expired. (It was for a technology called co-transformation that is used to place external DNA into cells, and is important in making certain drugs.) Columbia eventually backed down, but only in the face of both public criticism and a series of writs from biotechnology companies. Another case ensnared the University of Utah, which licensed its patent on a gene underlying hereditary breast cancer exclusively to one company, Myriad Genetics. That gave Myriad a monopoly on diagnostic testing for the disease, which was controversial enough. But then the firm started suing universities that were using its technology in follow-up research, bringing the non-commercial research exemption still further into question.
The example of Myriad, in particular, illuminates the problem. It is the firm's exclusive licence that gives it its power. But the spirit of the act—to encourage dissemination—argues against such exclusivity. Instead, the patent holder should simply publish terms and grant non-exclusive licences to everyone willing to accept them, unless it can justify to the grant-giver why exclusivity is necessary.
Indeed, a backlash has already started. Last year, America's National Institutes of Health, which now disburses almost $30 billion of research money a year, issued guidelines recommending that “whenever possible, non-exclusive licensing should be pursued”. Last month this was endorsed by America's National Research Council, an organisation charged with advising the government on research policy.
If that were not enough, the universities' non-commercial research exemption is also in trouble. In 2002, an appeals court ruled in the case of Madey v Duke University that universities are no different from businesses in the sense that they compete with each other for grants, faculty and students, and they make money by licensing and asserting their patents against others. They cannot, therefore, expect the exemption to apply automatically. This judgment sent shockwaves throughout the academic world, but it should not have done. It merely confirms an ancient proverb: as ye sow, so shall ye reap.
石油ののろい:economsit記事
The paradox of plenty
From The Economist print edition
AN UNUSUAL meeting took place in October at St Matthew's church in Baltimore. After the sermon, some parishioners stayed behind to hear two emissaries from Africa explain the harm that America's gasoline guzzling does to the poor in faraway lands. An elderly parishioner raised his hand: “I know Africa is very rich in diamonds, gold and oil, but the people are very poor. Why are your governments so bad at managing that wealth?” Austin Onuoha, a human-rights activist from Nigeria, smiled and conceded, “You hit the nail right on the head.”
When it comes to wasted wealth, and the problems that bedevil poor countries that are rich in natural resources, especially oil, there is plenty of blame to go around. Economists have long observed that such countries tend to do badly. In a study in 1995, Jeffrey Sachs, now of Columbia University in New York, showed that the resource-rich grow more slowly than other poor countries—even after such variables as initial per capita income and trade policies are taken into account.
The usual explanation for this is “Dutch Disease”, named for the hardships that befell the Netherlands after it found North Sea gas. When a country strikes hydrocarbons, a sudden inflow of dollar-denominated revenues often leads to a sharp appreciation in the domestic currency. That tends to make non-oil sectors like agriculture and manufacturing less competitive on world markets, thus leaving oil to dominate the economy.
Experts have offered fixes for the economic aspects of this “curse of oil” for a while. Some governments have used stabilisation” policies: when oil prices are high, revenues are set aside; when prices fall, governments use the funds to cushion the blow. A related idea is to park part of the proceeds from resources in offshore “funds for the future”. In theory, such funds would not only help spread the wealth over several generations, but also help avoid over-appreciation of the local currency. Some countries even disburse some oil revenues directly to every household, thereby ensuring that ordinary folk see tangible benefits.
These are fine ideas in principle, and in developed countries they even work to some extent. Officials in oil-rich Alberta and Alaska are now handing out potfuls of cash to households. But charges of wasteful government spending and cronyism abound. It has been suggested that a new Iraqi government could disburse oil bounty to its citizens too, but doing so properly in a country where the poor do not have bank accounts will be tricky. Norway has an offshore oil fund that is often touted as a model for developing countries. Yet even the virtuous Norwegians have been raiding it for politically popular causes.
In developing countries, such raids are the rule rather than the exception. Zambia set up a stabilisation scheme to manage mineral exports; but as prices soared in the 1970s, the government dropped it—and years of pain followed when prices fell again. Venezuela set up a fund for the future, “El Fondo de Inversiónes”, in 1974, but was soon raiding the kitty. An orgy of domestic spending left the country with a herd of white-elephant projects, huge foreign debt and declining social spending.
Michael Ross, at the University of California at Los Angeles, argues that oil-rich countries do far less to help the poor than do countries without resources. He points to evidence that oil and mineral states fare worse on child mortality and nutrition, have lower literacy and school-enrolment rates and do relatively worse on measures like the UN's “Human Development Index”.
Why? Economics offers some answers. Unlike agriculture, the oil sector employs few unskilled people. The inherent volatility of commodity prices hurts the poor the most, as they are least able to hedge their risks. And because the resource is concentrated, the resulting wealth passes through only a few hands—and so is more susceptible to misdirection.
This misdirection points to another explanation for the oil curse that is gaining favour: politics. Because oil money often flows directly from Big Oil to the Big Man, as Africa's dictators are known, governments have little need to raise revenues through taxes. Arvind Subramanian of the IMF argues that such rulers have no incentive to develop non-oil sources of wealth, and the ruled (but untaxed) consequently have little incentive to hold their rulers accountable.
Some argue the Persian Gulf has escaped the oil curse. True, access to health care and education in the Gulf did improve (though booming populations in places like Saudi Arabia are eroding those gains). And a few countries, such as Qatar and the United Arab Emirates, have tried to diversify their economies. But a study by Mr Subramanian suggests that the Gulf's oil has rotted democratic institutions. Rachel Bronson of the Council on Foreign Relations, a think-tank in New York, points as evidence to life before oil. When the Saudi ruling family needed tax revenues, it consulted the merchant classes in Jeddah, so there was some mild democratic participation. The arrival of vast oil wealth, she argues, wiped out the power of the merchants, and made it easier for the royal family to quash democracy.
Another recent political argument is that resources fuel civil war. An analysis by Paul Collier of Oxford University suggests that for any given five-year period, the chance of a civil war in an African country varies from less than 1% in countries without resource wealth to nearly 25% in those with such riches.
Mr Subramanian concludes that economic factors like the Dutch Disease and corruption alone do not explain the oil curse. He maintains that the problem is weak institutions. George Soros, a financier who has set up charities to work on this issue, agrees.
The good news is that international initiatives are starting to shine a cold light on the murky business of oil. Tony Blair is promoting the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (EITI), a voluntary effort involving governments and oil majors. George Soros is backing the “Publish What You Pay” campaign, which demands more aggressive disclosure. Even big oil companies, long accused by activists of propping up dictators with bribes, are joining the transparency bandwagon.
As with the issue of global warming, BP is the oil major making the most public noise—and Exxon Mobil apparently the one most opposed to change. Ask senior executives of both firms what they think of the oil curse, and their answers are strikingly different. Graham Baxter at BP says “the curse of oil is a problem that BP recognises, and we have a part to play in helping our hosts deal with this wall of dollar-denominated cash coming into their fragile economies.” But André Madec of Exxon says: “We don't like to call it the oil curse, we prefer ‘governance curse’. We are private investors, and it is not our role to tell governments how to spend their money.”
Yet the two firms' actions are not so different. BP may be vocal on the issue, but after getting burned in Angola (it published information about its oil bid and got a bitter rebuke from government officials) it no longer strays far from the pack. And Exxon, for all its gruff talk, is at the heart of a controversial project aimed at monitoring the revenues generated by the new Chad-Cameroon oil pipeline. The money is deposited in offshore escrow accounts and scrutinised by an oversight committee representing parliament and civic organisations. It is also involved in half a dozen countries participating in the EITI.
How far can transparency go? Mr Sachs sees no reason why government oil contracts should stay secret. Companies and governments have usually engaged in a conspiracy of silence about contractual terms, signing bonuses and other rake-offs. But things are changing. The western oil majors (though not state-run goliaths in China and India) are coming to see more transparency as inevitable or even desirable. As Mr Madec puts it, Exxon wants oil revenues to “go to the people rather than accounts in Switzerland” as it helps secure his firm's “licence to operate”. In other words, it reduces the risk of boycotts and bad publicity.
The World Bank now seems keen: “Countries have no justification for secrecy,” insists Rashad Kaldany of the bank's International Finance Corporation. “All of these agreements will be made public in future.” And the IMF is already leading the charge: it required Equatorial Guinea, Angola and other recalcitrant countries to open up their oil accounts or risk ostracism.
The best news is that more poor-country leaders are coming to the view that transparency is best. The fledgling oil states of São Tomé e Príncipe and East Timor are eager participants in the EITI. Some two dozen in all have joined up. Nigeria's recent participation is encouraging the rest of West Africa, Mr Soros reckons, just as Azerbaijan's involvement has shamed Kazakhstan and other neighbours into cleaning up their act.
Mr Kaldany thinks the effect will spill over from oil to other resources. The push for greater disclosure is, he says, already leading to demands for greater transparency in the power, water and construction sectors. If push really comes to shove, natural resources may yet become what they should be for some of the world's poorest people: a blessing
少子化と女性の地位
墨東綺譚という映画を見た。日本映画チャンネルでやっていた。
有名な映画だし、有名な小説だ。ぜひとも勉強のため見なくてはいけないと思って、がんばって見た。
でも、今の感覚からすれば、ひどい女性蔑視と、女性差別で、うんざりという感じだ。身を売って、お母さんの治療費を稼ぐ女性主人公。そこに通いつめる男性主人公。
身を売って稼いだお金を、お母さんに届けるように頼まれた親戚のおじさんは、お母さんの顔を見てびっくりして、逃げ帰り、お金をよからぬところで使ってしまう。
それを知り、人間不信になり、敗血症になる女性主人公。男性主人公は、妻が必死で取り戻してしまう。
悲恋といえるのだろうか。
このような立場に置かれる女性の気持ちというのは、現代では理解できないかもしれない。
でも、今でも親の病気や借金のために、体を売る仕事につく女性もいるらしい。
そんなことをしなくても、いくらでも解決方法があるのに、知らなくて、そんな風に追い詰められてしまうとしたら、悲惨だ。
遊びや、男に貢ぐために体を売る子もいるらしい。それも、また最悪だ。
女性は馬鹿なほうがかわいいとかいうが、そんな女性たちは馬鹿で無知なために悲惨な状況から抜けられない。
今の世の中、なんといっても女性のほうがまだいろいろ不利な立場にある。
そして、手っ取り早くお金を稼ぐために、身を売るとしたら、まともな家庭を作り子供を育てる人がどんどん減ってしまうだろう。
女性の体を買う人、女性の体を利用して儲ける人、そういう仕組みが存在するのだ。
政治家だって、愛人スキャンダルにもかかわらず、復活した人もいるのだから。
このまま日本の少子化がすすめば、日本は人口がどんどん減少し、滅んでしまうのだろう。
目先の利益で、男性ばかり得をするような仕組みも問題だ。
おまけに、働いている女性は、出産すると、解雇されたり、給料カットされたり、出世できないといわれたりする。子供を育てながら、仕事もできるような社会にならなければ、少子化は止まらないだろう。