O que é este blog?

Este blog trata basicamente de ideias, se possível inteligentes, para pessoas inteligentes. Ele também se ocupa de ideias aplicadas à política, em especial à política econômica. Ele constitui uma tentativa de manter um pensamento crítico e independente sobre livros, sobre questões culturais em geral, focando numa discussão bem informada sobre temas de relações internacionais e de política externa do Brasil. Para meus livros e ensaios ver o website: www.pralmeida.org. Para a maior parte de meus textos, ver minha página na plataforma Academia.edu, link: https://itamaraty.academia.edu/PauloRobertodeAlmeida.

Mostrando postagens com marcador James Robinson. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador James Robinson. Mostrar todas as postagens

segunda-feira, 22 de agosto de 2022

Alguns livros que DEVEM ser lidos: seleção por Theo Seeds (Medium)

The 9 books that completely changed the way I see the world

 Vou apenas colocar as capas de alguns dos livros, não todos, com os comentários do autor: Theo Seeds

https://medium.com/@theo.seeds/the-9-books-that-completely-changed-the-way-i-see-the-world-6bd2314ad39c 


domingo, 14 de março de 2021

A quase destruição da democracia americana por Trump - James Robinson (El Mundo)

Por qué fracasó el populismo trumpista

James A. Robinson

 El Mundo, Madri – 10.3.2021

 

 Aunque resulte difícil de creer para quienes vieron el espectáculo, el reciente segundo juicio político contra el expresidente estadounidense Donald Trump en el Senado sugiere que la democracia estadounidense sigue siendo sólida. Los cuatro años de desacato grandilocuente y flagrante de Trump a la tradición y los procedimientos habían socavado la confianza en la capacidad de recuperación del sistema político estadounidense, pero los procedimientos del juicio político parecieron afirmar la fortaleza de las instituciones democráticas del país.

El gobierno de Trump sacudió a EE. UU. con el rechazo activo de esas instituciones, que culminó con la invasión del Capitolio estadounidense el 6 de enero por una turba convocada por Trump. Parece que con el presidente Joe Biden se recuperó el equilibrio

De hecho, la democracia estadounidense aún es vulnerable, principalmente por la falta de compromiso de muchos de sus habitantes con las instituciones democráticas. Mientras Trump trabajaba para desinstitucionalizar al país y enriquecerse durante su mandato, el Partido Republicano se cruzó de brazos o, en algunos casos, lo aplaudió, allanando el camino a la sedición. Muchos estadounidenses y una porción considerable de la élite política estuvieron dispuestos a ver caer la democracia, una sensación que se intensificó cuando todos los senadores republicanos, excepto siete, votaron para absolver a Trump en febrero.

Por supuesto, aun cuando el juicio en el Senado no logró alcanzar la mayoría de dos tercios necesaria para declararlo culpable de incitar la insurrección del 6 de enero, sus esfuerzos para anular la elección presidencial de 2020 fracasaron. Las instituciones políticas estadounidenses prevalecieron y triunfó la democracia. Trump no pensó estratégicamente ni contó con un plan para traducir sus tendencias autocráticas en nuevas instituciones autoritarias.

De todas formas, asusta que un aspirante a autócrata más serio y hábil hubiera podido alcanzar el éxito donde Trump fracasó, no cuesta mucho entender cómo pudo haber ocurrido.

Los autócratas exitosos necesitan algo que se asemeje a un proyecto político integral. A fin de cuentas, el «América primero» de Trump fue principalmente una pose, porque no podía producir mejoras reales en las vidas de sus electores. Todos los autócratas exitosos —como el expresidente venezolano Hugo Chávez, el presidente argentino de posguerra Juan Perón y el actual presidente ugandés Yoweri Museveni— de alguna manera «cumplieron» frente a sus principales votantes.

Trump logró beneficios, pero solo para los ricos, eliminando impuestos y normativa legal. Sus gestos simbólicos no perdurarán y su eslogan «Que América vuelva a ser grande» está destinado a ser sepultado en el fondo de millones de armarios estadounidenses.

Los republicanos harían bien en tener esto en cuenta. En lugar de ello, gran parte del partido, tanto en el Congreso como a nivel local y estatal, aún se aferra a la falsa narrativa del fraude electoral y apoya a los insurgentes, o propone que la toma por asalto del Capitolio fue una puesta en escena para debilitar a Trump.

Esto es extremadamente preocupante. Perón pudo gobernar como lo hizo después de la Segunda Guerra Mundial porque la creciente intromisión presidencial en la Corte Suprema y las instituciones políticas argentinas había erosionado esos organismos durante los 15 años previos. La mayoría de los estadounidenses no desea seguir ese camino, aun cuando sí lo hagan muchos de sus líderes políticos electos.

Afortunadamente, el sistema político estadounidense cuenta con muchas fuentes de resiliencia, una de ellas es la integridad de los funcionarios locales y estatales, como la de quienes certificaron el resultado de las elecciones presidenciales de noviembre pasado en Michigan —a pesar de las amenazas de los partidarios de Trump— y la del gobernador republicano y los administradores de las elecciones de Georgia, que hicieron frente a las amenazas del propio Trump. Otra es el poder judicial: hasta los jueces nombrados por Trump se negaron a dar credibilidad a las afirmaciones infundadas de fraude electoral propagadas por el presidente y sus aliados. Eso funcionarios hicieron su trabajo y creyeron en el sistema.

Pero el talón de Aquiles del llamado populista de Trump fue su antiestatismo extremo. Odiaba al gobierno y no podía tolerar que se fortalecieran sus capacidades. Como prueba no hace falta más que ver la innumerable cantidad de vacantes en el gobierno federal para las que no hubo nombramientos durante los cuatro años de su período; ni qué hablar de la desastrosa respuesta de su gobierno ante la COVID-19, coronada por una chapucera implementación de las vacunas.

Los líderes populistas exitosos, por el contrario, aprovechan el poder del Estado de manera discrecional para crear puestos de trabajo para sus partidarios y proporcionarles bienes y servicios. Eso repugnaba a Trump... y pagó el precio electoral por ello. Muchos estadounidenses enfrentan problemas genuinos y Biden, afortunadamente, no sufre de una antipatía contra el poder del Estado que lo ate de pies y manos para mejorar sus vidas.

La supervivencia de la democracia requiere que tanto el Estado como la sociedad sean fuertes y se contrapesen. Para mantener este equilibrio es necesario un esfuerzo constante que, en última instancia, genera una mayor capacidad estatal para brindar a los ciudadanos lo que desean y fomenta una mayor movilización social para monitorear esa capacidad.

Este es el corredor en el cual Trump no podía funcionar; también es, esperemos, el punto donde todos quienes aspiran a destruir la democracia fracasarán en última instancia.

 

James A. Robinson, director del Instituto Pearson para el Estudio y la Resolución de Conflictos Globales, es profesor universitario en la Escuela de Políticas Públicas Harris de la Universidad de Chicago. Es coautor (con Daron Acemoglu) de The Narrow Corridor: States, Societies, and the Fate of Liberty y Why Nations Fail: The Origins of Power, Prosperity, and Poverty.

sexta-feira, 13 de abril de 2012

Historiadores econômicos vs Economistas historiadores: luta de classes? (3) - The Economist

Fim do debate, e aqui deveria ser o começo: a resenha do livro.



Creating economic wealth

The big why

Nations fail because their leaders are greedy, selfish and ignorant of history

Why Nations Fail: The Origins of Power, Prosperity and Poverty. By Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson. Crown; 529 pages; $30. Profile; £25. Buy fromAmazon.comAmazon.co.uk
THE rich world’s troubles and inequalities have been making headlines for some time now. Yet a more important story for human welfare is the persistence of yawning gaps between the world’s haves and have-nots. Adjusted for purchasing power, the average American income is 50 times that of a typical Afghan and 100 times that of a Zimbabwean. Despite two centuries of economic growth, over a billion people remain in dire poverty.
This conundrum demands ambitious answers. In the late 1990s Jared Diamond and David Landes tackled head-on the most vexing questions: why did Europe discover modern economic growth and why is its spread so limited? Now, Daron Acemoglu, an economist at MIT, and James Robinson, professor of government at Harvard, follow in their footsteps with “Why Nations Fail”. They spurn the cultural and geographic stories of their forebears in favour of an approach rooted solely in institutional economics, which studies the impact of political environments on economic outcomes. Neither culture nor geography can explain gaps between neighbouring American and Mexican cities, they argue, to say nothing of disparities between North and South Korea.
They offer instead a striking diagnosis: some governments get it wrong on purpose. Amid weak and accommodating institutions, there is little to discourage a leader from looting. Such environments channel society’s output towards a parasitic elite, discouraging investment and innovation. Extractive institutions are the historical norm. Inclusive institutions protect individual rights and encourage investment and effort. Where inclusive governments emerge, great wealth follows.
Britain, wellspring of the industrial revolution, is the chief proof of this theory. Small medieval differences in the absolutism of English and Spanish monarchs were amplified by historical chance. When European exploration began, Britain’s more constrained crown left trade in the hands of privateers, whereas Spain favoured state control of ocean commerce. The New World’s riches solidified Spanish tyranny but nurtured a merchant elite in Britain. Its members helped to tilt the scales against monarchy in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and counterbalanced the landed aristocracy, securing pluralism and sowing the seeds of economic growth. Within a system robust enough to tolerate creative destruction, British ingenuity (not so different from French or Chinese inventiveness) was free to flourish.
This fortunate accident was not easily replicated. In Central and South America European explorers found dense populations ripe for plundering. They built suitably exploitative states. Britain’s North American colonies, by contrast, made poor ground for extractive institutions; indigenous populations were too dispersed to enslave. Colonial governors used market incentives to motivate early settlers in Virginia and Massachusetts. Political reforms made the grant of economic rights credible. Where pluralism took root, American industry and wealth bloomed. Where it lapsed, in southern slaveholding colonies, a long period of economic backwardness resulted. A century after the American civil war the segregated South remained poor.
Extractive rules are self-reinforcing. In the Spanish New World, plunder further empowered the elite. Revolution and independence rarely provide escape from this tyranny. New leadership is tempted to retain the benefits of the old system. Inclusive economies, by contrast, encourage innovation and new blood. This destabilises existing industries, keeping economic and political power dispersed.
Failure is the rule. Here, Venice provides a cautionary tale. Upward mobility drove the city-state’s wealth and power. Its innovative commenda, a partnership in which capital-poor sailors and rich Venetians shared the profits from voyages, allowed those of modest background to rise through the ranks. This fluidity threatened established wealth, however. From the late 13th century the ducal council began restricting political and economic rights, banning the commenda and nationalising trade. By 1500, with a stagnant economy and falling population, Venice’s descent from great power was well under way.
Moves towards greater inclusivity are disappointingly rare. The French revolution provides an example, but also demonstrates the authors’ unfortunate habit of ignoring historical detail. Revolution put paid to absolutism and led, after a long and messy struggle, to the creation of an enduring republic. Institutions, in the form of a fledgling merchant class, provided momentum for reform, making the difference between the successful French revolution and failed uprisings elsewhere. But the authors give short shrift to the presence and meaning of Enlightenment ideals. It is difficult to believe this did not matter for the French transition, yet the intellectual climate is left out of the story. History is contingent, the authors apologise, but history is what they hope to explain.
The story of Botswana is also unsatisfying. There, a co-operative effort by tribal leaders secured the protection of the British government against the marauding imperialism of Cecil Rhodes. Despite its considerable diamond wealth, which might have spawned a corrupt and abusive elite, Botswana became a rare success in Africa, assisted by the benevolence of its leaders and by having a tiny population. At times the authors come dangerously close to attributing success to successfulness.
The intuition behind the theory is nonetheless compelling, which makes the scarcity of policy prescriptions frustrating. The book is sceptical of the Chinese model. China’s growth may be rooted in the removal of highly oppressive Maoist institutions, but its communist government remains fundamentally extractive. It may engineer growth by mobilising people and resources from low-productivity activities, like subsistence agriculture, toward industry. But without political reform and the possibility of creative destruction, growth will grind to a halt.
Rich countries determined to nudge along the process of institutional development should recognise their limitations, the authors reckon. The point is well taken. It is hard to ignore the role of European expansion in the creation of the underdeveloped world’s extractive institutions which, in self-perpetuating fashion, continue to constrain reform and development. Evidence nonetheless hints that contagious ideals, propitious leadership and external pressure matter. The promise of European Union membership encouraged institutional reform in central and eastern Europe. America eventually eradicated extractive southern institutions and placed the South on a path toward economic convergence. There is no quick fix for institutional weakness, only the possibility that steady encouragement and chance will bring about progress.

Historiadores econômicos vs Economistas historiadores: luta de classes? (2) - The Economist

WSegunda parte de um debate: 



Buttonwood

The question of extractive elites

Bankers and the public sector may both be enemies of growth

THE developed world has a growth problem. Of 34 advanced economies, 28 had lower GDP per head in 2011 than they did in 2007. Forecasts for growth in the current year are anaemic. This sluggishness is generally perceived to be a hangover from the financial crisis of 2007 and 2008. But might the problem be structural rather than cyclical?
In their new book, “Why Nations Fail: The Origins of Power, Prosperity and Poverty”, Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson, a pair of economists, suggest that many countries are bedevilled by economic institutions that “are structured to extract resources from the many by the few and that fail to protect property rights or provide incentives for economic activity.” In contrast, “inclusive” economies distribute power more widely, establish law and order, and have secure property rights and free-market systems.
In an extractive economy, such as the Belgian Congo and its successor state, Zaire, a narrow elite seizes power and uses its control of resources to prevent social change. Such economies can achieve growth for a while, particularly when (as with the Soviet Union in the mid-20th century and, the authors argue, China today) resources are being transferred from the unproductive agricultural sector into manufacturing. But they run out of steam eventually.
The authors place the developed world in the “inclusive” category since they have, by definition, achieved economic success. But their description of extractive economies should ring one or two alarm bells in the minds of Western readers. “Because elites dominating extractive institutions fear creative destruction”, the authors write, “they will resist it, and any growth that germinates under extractive institutions will be ultimately short-lived.”
There are two potential candidates for extractive elites in Western economies. The first is the banking sector. The wealth of the financial industry gives it enormous lobbying power, including as contributors to American presidential campaigns or to Britain’s ruling parties. By making themselves “too big to fail”, banks ensured that they had to be rescued in 2008.
Much of current economic policy seems to be driven by the need to prop up banks, whether it is record-low interest rates across the developed world or the recent provision of virtually unlimited liquidity by the once-staid European Central Bank. The long-term effects of these policies, which may be hard to reverse, are difficult to assess.
It is tougher to argue that the financial sector has inhibited growth in other areas of the economy. Indeed, both banks and venture-capital groups play a vital role in supporting new companies. Nevertheless, it is possible that the extremely high rewards in the financial industry might have diverted talented people away from other activities that could have helped rich economies to grow more sustainably. Furthermore, those high rewards could derive from “rent-seeking” by the financial sector, in the form of fees, charges and spreads, that have acted as a tax on the rest of the economy.
A second candidate for the extractive-elite category is the public sector. In some countries, such as Greece, there has been a clear policy of “clientelism” in which political parties have rewarded their supporters with jobs and benefits that have been funded by the general taxpayer. In the Anglo-Saxon world, public-sector employees now have more generous pension rights than the majority of private-sector workers.
An obvious objection to this line of reasoning is that there are too many public-sector employees for them to be regarded as an elite. Indeed, if you include the many recipients of social benefits, those dependent on the public purse comprise a majority of most rich-country populations. Such social policies are part of the inclusive model that Mr Acemoglu and Mr Robinson favour.
But it does seem likely that a high level of public-sector employment reduces the extent to which creative destruction occurs and new industries develop. Workers may prefer the security of government jobs to the riskiness of joining new businesses. As European governments are discovering, public-sector unions are often the most vocal in opposing the kind of labour-market reforms needed to reduce structural unemployment.
Just as a ship’s hull acquires barnacles, a government naturally attracts all kinds of supplicants and subsidy-seekers. If such behaviour is unchecked, then eventually the system may grind to a halt.


(segue o debate)