For the past ten years, Japan has undergone aggressive, government-driven reforms aimed at changing its financial systems, labor markets, and corporate governance institutions. Faced with the challenges of globalization and an ageing population, Japan undertook these reforms to regain its former competitiveness. What remains uncertain, however, is whether these reforms will also be effective in creating an environment
that is more favorable to entrepreneurship and innovation. If the reforms are effective, at what pace, and in what shape will new firms emerge? Will Japan’s system mirror the institutions that have evolved in regions such as Silicon Valley, or will it develop into a new framework of innovation?

The persistent decline in Japanese asset values during the 1990s engendered many policy and legal responses. Among these was a series of business policy and associated legal reforms intended to foster the creation of new companies, new industries, and new financial institutions. Starting in 1997, these reforms included changes in how firms are formed. For example, the capital required to start a stock-issuing firm was reduced from ten million yen to a mere one yen. The yugen kaisha—a secondary form of Japanese company—was also abolished and the limited liability partnership created instead. Holding companies were allowed, mergers were deregulated, treasury shares were authorized, and the liability of company directors was limited.

Additional reforms were promulgated to encourage new forms of financial intermediation. Tax benefits created for “angel” investors, foreign venture capitalists, foreign private equity, and foreign lawyers became common. Purchase of shares with shares, triangular mergers, and repurchase of shares were all allowed. Moreover, several new stock exchanges were created expressly for relatively new companies.

Corporate governance laws were also revised. For one, Japanese firms may now use U.S.-style board of director committees, with an upper limit placed on directors’ liabilities. Japanese auditors are now required to be outsiders, and consolidated accounting is likewise compulsory, as well as “mark-to-market” rules for financial reporting. These are just a few of the changes, all of which combine to increase transparency in Japan’s markets.

The results were noticeable. By 2006, new companies were garnering price-to-earnings ratios of greater than 100 to 1 in the new markets; the number of IPOs per year was comparable to the rate during the U.S. Internet bubble; and the mergers and acquisition market was transformed from one of the most moribund in the world to one of the most dynamic. Venture capital firms proliferated, as did new law firms, private equity firms, and foreign banks. Existing Japanese banks merged, new banks formed, and money-lending began again. Some new companies even gained sufficient liquidity and stature to turn their founders into celebrities and some of the wealthiest people in Japan. Rakuten, Mixi, ValueCommerce, and Cybird are just a few of these success stories. Japan is currently in its seventy-first month of economic expansion—the longest of the postwar period.

The future, however, is unclear. As Professor Yoko Ishikura, of Hitotsubashi University, recently observed at a SPRIE seminar at Stanford, “Japan is at a turning point and it is uncertain which direction it will choose.” For 2008, IPO valuations have returned to levels more comparable to those in the United States, and the climate for startups has moderated somewhat. New company startup rates are flat and IPO rates have recently dipped significantly. Some prominent studies of the entrepreneurial climate in various countries rank Japan among the least favorable. Many observers are impatient for more evidence of results from the reforms. It remains an open question whether Japan is being affected by the U.S. slowdown and commodity price increases, or if the country is simply retreating from it entrepreneurial gains.

In light of these developments, scholars remain curious: Are the reforms permanently changing the Japanese economy? Are the reforms sufficient to meet the challenges that Japan faces? Will the reforms be effective? Alternatively, are these reforms even desirable? SPRIE and the U.S.-Asia Technology Management Center, in cooperation with selected experts and research organizations in Japan, are undertaking
a major project to study the seemingly contradictory corporate and social climate in Japan, which is at present stretched between entrepreneurial and more conservative forces.

Japan’s economic relationship with the countries of the Pacific Rim—and indeed with the rest of the world—is vital to all of the economies involved. If Japan is transforming into a new economic culture, an understanding of that transformation is relevant both to global economic development and to the study of entrepreneurial growth.

One of Stanford's many remarkable attractions is the Rodin sculpture garden. And perhaps the most extraordinary Rodin sculpture is his Gates of Hell, inspired by Dante’s “Inferno.” In his Divine Comedy, Dante tells us that the inscription over the Gates of Hell is “abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

For hundreds of millions of people, that sad admonition belongs over their workplace. Abandon all hope … and not only your hope. Abandon your health and your right to associate; and don’t expect to be paid much.

That problem — the terrible unfairness of so many people having to sacrifice so much simply to make a living — provides the focus for the Just Supply Chains project of the Program on Global Justice (PGJ). Because of resistance to such working conditions, and pressure from movements against sweatshops, many companies have adopted codes of conduct for themselves and their suppliers over the past decade. But studies of these “private voluntary codes” have generated considerable skepticism about their effectiveness in improving compensation, working conditions, and rights of association. The aim of the project is to explore how codes and monitoring for compliance might be improved and also to consider some alternatives to private voluntary codes for regulating global labor markets.

PGJ has held two meetings, with participation from academics (from Stanford and elsewhere), NGOs (Fair Labor Association, Ethical Trading Initiative, Workers Rights Consortium), companies (Ford, Nike, Gap, Coca-Cola, Apple, HP, and Costco), and unions (including the International Textile, Garment and Leather Workers’ Federation). Through wide-ranging discussions, participants identified a set of research topics: whether consumers are willing to pay more for goods produced under decent conditions, whether there is a “business case” for improved labor standards, what the effects on labor standards will be of current reorganizations of supply chains in response to growing transportation costs, and how national labor-inspection systems might work better under conditions of globalized production. The next step is to establish working groups, combining academics and practitioners, to refine these topics and start to answer open questions about how to promote more decent working conditions in global supply chains.

In addition to the Just Supply Chains project, PGJ has been working to launch some other interdisciplinary, policy-oriented research initiatives. Along with colleagues in the School of Earth Sciences, the Interdisciplinary Program on Environment and Resources, FSI’s Center on Food Security and the Environment (FSE), the Ethics Center, and the Woods Institute, PGJ is a partner in an NSF proposal aimed at establishing a training program for graduate students in social sciences and climate science on the differential vulnerability of human-environment systems to climate change, the ethical implications of such differential vulnerability, and the role of institutions in shaping the adaptive capacity of communities.

PGJ is also working on a project on Liberation Technology, bringing together social scientists with researchers in applied technology interested in economically, socially, and politically constructive uses of new information technologies (to enable producers to learn more about markets, citizens to monitor elections and hold officials accountable, and public service providers to identify where those services are most needed). Finally, the Program on Global Justice is launching a Human Rights project, with support from the Presidential Fund for Innovation in International Studies, for historical and comparative research on the roles of political mobilization and legal protections in securing human rights.

The July/August issue of Health Affairs, the leading U.S.-based health policy journal, focuses on China and India. The special issue includes an article on China’s pharmaceutical policy by five contributors to Prescribing Cultures and Pharmaceutical Policy in the Asia-Pacific, a book forthcoming in 2009 from the Shorenstein Asia-Pacific Research Center series with Brookings Institution Press. Chapters on Korea and Japan by Soonman Kwon (Seoul National University) and Toshiaki Iizuka (Aoyama Gakuin University) also appear in Chinese translation in the journal Bijiao (Comparative Studies), along with an overview paper (“Pharmaceutical policy reforms to separate prescribing from dispensing in Japan and South Korea: Possible implications for China”) by Karen Eggleston, Asian Health Policy Program Director.

As Eggleston writes in the introduction to Prescribing Cultures, pharmaceuticals and their regulation play an increasingly important and often contentious role in the health care systems of the Asia Pacific.  For example, some economies such as China have extraordinarily high drug spending as a percentage of total health spending; India and a few others host thriving domestic pharmaceutical industries of global importance, while controversy surrounds patents, trade-related aspects of intellectual property (TRIPS), and pharmaceutical pricing within bilateral trade agreements (Australia-US, Republic of Korea-US); nations throughout the region struggle with appropriate regulation of drugs, from patents to evidence-based purchasing (e.g., Australia’s Pharmaceuticals Benefit Scheme) and direct-to-consumer advertising; deeply-rooted traditions of indigenous medicine are modernizing and integrating into broader health care systems; and policies to separate prescribing and dispensing re-write the professional roles of physicians and pharmacists, with modifications to accommodate cultural norms and strong economic interests. Effective prescribing and pharmaceutical use will be central to controlling infectious diseases, both old and emerging; protecting the global public good of antimicrobial effectiveness; and treating the growing burden of chronic disease in the Asia Pacific.

The forthcoming book will explore these issues in detail, through a multi-disciplinary lens. The first section of the book features chapters on pharmaceutical policy within seven selected health care systems of the Asia Pacific: South Korea, Japan, Thailand, Taiwan, Australia, India, and China. The second section focuses on the cross-cutting themes of prescribing cultures and access versus innovation. Taken as a whole, the contributions aim to provide an evidence base for policy while acknowledging the historical and cultural context that makes policies distinctive.

Just look at the number of construction cranes around you and you’ll immediately know that you have landed in a petrostate. What’s special about the Caspian oil giant Kazakhstan is the fact that there are two types of cranes—the idle ones and the busy ones. This becomes nowhere more apparent than in the country’s new capital Astana. The idle cranes stand on private construction sites and the busy ones on public construction sites.

Kazakhstan is probably one of the countries worst hit by the global credit crunch. After years of aggressive borrowing on international markets Kazakh banks have had to pull the plug on many domestic projects after their own cash stream evaporated and it became clear that they would need to settle most of the $14 billion in scheduled principal repayments on external debt this year. The International Monetary Fund (IMF) had been warning about the unsustainability of the ever growing debt ratio for the past two years, but to little avail. Growth rates above 9 percent for the past seven years and great future prospects thanks to ever expanding oil production earned Kazakhstan a credit rating of “stable” from Standard & Poor's rating agency. Now, the bubble burst, the S&P rating turned “negative”, and the private cranes stopped.

The busy cranes—in contrast—run 24/7. No effort is spared to make sure that the fancy new government building, the pavement, the flower-adorned square will be finished in time for the highlight of the year: the birthday of both the President Nursultan Nazarbayev and the capital on July 6 (their 68^th and 10^th, respectively). This simultaneity is no coincident. Astana is largely Nazarbayev’s creation. It was him who anointed the city in the middle-of-nowhere the new capital of the young Republic, who chose its no-nonsense name (“Astana” literally means “capital”), and who caused its population to triple. The upcoming celebrations almost turned into a Nursultan & Nursultan party. If Mr. Sat Tokpakbaye and his fellow parliamentarians had gotten their way, the capital would yet again have undergone a name change—this time to honor its creator more explicitly by endowing it with the President’s first name (there is already an oil field named after him). But out in his modesty, the President declined. With his proposal Mr. Tokpakbayev, achieved the near-impossible: to distinguish himself by loyalty in a Parliament whose members all come from the same Nur-Otan party.

The idle and the busy cranes both stand for different answers to petrostates’ most burning policy question—how to best use the ballooning governmental revenues from the thriving oil and gas sector. Save or spend?—is the 500 billion dollar question (to take the value OPEC earned from net oil export in 2007). Kazakhstan, like 23 other oil and gas producing countries, followed the IMF’s advice and established an oil fund with the goal of sterilizing, stabilizing, and saving governmental oil revenues. The so-called National Fund of the Republic of Kazakhstan (NFRK) has accumulated more than $26 billion in the eight years since inception, and the total value of all oil-related funds around the world is estimated to surpass the astronomical sum of $2.300 trillion. While the theoretical logic underlying the creation of oil funds is compelling, their actual track record in achieving macroeconomic stability and fair intergenerational income distribution is more mixed. As a number of recent studies demonstrate (e.g. Shabsigh and Ilahi 2007; Usui 2007), oil funds are no substitute for the strengthening of all institutions involved in the revenue management and budgeting process. Strong expenditure and deficit control mechanisms are indispensable because such richly endowed funds make it easier for the government to borrow money on international financial markets whereby the fund acts--explicitly or implicitly—as a collateral, which in turn undermines the fiscal prudence that the fund was meant to ensure in the first place. More indirectly, the accumulation of large sums of money creates a moral hazard problem also with respect to private sector spending. The temptation is huge for private (and state-owned) companies to take overly risky decisions in the hope that the oil fund will bail them out in case their speculations turn sour. When oil fund assets correspond to more than a quarter of the country’s GDP—as it is the case in Kazakhstan—this temptation is hard to resist. Recent demands by Kazakh banks to dip into the NFRK for alleviating their liquidity problems provide just one case in point, and the national oil company KazMunaiGas may soon follow suit.

However, spending, rather than saving, does not provide a panacea either and is fraught with its very own set of problems.

First, governments of oil rich countries faces a challenge similar to that of rich parents who want to raise their children to become productive members of society. As the US billionaire investor Warren Buffet was once quoted saying: “a very rich person should leave his kids enough to do anything but not enough to do nothing.” Political scientists refer to this concern as the risk of a growing “rentier mentality” (Beblawi 1990), i.e. the tendency of citizens in petrostates to expect the government to solve all their problems rather than relying on their own initiative. The resulting societal dependency may actually suit governments very well since who will bite the hand that feeds him/her? Innovation and entrepreneurship are undermined and undemocratic structures perpetuated. Second, pro-cyclical spending of highly volatile oil revenues results in a series of negative macroeconomic consequences ranging from soaring inflation, exchange rate appreciation, and a further accentuation of the crowding-out of private investments. Finally, a massive explosion in government revenues (e.g. the newly introduced oil export tariff alone is expected to add another $1.5 billion per year) makes it close to impossible for the governmental apparatus to identify and supervise a sufficient number of new spending projects with a satisfactory social return. The floodgates are wide open to white elephant projects, mismanagement, and corruption.

The Kazakh government is acutely aware of this dilemma. Like all other oil producing nations around the world, Kazakhstan is desperately trying to navigate safely between Scylla (saving) and Charybdis (saving). As a possible solution to this dilemma a number of scholars and activists are now proposing the direct distribution of oil revenues to all citizens (and thus the ultimate owners of a country’s natural resource endowment), thereby empowering them to decide for themselves how they want to spend the monetized share of their subsoil assets.

The only real world examples of direct distribution arrangements can be found in the US state Alaska and the Canadian province Alberta. This option has also been proposed for Nigeria (Sala-i-Martin and Subramanian 2003), Iraq (Birdsall and Subramanian 2003; Palley 2003; Sandbu 2006), and Kazakhstan (Makmutova 2008).

While direct distribution arrangements may mitigate some of the problems highlighted above, they have to be greeted with some degree of caution. High levels of corruption and patronage-driven politics not only undermine the effectiveness of top-down development projects but can also jeopardize the fair distribution of oil revenues. Furthermore, even if every entitled citizen does receive his or her share of oil revenues, the long-term impact on a country’s economic development may be small or possibly even negative because of increased inflation and spending on unproductive goods and services imported from abroad. These considerations are not of particular relevance in the two existing examples of direct distribution of oil revenues. Alaska and Alberta both enjoy a relatively good record in fighting corruption and in observing the rule of law. They are both part of a larger, highly developed economy which helps to mitigate inflationary pressure and the risk that citizens will spend most of their additional income on goods imported from abroad. But the picture looks very different in most other oil dependent countries.

One possibility for addressing the risk that directly distributed oil revenues will be spent unproductively is to combine the direct distribution scheme with certain conditions that are intended to encourage citizens to invest in ways that boost their own productivity. This approach has so far not been discussed in academic or policy circles, but the conditional distribution of oil revenues (CDOR) offers the potentials of marrying the merits of two programs that are generally considered to be successful, namely the direct distribution of oil revenues and conditional cash transfer programs employed throughout the world to fight poverty in a more targeted and bottom-up fashion. A whole range of different design options are compatible with this overarching concept. CDOR schemes do not have to adopt the exclusive pro-poor focus of conditional cash transfer programs. In fact, both in Alaska and in Alberta oil revenues are deliberately distributed in an income-blind manner, staying true to the logic that citizens are entitled to a share of oil revenues in their capacity as the ultimate owners of these resources. Also in contrast to most existing conditional cash transfer programs (e.g. Oportunidades in Mexico), the conditions attached to the direct distribution of oil revenues would probably be primarily linked to the use of these revenues rather than some pre-qualifying behavior (e.g. taking infants to regular health check-ups). Eligible spending areas would be selected based on their potential to maximize productivity gains and could include education, health, energy efficiency, start-up capital for small enterprises. Additional design options worth examining include the saving and pooling of CDOR money, which would allow citizens to realize a medium to larger scale common project within the approved spending priorities. For instance, the most promising strategy for greater productivity in Kazakhstan’s agricultural sector lies in the creation of larger units (co-operatives, publicly traded agricultural complexes), and specific incentives may therefore be built into the CDOR scheme to promote such a move away from subsistence farming.

The conditional distribution of oil revenues under any of these design options presents a promising discussion platform for a new initiative the World Bank announced in April 2008—tentatively labeled EITI++. This initiative is meant to help resource rich countries to “manage and transform their natural resource wealth into long-term economic growth that spreads the benefits more fairly among their people”, by focusing not only on the transfer of oil revenues from companies to governments (as does the “original” Extractive Industry Transparency Initiative (EITI) of 2002) but also on the generation, management, and distribution of oil revenues. The transparency mechanism of double disclosure pioneered by EITI could thereby be used to ensure that all citizens receive the share of oil revenues they are entitled to. Transparency could be further enhanced by tools currently developed by the Google Foundation’s Inform & Empower program.

The implementation of the CDOR scheme could build directly upon the experience gained under conditional cash transfer schemes, including the scientific testing of its effectiveness in a randomized experiment setting. The bottom-up development philosophy underlying the conditional distribution of oil revenues ties nicely in with other approaches to strengthen the consumers of public goods and services that have gained currency over the past decade (e.g. vouchers for health and education services).

With this sketch of a conditional distribution of oil revenues scheme in my pocket (and and unconditional love for the kicking baby in my belly) I navigated my way through yet another construction site to see Mr. Kuandyk Bishimbayev, one of Kazakhstan’s young and rising stars (now the head of the so-called “Division of Socio-Economic Monitoring” within the Presidential Administration). During our meeting I got the impression that my enthusiasm for this novel approach to oil revenue management proved contagious, and since my return to Stanford I have rolled out my networking machinery to spread the virus among my academic colleagues. The time is certainly ripe. With oil prices set to remain high for the foreseeable future Kazakhstan and all other petrostates cannot afford to miss this historic opportunity to promote the diversification of their economies and to create the foundation for a future where oil may lose its dominant position to alternative sources of energy.