China’s national economy continues to swerve;
sometimes decelerating-but-steady and other moments looking
to some observers like it could be headed for a crash. Jiangsu’s situation appears
to be much the same, with
many local housing markets maintaining a torrid pace while service
industries in Nanjing and nearby seem to be slowing due to the recent bad
weather.
Yet it seems somehow appropriate to the
complexity of Chinese local governance that Beijing and Nanjing are
issuing very different warnings about one of the more
promising sectors of the economy, especially for low-income residents: the
second-hand car market.
For Beijing, the issue is obedience to policy
instructions.
The central government is insisting
that provincial governments implement a policy directive passed by the State
Council at the end of March to allow purchasers of used cars to relocate
their vehicles when they themselves move to a new province.
Without that regulation, owners who’ve bought
a second-hand automobile within a 50 day period would be driving and housing
that vehicle illegally; they’d also have to pay taxes and fees commensurate
with its value to the province they moved to, possibly in addition to where
they purchased the car originally. There would be little reason for low-income
consumers priced out of the new car market to buy a second-hand automobile if
they couldn’t transfer title and registration when they joined China’s great
urbanization wave.
So the State Council directive was designed and
decided upon to help that situation, and to “accelerate the formation of a
unified and national organization of the second-hand car market”—a market that,
according to the report in People’s Daily,
deserved a bit more of a boost, as in 2015, the total amount of second-hand car
trading in China was 9.41 million, far less than the 24.5 million new vehicle sales
recorded. It made good administrative sense to issue this order, and that way encourage
relocated residents (families looking to move up to middle-income status,
retirees, farmers who’ve sold their land, for example) to aid China’s faltering
auto industry, especially as many second-hands cars sold are Chinese brands.
But as of mid-July, 17 out of China’s 22
provinces (23, if one includes Taiwan; 34, if one is counting administrative
units) haven’t bothered to comply with the State Council’s directive—even after
Beijing issued a second order in June
commanding them to follow the first one.
Beijing frequently faces these sorts of
policy challenges. One difficulty lies in the nature of the directives the
State Council issues. In this instance, the orders to provinces are in the form
of a意见--a formal
opinion or observation, drawn up to reflect the consensus of the State Council
to take action on a particular issue. Beijing can direct and even demand; but
because so much of China’s policymaking power is distributed across many
agencies, offices and levels, what gets issued often isn’t implemented.
Adding to the problem is that some of China’s
provinces as well as a few major cities are allowed exemptions for
environmental reasons, to make sure that cars there meet recently adopted higher
clean air standards for their areas.
However, as Deputy Secretary General of China
Automobile Dealers Association, Luo Lei [罗磊] notes, so many provinces not implementing this particular policy
is “representative of ‘regional blockades’ [地区封锁]”—that is, when local governments find excuses to delay and
obstruct Beijing’s authority for their own reasons—such as wanting the right to
collect higher taxes and other local fees on relocated as opposed to resident
vehicles. As another Chinese official put it, some of the provincial
authorities are simply playing “word games” [文字游戏], findings ways to reinterpret the new rules just to avoid having
to implement them.
Nanjing’s own problem with second-hand cars
isn’t structural or strategic, but seasonal: It’s worried that consumers
looking to buy a used car here locally won’t, because they’re scared they’ll
end up purchasing an automobile waterlogged from recent floods that hit the
region.
Nanjing officials
estimate that “flood cars” [水淹车] have been flowing into the used car markets here since
the deluge of heavy rain began, with at least 1 in every 5 cars in local
repair shops having experienced some water damage. Insurance companies
investigating claims frequently tow flooded vehicles to a central location;
some of those cars are then sold, if the owner thinks that the cost of repairs is
too high. Others are placed on the market without necessarily noting that they
were soaked in some way. The commentary appearing in Nanjing media seeks to
ease the minds of prospective buyers of second-hand automobiles by
offering clear instructions about identifying cars that were swamped by higher
waters, so that consumers won’t be taken advantage of—and, perhaps more
importantly, don't think they will be.
Nanjing officials aren’t pursuing those goals
with inspections of repair shops, sweeps or supervision of used car markets, or
making sure that sellers strictly cooperate. They’re offering advice to the
public, rather than reminding residents that they’re in command. Authority is assumed, not imposed. At most, Nanjing
is playing the part of nanny, believing that citizens have at least some faith
in the abilities of their local officials to look out for them.
There’s no exact equivalency here.
Beijing is attempting to see central directives enforced, while Nanjing is
looking to make the local more liveable. Differences in scale deserve to be kept in mind.
Still, governance comes in many forms in China.
Beijing, especially under the present leadership, insists on driving all the
time. Nanjing, for its part, often offers directions from a different map. Given
China’s complex social challenges, it’s still not clear which will be the road
best taken.
No comments:
Post a Comment