top of page

By:

Kiran D. Tare

21 August 2024 at 11:23:13 am

The Inconvenient Economist

Gita Gopinath tells India to look past tariffs and focus on the air it breathes but speaks from the IMF’s Olympian perch. Gita Gopinath has the air of someone who expects to be listened to and usually is. Soft-spoken, rigorously precise and conspicuously unimpressed by political fashion, the IMF’s First Deputy Managing Director speaks less like a public intellectual than a judge reading out a finding. At Davos this week, she delivered one such verdict on India. Forget tariffs for now, she...

The Inconvenient Economist

Gita Gopinath tells India to look past tariffs and focus on the air it breathes but speaks from the IMF’s Olympian perch. Gita Gopinath has the air of someone who expects to be listened to and usually is. Soft-spoken, rigorously precise and conspicuously unimpressed by political fashion, the IMF’s First Deputy Managing Director speaks less like a public intellectual than a judge reading out a finding. At Davos this week, she delivered one such verdict on India. Forget tariffs for now, she advised and worry about pollution instead. Pollution, Gopinath warned, now sits at the heart of India’s growth problem. A 2022 World Bank study estimates that 1.7 million Indians (about 18 percent of all deaths) die each year due to pollution. The costs, she insisted, are not confined to environmentalists’ spreadsheets. Dirty air lowers labour productivity, raises healthcare spending and acts as a permanent drag on growth. Investors, too, notice. “If you are thinking of setting up operations in India and living there, the environment matters,” she said. Gopinath is not an activist parachuted into economics, but a card-carrying member of the profession’s high priesthood. As the IMF’s former chief economist and now its second-in-command, she oversees surveillance, research and the Fund’s flagship publications. She helped steer the institution through the Covid-19 shock, co-authoring a widely cited ‘pandemic paper’ that set global vaccination targets and corralled the IMF, World Bank, WTO and WHO into an unusually coordinated response. Her intellectual pedigree is impeccable. Educated and later ensconced at Harvard, with an earlier stint at Chicago Booth, she has spent two decades writing about exchange rates, capital flows, crises and monetary policy. Few economists of her generation have moved so seamlessly between the academy and the commanding heights of global policy. And yet, therein lies the tension. When Gopinath urges India to treat pollution control as a “mission” alongside deregulation, she is surely right. India’s air is among the dirtiest in the world and its burgeoning cities routinely vanish under a grey pall each winter. But the sermon comes from a familiar pulpit. For many in emerging economies, the IMF’s prescriptions, however empirically sound, often feel like lectures delivered from glass towers, far removed from political constraint and social messiness. The Fund has long been better at diagnosing problems than navigating democracies. It can quantify the productivity loss from polluted lungs with admirable precision. It is less adept at grappling with the electoral economy that sustains coal plants, diesel engines and construction dust. Advising India to prioritise pollution over tariffs is easy sitting in Davos but is harder to get done in Delhi, where growth and federal politics collide daily. Gopinath herself is more nuanced than the institution she represents. Unlike some IMF grandees of the past, she does not pretend that technocratic fixes operate in a vacuum. During the pandemic, she argued for pragmatic departures from orthodoxy like fiscal expansion, coordinated action, even industrial policy-lite to fix vaccine bottlenecks. Her work on the Integrated Policy Framework acknowledges that emerging markets cannot simply float their currencies and hope for the best. Still, the broader IMF worldview lingers in her prescriptions. Carbon taxes, tighter regulation and cleaner energy are presented as economic imperatives, not political battles. While that framing looks analytically tidy, it is also incomplete. India’s pollution crisis is bound up with urbanisation without planning, weak municipal governance and a political economy that rewards short-term fixes over long-term breathing space. To be fair, Gopinath did not deny this complexity. By calling pollution a “mission,” she implicitly invoked the scale of effort required. Her warning that environmental damage creates “deeper and longer-lasting” harm than tariffs is a reminder that growth debates obsessed with trade skirmishes risk missing the bigger picture. The irony is that institutions like the IMF, which once badgered countries about deficits and deregulation, are now among the loudest voices urging attention to air, climate and health. Perhaps the IMF has learned, partly through crisis, that growth divorced from health and environment is illusory. Gita Gopinath’s intervention in Davos captures both the strength and the limitation of this new posture. She is right to say that pollution is a bigger threat to India’s economy than tariffs. She is right to insist that environmental damage creates deeper and longer-lasting harm than trade skirmishes. But her warning also highlights the enduring gap between diagnosis and delivery. While India would do well to heed such warnings, those issuing it also must remember that the hardest part of reform is not diagnosis, but politics on the ground, which is far below the Davos air.

Students who engineered the change feel defeated

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

Out of 158 coordinators 40 have quit; others looking way around

Students

Kolkata: The platform, which led the Anti-Discrimination Students Movement in Bangladesh, culminating to a regime change and end of the 15-year-old powerful Sheikh Hasina government is on its way out. At least so it appears, given the propensity among student leaders to resign from the post of coordinators.


Out of 158 student coordinators about 40 have already put in their papers. The number is increasing every day, which in a way vindicates that students no longer feel in tune with what is happening in Bangladesh.


Though the coordinators have not officially cited the reason for exit, they made no bones to say that their job has gone redundant, post the formation of the interim government. Asked to explain as to why the feeling of redundancy has crept in, a student leader of Jagannath Vishwavidyalaya (Jagannath University) said “coordinators are no longer needed because the job of coordination is over.”


Prodded further on this, he admitted that a majoritarian voice is calling the shots in the current dispensation. “Those who are numerically strong, be it politically or in terms of community, are playing a decisive role in the current state of affairs. We are closely watching the situation. Nobody should forget that students brought down a powerful autocratic government and therefore weeding out radical fundamentalists from the system wouldn’t be a difficult job,” said the same leader on condition of anonymity


The caretaker Cabinet of Bangladesh under Muhammad Yunus has 20 advisers and six special positions under the Chief Adviser. The team is a motley group but indirect presence or influence of right wing party like Hefazat-e-Islam and radicals like Jamaat-e-Islam cannot be ruled out. Two frontrunners of the student’s movement, Nahid Islam and Asif Mahmud have found their place in the cabinet. “The faces we see in the Cabinet apparently may be harmless but no one knows who they represent or hold allegiance to,” said a source. And above everything else, what is worrisome is the sudden emergence of the banned outfit—Hizb ut-Tahrir, a pan Islamist rganization, outlawed by the Bangladesh government in under Anti-Terrorism Act.

Comments


bottom of page