September,
2003: The Yankee Trader
By Greg Rushford
Published in the Rushford Report
For the
U.S.
textile lobby: the sound of a plan coming together
Washington Post reporter Michael Barbaro filed a story from
Kannapolis
,
North Carolina
last month, documenting the miseries of Americans in the hometown of towel
maker Pillowtex Corp, which has filed for bankruptcy and thrown more than
6,500 textile workers throughout the South onto the streets.
Barbaro reported the poignant story of Jimmy and Verleen Bennett,
two unemployed former Pillowtex workers who now have “slim” options in
a dismal job market. The Bennetts have high school diplomas and lack
either technical training or higher education to land easily on their
feet. “Everybody keeps telling us we should go back to school, but
it’s a little late for that,” 38-year old Verleen Bennett declared.
Two years ago, the couple bought a $100,000 home. Now, they wonder how
they will pay the mortgage. They told the Post reporter that they had
believed the promises of lifetime employment with Pillowtex.
Until now, there was no reason to doubt those claims,” Barbaro
wrote.
Until now, there was no reason to doubt those claims?
Talk about denial. Talk about culture stuck back in time.
Pillowtex has been in and out of bankruptcy for years. Decades of
protectionist quotas and high tariffs clearly have not worked. Mill towns
in the south have been slowly dying for many years — more than 273,000
textile workers have lost their jobs in the last decade. There have been
many warnings over the years that uneducated people in these towns would
be well-advised to start preparing themselves for a future without mills.
On
April 22, 2001
, for instance, Taft Wireback observed in the
Greensboro
,
N.C.
News & Record that that city has been receiving periodic wake-up calls
since at least 1987, when a study called Greensboro Visions warned that
the textile industry was tanking. “So far, nothing has produced a
cohesive vision of where the city is headed and how it should get
there,” Wireback pointed out. But few listened. Now, the citizens of
Greensboro
are paying the price for their lack of vision.
But the textile lobby has had a consistent political vision. To the
mill owners, the cries of anguish that are presently coming out of
troubled mill towns are the sound of a plan that is coming together — a
plan that turns on continued protectionism, with China as enemy number
one.
The plan was locked into place in January 1995 with the creation of
the World Trade Organization and its 10-year phase-out of quotas on
textiles and apparel that the
United States
and other rich countries have imposed on more than 40 mostly poor
countries. But there was never any intention to spend the decade preparing
poorly educated workers to get the training and further education to move
on. The idea was to back load the phase-out, so when the 2004 elections
approached, people in the mill towns would be screaming to the politicians
that they were suddenly being pushed off a cliff — in desperate need of
continued trade protectionism.
In the first seven years after 1995, only lesser items like seat
belts and baby clothes were phased out. It wasn’t until January 2002
that quotas on economically important items like brassieres, some gloves,
dressing gowns, luggage, and knit fabrics were eliminated. Not until
December 31, 2004
will the remaining 80 percent of clothing that real people actually wear
outdoors — pants, suits, dresses, blouses, shirts — all suddenly come
off quota. The political rationale was that politicians would hear the
cries of anguish as the 2004 election season loomed, and would push for
additional trade protection. People in the mill towns have always been
treated as political fodder.
The plan’s working. Unemployed workers are crying. Reporters are
reporting the sad stories, without much analysis. Politicians are playing
their predictable roles, blaming foreigners in general and
China
in particular.
Last month, President George W. Bush’s Commerce Department
started a mainly pro-forma “public consultation” process that is
expected to re-impose quotas in about three months on Chinese imports of
knit fabric, brassieres, and dressing gowns. The president and Commerce
Secretary Don Evans — trolling for southern votes next year — have
repeatedly promised that they would not trade away the interests of
U.S.
textile workers in international trade negotiations. Part of
China
’s price for its WTO accession was to agree that its trading partners
could impose such “safeguards” quotas to protect their uncompetitive
domestic industries, should Chinese entrepreneurs become too successful at
capitalism.
And predictably — since
China
’s comparative advantage is so clear — Chinese exports to the
U.S.
shot up 540 percent after quotas on robes and dressing gowns were removed.
The export bounce for brassieres was 198 percent last year, and
China
’s exports of knit fabrics shot up 234 percent. While
China
only accounts for about 12 percent of the $72 billion in textiles and
clothing that the
U.S.
imported in 2002, the American Textile Manufacturers Institute believes
— not without reason — that in a quota-free world, that 12 percent
could become perhaps 75 percent.
Horrors, says the ATMI and other domestic interests that are
screaming about
China
. But the fact of life is that foreigners are going to dominate anyway, no
matter what the mix of import share is between various countries. You
don’t have to look too closely at the numbers to see that
China
is mainly competing with other exporters.
In brassieres, for instance,
China
competes with countries like
Honduras
,
Indonesia
,
Thailand
, and
Mexico
. Mexican exports of brassieres to the
United States
dropped 18 percent last year to just over 8 percent of the American
market.
China
’s comparative advantage is so strong that even preferential rules of
origin granting
Mexico
and
Caribbean
countries duty-free access to
America
— as long as they use
U.S.
yarn and fabric — still aren’t enough to knock
China
out.
Somewhere in the
United States
there must be workers busy making dressing gowns, gloves, and bras, but
nobody seems to know exactly where. An ATMI spokesman only points out that
“the Commerce department still reports substantial
US
production of these products.” Last month, I made the sacrifice of a
journalistic undercover venture into a
Victoria
’s Secret store in the
Virginia
suburbs of
Washington
,
D.C.
and asked a saleslady if she could show me some American-made bras. She
laughed. I found bras made in
Indonesia
,
Thailand
, and
Sri Lanka
. Then I found a frilly thing made of nylon and spandex that announced on
its label that it had been “Made in China of US and foreign fabric.”
Domestic textile lobbyists also complain that it is unfair that
U.S.
mills have to compete with Chinese mills that are still owned by the state
and hence don’t have to worry about turning profits. This is certainly a
valid point, and one that has been frequently been made by Willis Moore
III, ATMI’s chairman.
On July 24, Mr. Moore warned that “630,000 textile and apparel
jobs will be lost and 1,200 plants will close,” and that
China
could take over 75 percent of the
US
rag trade if additional quotas are not imposed on
China
.
In his day job, Mr. Moore is executive vice president of Unifi,
Inc., a yarn maker that is based in
Greensboro
. Exactly one week earlier, Unifi announced that it had signed a letter of
intent to form a joint venture with a Chinese state-owned company. Unifi
will own 75 percent of the joint venture and the Kaiping Polyester
Enterprises Group Co., which is owned and operated by the Kaiping city
government, will own the remainder.
Unifi is also looking to its future by taking advantage of “the
power of globalization,” according to the company’s website. “We
continue to evaluate global markets to identify potential locations for
future manufacturing,” Unifi announced last October. “
Asia
, which currently consumes approximately 77 percent of the world’s total
textured polyester supply, is a particularly important area of focus
today.” I guess that’s his Plan B: adjusting to global realities,
knowing that decades of protectionism have failed. Mr. Moore declines to
comment.
Too bad that hard-working Americans like Jimmy and Verleen Bennett
who trusted their employer’s promises of lifetime employment, weren’t
told that many of these same companies have themselves been preparing to
move on when their protectionist string runs out. Mrs. Bennett, I know
that it’s hard — but it’s not too late to get back in school.
TOP
|