Britain, Business, China, Economic, European Union, Government, International trade, Politics, Society

A ruthless new Chinese plan that is grinding the West down

CHINA

Intro: China is single-mindedly building enough industrial might to supply the world with just about every major manufacturing product it needs

The most important economic story of our time, by far, is seriously under-covered by both the media and our political class which has largely been ignored. Preferring to obsess, debate, and divide over mere fripperies while a clear and present danger gathers momentum to our economy, our prosperity, and our very way of life.

The scale of the threat is now unmistakeable: China is single-mindedly building enough industrial might to supply the world with just about every major manufacturing product it needs.

Beijing has more capacity than it needs to meet the demands of its domestic markets. Yet it is still adding more at a rapid rate – all of it geared to exports.

It is the clear policy of President Xi Jinping to make the rest of the world dependent on Chinese exports, destroying much of Western business in the process.

It is no less than a bid for global economic domination, with all the global political power that would follow – without the necessity of a shot being fired.

And, so far, partly thanks to the entrenched myopia of feckless politicians on both sides of the Atlantic, it’s proceeding apace without hindrance.

What’s new? you might say. Isn’t it apparent that we have already lived through what we now call China Shock 1.0, an era which started about 25 years ago when Beijing was granted access to global markets?

The world was quickly flooded with cheap Chinese products that not only drove down prices but also drove many Western companies out of business and workers out of jobs.

Well, yes reader, we have and, despite all the pain and disruption it caused, there was never much pushback from the West. True, there were losers, from America’s mid-West to the textile towns of northern England, where blue-collar communities suffered.

But undoubtedly there were more winners from the lower prices and our political masters on both sides of the Atlantic thought what China was exporting – clothes, toys, furniture, household appliances – were not the sort of goods advanced economies in the 21st century should be involved in making anyway. So we just grew to live with it. China Shock 1.0 became the status quo.

It’s now being superseded by China Shock 2.0, an even bigger disruption and far more of a threat because it targets the advanced industries in which the West thought its future lay.

TWO

We’re talking the sort of sophisticated, high-end manufacturing of goods such as precision machine tools, robotic arms for assembly lines, electric vehicles (EVs), the new breed of batteries they require and a new generation of pharmaceuticals.

China is long past the stage of contenting itself by creating the capacity to supply its own needs for these products. It’s building enough to supply the world. A pipe dream? Far from it – it’s already happening.

China can already build enough EVs to supply the entire European market. That’s ten million cars a year. It will soon have enough capacity to meet the global demand for EVs – and the batteries that make up so much of their value.

Indeed, such is the size of Chinese capacity in EVs and their batteries, not to mention their competitive edge, there is really no scope for anybody else to enter the market at scale. We are approaching an age in which the vast majority of EVs and nearly all the key components in them will be Chinese.

That’s already true of solar panels. Fifteen years ago, Europe – especially Germany – had a thriving solar panel industry. Then China entered the fray. There is now no European solar panel industry worth talking about. Wind turbines will be next.

Perhaps most concerning of all, China is building up an unbeatable lead in the market for precision machine tools and advanced industrial robotics. That’s what makes the threat of China Shock 2.0 so much more existential than China Shock 1.0. We’re no longer talking about cheap clothes for teenagers or toys for children. We’re talking about the industries of tomorrow.

To understand more clearly what’s happening, let’s go, briefly, to two places.

First, Dongyuan in Guangdong Province, just north of Hong Kong. This town used to be full of factories churning out cheap toys, shoes, clothes, and appliances for Western markets. No longer.

Now it’s a “factory for factories” making high-value capital goods for global industry from machine tools to robotic arms and microchips – exactly the sort of advanced manufacturing Germany and Japan used to dominate.

Now let’s go to Dresden in Germany, home to Volkswagen’s showcase plant known as the Transparent Factory, so called because it was designed with glass walls to let the public watch workers and machines assemble VW’s world-beating cars.

Except there’s no point going there – because car production ceased last December. Reeling from China Shock 2.0, VW is now slashing tens of thousands of jobs in Germany, closing plants and, to cap it all, is opening an export hub in China from which to supply global markets. Just days ago, VW announced that 50,000 workers will lose their jobs. The company’s share price reacted favourably.

The plight of VW is the plight of German industry. Last year, Germany lost 150,000 skilled, well-paid industrial jobs. This year, it’s still losing them at a rate of 10,000 a month.

THREE

Politicians in Baden-Wurttemberg, Germany’s hitherto prosperous manufacturing heartland, now speak openly of it becoming the “Detroit of Europe”. This is a reference to the US city nicknamed “Motown” thanks to its domination of car manufacturing, which saw its population decline from close to two million in the 1950s to just over 600,000 in 2020 as the car giants moved out.

That prospect tells us something else about China Shock 2.0. Whereas the first shock took more of a toll in America, where there was more low-end manufacturing than in Europe, it is advanced manufacturing in Europe that will bear the brunt of the second Chinese wave.

We can date the start of China Shock 2.0 to 2021 when, in the wake of the world’s biggest ever property crash, President Xi decided it was time to move resources out of property and into advanced manufacturing. That was only five years ago. And yet there’s already been an explosion of Chinese exports to Europe.

The European Union runs a trade deficit with China of one billion euros per day. It’s heading for an annual deficit of half a trillion euros next year – twice the pre-Covid deficit. And, even though we’re only in the early days of the shock, it’s already exacting a grim economic toll.

Bankruptcies and insolvencies in the EU are at a ten-year high. European growth is sluggish. Industrial production is actually declining. Germany now imports more sophisticated capital goods from China than it exports to China – Shock 2.0 in action.

America erected trade barriers to China Shock 2.0, including a 100 per cent tariff on Chinese EVs. Other Chinese products face tariffs of around 25 per cent, far higher than European tariffs where, par for the course, the EU has dithered in its response to China. It’s still dithering, making Europe a much softer target.

It’s not as if the EU hasn’t been warned. France’s official planning agency starkly reported earlier this year that, without action, Europe was heading for “industrial devastation”.

Entire chunks of European industry – cars, machine tools, wind turbines – would go the way of European solar panels. “Rapid industrial wipeout in under a decade” beckoned, with 55 per cent of European manufacturing at risk (60 per cent in Germany).

But what of the UK? The good news (in relative terms) is that because we don’t have that much advanced manufacturing we are less exposed than the EU in general and Germany in particular.

The bad news is that we’re governed by politicians who have no idea there is any kind of threat or, if they do, simply ignore it.

In fact, it’s worse than that. Far from even modestly protecting our interests, we’ve reduced tariffs on imports from China to facilitate the Government’s bizarre dash for Net Zero.

As energy secretary, Ed Miliband actually embraced China Shock 2.0 to further his own green goals. We stuck with a standard 10 per cent tariff on cheap Chinese EVs because he wanted people to buy them.

And, not content with making it easy for Chinese EVs, the Government decided to penalise our own carmakers for not selling enough EVs.

In July, British vehicle output was a mere 64,000 units, down 12 per cent on the year. A decade ago we produced 1.5 million vehicles a year.

This year it is expected we won’t produce even half of that. In 2025, we managed under 720,000, down 8 per cent on the year before. Thanks to China Shock 2.0 and our own Government’s folly, we probably will not have a car industry at all in ten years’ time.

As for so-called “green jobs”, we already have precious few of them. Thanks to the Net Zero obsession, our green supply chains for all manner of things – batteries, cathodes, anodes, solar/wind turbine components, critical minerals – are already China-dominated.

Had we taken our time, we could have fostered more domestic suppliers. Instead, the Government decided to embrace cheap Chinese green tech to meet its artificial climate targets, which have taken precedence over everything else.

There is no coming back from this. We have favoured China and sacrificed any hope of a new industrial base, while jeopardising our security. So much for industrial policy, despite rampant talk of it in Labour circles. Not so in China, where industrial policy is paramount. The scale of the commitment is breathtaking – even frightening. There was a time when Chinese industrial policy was confined to backing a few favoured sectors.

No longer. The whole might of Chinese Communism – state-owned banks, state-owned companies, local government – has been mobilised in pursuit of what’s being called “the industrial policy of everything”. China’s economic growth, which secures the continued dominance of the Communist Party, is increasingly dependent on exports.

China’s currency, the yuan, is manipulated down against other currencies to make these exports even more competitive – and to make goods that China imports more expensive.

There you have another key feature of China’s second shock: it isn’t just the biggest export drive the world has ever seen, it’s a strategy to reduce China’s dependence on imports. Investment has been showered on those parts of advanced manufacturing which Beijing perceives to be over-dependent on imports.

Replace imports with homegrown production, keep the currency cheap to favour exports and, voila, you have a modern mercantilism – an ancient economic doctrine which promotes exports above all else and which fell out of favour years ago.

President Xi has revived it and combined it with autarky, a policy of national self-sufficiency. Those who think we can live with China Shock 2.0 because China’s massive domestic market will still be open to our exporters really have no idea what they’re talking about.

First, it was never open in the first place. Second, the shutters are coming down. Third, President Xi thinks autarky works.

FOUR

China now runs a traded goods surplus of $1.2 trillion (£900 million) with the rest of the world, with bigger surpluses to come. Xi isn’t doing this just because he can. He’s doing it because with economic dominance comes global political power.

When you dominate global trade the way China envisages, you dominate global supply chains. Just as America has projected its power and influence through its effective control of the global financial system so China aims to do the same through its control of global supply chains.

It’s already flexed its muscles. Japan learned how vulnerable it was to Chinese supply chains when it recently had the temerity to stand up for Taiwan.

The EU fears retaliation if it takes a tough line against China. Even America has backed off confronting China on trade. Say hello to the shape of things to come.

We are in no position to deal with it. The EU is rudderless. America is run by a President who prefers to pick fights with allies rather than build the united front needed to confront China Shock 2.0. Our own political leadership could not be less equipped to rise to the challenge.

By the time they grasp the implications of 2.0, we’ll be on to China Shock 3.0. It’s already stacking up. This won’t involve Chinese exports of EVs or robotic arms. Not a single container ship will be involved.

It will be the export of the operating system itself. Chinese-built AI models embedded in the software running Western factories, Chinese-standard batteries and chips wired into the next generation of Western infrastructure and EVs. Chinese firms setting the technical rules the rest of us will have to follow because, by then, there will be no alternative supplier left standing.

Beijing will own the plumbing of the modern global economy. Domestic politicians in the West will be left talking about issues that have little or no significance.

Standard
Britain, Economic, Government, International trade, Politics, Society, Technology

Wresting opportunity from this geopolitical crisis

GEOPOLITICS

Intro: If Britain is nimble and responsive to this global crisis it can be a winner in an era beset by conflict. Confident governments that circumvent risk will benefit handsomely

Amid the geopolitical storms and instability emanating from Ukraine to the Strait of Hormuz, flickers of light are piercing the gloom. To paraphrase Charles Darwin, it is not the strongest that survive, but those most responsive to change. So too, with nation states. Mid-ranking powers are navigating independent paths to mitigate risks and grasping opportunities lacing the chaos. There are lessons here for Britain.

In Ukraine, necessity has proved the mother of invention. Since Russia’s invasion, Ukraine has revolutionised its industrial-defence base, changing the face of global warfare. In 2024, Ukraine conducted the first fully autonomous drone strikes on Russian targets. The scale of innovation is equally dramatic. Ukraine has reduced its reliance on foreign-supplied military hardware, from 54 per cent to 18 per cent, in three years. Now, Gulf states are queuing up to buy its drones to defend themselves against Iran.

Such rugged self-reliance and determination persuaded the United Arab Emirates (UAE) to leave OPEC, the 12-country cartel that fixes oil prices and supply. “Opexit” will enable the UAE to increase its oil production by around 40 per cent, and help to ease global shortages. In doing so, the UAE has derided regional rivals, deepened ties with the US and Israel, and signed a defence pact with Ukraine. These moves are highly controversial for a mid-sized power under lethal fire – responding with vision and self-confidence.

The trend is not limited to those facing military pressure. When China responded to Australian criticism over Covid in 2020 by imposing tariffs, the government in Canberra reduced its dependency on China. It expanded trade with South-East Asia, and signed Aukus, the defence co-operation pact with Britain and the US.

In the wake of US tariffs, Canada signed a dozen new free trade deals, and launched a sovereign wealth fund to boost critical mineral supply chains with allies. It has ramped up defence spending, and is partnering with innovators in defence tech. 

The emerging trend undermines lazy assumptions that mid-sized nations must choose between or bow to larger powers. Confident governments that manoeuvre nimbly can circumvent risk. By co-operating in clusters with like-minded partners, they can seize the opportunities accompanying geopolitical ructions.

There are clear lessons for Britain. Since 2019, UK trade has increased – measured by volume or as a proportion of GDP. The latest United Nations statistics show that, since its departure from the EU, Britain rose from seventh to fourth place in the global trade rankings, spurred on by trade deals with Australia, India, and the 11 countries of the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership. As a services-oriented economy, the UK should strike further deals from the Gulf to South America.

UK trade objectives, however, must play to our comparative advantages. London remains the second-largest financial centre in the world, contributing 20 per cent more to the UK economy than it did in 2016. We can build on this by securing greater market access abroad. Reform at home would help, too. With public finances strained, state support should focus on sectors where the UK offers global leadership from life sciences to AI, for example, to make it easier for large funds to invest in data centres and defence procurement.

As the conflict in Iran shows, the global economy is still acutely reliant on traditional maritime supply chains. Britain has a long history as a leading maritime nation, and UK firms – like GB Global – are looking to high-tech logistics and modular methods of shipbuilding to mitigate these risks. The Government can do more to support this strategic sector, in ways that would boost tax revenue.

If Britain aims to lead in innovation, we need a reliable supply of critical minerals. Similarly, Europe-wide efforts to rebuild defence capabilities will fail without a stable supply of heavy rare earths.

While the West lags behind China by around 20 years in the race to mine and refine these commodities, Europeans have been slower to respond than the US, Canada, Japan, and Australia. The UK has some natural resource and refining capacity, but is yet to translate strategic objectives into operational delivery. One option is to help finance projects abroad in return for the off-take needed to service industry.

Likewise, in defence tech there is a UK hub emerging in Swindon, but it needs a technical college to provide the skills, faster procurement decision-making, and a revamp of the electricity grid to attract businesses.

The splintering of the post-1945 international order has sent waves of uncertainty around the world. Yet mid-sized countries can navigate turbulent geopolitical waters, but only if they face the new realities and play to their strengths.

Standard
China, Digital Economy, Economic, International trade, United States

Essay: Hormuz has exposed flaws in Beijing’s economic model

CHINA’S ECONOMIC MODEL

Intro: As the US president prepares to visit Beijing, he may have ended China’s decades-long growth miracle. Trump’s war on Iran, and especially the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, has China in a chokehold

In the modern era, we have witnessed among many things, a robot that can win a half-marathon, a pilot-less plane, a soap opera made by AI, and an electric supercar with a top speed of 308 miles per hour.

Whenever a new bit of Chinese-made tech goes viral online, it seems to be something that goes further, faster, or smarter than ever before. And every time, it feels like a silicon-made metaphor for China’s coming of age as a global superpower.

As Donald Trump prepares to visit Beijing this month, he confronts a Communist Party regime that, on the face of it, looks on the up. Beijing controls access to critical minerals used by his military, and holds at least $700bn (£517bn) in outstanding loans to his government.

Little wonder that, even as he pours scorn on Sir Keir Starmer, Emmanuel Macron, Friedrich Merz and Mark Carney, Trump deferentially refers to his Chinese counterpart Xi Jinping as “the Highly Respected President of China”.

However, that doesn’t mean Trump is making things easy for Xi.

First he choked off the half-million daily barrels of oil that China was buying from Venezuela.

Now, his attacks on Iran, leading to the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, has squeezed another 40pc of Chinese crude supply.

An oil crunch is never good news, but Beijing was prepared for this. Through price caps, export bans, fuel stockpiles and home-grown alternatives to imported oil and gas, China has managed to stave off the early economic threat from the Iran War.

If the conflict drags on and the Strait of Hormuz remains closed, however, China could start to feel the pinch.  

A global slowdown or recession could cut demand for its exports, which have been almost single-handedly propping up the Chinese economy ever since the country’s great property crash of 2021.

And if that happens, Xi may struggle to keep a lid on three ticking time bombs sitting beneath China’s economy: its reliance on bloated factories churning out exports; its spiralling budget debts; and its alarmingly shrinking population.

Xi hopes to diffuse these problems by winning the global race on artificial intelligence, quantum computing, and robotics. But the Communist Party is also eager to stay in control, so it may struggle to make the most of this disruptive juggernaut.

The war against Iran isn’t going to plan for Trump. Yet whatever his intentions were, he may have triggered the tripwire that will blow up China’s decades-long growth miracle.

And this won’t be the only consequence of the Iran conflict that Xi is currently weighing up.

As ever, his thoughts will have quickly turned to Taiwan – an island whose reunification, he has previously said, is a task for his generation to fulfil.

He might like what he sees. The war in the Gulf may divert America’s attention, money, and resources away from the Pacific. It may strain alliances in which Taiwan has put faith.

If Iran’s asymmetric resistance to superior US forces is a play-book for Taipei, then Beijing can pick up strategies and tactics on how to push past it.

Chatham House, a think tank, says that a world in which the Trump administration is expressing a lot of transactionalism, and with the US maybe diminished by its failure in Iran, all of this opens up possibilities for Beijing vis-à-vis Taiwan.

Perhaps this is why Xi has been relatively quiet on Iran. Since the war began on February 28 he has only once picked up the megaphone, urging a swift reopening of Hormuz. This is likely to remain his top priority – the Chinese economy, and his regime’s legitimacy, may yet depend on it.

Economic shock

On Zhihu, a Reddit-style Chinese social media site, users enjoying a cloak of anonymity are swapping stories on the impact of the US-Iran war.

One user wrote: “My industry uses plastic as a raw material… Since plastic is a derivative of oil, the cost of raw materials has doubled and changes three times a day, with no stable price. As a result, global customers have stopped placing orders because they dare not order.

“Work has stalled, and the long-term high-pressure work is exhausting. I can’t change natural disasters or man-made calamities. Fine, I’ll go relax for a few days. But I realised that air ticket prices have also gone absurdly high, so I can’t go out.

“I have no choice but to squat every day in front of the Longjiang Braised Pork Leg Rice stall downstairs, asking, ‘Is it half price after 8pm?’”

China is powerfully exposed to the current of high costs rippling out from the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, the vital conduit for oil, gas, petroleum products, and fertiliser. China imports about 70pc of the oil it needs, of which about half comes from the Persian Gulf. Its shipments from there slumped by a third in March from a year earlier, and that number doesn’t even include the illicit Iranian oil.

On the gas front, about half of China’s gas imports come via pipelines from Russia, Myanmar and central Asia, with the rest arriving on LNG tankers. A third of that LNG comes via Hormuz, and imports plunged by 41pc in March.

For now, the damage may be less than these numbers might suggest, because China has spent the past decade building a huge and still growing domestic gas industry.

This insurance policy means home-grown output now satisfies almost two-thirds of China’s gas demand, so the Iran War has disrupted just 5pc of China’s total supply. It looks as if, in some ways, China has been preparing for this type of situation better than anybody else.

The Chinese have been similarly savvy with crude oil. Last year it bought 11.6 million barrels per day (bpd), taking advantage of lower prices to stockpile almost half a million bpd. By the end of 2025, that reserve totalled almost 1.4 billion barrels, vastly more than the rest of the rich world put together.

If China released supplies from this trove of black gold at a rate of 2 million bpd, a level that would largely negate the Hormuz closure, the stockpile would still last until at least the end of next year.

Still, the Chinese aren’t leaving anything to chance. Beijing told its refineries to stop exporting petrol, diesel, and jet fuel – in case supplies run low. But this has rebounded on Beijing. The move irked trading partners such as Vietnam, the Philippines, Singapore and Australia, whose fuel shortfalls have been exacerbated by China’s parsimony.

China appears to have now acknowledged that its stockpiles are almost too big, and that it needs to mend some fences. According to Bloomberg, exporters have now had approval to ship 500,000 tons to regular customers.

China’s biggest vulnerability to Iran, lies in its reliance on oil-based products like naphtha, which is vital to greasing the mighty Chinese industrial machine.

If you go back far enough in the chemical processing chain, or petroleum products, that’s where you’ll see the prices rise. Access to that is a continual problem, and that’s where the greatest fear is.

Producer price inflation, which was at or below zero last year, hit 1pc in March – the highest since the pandemic. Businesses, however, can’t pass these costs on to customers, largely because they are not spending.

Retail sales rose an annually sluggish 1.7pc in March, and in April car sales dropped by more than 25pc. The household savings rate was 37.8pc in the first quarter, the highest recorded (with the exception of the pandemic).

Consequently, if the situation continues to escalate and oil prices keep rising, then there is going to be some damage.

Exports to the rescue?

China’s get-out-of-jail card is its exports. The country’s use of coal, wind, and solar has insulated its producers from the global energy shock, helping to keep export prices competitive.

Export growth slowed to 2.5pc year-on-year in March, but a key indicator of activity at export-oriented firms in April hit 52.2, its highest level in more than five years.

That buoyancy in part reflects Chinese factories’ dominance of the supply chain for wind turbines, solar panels, batteries, and electric cars. The soaring oil price has brought green tech back into worldwide fashion.

Exports of solar cells doubled in March, and were up by more than a third for lithium-ion batteries.

Nonetheless, this tech, together with electric vehicles known in Beijing as “the new three”, still comprises just 7pc of China’s exports. The wider trading picture will be more worrying for China.

If the Strait of Hormuz remains closed for several more months, the blow to the global economy will get exponentially bigger – and the appetite to buy goods from China may wane. Exports to the Middle East are already suffering. On Zhihu, one post related how a toy exporter had seen a 20pc to 40pc drop in demand. “Even Saudi Arabia and the UAE are waiting and watching, afraid of escalating conflicts. No one dares to act recklessly.”

The real pain could come from south-east Asia. It has been a crucial shock absorber for Chinese exporters who have had to drop out of the US market since Trump returned to the White House. But many of these countries are Hormuz-dependent, and the war has hit them hard.

If its trading partners don’t want to buy so much, then China won’t be selling so much either.

This is the tripwire that could set off China’s first time-bomb. Beijing has spent decades subsidising its industries to produce more and more, but China’s massive domestic consumer base simply refuses to spend.

This means the only place for factories’ over-production is the world market. But, if demand for exports falters, the cracks in the Communist Party’s model will open wider and wider.

The trouble is, the only way out of this impasse could be a worldwide trade war.

A broken economic model

China’s most well-known company, these days, is probably the electric car giant BYD. In just two decades, it has risen to the pinnacle of the global EV market. Yet, all is not well. Its first-quarter profit is down 55pc, to a three-year low. Its inventory of unsold stock has stacked up by 16pc since the start of the year.

BYD and fellow carmakers are capable of producing more than twice the number of vehicles each year that they can actually sell within China.

At home, this forces BYD and its rivals into a price war, squeezing margins. Domestic sales, though, have still declined for seven straight months.

Meanwhile, exports are booming. BYD’s overseas sales jumped more than 50pc in the first quarter, accounting for 45pc of all sales.

Its market share in Europe might still be only 2.2pc, but aggressive discounting in Germany has helped more than double this figure in the past 12 months.

BYD’s story is a microcosm of the successes, failures, and risks of China’s economic model.

The system builds powerful companies, but relies on the rest of the world to pick up the tab.

China’s trade surplus with the rest of the world hit $1tn last year. This is, in effect, a monetary gauge of the de-industrialisation of the West, and the stymieing of industrial development in poorer countries.

The rest of the world’s tolerance for this is gradually waning. Trump may have stepped back from his tariff war, but many observers suggest it’s only a matter of time before China provokes a wider backlash.

China’s strategy is always outbound, export driven, because they don’t have the demand. So, it’s not going to change. But of course, individual countries could change, the world could change.

The reckoning is already approaching. Countries are realising that they need some economic security. That means maybe not getting the absolute rock bottom price but having to pay something in order to have diversified suppliers.

The only way Beijing can head off the consequences of an export downturn would be to bolster demand at home. However, this is now a deeply entrenched problem.

China’s consumer confidence index stood at 92 points in February. That was a three-year high, but before the property crash the index was never below 100. It appears that the Chinese do not want to buy consumer durables; they buy consumer staples, cheap goods that are consumed every day.

Households face insecurity on every front. Their real incomes grew 4pc in the first quarter, but have been slowing for years from the 6pc-plus rate pre-Covid.

House prices, which plunged after the authorities called time on a property bubble in 2021, are still falling everywhere except Beijing, Shanghai, and a handful of other large cities.

Property is still the biggest asset held by Chinese households. If housing continues shrinking in value, that just works against the authorities’ other efforts to try and stimulate consumption.

The jobs market is also failing to inspire confidence. The unemployment rate of 5.4pc is at a three-year high. The youth jobless rate has been improving, but is still high at 17pc.

Graduates of elite universities are still finding jobs, and some businesses are still hiring, however life is tough for young people further down the ladder.

The government has tried to stimulate consumption, but in a piecemeal fashion. Its signature effort last year was a trade-in scheme for white goods, which delivered at best a mild and temporary boost.

Many hoped that a recent meeting of the Communist Party’s Politburo would recognise that the economic model was unsustainable. Disappointment followed.

There were no concrete measures or targets around anything that would boost household consumption, say analysts at Capital Economics.

Without targets for lower tiers of government, they say, nothing will change.

“A lot of the high-level policies are focused on boosting domestic self-sufficiency, on AI and tech development… It feels like those will continue to be the priorities. That might come at the cost of, or instead of, boosting support for households.”

Beijing has apparently decided that its export-oriented model won’t trigger a trade war, or hobble the profits of its companies.

Some say the regime may see more risk in changing course than in sticking to what it knows, and projecting stability. However, sitting on their hands represents the real risk.

As soon as Western countries start threatening demand, China will be severely hampered. It will mean factory closures. It will mean spiralling deflation, on top of the deflation we’re already seeing because of overcapacity and over investment. This will become catastrophic for the average Chinese household.

Two more time-bombs: No babies, no budget

The deep-seated consumer anxiety may be one reason why many Chinese are choosing not to have children.

A recent Rhodium report noted that the 7.9 million births last year was half the number a decade ago. Births are at 1939 levels – below even the time of the one-child policy (which ended in 2016).

As the death rate creeps up, the country will lose nearly 60m people in the next decade – a population almost the size of France.

Beijing has offered a 3,600-yuan (£390) subsidy per child for three years, starting last year. But government policy seldom reverses a demographic decline.

The population loss is going to make the problem of domestic under-consumption much, much worse.

That’s going to present a massive headwind to China’s economy, and that’s why they will be hoping to gain productivity benefits from new technology like AI, to offset that.

Rhodium says this will create a massive budget headache for Beijing, as the government is forced to support an older population with fewer taxpaying workers.

However, Beijing is already fiscally neuralgic. Government revenue is now almost static, with tax income flatlining and land sales declining.

The public debt-to-GDP ratio is about the same as Britain’s. The budget deficit was 9pc of GDP last year, and could widen further. By 2030 this would be entering crisis-level territory.

Meanwhile, the public and private lending that washes through the Chinese economy, putting China “in a league of its own”, according to Capital Economics, is “a signal that all is not well”.

Rhodium’s warning is even more stark: “The era of fiscal trade-offs has already arrived, and the stress is deepening . . . This is what fiscal and financial decay looks like.”

Searching for a prop

Beijing hopes that AI and robots will defuse these time-bombs. Tech-fuelled productivity growth could prop up the economy if China’s population is falling and the world is turning away from its export wares.

China has one big advantage. In a command-and-control economy, the Communist Party can get businesses to adopt AI, and can build out the infrastructure to support it.

The Chinese also seem to be taking to it very quickly, to a greater extent than the average consumer in the US or in Europe. AI is being directly embedded into the commercial stacks that people use on a daily basis, the e-commerce or content platforms that the Chinese use.

The government is also on board. Technology isn’t just an economic panacea; it’s a must-have in Beijing’s relentless quest for self-reliance.

Just days ago, Ding Xuexiang, the vice-premier, said: “China’s AI must take the path of independent innovation, to have the confidence to withstand any containment or suppression”.

And yet, the Communist Party may also be its own worst enemy. Beijing’s refusal to rely on America for chips – instead pushing companies to use domestic Huawei alternatives – is holding back development.

Officials will also be fretting that AI might destroy more jobs than it creates – an outcome the regime wouldn’t be able to stomach.

What you might see is a lot of companies adopting AI, seeing productivity improve, but then not being able to follow through with the kind of lay offs that would result from that in most other economies. And, then, you don’t actually see a boost to labour productivity.

Beijing also has a broader insecurity about technology: it must rely for innovation on the private sector, which the leadership simply doesn’t trust.

The feeling is mutual. Xi’s 2020 attack on Jack Ma, founder of the fintech firm Ant, left lasting scars on China’s entrepreneurial class.

Such fears have been renewed with Beijing kyboshed Facebook owner Meta’s proposed merger with Singapore-based AI firm Manus. Manus’s Chinese founders had moved the company to Singapore, but not beyond the reach of the Communist regime. Some say that if you’re a private entrepreneur in China, what incentives do you have in trying to go global, if this can always happen, and the Party can just come in and say, ‘All of your work, it’s ours now’?

Other analysts are of the opinion that the Xi regime’s innate fear of losing control will be its undoing, and hobble its tech push. The signature feature of Xi Jinping and his administration is how conservative it is. It is not a radical, progressive, transformative regime. In the back of their mind, they’re always thinking, ‘We can’t change too fast’.

China has built a robot that can win a marathon. The question, though, is whether it can build an economic model that can keep the country competitive.

Trump’s war in Iran, if it lasts well into the year, may force out an answer.

Standard