Person:

Ramseyer, John

They left Japan in shambles. By the time they surrendered in 1945, Japan’s military leaders had slashed industrial production to 1930 levels. Not so with the American occupiers. By the time they left in 1952, they had rebuilt the economy and grown it by fifty percent. By 1960 the economy had tripled, and by 1970 tripled once more.

For Japan’s spectacular economic recovery, the American-run Allied Occupation had apparently set the stage. The Americans had occupied, and the economy had boomed. The Americans had ruled, and Japan had thrived. At least during the Occupation’s early years, the Americans had apparently planned and run a “Good Occupation.”

Or so it is often said. In fact, the Americans did nothing of the sort. When they arrived in 1945, they brought few economic plans. Rather than invent a new plan, they simply helped incumbent bureaucrats keep the legal controls they had manipulated—disastrously—throughout the War. Coming from the New Deal, many Americans brought an instinctive aversion to competitive market policies. After rehabilitating the Marxist leaders and intellectuals, the Americans let them use the legal apparatus to ideological ends. With a Socialist Premier, Japanese voters let them try.

By 1948, the voters had had enough. Under the legal controls, miners did not mine. Firms did not produce. Farmers sold, if they sold at all, only on the black market. With inflation out of control and production stuck at desultory levels, conservatives struck back. They installed the quintessentially capitalist Shigeru Yoshida as Prime Minister; Yoshida promptly shut down the planning apparatus, and Japanese voters ratified the change. Inflation stopped, the economy rebounded, and Washington politicians forced their control-inclined agents in Tokyo to acquiesce. After June 1950 (after it had already started to recover), the economy enjoyed a procurement bonus from the Korean War.

Economists and legal scholars routinely posit an implicit contract between Japanese firms and their principal lender (called their "main bank"). Under this arrangement, the bank implicitly agrees to rescue the firm (through financial and managerial help) when times turn bad. Out of court, it rescues the firm from insolvency. Not only does it save the investments specific to the troubled firm, it lowers the use of costly bankruptcy proceedings and cuts the costs of those bankruptcy procedures firms do occasionally invoke. Given the creditor-shareholder conflicts of interest that arise as firms approach insolvency, such arrangements would seem unstable. Yet according to a long sociological tradition, conflicts of interest matter less in Japan than in the West. According to the emerging economic and legal tradition, Japanese economic actors do face those conflicts, but keep them in check through reputational concerns, close-knit ties, and government supervision. Using two datasets of troubled firms from the 1970s and 1980s, we ask whether Japanese main banks in fact rescue distressed borrowers. We find no evidence that they do: large Japanese firms fail; when large firms approach insolvency, main banks do not increase the share of the firm’s debt they bear; stronger ties between distressed firms and their main bank do not facilitate loans; and troubled firms do not try to preserve their main bank relationship. All told, the claim that Japanese banks ever implicitly agreed to rescue firms is sheer myth. That Japanese banks let troubled firms fail is no recent development; it has been thus for decades. Conflicts of interest do indeed matter in Japan and long have. They matter enough to prevent precisely the incentive-incompatible rescue deals that scholars in the field so routinely posit.