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    India’s government wants to monetise state-owned assets

    IN FEBRUARY THE administration of Narendra Modi trumpeted a sweeping plan to privatise India’s corporate jewels. Past governments have made such promises with little to show for it. Yet this time investors’ ears perked up. Covid-19 had drained public coffers by crushing the private economy while piling costly burdens on the public sector. In India’s business circles hope flickered of an economic reset that might complete the fitful liberalising project that began 30 years ago in response to another economic crisis.Listen to this storyYour browser does not support the element..css-1jkoieb{margin-bottom:1rem;display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;gap:1rem;background-color:var(–ds-color-london-95);-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;}@media (min-width: 37.5rem){.css-1jkoieb{-webkit-flex-direction:row;-ms-flex-direction:row;flex-direction:row;padding:1.5rem;}}@media (max-width: 37.4375rem){.css-1jkoieb{-webkit-flex-direction:column;-ms-flex-direction:column;flex-direction:column;text-align:center;padding:1rem;}}.css-1ff36h2{-webkit-box-flex:1;-webkit-flex-grow:1;-ms-flex-positive:1;flex-grow:1;}.css-11gb3fw{font-weight:500;line-height:var(–ds-type-leading-upper);font-size:var(–ds-type-scale-3);}Listen on the go.css-1xitiib{margin-top:0.25rem;font-size:var(–ds-type-scale-0);font-family:var(–ds-type-system-sans);}Get .css-1jwcxx3{font-style:italic;}The Economist app and play articles, wherever you are@media (max-width: 37.4375rem){.css-1xv8s2u{display:none;}}Play in app@media (min-width: 37.5rem){.css-16pctwk{display:none;}}Play in appAfter months of silence, on August 23rd the finance minister, Nirmala Sitharaman, finally spoke up. The goal, she said, was to raise $81bn, or 3% of GDP, over four years. But rather than doing so through outright sales, the transactions will be more complex—and less transformative as a result. The Indian state will liquidate small minority stakes in a few airports. Other big assets are expected to be leased to investors for up to 25 years. “Monetisation of core infrastructure assets”, Ms Sitharaman intoned, “does not mean selling the assets.”The assets not being sold include 42,300km of power lines, 26,700km of highways, 8,200km of natural-gas pipelines, 400 railway stations, 150 trains, 160 coal-mining projects, 25 airports and stakes in nine ports. In this half-hearted divestment strategy Mr Modi seems to emulate India’s biggest private conglomerate, Reliance Industries, which has sold minority stakes in various bits of its empire such as mobile telecoms and refining while retaining ultimate control over them.This approach has its advantages. Investors get a stable, bond-like return in entities that are already up and running (which removes the headache of dealing with India’s baffling permitting process). The public gets a chance of better services, as new operators improve efficiency and increase investment. In the past moving assets into private management helped spruce up airports in Delhi and Mumbai.Missing from Ms Sitharaman’s announcement was an update on the fate of big companies. Three divestments are said to be in the works, involving the Shipping Corporation of India, Pawan Hans (a helicopter service) and Neelachal Ispat Nigam, a steelmaker. But progress appears glacial.Most disappointing of all was the government’s reluctance to follow up on its promise to sell the biggest prizes, such as Life Insurance Corporation of India (LIC), Air India (the flag-carrier, also wholly owned by the state), Bharat Petroleum (an oil-and-gas giant that is listed but state-run), and even some state banks. The sale of such assets, which were nationalised after India’s independence in 1947, would carry symbolic, not just financial, weight.Observers blame the lost momentum on three causes. First, the government still has uses for some of the firms; LIC has served as a source of bail-out cash for struggling businesses. Second, the firms’ employees are a powerful constituency that resists change. Third, like bureaucrats everywhere, Indian ones worry that a completed sale would prompt endless inquiries into whether the price was too low. For everyone involved, safer to do nothing. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Gone today, here tomorrow” More

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    Why women need the office

    IT IS A truth universally acknowledged that women carry a heavier burden than men when it comes to child care and household chores. It became truer still during the pandemic home-working experiment, and is likely to hold in the likely hybrid future of part-remote work. It is tempting for some women never to set foot in the office again, if their firms allow it, so they can devote time otherwise wasted on commuting or office chit-chat to more pressing family matters. According to research by Nicholas Bloom of Stanford University and colleagues, 32% of college-educated American women with children want to work remotely full-time, compared with 23% of comparable men.Such decisions are completely understandable—not least because besides more responsibilities at home, women’s lot at work can be no picnic, either. Female managers often end up playing the conventional male and female roles, leading the pack while also nurturing those left behind. It can be tiresome to be many things at the same time.Understandable, but still regrettable. Some reasons for that are mundane. Your columnist, a guest female Bartleby, finds that the office offers a welcome break from the never-ending duties of housekeeping and parenting. Other reasons are mercenary. One pre-pandemic study on work-life balance suggested that women were likelier than men to experience “flexibility stigma”.In the wake of covid-19 flexible work arrangements are less stigmatised (for now). A recent British government report warned that their uptake may be unequal between the genders. If more women work from home, and take on an even greater share of family responsibilities, the result may be an ever-bigger gender pay gap and an ever-harder glass ceiling.There is another, more elusive reason why women who do not return to the office are missing out. Not every workplace is as informal as The Economist’s (with its deadpan humour and discussions of muscle tone and QE, alcohol consumption and the equity risk premium). Yet even in duller corporate settings, walking down a corridor, washing hands in the bathroom or making yet another cup of coffee in the kitchen, you are only seconds away from a chat or a joke. That can—admittedly unreliably and in ways that are difficult to measure—spur spontaneity and lead to new ideas.Compared with that, virtual collaboration is like evaporated milk with 60% of its water removed: safer, mostly up to the job but a sterile version of face-to-face interaction that leaves an unsatisfying aftertaste. Physical proximity brings higher risks (once of death or injury by an enemy, today of a face-to-face snub, more painful than a mean tweet, or of a covid-19 infection). It also brings higher rewards, including emotional ones that are no less important than the pragmatic sort.Though times have changed, many female workers, including Bartleby, find themselves sympathising with Irina, one of the titular “Three Sisters” in Anton Chekhov’s play from 1900. Holed up with her two siblings in the countryside she longs for Moscow—not only its vibrancy and worldliness but the opportunity it affords for work. Her frantic desire to work reflects an attempt to escape the tedium of domesticity, and invest life with meaning by imposing a framework and a sense of accountability. Many modern executives, male and female, would recognise Chekhov’s belief that being guarded from work is a curse, not a blessing. The same goes for being shielded from the office, notwithstanding its myriad complications.There are downsides to being a clinically efficient flexiworker. They include relinquishing the daily banter and sense of complicity among colleagues, many of whom double as friends. Women determined not to waste a single minute when they could be multitasking will give up more than just professional advancement, important though that is. They are also giving up a sense of connection to others. Hyper-efficiency and distance mean less opportunity for interpersonal tension but also less gratuitous joy, which is hard to replicate on Zoom.Those brief moments of joy are an important part of working life. It is nowhere and everywhere, like seeing the Virgin Mary in burnt toast. It is to be treasured precisely because it does not last. Bartleby recommends squandering precious minutes, here and there, on camaraderie and pointless glee. The cost, in the tedious aspects of office life, is tolerable. The returns, emotional as well as practical, can be immense.For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Why women need the office” More

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    Amazon’s department-store plans are less surprising than they appear

    “THE WORLD wants you to be typical …Don’t let it happen,” Jeff Bezos warned in April in his last annual shareholder letter as CEO of Amazon. Hence bewilderment that his e-empire is to adopt a retail format that is very typical indeed: the department store. Having helped drive many chains out of business, it is now eyeing the format to boost its own retail fortunes.As a company, Amazon is entering a more mature phase. Now with a new chief executive, Andy Jassy, it is being forced to recognise that pure e-commerce has limits. It is also facing fresh competition from conventional retailers like Walmart and Target that are belatedly showing that they, too, can do the internet well.Amazon’s high-street presence is small. Since 2015 it has opened 24 bookshops in America. Its 30 “4-star” shops, which stock items customers rate highly, function like a walk-in website. Whole Foods, an upmarket grocer it bought in 2017, contributes the bulk of its physical-store revenues, which accounted for just 4% of Amazon’s total sales in the most recent quarter. Its new Amazon Fresh grocery chain and Amazon Go cashierless stores barely chip in.So the new 30,000-square-foot (2,800-square-metre) retail spaces it is reportedly envisaging mark a departure. Amazon has neither confirmed nor denied its plans. But leaked details on the stores’ size and locations suggest substance behind the reports. The first are to open in California and Ohio. If they go well, Amazon is expected to roll out more.Why invest in the high street just as covid-19 has lifted e-commerce? The growth rate of sales on Amazon’s platforms, including third parties, had slowed before the crisis, from nearly 30% a year to below 20%. The trend reasserts itself as people return to shops. In the past quarter Amazon’s own online sales grew by only 16%, short of investors’ (muted) expectations.In future customers will want “omnichannel” retail that combines online and physical shopping, says Mark Shmulik of Bernstein, a broker. As for Amazon’s move into department stores, he has one question: “What took them so long?” The firm’s motive is also defensive. Walmart has made omnichannel work well during the pandemic by melding its formidable physical network with its website and offering a same-day “click-and-collect” service.Getting more physical may not be easy. Amazon’s bricks-and-mortar performance has been ho-hum. Whereas most other big American grocers’ sales have doubled or even tripled in the pandemic, those of Whole Foods have barely budged, notes Sucharita Kodali of Forrester, a research firm. Amazon’s total physical-store revenues last year were 6% lower than in 2018.Making Amazonmarts appeal to shoppers may be harder than Amazon anticipates. It reportedly wants them to sell its cheap private-label garments and gadgets, which is at odds with its aspirations for the stores to offer high-end fashion, where it has struggled online. It is unclear if the outlets will mimic existing examples of the department-store canon, as Amazon Fresh shops resemble conventional grocers, or if Amazon plans to shake things up.Another question is how the move will affect returns for shareholders. Amazon should be able to rent or buy locations cheaply—bankruptcies have left many department-store properties up for grabs. Yet investors may be disappointed that Amazon will devote ever more resources to retail. Many prefer its faster-growing, vastly more profitable and techier businesses: digital ads and cloud computing. “Why tackle a dying industry?” asks Ms Kodali, suggesting that Amazon could have another crack at making smartphones.Amazon’s share price is down by 8% since its latest results. As well as posting slower online sales for the second quarter it forecast slowing total sales in the next. It also warned that costs will rise sharply in the future as it ramps up investing. Physical retail would claim some of the dosh. The irony would not be lost on Sears and other defunct department stores. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Jeff and Andy’s” More

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    Flutter Entertainment, a betting behemoth, is on a roll

    IF YOU ARE going to run a gambling operation, it helps to have luck on your side. Months after Peter Jackson was appointed boss of Flutter Entertainment in 2018, America’s Supreme Court overturned a federal law outlawing most sports betting. For a firm running established bookmakers such as Betfair and Paddy Power, that opened the door to a wagering El Dorado. Two years later Flutter’s $12bn splurge on PokerStars, an online-tournament franchise, looked dear—until a pandemic left millions at home in possession of stimulus cheques and lots of spare time. If the house always wins, Mr Jackson comes a close second.Betting used to be the preserve of mob bosses and back-alley card sharps. Now it is an increasingly regulated $500bn business where ever more bets are placed on mobile phones. Executives at firms like Flutter use workaday metrics—conversion rates, cost of customer acquisition, employee engagement—familiar to managers at Amazon or McDonald’s. True, a certain brand of investor still treats gambling as irredeemably “sinful”, to be lumped in the same bucket as purveyors of booze, cigarettes and missiles. That hasn’t stopped Flutter, the largest global gaming company, from securing a berth in the blue-chip FTSE 100 index in London, backed by a market capitalisation of £25bn ($35bn). That lofty figure depends on Mr Jackson’s winning streak continuing.It may well do. Online gambling is a rare global industry that has been dominated by European firms. Governments in Europe have usually preferred to regulate and tax what they presume would be happening anyway. Operators of bricks-and-mortar betting shops fused into groups that could better afford the investments needed to develop websites and apps. Aside from Flutter, which merged Paddy Power, Betfair and others into an Irish holding company, there is Entain, a FTSE rival, which rolled up Ladbrokes, Coral and Bwin, originally from Austria. As online casinos and poker took off, further acquisitions were made to cross-sell roulette spins to football punters.In America the legal betting that existed before 2018 was limited and local. Most of it involved casinos and resorts; sports betting was all but banned outside Nevada. This meant that as states liberalised offering wagers on sports—as nearly half of them have now done—most of these potential American rivals lacked the expertise to calculate and serve up online the shifting odds on which New York Yankee will hit the next home run. This is precisely the sort of thing European bookies have been doing for years.To take advantage of this “massive land grab” for sports betting, Mr Jackson did what any good gambler does: he took a calculated risk. He prepared to enter the American market before the Supreme Court decision. Within weeks of the rule change Flutter pounced on FanDuel, a “fantasy league” website where armchair quarterbacks speculated (mostly for glory, not cash) on outcomes of sporting contests. Snapping it up before rivals realised its value gave Flutter a database of loudmouths who proved keen to put money behind their bluster as soon as states started allowing it.Forecasts of American gambling revenues are now rising as fast as Schumpeter’s losses on poker night. By 2025 analysts predict that bookmakers serving American sports fans could pocket $10bn-15bn a year in gross gaming revenue, the money they earn after paying out successful wagers. Though covid-19 briefly interrupted most sports, it nudged more potential players to online leisure, which included bingo as well as Netflix. Cash-strapped American states desperate for tax dollars to finance pandemic relief and other goals began to legalise betting on sports faster than expected. A few permitted online poker and casino games, which had also been illegal in most places. That might bring in another $5bn a year to the best brands.Hence the land grab. Flutter argues that gaming enjoys the same network effects as other digital markets such as social media or ride-hailing. Bettors want to punt where others are betting. Early entrants can spread the cost of brands and technology across more users, further raising barriers to entry. American sports betting may indeed be a winner-takes-most market. The share of the big three operators (FanDuel; BetMGM, part-owned by Entain; and DraftKings, another “fantasy” site turned bookie) has gone from less than a third in 2018 to three-quarters now. FanDuel itself controls nearly half the market. Unmoved by heavy losses as it splurges on luring new customers, analysts value the operation at $18bn.Ante climaxFor the bet to keep paying out, Mr Jackson will have to avoid a few dud numbers. The exuberance in America contrasts with a tougher outlook elsewhere. British regulators are expected to introduce new restrictions to curb problem gambling. Germany has imposed new rules that will crimp operators’ profits. That should give pause to those who think American law is predestined for further relaxation: what the regulator giveth the regulator can take away. Few doubt that money will be made in American sports betting, so new competitors are bound to emerge seeking a share of the pot. American sports leagues are all-powerful, and have already sought a levy on wagers. Broadcasters have lots of leverage; Flutter is engaged in a legal tussle with Fox, Rupert Murdoch’s empire, which used to own a slice of PokerStars’ parent company and has an option to buy nearly a fifth of FanDuel.The risk for Flutter is that too much of a good thing ends up generating a backlash. The company has spent $291 to acquire each American customer, mostly on ads and subsidised first bets. If Flutter is to turn a profit, punters must lose at least that much on average. For that to happen, they may need to wager a few thousand dollars. Flutter, like all other listed gaming firms, emphasises it is in the market of providing a bit of light entertainment, not minting gambling addicts. If the bookies are too successful, that argument may begin to sound even more hollow. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Jackpot!” More

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    Apple has had a successful decade. The next one looks tougher

    THE APPLE will surely fall, even if ever so slowly. When Tim Cook took the helm from Steve Jobs, the firm’s co-founder, a decade ago, even the most boosterish Apple fanboys worried that the company was destined to decline. Without Apple’s original Willie Wonka, the digital chocolate factory was about to be run by an automaton who made his career organising global supply chains and scrutinising spreadsheets. How could someone with so little dazzle inspire Apple employees to continue creating “insanely great” products, in Jobs’s famous formulation?It turned out Mr Cook could. As he celebrates his tenth anniversary as Apple’s boss on August 24th, no one is likely to make a peep. And for good reason. He has staged what is arguably the greatest succession success in tech, an industry littered with managers who failed in the effort to follow in the founders’ footsteps. In fact, in pure financial terms, he has been a far more successful chief executive than the late Jobs, who succumbed to pancreatic cancer six weeks after stepping down. No CEO in history has created as much total shareholder value as Mr Cook (see chart 1). When he took over the company had a market value of $349bn. Today it is worth $2.5trn (see chart 2), more than any other listed firm ever. Under his aegis annual sales surged from $108bn in 2011 to $274bn last year (see chart 3). Net profit more than doubled to $57bn, overtaking Saudi Aramco’s oil-fuelled earnings and turning Apple into the world’s most profitable company. Less widely noticed, during his tenure the “Apple economy”—its annual revenue plus everything other companies make on one of its platforms—has grown sevenfold to more than $1trn.Given such achievements, Mr Cook could have retired amid gushing tributes around now (and with a spot in the billionaire club). Instead, he is likely to stick around at least until 2025, when his current stock grant will fully vest. This in turn raises the question of how long he can keep Apple on its stratospheric trajectory. The short answer is that it will be much harder than in his first decade. Many of the global tailwinds that have lifted Apple to such dizzying heights are now reversing.For a longer answer it helps to understand what Mr Cook got so right. Besides being an exceptional manager, he proved adept at harnessing the forces that have powered the tech industry—and with it global economy—in the 2010s. The first of these was the mobile-led digitisation of life. To satisfy the world’s voracious appetite for mobile computing, he kept pushing for constant improvement of the iPhone. Whereas the iPhone 4s, announced shortly after he became chief executive, was still essentially a souped-up mobile phone, the iPhone 13, expected to be launched in September, will be a hand-sized supercomputer with a processor nearly 5,000% faster. Even Apple’s Watch and AirPods, the main new products since he took over, can be seen as extensions of the mighty iPhone. More than a billion of Apple’s smartphones are now in use globally, one for every seven earthlings.Another force Mr Cook has deftly harnessed is globalisation, in particular the rise of China. Even before he took over from Jobs, he was instrumental in outsourcing assembly of Apple’s devices there. Its biggest contract manufacturer, Foxconn, now employs about 1m people in mainland China. Most of them assemble iGadgets. Untold numbers work for suppliers of other components. And besides using China as a factory, Mr Cook saw its potential as a market—now Apple’s biggest after America and Europe, generating 19% of revenue and, possibly, a bigger share of profits.Mr Cook’s third coup was understanding the importance of network effects—the economic mechanism in digital markets which makes big businesses even bigger. That is something that eluded even Jobs, who was ambivalent about the iPhone’s app store. By contrast, Mr Cook doubled down on the digital “flywheel”: the app store attracted more app makers, which attracted more users, which attracted even more developers and so on—until it became the world’s foremost digital marketplace by revenues. Today it hosts nearly 2m apps, which facilitated $643bn in billings and sales in 2020 for app developers, according to a study sponsored by Apple.Mr Cook was the first big-tech boss to signal, loudly and often, that companies of Apple’s size and reach must take some responsibility for their impact on the wider world. Under Jobs, a gadget’s looks were more important than how they were made. Today Lisa Jackson, a former head of America’s Environmental Protection Agency and now a vice-president directly reporting to Mr Cook, is involved in product development from the start. Apple has set itself the laudable goal of becoming carbon neutral across all its products by 2030. And Mr Cook has called privacy “a fundamental human right” and, among other things, forced app makers to ask users whether they want to be tracked by advertisers. Admittedly, being pro-privacy aligns with Apple’s business model, which unlike those of Facebook and Google does not make money by collecting data to sell targeted ads, and climate-cuddling plays well with the sensibilities of Apple’s mostly well-off users at little cost, given Apple’s relatively shallow carbon footprint. This has helped keep regulators off Apple’s back—and made it into the world’s most valuable brand, according to one estimate.In other words, after ten years of Cookery Apple is a bigger and better version of itself, says Horace Dediu, a long-time Apple watcher. That, though, is not to say it is invulnerable. Three challenges stand out: growth, geopolitics and competition.Cooking lessonsOn the surface, growth looks healthy enough. To the surprise of those analysts who have for years predicted the iPhone’s decline, the device keeps raking in money. Global unit sales are down from a peak of 231m in 2015, but only a bit: Apple still sold 200m of them last year. But the market for smartphones will eventually mature. And even if this takes time, Apple will increasingly run up against a problem familiar to all large firms: the bigger they get, the harder it becomes to grow rapidly.Mr Cook has been able to tap into other sources of revenue, notes Neil Cybart, who runs Above Avalon, a website which analyses all things Apple. The company’s services business, including the App Store and Apple Music, has surged from $8bn in sales in 2011 to $65bn in the past four quarters (see chart 4). Though wearables like the Apple Watch and accessories such as the AirPods are a smaller business than the iPhone, they generate lots of revenue: nearly $9bn in three months to June. Last year AirPods ended up in more than 200m ears and Apple Watches on 34m wrists, respectively outselling all other smart speakers and all Swiss timepieces combined.At some point, however, Apple will need another keystone innovation like the iPhone. Hence talk of “iGlasses”, which would add a digital layer to the physical reality perceived by the wearer, and even an iCar. Although the firm does not confirm this, it is an open secret that it has been working on both for years. Leaks suggest that augmented-reality glasses may finally be coming in the next year or two and Apple reportedly has plans to release a vehicle that is both electric and self-driving in 2024. But it is also widely known that things have not been going well and timelines have slipped in the past. The car, which unlike the glasses is not a natural extension of Apple’s current consumer-tech line-up, would be difficult to pull off. Even without a petrol engine and a gearbox, a vehicle is much harder to manufacture than a smartphone. Apple’s automotive thinking appears to have gone back and forth between building its own self-driving cars from scratch or providing the necessary electronics and software to other carmakers.Mr Cook’s second big challenge is geopolitics. Apple has so far escaped the mounting tensions between the West and China, where most of the firm’s products are assembled and many of them are sold. Mr Cook has made all sorts of concessions to the authorities in Beijing, from moving its Chinese users’ information to data centres in the country, where they can be accessed by local law enforcement, to taking down some apps in the Chinese version of its App Store. “We follow the law wherever we do business,” is Mr Cook’s motto.Now, though, the pugnacity with which the Chinese government has gone after its own tech giants must be making some in Apple’s futuristic headquarters in Cupertino, Silicon Valley, nervous. Though it has been beefing up manufacturing in other countries, particularly in India and Vietnam, Apple does not have an alternative to China for the bulk of its assembly. It is hard to see where else it might find one. Only China has a ready army of workers needed to quickly ramp up production of the latest iPhone. Judging by Apple’s latest supplier list, the firm has even increased its reliance on Chinese companies. Of the top 200 suppliers, 51 were based in China, up from 42 in 2018. At the height of the trade war then-president Donald Trump waged with China in 2019, Goldman Sachs, an investment bank, estimated that in the worst-case scenario Chinese retaliation could reduce Apple’s profits by nearly 30%.Apple’s jamsThe fallout could be worse if Apple’s products and services were banned in China. As the Communist Party turns increasingly authoritarian and the West increasingly suspicious of China, Apple may become a target of Beijing’s wrath or the sort of nationalist-tinged boycotts that have hurt Western brands from the NBA to Zara. And if Apple’s importance to China’s economy continues to offer a protective shield, this may anger governments and consumers in the West. According to human-rights groups, some of Apple’s suppliers are linked to forced-labour camps for Uyghurs, an oppressed Muslim minority, in Xinjiang. Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook’s boss, has called out Apple for hypocrisy for touting privacy protection at home while allowing the government in Beijing to access personal data in China. “At some point something will happen that becomes a loyalty test,” thinks Willy Shih of Harvard Business School.Apple says it has found no evidence of any forced labour in its supply chain. Mr Zuckerberg himself could also be accused of being hypocritical, since Facebook is making billions from Chinese advertisers on its social networks. But even if those controversies are resolved in Apple’s favour, they are feeding into pushback against its behaviour at home: witness the recent brouhaha over its plans to scan private pictures on iPhones for child pornography. Mr Zuckerberg’s China-related broadside also hints at Mr Cook’s third challenge: competition. Network effects are not the only thing benefiting firms like Apple. Another is the lack of real rivals. Some view Alphabet (Google’s parent company), Amazon, Apple, Facebook and Microsoft as a cartel whose members have tacitly agreed not to encroach on each other’s core businesses. Apple has never tried to be a social-media powerhouse and Facebook has not attempted to create an alternative app store. Instead of building its own search engine, Apple cut a deal with Google, making it the default search engine on the iPhone (and charging an estimated $8bn-12bn annually for the privilege, equivalent to 14-21% of Apple’s net profit in 2020).Such cosiness is fraying. To sustain trillion-dollar valuations all the tech giants are searching for new sources of growth—and finding them on one another’s turf. Giving iPhone users more control over their data may be rooted in a genuine wish to protect their privacy, but it also keeps data out of Facebook’s hands, which could helps Apple build its own advertising business. Apple is also rumoured to be working on its own search engine.The rivalry is heating up in its principal hardware business, too. In America the iPhone remains dominant. Globally, however, iPhones account for one in seven smartphones sold, according to Canalys, a data provider. Earlier this year Xiaomi, a Chinese firm, overtook Apple as the world’s second-biggest smartphone-maker by volume. Apple’s forays into newer markets face stiff competition. Its HomePod smart speakers came late and did not make much headway against Amazon’s and Google’s products. Apple’s mixed-reality glasses, should they indeed see the light of day, will have to duke it out against Facebook’s Oculus, Microsoft’s HoloLens and other fancy headgear. And an iCar would be taking on Teslas and a car park’s worth of offerings from established carmakers.Regulators may also try to make digital markets more competitive. Apple is expected to win its trial against Epic Games, the maker of “Fortnite”, a popular online video game, which accuses Apple of illegally protecting its app store. Even if Apple prevails in American courts, as seems likely in the Epic case, where a ruling is expected this year, trustbusters elsewhere may not let it off the hook as easily. In July Margrethe Vestager, the European Commission’s deputy head and the EU’s trustbuster-in-chief, warned Apple that the bloc’s proposed Digital Markets Act will not allow it to hold up privacy and security as reasons to limit competition, as Apple has argued in the Epic lawsuit. Loosening of the App Store’s rules and lower commissions (currently up to 30% on most app purchases) could make a serious dent in the company’s lucrative services business.An executive of Mr Cook’s stature and experience may well be able to overcome these headwinds. Whether that will be Mr Cook himself is less clear. He is 60 and has said he will “probably” not stay on for another ten years. This raises the question of who might have the vision and the skills to succeed him. One former executive has a radical proposal: Apple should stop being a pedlar of luxury goods. The firm’s “obscene” gross margins of more than 40% in the past quarter make it lazy, he argues. To maintain them, the firm squeezes developers and suppliers. Instead, it should use its power and cutting-edge technology to develop devices and services for the 3bn people on Earth who have yet to enjoy the benefits of the digital era.Too many Cooks?This could help solve Apple’s growth conundrum. But it is unlikely to fly with its margin-loving shareholders. The possible successor to Mr Cook mentioned most frequently, Jeff Williams, is a less radical departure from the status quo. Mr Williams is considered by many insiders to be “Tim Cook’s Tim Cook”: a doppelganger not just in looks (tall, lean and grizzled) but also in thinking and experience. He has been doing Mr Cook’s old job overseeing Apple’s supply chain and operations since 2010. Those skills have served the company remarkably well in the past decade. To keep thriving Apple’s next chief executive may need a different set of capabilities.■ More

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    JetBlue launches a low-cost transatlantic flight

    PERHAPS JETBLUE believes that the sky is darkest before dawn. On August 11th America’s sixth-biggest airline, known for its no-frills domestic services, launched its first transatlantic flights, between New York and London. The timing seems plucky. America has yet to follow European countries in lifting tough pandemic-era cross-border travel restrictions. Industry insiders think that long-haul travel will be the last sort to rebound. And low-cost intercontinental travel has historically been a tough business. Can JetBlue crack it?Listen to this storyYour browser does not support the element.Enjoy more audio and podcasts on More

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    Should you work (a little) on your holiday?

    AMERICAN OFFICE workers of an envious disposition must avoid emailing colleagues in Europe this month. The inevitable “try me again in September” automatic rejoinder is unlikely to improve the mood of those spending most of their summer toiling. Perhaps one consolation is the knowledge that holidays are not what they used to be. Rare is the employee who leaves all their work behind these days. Plenty of people will at least furtively scroll through emails while on the beach. Everyone has occasionally shirked work. Now many workers are shirking holidays, too.In the olden days, office life used to be binary. Establishing whether Bob from accounting was on annual leave was as simple as checking whether he was at his desk. Then BlackBerrys—the executive status symbol of the early 2000s—were granted to those who implicitly agreed to use them outside office hours.Now everyone has smartphones tethering them to their inbox, and the pandemic means Bob has probably not visited the corporate headquarters for several months or more. Whether he is on holiday or not might be immediately clear only to him, his line manager and the buggy HR computer system logging his days off.Bosses are mostly mindful not to demand that their underlings do anything while on statutory leave. In Europe policymakers talk of a “right to disconnect”, which allows employees to leave their day jobs behind during holidays (as well as evenings and weekends). But the right is not an obligation. And some individuals might find a small dollop of work a respite from their time off. Even the most petulant colleagues can be more relaxing to deal with than one’s own children.A few workers find ways to delete the work email app from their phones. And there are arguments for being a holiday hardliner. Time away from work serves to clear the mind. Plenty of jobs now require a measure of inspiration. A stretch away from the office helps, all the more so if it is an actual break, complete with a change of scenery away from home. French workers, many of whom live up to the stereotype of taking much of August off, are expected to fizz with ideas come September.Severing all links to your quotidian tasks can be salutary for employers too. Refreshed workers are less likely to burn out. Fraudsters inside companies are known to be reluctant to take vacation days, lest colleagues covering for them unveil the mischief. After Jérôme Kerviel, a holiday-dodging French trader, blew a €5bn ($7.4bn) hole in the balance-sheet of Société Générale, a big lender, in 2008, regulators insisted that some bankers be forced to be away for two consecutive weeks so as to make future fraud harder. Even if no one is cooking the books, enforcing a more complete cut-off lets tasks be passed to someone else in the organisation. That builds resilience.What is the right balance? Nobody suggests toiling on leave at the same pace as in the (home) office. But most people will conclude that if a few minutes spent answering emails can save a stranded colleague hours of work, it would seem churlish not to step in. If nothing else, keeping even a distant eye on things can make a return to the job—whether after a week off or even a month—less daunting. Who wants to deal with thousands of unread emails on their return?And plenty of professionals quite like what they do for a living, even when they aren’t meant to be doing it. Staying loosely connected might encourage people to take their full entitlement of holidays: in America, more than half of workers reported not taking their share even before the pandemic roiled their working lives.An intriguing possibility is that the rise of remote work will spawn a new type of holiday. Among his European contacts Bartleby has glimpsed some exotic Zoom backgrounds of late. Some people are “working from home” in what look to be pretty swish holiday destinations. One executive admitted that, having decamped to a Greek island for a couple of weeks in the past, he is now spending most of the summer there. He is toiling a touch less than full whack during the weeks he is meant to be working—but putting in a few hours a day during what is meant to be time off.Thus the binary nature of holidays—either you are working or you aren’t—may yet become another casualty of covid-19. Plenty of thought has been given to how the pandemic has changed how people work. It may end up altering how they don’t work, too.For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Nearly out of office” More

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    How Primark makes money selling $3.50 T-shirts

    SET OUT for a shopping trip with $100 and you can snap up a pair of Levi’s jeans or half an Hermès necktie. Or you could pop into Primark and fill a wardrobe. The discount purveyor of fast fashion, which is expanding in America from its base in Europe, will flog you a T-shirt for $3.50 and trousers for a tenner. Such prices seem too good to be true to campaigners, who assume they can only be the result of corner-cutting in a sector rife with dodgy labour practices. Rivals such as Zara of Spain and H&M of Sweden, which used to be considered cheap before Primark came along, already run tight ships and squeeze suppliers hard. What is Primark doing so differently that it can sell wares for less and still make money?A lot, it turns out. Though Primark looks as if it is in the same trade as its budget rivals, beneath the seams its business model could not be more different. On strategic decisions the firm has zigged when much of the apparel industry has zagged. As other firms try new approaches, such as rejigging their business for the internet age, Primark has doggedly stuck to a stack-it-high-sell-it-cheap approach to retailing that would feel familiar to the manager of its first store, opened in Ireland in 1969. The strategy has limitations, particularly when it comes to new growth. But for now—and notwithstanding the odd pandemic—it is proving its worth.The giants of fast fashion have grown by embracing speed. Starting in the 2000s Inditex, which owns Zara, made a name for itself by raising the metabolism of the apparel sector. Previously shoppers had to wait entire seasons for high-street brands to replicate the catwalk’s new looks. It took at least that long to get fresh frocks made and shipped from distant Asian factories with long lead times. Zara stole a march on the industry by manufacturing some of its collection in Europe, allowing it to get designs in shops in just a few weeks. Like a hot pair of heels, the business model was soon aped across the industry. When impatient consumers moved online, Zara, H&M and others hurriedly followed them there—never mind the iffy economics of home delivery.Primark, which is part of Associated British Foods, a conglomerate worth £16bn ($22bn) that also sells bread and Twinings tea, has stayed in the slower lane. Its bet is, broadly, that shoppers will accept being a little less cutting-edge in return for big savings. Designs are simple to keep stitching costs down. Where fancier rivals boast that every shop has a unique assortment of regularly updated goods, Primark orders millions of the same frocks months before they arrive on the shelves. That is a lifetime in the age of Instagram influencers. But it lets Primark charge frock-bottom prices.This strategy allows it to concentrate manufacturing in lower-cost countries, notably Bangladesh, where monthly wages in the garment sector start at around $100. These are often the same factories used by other global retailers, which ought to blunt criticism that Primark is an outlier when it comes to labour practices. The firm does sensible things like limit subcontracting and conducts lots of audits to ensure working conditions are adequate. And its slower approach means orders can be placed in fashion’s off-peak periods, when factories are grateful for the work. Manufacturers know they can keep staff busy stitching Primark dresses during lean weeks, while slotting in more lucrative short-turnaround runs for less patient brands. Clothes are shipped to end markets by the slow boat.The cost savings are passed on to consumers, with some left over for shareholders. Before the pandemic jumbled up everyone’s books Primark reported a gross margin—sales minus the cost of stuff sold—of 41%. That is well short of Inditex’s 57% or H&M’s 53%. But Primark’s parsimonious nature extends to operating expenses. It has relentlessly squeezed the costs of marketing and selling goods. Factor this in and it ends up with an “EBIT” margin of around 12%—in line with the industry standard.Some of this is down to common-or-garden penny-pinching. While H&M spends 4% of total sales on marketing, Primark runs almost no ads. In an industry that often discounts, which crimps margins, Primark assumes its prices are already low enough. Outside Britain its outlets are enormous—on average, nearly six times the size of those run by Inditex—and often in out-of-town malls where rents are cheap. The jumble-emporium vibe they exude works: Primark sells about ten times as many items as H&M per square metre of shop, according to Aneesha Sherman of Bernstein, a broker. On a recent visit, a young shopper in front of Schumpeter in the queue to the fitting rooms took in 14 items.Where Primark has strayed furthest from the fashion pack is in its refusal to sell anything online, which it sees as unfeasible at its price points. That has kept margins plump as the company avoided a wodge of spending on developing apps and fulfilment capabilities. The lack of an online presence meant that Primark lost up to 100% of sales as the pandemic shut shops around the world. Extended closures, especially in Britain, home to about half of its 380 outlets, cost it £3bn in sales and perhaps £1bn in profit.Hare-brained or smart as a tortoise?Primark’s cost-slashing strategy is so multifaceted as to be virtually impossible for rivals to replicate, argues Ms Sherman. Still, its idiosyncrasies hit limits of their own. The pace of expansion of shops, which is limited to Europe and America, feels glacial to investors—but go any faster and the model’s delicate economics may stop working. Critics wonder about the environmental sustainability of $1 knickers. And new online rivals look menacing, particularly Shein, a fast-growing Chinese super-discounter.Yet the queues outside Primark shops as they reopened after shutdowns suggest that some punters cannot wait to splurge in person. Sales are now higher than before the pandemic, helped by the covid-linked disappearance of some once-fearsome rivals, such as Topshop in Britain. In the world of fast fashion, slow, steady and cheap can be a winning strategy. ■For more expert analysis of the biggest stories in economics, business and markets, sign up to Money Talks, our weekly newsletter.This article appeared in the Business section of the print edition under the headline “Primark’s slow fashionistas” More