With the defeat of Marine Le Pen in her bid for the French presidency, establishment politicians in rich countries breathed a sigh of relief. The fortunes of extremist candidates have faltered since the populist surge that put President Donald Trump into the White House.
Nonetheless, it is hard to be confident that this was populism’s high-water mark without a better understanding of what caused the swell in the first place. The most convincing explanations suggest that populist upswings are not a thing of the past.
It is tempting to dismiss the rise of radicalism as an inevitable after-effect of the global financial crisis. Studies suggest that the vote shares of extreme parties, particularly on the right, tend to increase in the years after a crisis. The Great Depression spawned some of the 20th century’s most dangerous and radical populist movements.
The facts do not fit that story precisely, however. In Europe, for example, populist parties have steadily won more voters since the 1980s. What is more, populist rage rarely is focused on finance. Trade and immigration are more prominent targets. The clearest recent manifestations of the populist surge—Trump’s victory and Brexit—had only indirect links to the financial crisis.
Rival theories blame populism on deep cultural insecurities prompted by demographic and social change. In an upcoming paper Noam Gidron and Peter Hall reckon that right-wing political success is built on a decline in the subjective social status of white men.
Both economic hardship and relative improvements in the perceived status of other groups, such as women and racial minorities, seem to contribute to male insecurity. Around 2010 American women without a college degree overtook similarly educated men when both self-assessed their place in the social hierarchy. Men’s perception of their relative status also has fallen in Europe. The paper links declining status to support for right-wing populism.
This too seems only a partial explanation, however. The recent rise in left-wing populism has been equally striking.
A third explanation is captured neatly in a new paper by Dani Rodrik of Harvard University, who reckons that globalization’s role cannot be ignored. He suggests that populism may become more attractive as global integration matures. Cutting tariffs by that extra little bit yields much smaller increases in GDP than previous reductions, and delivers less-perceptible consumer benefits, but such cuts continue to impose costs on vulnerable workers. Eventually this asymmetry produces a backlash.
The form it takes depends, however, on which sort of integration is the greatest local irritant. Frustration with trade and financial integration often breeds left-wing populism, which feeds on class divisions in society. Latin American populism tends to fall into this category.
When immigration is seen as the source of disruption, right-wing populism, which exploits ethnic or religious divisions, is more common. In Europe, for example, populists have been far more hostile to the free movement of people than to open trade. Faced with both sorts of integration, however, Europe has produced examples of each and America has sprouted competing left-wing and right-wing populist leaders.
© 2017 Economist Newspaper Ltd., London (July 22). All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.
Image credits: François Lo Presti/Agence France-Presse/Getty Images
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