2014年4月20日 星期日

High-speed railroading

America’s system of rail freight is the world’s best. High-speed passenger trains could ruin it
Jul 22nd 2010 | From the print edition



UNION STATION in Los Angeles has been restored as a fine example of the Art Deco architecture that typified California in the 1930s. It has served as a backdrop for many Hollywood films, from “Union Station” (naturally) to “Blade Runner” and “Star Trek: First Contact”. It was the last grand station to be built before America's passenger railways went into what you might call terminal decline.

Today it is a hub for Metrolink commuter trains and Amtrak services to faraway cities such as Chicago and Seattle. These trains have to pull in and then back out in a clumsy manoeuvre. But there are plans for through tracks in time to carry the high-speed services that California is desperate to have by 2020 under an ambitious $42 billion plan to connect San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco and Sacramento.

California's plans were given a boost by Barack Obama's stimulus package last year. This earmarks a lump sum of $8 billion, plus $1 billion a year, to help construct fast rail corridors around America (see map). Such lines are common in Europe, Japan and, increasingly, China, yet the only thing at all like them in America is Amtrak's Acela service from Boston via New York to Washington, DC. It rarely reaches its top speed of 150mph (240kph) and for much of the way manages little more than half that, because the track is not equipped for higher speeds. Acela, like virtually all trains run by publicly owned Amtrak, has to use tracks belonging to freight railways, whose trains trundle along at 50mph; passenger trains must stick below 80mph. Despite the excitement of railway buffs and the enthusiasm of environmentalists, high-speed rail in America is likely to mean a few more diesel-electric intercity trains at 110mph, not swish electric expresses going nearly twice as fast.

But the problem with America's plans for high-speed rail is not their modesty. It is that even this limited ambition risks messing up the successful freight railways. Their owners worry that the plans will demand expensive train-control technology that freight traffic could do without. They fear a reduction in the capacity available to freight. Most of all they fret that the spending of federal money on upgrading their tracks will lead the Federal Railroad Administration (FRA), the industry watchdog, to impose tough conditions on them and, in effect, to reintroduce regulation of their operations. Attempts at re-regulation have been made in Congress in recent years, in response to rising freight rates. “The freight railroads feel they are under attack,” says Don Phillips, a rail expert in Virginia.




America's railways are the mirror image of Europe's. Europe has an impressive and growing network of high-speed passenger links, many of them international, like the Thalys service between Paris and Brussels or the Eurostar connecting London to the French and Belgian capitals. These are successful—alt
hough once the (off-balance-sheet) costs of building the tracks are counted, they need subsidies of billions of dollars a year. But, outside Germany and Switzerland, Europe's freight rail services are a fragmented, lossmaking mess. Repeated attempts to remove the technical and bureaucratic hurdles at national frontiers have come to nothing.


Staggering progress

Amtrak's passenger services are sparse compared with Europe's. But America's freight railways are one of the unsung transport successes of the past 30 years. They are universally recognized in the industry as the best in the world.

Their good run started with deregulation at the end of Jimmy Carter's administration. Two years after the liberalization of aviation gave rise to budget carriers and cheap fares, the freeing of rail freight, under the Staggers Rail Act of 1980, started a wave of consolidation and improvement. Staggers gave railways freedom to charge market rates, enter confidential contracts with shippers and run trains as they liked. They could close passenger and branch lines, as long as they preserved access for Amtrak services. They were allowed to sell lossmaking lines to new short-haul railroads. Regulation of freight rates by the Interstate Commerce Commission was removed for most cargoes, provided they could go by road.

Before deregulation America's railways were going bust (
使破產). The return on capital (ROC) fell from a meagre 4.1% in the 1940s to less than 3% in the 1960s. In 1970 the collapse of the giant Penn Central caused a huge shock, including a financial crisis. By 1980 a fifth of rail mileage was owned by bankrupt firms. Rail's share of intercity freight had slumped to 35% from 75% in the 1920s. Tracks were neglected and fell into disrepair, leading to a downward spiral of speed restrictions and deteriorating service. The term “standing derailment (出軌)” was coined to describe the toppling-over of stationary freight wagons when the track gave way beneath their wheels.


Several factors had combined to bring about this sorry(
可悲的) state of affairs. Services and rates were tightly regulated. Companies were obliged to run passenger services that could not make a profit. And road haulage received a huge boost from the building of the interstate highway system, which began in the late 1950s. Although this was supposed to be financed by taxes on petrol and diesel, railmen saw it as a form of subsidy to a new competitor, the nationwide trucking industry. In a neat twist, the poor condition of today's highways and the lack of public money for repairs have tilted the competitive advantage back to a rejuvenated rail-freight industry.



Giving the railroads the freedom to run their business as they saw fit led to dramatic improvements. The first result was a sharp rise in traffic and productivity and fall in freight costs. Since 1981 productivity has risen by 172%, after years of stagnation. Adjusted for inflation, rates are down by 55% since 1981 (see chart 1). Rail's share of the freight market, measured in ton-miles, has risen steadily to 43%—about the highest in any rich country.

The $34 billion purchase last year by Warren Buffett's Berkshire Hathaway of Burlington Northern Santa Fe (BNSF), one of the seven main freight railways (see chart 2), opened many Americans' eyes to the industry's significance. That America's shrewdest investor should place his biggest bet on BNSF focused attention on how the country's railways have been quietly boosting the economy by sucking costs out of many supply chains.



Coal is the biggest single cargo, accounting for 45% by volume and 23% by value. More than 70% of coal transport is by rail. As demand grows for the lower-sulphur coal from the Powder River Basin in Wyoming, it has to travel farther. In response railroads have invested in more powerful locomotives to haul longer coal trains: since 1990 the average horsepower of their fleet has risen by 72%. Yet energy efficiency has also improved. Lighter, aluminium freight wagons, double-decker ones and more fuel-efficient locomotives have lifted the number of ton-miles per (American) gallon of fuel from 332 to 457—an improvement of 38%.

But the fastest-growing part of rail freight has been “intermodal” traffic: containers or truck trailers loaded on to flat railcars. The number of such shipments rose from 3m in 1980 to 12.3m in 2006, before the downturn caused a slight falling back. Behind this lies the tide of imports coming into the West Coast ports of Long Beach and Los Angeles. A special rail expressway for freight, the Alameda Corridor, was opened in 2002 to link the ports to the big national rail routes, bypassing the 200 level crossings (grade crossings, in America) on the original branch lines that used to cause huge traffic jams on the roads as mile-long freight trains rumbled across. The corridor, one of the biggest infrastructure projects in modern America, was completed on time and on budget for $2.4 billion by a public-private partnership considered by many to be a model for other rail schemes, such as California's proposed high-speed passenger line.



Despite lots of investment—amounting to $460 billion since 1980, and equivalent to 40% of revenues in recent years—capacity constraints and rising fuel costs pushed up freight rates from 2003 until the onset of recession, since when they have leveled off. This has caused unhappiness among some coal companies which have no alternative means of transport. Although most American rail corridors involve two railroads covering the same origin and destination points, in reality competition is limited. Usually one route is more direct than the other, and if a mining company has sidings and a branch line linked to one railroad it cannot quickly and easily switch to another. Even so, American rail freight is among the cheapest in the world, costing less than half as much as in Japan or Europe. After adjusting for differences in purchasing power it is cheaper even than in China (see chart 3).

But the past ten years have seen another source of growth, as interstate highways have become clogged in places and have shown the effects of a lack of investment. Since one freight train can carry as much as 280 lorries can, railways can help to limit the rise in road congestion. Trucking companies such as J.B. Hunt have come to see the advantage of putting trailers on flat wagons for long-haul and using roads only for local pickup and delivery. This move was also spurred, according to Mr Phillips, by a shortage of lorry drivers. He says that tougher drink-driving rules and social changes have shrunk the numbers of “good ole boy” truckers inured to a life on the road. Most hauliers now suffer labour turnover of 100% a year.

Freight railways' very success is starting to create difficulties for them. The Department of Transportation estimates that many are already exceeding their theoretical capacity and are congested. It estimates that lots more investment will be needed, because capacity will have to rise by nearly 90% to meet forecast demand by 2035. The investment bill could rise yet more because of a change in the pattern of trade: in 2014 the Panama Canal opens a second lane, doubling its capacity and allowing it to carry bigger container vessels and bulk ships. Coming through to Gulf of Mexico and East Coast ports, these vessels will increase the need for better rail links inland.

In addition the freight railroads face a $15 billion bill for a new safety system to control trains on lines that also carry passengers or dangerous chemical cargoes. This system, Positive Train Control (PTC), is intended to stop or slow a train automatically if a driver goes too fast or passes a red signal. The bill to introduce PTC was signed by George Bush in 2008 only a month after a crash between a Metrolink commuter train and a Union Pacific freight train in California, causing 25 deaths and 135 injuries. The railway companies complain that only 3% of crashes are caused by the sort of human error that PTC is designed to avert and that claims that the system will improve efficiency on the network are unfounded. Whereas the FRA says that the new safety system will apply to only 65,000 miles (out of a total of over 140,000), the industry reckons it will cover more than half the network. The railways are seeking tax breaks and other subsidies to reduce the cost of complying.

Another looming threat is re-regulation. Fed up with increasing rates, customers, notably chemical, coal, agribusiness and utility companies, are complaining that these are evidence that the railroads are abusing their market power. The railroads retort that despite record traffic and profits, their return on investment since 2000 has been only 8%, which according to the Surface Transportation Board, another federal regulator, barely covers the cost of capital. They also say that freight rates are usually governed by what their competitors—ie, truckers—charge. When higher diesel costs put up trucking rates, the railways follow suit.

Politicians from West Virginia have been pushing a bill in Congress that threatens to re-regulate the railways. The industry seems confident it will not get through, but risks will remain: opposing PTC could play into the hands of those who wish to increase oversight. In his annual letter to shareholders in February Mr Buffett said that BNSF, like Berkshire Hathaway's electric utilities, required “wise regulators who will provide certainty about allowable returns so that we can confidently make the huge investments required to maintain, replace and expand the plant.”

The emergence of express intercity rail services may cause the freight railways the biggest problem of all. The policy is not only laid down by the president but also often has enthusiastic support at state level. The railways can hardly oppose Mr Obama's plan to boost high-speed rail, but they are apprehensive about what it will mean for them.



The problem is not the creation of new corridors with trains rattling along at 150mph. Such lines, like those proposed in California or between Tampa and Orlando in Florida, would have their own track, separated from existing lines though on the same strip of land as a freight railway. The expertise to build and run these lies mainly in Europe and Japan, where engineering firms and the technology and consulting arms of national railways have been eyeing the American market eagerly.

The trouble for the freight railways is that almost all the planned new fast intercity services will run on their tracks. Combining slow freight and fast passenger trains is complicated. With some exceptions on Amtrak's Acela and North East corridor tracks, level crossings are attuned to limits of 50mph for freight and 80mph for passenger trains. But Mr Obama's plan boils down to running intercity passenger trains at 110mph on freight tracks. Add the fact that freight trains do not stick to a regular timetable, but run variable services at short notice to meet demand, and the scope for congestion grows.

Return of regulation

The freight railroads have learned to live with the limited Amtrak passenger services on their tracks. Occasionally they moan that Amtrak pays only about a fifth of the real cost of this access. Some railmen calculate that this is equivalent to a subsidy of about $240m a year, on top of what Amtrak gets from the government. Freight-rail people regard this glumly as just part of the cost of doing business, but their spirits will hardly lift if the burden grows.

Their main complaint, however, is that one Amtrak passenger train at 110mph will remove the capacity to run six freight trains in any corridor. Nor do they believe claims that PTC, due to be in use by 2015, will increase capacity by allowing trains to run closer together in safety. So it will cost billions to adapt and upgrade the lines to accommodate both a big rise in freight traffic and an unprecedented burgeoning of intercity passenger services. Indeed, some of the money that the White House has earmarked will go on sidings where freight trains can be parked while intercity expresses speed by.

Federal and state grants will flow to the freight railroads to help them upgrade their lines for more and faster passenger trains. But already rows are breaking out over the strict guidelines the FRA will lay down about operations on the upgraded lines, such as guarantees of on-time performance with draconian penalties if they are breached and the payment of indemnities for accidents involving passenger trains. The railroads are also concerned that the federal government will be the final arbiter of how new capacity created with the federal funds will be allocated between passenger and freight traffic. And they are annoyed that there was little consultation before these rules were published.

There have been some heated meetings between freight-railroad managers and FRA officials. Henry Posner III, chairman of Iowa Interstate Railroad, ruefully notes that freight railroads, in the form of passengers and regulation, “are getting back things that caused trouble”.

From the print edition: Briefing

2014年4月12日 星期六

The 18-Wheeler Recovery

What trucking statistics—yes, trucking—can tell us about the economy.

By Daniel Gross (http://www.slate.com/articles/business/moneybox/2010/05/the_18wheeler_recovery.html)

Whether you are an economic pessimist or optimist, you have to consider all the data—not just the data you like. The problem is sussing(
認識到) out which data points to trust. Generally, measurements of actual activity are better than surveys about attitudes or behavior. What's more, many data series come out after the fact and are subject to revision, which makes them less reliable when it comes to gauging what's taking place right now. We won't have a definitive reading on how much the economy grew in this year's first quarter, for example, until much later this year.

But companies that handle a lot of transactions for their customers wind up with a lot of data. And if you're big enough and have national scale, that data can yield some significant insight. That's why a relatively new monthly employment number from ADP, which handles payroll, benefits and other administrative functions for hundreds of thousands of clients, is widely followed. Ceridian, which has a similar business, has a similar information-based data point that aims to provide a real-time snapshot of the performance of a key sector of the economy—and by proxy, of the entire economy. It's the Ceridian-UCLA Pulse of Commerce Index, or PCI.

Ceridian's ComData unit manages payment cards for trucking companies—drivers use them to fill up on diesel at giant truck stops. As a result, it has a pretty good idea of how much diesel is being purchased by professional truckers on any given day. Professor Ed Leamer of UCLA, who helped create the index, had a "Eureka!" moment when he looked at the points of purchase on the map overlaid on the Interstate Highway System. "I said, oh my god, we have sensors at 7,000 locations on all the interstates. What could be better than that?" (Economists get more excited than the rest of us when happening on a potential new indicator.)

Even in this day and age, a huge amount of stuff—commodities, components, finished products—is moved around the country by truck. "Trucking represents inventory and finished goods in motion," said Leamer. "In a normal economy, the trucking activity is proportional to GDP." If you lay the PCI over the Federal Reserve's Industrial Production Index, as you can do with a click on the Ceridian Index homepage, you see that the PCI seems to give us some advance warning of the direction and strength of industrial production. In effect, Leamer argues, the PCI allows us to know sooner than the Fed would tell us how industrial production is going.

But when an economy starts to run into trouble, the goods sector—not the service sector—tends to go south first. And so having a gauge on the performance of the industrial goods sector is highly useful. In late 2007, when few economists saw a recession on the horizon, the PCI began to stall out (
使陷入泥潭), and it fell significantly in the first half of 2008—a time when recession denial was at its peak. "It gave us a proper warning sign that the economy was going to sink," said Leamer. Then, the PCI began to turn up in July 2009, the month the recession seems finally to have come to an end.

The index is seasonally adjusted (since October is an abnormally high month due to stocking up in advance of Christmas) and adjusts as well for the number of weekdays in a particular month. (Fun fact: Diesel sales on weekends are half what they are on weekdays.)

Of course, like all economic indicators, the PCI has its weaknesses. Factors other than economic growth can affect fuel consumption. When energy prices skyrocketed, companies got religion about fuel efficiency. Wal-Mart instituted a plan to reduce fuel use in its trucking fleet. Hybrid-electric diesel rigs may soon hit the road. Companies like Greenroad have developed software programs that monitor behavior to encourage better efficiency. If truckers begin hypermiling, the volume of goods could easily rise without a concomitant increase in fuel consumption. And over time, as services grow and more goods become digital (nobody puts boxloads of CDs on trucks anymore), the relationship between trucking miles and GDP will grow more distant.

At this point, however, Leamer says these factors are marginal. So what is the PCI telling us now? The April report says the PCI fell 0.3 percent, although the measure was still 6.5 percent higher than it was in April 2009. Leamer, who believes (as I do) that the U.S. economy is now in a self-sustaining recovery, notes that the PCI, which was strong in December, has slowed down somewhat. As a result, we should expect a weak industrial production number for April. "This is cause for concern but doesn't completely dampen all the positive news we were reading about," Leamer said. As shown by the recent GDP figures, the economy keeps on truckin'—but in a slightly lower gear.


Like Slate on Facebook. Follow us on Twitter.




Daniel Gross is an editor and columnist at the Daily Beast.

Life Sentence for Chinese Driver for Evading Tolls

By ANDREW JACOBS
Published: January 13, 2011


BEIJING — Like most drivers around the world, Shi Jianfeng did not like to roll down his window at toll booths. In fact, Mr. Shi, a farmer from Henan Province in central China, was so averse to toll collectors, he evaded more than $550,000 in road fees during eight months of highway driving, according to the provincial court that convicted him.

But his punishment, life in prison and a $300,000 fine, has provoked a firestorm in the media and among Chinese who have accused the government of imposing a draconian sentence on a man trying to make ends meet in these inflationary days. “Rape and murder will earn you 15 years in prison but evading road charges will get you life,” said one typically cynical posting on Tianya, a popular message board. “Ours is a miraculous country with peculiar laws.”

Chinese legal scholars said it was the first time toll evasion had earned a scofflaw a life sentence.

There seems to be little dispute that Mr. Shi, who had turned to hauling sand and gravel to make a living, behaved egregiously. He purchased two fake military license plates and other documentation that allowed him and his hired drivers to escape paying tolls on his two trucks during 2,300 trips between May 2008 and January 2009. In announcing the verdict this week, The Dahe Daily suggested that the defendant had accepted his guilt because he declined to appeal. He also did not have a lawyer.

But the financial details of the violations for which Mr. Shi was convicted only served to feed suspicions that he had been railroaded. The toll per truck trip averages more than $200 — a high figure, though truck tolls can go by weight.

But many people noted that his profit during those toll-free days amounted to $30,000. If he had truly evaded $556,000 in road fees, as the police charge, he would have lost more than $520,000 from his trucking business.

The local judiciary was so unnerved by the uproar that it took the unusual step of holding a news conference this week to explain Mr. Shi’s transgressions in detail.

The explanation, however, did little to assuage public anger.

In a commentary he wrote Wednesday in the Beijing News, a lawyer, Xu Mingxuan, said that if the official numbers were to be believed, the greater crime was that Chinese drivers were subjected to exorbitant tolls. “Such figures only highlight the people’s suffering,” he wrote.

With private car ownership soaring in China, the episode seems to have stoked mounting aversion to the tolls that have grown along with the nation’s rapidly expanding highway network. The county has been adding tens of thousands of miles to its highway system, and the vast majority operate with user tolls. A World Bank report in 2007 estimated that mile for mile, Chinese toll rates rivaled those in Germany, where incomes are far more extravagant. One of the capital’s more unpopular highway tolls, for example, is the $1.50 charged for access to the 12-mile highway to Beijing’s international airport. (That roadway’s operators are expected to earn eight times their initial investment, according to government figures.)

Popular aversion to such fees has been inflamed by media reports of freeloading government motorcades and inflated tolls that end up in the pockets of local officials. In 2008, the country’s National Audit Office said that motorists had handed over $2.3 billion at illegally erected tollbooths.

In a commentary on Wednesday, The Yangcheng Evening News in Guangzhou suggested that those who set toll rates, not Mr. Shi, should be punished for onerous fees that added to the ever increasing cost of food and other goods. “Fraud is despicable,” the paper wrote, “but who’s scamming whom?”

Li Bibo contributed research.

A version of this article appeared in print on January 14, 2011, on page A4 of the New York edition

2014年4月10日 星期四

The Box: How the Shipping Container Made the World Smaller and the World Economy Bigger

Marc Levinson
Princeton University Press, May 20, 2010 - Business & Economics - 400 pages

In April 1956, a refitted oil tanker carried fifty-eight shipping containers from Newark to Houston. From that modest beginning, container shipping developed into a huge industry that made the boom in global trade possible. The Box tells the dramatic story of the container's creation, the decade of struggle before it was widely adopted, and the sweeping economic consequences of the sharp fall in transportation costs that containerization brought about.

Published on the fiftieth anniversary of the first container voyage, this is the first comprehensive history of the shipping container. It recounts how the drive and imagination of an iconoclastic entrepreneur, Malcom McLean, turned containerization from an impractical idea into a massive industry that slashed the cost of transporting goods around the world and made the boom in global trade possible.

But the container didn't just happen. Its adoption required huge sums of money, both from private investors and from ports that aspired to be on the leading edge of a new technology. It required years of high-stakes bargaining with two of the titans of organized labor, Harry Bridges and Teddy Gleason, as well as delicate negotiations on standards that made it possible for almost any container to travel on any truck or train or ship. Ultimately, it took McLean's success in supplying U.S. forces in Vietnam to persuade the world of the container's potential.

Drawing on previously neglected sources, economist Marc Levinson shows how the container transformed economic geography, devastating traditional ports such as New York and London and fueling the growth of previously obscure ones, such as Oakland. By making shipping so cheap that industry could locate factories far from its customers, the container paved the way for Asia to become the world's workshop and brought consumers a previously unimaginable variety of low-cost products from around the globe.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Several hundred books on globalization are now published each year, but very few discuss in any detail the unprepossessing aluminum or steel boxes, in lengths of twenty or forty feet (or sometimes longer), that have become the building blocks of our modern economy. This oversight is unfortunate because more than 18 million containers are now constantly crisscrossing the globe on more than 3,500 cargo ships and countless trucks and trains. At ports and other cargo terminals, giant grab cranes load and unload the huge boxes. Container-based shipping has sharply cut transportation costs and time, enhanced reliability, reduced pilferage and theft, and slashed insurance rates. Containers have been directly responsible for, among other things, an enormous increase in the volume of international trade; the creation of complex “just in time” supply and manufacturing chains built around the geographically dispersed production of intermediary goods; the rapid industrialization of China; and a significant decline in the price of consumer goods. Unlike traditional waterfront activities, however, container shipping usually takes place out of most people’s sight and as a result remains perhaps the greatest hidden wonder of our age.
Although The Box may be somewhat too American centered, economist and business journalist Marc Levinson has written an eminently readable history of the advent of the modern logistics industry that goes a long way toward bringing the attention of a nonspecialist audience to the topic. Despite his belief that his subject has “all the romance of a tin can” (p. 1), his account is anything but dull because he builds much of his narrative around a cast of colorful entrepreneurs, engineers, and union leaders. The most significant character is Malcom P. McLean, who launched modern containerization in April 1956 by having fifty-eight truck trailers loaded onboard a refitted oil tanker that sailed from Newark, New Jersey, to Houston. The main background to Levinson’s account, however, consists of the various roadblocks to containerization put in place and enforced by government regulators in agencies such as the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC), the United States Maritime Administration, and the Federal Maritime Board. In the author’s opinion, the bureaucrats, far from having the consumer’s best interest in mind, usually undertook to protect established commercial interests by limiting competition in the transportation industry.
As Levinson observes, the idea of shipping freight in large boxes goes back at least to the late nineteenth century, when some British and French railway operators tried to move household furniture stored in wooden boxes from rail flatcars to horse carts. Early American implementation of the concept, however, bumped into the stone walls erected by regulatory agencies. Among other decisions, the ICC put a stop to an early attempt at containerization by a midwestern railroad in the early 1930s because the railroad offered weight-based rates for its services rather than charging a specific rate for each commodity, as required at that time. Although the ICC commissioners found the container to be “a commendable piece of equipment,” they mandated that railroads could not charge less to carry a container than the equivalent weight of the most expensive commodity stored in it.
The situation was much the same on the maritime side of the transit. The problem was not that seamen failed to notice the significance of the time and costs associated with the labor-intensive loading and unloading of loose cargo in so-called break bulk ships. Indeed, most of them were keenly aware of the problems high-lighted by two studies prepared in the 1950s, which found that longshoremen labor accounted for half of the total duration of one particular transatlantic voyage and between 60 and 75 percent of the cost of transporting cargo in another voyage. Nevertheless, most industry insiders had become comfortable working within the rigid regulatory and governmental support structure. As Levinson notes, for all their “earthy bluster,” the businesses of America’s leading maritime industry operators had survived, “thanks almost entirely to government coddling”: “On domestic routes, government policy discouraged competition among ship lines. On international routes, rates for every commodity were fixed by conferences, a polite term for cartels, and the most important cargo, military freight, was handed out among U.S.-flag carriers without the nuisance of competitive bidding. Decisions about buying, building, or selling ships, about leasing terminals, and about sailing new routes all depended upon government directives” (pp. 150–51).
Laws and regulations further ensured that trucks and ships had nothing in common, thereby inhibiting rationalization through multimodal transport. As Levinson observes, McLean’s idea that “a truck line would use its own trucks to drive its own trailers on board its own ships, float the trailer down the coast, and then drive them to their destination at the other end violated the ICC’s basic precepts” (pp. 43–44). The problem was that the ICC had allowed ship rates to be set well below rail and truck rates to compensate for slower service. McLean, in sending his trucks by water, would severely underprice other truckers. He eventually found a way to circumvent regulatory barriers by acquiring shipping lines that had been granted monopoly on lucrative routes and by moving out of the trucking business altogether while maintaining good relations with former collaborators.
Of course, regulatory barriers were not the only obstacle that modern logistics pioneers had to overcome. Longshoremen’s unions strongly opposed containerization until their members were given generous job-buyout packages. As might have been expected, however, both labor and port authorities receptive to technological progress ended up better off than their more “stubborn” competitors, in part because containerization led to the disappearance of several smaller ports.
Bureaucratic inertia in the U.S. military was another problem. In this case, the creation of the “greatest logistical mess in the history of the U.S. armed forces” (p. 171), Vietnam in the late 1960s, finally gave McLean and his associates an opportunity to prove the tremendous benefits of their approach. McLean benefited doubly because not only was he generously compensated by the U.S. military, but he also managed to inaugurate the first commercial container service between Japan and the United States in the process.
Following his lead, several American engineers, technicians, and managers eventually developed, from the 1960s onward, new types of containers as well as specialized port facilities and equipment to handle them. Although Levinson provides much detail on these developments, including the intricate financing schemes that were crucial in making them a reality, he unfortunately fails to include a single illustration in his book (with the exception of the dust-jacket cover), leaving his reader often wondering what earlier technologies actually looked like. Despite this shortcoming, readers with an interest in business and technological history will find many valuable descriptions and case studies in his account. In the end, though, today’s fully integrated container shipping system became a reality only after the rail, trucking, and maritime deregulation in the 1970s and 1980s.
Levinson’s treatment of the revolutionary days of container shipping, which lasted until the early 1980s, is very thorough, but his account of the more recent past is much less so. Indeed, people familiar with the industry may get the impression that a final (non-American) chapter is missing from the book. For example, although Levinson describes the rise of container ports in western Europe and East Asia, he devotes only two paragraphs to the fact that European and Asian firms that were late entrants in the game now dominate the industry. No U.S. firm is currently listed in the world’s top eighteen container ship companies. Five of these top firms (including the three largest) are headquartered in Europe, three in China (two in mainland China and one in Hong Kong), three in Japan, two in Taiwan, two in South Korea, and the remaining three in Singapore, Chile, and Israel. (See Ted Smith-Peterson, “Railroading’s New Economy: The Spigot,” Trains 66, no. 9 [2006]: 34–41.) In Levinson’s opinion, these late entrants achieved success because they “arrived with financial and managerial skills foreign to many of the carriers they replaced, skills appropriate to an industry in which raising capital and managing information systems were far more important than maritime knowledge” and because they were not burdened with “the legacy of government subsidies and directives that had crippled many of their predecessors by forcing them to buy ships built in their home countries or to sail routes determined by regulators” (p. 275). No doubt many readers would like to know more about these developments and about which skills Levinson means. Levinson also barely alludes to more recent technological advances and to the amazing fact that the rest of the world now handles only one-third as many containers as the Chinese do (for both domestic and international trade). Furthermore, in the words of one industry analyst, China has now become the “U.S. railroads’ growth engine” and has been the cause of an American “rail renaissance” (Tom Murray, “Railroading’s New Economy: The China Factor,” Trains 66, no. 8 [2006], p. 28).
Despite such shortcomings, however, The Box is highly recommended for anyone with an interest in understanding the emergence of our contemporary “globalized” world economy.
PIERRE DESROCHERS
University of Toronto
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fact from Wiki (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intermodal_container)

History 
Main article: Containerization
The standardised steel shipping container has its origins in the 1950s when commercial shipping operators and the United States military started developing such units.[2][citation needed] Shipping owner Malcom McLean worked with engineer Keith Tantlinger to develop the modern intermodal container. The logistics method employing these was named Container Express and was abbreviated ConEx. That abbreviation evolved into a word within the American English lexicon.
ISO standards for containers were published between 1968 and 1970 by the International Maritime Organization. These standards allow for more consistent loading, transporting, and unloading of goods in ports throughout the world, allowing for saved time and resources.
The International Convention for Safe Containers is a 1972 regulation by the Inter-governmental Maritime Consultative Organization on the safe handling and transport of containers. It decrees that every container traveling internationally is supplied with a "CSC-Plate".

2014年4月5日 星期六

Hauling New Treasure Along the Silk Road

By KEITH BRADSHER Published: July 20, 2013 
(http://www.nytimes.com/2013/07/21/business/global/hauling-new-treasure-along-the-silk-road.html?pagewanted=1)

AZAMAT KULYENOV, a 26-year-old train driver, slid the black-knobbed throttle forward, and the 1,800-ton express freight train, nearly a half-mile long, began rolling west across the vast, deserted grasslands of eastern Kazakhstan, leaving the Chinese border behind.

Dispatchers in the Kazakh border town of Dostyk gave this train priority over all other traffic, including passenger trains. Specially trained guards rode on board. Later in the trip, as the train traveled across desolate Eurasian steppes, guards toting AK-47 military assault rifles boarded the locomotive to keep watch for bandits(盜賊) who might try to drive alongside and rob the train. Sometimes, the guards would even sit on top of the steel shipping containers.

The train roughly follows the fabled Silk Road, the ancient route linking China and Europe that was used to transport spices, gems and, of course, silks before falling into disuse six centuries ago. Now the overland route is being resurrected(使復活) for a new precious cargo: several million laptop computers and accessories made each year in China and bound for customers in European cities like London, Paris, Berlin and Rome.
Hewlett-Packard, the Silicon Valley electronics company, has pioneered the revival of a route famous in the West since the Roman Empire. For the last two years, the company has shipped laptops and accessories to stores in Europe with increasing frequency aboard express trains that cross Central Asia at a clip of 50 miles an hour. Initially an experiment run in summer months, H.P. is now dispatching trains on the nearly 7,000-mile route at least once a week, and up to three times a week when demand warrants. H.P. plans to ship by rail throughout the coming winter, having taken elaborate measures to protect the cargo from temperatures that can drop to 40 degrees below zero.

Though the route still accounts for just a small fraction of manufacturers’ overall shipments from China to Europe, other companies are starting to follow H.P.’s example. Chinese authorities announced on Wednesday the first of six long freight trains this year from Zhengzhou, a manufacturing center in central China, to Hamburg, Germany, following much the same route across western China, Kazakhstan, Russia, Belarus and Poland as the H.P. trains. The authorities said they planned 50 trains on the route next year, hauling $1 billion worth of goods; the first train this month is carrying $1.5 million worth of tires, shoes and clothes, while the trains are to bring back German electronics, construction machinery, vehicles, auto parts and medical equipment.

=> ZZ to Germany across western China, Kazakhstan, Russia, Belarus and Poland. 
=> Transport tires/clothes/shoes to West and send electronics/auto part/medical equipment back to East

DHL announced on June 20 that it had begun weekly express freight train service from Chengdu in western China across Kazakhstan and ultimately to Poland. Some of H.P.’s rivals in the electronics industry are in various stages of starting to use the route for exports from China, freight executives said.

The Silk Road was never a single route, but a web of paths taken by caravans of camels and horses that began around 120 B.C., when Xi’an in west-central China — best known for its terra cotta warriors — was China’s capital. The caravans started across the deserts of western China, traveled through the mountain ranges along China’s western borders with what are now Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan and then journeyed across the sparsely populated steppes of Central Asia to the Caspian Sea and beyond.

These routes flourished through the Dark Ages and the early medieval period in Europe. But as maritime navigation expanded in the 1300s and 1400s, and as China’s political center shifted east to Beijing, China’s economic activity also moved toward the coast.

Today, the economic geography is changing again. Labor costs in China’s eastern cities have surged in the last decade, so manufacturers are trying to reduce costs by moving production west to the nation’s interior. Trucking products from the new inland factories to coastal ports is costly and slow. High oil prices have made airfreight exorbitantly expensive and prompted the world’s container shipping lines to reduce sharply the speed of their vessels.

Slow steaming cuts oil consumption, but the resulting delays have infuriated shippers of high-value electronics goods like H.P’s. Such delays drive up their costs and make it harder to respond quickly to changes in consumer demand in distant markets.

Trucking goods from inland factories to the ports of Shenzhen or Shanghai on the coast and then sending the goods by ship around India and through the Suez Canal takes five weeks. The Silk Road train cuts the shipping time from western China to retail distribution centers in western Europe to three weeks. The sea route is still about 25 percent cheaper than sending goods by train, but the cost of the added time by sea is considerable.
 

By switching from ocean freight to rail freight, “the inventory costs and lead times will see a lot of improvement,” said Jonney Shih, the chairman of Asustek, the world’s third-largest player in the global market for tablet computers, after Apple and Samsung. His company, too, has begun to experiment with the Silk Road.
=> Asus start to try Silk road to transport products and goods to reduce inventory cost and lead time.

Scrambling for Rail Traffic


Best known in the West as the Nationalist capital of China during World War II, Chongqing is now a smoggy metropolis, its city center perched(棲息) on a bluff(虛張聲勢) wrapped in a bend of the Yangtze River. The urban population of Chongqing is approaching 13 million, while an additional 15 million live in nearby rural areas that also lie within Chongqing’s administrative borders.

Deng Xiaoping began opening China to foreign investment in the late 1970s, and for the next quarter-century Chongqing was a place that people fled, seeking better-paying jobs on the coast. But in the last few years, it has emerged as an industrial hub of western China, attracting multinationals like the chemical giant BASF and the Ford Motor Company. H.P. took the first steps to move production west from Shanghai four years ago. Now its contractors employ 80,000 workers in Chongqing, making 20 million laptops and 15 million printers a year.
Foxconn, the big Taiwanese electronics contract manufacturer, has twice as many workers in nearby Chengdu, mainly making Apple iPads, and has been shifting production there from Shenzhen.

Tony Prophet, a senior vice president at H.P., said the company began thinking about a rail route west almost as soon as it started production in Chongqing. The company, Mr. Prophet said, was pursuing a strategy of moving products, not people: instead of encouraging a migration from inland provinces to coastal factories, H.P. would manufacture in the inland provinces and then ship the products from there.

To attract the company, the city built an extra runway at its airport long enough to accommodate Boeing 747 cargo jets. Airfreight to Europe takes only one week, including customs processing.

But persistently high oil prices made the cost of airfreight daunting — as much as seven times the cost of rail freight. H.P. was also concerned about the carbon emissions involved in airfreight, which are 30 times those of the rail or sea routes.

Trucking computers to the coast and then putting them on ships meant tying up huge sums of money in the inventory hauled across the South China Sea and the Indian Ocean. That delay would make it hard to shift sales strategies quickly in Europe if competitors came up with breakthrough products. So H.P. began looking at going west by land, across Kazakhstan.

=> High lead time in sea cause difficulties of shifting sales strategies to Europe. How about transporting by land from west?

President Nursultan A. Nazarbayev of Kazakhstan has been encouraging this idea. Last December, he called for his country to upgrade its rail network as a way to reclaim its historical role as the crossroads of Asia. “We are reviving a New Silk Road,” he said, “by setting up a Western Europe-Western China transportation corridor.”

Kazakhstan, which already has 8,700 miles of rail, is rapidly building new rail routes to its borders with China in the east and Turkmenistan to the south. One goal is to connect China through Turkmenistan to Iran, assuming that the political situation in Iran improves, said Kanat K. Alpysbayev, the vice president for logistics at Kazakh National Railways. The Kazakh rail authority is also negotiating to help fix and manage the rail network in Afghanistan, where Chinese companies are building a vast copper mine.

=> 1. Connect China to Iran. 2. Fix and manage the rail network in Afghanistan .

The effort to move more cargo from China to Europe by rail received considerable help from a development so obscure that few outside the transport sector initially noticed it. Kazakhstan, Russia and Belarus created a customs union that took full effect in January 2012, eliminating lengthy inspections at their borders with one another. The measure saved days of transit time and greatly reduced pilferage(竊盜行為).
 

The Kazakhstan rail initiative has spurred regional competition. On June 21, President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia announced a $43 billion infrastructure plan focused heavily on improving rail links to China, notably through improvements to the trans-Siberian railroad. The competition is ultimately a positive for manufacturers that make goods in China, like H.P.

The journey of H.P. computers and accessories begins in Chongqing with workers like Zheng Xiaoxue. A cheerful 18-year-old, she was raised by her grandparents on the outskirts of Chongqing; her parents had migrated to work at a plastics factory near Hong Kong in Shenzhen, where wages and benefits now reach $500 a month.

But her parents have now returned home, complaining that the food in Shenzhen was bland and unappetizing compared with the fiery Sichuan cuisine they preferred. So instead of migrating, Ms. Zheng chose a job paying $190 a month, as well as free room and board, at a Taiwanese-run factory making notebook computers for H.P.

“At work, we speak Mandarin, but after work, we mostly speak Sichuanese — almost all of us are from Sichuan,” Ms. Zheng said, while downing a free plate of pork and cabbage for dinner in the factory cafeteria.

For the train that Mr. Kulyenov would drive, workers loaded finished laptops into 43 of H.P.’s specially designed dark blue containers, each 40 feet long, 8 feet wide and 9 feet 6 inches high, and loaded computer monitors into seven more identical containers. The 50 containers were sealed shut with a series of locks and loaded onto a train at the Chongqing rail yard, which left the station on June 14.

It would take five days for the train, carrying nothing but H.P. equipment, to cross 2,000 miles of western China to reach the eastern border of Kazakhstan.

An Unexpected Delay


The train was punctual in reaching the Dzungarian Gate, a low, wide valley through the snow-capped mountain ranges that separates China and Kazakhstan. Chinese customs officers there opened documents that had been sealed since the shipment left Chongqing. For 49 of the 50 containers, the documents matched the cargo in every detail.

But for one of the laptop computer containers, the numbers didn’t match. The documents showed that the total weight of one container was 10,135 kilograms. But the scale showed that the container weighed 10,153 kilograms — a difference of just two digits, transposed accidentally.

Hours passed on the Kazakh side as H.P. and its shipping agents hustled to amend the paperwork, which was not easy because the error was discovered at the end of a workday. After thundering across China, through Xi’an, across a corner of the Gobi Desert and skirting the vast arid wastes of the Taklamakan Desert, where temperatures can hit 120 degrees, the train simply sat. for 26 hours.

Such extreme delays are unusual — H.P. managers say the longest previous delay was 10 hours, at the Belarus-Poland border. Sea shipments have sometimes been delayed up to three days because of bad weather and other problems.
=> Longest delay difference between see and rails.


H.P. has made strenuous efforts to keep the products moving, sending representatives to remote Central Asian border crossings to explain its plans, said Ronald Kleijwegt, the company’s director of logistics for Europe, the Mideast and Africa.
H.P. helped China overhaul its software for processing customs documents. China’s previous system allowed clerks to choose only an adjacent country in Asia as the final destination for rail shipments, Mr. Kleijwegt said, because no one had envisioned that exports in sealed rail cars might be sent nearly 7,000 miles to destinations in Europe.
The company also negotiated special customs clearance, permitting its containers to stay locked and uninspected at border crossings along the route, although the containers are X-rayed for contraband. That was mostly to shorten the time needed for the trip, but also for security. Two years ago, H.P. sent 200 computers in a single, unsealed container as a test shipment on a general-purpose freight train. The shipment went through comprehensive customs checks at border crossings. By the time the train reached Germany, many of the computers had disappeared.
=> Customs issues need to be settled along the trip

 
‘Much Respect on the Track’
Once the problem of the transposed numbers was cleared up, the train crossed into Kazakhstan. An overhead crane and two cranes that looked like cottages on wheels lifted the H.P. containers off the Chinese train, and loaded them onto flat cars with wider wheel gauges in the rail yard in Dostyk on the Kazakh side of the border. Kazakhstan, Russia and Belarus, all traversed on the trip, have wide rails inherited from the Soviet rail system. China and Europe have narrower rails, so cargo transfers take several hours.

Mr. Kulyenov, a freight train driver fourth class who dreams of being promoted someday to reach the rank of passenger train driver first class, considered himself lucky to be driving the train. Sitting in the cab of a new diesel locomotive, he waited in the Dostyk rail yard for a messenger in a bright yellow safety jacket to bring him a computer printout of his cargo. When the printout arrived, he carefully made notations in the locomotive’s purple velvet-bound log book, a concession to tradition, then typed many of the same weight details into a dashboard computer that helps precisely calibrate the engine for pulling each load.
When the signal lights ahead turned from red to green, Mr. Kulyenov moved the huge train smoothly out of the yard. “It’s a new engine; it’ll have no problem,” he said.

The locomotive was built at a new factory in Astana, Kazakhstan’s capital, by a Russian-Kazakh joint venture that licensed the design from General Electric. The locomotive’s body, generator, radiator and wheels are made in Kazakhstan, but G.E. exports the diesel engine from Erie, Pa. — although G.E. and the joint venture are making plans to start building a diesel engine factory in Astana as well next year.

As the train moved forward, the lattice(格子) of train tracks in the rail yard narrowed to three, then two and then one that headed off across the flat grasslands of the steppe. Mr. Kulyenov and the assistant driver next to him, Alexander Nemtzev, 31, glanced around for the small flock of two-humped Bactrian camels that live near the rail line. They were nowhere in sight.

A few Kazakh houses lay long and low against the wind, with whitewashed walls, tile roofs and mastiffs(大型馴犬) prowling(四處覓食) out front. Herders on horseback, wearing pointy woolen knit caps, tended flocks of sheep, cattle and horses.

Mr. Kulyenov marveled at how quickly freight trains headed in the opposite direction moved onto sidings to make way for his high-priority shipment.

“This is the first time I’ve driven the H.P. train,” said Mr. Kulyenov, who has been a train driver for eight years, “and the first time I’ve seen so much respect on the track.”

China’s smog was far behind, swept away by the crystalline air of the high, barren steppes(乾草原). Dawns and sunsets played on the horizon in nearly hourlong shows of pink, mauve and purple. Kazakhstan looks a bit like North Dakota; both grow a lot of wheat. But Kazakhstan is slightly larger than the United States east of the Mississippi River, with fewer people than Florida.

The train was not built for comfort. There were no bunks for sleeping, or even bathrooms. Just as the Pony Express of the American West relied on a series of riders to carry the mail, the H.P. train relies on a new driver, assistant driver and guards to board the locomotive at stops every three or four hours. Even the locomotives are replaced with fresh ones every third or fourth stop. At each stop, railway guards dressed in black or military fatigues hustle up and down the train, checking the cars for signs of tampering(損害). Over the course of each three-week journey, more than 100 drivers and guards board the train.

To Mr. Kulyenov and Mr. Nemtzev, the Silk Road is an abstraction, a little-remembered historical detail studied in school. Mr. Nemtzev, who grew up in easternmost Kazakhstan, remembered how he would play with little plastic trains as a boy and yearned to drive real trains someday. “I’ve never wanted to do anything else,” he said as the headlights traversed a vast emptiness. We traveled for nearly an hour at one point without illuminating a single house, car or person anywhere near the tracks.
 

An hour after sunset, Mr. Kulyenov and Mr. Nemtzev were replaced by the next pair of drivers. Vladimir Kolozorkin, 52, took over as the main driver. With a gray crew cut and an uncanny ability to distinguish complex patterns of railway signal lights at enormous distances, he greeted visitors with a gruff(粗魯的) warning that rules strictly prohibited distracting the driver in any way.

But he mellowed(圓熟的) as the hours passed, saying that he remembered from his early boyhood in eastern Kazakhstan how camel caravans, a fixture on the Silk Road for two millenniums, had still traveled to mountain villages.

“They were used to go places you couldn’t reach in a car,” he recalled. “In the old days, people used them for caravans, but now they’re just kept for the wool, the meat and the milk.”
China to Holland, in 21 Days

When the train reached the Belarus-Poland border, the containers had to be moved again to flat cars with a narrower wheel gauge. While 41 flat cars headed on across Europe right away, 9 more had to wait for a separate locomotive because the train would otherwise exceed European regulations for a freight train’s maximum length. The first train reached Duisburg, Germany, on July 3, or 19 days after the containers left Chongqing. Trucks then took the containers overnight to their final destination, H.P.’s European distribution center, in Oostrum, the Netherlands.

All 50 containers, including the nine that left Poland later, ended up arriving in Oostrum in 21 days, or three weeks. Ask ocean shipping executives about the possible challenge from the new Central Asian rail route and they say that it will not take away enough business to affect their bottom lines.

Kazakhstan forecasts that rail freight will grow to 7.5 million 40-foot containers by 2020, from just 2,500 transported from western China to Europe last year. That would be a huge increase that could sorely tax Kazakhstan’s rail network; Mr. Alpysbayev said plans were under way to build extra tracks to help handle the traffic. But even at 7.5 million containers, rail freight transiting Kazakhstan would still be only a tenth of ocean freight between Europe and Asia.

Mr. Prophet, the H.P. vice president, said that despite the occasional delays — like the 26 hours at the Kazakh border — the company still planned to shift more shipments from sea freight, and especially from airfreight, to rail. The journey to Europe can take as little as 18 or 19 days by rail, but to allow for delays, H.P. doesn’t plan for the train to arrive in fewer than 22 days, he noted.

Zhengzhou’s and DHL’s move to offer regularly scheduled rail service across Kazakhstan, not to mention the lengthening list of industries trying the route, suggests that despite the occasional customs delay, many companies now share H.P.’s view that the Silk Road has re-emerged as a viable transport route.

“They were all highly interested,” Mr. Kleijwegt of H.P. said, “but wanted to see someone else prove it.”





Obituary of the inventor of the lock that enables shipping containers to be stabilized - Keith W. Tantlinger, b. 1919

By David Leonhardt
(http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/12/22/magazine/the-lives they-lived.html?_r=0#view=keith_w__tantlinger)
 

Stacking boxes is not one of the more complex tasks that humans perform. We learn to do it as children, with alphabet blocks, Legos and the like. And yet for decades, the difficulty of stacking large boxes — crates and containers — was a major impediment to global trade. Merely moving one large container required painstaking work in which longshoremen attached and detached hooks to the corners of each container before moving on to the next one. They certainly could not repeat the process to stack containers many stories high.

In the 1950s, a longtime trucking executive named Malcom McLean decided there had to be a better way, and he turned to Keith W. Tantlinger, an engineer at a truck-trailer manufacturer in Spokane, Wash., to solve the problem. Tantlinger developed a lock that connected to the corners of containers and that crane operators could mechanically open and close from their seats.
A drawing from Tantlinger’s 1958 patent for stacking shipping containers, from United States Patent and Trademark Office.

The lock, which led to the adoption of uniformly sized containers over the next 15 years, caused a revolution in shipping. The time and cost of transporting goods fell sharply, which contributed to an astonishing boom in global trade. Now containers are a fixture on the American landscape, piled neatly alongside highways, airports and ports. They even had a pop-culture cameo, as the backdrop to the second season of “The Wire.”

Tantlinger’s lock deserves a place on any list of economically significant inventions of the 20th century. Unlike some of the other items on that list, however, it is fairly pedestrian from a technological standpoint. It is not a car or a jet engine or a silicon chip. It is a metal lock. But it ushered in a new way of doing things. “There was no breakthrough in terms of material,” says Marc Levinson, the author of “The Box,” which tells the story of containerization. “There was a breakthrough in thinking through the entire process and coming up with a neat and economical solution.”

Economists have long understood that technological advance is crucial to economic growth and, by extension, higher living standards. In recent years, thanks partly to the work of Paul Romer, a New York University professor, they have also begun to recognize the importance of processes, rules and systems. The great advances in health and longevity came not only from new medicines but, more important, from the spread of clean water, sanitation systems and rules requiring doctors to wash their hands. The Internet depends on both the invention of the personal computer and the notion of connecting personal computers to one another. Modern societies rely on laws to establish the trust that is crucial to market economies.

You can make a good argument — as Romer and others do — that the greatest opportunities for progress today lie with better rules and systems. Improving schools is more about process than laptops. Reining in the financial excesses that caused the bubble and bust depends on better regulations, more effectively carried out. Reducing errors and expanding preventive medicine, as Atul Gawande, the surgeon and writer, puts it, “can arguably save more lives in the next decade than bench science, more lives than research on the genome, stem-cell therapy, cancer vaccines and all the other laboratory work we hear about in the news.”

In each of these cases, as with Tantlinger’s lock, technology matters. He held a patent for his invention, after all. But it is a patent for the less glamorous side of progress, the hard, creative work that allows mundane objects to fill new needs.

David Leonhardt is the Washington bureau chief for The Times.

The Panama Canal Time Lapsed

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_quhzVvK--Y


A plan to unlock prosperity


Ten years ago this month Panama took possession of the canal that bears its name. It has high hopes for a $5.25 billion expansion of the waterway. Dec 3rd 2009 | Panama City | From the print edition

CAPTAIN HARIDAS PILLAY looks down anxiously from the bridge. He brings his ship through here every month, but it is always a tense, careful maneuver. The MVPerseus Leader inches into the Miraflores lock on the Panama Canal on her way from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic, 80km (50 miles) away, a tug astern(在船(或飛機)的尾部) braking her bulky progress into the narrow gap. She is like a floating multi-story car park, a roll-on roll-off car carrier. Today she has 3,300 Subarus and Mazdas from Tokyo and Hiroshima, bound for Baltimore and New York.

The master relays orders from the Panama Canal Authority (ACP) pilot to the helmsman (舵手) as the vessel eases into the lock under her own power. With barely half a metre to spare to both port and starboard, she is roped to four “mules”, or electric locomotives, fore and aft to stop her bumping against the sides. “It's like directing a small orchestra,” says Captain Pillay. Gates close, water rises, gates open; then close, up, open again. After about 30 minutes the ship is ready to steam into the wider waters of the canal. The atmosphere on the bridge relaxes, and cups of coffee appear.

The Panamanian isthmus was too high and rocky for the original French and later American builders to clear a sea-level passage like the Suez Canal, so ships have to be lifted 26 metres (85 feet) from the Pacific to enter the lake midway through the canal, and lowered again on the Atlantic side. The French gave up after tropical diseases, chiefly yellow fever, wiped out thousands of labourers. The American Army Corps of Engineers managed to control the spread of disease among contract labourers, of whom almost 20,000 came from Barbados; they built a railway, imported giant steam shovels and moved mountains to complete an engineering wonder of the world. The first ships passed through in 1914. The descendants of many workers live today on the Atlantic coast in cities such as Colón and still speak English.


As well as providing a short cut for battleships, the canal became a vital artery of world trade. Since the 1970s, however, merchant vessels have been growing too big to pass through it. The largest container ships today can carry more than 12,000 boxes, whereas the biggest that can fit in the canal carry only 4,500. Since the mid-1990s it has become obvious that the bottleneck would need to be cleared, or the canal would become a backwater.

In September 2007, even as the world economy slid into recession and global trade fell for the first time in a quarter of a century, the ACP started digging. The work consists mainly of dredging the existing canal and blasting an access channel to a new set of larger locks. The channel will be parallel to the existing Miraflores lake, but nine metres higher. Basalt from the excavation will be used to make concrete to build the locks. Construction of these, in what is now a marshy lagoon on the Pacific side, should start in a few months. About 150m cubic metres will be excavated, compared with 200m for the original canal.

Last July the ACP awarded the contract to build the locks: 60% wider and 40% longer, they will be able to handle all but eight of the world's container vessels, along with supersize tankers and bulk carriers of ores and grains. An international consortium led by Spain's Sacyr Vallehermoso won the contract, thanks partly to its innovative rolling lock gates which slide into a side chamber, allowing easier maintenance on the most delicate part of the locks. This is a trophy(
戰利品) deal for Sacyr, and relief from problems in its home market.

The whole project should be finished in 2014 at a cost of $5.25 billion, more than a fifth of Panama's GDP last year. Of this, $3 billion will come from retained earnings, the rest from bilateral and multilateral lenders, led by the Japan Bank for International Cooperation, the European Investment Bank and the Inter-American Development Bank. According to the ACP, the project is on time and within budget.

The expansion—one of the world's biggest transport projects—was controversial when first mooted(
未決的) in around 2001. Some feared that it would cripple a small country whose public debt then amounted to 71% of GDP, and that extra dams would flood rural land, displacing peasants and threatening water supplies. Others argued for a giant port on the Pacific side with containers crossing the isthmus by rail. Yet Panamanians voted heavily in favour of expansion in a referendum in 2006 after concessions to soften the environmental impact: there will be no extra dam and the new locks will recycle most water.

Panama took over the canal ten years ago this month under a treaty signed in 1977 by Jimmy Carter, then America's president. The Americans ran it as a federal agency, setting tolls to cover costs. The Panamanians' approach was more commercial. The ACP, a state-owned autonomous agency, segmented the market, adapted tolls to different cargoes and charged more for additional services, such as extra tugs and deckhands. Transit times became shorter and more predictable, attracting container lines. In 1995, 200,000 containers went through; this year's number is 4.6m. The canal's share of traffic between East Asia and America's East Coast has risen from 11% to 40%, according to Alberto Alemán Zubieta, the ACP's chief executive.

The ACP has also been able to charge more. Since 1998 the average toll has risen by 70%. In May, for example, the price per container went up from $63 to $72. (Container ships are usually charged by capacity, regardless of load. Cruise liners pay $120 per berth.) The canal has revenues of $2 billion and costs of only $600m. Spare cash goes into the Panamanian treasury, through a revenue royalty and dividends. In the fiscal year that ended in September, the treasury pocketed $760m.

Improved service is one justification for the increased tolls. Joe Reeder, the last chairman of the canal authority under American control, thinks the Panamanians have done a great job. “They have got the total transit time down below 24 hours,” he says. “We never managed better than 27 or 28 hours.” This has been done even as the number of transits has risen from 13,000 a year to over 14,000. Most are done by a hard core of 300 container ships and specialized vessels like Captain Pillay's passing through regularly between America's East Coast and China.

Although it has some power in the market, the ACP is no monopolist, able to hold the world's shipping lines to ransom. Rodolfo Sabonge, its head of marketing, notes that there are alternatives to the short cut between the Atlantic and the Pacific. The big market for container ships is East Asia (largely China) to the East Coast, with access to the bulk of America's population. Shanghai to New York via the Panama Canal works out at roughly 25-26 days, compared with 27-28 days via Suez or 19-21 via Los Angeles and train. The route via the West Coast and overland costs about $600 per container more than Panama, depending on a ship's operating costs, which are of the order of $60,000 a day.

The bosses of the world's shipping firms, who sit on the ACP's advisory board, started pressing for expansion as soon as Panama took over. “Hardly anybody is building smaller container ships now,” says Jürgen Harling, group vice-president of A.P. Moller-Maersk of Denmark, the world's biggest container-shipping line. “With big vessels you need fewer of them, say, five to run a regular service from China to [America's] West Coast, compared with eight or nine to run a similar service through the canal at its present size.” Laurent Falguière, a vice-president of France's CMA CGM, the world's third-largest container-shipping line, emphasises the flexibility a wider canal will provide, along with the upgraded ports and terminals planned on America's Gulf and East Coasts. He says the project will “bring a breath of fresh air”, altering the relative merits of the different transpacific or Atlantic routes.

Digging for commerceReuters

Not all shipping analysts are enthusiastic. Martin Stopford, a director of Clarksons, a London shipping consultancy, and author of a standard work on maritime economics, sees some limits to the benefits, since economies of scale diminish for container ships above 6,500 TEUs (20-foot equivalent units—the measure for containers). He also notes that East Coast ports are not yet big or deep enough to handle giant container vessels. “Nevertheless,” he says, echoing “Field of Dreams”, a film about baseball, “if they build it, they will come.”

Mark Page of Drewry, another London firm of shipping consultants, turns Mr Stopford's argument on its head. “If they don't build,” he says, “they will go.” Mr Page thinks the canal would have faced marginalisation had it not started expanding. In 2000, he calculates, 85% of the container fleet could still pass through Panama. But bigger ships caught on fast from the mid-1990s. By 2007 barely 57% of container ships could fit the canal. “By 2011 it will be less than half.” He thinks, though, that the expansion will not make much difference for many kinds of trades, such as bulk ores and grains, oil tankers or specialized refrigerator or chemical carrier ships. “It's all about containers,” he concludes.
=> Less and less containers went through Panama Canal due to bigger and bigger shipping size. 

The ACP forecasts that, thanks to the expansion, total tonnage will rise from 280m tonnes in 2005 (its base year) to 510m in 2025. Container traffic should triple to about 300m tonnes. The ACP is also counting on a continued rise in its share of traffic between East Asia and the East Coast to about half, at the expense of America's West Coast ports and railways. No fewer than 140 shipping routes (counted port-to-port) already run via Panama: the ability to take bigger vessels could add even more, especially between eastern South America and Asia, and western South America and the American East Coast and Europe. Brazilian soya and iron ore and Colombian coal in big bulk carriers may soon have better access to China, which might in turn affect commodity prices.
=> Tonnage will increase, shipping routes will also go up because of ability to take bigger vessels.

Mr Alemán also reckons expansion boosts Panama's status as a regional hub: “It is a big port on two oceans,” he says. He sees more big ships coming in to offload cargoes for trans-shipment in smaller vessels on either ocean—an example of the flexibility that shipping lines want. Dell and HP, two big computer-makers, and Caterpillar, a leading manufacturer of construction machinery, already have distribution centers in Panama in anticipation.

Spilling over

The ACP believes that the expansion, once completed, will boost Panama's annual growth rate by 1.2 percentage points, helping GDP grow to 2.5 times the 2005 level by 2025. That, estimates the authority, would lift 100,000 Panamanians out of poverty: today 1m are poor in a population of 3.4m. But the mechanism by which a wider canal will raise the living standards of the country's people—particularly its least fortunate—remains murky.

Panama's economy is not a coherent whole. In recent years its growth rate, thanks largely to the canal and the activity associated with it, has been the highest in Latin America: 7%-plus in 2004 and 2005, 8.5% in 2006, 12.1% in 2007 and 10.7% last year. Residents proudly call the narrow strip of prosperity along the canal a Latin American Singapore. Panama boasts the world's biggest shipping registry, which means business for lawyers and boat-servicing companies. Its privatized ports move containers with world-class efficiency, and its airport has become an important hub for travel between North and South America. The high number of optical fibers passing through its territory gives Panama the best connectivity in Latin America, making it attractive for call centers and regional headquarters.

At the Atlantic end of the canal lies the Colón Free Zone, the world's second-biggest re-export centre, trailing Hong Kong. Last year $9.1 billion-worth of merchandise was unloaded there; re-exports, after re-labelling, repackaging and so forth, amounted to $9.7 billion. At the Pacific terminus, Panama City is home to dozens of banks, serving Colombians and Venezuelans with dollar savings as well as Central Americans, and thousands of companies, attracted by its favorable tax treatment of offshore business. Despite the global recession, the skyline continues to sprout apartment towers of dizzying heights.

Yet this stretch of Singapore bisects an isthmus that is otherwise barely distinguishable from Nicaragua, a few hundred kilometers to the north-west. Few low-skilled jobs are available besides those on building sites in Panama City. As a result virtually all formal non-farm jobs are in the former canal zone. The rest of the labour force—including most of the country's poor—works in agriculture, which is highly protected and inefficient. The water that fills the canal's locks flows from nearby rivers where the children of indigenous peasants swim naked during school hours. Panama's income distribution is among the least equal in the world.

Proponents of the canal expansion outline three ways in which it will benefit the country. The first is already being felt: the direct economic jolt of the construction itself, which has created 5,000 jobs and boosted GDP by 3.5% this year. This fortuitous Keynesian kick-start has kept the economy growing in 2009—in a region where many have shrunk.

Second, the proponents expect, will be a new wave of investment in the cluster of industries near the canal. Together, they make up 28% of GDP and are far more labour-intensive than the ACP itself, which has a lean payroll of just 9,500. A wider canal will also be able to handle larger cruise ships, making them more likely to choose Panama as their home port. Cruising could bolster tourism, Panama's largest source of export income from services after the canal. The Miraflores locks already have a visitor centre with stadium-style seating to watch boats being raised and lowered. It has hosted wedding receptions and even a Miss Universe contest. The sliding gates and water-saving basins of the new locks may attract even more visitors.

The third stream of benefits is the extra revenue flowing into the treasury. The ACP expects its annual transfers to the state to triple between 2005 and 2015 and perhaps to rise eightfold, to over $4 billion, by 2025. This predicted windfall offers Panama the best chance to escape the economic woes that have stymied much of Central America for centuries. But as any oil-producing developing country can attest, such profits can create problems as well as solve them.

They could even exacerbate some flaws in the economy. Because Panama is short of skilled labour, many of the jobs created by further growth of the canal cluster would have to be filled by foreigners. “We have to make sure that the canal doesn't become Panama's oil,” says Nicolás Barletta, a former president. “We can't let it subsidize the rest of the economy.”
=> Three benefit: 1. Increase Jobs, GDP. 2. New wave of investment in the cluster of industries near the canal. 3. Extra revenue into trasury. 
=> Flaws: Increased jobs may be given to foreigners due to short of skilled labors.

A man, a plan, a canal, Panama

It is too much to expect even such a huge project to solve all a country's economic troubles. It will bring jobs in ancillary services; and the extra money could, if used wisely, ease some pressing problems. Most people think that economic diversification is the best way to reduce poverty. Panama's new president, Ricardo Martinelli, a supermarket magnate who was elected in May, has hired McKinsey, a firm of consultants, to design a national development plan. It is due to be released this month.
Given that so many poor people work in farming, improving productivity there is most important. This means bringing techniques, equipment and seeds up to global standards, and cultivating Panama's most promising crops, such as bananas and coffee (its Geisha bean is especially prized). In particular, Panama is short of refrigeration capacity to preserve its produce.

On top of this, social services, primarily health care and education, also need improvement. Although Panama's social spending per person is among the highest in Latin America, its students' standardized test results rank near the bottom. Both Mr Martinelli's ministers and independent analysts attribute this disappointing showing to a powerful teachers' union and an inefficient civil service.

The government could use its extra income to foster rural development in any number of ways. It could also build more schools, universities, clinics and hospitals, or hire more or better teachers or doctors.

But money is only part of the equation. If the public sector is inefficient and prone to graft, as Panama's is—the country ranks joint 84th cleanest out of 180 in Transparency International's index of perceptions of corruption—the cash may be wasted or end up in the wrong hands. Moreover, canal profits may blunt the incentive to spruce up a tax system that collects a paltry 11% of GDP. Countries with bountiful natural resources have often been poorly governed because leaders who do not rely on tax revenues are not held to account by the public, and are thus free to misbehave.

It is precisely in public administration that the canal may make its greatest contribution. Although the ACP is an arm of the government, it is run autonomously and professionally. It issues debt independently of the treasury (and, implicitly, has a higher credit rating). “I thought the canal should have been privatized, but I was wrong,” says Felipe Chapman, an economist in Panama City. “It's a public company with the efficiency of a private one. The canal broke the taboo that Panamanians couldn't run things. We've run it even better than the Americans did.”

For the world's shipping industry, the expansion of the canal will be an event almost as big as its opening a century before. Panama is better placed to reap the benefits. The public employees of the ACP have shown they can earn money honestly and effectively. If the state's other servants follow their example in spending it, the rising waters of the newly expanded canal may truly lift all Panamanian boats.