An excerpt from the Introduction:
Times have changed. China now has the second-largest economy in the world. Mexico, following almost twenty years of economic stability, now boasts 1.9 million manufacturing jobs, thriving innovation centers, and a burgeoning high-tech industry. Between 2001 and 2011, Brazil lifted 20 million people out of poverty and into its growing middle class, and in the last quarter of the twentieth century Botswana’s gross domestic product per capita grew faster than that of any other country on the planet. The once-labeled “Third World” is edging its way into the “First World.” Add to these observations the recent debt and financial crises that have battered the United States and Europe, and it becomes clear that the future prosperity of the global economy depends as never before on sustained growth in emerging markets as well as on the stabilization of our own shaky ground. Interdependence is paramount. In the years ahead, everyone will win or everyone will lose, and the outcome hinges critically on whether advanced nations muster the humility required to absorb and embrace the Third World’s lessons for First World growth.
How did we arrive at this reversal of fortune? Not so long ago China seemed hopelessly mired in poverty, Mexico triggered the Third World Debt Crisis, and Brazil experienced one of the world’s highest rates of inflation. How did these countries, and many others like them, engineer such a stunning economic turnaround? The answer, in a word, is discipline. Just as an individual’s ability to delay gratification at a young age is a powerful predictor of future academic and professional achievement, discipline is also central to the long-run economic health of nations. The point sounds almost too obvious to state, but the definition of “discipline” that emerges from a historical analysis of the Third World’s remarkable transformation may take you by surprise.
In the current economic and political climate, pundits and policy-makers of all stripes erroneously equate discipline with possessing the courage to adopt extreme measures. In the fiscal debate raging across the United States and Europe, British prime minister David Cameron and German chancellor Angela Merkel assert that austerity now—massive deficit reduction—is the way to get advanced economies back on track, while Nobel Prize–winning economist Paul Krugman argues that governments need to maintain deficit spending until robust growth resumes. A government decision that slashes spending at the wrong time and sends a weak economy into a tailspin can be just as undisciplined as one that unleashes a wasteful spending spree in an overheated environment. Discipline does not call for crash diets or binge eating, but rather for healthy habits practiced consistently over a lifetime.
Discipline occasionally calls for extraordinary measures, but most of the time discretion is the better part of valor. Good economic pol-icy requires not so much the bravado to implement drastic change as the strength and wisdom to make reasonable trade-offs over the many years it takes to transform a country’s standard of living. Discipline in this context means self-control and a sustained commitment to the future, resisting the temptation to adopt policies that tilt entirely in one ideological direction or another and opting instead for the vigilant pursuit of a pragmatic middle road to prosperity.
Discipline also has a certain periodicity. Fluctuating across time and location, it is not an inherent trait forever present in some countries and permanently absent from others. Germany, a country that many people view as the epitome of self-control, printed radically large quantities of money during the 1920s, plunging the nation into record hyperinflation and economic chaos. More recently, the US government’s acrimonious disagreement over the federal debt ceiling and near-default on its financial obligations in the summer of 2011 displayed a level of reckless behavior that few people would previously have thought possible for Uncle Sam. Developed countries are no longer the paragons of restraint that they imagine them-selves to be.









