Chinese Domestic Economy

The Easiest Company in the World to Run

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If you could be the boss of any company in the world, with your pay package completely tied to performance, which would you choose? If you answered Kweichow Moutai Ltd., congratulations. You couldn’t have made a better choice.

For those who don’t know this company, it is the largest and by far most successful distiller of China’s favored prestige alcoholic drink. There is no faster-growing, large spirits company anywhere in the world. Better still, if you do become boss, there’s just about nothing you could do short of outright criminality that would in any way slow its stupefying growth rate.  In 2010, sales rose by about 20% to over $2.2 billion. So strong and constant is the demand for the company’s product that their major headache is preventing designated retailers from raising the price above the already sky-high levels fixed by the company.

During 2010, the street price of a bottle of Moutai’s highest-end brew, called Feitian, doubled from Rmb 700 ($105) to over Rmb1,300 ($200). The raw material cost? Probably under Rmb10 per bottle.  Getting a fix on its real level of profitability is hard to do. But, in my estimation, there is no more profitable liquid mass-produced anywhere in the world. Make no mistake. Moutai is not 25-year-old Courvoisier. Chinese love the stuff. But, it is a species of what Americans would call “rockgut”, distilled from a low-end grain called sorghum and then diluted with water drawn from springs surrounding the distillery in Guizhou province.

When I first came to China 30 years ago, a bottle of Moutai cost no more than a few dollars. It’s the same stuff today, brewed according to a Qing Dynasty formula. The main difference is that over 30 years, the price has gone up 30-fold. And no, that’s not because sorghum prices have skyrocketed.

So, what explains Moutai’s astounding success? Simple math. More and more Chinese chasing an insufficient supply of the country’s highest-end liquor brand. Consumption of bottled liquor has grown by 20% over the last five years, and shows no sign of slowing. Moutai plans to double its output over the next four years, then double it again by 2020. Overall, the plan is to increase output by 2.5 times in next nine years.

At the start of the year,  Moutai put in a price cap, to try to stop its retailers selling Feitian for over Rmb959 a bottle.  The price immediately shot up over Rmb1,200. Seeing the Moutai fly off the shelves, retailers then imposed limits on the number of bottles a customer could buy at one time. Supply restricted, the price just kept climbing.

Packaging and marketing are pretty much unchanged over the last 30 years. Along withTsingtao beer, it’s one of the few branded products in China to stick to the old and clumsy pre-revolution spelling of its name. The company is called Kweichow Moutai but no one knows it under that name. In China, it is pronounced “Gway-Joe Mao-Tai”.

Good, bad or indifferent, whoever is the CEO of this company (the current incumbent is Yuan Renguo) will certainly succeed in keeping things buoyant. As long as Chinese keep making money, they are going to spend a percentage on Moutai. The company has even achieved some success in export markets lately, with sales rising 55% to $50mn in 2010.

If Mr. Yuan chooses early retirement and wants to bring in some foreign blood at the top, I’m available to take over. I’ve been to Guizhou, most recently just two weeks ago,  and like the scenery and the food. I also know how (thanks to a Guizhou client)  to evaluate the quality of Moutai: you rub a bit between your palms. If it smells like soy sauce, it’s the real thing.

The only snag: I’m not much of a fan of the company’s product. Since moving to China, I’ve had enough of it to pickle a goodly portion of my liver. But, it’s still an unacquired taste. Drinking good cognac or Armagnac familiarizes you with the aromas of peat and oak. Drinking Moutai familiarizes you with how instantaneously alcohol can go from gullet to bloodstream. Most frequently, I can remember drinking Moutai but not how I get home afterward. Maybe that’s the secret to the brand’s success?

 

 

 

Taxed At Source: Renminbi Private Equity Firms Confront the Taxman

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The formula for success in private equity is simple the world over: make lots of money investing other people’s money, keep 20% of the profits and pay little or no taxes on your share of the take. This tax avoidance is perfectly legal. PE firms are usually incorporated as offshore holding companies in tax-free domains like the Cayman Islands.

Depending on their nationality, partners at PE firms may need to pay some tax on the profits distributed to them individually. But, some quick footwork can also keep the taxman at bay. For example, I know PE partners who are Chinese nationals, living in Hong Kong. They plan their lives to be sure not to be in either Hong Kong or China for more than 182 days a year, and so escape most individual taxes as well. Even when they pay, it’s usually at the capital gains rate, which is generally far lower than income tax.

The tax efficiency is fundamental to private equity, and most other forms of fiduciary investing. If the PE firm’s profits were assessed with income tax ahead of distributions to Limited Partners (“LPs”), it would significantly reduce the overall rate of return, to say nothing about potentially incurring double taxation when those LPs share of profits got dinged again by the tax man.

China, as everyone in the PE world knows, is very keen to foster growth of its own homegrown private equity firms. It has introduced a raft of new rules to allow PE firms to incorporate, invest Renminbi and exit via IPO in China. So far so good. The Chinese government is also pouring huge sums of its own cash into private equity, either directly through state-owned companies and agencies, or indirectly through the country’s pay-as-you-go social security fund. (See my recent blog post here.)

Exact figures are hard to come by. But, it’s a safe bet that at least Rmb100 billion (USD$15 billion) in capital was committed to domestic private equity firms last year. This year should see even larger number of new domestic PE firms established, and even larger quadrants of capital poured in.

It’s going to be a few years yet before the successful Chinese domestic PE firms start returning significant investment profits to their investors. When they do, their investors will likely be in for something of an unpleasant surprise: the PE firms’ profits, almost certainly, will be reduced by as much as 25% because of income tax.

In other words, along with building a large homegrown PE industry that can rival those of the US and Europe, China is also determined to assess those domestic PE firms with sizable income taxes. These two policy priorities may turn out to be wholly incompatible. PE firms, more than most, have a deep, structural aversion to paying income tax on their profits. For one thing, doing so will cut dramatically into the personal profits earned by PE partners, lowering significantly the after-tax returns for these professionals. If so, the good ones will be tempted to move to Hong Kong to keep more of their share of the profits they earn investing others’ money. If so, then China could get deprived of some experienced and talented PE partners its young industry can ill afford to lose.

It’s still early days for the PE industry in China. Renminbi PE firms really only got started two years ago. I’ve yet to hear any partners of domestic PE firms complain. But, my guess is that the complaining will begin just as soon as these PE firms begin to have successful exits and begin to write very large checks to the Chinese tax bureau. What then?

China’s tax code is nothing if not fluid. New tax rules are announced and implemented on a weekly basis. Sometimes taxes go down. Most often lately, they go up.  Compared to developed countries, changing the tax code in China is simpler, speedier. So, if the Chinese government discovers that taxing PE firms is causing problems, it can reverse the policy rather quickly.

The PE firms will likely argue that taxing their profits will end up hurting hundreds of millions of ordinary Chinese whose pensions will be smaller because the PE firms’ gains are subject to tax. In industry, this is known as the “widows and orphans defense”. Chinese contribute a share of their paycheck to the state pension system, which then invests this amount on their behalf, including about 10% going to PE investment.

PE firms outside China are structured as offshore companies, with offices in places like London, New York and Hong Kong, but a tax presence in low- and no-tax domains. But, there’s currently no real way to do this in China, to raise, invest and earn Renminbi in an offshore entity. Changing that opens up an even larger can of worms, the current restrictions preventing most companies or individuals outside China from holding or investing Renminbi. This restriction plays a key part in China’s all-important Renminbi exchange rate policy, and management of the country’s nearly $2.8 trillion of foreign reserves.

The world’s major PE firms are excitedly now raising Renminbi funds. Several have already succeeded, including Carlyle and TPG. They want access to domestic investment opportunities as well as the high exit multiples on China’s stock market. When and if the income tax rules start to bite and the firm’s partners get a look at their diminished take, they may find the appeal of working and investing in China far less alluring.

 

 

 

CFC’s Latest Research Report Addresses Most Treacherous Issue for Chinese Companies Seeking Domestic IPO

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For Chinese private companies, one obstacle looms largest along the path to an IPO in China: the need to become fully compliant with China’s tax and accounting rules.  This process of becoming “规范” (or “guifan” in Pinyin)  is not only essential for any Chinese company seeking private equity and an eventual IPO, it is also often the most difficult, expensive, and tedious task a Chinese entrepreneur will ever undertake.

More good Chinese companies are shut out from capital markets or from raising private equity because of this “guifan” problem than any other reason. It is also the most persistent challenge for all of us active in the PE industry and in assisting SME to become publicly-traded businesses.

My firm has just published a Chinese-language research report on the topic, titled “民营企业上市规范问题”. You can download a copy by clicking here or from Research Reports page of the CFC website.

The report was written specifically for an audience of Chinese SME bosses, to provide them both with analysis and recommendations on how to manage this process successfully.  Our goal here (as with all of our research reports) is to provide tools for Chinese entrepreneurs to become leaders in their industry, and eventually leaders on the stock market. That means more PE capital gets deployed, more private Chinese companies stage successful exits and most important, China’s private sector economy continues its robust growth.

For English-only speakers, here’s a summary of some of the key points in the report:

  1. The process of becoming “guifan” will almost always mean that a Chinese company must begin to invoice all sales and purchases, and so pay much higher rates of tax, two to three years before any IPO can take place
  2. The higher tax rate will mean less cash for the business to invest in its own expansion. This, in turn, can lead to an erosion in market share, since “non-guifan” competitors will suddenly enjoy significant cost advantages
  3. Another likely consequence of becoming “guifan” – significantly lower net margins. This, in turn, impacts valuation at IPO
  4. The best way to lower the impact of “guifan” is to get more cash into the business as the process begins, either new bank lending or private equity. This can replenish the money that must now will go to pay the taxman, and so pump up the capital available to expansion and re-investment
  5. As a general rule, most  Chinese private companies with profits of at least Rmb30mn can raise at least five times more PE capital than they will pay in increased annual taxes from becoming “guifan”. A good trade-off, but not a free lunch
  6. For a PE fund, it’s necessary to accept that some of the money they invest in a private Chinese company will go, in effect, to pay Chinese taxes. But, since only “guifan” companies will get approved for a domestic Chinese IPO, the higher tax payments are like a toll payment to achieve exit at China’s high IPO valuations
  7. After IPO, the company will have plenty of money to expand its scale and so, in the best cases, claw back any cost disadvantage or net margin decline during the run-up to IPO

We spend more time dealing with “guifan” issues than just about anything else in our client work. Often that means working to develop valuation methodologies that allow our clients to raise PE capital without being excessively penalized for any short-term decrease in net income caused by “guifan” process.

Along with the meaty content, the report also features fifteen images of Tang Dynasty “Sancai ceramics, perhaps my favorite among all of China’s many sublime styles of pottery.



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Is US Right to Fear China’s Industrial Policy?

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A particularly – and atypically – alarmist article ran recently in the Wall St. Journal titled “U.S. Firms, China in Tech War” . You can read it here ( WSJ Article) and decide for yourself. The thrust is that Chinese national policy has shifted in recent years, making it more difficult for Western government companies to win government contracts and protect their most valuable intellectual property. According to the Journal, it’s part of a new “Chinese industrial policy” to transform China into a hothouse of homegrown leading edge technologies, with companies able to challenge American supremacy.

It makes good copy. According to the article, the issues are of such portent that President Obama discussed them directly with China’s leader, Hu Jintao, during the latter’s visit to the US last month. The article cites a fretful report from the US Chamber of Commerce in China, titled “China’s Drive for ‘Indigenous Innovation’: A Web of Industrial Policies”.  The report claims China is building an “intricate web of new rules considered by many international technology companies to be a blueprint for technology theft on a scale the world has never seen before.”

To me, it seems that the Journal may be guilty of mistaking cause for effect. Is China pursuing a nationalist domestic procurement policy? Most likely, just as the US and virtually every other developed country does. Will this make it harder for non-Chinese companies to sell gear to China’s government agencies?  Quite probably. Are Chinese rules crafted in such a way to make it obligatory for Western companies to transfer their technology to Chinese partners? Seems to be the case.

But, will any of this actually achieve the stated goal? Here, I’m a lot less agitated than the Americans quoted in the Journal article. The reason is also found in the same article, which makes a passing reference to similar rules in place in Japan, Korea, Germany and elsewhere. Fat lot of good they’ve done those countries.  Their aggressive “buy local” rules, and other protectionist measures to “nurture” domestic innovation have done little to nothing to achieve their stated aim. In fact, the opposite is the case. If you want to draw up a list of the countries that have lost significant ground to the US in new technologies over the last twenty years, you can start with those that pursued similar regimes to China.

Twenty years ago, France, Germany and Japan all had large, well-known computer companies. Today, Bull, Nixdorf and NEC are either bankrupt or laughing stocks. Their governments’ passionate embrace turned out to be a kiss of death.

The same is true in the industries that the US government has chosen to support and nourish with subsidies and protection. Think about the billions wasted (or as our current US administration tabs it “invested” ) on “alternative energy” and “clean transport” in the US.

Industrial policy, in almost all cases, has a track record untainted by success. There are a lot of good reasons for this, but the most fundamental of all is that government officials, however well-schooled and well-meaning, have no competence to choose winning technologies, and certainly do so with far diminished effectiveness than an open, vibrant market of billions of customers.

Governments all love command and control. The problem is they can only do one of the two. Commanding your citizens to produce advanced products, and lavishing subsidies and protection on those who pay attention to you, is not the same as controlling which technologies will prove most useful, as well as most time- and money-saving.

Yes, this system can produce bullet trains in Japan and China, and maglev trains in Germany. Problem is, no one else wants to buy them, and your citizens are mainly too busy and happy futzing around on Facebook or Google to much care about any of this.

If China does favor domestic technology companies, the risk is these companies produce just enough innovation to please their government customers. But,  like Bull, Nixdorf and NEC, they will produce nothing that anyone else with free choice will care to buy.

Sure, I’d like US companies to have a better crack at the Chinese market. But, then again, I’d like some of my Chinese clients to have a better crack also at the Japanese, Korean and European markets they are often shut out of. Governments by their nature, sadly, are usually protectionist and nationalist. China is no different. The US has often tried to keep these malign instincts at bay. But, my homeland has all kinds of “buy American” favoritism in place for government contracts.

Innovation is important. But, often enough, it’s good marketing, pricing and efficient global distribution that wins customers, and generates the profits to reinvest in more new ideas and products. I don’t know of a single great technology company that relies on its national government as a main customer. Those that do so, like SAIC in the US or EADS in Europe, often end up falling behind the technology curve.

US companies have every right to complain about unfair procurement policies in China. There’s no solid ground, however, for believing that these same policies will result in China producing world-beating technology companies in the future. One of the surest way to find the failed technology companies of the future is to search for those whose main customers are their own nation’s bureaucrats.


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Toiling from Tang Dynasty to Today – Buying a House in Beijing

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How long would it take an ordinary Chinese peasant to save up and buy a nice apartment in Beijing? You’ll need to brush up on your dynastic history.

1,400 years ago, as the Tang Dynasty dawned in China, a peasant began farming a small plot of decent land 6mu (one acre) in size. Every year, in addition to providing for his family’s needs, he was able to earn a small profit by selling his surplus. His son followed him on the land, and maintained his father’s steady output and steady profit. Same with is children, and children’s children, through the Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing Dynasties into the Republican period and then the modern era marked by the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949, down to present day.

Some 280 generations later, there should now be just about enough in the family bank account for the family to pay cash for a new two-bedroom apartment in Beijing. This is assuming no withdrawals from the bank account during that time, and even more unlikely, no bad years due to floods, famine, locusts, rebellion.

I heard this calculation second hand, and so can’t check the figures. But, it certainly has a ring of truth about it. Property prices in Beijing particularly, but other large cities as well, have reached levels utterly disconnected from average earning levels, especially in rural China.  New apartments can now cost over USD$1 million. Prices continue to rise by over 5% a month, despite aggressive actions by government to curb the increases in residential property prices. According to the Wall Street Journal, “Housing prices in the U.S. peaked at 6.4 times average annual earnings this decade. In Beijing, the figure is 22 times.”

The collapse of this “housing price bubble” has been widely predicted for years now  — not since the Tang Dynasty, but it sometimes seems that way. The housing price crash was meant to be imminent two years ago, when prices were about 30% of current levels.

Still, they keep rising, most recently and most dramatically in second and third tier cities in China, places like Lanzhou, a provincial capital in arid Western China, where the cost of a 100 square meter apartment has doubled in price in the last year, to about $300,000.  Some apartment owners in Lanzhou earned as much profit  during 2010 from the sale of their property as a typical peasant in surrounding Gansu Province might make in a century.

My prediction is that housing prices may soon peak relative to incomes, but will keep moving upward. There are a few fundamental factors at work that raise the altitude of housing prices: rising affluence, China’s continuing urbanization and a dearth of alternative investment opportunities. Real estate, despite what can seem like dizzying price levels, is often seen to be a safer long-term bet than buying domestically-quoted shares.

Introducing property taxes, and allowing ordinary Chinese to buy assets outside China, would both alter the balance somewhat.  But, many a hard-working peasant is still going to need a thousand years of savings to join the propertied classes in Beijing.


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The Greenest and Maybe Cleanest Vehicle on the Road

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Is this the zero-emissions green vehicle of the future? For the masses, possibly not.  For me personally, maybe so. It’s a battery-powered electric scooter, with solar panels for recharging during daylight hours.

I’ve become a big fan, and a minor authority, on battery-powered electric scooters. I’ve owned a few. A Chinese-made electric scooter was my primary form of urban transportation while living and working in Los Angeles until moving to China last year.

Though I never saw another one on the road in LA, I’m a passionate believer in this mode of transport. In China, electric scooters are almost as common as passenger cars, with upwards of five million sold every year. The streets and sidewalks are crowded with them. They run on lead acid batteries, the same kind used in car batteries.

The electric scooters sold now in China rely on plug-in battery rechargers. That’s the biggest drawback of driving one. Lead acid batteries can take up to eight hours to recharge. This new solar-powered recharger should solve that problem. The battery recharges automatically as you ride around, as long as there’s sunlight. Assuming the solar recharger works, this electric scooter becomes a street-legal perpetual motion machine, never needing, at least during daytime, to stop for a recharge.

I met the inventor, Zhao Weiping, at a trade exhibition. I could barely contain my excitement. We discussed the science, the capacity of the solar panels, and the potential to upgrade the batteries to lighter, longer-lasting lithium batteries. He’s only built prototypes so far. He expects the cost, for a base model, to be around Rmb3,000 ($440).

With lithium batteries, the price goes up to around $750. Lithium batteries take half the time to recharge.

Another benefit of lithium: the batteries weigh less than half lead acid ones. Less weight means less drag and so farther range on a full battery and faster top speeds.  Engineer Zhao guesses top speed should be about 50kph (30mph) compared to 30kph (18mph) for lead acid models.

To me, it sounds like the ideal form urban transport: zero emissions, reliable, fast enough to keep up with traffic, and will rarely, if ever, require mains electricity to recharge. In other words, zero cost per kilometer traveled.

It gets better: in much of the US, including California, you don’t need a driver’s license or insurance to drive an electric scooter, and you can drive it legally in bicycle lanes. Of course, few traffic cops know any of these facts. I was pulled over routinely in California, while riding my electric scooter. Eventually, I created a plastic-coated car card with all the relevant clauses of the state traffic code. I’d present it to traffic police, and they’d usually let me head off after a few minutes.

In LA, I drove a Chinese electric scooter upgraded with lithium. Top speed was about 24 mph. Recharging time: four to five hours. As commutes go, my 9-mile trip to work was about as pleasant and relaxing as any could be. Most of my route was along the Pacific Ocean, and then through some of the hipper areas of Santa Monica and Venice. When the roads were crowded at rush hour, I’d switch into the bicycle lane. You can park anywhere on the sidewalk, just like a bicycle.

The biggest hazard is pedestrians. The scooters are so quiet that people don’t hear it coming. I had a few near misses.

I never understood why so few in California ride electric scooters. I never saw another one on the road. California is certainly one of the most environmentally-conscious places on earth. Motorized transport doesn’t get any greener than electric scooters. Zero emissions, zero fossil fuels, zero direct carbon footprint.

Those green credentials were never my main reasons for riding an electric scooter. I liked the convenience, the tranquility, the absence of traffic and the sheer exhilaration of riding it.

Exhilaration, however, is instantly transformed into despair when your battery runs out of juice.  It happened to me a few times, when I miscalculated the range. Open throttle riding, going uphill, lots of stops and starts can all drain the battery rather quickly. The meter showing battery life is, at best, unreliable. When the battery is empty, the scooter will shudder once, then conk out completely.

Run out of fuel with an internal combustion engine, you call the AAA or find a gas station. Run out of electricity with an electric scooter and your only real choice is to push the vehicle home for recharge. I’ve had to do it more than once.

Engineer Zhao’s solar-powered recharger should make that problem less common, if not eliminate it altogether. At worst, if the battery empties, you park it and in daytime, come back in a few hours and drive it away. Limitless range should make for limitless enjoyment.

Yes, but will Engineer Zhao’s machine work? Talking with him, it’s hard not to be confident it will. The solar panels are powerful enough to keep the batteries recharged and light enough not to create a lot of extra drag. The only way to find out, of course, is to get one. I’m thinking now of commissioning Engineer Zhao to build me one, with lithium batteries.

If it works, I’ll help Engineer Zhao get venture capital funding to build his company. My gut tells me I’m not the only one who’d ride around on one, and that there could be a very big market in the US, Europe and China for this solar-charged scooter.

I don’t particularly relish the idea of driving any sort of vehicle on Shenzhen’s streets. Driving is chaotic. Accidents common. Pollution awful. There are no bicycle lanes. But, I’m prepared to put my money – and perhaps my health – on the line to prove this is a vehicle with a future and perhaps even a mass market.

Wish me luck.

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Good News About China’s Food Price Inflation: Chinese Peasants’ Time of Unprecedented Plenty

Bamboo painting from China First Capital blog post

Food prices in China, as everyone inside and outside the country now knows, are rising fast, in some cases by over 30% during 2010. The Chinese government puts some of the blame on speculators who are said to be buying large quantities of fresh food, holding it off the market and then profiting from price increases. There seems to be some evidence of this.

There’s no short-term fix for these price increases. The Chinese government has released for sale some of its food stocks. It is also urging peasants, and local cadres who govern rural China, to make sure more food is grown next year to increase supplies. The peasants probably won’t need any such encouragement.

The increases this year in food prices have done more, in a shorter time, to lift income levels for many of China’s 600 million peasants than any other single measure taken over the last 30 years.

There has never been a  better time, in China’s long agrarian history, to be a peasant. Fundamentally, food price inflation in China represents a colossal transfer of wealth from China’s more affluent urban areas to the rural hinterland where half of China’s population still lives.

If this lasts, it will narrow the gap in living standards and income levels between China’s cities and countryside. This is one of the overarching goals of the Chinese government. And yet, no one is applauding.

Instead, the Chinese central government has reacted with some alarm to the recent price increases. It knows that higher food prices are putting the squeeze on city-dwellers, including, of course, those in the capital Beijing and other major cities. In China, communist power originally took hold in the countryside, and a lot of party doctrine still speaks about its roots among the peasantry. But, political power today is firmly rooted in urban areas.  China’s political, economic and cultural elite all live in major cities, as do most of their friends and family. So, price rises effect this group directly.

When apples, the staple autumn fruit in most of China,  almost double in price, as they have this year, political leaders will soon hear about it. The fact that China’s apple farmers now have a lot more money in their pockets is not necessarily part of the political calculus.

Yet, it is undeniable that the fastest and most effective way to raise peasant living standards and real incomes is higher farm prices that don’t fuel overall inflation. There are signs that’s now the case, that the only area of significant double-digit inflation is in food prices. If so, this is unquestionably the best time in Chinese history to be tilling the land.

How long will this last? Of course, commonly, a spike in food prices leads to overall price levels rising as well. This can erode, or even wipe out,  the rise in income for farmers from higher food prices. Also, today’s high prices will certainly lead to more land being cultivated next year, as farmers chase the fat profits from today’s prices.

I was just in Jiangsu Province, in central China, and it seemed like most of the farmland is under plastic cover this winter, allowing peasants to keep growing and selling vegetables. Supply goes up, price comes down. Eventually.

How high are food prices at present? Looking around my local covered market, prices in the stalls for many fruits and vegetables are now as higher or higher than prices commonly seen in the US. Looking just at autumn fruit, apples are about $1 a pound; navel oranges around 60 cents; clementines about $1 a pound; bananas are 50 cents a pound. Meat prices have risen sharply.

Pork remains comparatively cheap at about $2 a pound, but chicken is quite a bit higher here. Garlic and ginger, the two fundamental staples of all Chinese cooking, are both at all-time highs of around $1 a pound.

So far, in my experience, higher food prices haven’t yet fed through to higher prices at restaurants, noodle shops or even the outdoor steamer wagon where I buy corn-on-the-cob and potatoes as snacks. This means restaurant margins must be hurting. One notable exception, McDonalds in China. They recently announced price increases to counter effect of rising raw material costs.  With about 900 restaurants in China, all in larger cities, McDonalds feeds a lot of people.

Wages are also rising very steeply in urban China, as is household wealth for anyone who owns property. This seems to be allowing most urban Chinese to absorb higher food costs without much of a fuss.

In other words, just about everyone across this country of 1.4 billion is doing much better, year by year. For now, the 600 million peasants are doing best of all. Viewed across the breadth of China’s long history, no less than across the last 30 years of unparalleled economic progress, this is a singularly welcome development.

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CFC’s New Research Report, Assessing Some Key Differences in IPO Markets for Chinese Companies

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For Chinese entrepreneurs, there has never been a better time to become a publicly-traded company.  China’s Shenzhen Stock Exchange is now the world’s largest and most active IPO market in the world. Chinese companies are also active raising billions of dollars of IPO capital abroad, in Hong Kong and New York.

The main question successful Chinese entrepreneurs face is not whether to IPO, but where.

To help entrepreneurs make that decision, CFC has just completed a research study and published its latest Chinese language research report. The report, titled “民营企业如何选择境内上市还是境外上市” (” Offshore or Domestic IPO – Assessing Choices for Chinese SME”) analyzes advantages and disadvantages for Chinese SME  of IPO in China, Hong Kong, USA as well as smaller markets like Singapore and Korea.

The report can be downloaded from the Research Reports section of the CFC website , or by clicking here:  CFC’s IPO Difference Report (民营企业如何选择境内上市还是境外上市)

We want the report to help make the IPO decision-making process more fact-based, more successful for entrepreneurs. According to the report, there are three key differences between a domestic or offshore IPO. They are:

  1. Valuation, p/e multiples
  2. IPO approval process – cost and timing of planning an IPO
  3. Accounting and tax rules

At first glance, most Chinese SME bosses will think a domestic IPO on the Shanghai or Shenzhen Stock Exchanges is always the wiser choice, because p/e multiples at IPO in China are generally at least twice the level in Hong Kong or US. But, this valuation differential can often be more apparent than real. Hong Kong and US IPOs are valued on a forward p/e basis. Domestic Chinese IPOs are valued on trailing year’s earnings. For a fast-growing Chinese company, getting 22X this year’s earnings in Hong Kong can yield more money for the company than a domestic IPO t 40X p/e, using last year’s earnings.

Chasing valuations is never a good idea. Stock market p/e ratios change frequently. The gap between domestic Chinese IPOs and Hong Kong and US ones has been narrowing for most of this year. Regulations are also continuously changing. As of now, it’s still difficult, if not impossible, for a domestically-listed Chinese company to do a secondary offering. You only get one bite of the capital-raising apple. In Hong Kong and US markets, a company can raise additional capital, or issue convertible debt, after an IPO.  This factor needs to be kept very much in mind by any Chinese company that will continue to need capital even after a successful domestic IPO.

We see companies like this frequently. They are growing so quickly in China’s buoyant domestic market that even a domestic IPO and future retained earnings may not provide all the expansion capital they will need.

Another key difference: it can take three years or more for many Chinese companies to complete the approval process for a domestic IPO. Will the +70X p/e  multiples now available on Shenzhen’s ChiNext market still be around then? It’s impossible to predict. Our advice to Chinese entrepreneurs is make the decision on where to IPO by evaluating more fundamental strengths and weaknesses of China’s domestic capital markets and those abroad, including differences in investor behavior, disclosure rules, legal liability.

China’s stock market is driven by individual investors. Volatility tends to be higher than in Hong Kong and the US, where most shares are owned by institutions.

One factor that is equally important for either domestic or offshore IPO: an SME will have a better chance of a successful IPO if it has private equity investment before its IPO. The transition to a publicly-listed company is complex, with significant risks. A PE investor can help guide an SME through this process, lowering the risks and costs in an IPO.

As the report emphasizes, an IPO is a financing method, not a goal by itself. An IPO will usually be the lowest-cost way for a private business to raise capital for expansion.  Entrepreneurs need to be smart about how to use capital markets most efficiently, for the purposes of building a bigger and better company.


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The Middle Kingdom’s Mighty Middle Class

Ming Jiajing from China First Capital blog post

China recently overtook Japan to become the world’s second-largest economy. China’s population, of course,  is ten times larger than Japan’s. So, per capita, China is still one-tenth as affluent as its Asian neighbor.

A far more important, if little noticed, economic trend is that China’s middle class is now far larger than Japan’s. Indeed, the Chinese middle class will soon surpass, if it hasn’t already,  America’s, and so become the largest middle class country in the world.

There is no standard definition of “middle class”. So, measuring the number of people falling within this category is an imprecise science. It generally refers to people whose household income allows them to enjoy all the comforts of life well-above pure subsistence: these include vacations, air-conditioned homes, the full assortment of labor-saving home appliances, personal transport, and sufficient savings to cope with shorter-term economic problems like unemployment or a health emergency.

In China, by my estimate, there are at least 250-300 million people who now fall into this category. This is an economic achievement of almost unimaginable scale. Thirty years ago, there was no “middle class” in China, and but for a tiny group of top or well-connected party officials, virtually no one in the country of 1.4 billion could be described as living above basic subsistence.

Today, China has more internet and mobile phone users than anywhere on the planet. It is the world’s largest market for new cars. Housing prices across the country, in most of the major cities, are at or above the average levels in the US.

These housing prices are a big reason for the swift rise in the middle class in China. With few exceptions, anyone who owns a home in a Chinese city can now be considered middle class. That’s because most urban housing now is worth at least $50,000-$70,000. In major cities like Shanghai, Beijing or Shenzhen, housing prices are now among the highest in the world, and so just about every property-owner is sitting on an asset worth well in excess of $100,000.

Most Chinese either own their homes outright, or have mortgages that represent less than 50% of the home’s current value. Even in more rural parts of China, there are tens of millions of home-owners who have equity of at least $20,000 in their home.

Unlike in the US, Chinese can’t easily tap into the wealth locked up in their homes by taking out second mortgages. But, the wealth effects are still very real in China. People know how much their home is worth, have confidence the price will likely continue to appreciate. So, spending habits can reflect this.

In fact, most Chinese have a better idea of the current value of their homes than anyone in the US or Europe. That’s because property is sold based on price per-square-meter, and everyone in China seems to know that current value of the square meters they own. The Chinese government has been trying for the last sixth months, with limited success, to moderate the fast rise in property prices across the country.  Most housing has appreciated by at least 15% this year.

Housing is the main bedrock of middle class status in China. But, salaries are also rising sharply across the board in the professional class (as well as those working in factories), putting more cash in people’s pockets. The stock market has also become a major additional source and store of wealth.

It’s a common characteristic of the middle class everywhere to feel a little dissatisfied, and a little anxious about one’s economic future and ability to remain among the more better-off. This is very noticeable in China as well. Many of China’s middle class don’t consider themselves that comfortable.

The pace of social and economic change is so swift, and prices for many middle-class staples like cars, foreign vacations and housing are so high,  that people don’t have a real sense of “having made it’.  They also fret about their retirement, about saving enough to put their kids through the best schools, about job security. In other words, they’re very much like the middle class in the US.

Middle class spending is the single most important source of economic activity in the US. This isn’t yet true of China, but each year, it will become more important. This reality should be at the top of the agenda for boardroom planning at companies in China and much of the rest of the world. China’s middle class will become a market not only larger in size, but in purchasing power, than America’s.

China’s very rich (it now has more billionaires than any other country except the US) and poor tend to be the focus on most of the reporting by the world’s financial press. They are generally blind to the most significant development of all, the emergence over the last ten years of an enormous middle class in China. Without a doubt, more Chinese join the middle class each year than in the US, Europe and Japan combined.

Remember, many of the most successful global businesses in the US over the last 50 years – Ford, McDonalds, Disney, Coca-Cola, P&G, Wal-Mart to name just a few – got that way by focusing originally on selling to America’s middle class. China’s middle class is fast becoming an even richer target.

Anyone selling services or products for the middle class ought to find a way to do so in China. Quickly.

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ChiNext: One Year Later, Celebrating a Success

Zhou dynasty from China First Capital blog post

This past Saturday, October 30,  marked the one year anniversary of the founding of the ChiNext (创业板) stock market. In my view, the ChiNext has been a complete and unqualified success, and should be a source of pride and satisfaction to everyone involved in China’s financial industry. And yet, there’s quite a lot of complaining and grumbling going on, about high share prices, high p/e multiples,  “underperformance” by ChiNext companies, and the potentially destabilizing effect of insiders’ share sales when their 12-month lockup period ends.

Let’s look at the record. Over the last year, the board has grown from the original 28 companies to 134, and raised a total of 94.8 billion yuan ($14bn). For those 134 companies, as well as hundreds more now queuing up for their ChiNext IPO, this new stock market is the most important thing to ever happen in China’s capital markets.

Make no mistake, without the ChiNext, those 134 companies would be struggling to overcome a chronic shortage of growth capital. That Rmb 94.8 billion in funding has supported the creation of thousands of new jobs,  more indigenous R&D in China, and provided a new and powerful incentive system for entrepreneurs to improve their internal controls and accounting as a prelude to a planned ChiNext IPO.

China’s retail investors have responded with enthusiasm to the launch of ChiNext, and support those high p/e multiples of +50X at IPO. It is investors, after all, who bid up the price of ChiNext shares, and by doing so, allow private companies to raise more capital with less dilution. Again, that is a wholly positive development for entrepreneurship in China.

Will some investors lose money on their investments in ChiNext companies? Of course. That’s the way all stock markets work. The purpose of a stock market is not to give investors a “one way bet”. It is to allocate capital.

I was asked by a Bloomberg reporter this past week for my views on ChiNext. Here, according to his transcript,  is some of what I told him.

“For the first time ever, the flow of capital in China is beginning to more accurately mirror where the best growth opportunities are. ChiNext is an acknowledgement by the government of the vital importance of entrepreneurial business to China’s continued economic prosperity. ChiNext allocates growth capital to businesses that most need and deserve it, and helps address a long-standing problem in China’s economy: capital being mainly allocated to state-owned companies. The ChiNext is helping spur a huge increase of private equity capital now flowing to China’s private companies. Within a year my guess is the number of private equity firms and the capital they have to invest in China will both double.”

A market economy functions best when capital can flow to the companies that can earn the highest risk-adjusted return. This is what the ChiNext now makes possible.

Yes, financial theory would argue that ChiNext prices are “too high”, on a p/e basis. Sometimes share prices are “too high”, sometimes they are “too low”, as with many Chinese companies quoted on the Singapore stock market. A company’s share price does not always have a hard-wired correlation to the actual value and performance of the company. That’s why most good laoban seldom look at their share price. It has little, if anything, to do with the day-to-day issues of building a successful company.

Some of the large shareholders in ChiNext companies will likely begin selling their shares as soon as their lock-up period ends. For PE firms, the lock-up ends 12 months after an IPO. If a PE firm sells its shares, however, it doesn’t mean the company itself is going sour. PE firms exist to invest, wait for IPO, then sell and use that money to repay their investors, as well as invest in more companies. It’s the natural cycle of risk capital, and again, promotes overall capital efficiency.

There are people in China arguing that IPO rules should be tightened, to make sure all companies going public on ChiNext will continue to thrive after their IPO. That view is misplaced. For one thing, no one can predict the future performance of any business. But, in general, China’s capital market don’t need more regulations to govern the IPO process. China already has more onerous IPO regulations than any other major stock market in the world.

The objective of a stock market is to let  investors, not regulators, decide how much capital a company should be given.  If a company uses the capital well, its value will increase. If not, then its shares will certainly sink. This is a powerful incentive for ChiNext company management to work hard for their shareholders. The other reason: current rules prohibit the controlling shareholders of ChiNext companies from selling shares within the first three years of an IPO.

The ChiNext is not a path to quick riches for entrepreneurs in China. It is, instead, the most efficient way to raise the most capital at the lowest price to finance future growth. In the end, everyone in China benefits from this. The ChiNext is, quite simply,  a Chinese financial triumph.


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China’s Economy: From Red Light to Highlights

Cinnabar Enamel snuff bottle from China First Capital blog post

After 30 years of economic progress unparalleled in human history, China can rewrite the rules on which leading economic indicators are most important to track.  I want to nominate a new one: the rate at which brothels are converted to beauty parlors.

At least in my Shenzhen neighborhood, this indicator is certainly at an all-time high. In the last four months, two rather seedy massage and KTV parlors have undergone very lavish renovation and reopened as large, expensive, multi-floored hair-dressing salons.

The clear implication: you can make more money in China these days selling perms and dye jobs than selling sex. This is an economic change in China of historic, if under-appreciated, importance.

Shenzhen has long had a reputation as one of the red light capitals of China. Some of the reasons: proximity to Hong Kong, a transient population made up largely of economic migrants, a local government with more of a laissez-faire attitude than elsewhere in China.

I can’t imagine anyone but the local police are keeping count, but I’d guess there must be thousands of places in the city offering sex for cash. These range from tiny storefronts with five to ten girls in folding chairs, to all manner of sauna, massage and KTV joints, most, but not all of which, augment their more legitimate offerings with the paid option to take one of the hostesses home with you, or do a little groping on the premises.

Or so I’m told. I know it may sound either prudish or disingenuous, but I’ve never been a customer of one of these places. I do, however, marvel at the variety and number of places selling sex here. The five-minute walk from my house to the local supermarket takes me past two big neon-lit places, called 会所, or “clubs” with touts out front and some heavily made-up ladies within. Down two smaller alleys are small storefront brothels.

In the building where I live, one of the fancier ones in my neighborhood, business cards are slipped under my door most every night offering “home delivery services”. They stress the a variety of women available, including  nurses, college students, migrants, mistresses, foreigners.

This is the part of Shenzhen’s sex trade I most deeply object to. The cards are put under every door. The photos on the card are of naked women.  My next-door neighbors include Chinese families with young kids. It’s unseemly, and I’ve complained numerous times to the doormen, but they claim not to know who is responsible for distributing the cards. My guess is they are paid to look the other way.

The economics of hair-dressing are certainly more favorable than the economics of prostitution. It’s not unusual for a woman to spend Rmb200-300 or more on a haircut and shampoo. Get your hair colored and the price can double. Though there are already dozens of hair salons in my neighborhood, they all seem to be jam-packed at all hours of the day. That never looks to be the case of the places selling sex. They always seem empty, over-staffed and under-patronized.

One thing hairdressers and brothels have in common,  the busiest time is 9pm-1am. Hairdressers, most of whom are men, earn a pretty good living, making around USD$1,000 a month. But, they work long hours, usually 12 hours a day. Most of the customers are women, but these places also cater to men. I pay Rmb 50 for a haircut and no shampoo. That’s a little less than the cost of a haircut at the joint I used to go to in LA’s Koreatown.

Every new beauty parlor that opens is confirmation of some larger economic trends in China.  Women have more disposable income, and more of an inclination to spend it on fashion, cosmetics, or a new hairstyle.  Prices are quickly reaching levels similar to those in the US. In Shenzhen, a young woman can now easily earn as much every month sitting at a desk in an office as sitting in a storefront brothel. That is probably a change from a few years ago.

China’s economy is changing quickly from export-dependence to a reliance on the domestic market, from dominance of manufacturing to the rise of the service sector. In my part of Shenzhen, what’s changing most quickly: who is serving what to whom for how much.



Big Economy, Small Cash

100 yuan notes

 

How’s this for a monetary paradox: the world’s fastest-growing major economy, the second-largest economy in the world, with more billionaires than any country except the US, has a currency whose highest denominated bill is worth less than that of any developed country in the world, as well as many of the poorest ones. 

We’re talking, of course, about China. The largest denominated bill is the red 100 yuan note. At today’s exchange rate, it’s worth about $15. It’s been the largest bill in circulation for the last eleven years. During that time, China’s economy has more than tripled in size. ATM machines have become pervasive. Prices for many things have reached American levels. 

Credit cards are still rare. Chinese do most of their buying, even of big ticket items, in cash. It’s not uncommon, for example, to pay for cars and houses completely in cash – using enough cash to fill either the car trunk, or a kitchen refrigerator. Because hospitals in China take cash and demand upfront payment before any treatment, most Chinese keep a stash of emergency cash at home of many thousands of renminbi.

Among the affluent Chinese bosses I know, it’s common to carry both a wallet and a kind of “guy purse” where they keep Rmb30,000-Rmb50,000 in cash.  It’s like carrying around a small brick  — and just as obvious. 

Next door to me in Hong Kong, the highest bill is circulation is HKD1,000, worth over eight times the 100 yuan note. In Taiwan, the biggest bill in circulation is NTD2,000, worth five times more than the 100 yuan note. In Singapore, it’s a $10,000 note. To use renminbi to get one, you’d need 500 of the 100 yuan notes. 

For lots of reasons, macro and micro, China urgently needs larger denominated currency. Yet, it’s very unlikely to get it anytime soon. 

A main reason, as far as I can determine, is a justifiable fear of mass counterfeiting. In China, counterfeit bills are already rife. Before moving to China, I never knowingly handled a counterfeit note. Here, I’ve already twice been given counterfeit bills as change, and then got stuck with them. 

You’d think, of course, that most of the counterfeit Chinese bills would be the 100 yuan note. In fact, most of the fakes in circulation are 10 and 20 yuan notes, each worth so little it’s hardly worth the expense and risk of producing the forgeries. 

What’s going on here? Though it’s the highest denominated bill, the 100 yuan note has a very unusual pattern of circulation. It’s never given as change, since it’s the largest bill. As a result, individuals get their 100 yuan notes almost exclusively direct from the bank, either an ATM or at the counter. These bills are usually new, or nearly new, and all are checked to make sure they are genuine. 

When you then use the notes, they are usually checked again by the receiver to be sure they are not counterfeit. Since they can’t be used as change, whoever got the 100 yuan as payment will almost certainly return them to the bank. Any bills that are not in perfect condition get scrapped. This is particularly true in larger cities. One result is every time I go to withdraw money from an ATM, I’ll get only brand-new bills. Even in the rare cases when I’ve been given a lot of 100 yuan notes by someone, usually as repayment, they are also almost always in mint condition. 

If China ever did introduce a 500 yuan note (worth about $65), then the 100 yuan notes would start to be used as change. Counterfeiting would almost certainly explode. The incentives, compared to today, would be overwhelming. The logistics needed to combat it almost incomprehensible. Most stores, even small ones, have machines at every cash register to detect counterfeits. But, lots of commerce in China is still hand-to-hand, in wholesale and retail markets as well as street vendors. 

There’s no realistic way to protect these tens of  millions of small businesses and traders from the punishing risks of getting stuck with phony bills.  When the cost of wrongly accepting a single fake bill, as now, is usually 10 yuan ($1.50), it’s unfortunate, but manageable. If it becomes $15, it’s easy to foresee that these tens of millions of businesses would refuse to accept 100 yuan notes from customers. The result: lots of disruption to established patterns of trade across all of China. 

At its current pace, China’s economy will double again in the next seven years. Will the 100 yuan note still be the largest in circulation then? My money says it will be. 

 



Qinghai Province – The Biggest Small Place in China

Taersi

In most things to do with China, the “law of big numbers” applies. A population of 1.4 billion mandates that. So, whether it’s the fact there are over 50 cities larger than Rome, provinces with populations larger than any European country, or that more of just about everything is sold every year in China than anywhere else, the reality of China’s huge population is always a hulking presence.

Except for Qinghai Province. Here, the numbers are so small Qinghai can seem like one of the Baltic States. The province is a little larger than France, yet has a population of only 5.2 million, or 0.3% of China’s total. The capital city, Xining, where I’m now writing this, has about one million residents. Tibet to the south and Xinjiang to the north are both autonomous regions, rather than provinces. Both are far more well-known and talked-about, both inside China and out, and benefit from much more investment from the central government.

Qinghai is unlike anywhere I’ve been in China. It is so empty as to be almost desolate. Xining is in the midst of a very rapid transformation from a dusty low-rise backwater to a more obviously modern Chinese city, with high rises, two new expressways, broad boulevards and shiny new shops selling brands familiar in other parts of the country. It sits alongside a tributary of the Yellow River, wedged like a sliver between low barren brown mountains.

Xining is also the most conspicuously multi-cultural city I’ve been to in China, with a Han majority sharing the city with a large contingent of Tibetans, and a very significant population of Hui Moslems. The Dongguan mosque, on the city’s main street, is one of the largest in China. As many as 30,000 people can worship there. Every twenty paces or so you’ll pass a small brazier with a Hui cook barbecuing lamb kebabs.  Most also sell yak milk yogurt. It’s delicious, in case you’re wondering.

The Tibetans are more concentrated outside Xining. Qinghai makes up most of the Tibetan region of Amdo, and much of the province’s landmass is inhabited by Tibetan herdsmen. The current Dalai Lama was born not far from Xining, and had some of his first schooling at Kumbum Monastery, a 450 year-old establishment that has long been among the most important sites of religious worship and study for Tibetan Buddhists.

Kumbum is a half-hour drive from Xining.  I’ve wanted to go there for about 30 years, and finally got the chance on this trip. I always felt a pull towards Kumbum because it was established to venerate Tsongkhapa, the founder of the Gelugpa tradition in Tibetan Buddhism. I’ve lived for the last 15 years with a beautiful thangka of Tsongkhapa, and hang it near where I sleep. Here it is:


Tsongkhapa

If I had a patron saint, it would be him. Tsongkhapa was born where the Monastery now sits, in a small mountain village. The Monastery spreads lengthwise about one mile up a hillside. At its height, it was home to 3,600 monks. Now there are said to be about 500. A lot of the more ancient buildings were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, and have since been rebuilt. There are also some newer structures in traditional Tibetan monastic style, including one built with a donation from Hong Kong’s richest man, Li Ka-shing.

Tibetan pilgrims circumambulate the important buildings, do their prostrations, and leave offerings of money and butter. They share Kumbum with Chinese tour groups, who are for the most part respectful, attentive.

After visiting the Monastery in a steady drizzle, I went to see a doctor at the nearby hospital. I was feeling just fine, but for a little sleepiness from the high altitude.  I’ve had a long, intense interest in Tibetan medicine, and the hospital here is staffed by lamas educated at Kumbum and graduated with the equivalent of a PhD in Tibetan medicine.

I saw a physician named Lopsang Chunpai, dressed in maroon and yellow monastic robes. He took my pulse, pronounced me healthy, and prescribed a Tibetan herbal medicine called Ratna Sampil, a combination of 70 herbs that is compounded at the hospital. According to the package, it’s used “clearing and activating the channels and collaterals”.

Though I saw only a very small part of it, Qinghai struck me as an especially lovely place:  a wide, open and arid plateau not unlike parts of the American West. Even accepting the cold winter (with temperatures of 20 to 30 degrees below zero centigrade), it’s hard to understand the high vacancy rate here. It’s population density, at 7 people per square kilometer, is 0.3% of Shanghai’s.

It’s empty, of course, because comparatively few Chinese have emigrated here. That seems likely to change. The air is clean, the economy is booming and the infrastructure improvements of recent years are integrating the province much more closely with the highly-populated parts of China to the east.

Neighboring Tibet and Xinjiang have experienced large Han Chinese migration over the last 60 years. Not so Qinghai. Geography is destiny.  Qinghai, unlike Xinjiang and Tibet, does not border any other country. It has far less military and strategic importance. Xinjiang borders Russia and Tibet borders India. China has fought border wars with both.

Xinjiang and Tibet have also both recently had some serious ethnic conflicts, including anti-Chinese riots in both places in the last two years.  Although its population is about 20% Moslem and 20% Tibetan, Qinghai has stayed peaceful. It is China’s melting pot.

Qinghai is rich in mineral resources, including large seams of high-grade coal. As the transport system improves, more Chinese will migrate there to work in mines. Xining, as small as it is, is the only proper city in all of Qinghai.

The ostensible reason for my visit was to speak at a conference on private equity. The provincial government has a target to increase the number of Qinghai companies going public. The mayor of Xining, who I met briefly, was until recently a successful businessman, running one of the province’s largest state-run companies.

I met a few local entrepreneurs and visited one factory making wine from buckthorn berries, using technology developed by Tsinghua University. It’s a healthier, lower-proof alternative to China’s lethal “baijiu”, the highly alcoholic spirit, mainly distilled from sorghum,  that is widely consumed across China.

Up to now, as far as I can tell,  there’s been no private equity investment in Qinghai. I’d like to change that. It’s a special part of China. Though it’s statistically one of the poorest provinces, Qinghai will continue every year to close the gap. More capital, more opportunity, more prosperity — and more inhabitants. This is Qinghai’s certain future.


China’s Mobile Phone Market Is Maxxing Out on Growth

Portrait of Kangxi Emperor from China First Capital blog post

During the first eight months of this year, 547 million mobile phones were sold in China, a 36% increase over the same period last year. At the current rate, more mobile phones will be sold in China this year than there are mobile users. In other words, on average, everyone of China’s 780 million mobile subscribers will buy a new mobile phone this year.

Can this possibly be true? Outside of China, mobile phone sales are basically flat, with most of the growth now coming from sales of smartphones like those made by Apple and HTC. Based on the current sales pattern, China will account for over 60% of all new mobile phone sales in 2010.

What is happening in China that could account for phenomenally high growth rate? I’m at a loss to explain it. Anecdotally, I can’t find much evidence of this remarkably high rate of new phone sales.

Most Chinese I know are using phones that are at least a year old. Nokia phones are particularly common in my circle. Overall, Nokia is still the biggest selling mobile phone brand in China. But, its sales in China are not doing very well, and the company is losing market share.

China’s Ministry of Industry and Information Technology compiles the statistics on Chinese mobile phone sales. They do a professional job gathering and transmitting data on China’s mobile market. So, I have no reason to doubt the basic accuracy of the numbers. The absolute number may possibly be off, but the 36% growth rate is probably correct.

If so, the larger question may not be one of accuracy, but of sustainability. In other words, if mobile phone sales are growing by 36% a year, is there any way that rate of year-on-year growth could continue into 2011 and beyond? I have severe doubts about this. For one thing, if the 36% annual growth rates continued through 2012, overall annual sales will double from the current high level. If so, every Chinese mobile subscriber on average would end up buying two new mobile phones a year. That, as the British like to say, “beggars belief”.

It may well be that the fantastically high growth rate we now see in China will begin to plateau very soon. If so, the overall market dynamic will change from one of rampant growth, in which even the weakest players register growth every year, to one where a company’s ability to generate sales growth will comes mainly from increasing market share.

In other words, from a manufacturer’s standpoint, the market changes from one of absolute growth to one of relative growth – or loss. It will happen soonest for products like mobile phones, where the market is reaching saturation.

There is still plenty of organic growth left for other fast-growing items like new cars, computers, white goods, and a full range of brand name products, from laundry detergent to Italian suits.

I bought a new phone recently,  an HTC Legend, running on Google’s Android operating system. But, it didn’t register on the Ministry’s figures.

Like a lot of people living in Shenzhen, I bought my new phone in Hong Kong, where prices are as much as 35% cheaper, and there’s far more certainty of getting a phone with all its original circuitry intact. It’s not all that uncommon for brand name phones in China to be doctored before sale. They look authentic on the outside, but have some cheaper, replacement parts within.

HTC is still a niche brand in China, though with very ambitious plans for growth over the next year. I bought the HTC in large part because the company is an investor and partner of one of my clients.  I like the phone, and like the fact it’s not an iPhone.

I have nothing against the Apple product. I just prefer, in phones and most other things, to choose brands that aren’t already dominant in their market.

Apple phones, either genuine or knockoff, are far more common in China than anywhere else in the world, as far as I can tell. Apple just announced plans finally to begin selling its new iPhone4 in China, months after it went on sale in the US, Europe and much of Asia. The price is still well above the level in Hong Kong, but I have no doubt the phone will sell well.

Apple computers are still very rare in China. There are very few places to buy one. This is a major untapped opportunity for the California company, since anything with the Apple brand is going to sell well in China. Apple has begun opening retail stores in China, but as of now, there are only two, one each in Beijing and Shanghai.

Apple is certainly one of the companies that should continue to thrive in China’s mobile market, even as it shifts from absolute to relative growth. HTC too. As for the others, both global and domestic brands, it’s going to be a dogfight.