Deindustrialization

Deindustrialization and recommodification have been setting Latin American economies back for decades. Can a push for greater productivity put them on track again?

In the 10 years from 2014 to 2023, Latin America’s aggregate economy managed to quietly reach depths unknown even during the dismal Lost Decade that followed the onset of the region’s debt crisis in 1982. The recent period logged average annual growth rates of 0.9%, compared to 2% a year four decades ago, notes Marco Llinás, head of Production, Productivity and Management Division at the Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC), a UN agency based in Santiago, Chile.

The Covid-19 pandemic made a dent, but two parallel trends contributed steadily throughout the period: deindustrialization and the recommodification of exports. Their origins predate 2014, and they can be observed across the region, with perhaps the exception of Mexico.

Future economic historians may wonder why nobody saw it coming, although contemporary analysts still disagree about the relative importance of the two elements. “The phenomenon of deindustrialization is not the same as recommodification,” says Llinás. “The two phenomena may or may not happen at the same time.”

Both continue to play out amid a confluence of factors: the decline and fall of globalization, China’s growing role in the region, and the Trump tariffs, to mention just a few. But how did it start?

Economists of all ideological stripes tend to agree on the steps that have traditionally facilitated the march from underdeveloped to developed. Nations begin with low value-added production and basic services. Then comes industrial development and the emergence of a working middle class. Ultimately, services prevail, often high-end ones fueled by technology. Think of South Korea. In the 1950s, it made headlines for battles in the Korean War over uninhabited strategic landmarks like Pork Chop Hill. Now, it is known as the home of Blackpink.

Until the debt crisis of the 1980s, Latin America seemed to be holding its own. Its aggregate growth rate was 5.2% per year (6.8% in powerhouse Brazil) from 1951 to 1980, ahead of the world (4.5%) and not much shy of Korea (7.5%) and Japan (7.9%), according to a 2004 paper by the Inter-American Development Bank. Using a narrow definition of manufactures, Brazil more than doubled the share of industrial exports in GDP from 10.8% in 1968 to 23% in 1973, fueled by industrial growth of 13.3% a year during that brief period known as the Brazilian Miracle.

From 1981 to 1993, saddled with the debt crisis and its aftershocks, the region stumbled behind with 1.7% annual growth while Korea continued to sprint ahead at 7.2%. As globalization began to help lift parts of the world out of poverty—albeit unequally—in the 1990s, Latin America mostly watched from the sidelines: either by choice, preferring relative isolation, or due to lack of competitiveness.

Premature Deindustrialization

“Premature deindustrialization” is the term economists use to describe a shift away from manufacturing before the economy in question has attained a robust level of industrial production. It happens at income levels lower than today’s richest nations have historically reached. The latter are sometimes called “post-industrial” societies, characterized by high-end, technologically enhanced service sectors.

Premature deindustrialization has also occurred in sub-Saharan Africa and parts of East Asia. But it’s especially striking in Latin America, given the very different trajectory its economies were on prior to the 1980s.

“Argentina’s manufacturing subsystem shows a clear shift toward low-tech employment, with an increasing dominance of low- and medium-low-tech industries, undermining the potential for higher-value-added manufacturing,” Martin Lábaj and Erika Majzlíková of the Bratislava University of Economics and Business write in a recent paper. Brazil “faces the most severe deindustrialization, characterized by a growing reliance on low-tech manufacturing and low-knowledge-intensive services, exacerbating its economic challenges.”

The contribution of manufacturing industries to Brazilian GDP fell from 36% in 1985 to just 11% in 2023, according to official statistics. “Why is it a problem?” Llinás asks. “Because industry has higher productivity and faster productivity growth. Plus, greater potential for expansion.”

Multiple factors cause premature deindustrialization, economists say: globalization; automation, stunting job growth; shrinking global demand for products.

They also point to a litany of “structural factors” that run from resource dependence to weak institutions; and policies that stunt investment such as high taxes, red tape, poor infrastructure, and cumbersome labor laws. “The country is very closed,” says Sérgio Goldman, a São Paulo-based corporate finance consultant, referring to his native Brazil.

Imports began to grow—from $60.4 billion in 1990 to $359.4 billion in 2000, according to World Bank statistics. A dominant traditional trade partner increased its exports of manufactured products to the region. Indeed, evidence of the political nature of Trump’s 50% tariff on Brazil included the fact that the US had a trade surplus with that country.

More recently, observers highlight closer trade ties with China and a subsequent influx of cheap manufactured goods, sometimes sending local producers reeling. “The auto parts sector in Colombia was really hurt by Chinese competition,” says William Maloney, chief economist for the Latin America and Caribbean region at the World Bank Group.

Given many countries’ history of protectionism, innovation is not top-ofmind among Latin American executives, according to Goldman. “My problem is with management,” he says. “Companies lack good managers.”

Whereas Japan parlayed its once abundant copper deposits into the establishment of leading global firms in the sector, Chile never seemed able to follow suit, Maloney notes: “In Chile, only a few firms are near the technological frontier.”

But is deindustrialization due primarily to “automation, trade, robots, or the China shock?” he asks. “It isn’t exactly clear.”

Recommodification

The second significant trend is “recommodification,” or the “reprimarization” of exports.

Thought to be emerging from commodity dependence during the last century, Latin America fell back on churning out greater volumes of raw materials during the commodity boom of the 2000s.

Driven by demand from China, but also India and other fast-growing economies, a 2000-2014 super cycle was followed by a second surge at the beginning of this decade. Each wave tends to leave export volumes at higher baselines; Brazilian soybean exports keep setting records, for example.

Commodities as a percentage of total exports in 2000 vs. 2020 jumped from 41.1% to 55.6% in Brazil, 63.1% to 83.2% in Chile, 55.6% to 65.1% in Colombia, and 73.2% to 85.3% in Peru, according to data provider Trading Economics.

Comparing 2024 to 2023, “agricultural products (11%) and mining and oil (11%) were the main contributors to growth in goods exports, while manufacturing exports remained stagnant,” ECLAC reports.

“Productivity Is Everything”

Pundits and policymakers are notoriously disputatious when it comes to Latin America; the region has dabbled for decades in everything from import substitution to the free market liberalism of the Milton Friedman-inspired Chicago Boys. Nowadays, however, they seem to be reaching a near consensus.

The post-2014 downturn “is in large part due to stagnant and even declining productivity,” posits Llinás. He adds, paraphrasing Nobel Prize-winning American economist Paul Krugman, “productivity isn’t everything, but in the long run it is everything.”

Four of the region’s leading economies—Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Mexico—are implementing what Llinás calls “productive policies,” which he is careful to distinguish from old-school industrialization strategies. A common characteristic: the selection of a handful of priority sectors, industrial or not. These may include agriculture, mining, or services such as sustainable tourism.

The Brazilan program, for example, earmarked R$300 billion for credit, public purchases, regulatory reform, and infrastructure investments designed to benefit six sectors during the initial 2024-2026 period.

Investment in commodities also has its champions, especially given the potential for innovative spin-offs. Efforts to improve business practices in sectors such as mining and agribusiness can spur investments related to industrial processes and highend services, for example, say Llinás and Kieran Gartlan, a São Paulo-based managing partner of The Yield Lab Latam, a venture capital fund focused on agrifood and climate technology. Gartlan refers to large-scale farms such as Brazilian soybean producers as “open air factories” and points to start-up suppliers that are developing new technologies in fintech, drones, biotechnology, and beyond. His firm has mapped some 3,000 high tech start-ups in the Latin American agricultural sector.

But credit availability is proving a roadblock.

Private banks “don’t really have an appetitive” for farming, Gartlan notes; lacking the expertise to properly evaluate risk, “they put up big spreads that make [credit] expensive for farmers.” Many relatively large producers fail to invest in silos to store crops for sale when prices go up, for example. Instead, they live from harvest to harvest, paying off last season’s bills as the crop comes in.

The will to transform Latin America’s economy—much of it—in a more productive direction is there; the next step is for investors and lenders to buy in.