Shoppers are filling their carts with last-minute gifts, both literally and digitally. One appealing purchase, whether for a gift or to look stylish at a holiday sweater party, is Shein’s ultra-cheap clothing. Like many people around the world, the French look for deals in December.
In a recent interview with journalist Thomas Mahler, we learned that fast fashion has become a political flashpoint in France, a country known for its haute couture. French law is considering measures aimed at threatening the economic viability of Chinese company Shein, which has a global monopoly on ultra-cheap clothing.
Millions of French consumers regularly shop through Shein. Mahler asked me: “In a country with a proud tradition of domestic fashion, can politicians persuade consumers to buy domestically made clothes instead?” My answer was that this dilemma extends beyond France. Wealthy countries produce less clothing at home. It is cheaper to produce on a large scale in low-income countries, and residents of rich countries rarely want to work in garment factories.
The French government’s proposed intervention is an “eco-penalty” on fast-fashion products, which could ultimately result in an additional tax of 10 euros per item of clothing. The aim is to increase the competitiveness of French-made clothing, while at the same time curbing the environmental excesses of disposable fashion.
Fast fashion creates waste. Trend cycles for cheap apparel only last a few weeks, not seasons. Although Shein adds many new items every day, the traditional French fashion house only releases a few designs each year. Many clothes are so cheaply made that they are worn only a few times and then thrown away. Even charities are struggling to accept donated clothing because of the influx of unwanted clothing. At best, discarded polyester shirts pile up in landfills, and at worst, they pollute rivers and beaches. Synthetic fibers emit microplastics. These are real externalities.
The French approach thus combines modern environmentalism with well-known protectionism. It may be politically easy to impose tariffs not only to protect domestic producers but also to curb “wasteful” consumption.
Revealed preferences are the preferences that people demonstrate through their actual purchasing behavior, rather than their stated ideals, and indicate that consumers are looking for affordability and variety. This puts them at odds with protectionist policy makers. When a Shein dress costs 15 euros and a French equivalent costs 100 euros, even the most patriotic consumer faces a tough trade-off. Price differences reflect not only labor costs, but also supply chain efficiencies, economies of scale, and fundamentally different business models.
Even if these measures succeed in reducing the amount of clothing purchased from Cien, will French citizens take away clothing manufacturing jobs that are “brought back” to France? France’s youth unemployment rate is over 17%, but garment jobs do not match the aspirations of the educated workforce. The few remaining apparel factories in the United States primarily employ recent immigrants. Is trying to rebuild the industrial base of the mid-20th century like trying to revive the typewriter? Nostalgia is not an economic strategy in a technologically advanced world. Moreover, will robots soon “take over” most of the jobs that the French can do today in clothing manufacturing?
Mahler also asked me if people could simply buy less clothes to protect the environment. This is an interesting question. Because even in today’s rich world, this dilemma can be seen in food. Calories used to be expensive. Now, the binding constraint is waistline, not income. Clothes follow the same pattern. After the Multi-Fiber Agreement ended in 2005, global textile trade boomed. For example, one city in China now produces more than 20 billion pairs of socks a year, allowing them to be exported at low prices. For many consumers, clothing price is not the main constraint on how many clothing items to purchase. As a result, style and richness have been democratized.
Reasonable people can debate appropriate policy responses. Similar to carbon taxes, it is also worth considering a Pigouvian tax on new clothing to raise money for recycling and reduce waste. Improved labeling, such as durability ratings, could help consumers make more informed decisions about how long their clothes will last, allowing them to make better trade-offs between price and quality. Cultural norms are changing, with some consumers now showing off their thrift store finds rather than buying new, and the flow of new clothing going to landfills has slightly decreased.
While addressing cheap fashion excesses, we should resist glorifying the past. We should not return to a world where only the wealthy enjoy diversity and comfort. Countries such as Bangladesh and Vietnam have reduced poverty by participating in global clothing supply chains. Bangladesh’s GDP per capita was less than $500 in 1998. Today it’s over $2,500.
Fast fashion is neither a triumph nor a disaster. It’s the result of solving an important problem: how to affordably clothe billions of people. The French, like many people around the world, are now faced with more entertaining questions. The question is, how much is enough after the basic scarcity is overcome?
Anyone who wore a patchwork coat in 1850 would be surprised to learn that people were debating whether they were buying too many clothes. The fact that we can afford to ask is proof that the system, despite its problems, has delivered something extraordinary.
