State Capitalism #2: Light Industry's Moment
This was the era when the entire world was pouring everything into heavy chemical industry development—the Great Electric Age. But I saw it differently. To me, this very Great Electric Age was the perfect time for the Korean Empire's light industry to take off.
With light industries worldwide getting crushed by heavy industry and shutting down left and right, unable to compete—this was exactly the moment when the Korean Empire, and its light industry in particular, could develop without rivals. And in that sense, the Korean Empire was perfectly primed for a light industry boom.
"We're going straight for canning. Hurry up and replicate the existing canning factories."
"Not textiles, furniture, or paper?"
"Germany's dominating dye production right now as the tech powerhouse, so no. We'll snag it when they collapse."
Above all, Korea had incredibly favorable conditions for canning. For starters, the Korean Empire overflowed with raw materials. In a nation that prioritized eating over everything else, there was plenty to can.
By igniting the flames of industrialization across the world, the Korean Empire had every nation screaming for iron, so our heavy industry was skyrocketing day by day. Conversely, the warring nations now needed even more of our Korean iron. So even if we swapped some of that iron for canned goods, they'd gratefully take it. With scrap metal prices soaring, it was only natural.
"Oh, and the new canning factories? Concession them or sell them off to foreigners."
"Yes!?"
"What, you think the country will collapse just because we concession a few canning factories?"
I wanted foreign buyers to snap up Korean canned goods—and the raw materials inside them—and haul them back home. To make that happen, handing factories over to overseas entrepreneurs was a hundred times faster than clinging to them ourselves. They'd grit their teeth and import them as their own assets, right?
"If they can our stuff and import it to their own countries, we're guaranteed to profit."
"True enough."
"Just make sure they know that even if it's an international corporation, any profits earned in Korea mean taxes paid in Korea. And they have to follow Korean domestic law."
Right now, Korea was one of the few countries with cheap raw materials, cheap iron, and reliable buyers. Attracting foreign capital? It was like breathing. With everyone clueless about how many years this war would drag on, I planned to hoover up every bit of foreign investment before Germany's defeat loomed even darker. But only the kind that benefited the Korean Empire.
That way, when the Great Depression hit and they dumped everything because their own houses were burning, we could use corporate retained earnings to buy it all back—and the fallout would be minimal.
The Korean Empire was the kind of country that could pull off a one-time asset grab using corporate retained earnings to scoop up everything foreigners dumped on the market. If we could swap corporate bonds for government bonds in this freakish nation, why not? The country wouldn't collapse. That's why building trust in peacetime matters.
"Lay new circulatory rail lines, and concession new railroads."
"No way!"
"Yes way! You still see us as a colony?"
The classic delusion of people who've never become advanced or great powers: concessioning railroads means the country falls. Half right, half wrong. If you're a colony, yeah, it destroys you—because your interior gets flooded with advanced factories and "fair" competition.
But if you're the advanced power? Concessioning railroads lets you sell those advanced factory goods overseas at even fairer prices. Up to now, our rail network had been arteries and veins circling major cities. Now we needed circulatory lines to collect light industry goods from every corner of the provinces.
Heavy industry on the coasts made it pointless, but for exporting light industry scattered inland, private railroads were essential. And to build them, we needed foreign capital. Obviously.
Why else had I tolerated Korean Empire bonds selling to France?
That would have London buying up Korean bonds even from Paris to invest in our rails. The Korean Empire waited for Britain to snap up enough French bonds, then picked up the receiver again.
Who do they take me for? I hung up and picked up the receiver again.
Who knows. Not buying that green hell. And French Indochina? It had already slipped from France's grasp—they couldn't even manage it. That's why I chose Taiwan, Philippines, Indonesia as Korean Empire spheres—not Indochina.
Indochina? That's a straight-up Viet Cong factory.
I'm a clear-cut communist right now, but not like Viet Cong-style communist nationalists. If anything, I'm anti-nationalist, anti-militarism, anti-imperialist, and anti-communist. Though no one believes it. Hell, I only did what I needed to—why do they think I love this stuff? Later I'll push hereditary succession over three generations, propping up kids I don't even have.
Surprisingly true. Selling that was like selling their foundation—time, history, labor, assets poured into a ledger of pure capital bribes. They'd burn it before giving it away.
"But that's not something you sell for mere bonds, right? A seed institute is a matter of prestige."
"We're not buying a monopoly—just sharing your accumulated assets?"
"That's how valuable it is."
Fair enough. Felt like a steal. No way they'd sell for chump change like bonds. Should I go for the Berlin vacuum? Not impossible, but it might shorten the world war.
Vietnamese resentment toward Korea for meddling in Indochina? We're not occupying Vietnam—what's the big deal? That's why France hired us as the hatchet men. Bad cop? No problem—stakes were high.
And we're not even playing occupiers, so what's the issue? Korea, roughly sorting Indochina between Chiang Kai-shek's Shanghai faction in the south and Japan in the north, got the seeds from France. It was split north-south like that anyway—they'd manage.
Korea didn't care if Indochina sparked a future civil war. Those seeds mattered more now. They were the intangible assets imperial powers stole from colonies—ones colonies lacked.
Without them, colonies stayed poor, paying imperial powers to grow crops. Now Korea reclaimed that profit line. Meaning we could finally grow not just rice, but cash crops properly.
It laid the foundation to evolve cooperatives sharing losses into joint-stock companies enjoying profits—long-term corporate farms.
To grow cash crops, you need at least two of three minimums. I knew from trying sugar beet farms in Manchuria: without them, I'd have been born in the wrong era—100 years too early or too late.
Early: everyone lacked them, so comparative advantage. Late: just a hobby. This era made commercial cropping fundamentally impossible without them. You could grow, but not profitably—buyers would preemptively skim profits.
Britain obsessed over guano worldwide not because they're idiots; France collected seeds in malaria-ridden Africa not from stupidity. Simple: ladder-kicking against latecomer potential colonies.
Cash crops? They monopolized them. Germany invented chemical fertilizers and dyes because they lacked them—had to. Only a massive domestic market like America, ignoring patents, could thrive. Most nations crumbled, paying "royalties" to masters.
Persian tobacco? Renamed "British-discovered British tobacco"—pay up. Afghan opium? Now Bengal opium. Persia selling tobacco monopoly was peak failure—abandoning sovereignty for scraps.
With imperial powers gripping cash crop markets, uncivilized leaders felt little loss selling monopolies. Like taxes—what's the difference? Legit Persian tobacco, but ladder-kicking locked markets, so no exports without selling out.
Is it even "export"? Anyway. Not their money, no extra profits—selling monopoly cashes in quick. That's why I concession canning factories to foreigners. If Korea does it, what about those uncivilized states?
Seeds, patents, routes, ships—an iron fortress. But now that fortress cracked open. That was enough. Like a dam crumbling from a tiny hole, the Korean Empire was just the spark.