“The Biden administration thinks it
can slow China’s economic growth by cutting it off from advanced computer
chips. Could the plan backfire?
Last October, the United States Bureau of Industry and
Security issued a document that — underneath its 139 pages of dense bureaucratic
jargon and minute technical detail — amounted to a declaration of economic war
on China.
The magnitude of the act was made
all the more remarkable by the relative obscurity of its source. One of 13
bureaus within the Department of Commerce, the smallest federal department by
funding, B.I.S. is tiny: Its budget for 2022 was just over $140 million, about
one-eighth the cost of a single Patriot air-defense missile battery. The bureau
employs approximately 350 agents and officers, who collectively monitor
trillions of dollars’ worth of transactions taking place all around the world.
During the height of the Cold War,
when export controls to the Soviet bloc were at their strictest, B.I.S. was a
critical hub in the Western defenses, processing up to 100,000 export licenses
annually. During the relative peace and stability of the 1990s, the bureau lost
some of its raison d’être — as well as staff and funding — and licenses
shriveled to roughly 10,000 per year. Today, the number is 40,000 and climbing.
With a sprawling trade blacklist known as the entity list (currently 662 pages
and counting), numerous pre-existing multilateral export-control agreements and
ongoing actions against Russia and China, B.I.S. is busier than ever. “We spend
100 percent of our time on Russia sanctions, another 100 percent on China and
the other 100 percent on everything else,” says Matt Borman, the deputy
assistant secretary of commerce for export administration.
In recent years, semiconductor chips have become central to
the bureau’s work. Chips are the lifeblood of the modern economy, and the
brains of every electronic device and system, from iPhones to toasters, data
centers to credit cards. A new car might have more than a thousand chips, each
one managing a different facet of the vehicle’s operation. Semiconductors are
also the driving force behind the innovations poised to revolutionize life over
the next century, like quantum computing and artificial
intelligence. OpenAI’s ChatGPT, for example, was reportedly trained on 10,000 of the most
advanced chips currently available.
With the Oct. 7 export controls, the United States
government announced its intent to cripple China’s ability to produce, or even
purchase, the highest-end chips. The logic of the measure was
straightforward: Advanced chips, and the supercomputers and A.I. systems they
power, enable the production of new weapons and surveillance apparatuses. In
their reach and meaning, however, the measures could hardly have been more
sweeping, taking aim at a target far broader than the Chinese security state.
“The key here is to understand that the U.S. wanted to impact China’s A.I.
industry,” says Gregory C. Allen, director of the Wadhwani Center for A.I. and
Advanced Technologies at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in
Washington. “The semiconductor stuff is the means to that end.”
Though delivered in the unassuming form of updated export
rules, the Oct. 7 controls essentially seek to eradicate, root and branch,
China’s entire ecosystem of advanced technology. “The new policy embodied in
Oct. 7 is: Not only are we not going to allow China to progress any further
technologically, we are going to actively reverse their current state of the
art,” Allen says. C.J. Muse, a senior semiconductor analyst at Evercore ISI,
put it this way: “If you’d told me about these rules five years ago, I would’ve
told you that’s an act of war — we’d have to be at war.”
If the controls are successful, they could handicap China
for a generation; if they fail, they may backfire spectacularly, hastening the
very future the United States is trying desperately to avoid. The outcome will
likely shape U.S.-China competition, and the future of the global order, for
decades to come. “There are two dates that will echo in history from 2022,”
Allen says. “The first is Feb. 24, when events in Ukraine started; and the
second is Oct. 7.”
Despite the immense intricacy of
their design, semiconductors are, in a sense, quite simple: tiny pieces of
silicon carved with arrays of circuits. The circuits flip on and off based on
the activity of switches called transistors. When a circuit is on, it produces
a one; off, a zero. The first chips, invented in the late 1950s, held only a
handful of transistors. Today the primary semiconductor in a new smartphone has
between 10 and 20 billion transistors, each about the size of a virus, carved
like a layer cake into the structure of the silicon.
The rate of progress over the last
six decades has been famously described by Moore’s Law, which observed that the
number of transistors that can be fit on a chip has roughly doubled every two
years. Chris Miller, author of the book “Chip War” and an associate professor of
international history at the Fletcher School at Tufts University, likes to note
that if airplanes had improved at the same rate as chips, they’d now be flying
at several times the speed of light. No technology in the history of human
civilization has ever matched the breathtaking ascent of computing power.
Semiconductor-manufacturing plants, known as fabs, are the
most expensive factories in the world, conducting the most complex
manufacturing ever accomplished, at a scale of production never before achieved
with any other device. The wider chip industry, meanwhile, is a web of mutual
interdependence, spread all over the planet in highly specialized regions and
companies, its feats made possible by supply chains of exceptional length and
complexity — a poster child, in other words, for globalization. “It’s hard to
imagine how the capabilities they’ve reached would be possible without access
to the smartest minds in the world all working together,” Miller says. And yet
it is this same interconnectedness that makes the industry vulnerable to
regulations like those the Biden administration is pursuing.
Only a small handful of companies can compete at the cutting
edge, where breakthroughs cost billions of dollars and decades of research. The
result is an industry structured as a series of choke points. The best-known
example is the extreme ultraviolet (EUV) lithography machine made by ASML, a
Dutch manufacturing conglomerate, which is used to print out the layers of a
chip. In 1997, ASML hired Jos Benschop, a young engineer with a Ph.D. in
physics, to spearhead the creation of a new system, one that would help ASML’s
customers in the semiconductor industry print smaller, faster and denser chips
than ever before. It took four years to achieve the proof of concept necessary
to even justify assigning a small team to the task, and then another five years
for the team to build a prototype machine. In December 2010, at a research
facility in South Korea, an updated prototype, a TWINSCAN NXE:3100, finally had
its first successful test run. It would be nearly another decade before the
first EUV-enabled products would go to market.
‘I
truly believe our machine is the most complex thing mankind has ever produced.’
The newest version of the machine can craft structures as
small as 10 nanometers; a human red blood cell, by comparison, is about 7,000
nanometers across. It uses a laser to create plasma 40 times hotter than the
surface of the sun, which emits extreme ultraviolet light — invisible to the
human eye — that is refracted onto a silicon chip by a series of mirrors. The
laser is sourced from a German company and has 457,329 pieces; an entire EUV
has more than 100,000 components of similar intricacy.
An EUV is just one part of the
process: A cutting-edge fab can include more than 500 machines and 1,000 steps.
And yet an EUV alone is a nearly miraculous human achievement, capable of
working at scales and precisions that are difficult to fathom. “I truly believe
our machine is the most complex thing mankind has ever produced,” says
Benschop, now ASML’s corporate vice president of technology. Today, more than a
decade since the TWINSCAN’s first test run, no other company has been able to
recreate ASML’s achievement.
By squeezing on the industry’s natural choke points, the
Biden administration aims to block China from the future of chip technology.
The effects will go far beyond cutting into Chinese military advancements,
threatening the country’s economic growth and scientific leadership too. “We
said there are key tech areas that China should not advance in,” says Emily
Kilcrease, a senior fellow at the Center for a New American Security and a
former U.S. trade official. “And those happen to be the areas that will power
future economic growth and development.” Today, scientific advances are often
made by running simulations and analyzing huge amounts of data, rather than
through trial-and-error experiments. Simulations are used to discover new
lifesaving drugs, to model the future of climate change and to explore the
behavior of colliding galaxies — as well as the physics of hypersonic missiles
and nuclear explosions.
“The person with the best supercomputer can do the best
science,” Jack Dongarra, founding director of the Innovative Computing
Laboratory at the University of Tennessee, told me. Dongarra runs a program
called the TOP500, which offers a biannual ranking of the
fastest supercomputers in the world. As of June, China claims 134 spots,
compared with 150 for the U.S. But the picture is incomplete: Around 2020,
China’s submissions plummeted in a way that suggested to Dongarra a desire to
avoid attracting unwanted attention. Rumors of new supercomputers leak out in
scientific papers and research announcements, leaving observers to guess at the
true state of the competition — and the size of China’s presumed lead. “It’s
striking because in 2001 China had no computers on the list,” Dongarra says.
“Now they’ve grown to the point that they dominate it.”
Yet beneath China’s strength is a
crucial vulnerability: Nearly all the chips that power the country’s most
advanced projects and institutions are inexorably tied to U.S. technology. “The
entire industry can only function with U.S. inputs,” Miller says. “In every
facility that’s remotely close to the cutting edge, there’s U.S. tools, U.S.
design software and U.S. intellectual property throughout the process.” Despite
decades of effort by the Chinese government, and tens of billions of dollars
spent on “indigenous innovation,” the problem remains acute. In 2020, China’s
domestic chip producers supplied just 15.9 percent of the country’s overall
demand. As recently as April, China spent more money importing semiconductors
than it did oil.
America fully grasped its power over the global semiconductor market in 2019,
when the Trump administration added Huawei,
a major Chinese telecommunications maker, to the entity list. Though the
listing was ostensibly punishment for a criminal violation — Huawei had been
caught selling sanctioned materials to Iran — the strategic benefits became
immediately obvious. Without access to U.S. semiconductors, software and other
essential supplies, Huawei, the largest telecommunications-equipment producer
in the world, was left struggling to survive. “The Huawei sanctions immediately
pulled back the curtain,” says Matt Sheehan, a fellow at the Carnegie Endowment
for International Peace who studies China’s tech ecosystem. “Chinese tech
giants are running on chips that are made in America or have deep American
components.”
Export-control law had long been seen as a dusty, arcane
backwater, far removed from the actual exercise of American power. But after
Huawei, the United States discovered that its primacy in the semiconductor
supply chain was a rich source of untapped leverage. Three firms, all located
in the U.S., dominate the market for chip-design software, which is used to
arrange the billions of transistors that fit on a new chip. The market for
advanced chip-manufacturing tools is similarly concentrated, with a handful of
companies able to claim effective monopolies over essential machines or
processes — and nearly all of these companies are American or dependent on
American components. At every step, the supply chain runs through the U.S.,
U.S. treaty allies or Taiwan, all of them operating in a U.S.-dominated
ecosystem.
“We stumbled into it,” Sheehan says.
“We started using these weapons before we really knew how to use them.”
In May 2020, the Trump administration tightened the screws
further, this time by making Huawei subject to a formerly obscure provision of
export-control law called the foreign direct product rule. Under the F.D.P.R.,
foreign-made items are subject to American controls if they were produced using
American technology or software. It is a sweeping assertion of extraterritorial
power: Even if an item is made and shipped outside the United States, never
once crossing the country’s borders, and contains no U.S.-origin components or
technology in the final product, it can still be considered an American good.
For Huawei, the application of the
F.D.P.R. meant the company was virtually cut off from semiconductors. “That
rule subjected all semiconductors on the planet to American law, because every
foundry on the planet uses U.S. tools at least in part,” Kevin Wolf, a former
assistant secretary of commerce for export administration at the B.I.S., says.
“If you have one U.S. tool and 100 non-American tools in your fab, that taints
any wafer moving across the line.”
In 2020, according to the
market-analysis firm Canalys, Huawei was the
largest smartphone seller in the world, with an 18 percent market
share, besting even Apple and Samsung. Huawei’s revenues plunged by nearly a
third in 2021, and the company sold off one of its smartphone brands in a bid
to stay afloat. By 2022, its share had fallen to 2 percent.
The Oct. 7 rules represented the sum
of everything U.S. policymakers had learned about semiconductors, supply chains
and American power. The measures were announced as an “interim final rule,”
meaning they took effect immediately — a direct reaction to a perceived
weakness in the Huawei controls. “There was a lot of notice before the Huawei
rule came into effect, and they spent the time beforehand stockpiling,” says
Peter Harrell, a former senior director for international economics at the
National Security Council who was involved in crafting the Oct. 7 rules. “That
was a tactical lesson — that you need the element of surprise.” More important,
the United States had learned that hobbling one company, however large, simply
created room for new competitors to step in. A more comprehensive approach
would be needed. “The Trump administration went after companies,” says Allen,
the CSIS expert. “The Biden administration is going after industries.”
The rules went deeper into the semiconductor supply chain
than any previous measure. China was cut off not just from importing the most
advanced chips, but also from acquiring the inputs to develop its own advanced
semiconductors and supercomputers, and even from the U.S.-origin components,
technology and software that could be used to produce
semiconductor-manufacturing equipment to eventually build their own fabs to
make their own chips. “It was an ‘all of the above’ strategy,” Wolf, the former
B.I.S. official, says. Some elements were entirely novel, like a restriction on
the activity of any “U.S. persons” — companies and citizens, as well as
green-card holders and permanent residents. After Oct. 7, U.S. persons are no
longer allowed to engage in any activity that supports the production of
advanced semiconductors in China, whether by maintaining or repairing equipment
in a Chinese fab, offering advice or even authorizing deliveries to a Chinese
semiconductor manufacturer.
The decision to act unilaterally was
a diplomatic gamble. Though the United States controls a number of key choke
points in the global supply chain, other countries — particularly Taiwan, Japan
and the Netherlands — hold dominance over similarly crucial sectors of the
manufacturing process. Had those countries continued to sell to China as
before, it would have rendered the Oct. 7 controls nearly useless. But in late
January, the Biden administration reached an agreement with Japan and the
Netherlands, under which they would implement similar controls on semiconductors
or semiconductor-manufacturing equipment.
Taiwan had already signed on months
earlier, as soon as the controls were announced. The island is a
chip-manufacturing juggernaut: It produces almost two-thirds of the world’s
semiconductors annually, and over 90 percent of the most advanced ones. Much of
that output is thanks to a single firm, TSMC, the most
valuable public company in all of Asia and the most advanced semiconductor
manufacturer in the world. By itself, TSMC accounts for about a third of the
total global market for contract chip fabrication. (OPEC, by comparison,
controls about 40 percent of the global oil market.)
‘At
some point, you’re replicating all of human civilization.’
Taiwan’s central role in global chip
production makes it indispensable to the United States. If the island’s fabs
were to be captured by China, or knocked offline during an invasion, the costs
to the global economy would be catastrophic. Taiwan’s chips stranglehold is
sometimes called its “silicon shield” — the island’s most formidable deterrent
against a Chinese attack, and its best assurance of American help in the event
of a Chinese invasion.
But the partnership between the U.S.
and Taiwan is an unequal one. Though Taiwan is unmatched in chip manufacturing,
it captures less than 10 percent of the global market by revenue. The bulk of
sales — 40 percent in 2022 — go to the American firms that export their chip
manufacturing to Taiwan, in much the same way that American clothes designers
profit from the sale of items that are actually sewn overseas. Strategically,
American policymakers see the U.S.’s dependence on Taiwan as an unacceptable
risk. They have pushed for TSMC to build more fabs in the U.S., as part of a
broader strategy to locate more semiconductor manufacturing closer to American
shores.
Taiwan has no choice but to comply,
for fear of upsetting its most powerful ally and largest arms supplier; but
with every move to erode the island’s pre-eminence, it makes itself more
vulnerable. In the worst case, Taiwan’s chip chokehold may only invite more destruction:
Some American commentators and war-gamers have suggested that, if China does
invade, the U.S. should destroy TSMC’s fabs to stop them from falling under
China’s control.
One problem with trying to
control the global flow of semiconductors is that they’re very small,
lightweight and valuable. “Smugglers love stuff like that,” Allen says. But
China needs chips in large quantities to power massive data centers and
facilities housing cutting-edge computers — and that makes their procurement
uniquely challenging. “Those are large buildings, and they don’t move,” Miller
says. “It’s uniquely suited to be understood by U.S. intelligence.” The
structure of the market will also present a hurdle to anyone trying to
circumvent the regulations: The number of companies capable of producing
cutting-edge chips is extremely limited, and the number of buyers with a
history of purchasing from them is also small.
But there are also loopholes in the
enforcement system, which Chinese companies are already probing. In March,
Inspur Group, a Chinese conglomerate active in cloud computing and server
manufacturing, was added to the entity list. But according to The Wall Street
Journal, at least one of the company’s affiliates was not included
in the listing, allowing American businesses to sell to the subsidiary
unimpeded.
Chips are moving through China by
more circuitous routes as well. Last month, Reuters reported on a booming underground trade in
high-end chips in Shenzhen, with multiple retailers touting their ability
to supply the A100, a powerful chip made by the American company Nvidia. The
U.S. government’s ability to detect and prevent these types of hand-to-hand
sales is limited: B.I.S. has only three enforcement agents stationed in China.
But the existence of the underground market was, in fact, an early signal of
the controls’ efficacy. According to retailers interviewed by Reuters, the
chips were available only in small batches, perhaps from stocks shipped to
China before the ban took effect. “It highlights that the controls are
working,” an industry executive, who requested anonymity in order to candidly
assess American policy, told me. “They wouldn’t be doing that if chips flowed
freely.”
The battle over the controls may
serve as a kind of civilizational test. In the West, the onus of compliance
will fall largely on private companies. “Industry is our primary line of
defense,” says Thea Rozman Kendler, the assistant secretary of export
administration at B.I.S. “We can do whatever we can in government to promulgate
clear and concise and effective rules, but it’s industry that’s responsible for
compliance and putting those rules into effect.”
For the controls to succeed, American industry will need to
engage in actions that are, at least in the short-term, self-sabotaging,
shutting off a piece of the lucrative Chinese market. Companies will have ample
reason to operate as close to the edge of legality as possible, and their
Chinese counterparts will have every incentive to game the system and feed them
the information needed to approve a sale.
For China, the race for
technological self-sufficiency presents perhaps a greater challenge than any
the country has faced. The very traits that make China’s success possible —
iron political will, endless money and a whole-of-society mobilization around
key goals — are just as likely to prove its Achilles’ heel. In the last several
years, as the push to develop a domestic semiconductor industry has taken on
new urgency, at least six multibillion-dollar chip projects have failed and a
number of executives have been put under investigation for corruption. Tens of
thousands of companies, meanwhile, have flooded into the semiconductor
industry, some of them with little or no expertise in chips, solely in search
of easy government money.
“It’s easy for political leaders or
executives to think if we throw enough money and engineers at this problem,
we’ll solve it,” Jason Matheny, former deputy director of the White House
Office of Science and Technology Policy, says. But the immense complexity of
the science and the globe-spanning supply chains are difficult to imitate. “At
some point,” says Matheny, “you’re replicating all of human civilization.”
Yet if any country can overcome such a challenge, it is
likely to be China. The Oct. 7 export controls, while crippling China’s
advanced chip-making ability for the foreseeable future, may end up spurring
long-term growth. When Chinese companies had access to superior Western chips
and suppliers, domestic manufacturers struggled to find business. Now Chinese
companies must innovate together or die. “We’ve removed choice,” Kilcrease
says. “Before they could choose between national resiliency and commercial
motivations, and now they don’t have that choice.” Should a large share of
China’s $400 billion in annual chip imports be turned inward, domestic chip
companies may finally have the means and motivation to catch up.
Huawei may prove instructive once again. Battered by
American sanctions and China’s strict pandemic controls, the company’s 2022
profits fell by a staggering 70 percent compared with the previous year. But
there are signs of life: Despite the plunge in profits, revenues rose slightly,
and the company’s operating system, HarmonyOS — which it developed after being
cut off from using Android — has been installed on more than 330 million
devices, mostly in China. Huawei remains one of the world’s biggest spenders on
research and development, with a budget of about $24 billion last year and a
research team of over 100,000 employees.
The emphasis on innovation is by necessity. Bereft of
American chips and technology, Huawei has been forced to redesign and
remanufacture all of its legacy products to ensure they contain no American
components. The company is dragging along an entire domestic supply chain in
its wake, sending its own engineers to help train and upscale Chinese suppliers
it once shunned in favor of foreign alternatives. Recently, Huawei claimed that
it had made significant breakthroughs in the electronic design software used to
produce advanced semiconductors at a size that, though still a few generations
behind the U.S., would put it further along than any other Chinese company. If
Huawei manages to succeed, it could emerge from American sanctions stronger and
more resilient than ever.
The controls will not stop
China permanently. Even in the best case, they’re a delay tactic, meant to
offer the U.S. and its allies space to expand their lead in key technologies.
The question is how much time B.I.S. can buy for the West.
“This isn’t the type of business
where success is batting one thousand,” said Matt Axelrod, the assistant
secretary for export enforcement. “Our goal is to stop as much as possible.”
I was meeting with Axelrod and
Rozman Kendler, the export administration chief, at the Commerce Department
building, in an office overlooking the Ellipse in downtown Washington, D.C. It
had taken just a few minutes to walk nearly the entire length of B.I.S.’s
headquarters. Even allowing that enforcement need not be perfect, I wondered
whether this was a fair fight — the Bureau of Industry and Security versus the
full weight of the Chinese government. How could B.I.S. win? How could it hope
to move as quickly? How could B.I.S. possibly put as much money behind the
effort, and care as much about chips as China does?
The future of chips was life or death for China.
There were a few seconds of silence
before Rozman Kendler answered, in a quiet voice. “It’s probably life or death
for us too,” she said.”
Judging by the ambition mindset of these politicians, it is
not about reducing risk. We are talking about the complete separation of the
world's two largest economies. The slogan of de-risking is a smokescreen
supposedly hiding the beginning of an economic war.
Usually, those market players who completely distance
themselves from their competitors lose in the competition. This time we, the
West, are distancing ourselves. We will soon see how we fare in the competition
after that.
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