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China’s Ghost Cities Are a Problem for Europe’s Luxury Brands, Too

How closely is demand for $3,000 handbags tied to home prices in China? Quite closely, it turns out, which is unfortunate for luxury brands.

Europe’s luxury stocks fell in early trading Tuesday after China’s economic planning agency failed to announce additional measures to kickstart growth that some investors had hoped for. The sector is still up 10% on average since Beijing launched its initial stimulus plans late last month.

Beijing hopes a cut to mortgage rates, and lower down-payment requirements for buyers of second homes, will jump-start the country’s troubled housing market. A package of loans to brokers and insurers to buy Chinese shares has had initial success at lifting the stock market.

Luxury spending in China has traditionally been more correlated with its home prices than with the financial markets or overall economic growth. Around 60% of net household wealth was tied up in property before prices peaked in 2021. Barclays estimates that falling home prices have destroyed about $18 trillion in household wealth since then, which is equivalent to roughly $60,000 per family.

This, along with worries about the wider economy, is hurting consumer confidence. Retail sales rose just 2.1% in August compared with the same month last year, according to data from China’s National Bureau of Statistics. When global luxury brands start to report their third-quarter results next week, Chinese demand is expected to have slowed since they last updated investors.

Flagging sales come at an unhelpful time for Europe’s luxury companies, which rely on Chinese consumers for a third of global luxury spending. After several bumpy years during the pandemic, luxury brands and their investors hoped that a comeback in Chinese spending would compensate for a slowdown among Europeans and Americans.

This looks increasingly unlikely. Luxury sales to Chinese shoppers are expected to shrink 7% in 2024 and by 3% next year, according to UBS estimates. As luxury brands have high fixed costs, including the most expensive retail rents in the world, a slowdown with such key customers could have an outsize impact on profit margins.

The last time the luxury industry went through such a rocky patch in China, barring the pandemic, was between 2014 and 2016 when Beijing was cracking down on corruption, including officials who were gifting Louis Vuitton handbags and Rolex watches in exchange for political favours. The global luxury industry barely grew for two years during China’s anticorruption drive, which also coincided with a property-market correction in the country. It didn’t help that shoppers in other markets were also tiring of logos back then.

Europe’s luxury stocks look expensive today compared with that time. As a multiple of expected earnings, listed brands’ shares now trade at a roughly 40% premium to their 2014 to 2016 average.

To justify the higher price tag, Beijing’s housing and wider economic stimulus would need to indirectly lift luxury demand. Measures rolled out so far may not be enough to slow the slide in home prices. China’s housing market is oversupplied by around 60 million units, according to Bloomberg Economics estimates.

New incentives to kick-start consumption are expected soon but will probably target mass-market products like white goods. China already rolled out trade-in subsidies for home appliances earlier this year and a range of consumption coupons.

None of this is very helpful for sellers of expensive luxury goods. For brands to see a recovery, Chinese consumers that spend anywhere from $7,000 to $43,000 a year on luxury products would need to feel much better about their finances than they currently do. Spending by this group has fallen 17% so far this year compared with the same period of 2023, according to a report by Boston Consulting Group.

Half-finished, abandoned housing estates are a big headache for China’s government, and are also on the mind of executives in Paris and Milan. Though the fortunes of luxury bosses likely isn’t high on Chinese officials’ priority list, their fates may be intertwined.

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People Without Kids Are Leaving Money to Surprised Heirs

Charities, distant relatives and even pets are benefiting from surprise inheritances. They can thank people without children.

Not having children is becoming more common, both among millennials and older people. A July Pew Research Center analysis found that 20% of U.S. adults age 50 and older hadn’t had children.

And many of these people don’t have wills. An AARP survey found half of childless people age 50-plus who live alone have a will, compared with 57% of others that age. Those without wills have less control over what happens to their money, which often ends up in the hands of people who don’t expect it.

This phenomenon of a surprise inheritance is common enough that it has a name: the laughing heir .

“All they do is get the money and go, ‘Ah ha ha, look at that,’ ” said Michael Ettinger , an estate lawyer in New York.

Kelley Gilpin McKeig, a 64-year-old healthcare-industry consultant in Ridgefield, Wash., received a phone call several years ago saying her cousin Nick Caldwell left behind money in a savings account. They hadn’t been in touch for 20 years.

“I thought it was a scam,” she said. “Nobody else in our family had heard that he had passed.”

She hunted down his death certificate and a news article and learned he had died about a year and a half before in a workplace accident.

Caldwell, who was in his 50s, had died without a will. His estate was split among cousins and an uncle. It took about two years for the money to be distributed because of the paperwork and court approval involved. Gilpin McKeig’s share was $2,300.

Afterward, she updated her will to make sure what she has doesn’t go to “just anybody down the line, or cousins I don’t care about.”

Who inherits

There are trillions of dollars at stake as baby boomers age.

Most people leave their money to spouses and children when they die. A 2021 analysis of Federal Reserve survey data found that 82% of heirs’ inheritances came from parents.

People with no children say they want to leave a greater share of their estates to charity, friends and extended family , according to research by two Yale law professors that surveyed 9,000 U.S. adults.

Rebecca Fornwalt, a 33-year-old writer, created a trust after landing a book deal. While her heirs are her parents, her backup heirs include her sister and about a half-dozen close friends. She set aside $15,000 for the care of each of her two dogs.

Susan Lassiter-Lyons , a financial coach in Florence, Ariz., said one childless client is leaving equal interests in her home to her two nephews. Another is leaving her home to a man she has been friends with for a long time.

“She broke his heart years ago and she feels guilted into leaving him property,” Lassiter-Lyons said.

A client who is a former escort estranged from her family is leaving her estate to two friends and to charity.

Lassiter-Lyons, who doesn’t have children, set up a trust for her two dogs should she and her wife die. The pet guardian, her wife’s sister, would live in their house while taking care of the dogs. When the dogs die, she inherits the house.

In the Yale study, people without descendants—children or grandchildren—intended to give 10% of their estates to charity, on average, more than triple the intended amount of those with descendants.

The Jewish Community Foundation of Los Angeles, which manages $1.3 billion of assets, a few years ago added an “heirless donors” section to its website that profiles donors and talks about building a legacy.

“Fifteen years ago, we never talked about child-free donors at all,” said Lew Groner , the foundation’s vice president for marketing.

In the absence of a will, heirs are determined by state law . Assets can wind up in the state’s hands. In New York, for example, $240 million in unclaimed funds over the past 10 years has arrived from estates of the deceased, not including real estate, according to the state comptroller’s office. In California, it is $54.3 million.

Hard questions

Financial advisers say a far bigger concern than who gets what is making sure there is enough money and support for a comfortable old age, because clients without children can’t call on them for help.

“I hope there is something left to leave,” said Stephanie Maxfield, a 43-year-old therapist in southern Colorado. “But if there isn’t, I think that’s OK, too.”

She said she would like to leave something to her partner’s nieces and nephews, as well as animal shelters and domestic-violence shelters. Her best friend is a beneficiary.

Choosing an estate executor and who would handle money and health decisions on your behalf can be difficult when you don’t have children, financial advisers say. Using a promised inheritance as a reward for taking care of you when you are older isn’t a good solution, said Jay Zigmont , an investment adviser focused on childless people.

“Unfortunately, it is relatively common to see family members who are in the will decide to opt for cheaper medical care (or similar decisions) in order to protect what they will be inheriting,” he said in an email.

Kirsten Tompkins, who is from Birmingham, U.K., and works in consulting, along with her husband divided their estate among their dozen nieces and nephews.

Choosing heirs was the easy part. What is hard is figuring out whom to ask for help as she and her husband get older, she said.

“A lot of us are at an age where we are playing that role for our parents,” the 50-year-old said, referring to tasks such as providing tech support and taking parents to medical appointments. “Who is going to do that for us?”

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Why Do Grand Hotels Fail? These 5 Examples Offer Some Answers—and Much Mystery

Many luxury hotels only build on their gilded reputations with each passing decade. But others are less fortunate. Here are five long-gone grandes dames that fell from grace—and one that persists, but in a significantly diminished form.

The Proto-Marmont |

The Garden of Allah, Los Angeles

A magnet for celebrities, the Garden of Allah was once the scene-making equivalent of today’s Chateau Marmont. Frank Sinatra and Ava Gardner’s affair allegedly started there and Humphrey Bogart lived in one of its bungalows for a time.

Crimean expat Alla Nazimova leased a grand home in Hollywood after World War I, but soon turned it into a hotel, where she prioritised glamorous clientele. Others risked being ejected by guards and a fearsome dog dubbed the Hound of the Baskervilles. Demolished in the 1950s, the site’s now a parking lot.

The Failed Follow-Up |

Hotel Astor, New York City

The Astor family hoped to repeat their success when they opened this sequel to their megahit Waldorf Astoria hotel in 1904. It became an anchor of the nascent Theater District, buzzy (and naughty) enough to inspire Cole Porter to write in “High Society”: “Have you heard that Mimsie Starr…got pinched in the Astor Bar?”

That bar soon gained another reputation. “Gentlemen who preferred the company of other gentlemen would meet in a certain section of the bar,” said travel expert Henry Harteveldt of consulting firm Atmosphere Research. By the 1960s, the hotel had lost its lustre and was demolished; the 54-storey One Astor Plaza skyscraper was built in its place.

The Island Playground |

Santa Carolina Hotel, Bazaruto Archipelago, Mozambique

In the 1950s, colonial officers around Africa treated Mozambique as an off-duty playground. They flocked, in particular, to the Santa Carolina, a five-star hotel on a gorgeous archipelago off the country’s southern coast.

Run by a Portuguese businessman and his wife, the resort included an airstrip that ferried visitors in and out. Ask locals why the place was eventually reduced to rubble, and some whisper that the couple were cursed—and that’s why no one wanted to take over when the business collapsed in the ’70s. Today, seeing the abandoned, crumbled ruins and murals bleached by the sun, it’s hard to dismiss their superstitions entirely.

The Tourism Gimmick |

Bali Hai Raiatea, French Polynesia 

The overwater bungalow, a shorthand for barefoot luxury around the world, began in French Polynesia—but not with the locals. Instead, it was a marketing gimmick cooked up by a trio of rascally Americans. They moved to French Polynesia in the late 1950s, and soon tried to capitalise on the newly built international airport and a looming tourism boom.

That proved difficult because their five-room hotel on the island of Raiatea lacked a beach. They devised a fix: building rooms on pontoons above the water. They were an instant phenomenon, spreading around the islands and the world—per fan site OverwaterBungalows.net , there are now more than 9,000 worldwide, from the Maldives to Mexico. That first property, though, is no more.

The New England Holdout |

Poland Springs Resort, Poland, Maine

The Ricker family started out as innkeepers, running a stagecoach stop in Maine in the 1790s. When Hiram Ricker took over the operation, the family expanded into the business by which it would make its fortune: water. Thanks to savvy marketing, by the 1870s, doctors were prescribing Poland Spring mineral water and die-hards were making pilgrimages to the source.

The Rickers opened the Poland Spring House in 1876, and eventually expanded it to include one of the earliest resort-based golf courses in the country, a barber shop, dance studio and music hall. By the turn of the century, it was among the most glamorous resort complexes in New England.

Mismanagement eventually forced its sale in 1962, and both the water operation and hospitality holdings went through several owners and operators. While the water venture retains its prominence, the hotel has weathered less well, becoming a pleasant—but far from luxurious—mid-market resort. Former NYU hospitality professor Bjorn Hanson says attempts at upgrading over the decades have been futile. “I was a consultant to a developer in the 1970s to return the resort to its ‘former glory,’ but it never happened.”

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Does a ‘Status Handbag’ Still Have Status in 2024? We Investigate.

LIKE MARVEL VILLAINS, most fashion writers have origin stories. Mine began with a navy nylon Prada purse, salvaged from a Boston thrift store when I was a teen in the 1990s. Scuffed with black streaks and sagging, it was terribly beat-up. But I saw it as a golden ticket to a future, chicer self. No longer a screechy suburban theatre kid, I would revamp myself as sophisticated, arch, even aloof. The bag, I reasoned, would lead the way.

That fall, I slung it against my shoulder like a shotgun and marched into school, where a girl far more interesting than I was called out, “Hey, cool bag.” After feigning apathy —“I don’t know, you could use a Sharpie on a lunch bag and it would look the same”—we became friends. She introduced me to a former classmate who worked at a magazine. That woman helped me get an internship, which led to a job.

Twenty years later, I still wonder how big of a role that Prada purse played in my future—and whether designer bags can function as a silent partner in our success. Branded luxury bags took off in 1957, when Grace Kelly posed with an Hermès bag in Life magazine. (Hermès renamed that bag “the Kelly” in 1973.) The term “status bag” was popularised in 1990 by Gaile Robinson in the Los Angeles Times, describing any purse that projects social or economic power. Not surprisingly, these accessories are costly. Kelly bags cost over $10,000; ditto Chanel’s 11.22 handbag. Some bags by Louis Vuitton and Dior command similar price points. The cost isn’t repelling customers—both brands reported revenue surges in 2023. But isn’t there something dusty about the idea that a branded bag carries meaning along with your phone and wallet? How much status can a status bag deliver in 2024?

Quite a lot, said Daniel Langer, a business professor at Pepperdine University and the CEO of Équité, a Swiss luxury consulting firm. Beginning in 2007, Langer showed a series of photo portraits to hundreds of people across Europe, Asia and the U.S., then asked them 60 questions. Those pictured carrying a luxury handbag were seen as “more attractive, more intelligent, more interesting,” he said. The conclusion was “so ridiculous” to Langer that he repeated the studies several times over the next decade and a half. The results were always the same: “Purchasing a ‘status bag’ will prepare you to be more successful in your social actions. That is the data.”

Intrigued, I gathered various Very Important Purses—I borrowed some from friends, and others from brands—to see if they could elevate my station with the same unspoken oomph as a “Pride and Prejudice” suitor.

First, I took Alaïa’s Le Teckel bag—a narrow purse resembling an elegant flute case and carried by actress Margot Robbie—to New York’s Carlyle Hotel on a Saturday night. The line for the famous Bemelmans Bar stretched to the fire exit. “Can I get a table right away?” I asked the host, holding out my bag like a passport before an international flight. “It’s very busy,” he said in hushed tones. “But come sit. A table should open soon.” I sank into one of the Carlyle’s lush red sofas and sipped a martini while waiting—a much nicer way to kill 30 minutes than slumped against a lobby wall.

Wondering if this was a one-time thing, I called up Desta, the mononymous “culture director” (read: gatekeeper) who has worked for Manhattan celebrity hide-outs like Chapel Bar and Boom, the Standard Hotel bar that hosts the Met Gala’s official after party. “Sure, we pay attention to bags,” he said. “Not too long ago at Veronika,” the Park Avenue restaurant where Desta also steered the social ship, “we had one table left. A woman had a Saint Laurent bag from the Hedi Era,” he said, referencing Hedi Slimane , the brand’s revered designer from 2012 to 2016. “I said, ‘Give her the table. She appreciates style. She’ll appreciate this place.’”

Some say a status bag can open professional doors, too. Cleo Capital founder Sarah Kunst, who lives between San Francisco and London, notes that in private-equity circles, these accessories can act as a quick head-nod in introductory situations. Kunst says that especially as a Black woman, she found a designer bag to be “almost like armour” at the beginning of her career. “You put it on, and if you’re walking into a work event or a happy hour where you need to network, it can help you fit in immediately.” She cites Chanel flap bags made from the brand’s signature quilted leather and stamped with a double-C logo as an industry favourite. “People love to talk about them. They’ll say, ‘Ohhh, I love your bag,’ in a low voice.” They talk to you, said Kunst, “like you’re a tiger.”

For high-stakes jobs that rely on commissions—sports agents or sales reps, for instance—a fancy handbag can help establish credibility. “It says, ‘I’m succeeding at my job,’” said Mary Bonnet, vice president of the Oppenheim Group, the California real-estate firm at the centre of Netflix reality show “Selling Sunset.” As a new real-estate agent in her 20s, Bonnet brought a fake designer bag to a meeting. To her horror, a potential buyer had the real thing. “I work in an industry where trust is important, and there I was being inauthentic. That was a real lesson.” Now Bonnet rotates several (real) Saint Laurent and Chanel bags, but notes that a super-expensive purse could alienate some clients. “I don’t think I’d walk into [some client homes] with a giant Hermès bag.”

Hermès bags are supposedly the apex predator of purses. But I didn’t feel invincible when I strapped a Kelly bag around my chest like a pebbled-leather ammo belt. The dun-brown purse cost $11,800, a sum that prompted my boyfriend to ask if I needed a bodyguard. Shaking with “is this insured?” anxiety, I walked into a showing for an $8.5 million apartment steps from Central Park. I made it through the door but was soon stopped by a gruff real-estate agent asking if I had an appointment. No, but I had an Hermès bag? Alas, it wasn’t enough. The gleaming black door closed in my face.

“What went wrong?” I asked Dafna Goor, a London Business School professor who studies the psychology behind luxury purchases. “You felt nervous,” she replied. “That always makes others uncomfortable, especially in a high stakes situation,” like an open house with jittery agents. Goor said recognisable bags from Louis Vuitton and Christian Dior are also often faked, which can lead to suspicion if not paired with “other signals of wealth.”

“You can’t just treat a bag as a backstage pass,” said Jess Graves, who runs the shopping Substack the Love List. Graves says bags are more of a secret code shared between potential connections. “I’ve been in line for coffee and a woman will see my Margaux [from the Row] and go, ‘Oh, I know that bag.’ Then we’ll chat.” Graves moved from Atlanta to Manhattan in 2023, and says she’s made some new, local friends thanks to these “bag chats.”

I had my own bag chat that night, when I brought Khaite’s Olivia—a slim crescent of shiny maroon leather—to a house party thrown by a rock star I’d never met. In fact I knew hardly any guests, but as I stood in the kitchen, a woman in vintage Chanel pointed to my bag and asked, “How did you get that colour? It’s sold out!” Before I could tell her my name, she told me the make and model of my purse. Then she laughed about her ex-boss, a tech billionaire, and encouraged me to buy some cryptocurrency. The token I picked surged nearly 30% in about a week. Now I was onto something—a status bag that might bring not just status, but an actual market return.

Thanks to their prominence on social media, certain bags have gained favour among Gen Zers. “TikTok and Instagram make some luxury items even more visible and more desirable to young people,” said Goor. I experienced this firsthand on a stormy Saturday morning, when a girl in a college hoodie pointed at my Miu Miu Wander bag as I puddle-hopped through downtown New York. The piglet-pink purse is a TikTok favourite seen on young stars like Sydney Sweeney and Hailey Bieber. “Your bag is everything!” yelled the girl from the crosswalk. “Thanks, can I have your umbrella?” I shouted back. She laughed and left. My Wander had made a splash—but it couldn’t keep me dry. I ran to the subway, soaked. The bag looked even better wet.

Changing the Status Bag Quo

Everyone loves an ingénue—fashion insiders included. Perhaps that’s why at Paris Fashion Week in September, newer handbags from Bottega Veneta and Loewe jostled for space and street-style flashbulbs.

“These bags, especially ones by independent labels like Khaite, are quieter signals of cultural access,” explained Goor. “Everyone knows what an Hermès Kelly bag is. So now there need to be new signals” beyond traditional status bags to convey power.

Sasha Bikoff Cooper, a Manhattan interior designer, says there’s a less cynical explanation for why these bags have captured celebrity fans—and more important, paying customers. “They’re fresh and also beautiful,” she said. “Hermès is always classic. It’s like a first love. But you want newness, too.”

The Wall Street Journal is not compensated by retailers listed in its articles as outlets for products. Listed retailers frequently are not the sole retail outlets.

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Money Buys Happiness, Even if You’re Already Rich

A big raise provides significant boosts in happiness even at household incomes of $500,000, according to a new research report.

A wealth of research has long shown that more money makes a big difference to people with low pay, moving them from insecurity to stability. Above that level, the effect is often assumed to be much smaller.

But according to a paper by Matt Killingsworth , a senior fellow at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School, the bonuses and leaps in income high earners reap are so large that they keep adding to well-being in the same way that smaller pay bumps do at lower tiers of earnings.

“I think of this as a ladder across society. The rungs are separated by more and more dollars, but exactly the same amount of happiness,” said Killingsworth, who published his report on his Happiness Science website.

An academic paper in 2010 popularised $75,000 as the salary threshold beyond which earning more money didn’t make people any happier. More recent research indicates that there is no such plateau.

Killingsworth and other researchers stress that many things influence human happiness, including your relationships, your job and the country you live in.

“No single factor, including money, dominates the equation,” Killingsworth said.

Previous studies on money and happiness have consistently demonstrated two things: that richer people are happier, and that it takes progressively more money to keep generating a well-being boost of a given size.

Killingsworth says that many people draw the wrong conclusion from that latter finding. They assume that money makes the biggest difference on Americans’ happiness at lower levels of income.

His paper suggests this assumption is wrong. That is because earnings surge exponentially across the income distribution, offsetting money’s diminishing returns on happiness even at the high end.

The lowest-earning 20% of U.S. households on average brought in about $23,000 before taxes in 2021, and the middle 20% earned about $87,000, according to the latest data from the Congressional Budget Office. The top 20% averaged roughly $418,000, with the very highest earners making significantly more than that.

“It could be entirely reasonable for an individual to continue aspiring to climb one more rung in the income ladder” to pursue happiness, Killingsworth writes in his paper.

Even Americans earning a lot of money wish they could do just that. Last year, survey respondents with incomes of $200,000 or more said that the median income they would need to be happy and less stressed was $350,000, according to data from the financial-services company Empower.

More money doesn’t guarantee more happiness. The side effects vary. Some who receive big raises later report big letdowns. Others who voluntarily take a pay cut say they are glad they did.

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In a Florida Town Ravaged by Storms, Homeowners All Want to Sell

ST. PETERSBURG, Fla.—Kellen Driscoll bought his home here in 2019, settling in the coastal enclave of Shore Acres. It flooded for the first time four years ago after tropical storm Eta dumped more than 3 feet of water.

Hoping it was a fluke, Driscoll tore out the affected drywall and started fresh. After all, the four-bedroom home built in 1960 had no flood history.

But then it happened again, and again. Like many others in the community, he put his home up for sale in the spring of this year. After seeing little interest, he cut the asking price.

On Friday, Hurricane Helene deposited more than 6 feet of storm surge in the neighbourhood. The rushing waters ripped the “For Sale” sign off his front lawn, and etched a waterline that reached halfway up his front door, just underneath the doorbell. He reduced the asking price for a fifth time.

“We flooded here four times in the last four years,” said Driscoll, as he threw his television sets, furniture, appliances and other belongings to the curb. “I’m just hoping I can sell the house. It’s a good neighbourhood for sure, but dealing with the floods is horrible.”

When Kellen Driscoll purchased his home in 2019 it had no flood history. Since then his home, built in 1960, has flooded four times in the past four years. Photo: Deborah Acosta/WSJ

In the Tampa Bay metropolitan area, which includes St. Petersburg, a real-estate boom nearly doubled median home values from 2018 to June of this year, according to Redfin data. Young people flocked to the region, looking for a coastal lifestyle at a relatively affordable price.

The Tampa Bay metro area was the fifth most popular relocation destination in the country, according to an analysis by Redfin last year. The population has soared to more than three million.

But as Shore Acres’s young residents sorted through the storm’s wreckage, only one thing was on their minds: selling.

Ballooning home insurance costs and the perennial threat of violent storms are starting to undermine housing markets throughout much of the state. But in few places has the turnaround been more dramatic than in low-lying communities up and down the coast of Florida that frequently flood.

The Tampa Bay housing market had been softening even before Helene struck. While prices have been flat, the area experienced a 58% increase in supply in August compared with a year ago, and a 10% decrease in demand, according to Parcl Labs, a real-estate data and analytics firm.

About half the homes listed for sale in Tampa experienced price reductions as of Sept. 9, the third highest share of all U.S. major metropolitan areas.

“Tampa was already heading in this direction before the hurricane hit,” said Jason Lewris, co-founder of Parcl Labs. “This hurricane may compound the market dynamics that have been occurring there over the last few months.”

While Tampa escaped a direct hit from the eye of the hurricane, it was the worst storm to hit the area in a century. The hurricane also plowed into landlocked towns well north, causing heavy damage in the Carolinas where people were just beginning  to absorb the scope of ruin.

‘Let’s roll the dice’

Bradley Tennant’s home flooded last year. But to avoid all the competition, he was waiting a year to put it up for sale.

“We saw the glut of homes for sale in the spring and thought, ‘What are the chances it’ll hit again the next year?’” said Tennant, as he cleared out the soaked contents of his waterfront home. “We went 50 years without a storm that flooded the house. So we thought, let’s roll the dice.”

While he paid around $350,000 for the house about seven years ago, Tennant says he received offers as high as $800,000 during the height of the market—before last year’s storm hit. Now he’s hoping to sell as soon as he’s able to renovate.

The area’s affordability, once a large part of its appeal, is also waning as insurance premiums soar. Jacob McFadden was paying $880 a year to insure his home when he bought it in 2020. That amount has since almost quadrupled, to $3,300.

Premiums will likely increase again now. Property damage from last week’s Category 4 storm could be as high as $26 billion, according to estimates from Moody’s Analytics.

“I don’t know how much longer I’m going to do this waterfront living,” McFadden said, standing in front of his home with a wheelbarrow and his home’s contents scattered around the front yard. “This may be the end.”

Dustin Pentz bought his home 10 years ago, and was one of the lucky few to avoid flooding. That is until Hurricane Helene. When police blocked his car from entering the neighbourhood, he paddleboarded his way home to assess the damage.

His fridge was knocked over, and the water reached up as high as his mattress. Unfortunately, his flood insurance doesn’t cover the contents of his home. A tree in his backyard fell over and hit the corner of his roof, but he was unsure that the damage would hit his $8,500 wind deductible.

“This neighbourhood’s amazing, great schools. But no one wants to deal with this all the time,” said Pentz. “It sucks because no one wants to live here anymore. There are so many houses for sale and no one’s buying.”

Working class squeezed

Down the street, Domonique Tomlinson and her husband, Leon Tomlinson, filed a claim for items they lost in last year’s flood. They didn’t want to go through the headache of filing another claim for the contents of their home this year, with a separate $5,000 deductible.

Two days before Hurricane Helene hit, they rented a moving van to haul many of their belongings to a storage unit. She bought her home four years ago for around $199,000. Because property values have increased so much in her area, she hopes to break even. But now she says she’s not so sure.

Tomlinson, who is a teacher, and her husband, who works as a manager at a grocery store, worry that people like them will be priced out of the area because they can’t afford the preventive measures and insurance.

“Basically the only people that are going to be able to live back here are rich people who can build up,” she said.

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China’s Housing Glut Collides With Its Shrinking Population

China’s real-estate bust left behind tens of millions of empty housing units. Now that historic glut of unoccupied property is colliding with China’s shrinking population , leaving cities stuck with homes they might never be able to fill.

The country could have as many as 90 million empty housing units, according to a tally of economists’ estimates. Assuming three people per household, that’s enough for the entire population of Brazil.

Filling those homes would be hard enough even if China’s population were growing, but it’s not. Because of the country’s one-child policy , it is expected to fall by 204 million people over the next 30 years.

“Fundamentally, there are not enough people to fill the homes,” said Tianlei Huang, a research fellow at the Peterson Institute for International Economics.

Some unused real estate will be bought up and lived in, especially if more government support—which economists have been calling for —convinces Chinese buyers that values will rise again. Big cities like Beijing, Shanghai and Shenzhen will almost certainly absorb their excess housing, given their dynamic economies and migrant inflows, which have helped keep their populations growing.

The problem is much harder to solve in smaller cities, which often have weaker economic prospects and declining populations. In China, researchers informally group cities into tiers, and many of the nearly 340 cities classified as third-, fourth- and fifth-tier—with populations from few hundred thousand to several million people—are struggling economically.

Young residents are leaving. At least 60% of China’s third-, fourth- and fifth-tier cities saw their populations shrink from 2020 to 2023, according to Wall Street Journal calculations based on official data.

Those cities have more than 60% of China’s housing inventory, according to Harvard economics professor Kenneth Rogoff . Many encouraged developers to build more—even when their populations were falling—because land sales and construction boosted economic growth and fattened local governments’ wallets.

Figuring out what to do with unneeded property is becoming more urgent as China’s economy languishes . In May, Beijing unveiled a rescue package in which the central bank would provide up to $42 billion in low-interest loans for Chinese banks to lend to state-owned firms, which would then buy empty properties and turn them into affordable housing.

By the end of June, banks had only used 4% of that quota. Economists say that even with cheap loans, it doesn’t make sense to convert empty properties, because the rents would be too low for firms to earn a profit.

Beijing recently ramped up measures to support the ailing economy and the property market, including cutting interest rates, lowering down payments for second homes and allowing home buyers to refinance their mortgages . However, economists said that more is needed to pull China’s economy out of the rut.

China’s Ministry of Housing and Urban-Rural Development and the State Council Information Office didn’t respond to questions.

Robin Xing , chief China economist at Morgan Stanley, said China’s government should introduce a more comprehensive bailout that involves buying up excess inventory in China’s 30 to 50 largest cities and turning it into public housing , without worrying about profit. Estimated cost: $420 billion.

That wouldn’t include empty homes in third-, fourth- and fifth-tier Chinese cities. Putting more money into those units, many economists say, wouldn’t make sense because there aren’t enough people to live in them anyway.

Many will become long-term burdens to cities and investors who get saddled with assets they can’t sell and which have lost their value, yet still must be maintained. Some will just wither away, economists say.

Cheap as cabbage

An abandoned development called State Guest Mansions, on the edge of Shenyang, a city in northeastern China, gives an idea of what that could look like. Construction stopped years ago, with more than 100 half-built villas in the style of grand European homes.

During a recent visit, goats roamed the complex. Grandeur Place, the building that used to house the sales showroom, looked like a post-apocalyptic opera house , with a dilapidated chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It remains unclear what will be done with the complex, whose developer has defaulted on its debt.

Shenyang at least has a growing population. In Hegang, a frigid city near China’s border with Russia, the population has declined to 940,000 from 1.09 million in 2010.

A few years ago, when Hegang’s market was hot, property enthusiasts posted online messages touting homes they said were as cheap as cabbage.

Prices now are even lower, according to an online property broker, and sales have stalled. Hegang’s inventory of unsold homes more than doubled from 2019 to 2022. Assuming a typical home size of around 1,200 square feet—the average in China in its 2020 census—only 534 residential homes in Hegang sold in 2022, according to official data on total square feet for residential real estate sold.

A 650-square-feet apartment in the city centre was recently listed for just under $9,300.

Zhou Yongzhi, a part-time stock trader who grew up there, said most high-rise apartment buildings in the city centre are dark at night. “Hegang is my hometown, and I want to see it flourish. But I don’t see much hope for it in the next 10 to 20 years,” he said.

Hegang’s government didn’t respond to requests for comment.

Rogoff, the Harvard professor, said he believes there will be some cities in China in which a quarter of the housing is empty.

In such places, “it is very hard to maintain law and order, even probably in China,” he said. “I think it’s going to be a big social and governance problem in the future.”

Complex issue

China’s property glut developed over a years long construction boom that ended in 2021, when Beijing, worried about a bubble, tightened credit for builders. It quickly became clear that developers had overbuilt  .

It’s hard to determine exactly how big the problem is. China doesn’t provide an official count of empty units, so economists must devise estimates using vacancy rates, building permits and other data sources. They estimate the number is in the tens of millions—including several kinds of empty properties, each with its own challenges.

Of the up to 90 million units that are unoccupied, as many as 31 million were fully or partially built but never sold. Such properties could be bulldozed, but many are tied up in litigation related to developers’ bankruptcies. In many cases, cities and developers hope to finish them.

Another 50 to 60 million units were bought but remain empty. Many Chinese, lacking other good ways to invest their money, poured excess cash into speculative properties—often in smaller cities, where prices were cheaper—without any intention of living in them.

Approximately 74% of Chinese households in first- and second-tier cities owned more than one home across China, while nearly 20% owned three homes or more, according to a recent survey by Citi Research.

These homes are potentially more difficult to deal with because their owners still hope for appreciation. Many are in partially occupied buildings that can’t be torn down.

An additional 20 million units were sold but were left largely unbuilt by developers due to cash-flow problems and poor market conditions. The owners still want them, but developers don’t have money to finish them.

Venice on the Sea

Many builders set their sights on smaller cities when times were good. Bigger cities were getting expensive, and investors seemed willing to buy anywhere so long as prices kept climbing.

Smaller cities embraced the activity. Many issued robust population-growth forecasts, despite evidence China’s population was peaking, because it helped them secure more resources from provincial governments and justify more building projects.

In Qidong, where the Yangtze River empties into the East China Sea, local officials struggled for years to lure major investments such as factories. Selling land to developers helped them meet growth targets. Qidong’s land sales revenue more than doubled from $932 million in 2017 to $2 billion in 2021, according to data compiled by Shanghai-based Wind Information.

Developers, in turn, marketed Qidong as an ideal bedroom community for Shanghai, a two-hour drive away.

The city’s population peaked at 1.1 million in 2020 and has declined for three consecutive years. The number of local jobs has been declining since 2007.

One of the new projects, Venice on the Sea, has 40,000 units, an artificial beach and a five-star resort. Residents can enjoy faux Venetian canals and pathways dotted with Greek and Roman statues.

Xiang Dayu, a property agent there, remembers feverish demand during peak years. Some buyers openly discussed buying apartments for mistresses. Others were willing to pay without inspecting homes in person.

But most people—many from Shanghai—bought homes as investments and left them empty, Xiang says. Now, most units sit unoccupied much of the year, with occupancy rising to only around 60% during peak summer months.

Many owners are trying to sell, with dozens of units listed on auction websites or marketed on Douyin, China’s version of TikTok. In one video recently posted to Douyin, a landlord showed a property agent around a 1,030-square-foot unit, which the owner said he bought in 2016 for around $101,000 after a beach trip to Qidong with friends.

“I thought the unit had a nice view, so I bought it there and then. I never lived here, not even once, and bought it completely for investment purposes,” he said in the video. He is now trying to sell the place for around $63,100.

Venice on the Sea was built by now-bankrupt China Evergrande Group. To the north sits another massive, largely empty residential complex built by defaulted developer Country Garden . To its south is an unfinished compound developed by China Sunac Group , which also defaulted. To its west: acres of farmland.

Local government officials didn’t respond for comment.

Ghost cities

In other countries that have had overbuilt property markets, it has sometimes taken years for excess supply to be absorbed—if ever.

In Japan, a 1990s real-estate bust and a shrinking, ageing population left millions of empty homes. Tearing them down proved hard due to legal hurdles, such as when the owner can’t be located. The number of empty units grew to 9 million last year from 8.5 million in 2018, with houses littering Japan’s landscape.

In China, many owners of empty properties are likely to keep maintaining their units, since management fees in China are low and property taxes are only levied in special cases. Tough personal-bankruptcy rules in China make it hard to walk away from properties, and many want to hang on to them for a possible market rebound.

Still, some economists fear a negative spiral in which declining home prices spur more owners to try to unload empty units, depressing values for everyone.

Prices for new and existing homes in major Chinese cities fell 5.7% and 8.6% in August from a year earlier, respectively, according to National Bureau of Statistics data.

Property prices in most cities have returned to 2017 and 2018 levels, said Yi Wang, head of China real-estate research at Goldman Sachs. If prices drop to 2015 levels, many more owners might choose to sell unoccupied properties. That’s because 2015 was the beginning of the last boom, and owners who bought early won’t want to see their units’ values fall below what they paid, Wang said.

That might be inevitable, though, given China’s falling population.

“I don’t think the housing oversupply problem has a solution, really,” said Huang, of the Peterson Institute. “Fundamentally, it’s the problem of declining demographics. Ghost cities will remain ghostly.”

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Touch Screens Are Over. Even Apple Is Bringing Back Buttons.

The tyranny of touch screens may be coming to an end.

Companies have spent nearly two decades cramming ever more functions onto tappable, swipeable displays. Now buttons, knobs, sliders and other physical controls are making a comeback in vehicles, appliances and personal electronics.

In cars, the widely emulated ultra-minimalism of Tesla’s touch-screen-centric control panels is giving way to actual buttons, knobs and toggles in new models from Kia , BMW ’s Mini, and Volkswagen , among others. This trend is delighting reviewers and making the display-focused interiors of Tesla and its imitators feel passé.

Similar re-buttonisation is occurring in everything from e-readers to induction stoves.

Perhaps the most prominent exponent of this button boom is the company that set us lurching toward touch screens in the first place. Apple  added a third button it calls the “action button” to its full slate of new iPhone 16s unveiled this month, after introducing the feature on its upscale Apple Watch Ultra and Pro-model iPhones over the past couple of years. It also added a button-like “camera control” input on the iPhone’s side.

As Apple shows, companies aren’t just rediscovering buttons, they’re reconceiving them. The camera control includes touch features, and the company has also developed the “force sensor” that enables its AirPods to respond when you squeeze their stems.

Engineers and industrial designers—often prodded by user complaints—are tapping into our exquisitely sensitive sense of touch and spatial awareness, known as proprioception. And it’s all in service of making gadgets easier, more fun and, in some cases, safer to use. We want to touch type or operate cruise control without averting our eyes from the road.

Why buttons became sensors

To understand why buttons are making a comeback in a world in which any kind of controls are possible, it helps to understand how we got to the current, too-often sorry state of human-machine interfaces.

Touch screens have their virtues, which explains the initial enthusiasm for them. We can do a lot more by tapping our iPhones than we ever could have with the old-school BlackBerry , however much we miss those clicky little keyboards.

As soaring production drove down the price of such displays, though, they became something of a crutch for gadget designers and corporate bean counters.

“Now that touch screens are the cheapest option, they’re being deployed everywhere, even in places where they don’t belong,” says Sam Calisch, chief executive of Copper, a startup that makes induction ranges for cooking . In electric stoves and ovens, this has led to poor design decisions—for example, induction cooktops with touch-based controls that become inoperable when a pot boils over, as my Wall Street Journal colleague Nicole Nguyen lamented last year .

Even when our devices have buttons, they are too often the kind that are flat like touch screens, and have similar shortcomings. Capacitive buttons sit flush on hard surfaces and don’t actually give way when you press, and so can only signal they’ve been activated through sound or light. These, too, have taken over because they are cheap and easy to incorporate into the printed circuit boards that are already inside gadgets, whereas incorporating physical switches means additional wiring and complexity, Calisch says.

Anyone who has known the agony of having to mash a capacitive button on a newer washer, dryer or dishwasher knows how uniquely infuriating such cost-cutting measures—masquerading as futuristic interfaces—can be.

The hazards of ‘touch’ interfaces

Fundamentally, the problem with touch-based interfaces is that they aren’t touch-based at all, because they need us to look when using them. Think, for example, of the screen of your smartphone, which requires your undivided gaze when you press on its smooth surface.

As a result, “touch screen” is a misnomer, says Rachel Plotnick, associate professor of cinema and media studies at Indiana University Bloomington, and author of the 2018 book “Power Button: A History of Pleasure, Panic, and the Politics of Pushing,” the definitive history of buttons. Such interfaces would be more accurately described as “sight-based,” she says.

The hazards of burying many of a vehicle’s controls inside touch-screen menus that need drivers to look at them have become so obvious that the one European automotive safety body has declared that vehicles must have physical switches and buttons to receive its highest safety rating. Responding to criticism from drivers, Volkswagen has pledged to bring back physical controls for certain oft-used features, such as climate control.

Newer electric vehicles from BMW Mini are bristling with physical controls. To make it so drivers never have to take their eyes off the road, industrial designers at Mini put into their vehicles a user-customizable head-up display that drivers can navigate using buttons and a scroll wheel on the steering wheel, says Patrick McKenna, head of product and marketing at Mini USA. These controls can also be accessed through the vehicle’s round touch screen, and via a voice assistant. The entire point of the vehicle’s interfaces is redundancy, safety and a reduction in distractions, he adds.

Satisfying switches and clicky keyboards

The switch back to physical interfaces is also, in many ways, a vibe shift. With touch screens ubiquitous, what was once viewed as luxurious is becoming tacky. Physical controls, done well, now signal the kind of thoughtfulness and exclusivity once attached to the original iPhone.

Take the knobs on the induction range from Copper. Made of walnut, they let cooks know, without looking, the level of heat they’ve set a burner to—just like physical knobs on a gas range. This is deliberate, says Calisch, who admits that in the past he’s put capacitive-touch sensors on other electronics he’s designed.

Physical controls are effective in part because of our sixth sense, known as proprioception. Distinct from the sense of touch, proprioception describes our innate awareness of where our body parts are. It is the reason we can know the position of all our limbs in three-dimensional space down to the precise position of the tips of our fingers.

Making good physical interfaces isn’t just about the utility of engaging our sense of touch; the big button comeback is also about joy. Think of the satisfying heft of the volume knob on a hi-fi stereo, or the way a proper ergonomic keyboard can make typing seem less of a chore.

A good example of this sense of fun is the hand crank on the side of the Playdate portable video game system, which also includes a familiar, plus-shaped D-pad and two buttons. Putting a controller that works like the crank on an old coffee grinder onto a gadget resembling the original Gameboy is about whimsy, but also introduces new game mechanics that would otherwise be cumbersome or even impossible on other devices, says Greg Maletic, director of special projects at Panic, the company that makes the Playdate.

Makers of musical instruments have always understood the importance of physical controls. Teenage Engineering, the Swedish consumer-electronics company Panic partnered with to make the Playdate, makes a variety of synthesisers bristling with a dizzying array of buttons, sliders and knobs.

Once you know what to look for, it becomes apparent that this kind of design thinking is showing up all over the place, and that adding physical controls back to a device ignominiously stripped of them can unlock new kinds of interaction and utility.

E-readers have begun adding back page-turn buttons. While Amazon has abandoned such buttons in its Kindles, competitors from Kobo, Nook and Boox all now offer models that include them.

Similarly, Apple—whose 2007 launch of the iPhone ushered in a touch-screen era—is adding a surprising variety of buttons back to devices that previously seemed on a trajectory to have none at all.

It restored the physical function keys atop the keyboards on its MacBook Pro computers in 2021, after replacing them with much fanfare in 2016 with a touch-screen strip that it touted as the Touch Bar. Apple boasted that restoring physical keys brought “back the familiar, tactile feel of mechanical keys that pro users love.”

The push to re-physicalise interfaces has even led to an unexpected side gig for Dr. Plotnick, the academic authority on buttons. Companies are tapping her to consult on how to improve their physical controls. At its heart, these consultations—which include advising on the function of potentially lifesaving buttons on medical devices—are about making interactions with machines less intimidating and more intuitive.

“You know, there’s often a lot of skill behind button pushing—even though it seems like the simplest thing in the world,” she says.

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World Economy on Track for Slight Pickup as Inflation Is Tamed

Falling interest rates and recovering real wages will help drive a slight pickup in global economic growth this year and next, while recent falls in oil prices could aid the final push to tame inflation, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development said Wednesday.

However, the Paris-based research body warned that “comparatively benign” projections may not come to pass, with uncertainties remaining about how large an impact high interest rates will have on demand in the months ahead, while an escalation of the conflicts in the Middle East could push oil prices sharply higher.

In its quarterly report on the economic outlook, the OECD said it now expects global output to increase by 3.2% in 2024 and again in 2025, having grown by 3.1% last year. That was a slight upgrade from the 3.1% growth it forecast in May, and a sizable revision from the 2.7% expansion it expected to see when it published forecasts at the end of 2023.

The U.S. is largely responsible for that better performance, but India and Brazil are also growing more rapidly than expected, as is the U.K. By contrast, Germany and Japan have disappointed, with the former now forecast to hover on the brink of stagnation this year, and the latter to experience a small contraction.

However, despite the improved outlook for growth, and inflation rates that the OECD expects to fall to central-bank targets by the end of next year, consumer confidence has yet to pick up significantly, which would give a further boost to growth.

The OECD said that persistent dissatisfaction with economic performance, which is not limited to the U.S., is likely linked to the fact that food prices remain well above their pre-pandemic levels.

“There is a disconnect between how the economy is perceived and how the economy is doing,” said Alvaro Pereira , the OECD’s chief economist. “For people who go to the supermarket, food prices relative to wages are still higher.”

In the U.S., the gap between food-price and wage inflation between the end of 2019 and the second quarter of this year was roughly four percentage points. But that gap was much wider in large European economies, and above 15 percentage points in Germany. In South Africa, it was above 20 points.

The recent fall in oil prices may help offset some of that dissatisfaction, and boost a global fight to tame inflation that appears to be in its final stages. The OECD estimated that the 10% decline since July would knock half a percentage point off the global rate of inflation, if it were to be sustained. But it is far from certain that it will be.

“If the conflict in the Middle East escalates, this will have an impact on energy prices,” Pereira said.

Should escalation be avoided, the OECD said further falls in oil prices could allow for a faster reduction in central-bank interest rates than it currently expects, and boost growth in countries that don’t produce oil.

With inflation rates set to fall further, the OECD said central banks should lower their key interest rates, but in a manner that is “carefully judged” to ensure price rises continue to slow. It expects the Federal Reserve’s key rate to fall by a further 1.5 percentage points by the end of 2025, while the European Central Bank’s key rate is forecast to fall by 1.25 percentage points.

The Paris-based body said the interest-rate rises that central banks announced in 2022 and 2023 to counter a surge in inflation continue to weigh on growth, although with diminishing force.

But it noted that many households and businesses continue to see the interest rates they pay rise as their debts mature and they enter into new contracts. The OECD estimated that almost a third of rich-country corporate debt is due to mature in 2026, with new debt issued to replace it likely paying a higher rate of interest.

The OECD left its forecast for U.S. growth in 2024 unchanged at 2.6%, and also retained its 4.9% projection for China. Pereira said the package of stimulus measures announced by the Chinese government Tuesday could lead to a “slight” upward revision when the OECD next releases growth forecasts in early December.

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Unicef Has a Growing Circle of Ultra-Wealthy Individuals on Tap

During the Covid pandemic in 2021, Silicon Valley venture capitalist John O’Farrell organised a call with several tech CEOs to urge them to back Unicef’s efforts to distribute vaccines globally as he and his wife, Gloria Principe, were doing.

Stewart Butterfield , co-founder and—at the time—the CEO of Slack, and his wife, Jen Rubio , co-founder and CEO of Away, “gave US$25 million on the spot,” and challenged other tech CEOs to give, too, says Kristen Jones, Unicef’s fundraising manager, global philanthropy.

O’Farrell is on the national board of the organisation and a member of the Unicef International Council, a network of 150 wealthy individuals from 22 countries.

“We were trying to mobilise resources really quickly,” Jones says. In this instance, an International Council member showed how the “influence and trust” of individuals and their network can be extended to Unicef and its mission.

Unicef National Board Chairman Bernard Taylor, an arbitrator and mediator at Judicial Arbitration and Mediation ADR Services and a retired partner with Alston & Bird, is also a member of the organisation’s International Council.
Courtesy of Unicef

Unicef, officially the United Nations Children’s Fund, is a U.N. agency focused on humanitarian and developmental aid to children. It relies on funding from governments and intergovernmental agencies. But it also depends on the private sector, from US$1 gifts provided by individuals across the world to giving by corporations, foundations, and wealthy donors.

Total giving to Unicef from the private sector totalled US$2.07 billion last year, representing 23% of total revenue, according to its annual report. Of that total, US$829 million was unrestricted—money that is particularly valuable because it’s flexible.

“That funding is critical for us to be able to cover underfunded operations, emergencies or situations of armed conflict that are not in the headlines anymore,” says Carla Haddad Mardini, director of Unicef’s division of private fundraising and partnerships.

The International Council was formed in 2017 not only to boost private-sector donations, but to create a powerful group of individuals who could bring their knowledge, expertise, vision, and networks to the organisation, Haddad Mardini says.

“We don’t see them as donors, we see them as partners,” she says.

That’s because the council’s engagement with Unicef goes behind giving. “They support by opening their networks to us, thinking with us about the global problems that make children more vulnerable,” Haddad Mardini says. “It’s invaluable in terms of the advocacy that they do and the influence that they exert.”

The council, of course, also provides needed funding. Since it was formed, members—who give US$1 million when they join—have donated more than US$552 million.

This past year, the council brought on 15 new members, half from countries in the Southern Hemisphere, including India, Vietnam, Indonesia, and Mexico. The incoming chair is Muhammed Aziz Khan, founder and chairman of the Summit Group, a Bangladesh industrial conglomerate, whose foundation is focused on the education of vulnerable children in the country.

“We want this group to be as diverse as possible,” Haddad Mardini says. “They’re not there for their own visibility, they are there to really meaningfully and purposefully make a difference.”

Bernard Taylor, an arbitrator and mediator at Judicial Arbitration and Mediation ADR Services and a retired partner with Alston & Bird, an Atlanta-based international law firm, has been an active supporter of Unicef for years, joining its Southeast Regional Board in the U.S. in 2007. In 2018, he joined the council and this past summer, became chair of the organisation’s National Board.

One of Taylor’s earliest experiences with Unicef was a trip to Madagascar not long after the island in the southwest Indian Ocean off the coast of Africa had been hit by successive cyclones.

“It was really eye-opening from the standpoint of seeing the despair that so many people were living through and that the children were living through,” Taylor says. After returning home and taking his children on a trip to the local mall to buy supplies for a school project, he was overwhelmed by the abundance that surrounded them.

“Just a short plane ride away, people were living in despair and death—we had to do something about that, and what I saw was that Unicef was doing something about it,” he says. “That’s how I got involved and committed.”

Often, the council responds to emergencies such as the urgent need for global vaccine distribution during the pandemic. In 2022, the council raised US$3.2 million to support Unicef’s work in Afghanistan, and another US$5.5 million in response to the war in Ukraine.

But as Haddad Mardini says, the council also goes beyond check-writing.

“We are all focused on pulling together our resources, our expertise,

our networks,” Taylor says. “As a private philanthropy, we’re able to be nimble, to be fast and flexible in ways that can address the issues that Unicef is struggling with. As a council member, I’m able to utilise my influence with peers and business leaders and even governmental entities.”

Recently, he spoke with one of Georgia’s U.S. senators to inform him about Unicef’s activities and to get his support. “Maybe you would call us extenders of influence—we increase, substantially, the influence and the ability of Unicef to do its work.”

The experience of Taylor, O’Farrell and others as private sector executives can also be influential to the thinking of Unicef’s executives, Jones says.

“They’re bringing their private sector experience and what they’re seeing in their partnerships,” she says. “It’s a space where they feel comfortable being very open and candid. It’s a nice dialogue with leadership.”