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Critique of Central Banking
Part III-d: The lessons of the
US experience
By
Henry C K Liu
Part III-c: Still More on
the US Experience
Hyper-inflation is
destructive to the economy generally but it hurts wage earners more
because of wage stickiness and inelasticity, causing wages to fall
constantly behind the hyper-inflation rate. Hyper-inflation keeps
prices rising so fast that it tends to reduce the volume of business
transactions and to restrain economic activities. Hyper-inflation has
brought down many government throughout history, and thus
monetary-policy makers have developed a special sensitivity toward it.
For private business, loss of sales under hyper-inflation can sometimes
be temporarily compensated by inventory appreciation if the interest
rate is below the inflation rate, but under such conditions credit to
finance inventory would soon dry up.
Moderate inflation
benefits both the rich and the poor, though not equally, because it not
only keeps asset prices rising, of which the rich own more, it also
equalizes wealth distribution, making the rich less privileged.
Moderate inflation enables the middle class to raise its standard of
living faster through borrowing that can be paid back with depreciated
dollars, as most homeowners in the United States have done in recent
decades. Lenders would continue to lend under moderate inflation even
if real interest rates yield a narrower or even a slightly negative
spread over the inflation rate, because idle money would suffer more
loss under moderate inflation and because moderate inflation reduces
the default rate, thus making even a narrow spread between interest
rate and inflation rate profitable to lenders. Moderate inflation also
stimulates growth, which means a larger economic pie for all even if
the slice of the pie for lenders may be smaller. Moderate inflation
negates the fatalistic American folklore that the rich get richer and
the poor get poorer, and enables the American dream of social and
economic mobility.
Deflation increases the
purchasing power of money, but it puts upward pressure on unemployment
and downward pressure on aggregate income. Thus, given a choice between
deflation and hyper-inflation, owners of real assets tend to prefer
hyper-inflation, under which wage earners are forced to into lower real
wages after inflation. Policy makers always hope that hyper-inflation
can be brought back under control within a short period of crisis
management, before political damage sets in. Central banks in desperate
times would look to hyper-inflation to "provide what essentially
amounts to catastrophic financial insurance coverage," as US Federal
Reserve Board chairman Alan Greenspan suggested in a November 19
address on International Financial Risk Management to the Council on
Foreign Relations (CFR) in Washington.
Over the past two and a
half years, since February 2000, the draining impact of a loss of US$8
trillion of stock-market wealth (80 percent of gross domestic product,
or GDP), and of the financial losses associated with September 11,
2001, has had a highly destabilizing effect on the aggregate
debt-equity ratio in the US financial system, and has pushed the ratio
below levels conventionally required for sound finance. Total debt in
the US economy now runs to $32 trillion, of which $22 trillion is
private-sector debt. This private debt now is backed by $8 trillion
less in equity, an amount in excess of one-third of the debt. Greenspan
attributed the system's ability to sustain such a sudden rise of
debt-to-equity ratio to debt securitization and the hedging effect of
financial derivatives, which transfer risk throughout the entire
system. "Obviously, this market is still too new to have been tested in
a widespread down-cycle for credit," Greenspan allowed.
In recent years, the
rapidly growing use of more complex and less transparent instruments
such as credit-default swaps, collateralized debt obligations, and
credit-linked notes has had a net effect of transferring individual
risks to systemic risk. Greenspan acknowledged that derivatives, by
construction, are highly leveraged, a condition that is both a large
benefit and an Achilles' heel. It appears that the benefit has been
reaped in the past decade, leading to a wishful declaration of the end
of the business cycle. Now we are faced with the Achilles' heel: "the
possibility of a chain reaction, a cascading sequence of defaults that
will culminate in financial implosion if it proceeds unchecked. Only a
central bank, with its unlimited power to create money, can with a high
probability thwart such a process before it becomes destructive. Hence,
central banks have, of necessity, been drawn into becoming lenders of
last resort," explained Greenspan.
Greenspan asserted that
such "catastrophic financial insurance coverage" should be reserved for
only the rarest of occasions to avoid moral hazard. He observed
correctly that in competitive financial markets, the greater the
leverage, the higher must be the rate of return on the invested capital
before adjustment for higher risk. Yet there is no evidence that higher
risk in financial manipulation leads to higher return for investment in
the real economy, as recent defaults by Enron, Global Crossing,
WorldCom, Tyco, Conseco and sovereign Argentine credits have shown.
Higher risks in finance engineering merely provided higher returns from
speculation temporarily, until the day of reckoning, at which point the
high returns can suddenly turn in equally high losses.
The individual management
of risk, however sophisticated, does not eliminate risk in the system.
It merely passes on the risk to other parties for a fee. In any risk
play, the winners must match the losers by definition. The fact that a
systemic payment-default catastrophe has not yet surfaced only means
that the probability of its occurrence will increase with every passing
day. It is an iron law understood by every risk manager. By socializing
their risks and privatizing their speculative profits, risk speculators
hold hostage the general public, whose welfare the Fed now uses as a
pretext to justify printing money to perpetuate these speculators'
joyride. What kind of logic supports the Fed's acceptance of a natural
rate of unemployment to combat inflation while it prints money without
reserve to bail out private speculators to fight deflation created by a
speculative crash?
It has been forgotten by
many that before 1913, there was no central bank in the United States
to bail out troubled commercial or investment banks or to keep
inflation in check by trading employment for price stability. The House
of Morgan then held the power of deciding which banks should survive
and which ones should fail and, by extension, deciding which sector of
the economy should prosper and which should shrink. At least the House
of Morgan used private money for its predatory schemes of controlling
the money supply for its own narrow benefit. The issue of centralized
private banking was part of the Sectional Conflict of the 1800s between
America's industrial North and the agricultural South that eventually
led to the Civil War. The South opposed a centralized private banking
system that would be controlled by Northeastern financial interests,
protective tariffs to help struggling Northeast industries and federal
aid to transportation development for opening up the Midwest and the
West for investment intermediated through Northeastern money trusts.
Money, classical
economics' view of it notwithstanding, is not neutral. Money is a
political issue. It is a matter of deliberate choice made by the state.
The supply of money and its cost, as well as the allocation of credit,
have direct social implications. Policies on money reward or punish
different segments of the population, stimulate or restrain different
economic sectors and activities. They affect the distribution of
political power. Democracy itself depends on a populist money policy.
The concept of a Federal
Reserve System was first championed by Populists, who were ordinary
citizens, rather than sophisticated economists or captured politicians
or powerful bankers. In 1887, a group of desperate farmers in Lampasas
county, Texas, formed the Knights of Reliance to resist impending ruin
by "more speedily educating themselves" about the day when "all the
balance of labor's products become concentrated into the hands of a
few". It became the Farmers Alliance, which by 1890 had flowered into
the Populist Movement. The Populist agenda was a major reform platform
for more than five decades, giving the nation a progressive income tax,
federal regulation of railroads, communications and other public
utilities, anti-trust regimes, price stabilization and credit programs
for farmers. Lyndon B Johnson was the last president with strong
populist roots but tragically his populist domestic vision of the Great
Society was torpedoed by the Vietnam quagmire.
The core issue behind the
Populist Movement was money. Populists attacked the "money trusts", the
gold standard, and the private centralized banking system. The spirit
of this brief movement was captured by Lawrence Goodwyn in his book Democratic
Promise: The Populist Movement in America. Falling prices of farm
produce were the catalyst of protest. Falling prices were also
inevitably accompanied by usurious interest rates. Both flowed from one
condition: a scarcity of money. Most Americans today do not remember
what historians call the Great Deflation that lasted three decades
between 1866 and 1896. The Great Deflation worked in reverse of
inflation. Inflation puts the rich at a disadvantage and spreads wealth
more widely, allowing the middle class to grow and to enjoy higher
standards of living. Deflation reconcentrates wealth and reduces the
living standard of the middle and working classes. Borrowers face
ballooning nominal debts from falling prices and wages.
Fernand Braudel
(1902-1985) in his epic chronicle of the rise of capitalism showed that
cycles of price inflation and deflation were recurring rhythms in the
world's economies long before the founding of the United States. The
very discovery of America was a great inflationary development by the
increase of money supply in Europe through the plundering of Inca gold
mines. Gold inflation lasted three centuries and was instrumental to
the rise of Europe.
The US Federal Reserve
System was founded in 1913 presumably to represent the financial
interest of all Americans. In its obsessive phobia of inflation, the
Fed has betrayed its original mandate. The chairman of the Fed in a
true democracy should be a member of the common folks, supported by a
technically competent but ideologically neutral staff, not a Wall
Street economist who applauds "creative destruction" as a preferred
path for growth. Greenspan himself allowed the view of an European
leader in his November address: "What is the market? It is the law of
the jungle, the law of nature. And what is civilization? It is the
struggle against nature."
The creation of the
Federal Reserve System was the result of a confluence of political
pressures. Fundamental among these pressure was the new awareness, as
Braudel hinted, of a heretical proposition that capitalism cannot
sustain price stability through market forces. That proposition may not
be valid, but centuries of experimentation and innovation have yet to
devise a monetary system that can provide permanent market price
stability. It was increasingly recognized that the process of capital
accumulation inherently produces periodic cycles of fluctuating money
value: inflationary "easy money" stimulating economic growth, spreading
wealth from the top down, followed by its depressant opposite "tight
money" slowing down growth, reconcentrating wealth. Just as there is a
business cycle in a market economy, there is a monetary cycle in a
capitalistic system.
This peculiar nature of
capitalism was allowed to work untamed until the arrival of political
democracy. Any government adopting any money system that makes stable
money a permanent feature would eventually confront political upheaval.
There were no golden means of money value where all economic
participants could be treated equally and justly. Technically, the
rules of capitalism decree that money that is fixed in perpetual
equilibrium is a formula for permanent stagnation.
The tight money in the
United States at the beginning of the 20th century was caused by the
restoration of the full gold standard (the Gold Standard Act of 1900)
from the bimetallism that had been used in the US through much of the
19th century. Bimetallism had the fault of "bad money driving out good"
as stated in Gresham's Law, named after Sir Thomas Gresham (1619-79),
although it was controversial as to whether he in fact formulated the
concept. The law states that the metal that is commercially valued at
less than its face value tends to be used as money, and the metal that
is commercially valued at more than its face value tends to be used as
metal, and thus is withdrawn from circulation as money. It is an
indirect confirmation of the validity of fiat money, as all commodities
with intrinsic value would not be used as money given the option.
Permanent tight money
means permanent high interest rates. And the money supply based on the
gold standard after 1900 was inflexible for meeting the fluctuating
demands of the economy. The resultant illiquidity rendered the
financial system inoperative. The liquidity squeeze typically started
in the South and the West when farmers brought their crops to market
and traders and merchants needed short-term loans to finance a seasonal
ballooning of trade. Rural banks were forced to turn to New York for
additional funds. Country bankers and their farm clients learned from
experience that life-or-death decisions over the economies of Kansas,
Texas and Tennessee resided in the Wall Street offices of the likes of
J P Morgan. Thus the term "money trusts" was no radical sloganeering or
activist hysteria. It was a very mainstream term that everyone in the
West and the South understood in the 1900s.
The Populists first
proposed a solution to the money question in August 1886 at Cleburne,
Texas, where the Farmers Alliance held a convention. The "Cleburne
Demand" borrowed from the Greenback Party, which in the previous decade
had fought against the gold standard and defended president Abraham
Lincoln's fiat money, known as greenbacks, backed not by gold but by
government credit, on which the North won the Civil War. Among the
"radical" demands were federal regulation of the private banking system
and a national fiat currency not retrained by gold.
The Populists distrusted
both Wall Street and Washington and wanted an independent institution
to carry out this task. They were openly inflationist, and advocated an
expanding money supply to serve the growing economy and a federal issue
to replace all private banknotes. Their slogan, "legal tender for all
debts, public and private", appears today on Federal Reserve notes.
Orthodox economists of the day scoffed at the proposals. A return to a
populist monetary policy today would be a very constructive alternative
to Greenspan's distortion of Schumpeterean creative destructionism.
The Fed has always
considered it its sacred duty only to fight inflation. Still, there was
a time it forced on the economy the pains of fighting inflation only
after inflation had appeared, as then chairman Paul Volcker did in the
early 1980s. But the Greenspan Fed in the late 1990s was shadow-boxing
phantom inflation based on a theoretical anticipation of inflation from
the wealth effect of an equity-market bubble that was at least
producing a benefit of having unemployment trending below the so-called
natural rate. The Greenspan bubble was actually accompanied by pockets
of deflation, most visibly in the manufacturing and commodity sectors,
mostly caused by excess investment that led to global overcapacity that
fed low-priced imports to the US economy. Deflation has practically
destroyed the farming and several other commodity and basic-material
sectors in the past decade, including steel. It has eliminated much of
US manufacturing. The deflation that faced selected sectors of the US
economy in the past decade had not been market-induced as much as it
was policy-determined. The Fed's fixation on driving inflation lower,
regardless of economic consequences, has caused untold damage to the
economy and forced its restructuring toward an unsustainable debt
bubble.
It is an economic truism
that low inflation for a large, complex economy can only be achieved by
driving certain sectors into deflationary levels. Businesses in these
unfortunate sectors are held in a state of protracted if not perpetual
loss to face bankruptcy and liquidation. This detachment of profit from
real production and the dubious linkage of profit to financial
speculation and manipulation Greenspan accepts happily as Schumpeterean
"creative destruction" (from economist Joseph A Schumpeter, 1883-1950).
Pockets of deflation and bankruptcy are integral parts of systemwide
disinflation that inevitably produces losers who allegedly made wrong
business bets. It turned out that these wrong bets were not against
market forces as much as they were against Fed policy bias. The stable
value of money is to be maintained at all cost, except for speculative
growth, which is translated to mean ever-rising share prices. Rising
share prices, unlike rising wages, are not viewed by the Fed as
inflation, a rationale hard to understand.
But the negatives of
selective deflation are considered by the Fed as secondary and
acceptable systemwide. These losses at various deflationary phases have
included the farmer belt, the oil patch, the timber industry, the
mining sector, steel, the manufacturing sector, transportation,
communication, high technology and even defense. In 1984-85, deflation
had became a fundamental disorder in the economy. Income loss and
shrinking collateral squeezed debtors in deflationary sectors facing
fixed nominal levels of debt that required appreciated dollars to
repay. Raw-material prices fell by 40 percent from their peaks in 1980.
It was a repeat of the 1920s' selective economic damage. Overall prices
throughout the 1980s as reflected by the Consumer Price Index (CPI)
remained around 3 percent and the economy expanded moderately and
continuously. What actually happened was a structural shift of wealth
distribution toward polarization of rich and poor. A split-level
economy was instituted by government policy, between the favored and
the dispensable. In the 1880s and again the 1890s, similar developments
produced political agrarian revolts that historians call American
Populism.
In 1830, there were only
32 miles (51 kilometers) of railroads in the United States. By 1860, at
the start of the Civil War, there were more than 30,000 miles. The
three decades after the Civil War was called the Railroad Age by
historians, a period that saw a fivefold increase in rail mileage. The
rail sector dominated the investment market and was the chief source of
new wealth and baronial fortunes. The Age of Robber Barons, represented
by the likes of Cornelius Vanderbilt (railroads), Andrew Carnegie
(steel), John D Rockefeller (oil) and Morgan (finance), with the birth
of big monopolistic corporations and interlocking holding companies,
was inseparable from railroad expansion.
The private railroads
received free public land in amounts larger than the size of Texas. The
scandalous Credit Mobilier, which built the Union Pacific, paid a
dividend of 348 percent in one year to watered-down shares given to
corrupt members of Congress and state officials, a hundred times that
of convention, even after having billed the company double for runaway
construction cost. The price-fixing and selective price-gouging,
government corruption, stock and business fraud, cost-padding,
stock-watering and manipulation such as insider trading and sweetheart
loans of the Railroad Age made the so-called crony capitalism of which
the United States now accuses a developing Asia looks like child's play.
Notwithstanding the
disingenuous neo-liberal claim that the Asian financial crises of 1997
that devastated the economies in the region were the inevitable result
of Asian crony capitalism, and not of unregulated market
fundamentalism, the scandalous railroad boom of the 1860s in the United
States did not hurt the US economy. Far from it, it heralded in the age
of finance capitalism. The difference was that in the 1860s, the US
opposed free trade and adopted high protective tariffs, government
support of industrial policy and infrastructure development and
national banking. But most important of all, the US of the 1860s was
not victimized by the tyranny of a foreign-currency hegemony, as Asia
is today by dollar hegemony. Just as pimples are the symptoms of
hormone imbalance and not the cause, corruption is often the symptom of
fast growth.
The point here is not to
apologize for corruption but to point out that corruption is part and
partial of finance capitalism, as the savings and loan (S&L)
crisis, the Milken junk-bond scandal and Enrontitis of recent times
continue to show clearly. The real culprit was not corruption but
deregulation. The Telecommunications Act of 1996, for example, which
aimed to create competitive markets for voice, data and broadband
services, unleashed a flood of investment in wireless licenses,
fiber-optic cable networks, satellites, computer switches and Internet
sites, and accounted for much of the new capital that poured into the
economy through Wall Street's equity and credit markets. The same was
true in the energy sector. But the biggest culprit was financial
deregulation.
The deregulation program
under the administration of president Ronald Reagan phased out federal
requirements that set maximum interest rates on savings accounts. This
eliminated the advantage previously held by savings banks in financing
home ownership. Checking accounts that paid interest could now be
offered by savings banks. All depository institutions could now borrow
from the Fed in time of need, a privilege that had been reserved for
commercial banks. In return, all banks had to place a certain
percentage of their deposits at the Fed. This gave the Fed more control
over state chartered banks, but diluted the Fed's control of the credit
market. The Garn-St Germain Act of 1982 allowed savings banks to issue
credit cards, make non-residential real-estate loans and commercial
loans - actions previously only allowed to commercial banks.
Deregulation practically
eliminated the distinction between commercial and savings banks. It
caused a rapid growth of savings banks and S&Ls that now made all
types of non-homeowner-related loans. S&Ls could then tap into the
huge profit centers of commercial-real-estate investments and
credit-card issuing and unsavory entrepreneurs looked to the loosely
regulated S&Ls as a no-holds-barred profit center.
As the 1980s wore on, the
US economy appeared to grow. Interest rates continued to go up as well
as real-estate speculation. The real-estate market was in a bubble
boom. Many S&Ls took advantage of the lack of supervision and
regulations to make highly speculative investments, in many cases
lending more money then the value of the projects, in anticipation of
still-rising prices. When the real-estate market crashed dramatically,
the S&Ls were crushed. They now owned properties that they had paid
enormous amounts of money for but weren't worth a fraction of what they
paid. Many went bankrupt, losing their depositors' money. In 1980, the
US had 4,600 thrifts; by 1988, mergers and bankruptcies left 3,000. By
the mid-1990s, fewer than 2,000 survived. The S&L crisis cost US
taxpayers $600 billion in "bailouts". The indirect cost was estimated
to be $1.4 trillion.
Money supply is a complex
issue and at this moment in history it is a term of considerable
chaotic meaning. The official definition by the Federal Reserve of M1,
2 and 3 is clear (see note 1), but its usefulness even to the Fed is as
limited as it is clear. Greenspan, at the 15th Anniversary Conference
of the Center for Economic Policy Research at Stanford University on
September 5, 1997, with Milton Friedman in the audience, in defense of
the accusation that Fed policy failed to anticipate the emerging
inflation of the 1970s and, by fostering excessive monetary creation,
contributed to the inflationary upsurge, and the claim that some
monetary-policy rules, such as the Taylor rule, however imperfect,
would have delivered far superior performance, admitted that the Fed's
(indeed economics') knowledge of the full workings of the system is
quite limited, so that attempts to improve on the results of policy
rules will, on average, only make matters worse. Greenspan observed
that the monetary policy of the Fed has involved varying degrees of
rule-based and discretionary-based modes of operation over time. Very
often historical regularities have been disrupted by unanticipated
change, especially in technologies, both hard and soft. The evolving
patterns mean that the performance of the economy under any rule, were
it to be rigorously followed, would deviate from expectations. Such
changes mean that we can never construct a completely general model of
the economy, invariant through time, on which to base our policy,
Greenspan asserted. It was an apology for muddling through.
Greenspan admitted that
in the late 1970s, the Fed's actions to deal with developing
inflationary instabilities were shaped in part by the reality portrayed
by Friedman's analysis that ever-rising inflation rate peaks, as well
as ever-rising inflation rate troughs, followed on the heels of similar
patterns of average money growth. The Fed, in response to such
evaluations, acted aggressively under the then newly installed chairman
Paul Volcker. A considerable tightening of the average stance of
policy, based on intermediate M1 targets tied to reserve operating
objectives, eventually reversed the surge in inflation. Greenspan was
careful not to draw attention to the high cost of the reversal.
The 15 years before the
Asian financial crises that began in 1997 had been a period of
consolidating the gains of the early 1980s and extending them to their
logical end, ie, the achievement of price stability. Although the
ultimate goals of monetary policy have remained the same over the past
15 years, the techniques used by the Fed in formulating and
implementing policy have changed considerably as a consequence of vast
changes in technology and regulation. The early Volcker years focused
on M1, and following operating procedures that imparted a considerable
degree of automaticity to short-term interest-rate movements, resulting
in wide interest-rate volatility.
But after nationwide NOW
(negotiable order of withdrawal) interest-bearing checking accounts
were introduced, the demand for M1, in the judgment of the Federal Open
Markets Committee (FOMC), became too interest-sensitive for that
aggregate to be useful in implementing policy. Because the velocity of
such an aggregate varies substantially in response to small changes in
interest rates, target ranges for M1 growth, in the FOMC's judgment, no
longer were reliable guides for outcomes in nominal spending and
inflation. In response to an unanticipated movement in spending and
hence the quantity of money demanded, a small variation in interest
rates would be sufficient to bring money back to path but not to
correct the deviation in spending.
As a consequence, by late
1982, M1 was de-emphasized and policy decisions per force became more
discretionary. However, in recognition of the longer-run relationship
of prices and M2, especially its stable long-term velocity, this
broader aggregate was accorded more weight, along with a variety of
other indicators, in setting the Fed policy stance.
By the early 1990s, the
usefulness of M2 was undercut by the increased attractiveness and
availability of alternative outlets for saving, such as bond and stock
mutual funds, and by mounting financial difficulties for depositories
and depositors that led to a restructuring of business and household
balance sheets. The apparent result was a significant rise in the
velocity of M2, which was especially unusual given continuing declines
in short-term market interest rates. By 1993, this extraordinary
velocity behavior had become so pronounced that the Fed was forced to
begin disregarding the signals M2 was sending.
Greenspan recognized
that, in fixing on the short-term rate, the Fed lost much of the
information on the balance of money supply and demand that changing
market rates afforded, but for the moment the Fed saw no alternative.
In the current state of knowledge, money demand has become too
difficult to predict. In the United States, evaluating the effects on
the economy of shifts in balance sheets and variations in asset prices
have been an integral part of the development of monetary policy.
In recent years, for
example, the Fed expended considerable effort to understand the
implications of changes in household balance sheets in the form of high
and rising consumer debt burdens and increases in market wealth from
the run-up in the stock market. And the equity market itself has been
the subject of analysis as the Fed attempted to assess the implications
for financial and economic stability of the extraordinary rise in
equity prices, a rise based apparently on continuing upward revisions
in estimates of US corporations' already robust long-term earning
prospects. But, unless they are moving together, prices of assets and
of goods and services could not both be an objective of a particular
monetary policy, which, after all, has one effective instrument: the
short-term interest rate. The Fed chose product prices as its primary
focus on the grounds that stability in the average level of these
prices was likely to be consistent with financial stability as well as
maximum sustainable growth. History, however, is somewhat ambiguous on
the issue of whether central banks can safely ignore asset markets,
except as they affect product prices. Greenspan discovered that he had
been very wrong about the "robust" long-term earning prospects of US
corporations by 2000.
Greenspan also admitted
that over the coming decades, moreover, what constitutes product price
and, hence, price stability will itself become harder to measure. In
the years 1997 through 2000, M3 increased by about 460, 600, 500 and
600 billions per year, respectively. In 2001 M3 expanded much more
rapidly - by about $1.1 trillion - to a total of about $8 trillion. The
surge in the money supply since the attacks on September 11, 2001, was
equal to about $300 billion, which significantly represents about 3.0
percent of GDP, this after the Fed injected $1 trillion into the
banking system in the days following the terrorist attacks in New York
and on the Pentagon. Since the beginning of 2000, $8 trillion of stock
market wealth has vanished, that is 80 percent of annual GDP, or the
entire M3 in 2001. Another way to look at these figures is that the
entire face value of the US money supply has vanished through market
correction.
Market participants look
at money supply differently. To M1, 2 and 3, they add L, which is M3
plus all other liquid assets, such as Treasury bills, saving bonds,
commercial paper, bankers' acceptances, non-bank eurodollar holdings of
non-US residents and, since the 1990s, derivatives and swaps, generally
coming under the heading of structured finance instruments. The term
MZM (money with zero maturity) came into general use. The Fed has poor,
if any, information on L and it does not seem to want to know as it
persistently declines to support its regulation or reporting on it.
Over-the-counter (OTC) derivatives now are estimated to involve
notional values of more than $150 trillion. No one knows the precise
amount.
The Office of Controller
of Currency (OCC) quarterly report on bank derivatives activities and
trading revenues is based on call-report information provided by US
commercial banks. The notional amount of derivatives in insured
commercial bank portfolios increased by $3.1 trillion in the third
quarter of 2002, to $53.2 trillion. Generally, changes in notional
volumes are reasonable reflections of business activity but do not
provide useful measures of risk. During the third quarter, the notional
amount of interest-rate contracts increased by $3 trillion, to $45.7
trillion. Foreign-exchange contracts increased by $27 billion to $5.8
trillion. The number of commercial banks holding derivatives increased
by 17, to 408. Eighty-six percent of the notional amount of derivative
positions was composed of interest-rate contracts, with foreign
exchange accounting for an additional 11 percent. Equity, commodity and
credit derivatives accounted for only 3 percent of the total notional
amount.
Holdings of derivatives
continue to be concentrated in the largest banks. Seven commercial
banks account for almost 96 percent of the total notional amount of
derivatives in the commercial banking system, with more than 99 percent
held by the top 25 banks. OTC and exchange-traded contracts comprised
87.9 percent and 12.1 percent, respectively, of the notional holdings
as of the third quarter of 2002.
The notional amount is a
reference amount from which contractual payments will be derived, but
it is generally not an amount at risk. The risk in a derivative
contract is a function of a number of variables, such as whether
counterparties exchange notional principal, the volatility of the
currencies or interest rates used as the basis for determining contract
payments, the maturity and liquidity of contracts, and the
creditworthiness of the counterparties in the transaction. Further, the
degree of increase or decrease in risk-taking must be considered in the
context of a bank's aggregate trading positions as well as its asset
and liability structure. Data describing fair values and credit risk
exposures are more useful for analyzing point-in-time risk exposure,
while data on trading revenues and contractual maturities provide more
meaningful information on trends in risk exposure.
Monetary economists have
no idea if notional values are part of the money supply and with what
discount ratio. As we now know, creative accounting has legally
transformed debt proceeds as revenue. With the telecoms, the
Indefeasible Right of Use (IRU) contracts, or capacity swaps, were
perfectly legal means to inflate revenue. The now disgraced and defunct
Andersen White Paper in 2000, well known in telecom financial circles,
defined IRU swaps between telecom carriers by accounting each sale as
revenue and each purchase of a capital expense which is exempted from
operating results emphasized by Wall Street analysts and investors.
While common sense would see this as inflation of revenue by hiding
underlying true cost, Andersen argued that these capacity exchanges are
not barter agreements, but are sales of operating leases and purchases
of capital leases. Thus by creative accounting logic, swaps are not
acquisition of "equivalent interests" because risks and rewards of
buying a capital lease are greater than those of an operating lease.
Since operating leases are not similar assets as capital leases, there
is logic in booking revenues over the life of a contract when they are
fully paid at closing. It can also be argued that such accounting logic
on the operating leases misleadingly strengthens the value of the
capital assets. Which was exactly what happened.
GE Capital on March 13,
2002, launched a multi-tranche dollar bond deal that was almost doubled
in size from $6 billion to $11 billion, making it the largest-ever
dollar-denominated corporate bond issue. Officially the bond sale was
explained as following the current trend of companies with large
borrowing needs, such as GE Capital, locking in favorable funding costs
while interest rates are low. On March 18, Bloomberg reported that GE
Capital was bowing to demands from Moody's Investors Service that the
biggest seller of commercial paper should reduce its reliance on
short-term debt securities. The financing arm of General Electric, then
the world's largest company, sought bigger lending commitments from
banks and replacing some of its $100 billion in debt that would mature
in less than nine months with bonds. GE Capital asked its banks to
raise its borrowing capacity to $50 billion from $33 billion.
Moody's, one of two
credit-rating companies that have assigned GE Capital the highest "AAA"
grade, has been increasing pressure on even top-rated firms to reduce
short-term liabilities since Enron filed the biggest US bankruptcy to
that date in December. Moody's released reports analyzing the ability
of 300 companies to raise money should they be shut out of the
commercial paper market. GE Capital and H J Heinz Co said they
responded to inquiries by Moody's by reducing their short-term debt,
unsecured obligations used for day-to-day financing. Concerns about the
availability of such funds have grown this year after Qwest
Communications International Inc, Sprint Corp and Tyco International
Ltd were suddenly unable to sell commercial paper.
Moody's lowered a record
93 commercial paper ratings last year as the economy slowed, causing
corporate defaults to increase to their highest in a decade. One area
of concern for the analysts is the amount of bank credit available to
repay commercial paper. While many companies have credit lines
equivalent to the amount of commercial paper they sell, some of the
biggest issuers do not. GE Capital, for example, has loan commitments
backing 33 percent of its short-term debt. American Express has
commitments that cover 56 percent of its commercial paper. Coca-Cola
supports about 85 percent of its debt with bank agreements, according
to Standard & Poor's, the largest credit-rating company, which said
it is also focusing more attention on risks posed by short-term
liabilities, though it hasn't yet decided whether to issue separate
reports.
Companies have sold $107
billion of investment-grade bonds in the first half of this year, up
from $88 billion during the same period in 2001. The amount of
unsecured commercial paper outstanding has fallen by a third to $672
billion during the past 12 months. GE Capital, which has reduced its
commercial paper outstanding from $117 billion at the beginning of the
year, plans to continue to reduce short-term debt. It took one step in
that direction last week when it sold $11 billion of long-term bonds,
some of which will be used to reduce its outstanding commercial paper.
As part of the sale, GE Capital sold 30-year bonds with a coupon of
6.75 percent. The company usually swaps some or all of those fixed-rate
payments for floating-rate obligations. Last year, GE Capital paid on
average 3.23 percent for its floating-rate, long-term debt, 70 basis
points more than on its commercial paper, according to a company filing.
The bottom line of all
this is that the funding cost of GE Capital will go up, which will hit
GE Capital profit, which constitutes 60 percent of its parent's profit.
This in turn will hit GE share prices, which in turn will force rating
agencies to pressure GE further to shift from low-cost commercial
papers to bonds or bank loans, which will further reduce profit, which
will further increase rating pressure, and so on. PIMCO (Pacific
Investment Management Co), the world's largest bond fund, having dumped
$1 billion in GE commercial paper from its holdings, publicly
criticized GE for carrying too much debt and not dealing honestly with
investors. GE announced it might sell as much as $50 billion in bonds
only days after investors bought $11 billion of new bonds in the
biggest US sale in history. PIMCO director Bill Gross disputed GE's
contention that the new bond sales were designed not to capture low
rates, but because of troubles in its commercial paper market. If the
GE short-term rate rises because of a poor credit rating, the engine
that drives GE earnings will stall. Gross dismissed GE earning growth
as not being from brilliant management, former GE chairman Jack Welch's
self-aggrandizing books not withstanding, but from financial
manipulation, selling debt at cheap rates and using inflated GE stocks
for acquisition. GE had $127 billion in commercial paper as of March
11, 2002, according to Moody's. This amounts to 49 percent of its total
debt. Banks' credit line only covers one-third of the short-term
exposure.
The erosion of market
capitalization value does impact money supply. Asset valuation is the
collateral for debt. As asset value falls, credit ratings fall, which
affect interest costs, which affect profits, which affect asset value.
Moreover, a major counterparty default in structured finance will
render the Fed helpless in keeping the money supply from sudden
contraction, unless the Fed is prepared to depart from its traditional
practice of relying solely on interest-rate policy to effectuate
monetary ease, a move Greenspan apparently has served notice he is
prepared to make.
The logic of fighting
inflation by raising interest rates is mere conventional wisdom.
Furthermore, interest-rate policy is merely a single instrument that
cannot possibly be relied upon to play the complexity of a symphony
like the economy. The debate on whether a high interest rate is
inflationary or deflationary seems to be a puzzling controversy in
economics. Within the current international financial architecture,
interest rates cannot be fully understood without taking into account
their impact on exchange rates and credit markets. Nor can inflation be
understood in isolation.
In a globalized financial
market, if the exchange rate is artificially sustained by high interest
rates, there is little doubt that the impact would be deflationary on
the local economy. This logic is also supported by empirical data in
recent years. Yet many astute economists insist that a high interest
rate causes inflation, at least in the long run. Perhaps this can be
true in closed economies, but it is no longer necessarily true in open
economies in a globalized financial market.
Interest rates are the
prices for the use of money over time. These prices do not always track
the purchasing power of money, which is the monetized expression of the
market value of commodities (the transaction price) at a specific time.
The purchasing power of money fluctuates over time, expressed by the
prices of futures and options, which are functions of the uncertain
elasticity between interest rates and inflation rates.
As the price for the use
of money over time rises, the general effect will be deflationary if
money is viewed as a constant store of value. Otherwise, money will
forfeit its function as a constant store of value. On the other hand,
if money is viewed as a medium of exchange, the ultimate liquidity
agent, then rising price for its use over time is inflationary as a
cost.
Now, in any economy,
money tends to play both roles, though not equally and not consistently
over time. For market participants, depending on their positions
(borrower or lender) at specific points of the economic cycle
(expanding or contracting liquidity), they will find different views of
money (exchange medium or value storer) to be to their financial
advantage. Thus borrowers generally consider a high interest rate as
leading to cost inflation (bad), and lenders consider a high interest
rate as leading to asset deflation (good up to a point). Asset
deflation offers good buying opportunities for those who have money or
have access to credit, but bad for those who hold assets but need
money, and the pain is proportional to asset illiquidity. Since most
holders of ready cash also hold assets, deflation has only a limited
and short-term advantage for them. For inflation to be advantageous,
continued expansion of credit is required to keep asset appreciation
ahead of cost inflation.
The problem is further
complicated by the fact that inflation is defined mostly by mainstream
economics only as the rising price of wages and commodities, and not by
asset appreciation. When it costs 10 percent more to buy the same share
of a company than it did yesterday, that is considered growth - good
economic news. When wages rise 5 percent a year, that is viewed as |