The Crash of 2008 was a problem for libertarians. They believe in a self-regulating system of private markets, and by all appearances, in 2008, those things failed to prevent a painful disaster. Also, libertarians are against bailouts. What, then? After the crash on Wall Street and the votes in Congress over bailouts, the first words I heard from libertarians was a denial that there was any real crisis at all, or that it was that bad. But it WAS that bad.

         I have four articles here, one on the bailout and three on explaining the disaster. Begin with the first, a short piece I wrote in October 2008 that appeared in Liberty in December 2008.

The Bailout of 2008

 

         The libertarian thought about bailouts is to be against them. Investors ought to absorb the losses from their bad decisions. That is what the ideology says, and in most times there is no question about it. It is a good principle.

         Then there are emergencies. They come perhaps once in a lifetime, and they raise the price of principle very high. Here is the view of JMD, a blogger at reason.com:

         “I made NO bad decisions. But my home value and retirement account are being wiped out cuz these a******* destroyed capitalism by figuring out how to pass on their risk to everyone else in the world… I’ll be damned if I’m gonna watch my entire net worth disappear just to save a f****** theory.”

         You can argue that JMD did make bad decisions — he bought the house and retirement investments that now irritate him — but it is a tautological argument, a kind of ontological argument. It has no fuel.

         The emergency broke in September 2008. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac collapsed, Lehman Brothers collapsed, American International Group collapsed, Washington Mutual collapsed and Wachovia essentially did. Silent runs drained Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs and the money market funds, and a Putnam institutional fund briefly fell to 97 cents a share, scaring the Federal Reserve into guaranteeing all money-market funds.

         Across the Atlantic, European governments bailed out the largest bank in Belgium, the second-largest property lender in Germany, the third-largest bank in Iceland and a mortgage company in Britain. Ireland guaranteed all bank deposits.

         Big institutions were being shunned by other institutions afraid to touch them — ostracized, unofficially quarantined. A market system may do that — there is freedom of association among corporations — but in this case if Fan and Fred and AIG and WaMu and all these European lenders fell, then their securities would become infected as well, and bring disease to the healthy.

         This was not an ordinary economic sickness. It was a financial ebola, a plague of fear that could infect and kill a century-old institution within 48 hours. A theoretician might apply the normal rule: “Let the chips fall where they may.” But they were not chips and the people with actual responsibility were not going to do that. The one big place where they did it — with Lehman — convinced them not to do it again. Lehman had helped drag down AIG, as well as the Hypo Bank in Germany.

         The question for libertarians was: if panic could be stopped through government application of public credit, why not do it? To quote JMD, would you watch your entire net worth disappear, just to save a theory?

         JMD’s comments were appended to a Reason feature about the crisis. On Sept. 25, 2008, the magazine asked ten economic thinkers, at George Mason, Harvard, Duke, NYU, libertarian institutes, and in the press and blogosphere, the same set of questions, starting: How bad is the current market situation?”

         Five said it was bad, very bad, “standing on a knife’s edge.” The others said in various ways that it was not so obviously bad. Two said they didn’t know. Chris Dillow, economic writer at Investor’s Chronicle, said, referring to the late Chicago economist Frank Knight:

         “No one knows! Our problem is one of Knightian uncertainty; we just don’t know (and banks themselves don’t know) what those illiquid mortgage derivatives are worth.”

         Dillow’s answer was about balance sheets — about how much certain mortgage-backed securities will really pay. It was a risk question, about the future, and maybe he was right that no one knew. Reason’s question was different. It was about market conditions, such as whether you can put certain mortgage-backed securities for sale and get any bids on them. It was a sentiment question, about the present. There you could know, and it did seem that things were on a knife-edge. The collapses said so. Henry Paulson’s behavior said so.

         Now, to the “bailout.”

         It is a loaded word. A bailout has come to mean a government act to make good the losses of big institutions. It is, on its face, an unfair thing, because some are bailed out and others pay for the bailout. It is the socialization of loss. 

         Do nothing, then? That was the libertarian consensus. But the supposed do-nothing option is not without government. When Lehman Brothers was allowed to fail, what happened? Lehman filed for protection under the federal bankruptcy law, which puts a judge in charge of it. That is government involvement. It is not the same kind as a taxpayer bailout, and is generally preferable, but it is not the absence of government.

         If putting big financial companies in bankruptcy causes unacceptable losses to third parties, maybe there is something wrong with bankruptcy as applied to big financial companies. The law is a human construct. It can be changed. When Treasury Secretary Paulson talked about a “conservancy” for Fan and Fred, with them growing for a time and then radically shrinking, it sounded like a variant of bankruptcy, not a bailout as such. Fan and Fred were taken over. So was AIG. Selling off the assets of AIG in an orderly manner also sounded like a bankruptcy.

         What is not available under ordinary bankruptcy, of course, is public credit. That is what the FDIC had when it seized Washington Mutual and sold off its branch network and portfolio to JP Morgan Chase. WaMu’s funders (including depositors) were protected, but its shareholders were not. The stock, which had been above $41 two years earlier, plunged to 11 cents. In none of the big failures were the shareholders any more than minimally “bailed out,” though bondholders did better.

         The Treasury’s $700 billion fund for buying “toxic assets” is troublesome. Opponents made it sound very much like free day at the dump — bring in your old mattresses and computer monitors and give ’em to us — but it, too, might be more reasonable than that. The Treasury could pay what these securities would fetch in a normal market. Not cost. Not a puffed-up value, but a kind of objective value, an estimated normal-market value as distinguished from value during a panic. The Treasury would hold the securities until the market calmed down, and then collect on their real value. The net cost to the public would likely be far less than $700 billion. The public liability — and the state power — would be temporary. 

         That’s what the Treasury’s sales pitch sounded like. Whether they’ll do it that way is another matter. And it is not the only possible rescue. Given that the financial problem is an impairment of capital, another rescue would be an injection of new capital, as the European governments had done, perhaps also with a “haircut” for creditors. I don’t know what’s best: there are hazards in not acting and hazards in acting. The hazards identified by libertarian opponents include some very real ones. But if there is a way to use public credit to keep the system from seizing up in a panic and having financial institutions around the world go down in a heap, then I swallow hard and consider supporting it, still not liking it.  As with JMD, I don’t want all my savings wiped out for a theory.

         I note that this was all happening six weeks before a presidential election in which the frontrunner was an admirer of Franklin Roosevelt. That raises another concern. I don’t want capitalism in ruins in the first hundred days of a president who wants to re-do the New Deal. One of those was enough.

 

         I knew that would fetch some libertarians, and it did. One was an old college roommate who I had talked with on Oct. 25. He had argued then that there was no crisis, citing the fact that his credit and debit cards still worked, and that life was going on around him. He thought the crisis had been cooked up in order to get the bailouts. Ah, I thought, a conspiracy theory.

         He wrote a letter to Liberty that was published in March 2009. What fetched him was the statement I quoted, “I don’t want all my savings wiped out…just to save a theory.” Speaking of theories, my old roommate — an engineer — replied:

         “In the physical sciences and engineering, we commonly use them to design machines and process upon which people depend for their lives. We utilize Bernoulli’s theory, for example, to sustain an airplane in flight. Economics is less scientific, but supposedly the theory of the free market gives us the most realistic and therefore the most accurate understanding of how markets work, and of the consequences of market interference.”

         He said I was embracing a new theory, Keynesianism. I didn’t think so. I just thought I was being realistic.

         The events of 2008 remain a problem for libertarians. Alan Greenspan was challenged on it, and famously admitted that a belief he’d held was wrong. That doesn’t mean libertarians have to junk their whole doctrine, but they have to admit that sometimes the financial industry can cook up a meal that poisons it. And they have to think about how to keep that from happening again.

 

         In the following piece I contrast the Austro-libertarian explanation of the crash of 2008 with a book by two journalists — and come down mostly on the side of the journalists. My double review was published in the August 2009 Liberty.

 

Tracing Blame

 

         Our economic disaster: Last summer I was reading about it in Paul Muolo and Matthew Padilla’s Chain of Blame: How Wall Street Caused the Mortgage and Credit Crisis (Wiley, 2008). In February my nose was in Thomas E. Woods’ Meltdown: A Free-Market Look at Why the Stock Market Collapsed, the Economy Tanked, and Government Bailouts Will Make Things Worse (Regnery, 2009). The two tales are very different. Muolo and Padilla’s “chain of blame” runs through Wall Street. Woods blames the government.

         Consider the authors. Woods is a professional libertarian. He works for the Ludwig von Mises Institute and is author of several libertarian or Christian books, including “The Politically Incorrect Guide to American History.” Muolo is from the trade press, having covered Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and the subprime lenders for National Mortgage News. Padilla wrote for the Orange County Register. The Register has a libertarian editorial page, but Padilla was on the business page and covered the subprime lenders because they were based in the Register’s circulation area, just south of Los Angeles.

         Chain of Blame is a business story. It’s journalism about people and their business creations: Angelo Mozilo of Countrywide Finance, Roland Arnall of Long Beach Mortgage, and Lewis Ranieri, who at Salomon Brothers invented the mortgage-backed security. The authors know these men and describe them. They trace the genealogy of the collateralized debt obligation and the sub-prime mortgage, the zero-option adjustable-rate mortgage and the “liar loan” — all the stuff that became “toxic assets.”

         Most of the book is descriptive. Muolo and Padilla are saying to the reader, “This is what was going on.” If they had put it on a diagram, the boxes might have been labeled, “mortgage borrower,” “mortgage originator,” “mortgage wholesaler,” “mortgage securitizer,” “security rating service,” and “security buyers.” All of these were in the private sector.

         Muolo and Padilla argue that blame should be placed where the planning was and where intelligence and foresight should have been. That was in the Wall Street investment houses. They invented the new securities and made them inscrutable to analysts. In the same vein, one might condemn the rating agencies, which pretended to evaluate them rationally, and such institutions as the insurance conglomerates AIG and ING, which pretended to understand what they were buying.

           In Muolo and Padilla’s mental diagram of all this, the Federal Reserve’s cheap-money policy of 2003-2004 is there, but it’s off on the edge. It’s a background condition, not an active cause. 

         Now come to Woods’ book. He states his thesis on page 13:

         “Blaming ‘greedy lenders’ or even foolish borrowers for what happened merely begs the question. What institutional factors gave rise to all the foolish lending and borrowing in the first place? Why did the banks have so much money available to lend in the mortgage market—so much that they could throw it even at applicants who lacked jobs, income, down payment money and good credit? These phenomena, as well as the housing bubble and the economic crisis more generally, are consistently traceable to government intervention in the economy.”

         In Woods’ view, the background condition is what’s important. Woods implicitly excuses everyone in Muolo and Padilla’s “chain of blame.” He doesn’t say he excuses them; he just doesn’t focus on them. His implicit view is that if private-sector lenders are throwing money at applicants with no income, it’s Alan Greenspan’s fault because Greenspan has lowered short-term interest rates to 1 percent. 

         This is putting ideology before eyeballing. We have a theory, we find some facts that plug into our theory, and voila! Our theory is good. We are good. And maybe our theory does bring explanatory order to some of the facts. The Fed did lower short rates to 1 percent, setting up a background condition for a mess. Congress did create Fannie and Freddie, pass the Community Reinvestment Act, and press bankers to make more loans to minorities, just as Woods says. He can legitimately trace a line to these things. But when he says that “the housing bubble and the economic crisis more generally, are consistently traceable to government intervention in the economy,” he is saying more.

         Think again of a diagram with lines and boxes.  Woods is putting government at the center of it—and portraying those who put lenders at the center as leftists railing against “greed.” This is a straw man. The mainstream financial press, of which Muolo and Padilla are a part, is not leftist.

         Woods habitually puts the private sector into the kind of phrases in which things just happen or become. Consider this, from page 21:

         “Although the driving force behind abandoning traditional lending standards was the federal government’s political goal of increasing homeownership, particularly among preferred minority groups, lending innovations like 100 percent loans became institutionalized features of the industry, particularly when the Fed had made banks flush with reserves to lend.”

          I am biased: I was a stockholder in one of the largest banks that failed. Unknown to me (because I wasn’t paying attention), my bank made bad loans–tens of billions worth of such grotesqueries as the zero-option ARM, a home loan in which the principal amount increases in the first five years. The CEO of my bank decided to make that kind of loan. The government didn’t order him to do it. Other CEOs didn’t do it. He did. His motivation was not to suck up to ACORN or the Federal Reserve Board. He was trying to make his bank big and successful. He knew he was violating the traditional rules of lending, but he had a theory of why he could do that, and his theory worked for a while. His bank did become big and successful. Then it was ruined — and so was I, in regard to my investment in it.

         All that is the government’s fault? Woods seems to think it is. His very language excuses. Consider the paragraph quoted above. The government was the “driving force” behind the irresponsibility of bankers. The Fed “made banks” have too much money. Hundred-percent mortgages “became institutionalized.”

         Mortgages became?

         I do not excuse the central bankers. One-percent money is high-proof stuff. The Austrian economists (libertarians) are right about that. Now, under President Obama, one-percent money is back again, and if the Fed keeps the bottle on the bar too long, eventually there will be another bacchanal. It probably won’t be in home mortgages, though. It will be in a different thing with different people making different mistakes. These differences will be important — economically important and also morally important, when it comes time to assign blame. Not all mistakes are government mistakes.

         I have another bias. Though my views are generally libertarian and I am writing here for a libertarian magazine, I make my living in mainstream journalism. For almost 20 years I was a business reporter for a daily newspaper — the job Matthew Padilla had when he was working on Chain of Blame. Done right, newspaper reporting is a facts-first job, not an ideology-first job. You have to have some theory, of course, to know what facts to look for, but it’s fairly basic. There are few decisions of high doctrine to make when you’re telling of the rise and fall of a loan company. 

         Muolo and Padilla focus their book on the mortgage lenders because that was the story of their daily journalism. One imagines that one of them said to the other, “You know, this would make a good book.” That approach helps Chain of Blame considerably, and also biases it.  When I imagine the best possible book about the Crash of ’08, it has more about the Fed in it, and more about Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. It also has more about the people who bought the securitized mortgages — what was the matter with the people at AIG, anyway? But my ideal book would be like Muolo and Padilla’s book. It would not be like Woods’s book.

         The story of the Crash of ’08 cannot absolve players in the private sector, as so many defenders of the market do. Consider a final example: the rating agencies. These companies repeatedly stamped investment-grade OKs on products later discovered to be lethal. In my view, the raters should be condemned. Shunned. Tarred, feathered, and rolled in oyster shells, along with the CEO of the bank I had stock in. 

         In his book Woods gives the rating agencies two and a half paragraphs. There he quotes an assistant professor of economics from a college I’d never heard of — a libertarian who wrote his doctoral thesis on lynching and property rights — saying that the bond raters were just trying to please the Securities and Exchange Commission. The idea is that the SEC represents the interests of the liberal, ACORN-infected politicians who want mortgages for all. Then Woods says that the private rating agencies are “an SEC-created cartel,” with the unstated but obvious-to-a-libertarian implication that no defender of the private sector is obliged to defend themProblem solved! Everything that is bad is once again “consistently traceable to government intervention.”

         It is possible to trace — and think what that means — every economic problem to government, if that is what you set out to do. But if you want an accurate explanation — an honest accounting of which causes are contributory, which are necessary and which, if any, are sufficient, you don’t set out with a predisposition to trace everything to one source. You immerse yourself in the facts, see what the connections are, and let the story itself tell you what the explanation is. This is what Muolo and Padilla try to do, and to a great extent, succeed in doing. It is what many libertarians ought to learn how to do.

 

         The Mises folks were pretty sore about this review. Thomas DiLorenzo of the Austro-libertarian Ludwig von Mises Institute wrote on the Mises Blog, July 16, 2009, that my criticism of his colleague’s book was “pure nonsense from the perspective of real libertarians,” and that my argument to focus on “facts” (his quotation marks) “is exactly the mode of analysis that statist enemies of economic freedom have employed for more than 150 years.”

 

Jeff Friedman, editor of Critical Review, sent me a note saying he liked my previous piece — and inviting me to review a special issue of his magazine on the crisis, Volume 21, Nos. 2 and 3, 2009. My review was printed in Liberty, November 2009.

 

Critical Decisions

 

The Great Recession has not been a good time for libertarians. The Left crows that the market has failed.  Deregulation failed. The great libertarian Alan Greenspan, who could not see a bubble until it popped in his face, admitted error. Feeling the sting of derision, libertarians have turned to their own theories, aiming for an exit door labeled “Not the Market.”

 Libertarian economists of the Austrian school, who have some wisdom about recessions, reassure us. For the purest Austrians the cause is never the market, because their theory of the market doesn’t have any recessions in it. Their theory is that investors are misled by the central bank, which misprices credit, making it too cheap, and that they rationally overinvest and create a boom. The implication is that if there were no mispricing of credit, there would be no boom, and therefore no bust.

 And yet we have had booms and recessions, and have been having them for 200 years, whether we had a central bank or not.

 That the Austrian theory has its finger on one of the causes is certainly true this time. But the history of markets, and of economic enthusiasms, belies the idea that the causal agent is always the central bank. Enthusiasms begin in the mind of man. They become fads, and they may affect lenders as well as borrowers, whether credit is mispriced or not. Capitalism has its ups and downs because capitalism allows people to make their own decisions, and people are prone to move in herds.

Market analyst and historian James Grant said it well in The Trouble with Prosperity (1996):

“Cycles in markets are inevitable, irrepressible, and indispensable. Even if some all-knowing central bank could create a state of economic perfection — measuring out growth in ideal, non-inflationary doses, neither too much nor too little — human beings would respond by overpaying for stocks and bonds. In this way they would restore imperfection.”       

Grant, who makes his living writing about the credit markets, wrote that book during “the great moderation,” the Volcker-Greenspan period of the 80s and 90s, in which upturns were extraordinarily long and downturns mild and short. His book was a warning that the financial firmament was still subject to earthquake. He was right. Crises are part of capitalism. But their details differ and require specific explanations. Particularly the recent one. 

 

 

  Jeffrey Friedman has a theory about the causes of the Crash of 2008. Friedman is an academic in political science, and an unusual one. He is a free-market supporter who bases his libertarianism on an argument from human ignorance and the inherent limitations of democratic rule. He rejects natural-rights theory — he has gone to lengths to poke holes in it — but he ends up in much the same place as the folks with whom he argues. For libertarians, that makes him an interesting guy.

He is not an economist, economic historian, or financial-market participant. As editor of the journal Critical Review, he is in the position of letting others analyze the financial world and judging their work.  In the latest, a 272-page issue, he offers 11 essays by 21 authors, most of them professors or graduate students of economics or business and finance. They are from small colleges and big universities, including Stanford, MIT, NYU, and Columbia. Some are from Europe; one is from the National Bank of Poland. They point the finger of blame at the Fed’s monetary policy, the Basel accords, deregulation, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the Community Reinvestment Act, credit rating agencies, and executive bonuses. An essay on credit default swaps points the finger away from them.

 

In his own essay, Friedman says his contributors’ explanations “can, in the main, be fit into a larger mosaic with hardly any friction between the pieces.” He is being diplomatic here. He is quite discriminating in the pieces he chooses for his mosaic. He takes a good deal more from NYU professors Viral Acharya and Matthew Richardson, who hang their theory on the Basel accords, than from Columbia University Professor Joseph Stiglitz, who blames deregulation and the Republicans. Friedman may be no expert on finance, but he is an expert at argument, and as editor of Critical Review he is in a position to make the most of that ability.

What crashed in 2008, Friedman says, was a system of regulated capitalism. The question he wants to reach “is whether it was the capitalism or the regulations that were primarily responsible.” I wouldn’t frame the question in quite that way. When I hear the word, “responsible,” I think of people, not systems. I would say the responsibility for the failure of Lehman Brothers lies in the people who ran it. Still, capitalism is a system of rules. Most of the rules have been written by the government, some with the support, some with the acquiescence, and some with the opposition of capitalists. In either case, if they protect irresponsible behavior, or, especially, if they encourage it, there is a systemic problem. This is what Friedman is after.

The story of the crash starts with the bubble in mortgages. The bubble was created by lenders lowering their standards. By 2006 the average sub-prime loan (i.e., a loan to a borrower with weak credit) required just 5 percent down. Lenders also eased up on qualifying terms: in many cases they stopped verifying the borrower’s income.  A gardener could buy an $800,000 house if he claimed to own a golf course. At the same time, 30-year mortgage rates fell to 5.25 percent, the lowest in more than 50 years. People had never seen such a deal in all their lives, and they responded. They created a bubble in house prices.

 Also, by 2006 more than 90 percent of all sub-prime mortgages were adjustable-rate. Washington Mutual offered the “1 Percent Option Adjustable Rate Mortgage,” which allowed a buyer to pay a 1 percent rate for the first five years, while an internal interest rate allowed the amount that was owed to keep piling up. At the fifth year, the loan reset, with a new, higher loan amount and a market rate of interest. This was a gambler’s product. I’ve heard it blamed for much of the bubble in Southern California.     

A loan becomes negotiable paper. The lenders sold truckloads of this dodgy paper to Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac and to investment banks such as Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers. These institutions packaged the stuff into bonds, most of which were rated triple-A and sold to institutional buyers. Finally, companies such as American International Group created a derivative product called a credit-default swap: loss insurance on the bonds.

All this was the structure that collapsed. Who is to blame? Critical Review has essays blaming Congress, for passing the Community Reinvestment Act and promoting Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac; and the Federal Reserve, for keeping credit too cheap for too long. To Friedman, each makes up part of the answer, but they are foundation things only.

 Friedman focuses on the rating agencies, Fitch, Moody’s, and Standard & Poor’s. They rated the bonds and stamped triple-A, the highest quality, on bonds later labeled toxic. Friedman lays much of the blame for the disaster on the misrating of bonds, and I think he is right.

Why did it happen? Others have argued that bond raters have a structural problem. They are paid by the institutions they rate, and thus have an incentive to overlook financial warts. Friedman argues that they have a different structural problem: the federal government licensed them so that there were only three companies doing the work. Further, government has effectively required bond issuers to buy their services. Collectively, they have a guaranteed market; they don’t have to do a good job in order to get paid.

I don’t like protected oligopolies, and I think Friedman has something here. But I’m not convinced that it bears the weight he wants to put on it. Oligopoly power will have some effect on the culture of a company — a bad effect — but it is not a complete explanation for a disaster like this.  To me, being paid by the issuer seems a more direct problem, but that doesn’t satisfy either. Both these conditions have existed for decades. They are background.   

Reading the essays in Critical Review, and other literature on the subject, the idea I get is that the raters had a system based on financial formulas, and within certain parameters the formulas worked. When you have something that works and makes you money, you keep doing it. It takes unusual intelligence and discipline to ask: What if this stops working? What if we are confronted with Nassim Taleb’s “Black Swan” — the unexpected? You’d think a company as important as Lehman Brothers, Standard & Poor’s, or Washington Mutual would have someone asking those questions. Maybe they did, and they didn’t listen to him.

There were people in the financial world (Jim Grant was one) who predicted big trouble. Grant had been a bear for so many years that people discounted what he said. But there is always a reason not to listen, especially if you’re making money. 

Friedman also focuses on the freeze-up in the commercial banks. This happened because the banks had so much invested in mortgage-backed bonds. Why so much? Two papers in Friedman’s volume point to the Basel rules, an international standard for bank safety. When a bank makes an ordinary loan, the Basel rules require it to set aside capital equal to 8 percent of the loan. Mortgages, being backed by real property, are deemed safer; their set-aside is 4 percent. A bond backed by a diversified package of mortgages is deemed safer yet. Its set-aside is only 1.6 percent. The paper by Acharya and Richardson argues that commercial banks loaded up on mortgage-backed bonds “to avoid minimum-capital regulations.”

 

But why did bankers do this? Acharya and Richardson suggest that they took extraordinary risks because they filled their pockets that way.  Banks earned more money and paid senior employees higher bonuses. Friedman is unconvinced. If it were simply a matter of greed, he maintains, bankers would have bought lower-rated double-A bonds that qualified under the Basel rules and yielded more than a triple-A bond of the same type. But among mortgage-backed bonds the bankers bought almost exclusively triple-A-rated paper, which was supposed to be of the highest quality.

“They, like everybody else, believed in the accuracy of the triple-A ratings,” Friedman writes. “They were ignorant of the fact that triple-A rated securities were riskier than advertised.”  Maybe. No doubt some were ignorant. But maybe also the prospect of bonuses amounting to hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars made bankers less than eager to look closely for reasons to stop doing what they were doing.  Maybe their reason for buying triple-A bonds was not only to safeguard their employer but also to insure themselves from criticism.

I put the choice to my wife, Anne. Years ago, she was a vice president at Citibank. Whose explanation made more sense, self-protection or honest mistakes?

“You’re just making up theories,” she said.

Her thought is more like Friedman’s: ignorance.  But it was not an earnest ignorance. The bankers she remembers were not much like the entrepreneurs posited by Austrian economics. They were employees — some political and backbiting, some freeloading, most thinking of their position more than the bank’s, and all willing to hop to another bank. The investment guys were not engaging in grand strategy. They were dressing up the balance sheet so that the quarterly numbers looked good. Most of them had been doing their jobs for less than 10 years.

Economic theory has its limits. Incentives matter, as the economists say. But, as Friedman says, economists often overlook the fact that knowledge, or the absence of it, also matters. Feelings, beliefs, and all the other components of the human psyche matter too. Most people are not profit maximizers except in the tautological sense of wanting what they want. Nor are they fully informed.

Bankers are also subject to bad ideas, and to fads. 

I had an interview with a man who had been one of the top three executives of Washington Mutual, a bank that was seized by the FDIC during the crisis and palmed off to J.P. Morgan Chase. I knew this banker from the 1980s, when I was a financial reporter for a daily newspaper. If I had a difficult question about credit markets, he was the man I’d call. He knew the bank and the markets. He understood regulations and regulators, having been a regulator himself. He was the image of a smart, solid, sensible mortgage banker. A straight talker. 

I asked him what had happened.  “We all drank the Kool-Aid,” he said.

Is that a fault of capitalism or of people? If you say it is the fault of people, remember that the Marxists used to excuse the failures of communism by saying that people were not good enough for it.  We laughed at them when they said that, so let’s not say it ourselves. Let’s admit that capitalism, which allows people to make their own economic decisions, allows bad decisions as well as good ones. It allows people to make bad decisions en masse, and have a bad outcome. 

As libertarians and classical liberals, let’s also keep pointing out, as Friedman does repeatedly, that empowering a central regulator to manage our decisions has its own set of risks, and usually bigger ones than not doing so.  An Alan Greenspan, despite his hard-money sympathies, may set the interest rate too low, and invite a bacchanalia. A Barney Frank, envisioning a world in which every American can owe Fannie Mae money on his house, may be pursuing goals other than your own. And, as Friedman points out at the end of his essay, a layering-on of regulations over the decades may create unintended side effects, just as several drugs, prescribed by doctors at different times for different purposes, may together make a patient violently ill.

Or, to adopt Warren Buffett’s metaphor, the tide went out, and the mortgage originators, the commercial bankers, the investment bankers, the bond raters, and the insurance companies were all swimming naked. “We need regulation!” people say — and yes, damn right, their doings need to be made regular, made rational and sane and proper. But made regular by whom?  Many of the bare butts belong to the government.

Friedman ends his piece by saying: Don’t expect too much of regulators. This is particularly true, he argues, if the bad decisions in the private sector are mistakes rather than cheating.  Cheating can be obvious. For cheating we have cops. Mistakes are obvious only in hindsight.

 

         I had a crack at explaining the panic of 2008 again in reviewing Andrew Redleaf and Richard Vigilante’s book, Panic: The Betrayal of Capitalism by Wall Street and Washington (Richard Vigilante Books, 2010). My review appeared in the August 2010 Liberty.

 

Betraying Capitalism

 

         Three things caught my eye about this book. First was the statement in the subtitle that Wall Street had “betrayed capitalism.” Second was the co-author, Richard Vigilante. I had read his book, Strike: The Daily News War and the Future of American Labor (1994). It was a thoughtful account of a newspaper strike that was critical of the unions but not rabid about them. It was notably well written. Vigilante had been a columnist at New York Newsday and an editor at the Manhattan Institute’s magazine, City Journal.

         A third thing: this was not just a journalist’s book. The other author, Andrew Redleaf, runs a hedge fund. Redleaf had made a name for himself by writing in December 2006 to clients of his company, Whitebox Advisors, that “some time in the next 12 to 18 months, there is going to be a panic in credit markets.”

         And there was. 

         This is a book, then, by someone who understood the event, some essence of it, before almost everyone else. It is also a book about ideas. It should appeal to libertarians on that account, particularly because both Redleaf and Vigilante are supporters of capitalism. They have a view of capitalism much like George Gilder’s in Wealth and Poverty (1981) and that sometimes sounds even Randian — a view based not so much on the mechanistic description of markets as on the entrepreneur.

         There is much in this book about judgment, a word you don’t hear much from economists. Mainstream economists want to reduce human decisions to a model. But how to express judgment as algebra? “Economists dislike the notion of judgment,” the authors write, “not only because they have no way of verifying that it is not actually luck but also because it limits economics.”

         Redleaf and Vigilante are for the free market, but they write, “No matter how free the market, it is the men, not the market, who do the creating.”

         In their view, the market crashed “because both the regulators and the major players believed the same bad ideas.” 

         Bad Idea No. 1 was the efficient-market hypothesis. This is the idea that the investment markets are information-efficient. They take into account all the information people know. When market prices change, it means the information has changed. This is the view that when it comes to price, “the market is always right.”

         If the market “knows” more than any individual player, then an individual can’t expect to beat the market — at least, not consistently. And this does seem to be true with mutual-fund managers. Each year some beat the market and some fall short. But the ones who beat it this year are not any more likely to beat it next year. And that leads to Bad Idea No. 2: “You can’t beat the market.”

           The authors don’t accept this. They have the old-fashioned idea that the investment markets are “a proving ground, where the wise can be sorted from the fools.” If mutual fund managers don’t beat the market, the authors say, it’s because “mutual fund investors are dumb.” After the fund manager has had a couple of good years, and should be selling because the fund’s stocks are overpriced, investors are noticing how well the fund has done. They’re piling in, putting cash in the manager’s hands when he ought to be paying cash out. When the manager ought to be buying aggressively because his stocks are cheap, his investors are demanding cash.

         The way to beat the market, the authors say, is to look for “price anomalies,” where other investors have pushed prices too far, or not far enough. And that means paying attention to detail and using judgment.

         Modern Portfolio Theory says otherwise. The thing to do is not to look at each investment up close. The thing to do, the theory says, is to buy things in certain patterns. Diversify. And for most investors, diversification is a good rule. But the reason is not that the market is so smart. It’s that you may not be, and diversification limits the cost of a single mistake.

         “Diversification is always and everywhere a confession of ignorance,” the authors write.

         It is one thing to admit your ignorance, even as you hack at it like a field of weeds. It is another to surrender to it, and go into the weed-management business. Essentially this is what large investors did.

         In the mortgage markets, this meant putting mortgages in bundles and turning them into bonds. The bond buyers did not look at individual mortgages. Their view was statistical only. And as long as the mortgages were made the same old way, with income verification, 20 percent down, payment of full principal and interest, et cetera, these bonds were good.

         Then came structured finance.That was a way of defining bonds backed by a pool, so that the first X-number of defaults from the pool would be charged to one group of bonds only. That would make the one group high-risk, and worth less. But another group, the larger group, would be virtually zero-risk. This allowed the investment bank to make a considerable number of triple-A rated bonds from a lower-rated pool, and create more value for investors and profit for itself.

         As a mathematical idea the thing is elegant. But it works for investors only if the underlying default rate on mortgages stays below a certain amount. That means the mortgage originator has to lend money according to the old rules, or new rules that are just as good. But they didn’t. Part of the reason was that the government was ordering Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac to lend to low-income borrowers, and the way to do it was to lower credit standards. Part of the reason — the “greed” part — was that the lower the standards were for all borrowers, the more money each seller in the chain made in the short run. Part of the reason — the part the authors stress — is that the buyers in the chain had a theory that told them their risk was managed, and they didn’t have to worry about it.

         The problem, the authors say, wasn’t so much that the bankers were reckless. It was that they were following a theory that said they weren’t reckless.

         When bankers realized their banks might be broke, they panicked. “The real problem,” the authors write, “was not that some of the banks were broke but that at the critical moment none of them could prove they weren’t.” The structured-finance bonds were difficult to analyze — and because of modern portfolio theory, the banks had cut back on analysts.

         The arguments about the role of modern portfolio theory are not unique to this book. What sets these authors apart are their attitude and style. Theirs is a moralized account, focusing on fundamental ideas. One is ownership, subdivided into strong owners and weak owners. In comparing a person buying a house and a homeowner doing a “cash-out refi,” they write:

         “The new buyer putting down 20 percent and the old owner taking money out of his house are doing profoundly different things. One is becoming an owner, the other is weakening his ownership. One is buying in, the other is selling out.”

         About business they write:

         “Capitalism rests on strong ownership. Being an owner means more than having the right to the income from an asset. Ownership implies both the legal right and the practical capacity to make judgments about the care and use of the asset.”

         A small public stockholder is a weak owner — and a taxpayer is the weakest owner of all. They write:

         “Both the mortgage crisis and the crash are best understood as the result of government policies that pushed trillions of dollars in assets out of the hands of relatively strong owners and into the hands of weak owners.”

         The authors were not against government intervention. They point to the provision of the Constitution that authorizes the federal government “to coin money [and] to regulate the value thereof.” They write:

         “Any institution the disorderly collapse of which would prevent the government from keeping the dollar stable is rightly considered too big to fail. This does not mean the government is obliged to ‘bail out’ the offender. Summary execution is a fine and venerable option. But the government is absolutely obliged to keep the offender’s collapse from destroying credit markets and thus the currency of the United States.”

         Before the government money went into the banks’ capital, the idea for the bailout was for the Treasury to buy the banks’ bad assets. But in the panic, the market froze for certain categories of good assets as well. The authors argue that the government should have intervened “in ruthless capitalist fashion” bidding openly for the good assets.

         That assumes, of course, that the people working for the government would know what the good assets were. That part of the authors’ argument is not too clear.

         In their view, what the Treasury actually did was an example of crony capitalism. “Contrary to the fevered rhetoric of the left,” they say, “the Bush Administration was not actually managed by idiots. It was, however, overpopulated with personally successful, anti-intellectual, unreflective crony capitalists.”

         This is not an academic book. It is colloquial and middlebrow. It simplifies, maybe sometimes too much, and it does not tell the whole story of the panic. It has little to say about credit default swaps or the Basel accords or the monetary policy of the Federal Reserve. About the credit rating agencies it says only that they “recycled market prices as credit ratings,” which is not saying enough. But this book does analyze a central part of the story, and in a colorful and idea-centered way that should be attractive for a libertarian reader.

© 2008, 2009, 2010 Bruce Ramsey