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BANKING BUNKUM Part 3d: The
lessons of the US experience By Henry
C K Liu
Part 1: Monetary theology
Part 2: The
European experience
Part 3a: The
US experience
Part 3b: More
on the US experience
Part 3c: 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 inflation - bad
economic news by the Fed, despite the fact that the
aggregate purchasing power is increased by 5 percent.
Therein lies the fundamental cause of a bubble economy -
growth and profit are generated by asset inflation
rather than by increased aggregate demand stimulating
aggregate supply.
Thus the relationship of
interest rate to inflation is dependent on the
definition of money, which raises questions about the
Fed preoccupation with interest-rate policy as a tool to
achieve price stability. But that is not the end of the
story. Under finance capitalism, inflation is not merely
too much money chasing too few goods, as under
industrial capitalism. Under financial capitalism, two
elements - credit availability and credit markets - have
overshadowed the traditional goods and equity markets of
industrial capitalism. This makes it necessary to
re-examine the traditional relationship of interest rate
and inflation.
In a bull market, the buyer has
the advantage because the buyer has the final upside. In
a bear market, the seller has the advantage because the
buyer is left holding the downside bag. Of course one
must avoid buying at the peak and selling at the bottom.
And such strategies have self-fulfilling effects, as
technical analysts can readily testify. These effects
are magnified in long-run bull or bear markets, which
are represented by a rising or falling sine curve.
However, the buyer's advantage in a bull market may be
neutralized by the inflation that usually accompanies
bull markets. Thus a true bull market must yield net
capital gain after inflation and real interest cost, ie,
interest cost after inflation. And in a deflationary
bear market, the seller's advantage is reinforced by
deflation, for he can repurchase at a later date with
only a fraction of his realized cash from what he sold
previously. Not only would the seller avoid additional
loss of holding the unsold asset in a falling market,
the cash from the sale appreciates in purchasing power
with every passing day in a bear market.
Thus
money plays a passive role as a medium of exchange and
an active role as a store of value on the movement of
prices. The conventional view that inflation is caused
by, or is a result of (the two are connected but not
identical), too much money chasing too few goods then is
not always operative. This is because the availability
of credit and the operational rules of credit markets
can distort the traditional relationship. Credit
markets, which have expanded way beyond traditional
credit intermediated by the banking system, operate on
the theory that money generally must earn interest,
whether it is actually put to use or not.
There
are of course abnormal times when money actually earns
negative interest because of government policy or
foreign exchange constraints, as in Hong Kong in the
early 1990s and Japan since 2000. When idle money earns
no interest, credit reserve dries up, because it creates
greater incentive to put money to work, ie, investing it
in productive enterprises. For money to remain idly
waiting for better opportunity, the interest rate must
equal or exceed the opportunity cost of idle cash.
Interest then acts as a penalty for idle money. When
idle money earns interest, the interest payment comes
ultimately from the central bank, which alone can create
more money with no penalty to itself, though the economy
it lords over is not immune. Since late 1999, the
Japanese monetary authorities have repeatedly reaffirmed
their commitment to maintaining their zero-interest-rate
policy until deflationary forces have been dispelled.
The result is a great deal of idle money in Japanese
banks with no creditworthy borrowers, for no one is
interested in borrowing money to buy one widget that
needs to be paid back with appreciated money that could
buy two widgets in the future. Japanese savers are
forgoing interest income for the increasing purchasing
power of their idle money in an unending deflationary
spiral.
Efficiency in the credit markets pushes
money toward the highest use and willingness to pay the
highest interest. Thus when the central bank tightens
money supply, the market will drive up interest rates
and vice versa. Thus interest rate is a credit market
index. When central banks such as the Fed use
interest-rate policy to manage the money supply, they
are in fact using a narrow market index to manipulate
the broader market. It is not different from the Fed
fixing the Dow Jones Industrial Average (DJIA) by buying
or selling blue-chip shares to influence the broad
S&P.
When prices fall, one reason may be
that consumers do not have money to buy with, as in most
recessions with high unemployment. Or it may be the
result of potential consumers withholding their money
for still lower prices, as in Japan now and in some
degree in China in 1998-2000. So deflation is caused by
too many goods trying to attract too little money
entering the market, but not necessarily too little
money in the economy.
But if every seller can
realize a cash surplus in a subsequent repurchase in a
bear market, where does all the surplus money go?
Obviously it goes to pay interest on the idle money
waiting for a cheaper price, reducing the central bank's
need to issue more money to carry the interest cost on
idle money. The net effect is a removal of money from
the market and an increase in the amount of idle money
in the economy. So deflation actually pushes up interest
rates without necessarily altering the aggregate money
supply. The effect is that until prices fall at a lesser
rate than the interest rate on idle money, there is no
incentive to buy. Thus a deflation-driven rising
interest rate creates more deflationary pressure in a
bear market. High interest rates move more wealth from
borrowers to lenders and from bottom to top in the
wealth pyramid. Moreover, the impact of a high interest
rate modifies economic behavior differently in different
groups and even on different activities within the same
individual. When the prime rate at leading banks
exceeded 20 percent in 1980, credit continued to expand
explosively. The opposite happened when the Bank of
Japan reduced the interest rate to zero. High rates only
work to slow credit expansion if the rates are ahead of
inflation. And zero rate only works to stimulate credit
expansion if there is no deflation. So raising interest
rates to combat inflation or lowering rates to combat
deflation can be self-defeating under certain
conditions.
Now if two economies are linked by
floating exchange rates, free trade and free investment
flows, the one with a high rate of inflation will see
the exchange rate of its currency fall. But a fall in
its currency will increase the cost of its imports, thus
adding to its inflation rate, and the further rise in
the inflation rate will push up interest rates further.
But a rise in domestic interest rates will stop or slow
the fall of its currency and attract more fund inflows
to buy its goods and assets. It also increases its
exports, which reduces the supply of goods and assets in
the domestic market, thus pushing up domestic prices,
while pushing down the price of imports. The net
inflation/deflation balance will then depend on the
trade balance between exports and imports. This had been
given by the European Central Bank (ECB) as the logic of
raising euro interest rates to fight inflation. But this
effect does not work for the United States because of
dollar hegemony, which enables the US to run a recurring
trade deficit with moderating inflation impacts. That is
why the policies of the ECB and the Fed are constantly
out of sync.
The availability of financial
derivatives further complicates the picture, because
both interest rates and foreign-exchange rates can be
hedged, obscuring and distorting the fundamental
relations among interest rates, exchange rates and
inflation. The recurring global financial crises in the
past decade were manifestations of this distortion.
The theory of market equilibrium asserts that a
market tends to reach "natural" equilibrium as it
approaches efficiency, which is defined as the speed and
ease with which equilibrium is reached. Equilibrium is
an abstract concept like infinity. It is a
self-extending conceptual end state that has no
definitive form or reality. Yet the market is complex
not only because the relationship of market elements is
poorly defined or even undefinable, but also the very
instruments designed to enhance market efficiency tend
to create wide volatility and instability. Thus a
"natural" equilibrium state can in fact be defined as
the actual state of the fluctuating market at any moment
in time.
With 24-hour trading, the notion of a
milestone moment of equilibrium is problematic. Further,
the very financial instruments created to enhance market
efficiency toward its "natural" equilibrium state make
the equilibrium elusive. Such instruments are mainly
designed to manage risk generated by both broad market
movements and momentary disequilibrium. Structured
finance mainly involves unbundling financial risks in
global markets for buyers who will pay the highest price
for specific protection. Because users of these
instruments look for special payoffs through unbundling
of risk, the cost of managing such risk is maximized.
The disaggregating renders the notion of market
equilibrium not unifiable. The unbundled risks are
marketed to those with the biggest appetite for such
risks, in return for compensatory returns.
Thus
market equilibrium is not any more merely a large pool
of turbulent transactions with a level surface. It is in
fact a pool of transactions with many different levels
of interconnected surfaces, each serving highly
disaggregated specialty markets. Equilibrium in this
case becomes a highly complex notion making the impact
and prospect of externalities highly uncertain. That
uncertainty caused the demise of Long Term Capital
Management (LTCM), for a while the world's most
successful hedge fund based on immaculate quantitative
logic. Interest swaps, for example, are not
single-purpose transactions for managing interest-rate
risks. They can be structured as inflation risk hedges,
or foreign-exchange risk hedges, or any number of other
financial needs or protection. And the impact is not
limited to the two contracting counterparties, since
each party usually hedges again with a third
counterparty who in turn hedges with another
counterparty. That is what makes hedging systemic. A
further irony is that the very objective of insuring
against volatility risk by covering the market broadly
increases risks of illiquidity.
Monetary-policy
decision makers in the past decade have tended to be
fixated on preventing inflation. Some questions come to
mind over this fact. Is inflation the worst of all
economic evils; and specifically, is current US monetary
policy consistent with maintaining a low rate of
inflation, assuming a low inflation rate is desirable?
Or, to put it another way, is there any empirical
evidence that inflation can be controlled by the central
bank at a cost less than that exacted by inflation
itself? Would the establishment of price stability as
the Fed's sole objective hinder long-run growth
prospects for the US and the global economy? The answers
to these questions are critical for the assessment of
monetary policy.
Two Nobel laureates from the
Chicago School, Milton Friedman and Robert Lucas, have
influenced mainstream economics on these issues.
Friedman, the 1976 Nobel economist, emphasized the role
of monetary policy as a factor in shaping the course of
inflation and business cycles. In the popular press, he
also was known for his advocacy of deregulated markets
and free trade as the best option for economic
development. Lucas, the 1995 Nobel economist, also made
fundamental contributions to the study of money,
inflation, and business cycles, through the application
of modern mathematics. Lucas formed what came to be
called a theory of "rational expectations". In essence,
the "rational expectations" theory shows how
expectations about the future influence the economic
decisions made by individuals, households and companies.
Using complex mathematical models, Lucas showed
statistically that the average individual would
anticipate - and thus could easily undermine - the
impact of a government's economic policy. Rational
expectation theory was embraced by the Reagan White
House during its first term, but the doctrine worked
against the Reagan voodoo economic plan instead of with
it.
In 1976, the long-run relationship between
inflation and unemployment was still under debate in
mainstream economics. During the 1960s, mainstream
economics leaned toward the belief that a lower average
unemployment rate could be sustained at the cost of a
permanently higher (but stable) rate of inflation.
Friedman used his Nobel lecture to make two
arguments about this inflation-unemployment tradeoff.
First, he advanced the logic of why short-run tradeoff
would dissolve in the long run. Expanding nominal demand
to lower unemployment would lead to increases in money
wages as firms attempted to attract additional workers.
Firms would be willing to pay higher money wages if they
expected prices for output to be higher in the future
due to expansion and inflation. Workers would initially
perceive the rise in money wages to be a rise in real
wages because their "perception of prices in general"
adjusts only with a time lag, so nominal wages would be
perceived to be rising faster than prices. In response,
the supply of labor would increase, and employment and
output would expand. Eventually, workers would recognize
that the general level of prices had risen and that
their real wages had not actually increased, leading to
adjustments that would return the economy to its natural
rate of unemployment.
Yet Friedman only
described a partial picture of the employment/inflation
interaction. Events since 1976 have shown the
relationship to be much more complex. Friedman neglected
the possibility of increased productivity and quantum
technological innovation resulting from more research
and development (R&D) in an expanding economy in
containing price increases. Higher wages do not
necessarily cause inflation in an economy with expanding
production or overcapacity. He also did not foresee the
effects of globalization, ie, the shift of production to
low-wage regions, on holding down domestic inflation in
the core economies.
Friedman's second argument
was that the Phillips Curve slope might actually be
positive - higher inflation would be associated with
higher average unemployment. He argued that only low
inflation would lead to a natural rate of unemployment.
This for policy makers was the equivalent of "when
unemployment is unavoidable, relax and enjoy it".
At the core of modern macroeconomics is some
version of the famous Phillips Curve relationship
between inflation and unemployment. The curve serves two
purposes for economists and policy makers: 1) In
theoretical models of inflation, it provides the
"missing equation" to explain how changes in nominal
income divide into price and quantity components; and 2)
on the policy front, it specifies conditions
contributing to the effectiveness of
expansionary/disinflationary policies.
The idea
of an inflation/unemployment tradeoff is not new. It was
a key component of the monetary doctrines of David Hume
(1752) and Henry Thornton (1802), and identified in 1926
by Irving Fisher, who saw causation as running from
inflation to unemployment (but not low unemployment
causing inflation, as most modern central bankers do).
It was stated in the form of an econometric equation by
Jan Tinbergen in 1936 and again by Lawrence Klein and
Arthur Goldberger in 1955. It was not until 1958 that
modern Phillips Curve analysis began when A W Phillips
published his famous article in which he fitted a
statistical equation w = f(U) to annual data on
percentage rates of change of money wages (w) and the
unemployment rate (U) in the United Kingdom during
1861-1913, showing the response of wages to the excess
demand for labor as proxied by the inverse of the
unemployment rate. Zero wage inflation occurred at 4.5
percent of unemployment historically.
In the
pre-globalized 1970s, many economies were experiencing
rising inflation and unemployment simultaneously.
Friedman attempted to provide a tentative hypothesis for
this phenomenon. In his view, higher inflation tends to
be associated with more inflation volatility and greater
inflation uncertainty. This uncertainty reduces economic
efficiency as contracting arrangements must adjust,
imperfections in indexation systems become more
prominent, and price movements provide confused signals
about the types of relative price changes that indicate
the need for resources to shift.
Three reasons
contributed to the wide acceptance of Phillips' curve,
despite critics' attack that it was a mere empirical
correlation masquerading as a tradeoff. First, the curve
shows remarkably temporal stability of the relationship,
fitting both the pre-World War I period of 1861-1913 and
the post-World War II period of 1948-57. Second, the
curve can accommodate a wide variety of inflation
theories. While the curve explains inflation as
resulting from excess demand that bids up wages and
prices, it remains neutral about the cause of that
phenomenon. Both demand-pull and cost-push theorists can
accept the curve as offering insights into the nature of
the inflationary process while disagreeing on the causes
of and therefore the appropriate remedies for inflation.
Finally, policy makers like it because it provides a
convenient and convincing rationale for the failure to
achieve full employment with price stability, twin goals
that were thought to be compatible before the advent of
Phillips Curve analysis. Also, the curve, by offering a
menu of alternative inflation/unemployment combination
from which the authorities could choose, provided a
ready-made justification for discretionary central bank
intervention and activist fine-tuning, not to mention
the self-interest of the economic advisors who supply
the cost-benefit analysis underlying the central bank's
choices.
Yet the Phillips Curve is now widely
viewed as offering no tradeoff, thus it supports the
notion of policy futility. Unemployment then is
considered a natural phenomenon with no long-term cure.
It is an amazing posture for the economic profession
given that even as conservative a profession as medicine
has not accepted the existence of any incurable
diseases. All the "scientific" pronouncements on the
natural rate and inevitability of unemployment fall into
the same category of insight as that by US president
Calvin Coolidge: "When large numbers of people are
unable to find work, unemployment will result."
The parallel correlation between inflation and
unemployment that Friedman noted was subsequently
replaced by an opposite correlation as the early 1980s
saw disinflations accompanied by recessions. After that,
many economists would view inflation and unemployment
movements as reflecting both aggregate supply and
aggregate demand disturbances as well as the dynamic
adjustments the economy follows in response to these
disturbances. When demand disturbances dominate,
inflation and unemployment will tend to be opposingly
correlated initially as, for example, an expansion
lowers unemployment and raises inflation. As the economy
adjusts, prices continue to increase as unemployment
begins to rise again and return to its natural rate.
When supply disturbances dominate (as in the 1970s),
inflation and unemployment will tend to move initially
in the same direction.
In the 1990s, a new
phenomenon known as the wealth effect came into play in
extending the business cycle. As credit became
liberalized and risk socialized, asset prices began to
outstrip both earnings and wages. Consumption became
driven by capital gain rather than rising income from
wages. Inflation, which mainstream economics never
defined as including capital gain, remained
unrealistically low as wages fell behind asset
appreciation. Yet the Fed was unable to prevent the
bubble expansion by a monetary tightening because
inflation was mysteriously low while both share and
real-estate prices doubled yearly. When the Fed finally
launched in 1999 its preemptive fight against potential
inflation, the result was a drastic deflation of the
equity markets and a hard landing for the bubble
economy.
A sizable number of economists have
followed Friedman in accepting that there is no long-run
tradeoff that would allow permanently lower unemployment
to be traded for higher inflation. And a part of the
reason for this acceptance is the contributions of
Lucas.
In his Nobel lecture, Lucas noted that
some evidence exists that average inflation rates and
average money growth rates are tightly linked: "The
observation that money changes induce output changes in
the same direction receives confirmation in some data
sets but is hard to see in others. Large-scale
reductions in money growth can be associated with
large-scale depressions or, if carried out in the form
of a credible reform, with no depression at all." Lucas
drew this conclusion largely from work on episodes of
hyper-inflations in which major institutional reforms
had been associated with large changes in inflation;
when major reforms are not involved, the evidence shows
a more consistent effect of monetary policy expansions
and contractions on real activity. Recent International
Monetary Fund (IMF) insistence on punitive
"conditionalities" for financial bailouts of distressed
sovereign debt is strongly influenced by Lucas's
"credible reform" notion. Pain is extracted as proof of
commitment.
While Friedman also stressed that
the real effects of changes in monetary policy would
depend on whether they were anticipated or not, Lucas
demonstrated the striking implications of assuming that
individuals form their expectations rationally. Lucas
abandoned Friedman's notion of a gradual adjustment of
expectations based on past developments and instead
stressed the forward-looking nature of expectations.
Expectations of future monetary easing or tightening
will affect the economy now. And this means that the
real effects of an increase in money growth could, in
principle, be expansionary or contractionary, depending
on the public's expectations. Nowadays this phenomenon
is visible every day in the equity markets. The Fed's
interest-rate moves have become a cat-and-mouse game
with market participants and are one of the prime
factors behind market volatility.
One
consequence of this insight has been a new recognition
of the importance of credibility in policy; that is, a
credible policy - one that is explicit and for which the
central bank is held responsible - can influence the way
people form their expectations. Thus, the effects of
policy actions by a central bank with credibility may be
quite different from those of a central bank that lacks
credibility. Even though the empirical evidence for
credibility effects was weak in the past, the emphasis
on credibility has been one factor motivating central
banks to design policy frameworks that embody credible
commitments to low inflation. In this respect, it is a
puzzlement why the Fed insists on keeping its
interest-rate policy a suspenseful surprise for market
participants, leading to increased market volatility and
uncertainty. Moreover, if a credible long-term
price-stability policy produces no tradeoff in
unemployment, it follows that the reverse may be true:
that a credible policy goal of full employment may not
even lead to long-term inflation.
Some
economists have begun to question the natural
unemployment rate result that Lucas's work helped to
promote. They argue that even credible low-inflation
policies are likely to carry a cost in terms of
permanently higher unemployment and that a stable
Phillips Curve tradeoff exists at low rates of
inflation. They argue that employee resistance to money
wage cuts will limit the ability of real wages to adjust
when the price level is stable. But the influence of
Friedman and Lucas has clearly shifted the debate since
the early 1970s. Now it is the proponents of a tradeoff
who represent the minority view.
There are some
who uses the TINA (there is no alternative) argument
against efforts to reform the Fed's approach to monetary
policy. Yet it is clear that the very structure of the
Fed leans toward a particular political theory of
inflation that seems out of phase with reality.
The Fed, while independent within government,
has seen its legislative mandate for monetary policy
change several times since its founding in 1913. The
most recent revisions were in 1977 and 1978
(Humphrey-Hawkins), which require the Fed to promote
both price stability and full employment. The past
changes in the Fed's mandate appear to reflect both
economic events in the United States and advances in
understanding of how the economy functions. In the two
decades since the Fed's mandate was last changed, there
have been further important economic and financial
developments made possible by shifts in economic thought
that have been ideologically influenced, and these raise
the issue of whether the goals for US monetary policy
need to be modified once again in view of current data.
Indeed, a number of other countries - notably those that
adopted the euro as a common currency - having accepted
price stability as the original primary goal of their
unified monetary policy, are raising similar questions.
Japan, having suffered a decade-long recession that
begins to look perpetual, has been pushing its central
bank to undertake drastic stimulative policies.
The Federal Reserve Act of 1913 did not
incorporate any macroeconomic goals for monetary policy,
but instead required the Fed to "provide an elastic
currency". This meant that the Fed should help the
economy avoid the financial panics and bank runs that
plagued the 19th century by serving as a "lender of last
resort", which involved making loans directly to
depository institutions through the discount windows of
the Reserve Banks. During this early period, most of the
actions of monetary policy that affected the
macro-economy were determined by the US government's
adherence to the gold standard.
The trauma of
the Great Depression, coupled with the insights of John
Maynard Keynes, led to an acknowledgment of the
obligation of the US government to prevent recessions.
The Employment Act of 1946 was the first legislative
statement of these macroeconomic policy goals. Although
it did not specifically mention the Fed, it required the
federal government in general to foster "conditions
under which there will be afforded useful employment
opportunities ... for those able, willing, and seeking
to work, and to promote maximum employment, production,
and purchasing power". Therein lies the fundamental flaw
in the wisdom of the political independence of the
Federal Reserves. Congress has never legislated
unemployment as a legitimate tool to fight inflation,
economic theory notwithstanding. There is a whole list
of antisocial programs that, if made legal, could lead
to economic efficiency, such as terminating unproductive
life, genetic engineering to raise intelligence-quotient
(IQ) scores or to eliminate costly genetic diseases,
selective education opportunities based on potential
economic performance, etc. Yet societal value condemns
such programs. Why is unemployment an exception?
The Great Inflation of the 1970s was a major US
economic dislocation. This problem was addressed in a
1977 amendment to the Federal Reserve Act, which
provided the first explicit recognition of price
stability as a national policy goal. The amended act
states that the Fed "shall maintain long-run growth of
the monetary and credit aggregates commensurate with the
economy's long-run potential to increase production, so
as to promote effectively the goals of maximum
employment, stable prices, and moderate long-term
interest rates". The goals of "stable prices" and
"moderate long-term interest rates" are related because
nominal interest rates are boosted by a premium over
real rates equal to expected future inflation. Thus,
"stable prices" will typically produce long-term
interest rates that are "moderate".
The
objective of "maximum" employment remained intact from
the 1946 Employment Act; however, the interpretation of
this term may have changed during the intervening 30
years. Immediately after World War II, when conscription
and price controls had produced a high-pressure economy
with very low unemployment in the United States, some
perhaps believed that the goal of "maximum" employment
could be taken in its mathematical sense to mean the
highest possible level of employment. However, by the
second half of the 1970s, it was well understood that
some "frictional" unemployment, which involves the
search for new jobs and the transition between
occupations, is a necessary accompaniment to the proper
functioning of the economy in the long run.
This
understanding went hand in hand in the latter half of
the 1970s with a general acceptance of the natural rate
hypothesis, which implies that if policy were to try to
keep employment above its long-run trend permanently or,
equivalently, the unemployment rate below its natural
rate, then inflation would be pushed higher and higher.
Policy can temporarily reduce the unemployment rate
below its natural rate or, equivalently, boost
employment above its long-run trend. However,
persistently attempting to maintain "maximum" employment
that is above its long-run level would not be consistent
with the goal of stable prices.
Thus, in order
for maximum employment and stable prices to be mutually
consistent goals, maximum employment should be
interpreted as meaning maximum sustainable employment,
referred to also as "full employment". Moreover,
although the Fed has little if any influence on the
long-run level of employment, it can attempt to smooth
out short-run fluctuations. Accordingly, promoting full
employment can be interpreted as a countercyclical
monetary policy in which the Fed aims to smooth out the
amplitude of the business cycle.
This
interpretation of the Fed's mandate was later confirmed
in the Humphrey-Hawkins legislation. As its official
title - the Full Employment and Balanced Growth Act of
1978 - clearly implies, this legislation mandates the
federal government generally to "... promote full
employment and production, increased real income,
balanced growth, a balanced federal budget, adequate
productivity growth, proper attention to national
priorities, achievement of an improved trade balance ...
and reasonable price stability ...". Besides clarifying
the general goal of full employment, the
Humphrey-Hawkins Act also specified numerical
definitions or targets. The act specified two initial
goals: an unemployment rate of 4 percent for full
employment and a CPI inflation rate of 3 percent for
price stability. These were only "interim" goals to be
achieved by 1983 and followed by a further reduction in
inflation to 0 percent by 1988; however, the
disinflation policies during this period were not to
impede the achievement of the full-employment goal.
Thereafter, the timetable to achieve or maintain price
stability and full employment was to be defined by each
year's Economic Report of the President.
The
Fed, then, has two main legislated goals for monetary
policy: promoting full employment and promoting stable
prices. The transparency of goals refers to the extent
to which the objectives of monetary policy are clearly
defined and can be easily and obviously understood by
the public. The goal of full employment will never be
very transparent because it is not directly observed but
only estimated by economists with limited precision. For
example, the 1997 Economic Report of the President
(which has authority in this matter from the
Humphrey-Hawkins Act) gives a range of 5-6 percent for
the unemployment rate consistent with full employment,
with a midpoint of 5.5 percent. Research suggests that
there is a very wide range of uncertainty around any
estimate of the natural rate. Price stability as a goal
is also subject to some ambiguity. Recent economic
analysis has uncovered systematic biases, say, on the
order of 1 percentage point, in the CPI's measurement of
inflation.
In fact, it would not be far wrong to
conclude that the Fed has a policy to keep unemployment
from falling below 4 percent, as evident in Greenspan's
raising the Fed Funds Rate in the late 1990s in response
to falling unemployment. The Wall Street Journal on
October 3, 2000, reported that the Fed had come under
the influence of Johan G K Wicksell (1851-1926) on the
relationship among interest rates, growth and inflation.
The Fed had pushed inflation-adjusted real rates
historically high. Monetarists, who have dominated the
Fed throughout its history, subscribe to the theory that
inflation can only be prevented either by high rates to
contain growth or by high unemployment to depress wages,
which are two faces of the same coin. Wicksell argued
that monetary policy works best at containing inflation
by pegging interest rates to investment returns rather
than money supply. That theory provides a needed cover
for Greenspan's high-interest-rate policy at the height
of the debt bubble. Of course, the Treasury, with the
patriotic support of the Fed, has repeatedly declared
that a strong dollar is in the US national interest. And
a strong dollar requires high US interest rates in the
international finance architecture. But now, in addition
to national-interest justifications, a scientific theory
has been resurrected to support Greenspan's policy.
Field data have demolished the claim that low
unemployment (below 6 percent) causes inflation.
Greenspan calls his high rates "equilibrium interest
rates".
The Fed, notwithstanding its
intellectual pretense, has always been a political
institution. The politics of economics repeatedly
resurrects from the intellectual wasteland, the
theoretical Siberia as it were, new gurus to support its
latest ideology. Nobel winners are proponents of
theories that explain "scientifically" last year's
political expediency. The list includes Friedrich von
Hayek (free market), Friedman (monetary theory), Robert
Mundell (global capital), Schumpeter (creative
destruction) etc. Wicksell makes it respectable for
Greenspan to abdicated his responsibility as Fed
Chairman, by pretending to follow the market, to treat
interest rates as prices of money set by market forces,
and not as a tool to promote employment or growth, an if
necessary only as a tool to bail out banks in distress.
The embarrassing question of why then the United
States needs a Federal Reserve is never asked. The fact
is that the monetarists at the Fed are fervently
intervening in the market - the only difference between
monetarists and Keynesians is that monetarists intervene
to safeguard the value of capital while Keynesians
intervene to protect labor from unemployment and low
wages. As post-Keynesians economist Paul Davidson said,
everyone has an income policy; they just don't like the
other fellow's income policy but claim their own as
"free" market determined.
This creates rethinks
on Wall Street. Traders and investors may have to
reverse their knee-jerk reaction to sell when the Fed
raises rates. Unless, of course, corporate profit falls
amid rising rates, as they are beginning to.
Wicksell was born in Stockholm. His book
Value, Capital and Rent (1893) was not translated
into English until 1954. His Lectures on Political
Economy (two volumes, 1901-06) and Selected
Papers on Economic Theory (1958) were read only by
professionals. Wicksell did rigorous work on the
marginalist theory of price and distribution and on
monetary theory. Lectures on Political Economy
has been aptly called a "textbook for professors". In an
unusually checkered career (including a brief spell of
imprisonment for exercising his right of free speech) he
wrote and lectured tirelessly of radical issues, which
did not figure among the qualities that Greenspan
admired. He was an advocate of social and economic
reforms of various kinds, most notably neo-Malthusian
population controls. In his later years he was revered
by the new generation of economists, who became known as
the Stockholm School. They developed his ideas on the
cumulative process into a dynamic theory of monetary
macroeconomics simultaneously with but independently of
the Keynesian revolution.
Greenspan's selective
use of other people's idea is notorious. His fondness of
Schumpeterean "creative destruction", which he cites in
every speech, always leaves out the second half of
Schumpeter's conclusion: that creative destruction tends
to encourage monopolies (a la Microsoft) and accelerates
the coming of socialism.
Paul Volcker's monetary
policy was identical to that of Benjamin Strong, who was
president of the all-powerful New York Fed, and whose
stewardship of which was hailed by Friedman as the era
of "high tide" for the Fed. The policy was: save th | | | |