By GEORGE MELLOAN
As Congress blithely ushers its trillion dollar "stimulus" package toward law and the U.S. Treasury prepares to begin writing checks on this vast new appropriation, it might be wise to ask a simple question: Who's going to finance it?
That might seem like a no-brainer, which perhaps explains why no one has bothered to ask. Treasury securities are selling at high prices and finding buyers even though yields are low, hovering below 3% for 10-year notes. Congress is able to assure itself that it will finance the stimulus with cheap credit. But how long will credit be cheap? Will it still be when the Treasury is scrounging around in the international credit markets six months or a year from now? That seems highly unlikely.
Let's have a look at the credit market. Treasurys have been strong because the stock market collapse and the mortgage-backed securities fiasco sent the whole world running for safety. The best looking port in the storm, as usual, was U.S. Treasury paper. That is what gave the dollar and Treasury securities the lift they now enjoy.
But that surge was a one-time event and doesn't necessarily mean that a big new batch of Treasury securities will find an equally strong market. Most likely it won't as the global economy spirals downward.
For one thing, a very important cycle has been interrupted by the crash. For years, the U.S. has run large trade deficits with China and Japan and those two countries have invested their surpluses mostly in U.S. Treasury securities. Their holdings are enormous: As of Nov. 30 last year, China held $682 billion in Treasurys, a sharp rise from $459 billion a year earlier. Japan had reduced its holdings, to $577 billion from $590 billion a year earlier, but remains a huge creditor. The two account for almost 65% of total Treasury securities held by foreign owners, 19% of the total U.S. national debt, and over 30% of Treasurys held by the public.
In the lush years of the U.S. credit boom, it was rationalized that this circular arrangement was good for all concerned. Exports fueled China's rapid economic growth and created jobs for its huge work force, American workers could raise their living standards by buying cheap Chinese goods. China's dollar surplus gave the U.S. Treasury a captive pool of investment to finance congressional deficits. It was argued, persuasively, that China and Japan had no choice but to buy U.S. bonds if they wanted to keep their exports to the U.S. flowing. They also would hurt their own interests if they tried to unload Treasurys because that would send the value of their remaining holdings down.
But what if they stopped buying bonds not out of choice but because they were out of money? The virtuous circle so much praised would be broken. Something like that seems to be happening now. As the recession deepens, U.S. consumers are spending less, even on cheap Chinese goods and certainly on Japanese cars and electronic products. Japan, already a smaller market for U.S. debt last November, is now suffering what some have described as "free fall" in industrial production. Its two champions, Toyota and Sony, are faltering badly. China's growth also is slowing, and it is plagued by rising unemployment.
American officials seem not to have noticed this abrupt and dangerous change in global patterns of trade and finance. The new Treasury secretary, Timothy Geithner, at his Senate confirmation hearing harped on that old Treasury mantra about China "manipulating" its currency to gain trade advantage. Vice President Joe Biden followed up with a further lecture to the Chinese but said the U.S. will not move "unilaterally" to keep out Chinese exports. One would hope not "unilaterally" or any other way if the U.S. hopes to keep flogging its Treasurys to the Chinese.
The Congressional Budget Office is predicting the federal deficit will reach $1.2 trillion this fiscal year. That's more than double the $455 billion deficit posted for fiscal 2008, and some private estimates put the likely outcome even higher. That will drive up interest costs in the federal budget even if Treasury yields stay low. But if a drop in world market demand for Treasurys sends borrowing costs upward, there could be a ballooning of the interest cost line in the budget that will worsen an already frightening outlook. Credit for the rest of the economy will become more dear as well, worsening the recession. Treasury's Wednesday announcement that it will sell a record $67 billion in notes and bonds next week and $493 billion in this quarter weakened Treasury prices, revealing market sensitivity to heavy financing.
So what is the outlook? The stimulus package is rolling through Congress like an express train packed with goodies, so an enormous deficit seems to be a given. Entitlements will go up instead of being brought under better control, auguring big future deficits. Where will the Treasury find all those trillions in a depressed world economy?
There is only one answer. The Obama administration and Congress will call on Ben Bernanke at the Fed to demand that he create more dollars -- lots and lots of them. The Fed already is talking of buying longer-term Treasurys to support the market, so it will be more of the same -- much more.
And what will be the result? Well, the product of this sort of thing is called inflation. The Fed's outpouring of dollar liquidity after the September crash replaced the liquidity lost by the financial sector and has so far caused no significant uptick in consumer prices. But the worry lies in what will happen next.
Even when the economy and the securities markets are sluggish, the Fed's financing of big federal deficits can be inflationary. We learned that in the late 1970s, when the Fed's deficit financing sent the CPI up to an annual rate of almost 15%. That confounded the Keynesian theorists who believed then, as now, that federal spending "stimulus" would restore economic health.
Inflation is the product of the demand for money as well as of the supply. And if the Fed finances federal deficits in a moribund economy, it can create more money than the economy can use. The result is "stagflation," a term coined to describe the 1970s experience. As the global economy slows and Congress relies more on the Fed to finance a huge deficit, there is a very real danger of a return of stagflation. I wonder why no one in Congress or the Obama administration has thought of that as a potential consequence of their stimulus package.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Deregulation and the Financial Panic
By Phil Gramm
The debate about the cause of the current crisis in our financial markets is important because the reforms implemented by Congress will be profoundly affected by what people believe caused the crisis.
President Bill Clinton signs the Financial Services Modernization Act of 1999.
If the cause was an unsustainable boom in house prices and irresponsible mortgage lending that corrupted the balance sheets of the world's financial institutions, reforming the housing credit system and correcting attendant problems in the financial system are called for. But if the fundamental structure of the financial system is flawed, a more profound restructuring is required.
I believe that a strong case can be made that the financial crisis stemmed from a confluence of two factors. The first was the unintended consequences of a monetary policy, developed to combat inventory cycle recessions in the last half of the 20th century, that was not well suited to the speculative bubble recession of 2001. The second was the politicization of mortgage lending.
The 2001 recession was brought on when a speculative bubble in the equity market burst, causing investment to collapse. But unlike previous postwar recessions, consumption and the housing industry remained strong at the trough of the recession. Critics of Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan say he held interest rates too low for too long, and in the process overstimulated the economy. That criticism does not capture what went wrong, however. The consequences of the Fed's monetary policy lay elsewhere.
In the inventory-cycle recessions experienced in the last half of the 20th century, involuntary build up of inventories produced retrenchment in the production chain. Workers were laid off and investment and consumption, including the housing sector, slumped.
In the 2001 recession, however, consumption and home building remained strong as investment collapsed. The Fed's sharp, prolonged reduction in interest rates stimulated a housing market that was already booming -- triggering six years of double-digit increases in housing prices during a period when the general inflation rate was low.
Buyers bought houses they couldn't afford, believing they could refinance in the future and benefit from the ongoing appreciation. Lenders assumed that even if everything else went wrong, properties could still be sold for more than they cost and the loan could be repaid. This mentality permeated the market from the originator to the holder of securitized mortgages, from the rating agency to the financial regulator.
Meanwhile, mortgage lending was becoming increasingly politicized. Community Reinvestment Act (CRA) requirements led regulators to foster looser underwriting and encouraged the making of more and more marginal loans. Looser underwriting standards spread beyond subprime to the whole housing market.
As Mr. Greenspan testified last October at a hearing of the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, "It's instructive to go back to the early stages of the subprime market, which has essentially emerged out of CRA." It was not just that CRA and federal housing policy pressured lenders to make risky loans -- but that they gave lenders the excuse and the regulatory cover.
Countrywide Financial Corp. cloaked itself in righteousness and silenced any troubled regulator by being the first mortgage lender to sign a HUD "Declaration of Fair Lending Principles and Practices." Given privileged status by Fannie Mae as a reward for "the most flexible underwriting criteria," it became the world's largest mortgage lender -- until it became the first major casualty of the financial crisis.
The 1992 Housing Bill set quotas or "targets" that Fannie and Freddie were to achieve in meeting the housing needs of low- and moderate-income Americans. In 1995 HUD raised the primary quota for low- and moderate-income housing loans from the 30% set by Congress in 1992 to 40% in 1996 and to 42% in 1997.
By the time the housing market collapsed, Fannie and Freddie faced three quotas. The first was for mortgages to individuals with below-average income, set at 56% of their overall mortgage holdings. The second targeted families with incomes at or below 60% of area median income, set at 27% of their holdings. The third targeted geographic areas deemed to be underserved, set at 35%.
The results? In 1994, 4.5% of the mortgage market was subprime and 31% of those subprime loans were securitized. By 2006, 20.1% of the entire mortgage market was subprime and 81% of those loans were securitized. The Congressional Budget Office now estimates that GSE losses will cost $240 billion in fiscal year 2009. If this crisis proves nothing else, it proves you cannot help people by lending them more money than they can pay back.
Blinded by the experience of the postwar period, where aggregate housing prices had never declined on an annual basis, and using the last 20 years as a measure of the norm, rating agencies and regulators viewed securitized mortgages, even subprime and undocumented Alt-A mortgages, as embodying little risk. It was not that regulators were not empowered; it was that they were not alarmed.
With near universal approval of regulators world-wide, these securities were injected into the arteries of the world's financial system. When the bubble burst, the financial system lost the indispensable ingredients of confidence and trust. We all know the rest of the story.
The principal alternative to the politicization of mortgage lending and bad monetary policy as causes of the financial crisis is deregulation. How deregulation caused the crisis has never been specifically explained. Nevertheless, two laws are most often blamed: the Gramm-Leach-Bliley (GLB) Act of 1999 and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act of 2000.
GLB repealed part of the Great Depression era Glass-Steagall Act, and allowed banks, securities companies and insurance companies to affiliate under a Financial Services Holding Company. It seems clear that if GLB was the problem, the crisis would have been expected to have originated in Europe where they never had Glass-Steagall requirements to begin with. Also, the financial firms that failed in this crisis, like Lehman, were the least diversified and the ones that survived, like J.P. Morgan, were the most diversified.
Moreover, GLB didn't deregulate anything. It established the Federal Reserve as a superregulator, overseeing all Financial Services Holding Companies. All activities of financial institutions continued to be regulated on a functional basis by the regulators that had regulated those activities prior to GLB.
When no evidence was ever presented to link GLB to the financial crisis -- and when former President Bill Clinton gave a spirited defense of this law, which he signed -- proponents of the deregulation thesis turned to the Commodity Futures Modernization Act (CFMA), and specifically to credit default swaps.
Yet it is amazing how well the market for credit default swaps has functioned during the financial crisis. That market has never lost liquidity and the default rate has been low, given the general state of the underlying assets. In any case, the CFMA did not deregulate credit default swaps. All swaps were given legal certainty by clarifying that swaps were not futures, but remained subject to regulation just as before based on who issued the swap and the nature of the underlying contracts.
In reality the financial "deregulation" of the last two decades has been greatly exaggerated. As the housing crisis mounted, financial regulators had more power, larger budgets and more personnel than ever. And yet, with the notable exception of Mr. Greenspan's warning about the risk posed by the massive mortgage holdings of Fannie and Freddie, regulators seemed unalarmed as the crisis grew. There is absolutely no evidence that if financial regulators had had more resources or more authority that anything would have been different.
Since politicization of the mortgage market was a primary cause of this crisis, we should be especially careful to prevent the politicization of the banks that have been given taxpayer assistance. Did Citi really change its view on mortgage cram-downs or was it pressured? How much pressure was really applied to force Bank of America to go through with the Merrill acquisition?
Restrictions on executive compensation are good fun for politicians, but they are just one step removed from politicians telling banks who to lend to and for what. We have been down that road before, and we know where it leads.
Finally, it should give us pause in responding to the financial crisis of today to realize that this crisis itself was in part an unintended consequence of the monetary policy we employed to deal with the previous recession. Surely, unintended consequences are a real danger when the monetary base has been bloated by a doubling of the Federal Reserve's balance sheet, and the federal deficit seems destined to exceed $1.7 trillion.
The debate about the cause of the current crisis in our financial markets is important because the reforms implemented by Congress will be profoundly affected by what people believe caused the crisis.
President Bill Clinton signs the Financial Services Modernization Act of 1999.
If the cause was an unsustainable boom in house prices and irresponsible mortgage lending that corrupted the balance sheets of the world's financial institutions, reforming the housing credit system and correcting attendant problems in the financial system are called for. But if the fundamental structure of the financial system is flawed, a more profound restructuring is required.
I believe that a strong case can be made that the financial crisis stemmed from a confluence of two factors. The first was the unintended consequences of a monetary policy, developed to combat inventory cycle recessions in the last half of the 20th century, that was not well suited to the speculative bubble recession of 2001. The second was the politicization of mortgage lending.
The 2001 recession was brought on when a speculative bubble in the equity market burst, causing investment to collapse. But unlike previous postwar recessions, consumption and the housing industry remained strong at the trough of the recession. Critics of Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan say he held interest rates too low for too long, and in the process overstimulated the economy. That criticism does not capture what went wrong, however. The consequences of the Fed's monetary policy lay elsewhere.
In the inventory-cycle recessions experienced in the last half of the 20th century, involuntary build up of inventories produced retrenchment in the production chain. Workers were laid off and investment and consumption, including the housing sector, slumped.
In the 2001 recession, however, consumption and home building remained strong as investment collapsed. The Fed's sharp, prolonged reduction in interest rates stimulated a housing market that was already booming -- triggering six years of double-digit increases in housing prices during a period when the general inflation rate was low.
Buyers bought houses they couldn't afford, believing they could refinance in the future and benefit from the ongoing appreciation. Lenders assumed that even if everything else went wrong, properties could still be sold for more than they cost and the loan could be repaid. This mentality permeated the market from the originator to the holder of securitized mortgages, from the rating agency to the financial regulator.
Meanwhile, mortgage lending was becoming increasingly politicized. Community Reinvestment Act (CRA) requirements led regulators to foster looser underwriting and encouraged the making of more and more marginal loans. Looser underwriting standards spread beyond subprime to the whole housing market.
As Mr. Greenspan testified last October at a hearing of the House Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, "It's instructive to go back to the early stages of the subprime market, which has essentially emerged out of CRA." It was not just that CRA and federal housing policy pressured lenders to make risky loans -- but that they gave lenders the excuse and the regulatory cover.
Countrywide Financial Corp. cloaked itself in righteousness and silenced any troubled regulator by being the first mortgage lender to sign a HUD "Declaration of Fair Lending Principles and Practices." Given privileged status by Fannie Mae as a reward for "the most flexible underwriting criteria," it became the world's largest mortgage lender -- until it became the first major casualty of the financial crisis.
The 1992 Housing Bill set quotas or "targets" that Fannie and Freddie were to achieve in meeting the housing needs of low- and moderate-income Americans. In 1995 HUD raised the primary quota for low- and moderate-income housing loans from the 30% set by Congress in 1992 to 40% in 1996 and to 42% in 1997.
By the time the housing market collapsed, Fannie and Freddie faced three quotas. The first was for mortgages to individuals with below-average income, set at 56% of their overall mortgage holdings. The second targeted families with incomes at or below 60% of area median income, set at 27% of their holdings. The third targeted geographic areas deemed to be underserved, set at 35%.
The results? In 1994, 4.5% of the mortgage market was subprime and 31% of those subprime loans were securitized. By 2006, 20.1% of the entire mortgage market was subprime and 81% of those loans were securitized. The Congressional Budget Office now estimates that GSE losses will cost $240 billion in fiscal year 2009. If this crisis proves nothing else, it proves you cannot help people by lending them more money than they can pay back.
Blinded by the experience of the postwar period, where aggregate housing prices had never declined on an annual basis, and using the last 20 years as a measure of the norm, rating agencies and regulators viewed securitized mortgages, even subprime and undocumented Alt-A mortgages, as embodying little risk. It was not that regulators were not empowered; it was that they were not alarmed.
With near universal approval of regulators world-wide, these securities were injected into the arteries of the world's financial system. When the bubble burst, the financial system lost the indispensable ingredients of confidence and trust. We all know the rest of the story.
The principal alternative to the politicization of mortgage lending and bad monetary policy as causes of the financial crisis is deregulation. How deregulation caused the crisis has never been specifically explained. Nevertheless, two laws are most often blamed: the Gramm-Leach-Bliley (GLB) Act of 1999 and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act of 2000.
GLB repealed part of the Great Depression era Glass-Steagall Act, and allowed banks, securities companies and insurance companies to affiliate under a Financial Services Holding Company. It seems clear that if GLB was the problem, the crisis would have been expected to have originated in Europe where they never had Glass-Steagall requirements to begin with. Also, the financial firms that failed in this crisis, like Lehman, were the least diversified and the ones that survived, like J.P. Morgan, were the most diversified.
Moreover, GLB didn't deregulate anything. It established the Federal Reserve as a superregulator, overseeing all Financial Services Holding Companies. All activities of financial institutions continued to be regulated on a functional basis by the regulators that had regulated those activities prior to GLB.
When no evidence was ever presented to link GLB to the financial crisis -- and when former President Bill Clinton gave a spirited defense of this law, which he signed -- proponents of the deregulation thesis turned to the Commodity Futures Modernization Act (CFMA), and specifically to credit default swaps.
Yet it is amazing how well the market for credit default swaps has functioned during the financial crisis. That market has never lost liquidity and the default rate has been low, given the general state of the underlying assets. In any case, the CFMA did not deregulate credit default swaps. All swaps were given legal certainty by clarifying that swaps were not futures, but remained subject to regulation just as before based on who issued the swap and the nature of the underlying contracts.
In reality the financial "deregulation" of the last two decades has been greatly exaggerated. As the housing crisis mounted, financial regulators had more power, larger budgets and more personnel than ever. And yet, with the notable exception of Mr. Greenspan's warning about the risk posed by the massive mortgage holdings of Fannie and Freddie, regulators seemed unalarmed as the crisis grew. There is absolutely no evidence that if financial regulators had had more resources or more authority that anything would have been different.
Since politicization of the mortgage market was a primary cause of this crisis, we should be especially careful to prevent the politicization of the banks that have been given taxpayer assistance. Did Citi really change its view on mortgage cram-downs or was it pressured? How much pressure was really applied to force Bank of America to go through with the Merrill acquisition?
Restrictions on executive compensation are good fun for politicians, but they are just one step removed from politicians telling banks who to lend to and for what. We have been down that road before, and we know where it leads.
Finally, it should give us pause in responding to the financial crisis of today to realize that this crisis itself was in part an unintended consequence of the monetary policy we employed to deal with the previous recession. Surely, unintended consequences are a real danger when the monetary base has been bloated by a doubling of the Federal Reserve's balance sheet, and the federal deficit seems destined to exceed $1.7 trillion.
How Government Created the Financial Crisis
By JOHN B. TAYLOR
Many are calling for a 9/11-type commission to investigate the financial crisis. Any such investigation should not rule out government itself as a major culprit. My research shows that government actions and interventions -- not any inherent failure or instability of the private economy -- caused, prolonged and dramatically worsened the crisis.
The classic explanation of financial crises is that they are caused by excesses -- frequently monetary excesses -- which lead to a boom and an inevitable bust. This crisis was no different: A housing boom followed by a bust led to defaults, the implosion of mortgages and mortgage-related securities at financial institutions, and resulting financial turmoil.
Monetary excesses were the main cause of the boom. The Fed held its target interest rate, especially in 2003-2005, well below known monetary guidelines that say what good policy should be based on historical experience. Keeping interest rates on the track that worked well in the past two decades, rather than keeping rates so low, would have prevented the boom and the bust. Researchers at the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development have provided corroborating evidence from other countries: The greater the degree of monetary excess in a country, the larger was the housing boom.
The effects of the boom and bust were amplified by several complicating factors including the use of subprime and adjustable-rate mortgages, which led to excessive risk taking. There is also evidence the excessive risk taking was encouraged by the excessively low interest rates. Delinquency rates and foreclosure rates are inversely related to housing price inflation. These rates declined rapidly during the years housing prices rose rapidly, likely throwing mortgage underwriting programs off track and misleading many people.
Adjustable-rate, subprime and other mortgages were packed into mortgage-backed securities of great complexity. Rating agencies underestimated the risk of these securities, either because of a lack of competition, poor accountability, or most likely the inherent difficulty in assessing risk due to the complexity.
Other government actions were at play: The government-sponsored enterprises Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were encouraged to expand and buy mortgage-backed securities, including those formed with the risky subprime mortgages.
Government action also helped prolong the crisis. Consider that the financial crisis became acute on Aug. 9 and 10, 2007, when money-market interest rates rose dramatically. Interest rate spreads, such as the difference between three-month and overnight interbank loans, jumped to unprecedented levels.
Diagnosing the reason for this sudden increase was essential for determining what type of policy response was appropriate. If liquidity was the problem, then providing more liquidity by making borrowing easier at the Federal Reserve discount window, or opening new windows or facilities, would be appropriate. But if counterparty risk was behind the sudden rise in money-market interest rates, then a direct focus on the quality and transparency of the bank's balance sheets would be appropriate.
Early on, policy makers misdiagnosed the crisis as one of liquidity, and prescribed the wrong treatment.
To provide more liquidity, the Fed created the Term Auction Facility (TAF) in December 2007. Its main aim was to reduce interest rate spreads in the money markets and increase the flow of credit. But the TAF did not seem to make much difference. If the reason for the spread was counterparty risk as distinct from liquidity, this is not surprising.
Another early policy response was the Economic Stimulus Act of 2008, passed in February. The major part of this package was to send cash totaling over $100 billion to individuals and families so they would have more to spend and thus jump-start consumption and the economy. But people spent little if anything of the temporary rebate (as predicted by Milton Friedman's permanent income theory, which holds that temporary as distinct from permanent increases in income do not lead to significant increases in consumption). Consumption was not jump-started.
A third policy response was the very sharp reduction in the target federal-funds rate to 2% in April 2008 from 5.25% in August 2007. This was sharper than monetary guidelines such as my own Taylor Rule would prescribe. The most noticeable effect of this rate cut was a sharp depreciation of the dollar and a large increase in oil prices. After the start of the crisis, oil prices doubled to over $140 in July 2008, before plummeting back down as expectations of world economic growth declined. But by then the damage of the high oil prices had been done.
After a year of such mistaken prescriptions, the crisis suddenly worsened in September and October 2008. We experienced a serious credit crunch, seriously weakening an economy already suffering from the lingering impact of the oil price hike and housing bust.
Many have argued that the reason for this bad turn was the government's decision not to prevent the bankruptcy of Lehman Brothers over the weekend of Sept. 13 and 14. A study of this event suggests that the answer is more complicated and lay elsewhere.
While interest rate spreads increased slightly on Monday, Sept. 15, they stayed in the range observed during the previous year, and remained in that range through the rest of the week. On Friday, Sept. 19, the Treasury announced a rescue package, though not its size or the details. Over the weekend the package was put together, and on Tuesday, Sept. 23, Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke and Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson testified before the Senate Banking Committee. They introduced the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP), saying that it would be $700 billion in size. A short draft of legislation was provided, with no mention of oversight and few restrictions on the use of the funds.
The two men were questioned intensely and the reaction was quite negative, judging by the large volume of critical mail received by many members of Congress. It was following this testimony that one really begins to see the crisis deepening and interest rate spreads widening.
The realization by the public that the government's intervention plan had not been fully thought through, and the official story that the economy was tanking, likely led to the panic seen in the next few weeks. And this was likely amplified by the ad hoc decisions to support some financial institutions and not others and unclear, seemingly fear-based explanations of programs to address the crisis. What was the rationale for intervening with Bear Stearns, then not with Lehman, and then again with AIG? What would guide the operations of the TARP?
It did not have to be this way. To prevent misguided actions in the future, it is urgent that we return to sound principles of monetary policy, basing government interventions on clearly stated diagnoses and predictable frameworks for government actions.
Massive responses with little explanation will probably make things worse. That is the lesson from this crisis so far.
Many are calling for a 9/11-type commission to investigate the financial crisis. Any such investigation should not rule out government itself as a major culprit. My research shows that government actions and interventions -- not any inherent failure or instability of the private economy -- caused, prolonged and dramatically worsened the crisis.
The classic explanation of financial crises is that they are caused by excesses -- frequently monetary excesses -- which lead to a boom and an inevitable bust. This crisis was no different: A housing boom followed by a bust led to defaults, the implosion of mortgages and mortgage-related securities at financial institutions, and resulting financial turmoil.
Monetary excesses were the main cause of the boom. The Fed held its target interest rate, especially in 2003-2005, well below known monetary guidelines that say what good policy should be based on historical experience. Keeping interest rates on the track that worked well in the past two decades, rather than keeping rates so low, would have prevented the boom and the bust. Researchers at the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development have provided corroborating evidence from other countries: The greater the degree of monetary excess in a country, the larger was the housing boom.
The effects of the boom and bust were amplified by several complicating factors including the use of subprime and adjustable-rate mortgages, which led to excessive risk taking. There is also evidence the excessive risk taking was encouraged by the excessively low interest rates. Delinquency rates and foreclosure rates are inversely related to housing price inflation. These rates declined rapidly during the years housing prices rose rapidly, likely throwing mortgage underwriting programs off track and misleading many people.
Adjustable-rate, subprime and other mortgages were packed into mortgage-backed securities of great complexity. Rating agencies underestimated the risk of these securities, either because of a lack of competition, poor accountability, or most likely the inherent difficulty in assessing risk due to the complexity.
Other government actions were at play: The government-sponsored enterprises Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were encouraged to expand and buy mortgage-backed securities, including those formed with the risky subprime mortgages.
Government action also helped prolong the crisis. Consider that the financial crisis became acute on Aug. 9 and 10, 2007, when money-market interest rates rose dramatically. Interest rate spreads, such as the difference between three-month and overnight interbank loans, jumped to unprecedented levels.
Diagnosing the reason for this sudden increase was essential for determining what type of policy response was appropriate. If liquidity was the problem, then providing more liquidity by making borrowing easier at the Federal Reserve discount window, or opening new windows or facilities, would be appropriate. But if counterparty risk was behind the sudden rise in money-market interest rates, then a direct focus on the quality and transparency of the bank's balance sheets would be appropriate.
Early on, policy makers misdiagnosed the crisis as one of liquidity, and prescribed the wrong treatment.
To provide more liquidity, the Fed created the Term Auction Facility (TAF) in December 2007. Its main aim was to reduce interest rate spreads in the money markets and increase the flow of credit. But the TAF did not seem to make much difference. If the reason for the spread was counterparty risk as distinct from liquidity, this is not surprising.
Another early policy response was the Economic Stimulus Act of 2008, passed in February. The major part of this package was to send cash totaling over $100 billion to individuals and families so they would have more to spend and thus jump-start consumption and the economy. But people spent little if anything of the temporary rebate (as predicted by Milton Friedman's permanent income theory, which holds that temporary as distinct from permanent increases in income do not lead to significant increases in consumption). Consumption was not jump-started.
A third policy response was the very sharp reduction in the target federal-funds rate to 2% in April 2008 from 5.25% in August 2007. This was sharper than monetary guidelines such as my own Taylor Rule would prescribe. The most noticeable effect of this rate cut was a sharp depreciation of the dollar and a large increase in oil prices. After the start of the crisis, oil prices doubled to over $140 in July 2008, before plummeting back down as expectations of world economic growth declined. But by then the damage of the high oil prices had been done.
After a year of such mistaken prescriptions, the crisis suddenly worsened in September and October 2008. We experienced a serious credit crunch, seriously weakening an economy already suffering from the lingering impact of the oil price hike and housing bust.
Many have argued that the reason for this bad turn was the government's decision not to prevent the bankruptcy of Lehman Brothers over the weekend of Sept. 13 and 14. A study of this event suggests that the answer is more complicated and lay elsewhere.
While interest rate spreads increased slightly on Monday, Sept. 15, they stayed in the range observed during the previous year, and remained in that range through the rest of the week. On Friday, Sept. 19, the Treasury announced a rescue package, though not its size or the details. Over the weekend the package was put together, and on Tuesday, Sept. 23, Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke and Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson testified before the Senate Banking Committee. They introduced the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP), saying that it would be $700 billion in size. A short draft of legislation was provided, with no mention of oversight and few restrictions on the use of the funds.
The two men were questioned intensely and the reaction was quite negative, judging by the large volume of critical mail received by many members of Congress. It was following this testimony that one really begins to see the crisis deepening and interest rate spreads widening.
The realization by the public that the government's intervention plan had not been fully thought through, and the official story that the economy was tanking, likely led to the panic seen in the next few weeks. And this was likely amplified by the ad hoc decisions to support some financial institutions and not others and unclear, seemingly fear-based explanations of programs to address the crisis. What was the rationale for intervening with Bear Stearns, then not with Lehman, and then again with AIG? What would guide the operations of the TARP?
It did not have to be this way. To prevent misguided actions in the future, it is urgent that we return to sound principles of monetary policy, basing government interventions on clearly stated diagnoses and predictable frameworks for government actions.
Massive responses with little explanation will probably make things worse. That is the lesson from this crisis so far.
Bank Bailout Plan Revamped
Source: WSJ
Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner is expected to announce that the government will become a partner with the private sector to purchase banks' troubled assets, according to people familiar with the matter.
The plan for a so-called aggregator bank, a variation on a theme that Obama administration officials have wrestled with for weeks, is among four main components of Mr. Geithner's bailout revamp, which he is expected to announce Tuesday.
The effort to restore confidence to the financial system comprises a broad range of tools and government agencies. It includes fresh cash injections into banks; new programs to help possibly 2.5 million struggling homeowners; a significant expansion of a Federal Reserve program designed to jump-start consumer lending; and, lastly, the mechanism to allow banks to get rid of bad assets.
The administration's plans have evolved over the past several weeks as it has considered and discarded a host of ideas, with financial markets anxiously awaiting details. Mr. Geithner had planned an announcement Monday but delayed it a day to allow the focus to remain on the stimulus bill in Congress.
The aggregator bank, which some refer to as a "bad bank," would be designed to solve a fundamental challenge: How can banks purge themselves of their bad bets without worsening their weakened condition?
The entity would be seeded with funds from the $700 billion financial-sector bailout fund, but the idea is that most financing would come from the private sector. Some critical elements remained unclear, including exactly how the government would entice investors to participate in the private bank, given that they can already buy soured assets on the open market if they want to. The government will likely offer some type of incentive, such as limiting the risk associated with buying the assets.
The administration hasn't settled on exactly how it will work and intends to hash out the structure with the private sector over the next few weeks, the people familiar with the matter said. Investors would likely buy a stake in the entity, which would then buy mortgage-backed securities and other troubled assets.
The government would also be an investor, but the terms aren't yet decided. The entity might also raise funds by selling government-backed debt or through financing from the Fed, the people familiar with the matter said.
The Obama administration views the private bank as a way to get around the thorny issue of having to determine a price for soured assets such as certain mortgage-backed securities, many of which are illiquid and hard to value. The government has long worried that if it bought toxic assets and paid too much for them, banks would benefit at the expense of taxpayers -- while if the price was too low, it would force banks to take further write-downs and exacerbate their woes.
The Treasury's working theory for the government/private-sector partnership is that investors wouldn't overpay, because if they did, they'd stand to lose money; but they also wouldn't underpay, since the selling banks wouldn't be willing to part with their assets too cheaply.
Bankers and investors cautiously welcomed the idea, saying it could help avoid more large-scale federal intrusions into the financial sector while tackling the bad-asset problem. Brian Sterling, co-head of investment banking for advisory firm Sandler O'Neill & Partners, called the idea an "interesting tool" worth exploring.
"We think that anything that helps facilitate taking nonperforming assets off bank balance sheets or putting a ringfence around them is a good thing," Mr. Sterling said. Some investors expressed concern about joining with the government in such an arrangement if the rules of engagement weren't guaranteed to remain consistent.
Executives at J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. have been cool to the idea of selling assets into a "bad bank" structure. They believe it may be wiser to hold on to sour assets that have already been written down, in the hope the bank can recoup losses when markets revive.
Many of the administration's ideas appear to build on policies begun under former Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, whose handling of the bailout helped tar its reputation among lawmakers and the public. Mr. Paulson's plan initially envisioned buying toxic assets but shifted to having the government inject cash into banks in return for preferred stock. Many of the housing ideas under consideration also stem from work done in the Bush administration, illustrating the constrained range of options.
Mr. Geithner is expected to sell the program as a break with the past, pitching it as a comprehensive framework to address the root causes of the financial crisis: defaulting loans and soured assets that are shaking confidence in banks.
Other likely elements of the plan, subject to last-minute changes, include:
An expansion of the Fed's Term Asset-Backed Securities Loan Facility to include assets beyond the student-loan, auto-loan and credit-card debt it was set up to absorb. Under the revamp, the so-called TALF is likely to buy securities backed by commercial real estate and possibly other assets as well. The program was set up during the Bush administration to spur the consumer-loan market by providing financing for investors to buy securities backed by such loans.
A second round of cash injections in financial firms but with tougher terms, such as a requirement to modify troubled mortgages and better track the federal funds. The government is looking to get money into banks by buying preferred shares that convert into common shares in seven years; the idea is to avoid diluting current shareholders' stakes while helping banks better withstand losses. The Treasury may also allow banks that have already received capital to convert the Treasury's preferred shares to common stock over time.
Dow Jones Newswires columnist Simon Constable finds out from MarketBeat blogger David Gaffen what U.S. Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner is expected to unveil in his new plans to fix the financial crisis.
Giving the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. power to help dismantle troubled financial firms beyond the depository institutions over which it now has authority. This could require legislation.
Mr. Geithner, his predecessor Mr. Paulson and Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke have said there needs to be a government entity empowered to wind down failed financial institutions that aren't banks. Regulators have said one problem the government faced when Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. and American International Group Inc. ran into trouble was that no federal body had authority to step in and steer the firms toward an orderly demise.
Having the FDIC guarantee a wider range of debt that banks issue to fund loans is also a likely element of the plan, said people familiar with the matter. The guarantees could help free up credit to both companies and consumers. Currently, the FDIC temporarily backs certain debt with a three-year maturity. Government officials could increase this to maturities up to 10 years.
More help for homeowners, at a cost of between $50 billion and $100 billion. The administration is expected to create national standards for loan modifications that would be adopted by mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. The plan could include a mechanism to determine the value of homes facing foreclosure, which could speed negotiations with borrowers. The difficulty of valuing such homes is one reason many loan-modification efforts have stalled.
A related move would see the government using taxpayer dollars to give mortgage companies an incentive to modify loans. One idea would help reduce interest rates for consumers by having the government match mortgage companies' interest-rate reductions to some degree. For instance, if a mortgage company agreed to shave one point off the rate on a loan, the government might match that so the rate would be reduced by two points. Mr. Geithner is also expected to express support for legislation that would allow judges to modify the terms of mortgages in bankruptcy court.
A public-relations makeover. To improve the bailout's poor image, which owes partly to the shifting nature of the government's remedies, the administration is considering renaming the $700 billion Troubled Asset Relief Program and making it independent of the Treasury. The U.S. is going to announce new terms and conditions for companies that receive or have already taken government aid -- in addition to the new executive-compensation limits announced this week -- including a demand that they report how the money is being spent.
Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner is expected to announce that the government will become a partner with the private sector to purchase banks' troubled assets, according to people familiar with the matter.
The plan for a so-called aggregator bank, a variation on a theme that Obama administration officials have wrestled with for weeks, is among four main components of Mr. Geithner's bailout revamp, which he is expected to announce Tuesday.
The effort to restore confidence to the financial system comprises a broad range of tools and government agencies. It includes fresh cash injections into banks; new programs to help possibly 2.5 million struggling homeowners; a significant expansion of a Federal Reserve program designed to jump-start consumer lending; and, lastly, the mechanism to allow banks to get rid of bad assets.
The administration's plans have evolved over the past several weeks as it has considered and discarded a host of ideas, with financial markets anxiously awaiting details. Mr. Geithner had planned an announcement Monday but delayed it a day to allow the focus to remain on the stimulus bill in Congress.
The aggregator bank, which some refer to as a "bad bank," would be designed to solve a fundamental challenge: How can banks purge themselves of their bad bets without worsening their weakened condition?
The entity would be seeded with funds from the $700 billion financial-sector bailout fund, but the idea is that most financing would come from the private sector. Some critical elements remained unclear, including exactly how the government would entice investors to participate in the private bank, given that they can already buy soured assets on the open market if they want to. The government will likely offer some type of incentive, such as limiting the risk associated with buying the assets.
The administration hasn't settled on exactly how it will work and intends to hash out the structure with the private sector over the next few weeks, the people familiar with the matter said. Investors would likely buy a stake in the entity, which would then buy mortgage-backed securities and other troubled assets.
The government would also be an investor, but the terms aren't yet decided. The entity might also raise funds by selling government-backed debt or through financing from the Fed, the people familiar with the matter said.
The Obama administration views the private bank as a way to get around the thorny issue of having to determine a price for soured assets such as certain mortgage-backed securities, many of which are illiquid and hard to value. The government has long worried that if it bought toxic assets and paid too much for them, banks would benefit at the expense of taxpayers -- while if the price was too low, it would force banks to take further write-downs and exacerbate their woes.
The Treasury's working theory for the government/private-sector partnership is that investors wouldn't overpay, because if they did, they'd stand to lose money; but they also wouldn't underpay, since the selling banks wouldn't be willing to part with their assets too cheaply.
Bankers and investors cautiously welcomed the idea, saying it could help avoid more large-scale federal intrusions into the financial sector while tackling the bad-asset problem. Brian Sterling, co-head of investment banking for advisory firm Sandler O'Neill & Partners, called the idea an "interesting tool" worth exploring.
"We think that anything that helps facilitate taking nonperforming assets off bank balance sheets or putting a ringfence around them is a good thing," Mr. Sterling said. Some investors expressed concern about joining with the government in such an arrangement if the rules of engagement weren't guaranteed to remain consistent.
Executives at J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. have been cool to the idea of selling assets into a "bad bank" structure. They believe it may be wiser to hold on to sour assets that have already been written down, in the hope the bank can recoup losses when markets revive.
Many of the administration's ideas appear to build on policies begun under former Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, whose handling of the bailout helped tar its reputation among lawmakers and the public. Mr. Paulson's plan initially envisioned buying toxic assets but shifted to having the government inject cash into banks in return for preferred stock. Many of the housing ideas under consideration also stem from work done in the Bush administration, illustrating the constrained range of options.
Mr. Geithner is expected to sell the program as a break with the past, pitching it as a comprehensive framework to address the root causes of the financial crisis: defaulting loans and soured assets that are shaking confidence in banks.
Other likely elements of the plan, subject to last-minute changes, include:
An expansion of the Fed's Term Asset-Backed Securities Loan Facility to include assets beyond the student-loan, auto-loan and credit-card debt it was set up to absorb. Under the revamp, the so-called TALF is likely to buy securities backed by commercial real estate and possibly other assets as well. The program was set up during the Bush administration to spur the consumer-loan market by providing financing for investors to buy securities backed by such loans.
A second round of cash injections in financial firms but with tougher terms, such as a requirement to modify troubled mortgages and better track the federal funds. The government is looking to get money into banks by buying preferred shares that convert into common shares in seven years; the idea is to avoid diluting current shareholders' stakes while helping banks better withstand losses. The Treasury may also allow banks that have already received capital to convert the Treasury's preferred shares to common stock over time.
Dow Jones Newswires columnist Simon Constable finds out from MarketBeat blogger David Gaffen what U.S. Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner is expected to unveil in his new plans to fix the financial crisis.
Giving the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. power to help dismantle troubled financial firms beyond the depository institutions over which it now has authority. This could require legislation.
Mr. Geithner, his predecessor Mr. Paulson and Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke have said there needs to be a government entity empowered to wind down failed financial institutions that aren't banks. Regulators have said one problem the government faced when Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. and American International Group Inc. ran into trouble was that no federal body had authority to step in and steer the firms toward an orderly demise.
Having the FDIC guarantee a wider range of debt that banks issue to fund loans is also a likely element of the plan, said people familiar with the matter. The guarantees could help free up credit to both companies and consumers. Currently, the FDIC temporarily backs certain debt with a three-year maturity. Government officials could increase this to maturities up to 10 years.
More help for homeowners, at a cost of between $50 billion and $100 billion. The administration is expected to create national standards for loan modifications that would be adopted by mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. The plan could include a mechanism to determine the value of homes facing foreclosure, which could speed negotiations with borrowers. The difficulty of valuing such homes is one reason many loan-modification efforts have stalled.
A related move would see the government using taxpayer dollars to give mortgage companies an incentive to modify loans. One idea would help reduce interest rates for consumers by having the government match mortgage companies' interest-rate reductions to some degree. For instance, if a mortgage company agreed to shave one point off the rate on a loan, the government might match that so the rate would be reduced by two points. Mr. Geithner is also expected to express support for legislation that would allow judges to modify the terms of mortgages in bankruptcy court.
A public-relations makeover. To improve the bailout's poor image, which owes partly to the shifting nature of the government's remedies, the administration is considering renaming the $700 billion Troubled Asset Relief Program and making it independent of the Treasury. The U.S. is going to announce new terms and conditions for companies that receive or have already taken government aid -- in addition to the new executive-compensation limits announced this week -- including a demand that they report how the money is being spent.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Greed is Good
Source: WSJ
1973 was a terrible year on Wall Street. An unexpected crisis in the Middle East led to a quadrupling of oil prices and a serious global economic recession. The president was in serious trouble with Watergate. The S&P 500 index dropped 50% (after 23 years of rising markets), and much of Wall Street fell deeply into the red. There were no profits, and therefore no bonuses.
I was a 35-year-old, nonpartner investment banker then and was horrified to learn that my annual take-home pay would be limited to my small salary, which accounted for about a quarter of my previous year's income. Fortunately the partners decided to pay a small bonus out of their capital that year to help employees like me get by. The next year was no better. Several colleagues with good prospects left the firm and the industry for good. We learned that strong pay-for-performance compensation incentives could cut both ways.
Many wondered if that was still the case last week, when New York State Comptroller Thomas DiNapoli released an estimate that the "securities industry" paid its New York City employees bonuses of $18 billion in 2008, leading to a public outcry. Lost in the denunciations were the powerful benefits of the bonus system, which helped make the U.S. the global leader in financial services for decades. Bonuses are an important and necessary part of the fast-moving, high-pressure industry, and its employees flourish with strong performance incentives.
There is also a fundamental misunderstanding of how bonuses are paid that is further inflaming public opinion. The system has become more complex than most people know, and involves forms of bonuses that are not entirely discretionary.
The anger at Wall Street only grew at the news that Merrill Lynch, after reporting $15 billion of losses, had rushed to pay $4 billion in bonuses on the eve of its merger with Bank of America. Because Merrill Lynch and Bank of America were receiving substantial government funds to keep them afloat, the subject became part of the public business. The idea that the banks had paid out taxpayers' funds in undeserved bonuses to employees, together with a leaked report of John Thain's spending $1 million to redecorate his office, understandably provoked a blast of public outrage against Wall Street. The issue was so hot that President Barack Obama interrupted his duties to call the bonuses "shameful" and the "height of irresponsibility." Then, on Wednesday, he announced a new set of rules for those seeking "exceptional" assistance from the Troubled Asset Relief Program in the future that would limit cash compensation to $500,000 and restrict severance pay and frills, perks and boondoggles.
Lindsay Holmes
In the excitement some of the facts got mixed up. Mr. DiNapoli's estimate included many firms that were not involved with the bailout, and only a few that were. Merrill's actions were approved by its board early in December and consented to by Bank of America. But the basic point is that, despite the dreadful year that Wall Street experienced in 2008, some questionable bonuses were paid to already well-off employees, and that set off the outrage.
Many Americans believe that any bonuses for top executives paid by rescued banks would constitute "excess compensation," a phrase used by Mr. Obama. But no Wall Street CEO taking federal money received a bonus in 2008, and the same was true for most of their senior colleagues. Not only did those responsible receive no bonuses, the value of the stock in their companies paid to them as part of prior-year bonuses dropped by 70% or more, leaving them, collectively, with billions of dollars of unrealized losses.
That's pay for performance, isn't it?
"Wall Street" has always been the quintessential, if ill-defined, symbol of American capitalism. In reality, Wall Street today includes many large banks, investment groups and other institutions, some not even located in the U.S. It has become a euphemism for the global capital markets industry -- one in which the combined market value of all stocks and bonds outstanding in the world topped $140 trillion at the end of 2007. Well less than half of the value of this combined market value is represented by American securities, but American banks lead the world in its origination and distribution. Wall Street is one of America's great export industries.
The market thrives on locating new opportunities, providing innovation and a willingness to take risks. It is also, regrettably, subject to what the economist John Maynard Keynes called "animal spirits," the psychological factors that make markets irrational when going up or down. For example, America has enjoyed a bonus it didn't deserve in its free-wheeling participation in the housing market, before it became a bubble. Despite great efforts by regulators to manage systemic risk, there have been market failures. The causes of the current market failure, which is the real object of the public anger, go well beyond the Wall Street compensation system -- but compensation has been one of them.
The capital-markets industry operates in a very sophisticated and competitive environment, one that responds best to strong performance incentives. People who flourish in this environment are those who want to be paid and advanced based on their individual and their team's performance, and are willing to take the risk that they might be displaced by someone better or that mistakes or downturns may cause them to be laid off or their firms to fail. Indeed, since 1970, 28 major banks or investment banks have failed or been taken up into mergers, and thousands have come and gone into the industry without making much money. Those that have survived the changing fortunes of the industry have done very well -- so well, in fact, that they appear to have become symbolic of greedy and reckless behavior.
The Wall Street compensation system has evolved from the 1970s, when most of the firms were private partnerships, owned by partners who paid out a designated share of the firm's profits to nonpartner employees while dividing up the rest for themselves. The nonpartners had to earn their keep every year, but the partners' percentage ownerships in the firms were also reset every year or two. On the whole, everyone's performance was continuously evaluated and rewarded or penalized. The system provided great incentives to create profits, but also, because the partners' own money was involved, to avoid great risk.
The industry became much more competitive when commercial banks were allowed into it. The competition tended to commoditize the basic fee businesses, and drove firms more deeply into trading. As improving technologies created great arrays of new instruments to be traded, the partnerships went public to gain access to larger funding sources, and to spread out the risks of the business. As they did so, each firm tried to maintain its partnership "culture" and compensation system as best it could, but it was difficult to do so.
In time there was significant erosion of the simple principles of the partnership days. Compensation for top managers followed the trend into excess set by other public companies. Competition for talent made recruitment and retention more difficult and thus tilted negotiating power further in favor of stars. Henry Paulson, when he was CEO of Goldman Sachs, once remarked that Wall Street was like other businesses, where 80% of the profits were provided by 20% of the people, but the 20% changed a lot from year to year and market to market. You had to pay everyone well because you never knew what next year would bring, and because there was always someone trying to poach your best trained people, whom you didn't want to lose even if they were not superstars. Consequently, bonuses in general became more automatic and less tied to superior performance. Compensation became the industry's largest expense, accounting for about 50% of net revenues. Warren Buffett, when he was an investor in Salomon Brothers in the late 1980s, once noted that he wasn't sure why anyone wanted to be an investor in a business where management took out half the revenues before shareholders got anything. But he recently invested $5 billion in Goldman Sachs, so he must have gotten over the problem.
As firms became part of large, conglomerate financial institutions, the sense of being a part of a special cohort of similarly acculturated colleagues was lost, and the performance of shares and options in giant multi-line holding companies rarely correlated with an individual's idea of his own performance over time. Nevertheless, the system as a whole worked reasonably well for years in providing rewards for success and penalties for failures, and still works even in difficult markets such as this one.
At junior levels, bonuses tend to be based on how well the individual is seen to be developing. As employees progress, their compensation is based less on individual performance and more on their role as a manager or team leader. For all professional employees the annual bonus represents a very large amount of the person's take-home pay. At the middle levels, bonuses are set after firm-wide, interdepartmental negotiation sessions that attempt to allocate the firm's compensation pool based on a combination of performance and potential.
1973 was a terrible year on Wall Street. An unexpected crisis in the Middle East led to a quadrupling of oil prices and a serious global economic recession. The president was in serious trouble with Watergate. The S&P 500 index dropped 50% (after 23 years of rising markets), and much of Wall Street fell deeply into the red. There were no profits, and therefore no bonuses.
I was a 35-year-old, nonpartner investment banker then and was horrified to learn that my annual take-home pay would be limited to my small salary, which accounted for about a quarter of my previous year's income. Fortunately the partners decided to pay a small bonus out of their capital that year to help employees like me get by. The next year was no better. Several colleagues with good prospects left the firm and the industry for good. We learned that strong pay-for-performance compensation incentives could cut both ways.
Many wondered if that was still the case last week, when New York State Comptroller Thomas DiNapoli released an estimate that the "securities industry" paid its New York City employees bonuses of $18 billion in 2008, leading to a public outcry. Lost in the denunciations were the powerful benefits of the bonus system, which helped make the U.S. the global leader in financial services for decades. Bonuses are an important and necessary part of the fast-moving, high-pressure industry, and its employees flourish with strong performance incentives.
There is also a fundamental misunderstanding of how bonuses are paid that is further inflaming public opinion. The system has become more complex than most people know, and involves forms of bonuses that are not entirely discretionary.
The anger at Wall Street only grew at the news that Merrill Lynch, after reporting $15 billion of losses, had rushed to pay $4 billion in bonuses on the eve of its merger with Bank of America. Because Merrill Lynch and Bank of America were receiving substantial government funds to keep them afloat, the subject became part of the public business. The idea that the banks had paid out taxpayers' funds in undeserved bonuses to employees, together with a leaked report of John Thain's spending $1 million to redecorate his office, understandably provoked a blast of public outrage against Wall Street. The issue was so hot that President Barack Obama interrupted his duties to call the bonuses "shameful" and the "height of irresponsibility." Then, on Wednesday, he announced a new set of rules for those seeking "exceptional" assistance from the Troubled Asset Relief Program in the future that would limit cash compensation to $500,000 and restrict severance pay and frills, perks and boondoggles.
Lindsay Holmes
In the excitement some of the facts got mixed up. Mr. DiNapoli's estimate included many firms that were not involved with the bailout, and only a few that were. Merrill's actions were approved by its board early in December and consented to by Bank of America. But the basic point is that, despite the dreadful year that Wall Street experienced in 2008, some questionable bonuses were paid to already well-off employees, and that set off the outrage.
Many Americans believe that any bonuses for top executives paid by rescued banks would constitute "excess compensation," a phrase used by Mr. Obama. But no Wall Street CEO taking federal money received a bonus in 2008, and the same was true for most of their senior colleagues. Not only did those responsible receive no bonuses, the value of the stock in their companies paid to them as part of prior-year bonuses dropped by 70% or more, leaving them, collectively, with billions of dollars of unrealized losses.
That's pay for performance, isn't it?
"Wall Street" has always been the quintessential, if ill-defined, symbol of American capitalism. In reality, Wall Street today includes many large banks, investment groups and other institutions, some not even located in the U.S. It has become a euphemism for the global capital markets industry -- one in which the combined market value of all stocks and bonds outstanding in the world topped $140 trillion at the end of 2007. Well less than half of the value of this combined market value is represented by American securities, but American banks lead the world in its origination and distribution. Wall Street is one of America's great export industries.
The market thrives on locating new opportunities, providing innovation and a willingness to take risks. It is also, regrettably, subject to what the economist John Maynard Keynes called "animal spirits," the psychological factors that make markets irrational when going up or down. For example, America has enjoyed a bonus it didn't deserve in its free-wheeling participation in the housing market, before it became a bubble. Despite great efforts by regulators to manage systemic risk, there have been market failures. The causes of the current market failure, which is the real object of the public anger, go well beyond the Wall Street compensation system -- but compensation has been one of them.
The capital-markets industry operates in a very sophisticated and competitive environment, one that responds best to strong performance incentives. People who flourish in this environment are those who want to be paid and advanced based on their individual and their team's performance, and are willing to take the risk that they might be displaced by someone better or that mistakes or downturns may cause them to be laid off or their firms to fail. Indeed, since 1970, 28 major banks or investment banks have failed or been taken up into mergers, and thousands have come and gone into the industry without making much money. Those that have survived the changing fortunes of the industry have done very well -- so well, in fact, that they appear to have become symbolic of greedy and reckless behavior.
The Wall Street compensation system has evolved from the 1970s, when most of the firms were private partnerships, owned by partners who paid out a designated share of the firm's profits to nonpartner employees while dividing up the rest for themselves. The nonpartners had to earn their keep every year, but the partners' percentage ownerships in the firms were also reset every year or two. On the whole, everyone's performance was continuously evaluated and rewarded or penalized. The system provided great incentives to create profits, but also, because the partners' own money was involved, to avoid great risk.
The industry became much more competitive when commercial banks were allowed into it. The competition tended to commoditize the basic fee businesses, and drove firms more deeply into trading. As improving technologies created great arrays of new instruments to be traded, the partnerships went public to gain access to larger funding sources, and to spread out the risks of the business. As they did so, each firm tried to maintain its partnership "culture" and compensation system as best it could, but it was difficult to do so.
In time there was significant erosion of the simple principles of the partnership days. Compensation for top managers followed the trend into excess set by other public companies. Competition for talent made recruitment and retention more difficult and thus tilted negotiating power further in favor of stars. Henry Paulson, when he was CEO of Goldman Sachs, once remarked that Wall Street was like other businesses, where 80% of the profits were provided by 20% of the people, but the 20% changed a lot from year to year and market to market. You had to pay everyone well because you never knew what next year would bring, and because there was always someone trying to poach your best trained people, whom you didn't want to lose even if they were not superstars. Consequently, bonuses in general became more automatic and less tied to superior performance. Compensation became the industry's largest expense, accounting for about 50% of net revenues. Warren Buffett, when he was an investor in Salomon Brothers in the late 1980s, once noted that he wasn't sure why anyone wanted to be an investor in a business where management took out half the revenues before shareholders got anything. But he recently invested $5 billion in Goldman Sachs, so he must have gotten over the problem.
As firms became part of large, conglomerate financial institutions, the sense of being a part of a special cohort of similarly acculturated colleagues was lost, and the performance of shares and options in giant multi-line holding companies rarely correlated with an individual's idea of his own performance over time. Nevertheless, the system as a whole worked reasonably well for years in providing rewards for success and penalties for failures, and still works even in difficult markets such as this one.
At junior levels, bonuses tend to be based on how well the individual is seen to be developing. As employees progress, their compensation is based less on individual performance and more on their role as a manager or team leader. For all professional employees the annual bonus represents a very large amount of the person's take-home pay. At the middle levels, bonuses are set after firm-wide, interdepartmental negotiation sessions that attempt to allocate the firm's compensation pool based on a combination of performance and potential.
From Awful to Merely Bad: Reviewing the Bank Rescue Options
Source: WSJ, Authors: Hubbard, Scott, and Zingales
When Henry Paulson, President Bush's Treasury secretary, first introduced the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) in Congress last September, we cautioned against using government funds to buy mortgages and mortgage-related securities from banks. After the Emergency Economic Stabilization Act was signed into law in early October, the Treasury decided not to buy these assets. Instead, it used the first $350 billion of TARP funds to inject capital first into nine systemically important troubled banks, and later into insurer AIG (as part of a refinancing) and auto makers General Motors and Chrysler.
This approach seems to have achieved (albeit at a high cost for taxpayers) its principal objective of avoiding a massive collapse of the financial system. But it has not yet resulted in an increase in bank lending or the attraction of new private equity to the banking system, both of which are important to reviving the economy. There now appears to be active consideration of using TARP funds to buy "bad assets" from the banks. Major problems with so doing remain.
The central issue is how to price the assets. When the subprime crisis hit in the summer of 2007, the Treasury's first response was to encourage the private sector to create a fund -- the so-called Super SIV (structured investment vehicle) -- to buy mortgage-related assets. This proposal foundered due to the difficulty of setting a price for these assets, which come in complex and incomparable varieties. If Treasury pays close to par, it is paying far too much. If it pays current prices, no one will sell because of the adverse impact on their capital. If it pulls a price out of a hat, it will be acting arbitrarily.
Initial discussions focused on using a reverse auction with asset holders "bidding" to sell their mortgage-related securities to the Treasury. Such an approach raises significant problems -- most significant is the risk posed by asymmetric information regarding the value of these securities. Because the holders of complex and incomparable mortgage-related securities have more information regarding their worth than does Treasury, Treasury is at a huge disadvantage and will likely overpay. Moreover, there will have to be many auctions of very different securities. All of this will take months to execute.
Reportedly, thought is now being given to only buying "bad assets" and putting them in a fund (called a "bad bank") owned by the government. This new variation raises additional problems. First, how should "bad assets" be defined? As the recession deepens, bad assets have multiplied and will continue to multiply from mortgages and mortgage-related securities to many other assets classes, including credit-card portfolios. We see little sense in defining bad assets simply as those that have been already significantly written down. The bank may be more exposed to losses from assets that have not been significantly written down, but could well be.
Further, as the potential class of bad assets expands so does the cost of purchase. Total mortgage-related securities and mortgages held by banks alone are estimated to be $6 trillion, of which mortgage-backed securities are $1.3 trillion. Total bank assets are $16.5 trillion.
Another proposal is to guarantee the value of bad assets rather than buy them. This outcome could be accomplished by a direct guarantee of assets that remained on the balance sheet of banks (or were brought in from outside conduits or SIVs), or into one government-run bad bank.
A version of this approach was used in the second round of TARP financing for Citigroup and Bank of America. In the case of Citigroup, a $306 billion asset pool was created in which Citigroup absorbs the first $29 billion of losses, the Treasury and FDIC jointly fund 90% of the next $15 billion ($5 billion from the Treasury through TARP, and $10 billion from the FDIC), and the Fed finally funds 90% of the remaining losses. In return, the government received $7 billion in preferred stock (with an 8% yield) -- $4 billion to Treasury, $3 billion to FDIC. Under this approach, the problem of valuing the assets has been finessed into a problem of valuing the stock.
With more transparency, which Congress and its Oversight Panel would surely demand, that finesse would not work. A conservative estimate puts the value of the Citigroup option -- i.e., the potential cost to taxpayers -- at $60 billion, taking account of the stock warrants the government received. If one were to repeat this approach for all banks the cost would be as much as TARP. And, if the market for toxic assets were to fall further, the government could easily be responsible for trillions of dollars of losses. Last but not least, having the Fed become the residual risk bearer further undermines the Fed's financial stability and its ultimate independence, a concern recently voiced by the Committee on Capital Markets Regulation.
A more reasonable alternative would be to encourage banks to spin off the toxic assets into separate affiliated bad banks (as under a new reported German initiative). Ownership of these two entities would be allocated pro rata to all the financial investors as a proportion of the most updated accounting value of these assets. So a bank with $30 billion of bad assets and $70 billion of good assets will see its debt divided 30%-70% and its equity divided 30%-70%. Each $100 debt claim will become a $30 debt claim in the bad bank and a $70 debt claim in the good bank. The same would be true for equity. To limit the exposure of the FDIC to the bad bank, insured deposits and FDIC-guaranteed debt should remain in the good bank to the extent there are sufficient matching good assets. In addition, off-balance-sheet derivative contracts remain off balance sheet for the good bank to avoid the possibility that the failure of the bad bank would create systemic risk. Furthermore, convincing evidence would be needed before guaranteeing any of the liabilities of a bad bank because ordinarily a bad-bank failure should not result in systemic risk.
An alternative would be for the government to facilitate the injection of new, private-equity capital into banks by eliminating regulatory restrictions, such as bank ownership by private-equity or commercial firms, and providing protection against loss or dilution if there were to be subsequent government intervention. A subsidy for this private risk capital could even be given. As long as private capital holds most of the risk, it will certainly be allocated more efficiently than government money, minimizing the taxpayer cost of any subsidy. This idea would have to be more fully explored.
Whatever is done with respect to still solvent institutions, banks with dangerously low, or no or negative capital, should be taken over by the government through already established FDIC procedures, such as bridge loans. Just as with the Savings and Loan crisis of the 1980s, there is a significant risk that shareholders (and managers) with nothing to lose will roll the dice and lose even more. Existing shareholders with no equity should not benefit by government support. Further, a government takeover (just like a corporate bankruptcy) permits the restructuring of bank debt. As the S&L debacle shows, a decision worse than a nationalization of the banking sector is a nationalization of the losses, which still leaves the gains in private hands.
With still solvent institutions, there is no affordable and workable plan that will by itself assure that these banks will start lending and that private capital will return. We have stabilized the financial system against massive collapse, which is probably all the government can do. While we hope some more improvement may come from the bad bank or private-equity solutions outlined above, the road to further recovery of the financial system now lies principally with the economy's recovery and the success of the fiscal stimulus.
When Henry Paulson, President Bush's Treasury secretary, first introduced the Troubled Asset Relief Program (TARP) in Congress last September, we cautioned against using government funds to buy mortgages and mortgage-related securities from banks. After the Emergency Economic Stabilization Act was signed into law in early October, the Treasury decided not to buy these assets. Instead, it used the first $350 billion of TARP funds to inject capital first into nine systemically important troubled banks, and later into insurer AIG (as part of a refinancing) and auto makers General Motors and Chrysler.
This approach seems to have achieved (albeit at a high cost for taxpayers) its principal objective of avoiding a massive collapse of the financial system. But it has not yet resulted in an increase in bank lending or the attraction of new private equity to the banking system, both of which are important to reviving the economy. There now appears to be active consideration of using TARP funds to buy "bad assets" from the banks. Major problems with so doing remain.
The central issue is how to price the assets. When the subprime crisis hit in the summer of 2007, the Treasury's first response was to encourage the private sector to create a fund -- the so-called Super SIV (structured investment vehicle) -- to buy mortgage-related assets. This proposal foundered due to the difficulty of setting a price for these assets, which come in complex and incomparable varieties. If Treasury pays close to par, it is paying far too much. If it pays current prices, no one will sell because of the adverse impact on their capital. If it pulls a price out of a hat, it will be acting arbitrarily.
Initial discussions focused on using a reverse auction with asset holders "bidding" to sell their mortgage-related securities to the Treasury. Such an approach raises significant problems -- most significant is the risk posed by asymmetric information regarding the value of these securities. Because the holders of complex and incomparable mortgage-related securities have more information regarding their worth than does Treasury, Treasury is at a huge disadvantage and will likely overpay. Moreover, there will have to be many auctions of very different securities. All of this will take months to execute.
Reportedly, thought is now being given to only buying "bad assets" and putting them in a fund (called a "bad bank") owned by the government. This new variation raises additional problems. First, how should "bad assets" be defined? As the recession deepens, bad assets have multiplied and will continue to multiply from mortgages and mortgage-related securities to many other assets classes, including credit-card portfolios. We see little sense in defining bad assets simply as those that have been already significantly written down. The bank may be more exposed to losses from assets that have not been significantly written down, but could well be.
Further, as the potential class of bad assets expands so does the cost of purchase. Total mortgage-related securities and mortgages held by banks alone are estimated to be $6 trillion, of which mortgage-backed securities are $1.3 trillion. Total bank assets are $16.5 trillion.
Another proposal is to guarantee the value of bad assets rather than buy them. This outcome could be accomplished by a direct guarantee of assets that remained on the balance sheet of banks (or were brought in from outside conduits or SIVs), or into one government-run bad bank.
A version of this approach was used in the second round of TARP financing for Citigroup and Bank of America. In the case of Citigroup, a $306 billion asset pool was created in which Citigroup absorbs the first $29 billion of losses, the Treasury and FDIC jointly fund 90% of the next $15 billion ($5 billion from the Treasury through TARP, and $10 billion from the FDIC), and the Fed finally funds 90% of the remaining losses. In return, the government received $7 billion in preferred stock (with an 8% yield) -- $4 billion to Treasury, $3 billion to FDIC. Under this approach, the problem of valuing the assets has been finessed into a problem of valuing the stock.
With more transparency, which Congress and its Oversight Panel would surely demand, that finesse would not work. A conservative estimate puts the value of the Citigroup option -- i.e., the potential cost to taxpayers -- at $60 billion, taking account of the stock warrants the government received. If one were to repeat this approach for all banks the cost would be as much as TARP. And, if the market for toxic assets were to fall further, the government could easily be responsible for trillions of dollars of losses. Last but not least, having the Fed become the residual risk bearer further undermines the Fed's financial stability and its ultimate independence, a concern recently voiced by the Committee on Capital Markets Regulation.
A more reasonable alternative would be to encourage banks to spin off the toxic assets into separate affiliated bad banks (as under a new reported German initiative). Ownership of these two entities would be allocated pro rata to all the financial investors as a proportion of the most updated accounting value of these assets. So a bank with $30 billion of bad assets and $70 billion of good assets will see its debt divided 30%-70% and its equity divided 30%-70%. Each $100 debt claim will become a $30 debt claim in the bad bank and a $70 debt claim in the good bank. The same would be true for equity. To limit the exposure of the FDIC to the bad bank, insured deposits and FDIC-guaranteed debt should remain in the good bank to the extent there are sufficient matching good assets. In addition, off-balance-sheet derivative contracts remain off balance sheet for the good bank to avoid the possibility that the failure of the bad bank would create systemic risk. Furthermore, convincing evidence would be needed before guaranteeing any of the liabilities of a bad bank because ordinarily a bad-bank failure should not result in systemic risk.
An alternative would be for the government to facilitate the injection of new, private-equity capital into banks by eliminating regulatory restrictions, such as bank ownership by private-equity or commercial firms, and providing protection against loss or dilution if there were to be subsequent government intervention. A subsidy for this private risk capital could even be given. As long as private capital holds most of the risk, it will certainly be allocated more efficiently than government money, minimizing the taxpayer cost of any subsidy. This idea would have to be more fully explored.
Whatever is done with respect to still solvent institutions, banks with dangerously low, or no or negative capital, should be taken over by the government through already established FDIC procedures, such as bridge loans. Just as with the Savings and Loan crisis of the 1980s, there is a significant risk that shareholders (and managers) with nothing to lose will roll the dice and lose even more. Existing shareholders with no equity should not benefit by government support. Further, a government takeover (just like a corporate bankruptcy) permits the restructuring of bank debt. As the S&L debacle shows, a decision worse than a nationalization of the banking sector is a nationalization of the losses, which still leaves the gains in private hands.
With still solvent institutions, there is no affordable and workable plan that will by itself assure that these banks will start lending and that private capital will return. We have stabilized the financial system against massive collapse, which is probably all the government can do. While we hope some more improvement may come from the bad bank or private-equity solutions outlined above, the road to further recovery of the financial system now lies principally with the economy's recovery and the success of the fiscal stimulus.
The weekend that Wall Street died
Source: WSJ
Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. Chief Executive Richard S. Fuld Jr., wearing tie, is heckled by protesters in October as he leaves Capitol Hill in Washington after testify before the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee on the collapse of Lehman Brothers.
With his investment bank facing a near-certain failure, Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc.'s chief executive officer, Richard Fuld Jr., placed yet another phone call to the man he thought could save him.
Fuld was already effectively out of options by the afternoon of Sunday, Sept. 14. The U.S. government said it wouldn't fund a bailout for Lehman, the country's oldest investment bank. Britain's Barclays PLC had agreed in principle to buy the loss-wracked firm, but the deal fell apart. Bank of America Corp., initially seen as Lehman's most likely buyer, had said two days earlier that it couldn't do a deal without federal aid -- and by Sunday was deep in secret negotiations to take over Lehman rival Merrill Lynch & Co.
Desperate to avoid steering his 25,000-person company into bankruptcy proceedings, Fuld dialed the Charlotte, N.C., home of Bank of America Chairman Kenneth D. Lewis. His calls so far that weekend had gone unreturned. This time, Lewis's wife, Donna, again picked up, and told the boss of Lehman Brothers: If Lewis wanted to call back, he would call back.
Fuld paused, then apologized for bothering her. "I am so sorry," he said.
Associated Press File Merrill Lynch Chairman and CEO John Thain, left, and Bank of America Chairman and CEO Ken Lewis shake hands following a news conference in New York.
His lament could also have been for the investment-banking model that had come to embody the words "Wall Street." Within hours of his call, Lehman announced it would file for bankruptcy protection. Within a week, Wall Street as it was known -- loosely regulated, daringly risky and lavishly rewarded -- was dead.
As Fuld waged his increasingly desperate bid to save his firm that weekend, the bosses of Wall Street's other three giant investment banks were locked in their own battles as their firms came under mounting pressure. It was a weekend unlike anything Wall Street had ever seen: In past crises, its bosses had banded together to save their way of life. This time, the financial hole they had dug for themselves was too deep. It was every man for himself, and Fuld, who declined to comment for this article, was the odd man out.
For the U.S. securities industry to unravel as spectacularly as it did in September, many parties had to pull on many threads. Mortgage bankers gave loans to Americans for homes they couldn't afford. Investment houses packaged these loans into complex instruments whose risk they didn't always understand. Ratings agencies often gave their seal of approval, investors borrowed heavily to buy, regulators missed the warning signs. But at the center of it all -- and paid hundreds of millions of dollars during the boom to manage their firms' risk -- were the four bosses of Wall Street.
Details of these CEOs' decisions and negotiations, many of them previously unreported, show how they sought to avert the death of America's giant investment banks. Their efforts culminated in a round-the-clock weekend of secret negotiations and personal struggles to keep their firms afloat. Accounts of these events are based on company and other documents, emails and interviews with Wall Street executives, traders, regulators, investors and others.
Summer Clouds
Earlier this year, when the financial crisis claimed its first victim, Bear Stearns Cos., the surviving masters of Wall Street thought the eye of the storm had passed. Bear Stearns, the smallest of Wall Street's big five stand-alone investment banks, imploded just months after bad subprime bets sunk two internal hedge funds. In March 2008, the government brokered Bear Stearns's sale to J.P. Morgan Chase & Co.
After Bear Stearns's brush with death, the Federal Reserve for the first time allowed investment houses to borrow from the government on much the same terms as commercial banks. Many on Wall Street saw investment banks' access to an equivalent of the Fed "discount window" as a blank check should hard times return. But it would also be the first step in giving the government more say over an industry that had until then been lightly regulated.
Associated Press File Lloyd C. Blankfein, of Goldman Sachs,
In April, Morgan Stanley's CEO, John Mack, told shareholders the U.S. subprime crisis was in the eighth or ninth inning. The same month, Goldman Sachs Group Inc.'s chief executive, Lloyd Blankfein, said, "We're probably in the third or fourth quarter" of a four-quarter game.
Mack and Blankfein had some reason to be confident. Mack had been late to steer Morgan into mortgage trading, and relatively early to sell assets and raise cash. Goldman, under Blankfein, had even less direct exposure to subprime investments. Blankfein also took comfort in a stockpile of government bonds and other securities his firm held in case it ran into deep funding problems. By the second quarter, Goldman had increased this store of funds more than 30 percent from earlier in the year, to $88 billion.
Problems were more acute at Merrill Lynch and Lehman.
John Thain, a former Goldman Sachs president and New York Stock Exchange head, had arrived at Merrill Lynch in December 2007. He moved quickly to cut costs, putting the corporate helicopter up for sale and replacing the fresh flowers on a Merrill floor used by nine or so executives -- an estimated annual expense of $200,000 -- with fakes
More monumentally, Thain faced $55 billion in soured mortgage assets that Merrill had acquired under his predecessor. Within weeks of his arrival, he had raised more than $12 billion in much-needed capital, including $5 billion from Singapore's state investment company, Temasek Holdings, at $48 a share.
Some of those early deals would end up being costly. With his would-be investors driving a hard bargain, Thain promised Temasek and others that if Merrill sold additional common stock at a lower price within a year, the firm would compensate them. Within months, after taking a big write-down on a portfolio of mortgage debts that Merrill sold for pennies on the dollar, the firm had to raise more cash at $25 a share. Merrill issued additional shares to pay off its earlier investors, diluting its common shares by 39 percent. The dilution essentially cost shareholders about $5 billion, well above the previously reported $2.5 billion cost of shares issued to Temasek.
Lehman, now the smallest of the major Wall Street firms, also faced billions of dollars in write-downs from bad mortgage-related investments. In June, Lehman reported the first quarterly loss in its 14 years as a public company. Under Fuld, Lehman raised capital. But critics say Fuld was slow to shed bad assets and profitable lines of business. He pushed for better terms with at least one investor that ended up driving it away.
Fuld had faced challenges to his firm before. Since taking Lehman's reins in 1994, he expanded the 158-year-old bond house into lucrative areas such as investment banking and stock trading. Over the years, he had tamped unfounded rumors about the firm's health and vowed to remain independent. "As long as I am alive this firm will never be sold," Fuld said in December 2007, according to a person who spoke with him then. "And if it is sold after I die, I will reach back from the grave and prevent it."
In the summer of 2008, Fuld remained confident, particularly given the security of the Fed's discount window. "We have access to Fed funds," Fuld told executives at the time. "We can't fail now."
Friday, Sept. 12
By Friday, Sept. 12, failure appeared to be an option for Lehman.
Over that week, confidence in Lehman plunged. The firm said its third-quarter losses could total almost $4 billion. Lehman's clearing bank, J.P. Morgan, wanted an extra $5 billion in collateral. Lehman's attempts to raise money from a Korean bank had stalled. Credit agencies were warning that if Lehman didn't raise more capital over the weekend, it could face a downgrade. That would likely force the firm to put up more collateral for its outstanding loans and increase its costs for new loans.
If Fuld couldn't find an investor for Lehman by Sunday night, the fiercely independent boss could be forced to steer his firm into bankruptcy proceedings.
Earlier that week, Fuld had approached Bank of America's Lewis about buying Lehman. A U.S. Treasury official, meanwhile, had contacted Barclays of Britain to suggest it consider taking a stake in Lehman. Fuld's top executives spent Friday shuttling between the two suitors' law firms.
Lehman was also exploring a third option: The night before, veteran bankruptcy lawyer Harvey Miller of Weil, Gotshal & Manges had secretly begun cobbling together a bare-bones bankruptcy filing for the firm.
Lehman's troubles were putting the rest of Wall Street on notice.
In a Merrill Lynch conference room in downtown Manhattan that morning, Thain was on a call with Merrill's board of directors, discussing how to address the chaos. "Lehman is going down, and the [short sellers] are coming after us next," warned Merrill director John Finnegan. "Tell me how this story is going to end differently."
Merrill would be fine, Thain said. "We are not Lehman," he responded, noting the firm held valuable assets, including its stake in BlackRock, a profitable asset-management firm.
But Merrill's clients, too, were beginning to pull out money. The firm's stock was sinking. Executives, including Merrill President Gregory Fleming, were nervous.
Fleming believed he'd identified the ideal partner for Merrill. Bank of America, with a strong balance sheet and retail operations, would mesh well with Merrill's securities franchise and 16,000-strong brokerage force. Fleming worried that Bank of America could buy Lehman instead.
Fleming called a long-time lawyer for Bank of America, Edward Herlihy of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz. "You have to talk to us," Fleming said. He was told that Merrill's Thain would have to approach Bank of America's Lewis. "I know," Fleming responded. "I'm gonna try."
At 5 p.m. Friday, after a day of massive client withdrawals at Lehman, Thain's phone rang. It was the Treasury. "Be at the Fed at 6 p.m.," Thain was told.
Soon after, Thain gathered along with Morgan's Mack and Goldman's Blankfein at the New York Federal Reserve in downtown Manhattan, in a room once used to cash coupons on Treasury bills. The three men were greeted by the masters of the world's biggest economy -- Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, New York Fed Chief Timothy Geithner and Securities and Exchange Commission chief Christopher Cox. It was a signal moment for the Wall Street firms, which after years of being monitored by the SEC would all soon come under the regulatory watch of a newly powerful Fed.
The federal officials told the Wall Street chiefs to return in the morning. If the mess at Lehman could be fixed, it would be the job of the Wall Street bosses. There would be no public bailout.
An industry-led solution wouldn't be without precedent. In the market panic of 1907, financier J.P. Morgan persuaded fellow bankers to help fund a bailout for failing rivals. Competitors united again in 1998, putting up money to insulate the financial system from the failure of hedge fund Long Term Capital Management.
But now, Fuld's problems at Lehman were possibly beyond repair.
By that night, Bank of America's team had concluded that Lehman's real-estate portfolio was worse than expected -- and as a result, the firm's liabilities likely exceeded its assets. "We need government assistance, and we are not getting it," the bank's top deal maker, Greg Curl, told his group. Some of the negotiators prepared to fly back early the next morning to headquarters in Charlotte.
Lewis hadn't come to New York for the Lehman talks. He called Fuld from Charlotte, telling him that Bank of America couldn't do a deal without federal help. "We will keep a team in New York in case things change," Lewis told him.
Saturday, Sept. 13
Fuld arrived at Lehman's office at 7 a.m. on Saturday, wearing a blue suit and tie. The talks with Barclays were still moving. If the government could be moved, there could also be hope for a Bank of America deal.
Merrill, meanwhile, was beginning its own pursuit of Bank of America.
At his home in Rye, N.Y., Thain was getting dressed for a day at the New York Fed when his phone rang. It was Merrill's president, Fleming.
"John, you really need to call Ken Lewis," Fleming said.
"Get me his number," said Thain, who added it to his papers for the day.
Thain's black SUV pulled up in front of the New York Fed just before 8 a.m. Top executives from all four investment banks -- minus Lehman's Fuld -- were there.
Federal officials broke Thain, Mack and Blankfein and their top aides into groups. One studied the potential fallout from a Lehman failure. Another was charged with putting a value on Lehman's controversial real-estate investments. A third group, which included Thain and Morgan's Mack, was supposed to discuss an industry-led bailout for Lehman.
Lehman's president, Bart McDade, walked the group through the embattled firm's books. McDade did not respond to requests for comment for this article.
Mack questioned Wall Street's ability to repair markets. The firms could try to backstop Lehman, he argued, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't have to rescue another rival later. "If we're going to do this deal, where does it end?" he said.
As McDade discussed Lehman's position, Thain had an epiphany: "This could be me sitting here next Friday."
Thain pushed his chair back and left the group to caucus with top Merrill officers. "Lehman is not going to make it," he told them.
Thain stepped to a sidewalk behind the New York Fed and called the Bank of America chief at his home in Charlotte. "I can be there in a few hours," Lewis said.
Members of Bank of America's deal team, exhausted from scrutinizing Lehman's books, had just landed in Charlotte. Lewis ordered them back to New York.
Up in Lehman's midtown office, Fuld was also dialing Lewis's North Carolina home. His calls went unreturned. "I can't believe that son of a bitch won't return my calls," he told a top adviser.
Lehman's bankruptcy team, meanwhile, was rolling into action. Shortly before noon, Miller, the Weil Gotshal bankruptcy head, sent an email to several partners. Lehman's name didn't appear in the email. Its subject line read: "Urgent. Code name: Equinox. Have desperate need for help on an emergency situation."
Throughout the day, Miller's attorneys, working with Federal Reserve officials and their attorneys, began seeking information from Lehman. But with Lehman's top officials tied up at the Fed and in Barclays negotiations, the lawyers were hard-pressed to get the details they needed.
"We were a distraction to the Lehman people," said Lori Fife, a Weil partner. "It felt like it was just a fire drill."
Later that afternoon, Merrill's chief executive met Bank of America's CEO, Lewis, in the bank's corporate apartment in the Time Warner Center. In a one-on-one meeting overlooking Central Park, the two men agreed that it looked like Lehman would be forced into bankruptcy.
Thain made his opening offer. "How about buying a 9.9 percent stake" in Merrill, he proposed.
Lewis said the bank doesn't tend to buy minority stakes. He suggested Bank of America could buy the whole firm.
"I am not here to sell Merrill Lynch," Thain responded.
"Well, that is what I want," Lewis countered.
The two parted with an agreement to keep talking.
Lehman's talks with Barclays, meanwhile, were moving forward at the New York Fed, under the eye of government officials. "Shouldn't I be there?" Fuld said to Lehman President Mr. McDade and to attorney Rodgin Cohen of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP, a longtime adviser.
What Fuld appeared not to know was that some top government officials had instructed key Lehman representatives at the Fed building to keep Fuld away that weekend. The federal officials had explained that Fuld -- not only Wall Street's longest-serving boss, but a director of the New York Fed -- could be an unnecessary distraction and a lightning rod for criticism.
At the Fed meetings, much of the talk was on the sidelines. When Thain returned to the New York Fed from his discussions with Lewis, Merrill advisers told him they had been approached by top Goldman executives. The rival house was interested in taking a 9.9 percent stake in Merrill and offered to extend a $10 billion line of credit.
Thain was digesting the news when he was approached by Mack of Morgan Stanley. "We should talk," Mack said. The bosses of Merrill and Morgan agreed to meet that evening. Soon, Thain and two advisers were en route to the Upper East Side apartment of a Morgan co-president.
Thain drank a Diet Coke as the Morgan and Merrill executives talked. Both sides felt there were benefits to merging. Thain indicated he needed a deal quickly. The meeting ended without a firm plan. "We have a board meeting Tuesday and can get back to you soon," Mack said before the group broke up.
As Thain and his advisers left the apartment, the Merrill chief suggested he had faint hopes for a deal with Morgan Stanley. "I don't think they share our sense of urgency," he said.
Merrill's talks with Bank of America, however, were on track at the bank's law firm, Wachtell Lipton. Merrill's team was camped out on Wachtell's 34th floor. Bank of America's team was on the 33rd. Around midnight, Lewis left the law firm for his apartment in the Time Warner Center. Pizza arrived at Wachtell at 3 a.m.
At Lehman's offices that evening, Fuld still hadn't heard back from Lewis. Attorneys from Weil were poring through documents, drawing up what would be the largest bankruptcy in U.S. history.
But in a rare piece of good news for Lehman, Barclays had agreed to buy Lehman, as long as it didn't have to take on its soured real-estate assets. Lehman's asset-management division would also be spun off. The Fed indicated that a syndicate of banks and brokers had agreed in principle to put up enough capital to support a separate company that would hold Lehman's bad real-estate assets.
Sunday, Sept. 14
A few hours later, at 8 a.m., Thain arrived at the Time Warner Center for a second one-on-one meeting in Lewis's corporate apartment. Over coffee, Thain made his case for a strong price for Merrill despite its stock's recent fall.
At the same time, Merrill officials were huddled with Goldman bankers. Some members of Merrill's team doubted that Goldman could save their firm by taking a 9.9 percent stake. Pete Kelly, a top Merrill lawyer, also had his reservations about letting rival Goldman see his firm's books. Still, the sides set a late-morning meeting at Merrill's offices.
At 9 a.m., the chiefs of finance arrived again at the New York Fed for a second day of meetings. By the time Thain arrived, the Merrill chief had a number of options in his back pocket.
Rolling up to the meetings at around the same time was Goldman's chief, Blankfein. A Goldman aide, referring to days of meltdowns and meetings, carped to Blankfein: "I don't think I can take another day of this."
Blankfein retorted: "You're getting out of a Mercedes to go to the New York Federal Reserve -- you're not getting out of a Higgins boat on Omaha Beach," he said, referring to the World War II experience of a former Goldman head. "So keep things in perspective."
At Lehman that morning, Fuld told his board of directors to gather at the firm's offices. By noon, he expected, the board would be able to approve Lehman's sale to Barclays.
One hurdle remained: To ink a Lehman deal, Barclays needed a shareholder vote. There was no way to get one on a Sunday. Barclays would need the U.S. or British government to back Lehman's trading balances until a vote could be held.
Government approval never came, though there are diverging views on why. Some blame the U.S. government for refusing to commit resources. Others say the British government refused to entertain a deal they worried would expose England to unnecessary risk.
Lehman's president, McDade, and Cohen, the attorney, called Fuld from the New York Fed. Passing McDade's cellphone back and forth, they broke the Barclays news.
Fuld postponed his board meeting. He made one more call to Charlotte, answered by Lewis's wife.
By midafternoon, word emerged that Bank of America was in talks with Merrill Lynch. Cohen, the attorney, broke the news to Fuld. "I guess this confirms our worst fears," Fuld said.
At the Fed, the Lehman executives and their bankruptcy attorneys faced roughly 25 officials from the Fed, Treasury and SEC. The Lehman officials pleaded for federal aid to keep Lehman afloat. But with Barclays and Bank of America off the table, Federal officials wanted a plan in place to soothe markets before trading opened in Asia.
A senior Fed official asked Miller, the Weil veteran who'd been involved in bankruptcy filings of companies including Bethlehem Steel and Marvel Entertainment, if Lehman was ready to file.
"No," Miller answered.
"You need more of a plan to prepare to do this," Miller continued. Lehman had tens of billions of dollars in derivative positions with countless parties. Unless these trades were unwound in an orderly way, it could shock all corners of the financial market. "This will cause financial Armageddon," he said.
Now, Merrill's Thain needed his own deal more than ever. With a Morgan tie-up looking like a long shot, Merrill focused its attentions on Goldman and Bank of America.
Tempers at Merrill flared as two rival teams pored over the firm's records. Merrill's head of strategy Peter Kraus, a Goldman alumnus hired by Thain, wanted to pull some of the firm's due-diligence staff away from the Bank of America project to look at Goldman's offer. "We need some people down here," Kraus said.
"We have a great deal in hand, and need to finish doing this deal," retorted Fleming, Merrill's president. A few minutes later, Thain called Fleming, telling him to send some people to work on the Goldman offer.
Fleming and Bank of America's lead negotiator, Curl, hammered out a price. Bank of America would buy Merrill for $29 a share.
Fleming informed Thain. At 6 p.m., Merrill's top managers and directors gathered in person and by phone.
"When I took this job this was not the outcome I intended," Thain told directors. After the board meeting broke up after 8 p.m., Thain called the chief of Bank of America. "The decision was unanimous," Thain told Mr. Lewis. "You have a deal."
A more somber scene was playing out at Lehman. Directors, who had been camped at the Midtown offices all day, gathered at around 8 p.m. in the firm's board room. Weil lawyers and Lehman executives summarized the Fed meeting to the frustrated board.
"They bailed out Bear," said Roland Hernandez, the former CEO of Spanish-language TV network Telemundo and a longtime Lehman board member. "Why not us?"
One of Fuld's assistants broke in to hand him a note: The SEC chairman wanted to address Lehman's board by speakerphone.
Cox, criticized for his allegedly minor role in the government's bailout of Bear Stearns, had been reluctant to call Lehman. The SEC chief finally called from the New York Fed, surrounded by several staffers, at the urging of Mr. Paulson, the Treasury secretary.
"This is serious," said Cox. "The board has a grave matter before it," he said.
John D. McComber, a former president of the Export-Import Bank and a Lehman director for 14 years, asked: "Are you directing us to authorize" a bankruptcy filing?
The SEC chief muted his phone. A minute later, he came back on the line. "You have a grave responsibility and you need to act accordingly," he replied.
As the meeting wrapped up around 10 p.m., Fuld, his suit jacket now off, leaned back in his chair. "I guess this is goodbye," he said. Lehman would file about four hours later.
Just a few blocks away, Merrill and Bank of America executives met to toast their deal. "I look forward to a great partnership with Merrill Lynch," Lewis said around midnight, a glass of champagne in hand.
The End
Rather than soothing markets, Lehman's bankruptcy filing roiled them -- slamming trading partners that had direct exposure to the firm and sowing fears that Wall Street's remaining giants weren't safe from failure. Shares of Morgan and Goldman plunged. In the credit-default swap market, the price of insurance against defaults of Morgan and Goldman soared.
Hedge funds sought to withdraw more than $100 billion in assets from Morgan Stanley. The firm's clearing bank, Bank of New York Mellon, wanted an extra $4 billion in collateral.
Morgan's chief, Mr. Mack, negotiated a cash infusion from Japan's Mitsubishi UFJ Financial Group. Fed and Treasury officials, concerned that a deal could be derailed by a declining Morgan share price, asked if Mack had other options. One regulator suggested Morgan Stanley consider selling itself to J.P. Morgan -- from which it had been famously split, 73 years earlier, amid post-Depression banking reform laws.
"We're going to get Mitsubishi done. There is no Plan B," Mack told one regulator.
Morgan did the deal. But investor fears remained. By Thursday, Fed officials were urging Morgan to become a commercial bank. Such a move would require Morgan to scale back its bets with borrowed money, run the risk of selling lucrative business lines and accept new onsite regulation from the Fed.
Mack consented, and the following weekend, Morgan Stanley formally ceased to be a securities firm.
The same weekend, Blankfein convened top lieutenants on his 30th-floor office. After 139 years as a securities firm, he said, Goldman, too, would also reshape itself as a commercial bank. Within hours, the era of Wall Street's giants was over.
Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. Chief Executive Richard S. Fuld Jr., wearing tie, is heckled by protesters in October as he leaves Capitol Hill in Washington after testify before the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee on the collapse of Lehman Brothers.
With his investment bank facing a near-certain failure, Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc.'s chief executive officer, Richard Fuld Jr., placed yet another phone call to the man he thought could save him.
Fuld was already effectively out of options by the afternoon of Sunday, Sept. 14. The U.S. government said it wouldn't fund a bailout for Lehman, the country's oldest investment bank. Britain's Barclays PLC had agreed in principle to buy the loss-wracked firm, but the deal fell apart. Bank of America Corp., initially seen as Lehman's most likely buyer, had said two days earlier that it couldn't do a deal without federal aid -- and by Sunday was deep in secret negotiations to take over Lehman rival Merrill Lynch & Co.
Desperate to avoid steering his 25,000-person company into bankruptcy proceedings, Fuld dialed the Charlotte, N.C., home of Bank of America Chairman Kenneth D. Lewis. His calls so far that weekend had gone unreturned. This time, Lewis's wife, Donna, again picked up, and told the boss of Lehman Brothers: If Lewis wanted to call back, he would call back.
Fuld paused, then apologized for bothering her. "I am so sorry," he said.
Associated Press File Merrill Lynch Chairman and CEO John Thain, left, and Bank of America Chairman and CEO Ken Lewis shake hands following a news conference in New York.
His lament could also have been for the investment-banking model that had come to embody the words "Wall Street." Within hours of his call, Lehman announced it would file for bankruptcy protection. Within a week, Wall Street as it was known -- loosely regulated, daringly risky and lavishly rewarded -- was dead.
As Fuld waged his increasingly desperate bid to save his firm that weekend, the bosses of Wall Street's other three giant investment banks were locked in their own battles as their firms came under mounting pressure. It was a weekend unlike anything Wall Street had ever seen: In past crises, its bosses had banded together to save their way of life. This time, the financial hole they had dug for themselves was too deep. It was every man for himself, and Fuld, who declined to comment for this article, was the odd man out.
For the U.S. securities industry to unravel as spectacularly as it did in September, many parties had to pull on many threads. Mortgage bankers gave loans to Americans for homes they couldn't afford. Investment houses packaged these loans into complex instruments whose risk they didn't always understand. Ratings agencies often gave their seal of approval, investors borrowed heavily to buy, regulators missed the warning signs. But at the center of it all -- and paid hundreds of millions of dollars during the boom to manage their firms' risk -- were the four bosses of Wall Street.
Details of these CEOs' decisions and negotiations, many of them previously unreported, show how they sought to avert the death of America's giant investment banks. Their efforts culminated in a round-the-clock weekend of secret negotiations and personal struggles to keep their firms afloat. Accounts of these events are based on company and other documents, emails and interviews with Wall Street executives, traders, regulators, investors and others.
Summer Clouds
Earlier this year, when the financial crisis claimed its first victim, Bear Stearns Cos., the surviving masters of Wall Street thought the eye of the storm had passed. Bear Stearns, the smallest of Wall Street's big five stand-alone investment banks, imploded just months after bad subprime bets sunk two internal hedge funds. In March 2008, the government brokered Bear Stearns's sale to J.P. Morgan Chase & Co.
After Bear Stearns's brush with death, the Federal Reserve for the first time allowed investment houses to borrow from the government on much the same terms as commercial banks. Many on Wall Street saw investment banks' access to an equivalent of the Fed "discount window" as a blank check should hard times return. But it would also be the first step in giving the government more say over an industry that had until then been lightly regulated.
Associated Press File Lloyd C. Blankfein, of Goldman Sachs,
In April, Morgan Stanley's CEO, John Mack, told shareholders the U.S. subprime crisis was in the eighth or ninth inning. The same month, Goldman Sachs Group Inc.'s chief executive, Lloyd Blankfein, said, "We're probably in the third or fourth quarter" of a four-quarter game.
Mack and Blankfein had some reason to be confident. Mack had been late to steer Morgan into mortgage trading, and relatively early to sell assets and raise cash. Goldman, under Blankfein, had even less direct exposure to subprime investments. Blankfein also took comfort in a stockpile of government bonds and other securities his firm held in case it ran into deep funding problems. By the second quarter, Goldman had increased this store of funds more than 30 percent from earlier in the year, to $88 billion.
Problems were more acute at Merrill Lynch and Lehman.
John Thain, a former Goldman Sachs president and New York Stock Exchange head, had arrived at Merrill Lynch in December 2007. He moved quickly to cut costs, putting the corporate helicopter up for sale and replacing the fresh flowers on a Merrill floor used by nine or so executives -- an estimated annual expense of $200,000 -- with fakes
More monumentally, Thain faced $55 billion in soured mortgage assets that Merrill had acquired under his predecessor. Within weeks of his arrival, he had raised more than $12 billion in much-needed capital, including $5 billion from Singapore's state investment company, Temasek Holdings, at $48 a share.
Some of those early deals would end up being costly. With his would-be investors driving a hard bargain, Thain promised Temasek and others that if Merrill sold additional common stock at a lower price within a year, the firm would compensate them. Within months, after taking a big write-down on a portfolio of mortgage debts that Merrill sold for pennies on the dollar, the firm had to raise more cash at $25 a share. Merrill issued additional shares to pay off its earlier investors, diluting its common shares by 39 percent. The dilution essentially cost shareholders about $5 billion, well above the previously reported $2.5 billion cost of shares issued to Temasek.
Lehman, now the smallest of the major Wall Street firms, also faced billions of dollars in write-downs from bad mortgage-related investments. In June, Lehman reported the first quarterly loss in its 14 years as a public company. Under Fuld, Lehman raised capital. But critics say Fuld was slow to shed bad assets and profitable lines of business. He pushed for better terms with at least one investor that ended up driving it away.
Fuld had faced challenges to his firm before. Since taking Lehman's reins in 1994, he expanded the 158-year-old bond house into lucrative areas such as investment banking and stock trading. Over the years, he had tamped unfounded rumors about the firm's health and vowed to remain independent. "As long as I am alive this firm will never be sold," Fuld said in December 2007, according to a person who spoke with him then. "And if it is sold after I die, I will reach back from the grave and prevent it."
In the summer of 2008, Fuld remained confident, particularly given the security of the Fed's discount window. "We have access to Fed funds," Fuld told executives at the time. "We can't fail now."
Friday, Sept. 12
By Friday, Sept. 12, failure appeared to be an option for Lehman.
Over that week, confidence in Lehman plunged. The firm said its third-quarter losses could total almost $4 billion. Lehman's clearing bank, J.P. Morgan, wanted an extra $5 billion in collateral. Lehman's attempts to raise money from a Korean bank had stalled. Credit agencies were warning that if Lehman didn't raise more capital over the weekend, it could face a downgrade. That would likely force the firm to put up more collateral for its outstanding loans and increase its costs for new loans.
If Fuld couldn't find an investor for Lehman by Sunday night, the fiercely independent boss could be forced to steer his firm into bankruptcy proceedings.
Earlier that week, Fuld had approached Bank of America's Lewis about buying Lehman. A U.S. Treasury official, meanwhile, had contacted Barclays of Britain to suggest it consider taking a stake in Lehman. Fuld's top executives spent Friday shuttling between the two suitors' law firms.
Lehman was also exploring a third option: The night before, veteran bankruptcy lawyer Harvey Miller of Weil, Gotshal & Manges had secretly begun cobbling together a bare-bones bankruptcy filing for the firm.
Lehman's troubles were putting the rest of Wall Street on notice.
In a Merrill Lynch conference room in downtown Manhattan that morning, Thain was on a call with Merrill's board of directors, discussing how to address the chaos. "Lehman is going down, and the [short sellers] are coming after us next," warned Merrill director John Finnegan. "Tell me how this story is going to end differently."
Merrill would be fine, Thain said. "We are not Lehman," he responded, noting the firm held valuable assets, including its stake in BlackRock, a profitable asset-management firm.
But Merrill's clients, too, were beginning to pull out money. The firm's stock was sinking. Executives, including Merrill President Gregory Fleming, were nervous.
Fleming believed he'd identified the ideal partner for Merrill. Bank of America, with a strong balance sheet and retail operations, would mesh well with Merrill's securities franchise and 16,000-strong brokerage force. Fleming worried that Bank of America could buy Lehman instead.
Fleming called a long-time lawyer for Bank of America, Edward Herlihy of Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz. "You have to talk to us," Fleming said. He was told that Merrill's Thain would have to approach Bank of America's Lewis. "I know," Fleming responded. "I'm gonna try."
At 5 p.m. Friday, after a day of massive client withdrawals at Lehman, Thain's phone rang. It was the Treasury. "Be at the Fed at 6 p.m.," Thain was told.
Soon after, Thain gathered along with Morgan's Mack and Goldman's Blankfein at the New York Federal Reserve in downtown Manhattan, in a room once used to cash coupons on Treasury bills. The three men were greeted by the masters of the world's biggest economy -- Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, New York Fed Chief Timothy Geithner and Securities and Exchange Commission chief Christopher Cox. It was a signal moment for the Wall Street firms, which after years of being monitored by the SEC would all soon come under the regulatory watch of a newly powerful Fed.
The federal officials told the Wall Street chiefs to return in the morning. If the mess at Lehman could be fixed, it would be the job of the Wall Street bosses. There would be no public bailout.
An industry-led solution wouldn't be without precedent. In the market panic of 1907, financier J.P. Morgan persuaded fellow bankers to help fund a bailout for failing rivals. Competitors united again in 1998, putting up money to insulate the financial system from the failure of hedge fund Long Term Capital Management.
But now, Fuld's problems at Lehman were possibly beyond repair.
By that night, Bank of America's team had concluded that Lehman's real-estate portfolio was worse than expected -- and as a result, the firm's liabilities likely exceeded its assets. "We need government assistance, and we are not getting it," the bank's top deal maker, Greg Curl, told his group. Some of the negotiators prepared to fly back early the next morning to headquarters in Charlotte.
Lewis hadn't come to New York for the Lehman talks. He called Fuld from Charlotte, telling him that Bank of America couldn't do a deal without federal help. "We will keep a team in New York in case things change," Lewis told him.
Saturday, Sept. 13
Fuld arrived at Lehman's office at 7 a.m. on Saturday, wearing a blue suit and tie. The talks with Barclays were still moving. If the government could be moved, there could also be hope for a Bank of America deal.
Merrill, meanwhile, was beginning its own pursuit of Bank of America.
At his home in Rye, N.Y., Thain was getting dressed for a day at the New York Fed when his phone rang. It was Merrill's president, Fleming.
"John, you really need to call Ken Lewis," Fleming said.
"Get me his number," said Thain, who added it to his papers for the day.
Thain's black SUV pulled up in front of the New York Fed just before 8 a.m. Top executives from all four investment banks -- minus Lehman's Fuld -- were there.
Federal officials broke Thain, Mack and Blankfein and their top aides into groups. One studied the potential fallout from a Lehman failure. Another was charged with putting a value on Lehman's controversial real-estate investments. A third group, which included Thain and Morgan's Mack, was supposed to discuss an industry-led bailout for Lehman.
Lehman's president, Bart McDade, walked the group through the embattled firm's books. McDade did not respond to requests for comment for this article.
Mack questioned Wall Street's ability to repair markets. The firms could try to backstop Lehman, he argued, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't have to rescue another rival later. "If we're going to do this deal, where does it end?" he said.
As McDade discussed Lehman's position, Thain had an epiphany: "This could be me sitting here next Friday."
Thain pushed his chair back and left the group to caucus with top Merrill officers. "Lehman is not going to make it," he told them.
Thain stepped to a sidewalk behind the New York Fed and called the Bank of America chief at his home in Charlotte. "I can be there in a few hours," Lewis said.
Members of Bank of America's deal team, exhausted from scrutinizing Lehman's books, had just landed in Charlotte. Lewis ordered them back to New York.
Up in Lehman's midtown office, Fuld was also dialing Lewis's North Carolina home. His calls went unreturned. "I can't believe that son of a bitch won't return my calls," he told a top adviser.
Lehman's bankruptcy team, meanwhile, was rolling into action. Shortly before noon, Miller, the Weil Gotshal bankruptcy head, sent an email to several partners. Lehman's name didn't appear in the email. Its subject line read: "Urgent. Code name: Equinox. Have desperate need for help on an emergency situation."
Throughout the day, Miller's attorneys, working with Federal Reserve officials and their attorneys, began seeking information from Lehman. But with Lehman's top officials tied up at the Fed and in Barclays negotiations, the lawyers were hard-pressed to get the details they needed.
"We were a distraction to the Lehman people," said Lori Fife, a Weil partner. "It felt like it was just a fire drill."
Later that afternoon, Merrill's chief executive met Bank of America's CEO, Lewis, in the bank's corporate apartment in the Time Warner Center. In a one-on-one meeting overlooking Central Park, the two men agreed that it looked like Lehman would be forced into bankruptcy.
Thain made his opening offer. "How about buying a 9.9 percent stake" in Merrill, he proposed.
Lewis said the bank doesn't tend to buy minority stakes. He suggested Bank of America could buy the whole firm.
"I am not here to sell Merrill Lynch," Thain responded.
"Well, that is what I want," Lewis countered.
The two parted with an agreement to keep talking.
Lehman's talks with Barclays, meanwhile, were moving forward at the New York Fed, under the eye of government officials. "Shouldn't I be there?" Fuld said to Lehman President Mr. McDade and to attorney Rodgin Cohen of Sullivan & Cromwell LLP, a longtime adviser.
What Fuld appeared not to know was that some top government officials had instructed key Lehman representatives at the Fed building to keep Fuld away that weekend. The federal officials had explained that Fuld -- not only Wall Street's longest-serving boss, but a director of the New York Fed -- could be an unnecessary distraction and a lightning rod for criticism.
At the Fed meetings, much of the talk was on the sidelines. When Thain returned to the New York Fed from his discussions with Lewis, Merrill advisers told him they had been approached by top Goldman executives. The rival house was interested in taking a 9.9 percent stake in Merrill and offered to extend a $10 billion line of credit.
Thain was digesting the news when he was approached by Mack of Morgan Stanley. "We should talk," Mack said. The bosses of Merrill and Morgan agreed to meet that evening. Soon, Thain and two advisers were en route to the Upper East Side apartment of a Morgan co-president.
Thain drank a Diet Coke as the Morgan and Merrill executives talked. Both sides felt there were benefits to merging. Thain indicated he needed a deal quickly. The meeting ended without a firm plan. "We have a board meeting Tuesday and can get back to you soon," Mack said before the group broke up.
As Thain and his advisers left the apartment, the Merrill chief suggested he had faint hopes for a deal with Morgan Stanley. "I don't think they share our sense of urgency," he said.
Merrill's talks with Bank of America, however, were on track at the bank's law firm, Wachtell Lipton. Merrill's team was camped out on Wachtell's 34th floor. Bank of America's team was on the 33rd. Around midnight, Lewis left the law firm for his apartment in the Time Warner Center. Pizza arrived at Wachtell at 3 a.m.
At Lehman's offices that evening, Fuld still hadn't heard back from Lewis. Attorneys from Weil were poring through documents, drawing up what would be the largest bankruptcy in U.S. history.
But in a rare piece of good news for Lehman, Barclays had agreed to buy Lehman, as long as it didn't have to take on its soured real-estate assets. Lehman's asset-management division would also be spun off. The Fed indicated that a syndicate of banks and brokers had agreed in principle to put up enough capital to support a separate company that would hold Lehman's bad real-estate assets.
Sunday, Sept. 14
A few hours later, at 8 a.m., Thain arrived at the Time Warner Center for a second one-on-one meeting in Lewis's corporate apartment. Over coffee, Thain made his case for a strong price for Merrill despite its stock's recent fall.
At the same time, Merrill officials were huddled with Goldman bankers. Some members of Merrill's team doubted that Goldman could save their firm by taking a 9.9 percent stake. Pete Kelly, a top Merrill lawyer, also had his reservations about letting rival Goldman see his firm's books. Still, the sides set a late-morning meeting at Merrill's offices.
At 9 a.m., the chiefs of finance arrived again at the New York Fed for a second day of meetings. By the time Thain arrived, the Merrill chief had a number of options in his back pocket.
Rolling up to the meetings at around the same time was Goldman's chief, Blankfein. A Goldman aide, referring to days of meltdowns and meetings, carped to Blankfein: "I don't think I can take another day of this."
Blankfein retorted: "You're getting out of a Mercedes to go to the New York Federal Reserve -- you're not getting out of a Higgins boat on Omaha Beach," he said, referring to the World War II experience of a former Goldman head. "So keep things in perspective."
At Lehman that morning, Fuld told his board of directors to gather at the firm's offices. By noon, he expected, the board would be able to approve Lehman's sale to Barclays.
One hurdle remained: To ink a Lehman deal, Barclays needed a shareholder vote. There was no way to get one on a Sunday. Barclays would need the U.S. or British government to back Lehman's trading balances until a vote could be held.
Government approval never came, though there are diverging views on why. Some blame the U.S. government for refusing to commit resources. Others say the British government refused to entertain a deal they worried would expose England to unnecessary risk.
Lehman's president, McDade, and Cohen, the attorney, called Fuld from the New York Fed. Passing McDade's cellphone back and forth, they broke the Barclays news.
Fuld postponed his board meeting. He made one more call to Charlotte, answered by Lewis's wife.
By midafternoon, word emerged that Bank of America was in talks with Merrill Lynch. Cohen, the attorney, broke the news to Fuld. "I guess this confirms our worst fears," Fuld said.
At the Fed, the Lehman executives and their bankruptcy attorneys faced roughly 25 officials from the Fed, Treasury and SEC. The Lehman officials pleaded for federal aid to keep Lehman afloat. But with Barclays and Bank of America off the table, Federal officials wanted a plan in place to soothe markets before trading opened in Asia.
A senior Fed official asked Miller, the Weil veteran who'd been involved in bankruptcy filings of companies including Bethlehem Steel and Marvel Entertainment, if Lehman was ready to file.
"No," Miller answered.
"You need more of a plan to prepare to do this," Miller continued. Lehman had tens of billions of dollars in derivative positions with countless parties. Unless these trades were unwound in an orderly way, it could shock all corners of the financial market. "This will cause financial Armageddon," he said.
Now, Merrill's Thain needed his own deal more than ever. With a Morgan tie-up looking like a long shot, Merrill focused its attentions on Goldman and Bank of America.
Tempers at Merrill flared as two rival teams pored over the firm's records. Merrill's head of strategy Peter Kraus, a Goldman alumnus hired by Thain, wanted to pull some of the firm's due-diligence staff away from the Bank of America project to look at Goldman's offer. "We need some people down here," Kraus said.
"We have a great deal in hand, and need to finish doing this deal," retorted Fleming, Merrill's president. A few minutes later, Thain called Fleming, telling him to send some people to work on the Goldman offer.
Fleming and Bank of America's lead negotiator, Curl, hammered out a price. Bank of America would buy Merrill for $29 a share.
Fleming informed Thain. At 6 p.m., Merrill's top managers and directors gathered in person and by phone.
"When I took this job this was not the outcome I intended," Thain told directors. After the board meeting broke up after 8 p.m., Thain called the chief of Bank of America. "The decision was unanimous," Thain told Mr. Lewis. "You have a deal."
A more somber scene was playing out at Lehman. Directors, who had been camped at the Midtown offices all day, gathered at around 8 p.m. in the firm's board room. Weil lawyers and Lehman executives summarized the Fed meeting to the frustrated board.
"They bailed out Bear," said Roland Hernandez, the former CEO of Spanish-language TV network Telemundo and a longtime Lehman board member. "Why not us?"
One of Fuld's assistants broke in to hand him a note: The SEC chairman wanted to address Lehman's board by speakerphone.
Cox, criticized for his allegedly minor role in the government's bailout of Bear Stearns, had been reluctant to call Lehman. The SEC chief finally called from the New York Fed, surrounded by several staffers, at the urging of Mr. Paulson, the Treasury secretary.
"This is serious," said Cox. "The board has a grave matter before it," he said.
John D. McComber, a former president of the Export-Import Bank and a Lehman director for 14 years, asked: "Are you directing us to authorize" a bankruptcy filing?
The SEC chief muted his phone. A minute later, he came back on the line. "You have a grave responsibility and you need to act accordingly," he replied.
As the meeting wrapped up around 10 p.m., Fuld, his suit jacket now off, leaned back in his chair. "I guess this is goodbye," he said. Lehman would file about four hours later.
Just a few blocks away, Merrill and Bank of America executives met to toast their deal. "I look forward to a great partnership with Merrill Lynch," Lewis said around midnight, a glass of champagne in hand.
The End
Rather than soothing markets, Lehman's bankruptcy filing roiled them -- slamming trading partners that had direct exposure to the firm and sowing fears that Wall Street's remaining giants weren't safe from failure. Shares of Morgan and Goldman plunged. In the credit-default swap market, the price of insurance against defaults of Morgan and Goldman soared.
Hedge funds sought to withdraw more than $100 billion in assets from Morgan Stanley. The firm's clearing bank, Bank of New York Mellon, wanted an extra $4 billion in collateral.
Morgan's chief, Mr. Mack, negotiated a cash infusion from Japan's Mitsubishi UFJ Financial Group. Fed and Treasury officials, concerned that a deal could be derailed by a declining Morgan share price, asked if Mack had other options. One regulator suggested Morgan Stanley consider selling itself to J.P. Morgan -- from which it had been famously split, 73 years earlier, amid post-Depression banking reform laws.
"We're going to get Mitsubishi done. There is no Plan B," Mack told one regulator.
Morgan did the deal. But investor fears remained. By Thursday, Fed officials were urging Morgan to become a commercial bank. Such a move would require Morgan to scale back its bets with borrowed money, run the risk of selling lucrative business lines and accept new onsite regulation from the Fed.
Mack consented, and the following weekend, Morgan Stanley formally ceased to be a securities firm.
The same weekend, Blankfein convened top lieutenants on his 30th-floor office. After 139 years as a securities firm, he said, Goldman, too, would also reshape itself as a commercial bank. Within hours, the era of Wall Street's giants was over.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Chinese Premier Blames Recession on U.S. Actions
Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao squarely blamed the U.S.-led financial system for the world's deepening economic slump, in the most public indication yet of discord between the U.S. government and its largest creditor.
Leaders in China, the world's third-largest economy, have been surprised and upset over how much the problems of the U.S. financial sector have hurt China's holdings. In response, Beijing is re-examining its U.S. investments, say people familiar with the government's thinking.
Mr. Wen, the first Chinese premier to visit the annual global gathering of economic and political leaders in Davos, Switzerland, delivered a strongly worded indictment of the causes of the crisis, clearly aimed largely at the United States though he didn't name it. Mr. Wen blamed an "excessive expansion of financial institutions in blind pursuit of profit," a failure of government supervision of the financial sector, and an "unsustainable model of development, characterized by prolonged low savings and high consumption."
Chinese leaders have felt burned by a series of bad experiences with U.S. investments they had believed were safe, say people familiar with their thinking, including holdings in Morgan Stanley, the collapsed Reserve Primary Fund and mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. As a result, the people say, government leaders decided not to make new investments in a number of U.S. companies that sought China's capital. China's pullback from Fannie and Freddie debt helped push up rates on U.S. mortgages last year just as Washington was seeking to revive the U.S. housing market.
To be sure, China's economy now is so closely intertwined with the U.S.'s that major, abrupt changes are unlikely. The U.S.-China economic relationship has become arguably the world's most important. China has been recycling its vast export earnings by financing the U.S. deficit through buying Treasurys, helping to keep U.S. interest rates low and give American consumers more spending power to buy Chinese exports.China now has roughly $2 trillion in foreign exchange reserves, and has continued to buy U.S. government debt -- surpassing Japan in September as the biggest foreign holder of Treasurys, by one official U.S. measure. China must continue to recycle its trade surplus if it doesn't want its currency to appreciate too quickly.
Still, the relatively smooth financial ties between the two powers that underpinned the global economic boom of recent years are being tested. As both sides survey the wreckage of the U.S. housing bubble and credit crunch, mutual recriminations are raising doubts about the relationship.
The Chinese premier's remarks came a few days after Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner fanned the flames when he accused China of "manipulating" its currency during his confirmation process. That was widely seen as an escalation of long-standing U.S. complaints that China artificially depresses the value of the yuan to bolster its exports, and prompted strong denials from Beijing. The Obama administration has since played down the statement's significance.
More Friction
Frictions between the two countries began to worsen long before Mr. Obama took office. The Chinese central bank last year stopped lending its Treasury holdings for fear the borrowers will go bankrupt, according to people familiar with the discussions -- a decision that disrupted the functioning of the Treasury market. Beijing rejected pleas by Washington to resume its lending of Treasurys, the people said.
Meanwhile, China -- for years the largest foreign investor in bonds from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac -- has been sharply trimming its holdings of that debt. After making direct net purchases of $46.0 billion in the first half of 2008, China's government and companies were net sellers of $26.1 billion in the five months through November, according to the latest U.S. data.
Weak demand for such debt from China and other foreign investors helped prompt the Federal Reserve to announce in November that it would take the step of buying up to $600 billion in debt from Fannie, Freddie and two other U.S. government-related mortgage businesses.
While Chinese officials have generally been circumspect in public, some Chinese commentators have sharpened their rhetoric in recent weeks. Washington "should not expect continuous inflow of more cheap foreign capital to fund its one-after-another massive bailouts," said a December editorial in the government-owned, English-language China Daily. Officials at the newspaper said the commentary wasn't ordered by the government.
Cash-rich Chinese financial institutions are under withering criticism at home for investments in the West that have lost money, such as a $5.6 billion stake in Morgan Stanley purchased by China's sovereign wealth fund, China Investment Corp., 13 months ago. The U.S. company's shares have dropped around 60% since then. Chinese institutions have rebuffed entreaties to invest in struggling U.S. companies even as investors from Japan and the Middle East have stepped up.
For years, Washington has pushed China to adopt an economic and financial system more like that in the U.S. -- arguing, for example, that China should liberalize capital flows in and out of the country. In many cases, China has moved more slowly than the U.S. desired. Beijing has resisted American pressure to let its currency appreciate in line with market forces, for example, which economists say has helped inflate China's trade surplus.
But often, U.S. suggestions had a sympathetic audience among reformers in China's government, and many of China's financial overhauls in recent decades have been inspired by the U.S. model. Now, some of these changes, and their proponents, have lost credibility in China in the wake of the financial meltdown, and recently commentators and officials in China have been increasingly critical about Washington.
Amid high-level Sino-U.S. economic talks in Beijing in early December, Chinese officials admonished the U.S. and Europe for their financial governance.
Vice Premier Wang Qishan, China's top finance official, called on the U.S. to "take all necessary measures to stabilize its economy and financial markets to ensure the security of China's assets and investments in the U.S."
A similar complaint was issued by Lou Jiwei, chairman of CIC, the government fund established in 2007 to seek higher returns on a $200 billion chunk of China's currency holdings. Mr. Lou said in a December speech that he has "lost confidence" because of inconsistent government policies concerning support for Western banks. "We don't know when these institutions will be invested in by their governments," he said.
Fate of U.S. Investments
CIC officials are especially sensitive about the fate of their U.S. investments because they have been under fire for the poor performance of earlier deals. CIC has sustained large paper losses on the $3 billion it invested in Blackstone Group LP in June 2007, as well as the Morgan Stanley stake. Staffed by officials, some western-educated, who have helped promote financial-market liberalization in China, CIC is also viewed by some Chinese as a symbol of the country's close financial ties to the U.S. -- another reason it has been in the crosshairs.
Around October, a lengthy Chinese-language essay began circulating on the Internet excoriating Mr. Lou and other top CIC officials, along with Zhou Xiaochuan, China's central bank governor, for being too close to the U.S. and then Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson. The diatribe quickly gained wide circulation in Chinese financial circles. One passage charged that Mr. Zhou "colluded with Henry Paulson to buy U.S. bonds, forced [Chinese yuan] appreciation, attached China's economy to the U.S. and broke China's economic independence."
Chinese and U.S. interests remain deeply enmeshed. Washington's huge stimulus plans will result in even heavier borrowing, and, while rising savings in the U.S. could create more domestic capital to help fund that, Chinese lending will remain important.
Japan investors, too, have been selling Fannie and Freddie debt and making other moves to limit their U.S. risk. An official at another Asian central bank in charge of managing hundreds of billions of dollars in foreign exchange reserves noted late last year that trading in some derivative instruments had factored in a slightly higher possibility of default by the U.S. government, though that prospect is still viewed by most investors as extremely low.
The alarm for Chinese leaders started ringing loudly in July and August as problems deepened at Fannie and Freddie. Senior Chinese leaders, who hadn't been apprised in detail of how China's reserves were being invested, learned for the first time in published reports that the country's exposure to debt from those two alone totaled nearly $400 billion, say people familiar with the matter.
Fearing that the U.S. government might not fully back the companies, China demanded and received regular briefings throughout the peak of the crisis from high-level Treasury Department officials, including Mr. Paulson, on the market for U.S. debt securities -- especially those of the mortgage giants.
Mr. Paulson and other Treasury officials spoke regularly with Vice Premier Wang and other senior Chinese officials to soothe their concerns.
Hit With Questions
Chinese officials often bombarded their U.S. counterparts with questions, according to people who were present at meetings.
While Mr. Paulson was in Beijing for the Olympics in August, he dined with Mr. Zhou, the central bank chief, at the Whampoa Club, an upscale restaurant that serves modern Chinese cuisine in a traditional courtyard building near the city's Financial Street.
On Sept. 7, Mr. Paulson announced that the U.S. government would seize Fannie and Freddie, but Chinese officials remained concerned.
At one briefing for Chinese officials to explain the change, said people present, they questioned and debated the meaning of nearly every line of the new Treasury plan.
Then Washington allowed Lehman Brothers Holdings Inc. to collapse, further shaking Beijing's faith. One casualty was CIC's nearly $5.4 billion investment in the Reserve Primary Fund, the money-market fund that "broke the buck" in September as a result of the Lehman collapse.
CIC had placed money in the Primary Fund because "money market funds are supposed to be very safe," said a Chinese official in an interview late last year. But on Sept. 16, the Primary Fund's managers announced that they were delaying redemptions.
CIC officials emailed Reserve asking to withdraw all of its money from the fund, and promptly received a reply agreeing to the request, says the Chinese official.
CIC officials believed the agreement meant that CIC had become a creditor to the troubled fund, and therefore was entitled to all of its money.
A Reserve spokeswoman says the company doesn't comment on individual clients.
Later in the day on Sept. 16, Reserve announced that the Primary Fund's net asset value had fallen to 97 cents a share, below the standard $1.00 level.
Reserve initially said redemption requests received before 3 p.m. that day would be honored in full, but has since said that the net asset value already was down to 99 cents a share by 11 a.m.
As Reserve further delayed payments, CIC began to fear that it might not get all of its money.
The Reserve issue "is causing a lot of concern with a lot of financial institutions in China," said the Chinese official.
Some officials expected that the U.S. and its financial institutions would better protect China from loss.
"If the U.S. is treating us this way, eventually that will be enough cause for concern in the stability of the [U.S.] system," the official said.
A CIC spokeswoman declined to comment on the current status of the dispute.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Stock Investors Lose Faith, Pull Out Record Amounts
One of the hallmarks of the long market downturns in the 1930s and the 1970s has returned: Rank-and-file investors are losing faith in stocks.
In the grinding bear markets of the past, huge stock losses left individual investors feeling burned. Failures of once-trusted firms and institutions further sapped their confidence. Many disenchanted investors stayed away from the stock market, holding back gains for a decade or more.
![[Appetite for Risk]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_ta2vkCo5ZIaz4e2WDm500ePx7HxxhqcRbbS0ytrRn2zvzlsLMNXozbQCtlzUPbR5H8IffSNBrcT7IptOjIZ2NQiWfooeWLv4R8Yvzg8AbOwU6lLn_XUHuRjxKU19KRo00Ur-EgeVq_vgNDO0JmFC234g=s0-d)
Today's investors, too, are surveying a stock-market collapse and a wave of Wall Street failures and scandals. Many have headed for the exits: Investors pulled a record $72 billion from stock funds overall in October alone, according to the Investment Company Institute, a mutual-fund trade group. While more recent figures aren't available, mutual-fund companies say withdrawals have remained heavy.
If history is any guide, they may not return quickly.
"I don't have any confidence in buying any new stocks," says David Herrenbruck, a 52-year-old New York photographer at the peak of his ability to save and invest. Mr. Herrenbruck was a big believer in stocks in the late 1990s, but he was burned by the tech-stock meltdown. He has since moved much of his money to real estate, and he has recently invested in bonds and certificates of deposit. "If I have some cash lying around, it is going to be in CDs," he says.
Individual investors arguably form the bedrock of the market. It's difficult to pinpoint how much stock they hold, because they own shares through mutual funds, retirement accounts and other vehicles. But once retirement accounts are factored in, individuals likely account for half or more of all U.S. stock holdings, according to data from Birinyi Associates in Westport, Conn.
![[David Herrenbruck]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_t07eFCAEwyWCRqpeLzNM15SI7y85YyVJeSE7YgDd3p92zHrVAqppyeMioIexLf9aj3u72tquodrVyGyA-93-sWuKOnDlEX2Yl7HXW8VQ4MLN8sXWe4yJ5AQjsbhODMOfheUPwDa7OZIKcg00de3Nu3Vw=s0-d)
David Herrenbruck
Investors' discomfort with stocks has been growing for years, since just after the 2000 selloff of dotcom shares. From 2002 through 2005, investors put an average of $62 billion a year into U.S. stock mutual funds, less than half the annual level of the previous decade. Since 2006, investors have been pulling money out of U.S. stock funds at a rate of about $40 billion a year.
Such skittishness already promises to put a brake on the stock market's recovery, which could make it harder for companies to raise capital and could squeeze financial firms' profits. That, in turn, could delay the economy's emergence from the severe recession that began last year.
Individuals aren't the only ones who have become skeptical of stocks. Many of the buyers who pushed indexes to record levels this decade -- including private-equity firms and hedge funds -- also appear to be increasingly looking beyond stocks. College endowments and hedge funds, for example, have in recent years funneled more money into alternative investments such as real estate, commodities, art, and even farms and timberland.
Lessons Learned
There's no way to know how long individuals could stay away from shares. Their confidence could be restored more quickly than in the past, optimists say, pointing to policymakers' efforts to avoid repeats of the 1930s and 1970s. Federal officials have sought to stabilize financial markets by injecting hundreds of billions of dollars, slashing target interest rates for overnight loans to nearly zero and announcing plans to buy up mortgage-backed securities.
Also, today's individual investors are different than those of past eras. In the 1930s and 1970s, stock investing was the province of a minority of rich Americans. Now, thanks to 401(k) programs and other retirement plans, nearly half of U.S. families have stock holdings.
Some of the biggest nest eggs belong to baby boomers who are reaching retirement age. The market could receive a boost if many sidelined boomers, whose retirements could span decades, decide it is safe to shift sharply back to stocks. But if these investors believe their money will be safer stashed elsewhere for upcoming years, it could slow a market recovery.
Four-Decade Cycles
Peter Lush is among those steering mostly clear of company shares. The 61-year-old retiree in Georgia built up his retirement plan by investing in a fund that owned midsize stocks. Until recently, he says, he had much of his savings in a bond fund, and after corporate bonds took a hit, he moved the money into CDs. "Maybe now would be a good time to buy" stock, says Mr. Lush. "But I am scared, to tell you the truth."
Enthusiasm for shares has waxed and waned in long cycles, with previous flights from stocks occurring eight and four decades ago.
In 1932, the Dow Jones Industrial Average -- in those days a speculative index of relatively young companies -- had fallen 89% from its 1929 high. The 1930s brought bull markets followed by bears, taking back gains and sapping investor confidence.
The sustained troubles of the 1930s exposed scandals in speculative instruments. So-called investment trusts used investor money and borrowed funds to buy high-flying securities, sometimes buying stock in one another. Of the 1,183 investment trusts and other funds that existed from 1927 through 1936, more than half had failed by 1937, a government study showed. Goldman Sachs, which sponsored three prominent funds that lost most of their value, saw its reputation damaged for years.
The Dow didn't return to its 1929 high until 1954. New York University financial historian Richard Sylla recalls that even in the 1950s, some people were so spooked by the Depression that they were storing money in jars in the basement.
The stock recovery of the 1940s and 1950s became a speculative boom in the 1960s, marked by the so-called Nifty Fifty stocks that brokers said would rise for years. They didn't.
In 1966, the Dow flirted with the 1000 level, then shed 25%. That bull-and-bear pattern would repeat for 16 years amid inflation and soaring oil prices. Investor confidence was hammered again. There was scandal, too, including the early 1970s collapse of Bernie Cornfeld's mutual-fund empire, Investors Overseas Services, which at one point had assets of more than $2 billion.
Mutual-fund data from that period show investors reacted much as they have in recent years. After a market peak in 1968, people began putting less money than before into mutual funds, Investment Company Institute data show. By 1971, they were pulling more money out than they were putting in. From May 1972 through March 1980, total dollars in stock funds fell 42%. Mutual-fund executives worried that the industry might not survive.
Money started flowing in again in the 1980s, after the government encouraged broad market participation through 401(k) plans and other retirement programs. Individuals gradually embraced the idea of buy-and-hold investing, helping to usher in the stock boom of the 1990s.
Pax Americana
With the Cold War over and investments flowing across the globe, people believed they were in a long-running Pax Americana of world-wide prosperity and rising productivity. During the 1990s, investors added $1 trillion to mutual funds. The Dow Jones Industrial Average surged above 11000 in 1999, up tenfold from 1982. Owning anything but stocks looked foolish.
That confidence has been shaken by two bad bear markets in less than a decade. Between 2000 and 2002, the Dow fell 38% and the Nasdaq Composite Index shed 78%. This year's market collapse knocked 47% off the Dow in just over 12 months, returning stocks to 1997 levels. As of Friday, the Dow still was 39% off its 2007 record.
"The question is whether this series of very strong bear markets will cause investors to retrench as they did in the '70s," says Brian Reid, chief economist at ICI. "I think there will be some of that," he says, although perhaps not as bad as it was then.
People in the investment business hoped ordinary investors would return in large numbers when the market began recovering late in 2002. But this didn't happen.
In 2001, 53% of U.S. households held stock or stock funds, which turned out to be a peak. Now, about 46% of families own stocks, according to a report published last week by the ICI and the Securities Industry and Financial Markets Association.
The disaffection appears to be deepening. By the end of October, amid the most recent market collapse, retirement savers tracked by consulting group Hewitt Associates were sending 58% of their contributions to stock funds. That was down from 75% at the beginning of this year.
The decade's second bear market also brought big failures and scandals -- the end of venerable investment banks, an alleged $50 billion swindle by Wall Street stalwart Bernard Madoff -- to add to the collapses of Enron and WorldCom from earlier in the decade.
"For many investors, this has been a glimpse into the abyss," says Terrance Odean, a finance professor at the University of California, Berkeley, who has studied the behavior of individual investors. "They have been told that if you save regularly for retirement and buy and hold, you will be fine. Now, people see a possibility that this will not be the case."
Weak Hands
The market has given Karin Kuder a good ride over the past two decades, but now she's through. Starting in 1989, Ms. Kuder contributed as much as she could to her retirement fund, up to 15% of each paycheck. In the 1990s, she chose aggressive stock funds, moving to a more conservative mix after the 2001 terrorist attacks. Early this year, even after she retired as a nurse at a naval air station in Jacksonville, Fla., Ms. Kuder still held 60% stocks and 40% bonds.
In March, she trimmed her stock holdings to 50% of her portfolio. In October, with her account down $40,000, she ran out of confidence. "It was the only money I had," Ms. Kuder says. "I wasn't sleeping."
She phoned her financial adviser and said she wanted to put all her money in a safe place. The adviser persuaded her to leave 20% in stocks and bonds, but the rest went to a five-year fixed annuity, similar to a certificate of deposit, guaranteeing 5.1% a year.
"You put in all those years, and it is just falling right away from you," Ms. Kuder says. "I was so fearful that I was going to lose everything."
When market analysts talk about who's buying and who's selling in times like these, they sometimes speak of "weak hands" and "strong hands." Weak hands bail out when the market declines, seeking what they see as safer havens. Strong hands are committed to the market for the long term, buying shares at what may turn out to be big discounts. Right now, the market is being driven by the exit of these weak hands. Lasting recovery will come when some of these weak hands -- or the next wave of younger investors -- step back in.
There are signs that even younger investors are growing more fearful of stocks lately. Risk aversion has been on the rise this decade among all age groups, according to last week's report from the ICI and SIFMA. Although it will be long before young people need to tap their retirement savings, the losses they've seen in the current bear market could temper their enthusiasm for stocks for years to come.
Bright Future
Harris Cohen, a 25-year-old project manager with Amtrak in Washington, D.C., opened an individual retirement account in 2001, when he was 18, and filled it with stocks he thought had a bright future, including Apple Inc. and Garmin Ltd. He bought mutual funds that invest in alternative energy companies and utilities. He didn't bother with bonds.
![[Harris Cohen]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tKWfh-BGTYBNzuHkmY1rKmlmZ2yyfrmNGzQttJ9mQNktuJEEiAlpuULra69dGjHCDvnSOl3acrflYDxrgfgG49G5qtdDrH21oDTHBDA1xYSbV-5vAvnPqsuyKm7lVz_mhj5s71w1RpHPoz28ISPk6A=s0-d)
Harris Cohen
"I had a real good track record over five or six years, with increases from 10% to 20% a year," Mr. Cohen says. His portfolio has fallen about 40% over the past 18 months, he says.
In September, he began pulling back from stocks. Now, he has shifted his retirement savings to corporate bonds, a money-market fund and a few utility funds. He says he doubts he ever will view stocks the same way. "Even if the market were to rebound and the economy were to improve, I would be very loath to invest entirely in stocks," Mr. Cohen says.
While investor confidence is low, there are signs that it may have further to fall.
In 2001, people's hopes for stocks were extremely high. Only 5% of those surveyed expected average annual stock returns in the coming decade to be 5% or less, according to University of Oregon Prof. Paul Slovic, whose company, Decision Research, conducts the surveys. Today, nearly one-third of those surveyed expect such stock weakness, reflecting the decline in investor optimism.
But there is a surprising amount of optimism left. More than half of the small investors surveyed still expect annual gains of 10% or more over the next decade -- at, or above, historical averages.
At some point, these optimists may be right. Investors who jumped into the market at the height of the last love affair with stocks are still hurting. A $10,000 investment in 2000, into a fund tracking the S&P 500 with dividends reinvested, would be worth about $7,000, according to Morningstar Inc. Those who put $10,000 into the same index in 1982, at the end of the last decade of disaffection, would have more than $150,000.
—Shelly Banjo contributed to this article.Write to E.S. Browning at jim.browning@wsj.com
![[Dow Jones Industrial Average, weekly closes]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_uoflwP4AzamX-KlywBwfXvIyK3e9IDG-ekZLgRusc1HDwnDeh5lsb8Ei9lpW-dPYGj7HN1RI-UX72g6QmxZfdy5D1ZSKyY06SOW-71V6tPZCFItRr1E577C6itRGF_VSFKJ2LRq2VvFJLj7XgulTjnEg=s0-d)
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