Market capitalization of AMR, the parent of American Airlines: $5.4
billion
of AMR’s AAdvantage frequent flier program: $6 billion
Market capitalization of AMR, the parent of American Airlines: $5.4
billion
of AMR’s AAdvantage frequent flier program: $6 billion
The Wall Street Journal has a story entitled "Tech
Stocks Get Giddy 🙂" today – and yes, the smiley is in the headline.
It’s accompanied by a dreadful chart showing three stocks which are currently
at all-time highs: Research in Motion, Apple, and Google. Here’s the chart,
with Apple removed for clarity’s sake:
As you can see, the left-hand chart shows the nominal price of RIMM stock,
in Canadian dollars, over the past eight years. The right-hand chart shows the
nominal price of GOOG stock, in US dollars, over the past three years. The charts
are carefully aligned so that $0 and $100 and $200 are all along the same horizontal
line, as though nominal price in Canadian dollars and nominal price in US dollars
were really useful metrics. And they certainly make it seem as though GOOG has
done vastly better than RIMM.
In fact, GOOG has done better than RIMM, since the Google IPO, although not
by an enormous amount: it’s gone up from $100.34 to $569, which is an increase
of 467%. In the same time, RIMM stock has increased from $22.67 to $96.82, which
is an increase of 327%.
Over the past one year or two years, however – and this is something
you’d never work out from looking at the chart – RIMM has significantly
outperformed GOOG, rather than the other way around. Here’s a couple of charts
I made myself, rebasing the RIMM share price to the GOOG share price at the
time. Over the past 12 months, indeed, GOOG has pretty much gone nowhere in
comparison to RIMM:
Which is all to say that if you’re going to compare two or three different
stocks in the same chart, then you should compare all the stocks in the same
chart, rather than trying to compare them across different charts. Otherwise,
you can end up giving entirely the wrong impression.
Do you remember when commercial banking was all about knowing your client and
your clients’ industry and having strong relationships and parking billions
of dollars in loans in some dusty old part of the balance sheet which never
got marked to market or even really looked at? Neither do I, frankly. But today
I had a fascinating meeting with Tom Quindlen, the president and CEO of GE
Corporate Lending, who almost took me back to those halcyon days.
GE, it turns out, has a corporate lending department which is on track to lend
a lot of money this year – $20 billion – and even more
next year. It’s buried three levels down in the corporate hierarchy (it’s part
of Corporate Financial Services, which is part of GE Commercial Finance) and
it’s full of people who know their industry (steel, retail, timber, you name
it), and it’s been a major player in some very large syndicated loans, such
as the $1.9 billion debtor-in-possession facility for Delta Airlines and a $1.5
billion loan for Saudi chemicals company Sabic.
GE has a very old-fashioned attitude towards risk management: basically, it
involves GE lenders doing a lot of legwork before committing any capital, and
then trusting their own judgment. If GE underwrites a loan with the intention
of syndicating it out, then it will obviously keep an eye on the market value
of that debt – but if it’s going to keep the loan itself, it doesn’t mark
to market. GE also is very conservative: it deals only with senior secured loans,
which are the least likely to default.
There seems to be very little attempt to look at the bigger picture within
the GE Corporate Lending department. Talking to Quindlen, it sounds as though
his group is very strong on the bottom-up analysis of its portfolio companies,
but doesn’t spend much time on top-down analysis of where the US or global economy
might be headed, or even where the credit markets are going. Quindlen’s department’s
lending goals didn’t change at all during or after the credit crunch of July
and August, and they’re going to increase in 2008 no matter what happens to
the US economy. If spreads gap out, so much the better for him: it just means
more profits on the loans, especially since GE’s funding costs, given that it’s
a AAA-rated company, are extremely low. The fact that he might lose money on
his current portfolio if he had to liquidate it is irrelevant, since that will
never happen, and he holds loans to maturity (or to bankruptcy, in which case
GE can help with restructuring).
GE, then, is a very old-fashioned lending shop, with no prop desk and no real
way to hedge positions or to make a bet on spreads widening. But it’s solid,
and profitable, and creditworthy. And those are things in short supply these
days.
The penguin nails
it.
Now that I’ve started noticing
the "speculative bubble" meme, I seem to be seeing it everywhere.
The latest person to use it incorrectly (IMHO) is none other than Robert
Shiller:
According to the Standard & Poor’s/Case-Shiller US National Home
Price Index, home prices were already rising at almost 10% a year in 2000
– a time when the Fed was raising the federal funds rate, which peaked
at 6.5%. The rapid increase thus appears to be mostly the result of speculative
momentum that occurred before the interest-rate cuts.
Not all bubbles are speculative bubbles, and momentum can drive prices upwards
even in the absence of speculation. Consider a housing market which has been
rising at say 15% per year, or more. When a house comes on the market, a bidding
war ensues. Each house that comes onto the market sells for more than previous
comps. Sellers get greedy, ask for silly amounts of money, and, surprisingly
often, get what they ask for. Buyers get scared about being priced out of the
market, and desperately try to buy anything they can, just to get a foot on
the property bubble. You know the story: we’ve all seen it happen. But the point
is, there’s no speculation: the buyers aren’t buying to flip at a profit, and
aren’t motivated by the prospect of selling at a higher price in the future.
In fact, their real motivation is fear (of never being able to afford a house),
not greed.
For a prime example of a non-speculative housing bubble, look at Manhattan,
right now. Prices here are continuing to rise even as they’re falling elsewhere
in the country, and even after they’ve already risen much more than prices in
most of the rest of the country. And yet Manhattan has few if any condo flippers,
buy-to-letters, or other byproducts of a speculative mindset. For one thing,
most Manhattan apartments are co-ops, not condos, and it’s very hard to flip
a co-op. The vast majority of buyers in the Manhattan property market are simply
individuals who want to buy a home to live in. They’re not speculators a
la Miami Beach or Orange County.
So now cast your mind back to 2000, when Robert Shiller claims there was "speculative
momentum" in the US housing market. There was momentum, to be sure. But
2000 definitely predated the idea that speculating in property was an easy way
to make outsize profits. Back then, speculating in tech stocks was the easy
way to make outsize profits. The tech bubble had to burst before any kind of
speculative bubble in property really got started.
Leonard asks today whether anybody won in the showdown between GM and the
UAW. "There’s no triumph in this deal," he concludes. "Just resignation."
I’m slightly more optimistic, and I’d say that both sides won. After all, a
strike is economically destructive for both sides, which means that a speedy
resolution of any strike is always in both sides’ best interest. Often, anger
and resentment and mistrust between the two sides means that such a speedy resolution
is impossible. But when it does happen, that’s reason to stand up and applaud
the negotiators who prevented hundreds of millions of dollars being poured down
the drain.
In terms of the substance of the deal, it’s far from clear exactly what job-security
guarantees the UAW wanted (and went on strike to receive), and what they ended
up getting. Again, that’s good: it means that even after the union declared
a national strike, its leadership – as well as the leadership of GM –
was mature and disciplined enough not to go blabbing to the media about what
exactly was going on and how unreasonable the other side was being. After 48
hours, a deal was reached, and again neither side felt the need to crow the
media about the concessions they managed to win.
Obviously, a negotiation with no strike is better than a negotiation which
does end up with a strike action, no matter how short. But it seems to me that
this is the best possible outcome for all concerned, given that the workers
did actually walk off the job a couple of days ago.
There was a lot of bashing of the ratings agencies this morning at the Portfolio
subprime panel. It was timely, coming as it did ahead of Congressional hearings
on the ratings agencies and their role in the present mess. Investors and lawmakers
seem to be losing faith in the the ratings agencies – but it’s the latter
which the agencies should fear more, not the former.
The Wall
Street Journal says today that "if worries persist, ratings could be
viewed as less valuable, and issuers may become less willing to pay firms to
rate their bonds". But in reality, so long as the present regulatory regime
remains in place, the issuers essentially have no choice but to pay
firms to rate their bonds. The universe of bond investors is dominated by large
institutional investors who have a mandate to invest only in bonds with a certain
rating – and so long as those mandates exist, the ratings agencies will
continue to have a license to print money.
What’s more, a whole new universe of creditors is going to become very ratings-sensitive
in a few months’ time, as the long-awaited Basel II capital-adequacy regime
gets implemented across the international banking system. The amount of capital
that banks are required to hold against any given loan will now be a function
of the debtor’s credit rating – giving banks every incentive to lend to
highly-rated weak companies rather than stronger, lower-rated entities.
Is that possible? Can a highly-rated company really be more likely to default
than a credit with a lower credit rating? Yes:
According to Moody’s, corporate bonds rated Baa (their lowest investment
grade) had a 5-year average default rate of 2.2% over from the period between
1983 and 2005. However, CDOs with the same Baa ratings suffered 5-year default
rates of 24%. Investment grade corporate bonds and investment grade CDOs are
not the same, and a CDO with a borderline investment grade rating is really
the equivalent to a junk bond.
If you look at Baa-rated municipal bonds, the difference is even larger: the
default rate on Baa-rated munis was actually just 0.09%, according to one of
the panelists this morning. "There can be a 250x difference in the probability
of default for this given Baa rating," he said.
So it’s not the investors that the ratings agencies need to worry about: it’s
the regulators. If they stopped requiring pension funds and the like to invest
only in bonds with a certain rating, then demand for ratings would surely plunge.
My friends don’t tend to collect art, but it seems that their friends
do. Yesterday afternoon, I found out that a friend of a friend had sold his
Zhang Xiaogang at Sotheby’s for $400,000; and then yesterday evening I found
out that a friend of an entirely different friend had sold his Zhang
Xiaogang at Sotheby’s, too, for $1 million. Both sales fell well short of the
$3.1 million that "Chapter of a New Century — Birth of the People’s Republic
of China" managed
to fetch, but I can tell you that the $400,000 painting is just 15 3/4 by
11 3/4 inches, or about the size of two pieces of standard letter paper. I can
also tell you that it was bought for $7,000 about 10 years ago, which gives
it an annualized rate of return of 50%, more or less.
As for the $1 million painting, it was bought for about $15,000, and then,
a few years ago, its owner moved cities. Not wanting the hassle of transporting
the canvas, he tried to sell it back to the gallery for the same price he paid
for it – and the gallery refused.
I can say with some confidence, then, that these paintings were not bought
with speculative intent. But a lot of Chinese collectors now want to repatriate
their country’s patrimony, especially with regard to important artists of the
1990s such as Zhang. And they way they can do that is by bidding up his values
to a level at which the paintings can get shaken loose from the grasp of collectors
who happened to be in the right place at the right time and got lucky.
It might make sense to consider the market in Zhang to be a bubble: certainly
his price appreciation would seem to be unsustainable. On the other hand, he’s
certainly an important Chinese artist, and with art it can be very difficult
to know exactly who and where owners of important works are. Often the only
way to get them to reveal themselves is to bid up the market for those works
until the prices are so silly that the original buyers consign their pieces
for sale.
On Monday, I met Jim Whitton, a director of The
Hunger Project, in a midtown cafe. The Hunger Project (THP) is a well-run
non-profit which works efficiently and tirelessly towards sustainable poverty
reduction in the developing world. With Whitton was Roger Hamilton, the chairman
of something called the XL Group,
which has just announced
that it will give $5 million over five years to THP’s programmes in India. The
formal commitment is being made today, at the Clinton
Global Initiative.
The deal is a winning one for all concerned. The Clinton Global Initiative
has done what it was set up to do, which is catalyze commitments to improving
the planet. The Hunger Project receives a large donation. And Roger Hamilton
gets to be mentioned in the same breath as Bill Clinton, helping to give his
XL Group kudos and respectability.
Hamilton loves to talk about creating his network of "social entrepeneurs,"
who give at least 10% of their profits to charity, and who will be a powerful
force in terms of global poverty alleviation. In fact, Hamilton just loves to
talk. He talks with great conviction and at great length, and he has turned
his ability to talk into what I’m sure is a very lucrative business. For $3,300
you can hear him talk at his Entrepreneur
Business School ("a journey of self and entrepreneurial discovery"),
while for a mere $105 you can buy his 6-CD set called Wealth
Dynamics ("a revolutionary technology that will guide you on your path
to wealth"). Meanwhile, his magazine
is a peculiar mix of inspirational stories with advertisements for "franchising
opportunities" and the like.
Of course, there’s no shortage of get-rich-quick merchants, and I find it interesting
that Hamilton has hit upon giving money to charity as the way in which he distinguishes
himself from the rest of the pack. Every time you sign up for one of his products,
you feel good about it, because you know that he’s giving some of the proceeds
to charity and in fact that you and your fellow XL entrepeneurs are all pulling
together in the service of a greater cause – while making lots of money,
of course. The strategy seems to be working, too, at least for XL Group if not
for its members.
This, then, is one reason why I still feel a little uncomfortable about the
idea of for-profit philanthropy. In theory, and when it’s practiced by the likes
of Pierre Omidyar or Google.org or Richard Branson, it’s a great idea and can
work very well. But it can also create major conflicts of interest, as we
saw with Banco Compartamos. And I fear that if the idea really starts to
catch on then it risks being hijacked by the likes of Roger Hamilton, and people
will view it with even more suspicion than they do already.
A bit of a late start this morning, thanks to a Portfolio breakfast (of which
more later) hosted by Jesse Eisinger on the subject of the subprime meltdown.
Joe Mason of Drexel University was there, and was very rude about lending to
bad credits in general, not just in the housing market specifically. It doesn’t
matter what the product is, he said: it can be credit cards, or home-equity
lines of credit, or mortgages. Ultimately, poor people don’t care about interest
rates because they don’t have any money and won’t repay their loans in any case.
I don’t buy it, and neither did one of the other panelists, a hedge-fund manager
who pointed out astutely that the very labeling of the subprime crisis makes
it easy to delude oneself that the problem is at one remove. "Subprime
is a very convenient term used by elites in the media and on Wall Street because
it implies that there’s something wrong with the borrowers, and also with the
lenders," he said. "What you have in reality is just a broader mispricing
of credit."
The fact is that it’s wrong to simply paint all subprime lending as misguided.
Subprime borrowers can be responsible borrowers, and enlightened lenders can
make good money from them by helping them improve their credit and build themselves
a solid financial foundation.
When subprime lending goes bad it’s usually because lenders get greedy, and
move into the realm of predatory lending, trying to extract as much juice from
the borrower as possible before a bankruptcy made inevitable by usurious interest
rates.
The present subprime crisis is similar, in that lenders were extending credit
without much if any regard for borrowers’ ability to repay the full amount over
time. It wasn’t worth worrying about whether or not the borrower could afford
the interest rate on the loan once the teaser rate expired, because by that
point both borrower and lender expected that the loan would be refinanced. The
lender would make money anyway, because its large fees were capitalized into
the loan, and because it would charge a substantial repayment penalty. But that
model is clearly unsustainable no matter what the creditworthiness of the borrower:
option-ARMs were essentially bridge loans, and bridge loans fail when they can’t
be taken out, leaving the lender with large losses.
So let’s not delude ourselves that the subprime problem is just another example
of poor people being bad with their finances. What happened in subprime is actually
very similar to what
happened in commercial real estate, or in private-equity
buyouts: the loans were so large that they can never be paid down, only
ever refinanced. If and when the value of the underlying assets falls, both
borrowers and lenders will suffer greatly.
I have very few books in my office, which is quite small, but in pride of place
on my reference shelf stands Angus Maddison’s masterful reference work "The
World Economy". No one has spent more time or effort trying to put
together reliable economic statistics for different parts of the world over
the past thousand years (!), and the results are invaluable.
Now comes news
that Maddison’s "Contours
of the World Economy 1-2030 AD: Essays in Macro-Economic History" is
being released in November. This book is just as ambitious as his last, drier,
tome, and looks to be aiming at Jared Diamond territory:
This book seeks to identify the forces which explain how and why some parts
of the world have grown rich and others have lagged behind. Encompassing 2000
years of history, part 1 begins with the Roman Empire and explores the key
factors that have influenced economic development in Africa, Asia, the Americas
and Europe. Part 2 covers the development of macroeconomic tools of analysis
from the 17th century to the present. Part 3 looks to the future and considers
what the shape of the world economy might be in 2030. Combining both the close
quantitative analysis for which Professor Maddison is famous with a more qualitative
approach that takes into account the complexity of the forces at work, this
book provides students and all interested readers with a totally fascinating
overview of world economic history.
I can’t wait.
The Economist notes the
evolution of the economics of luxury goods over the past year: while the
goods themselves have increased in price by 6%, twice the rate of inflation,
the income of the rich has increased by 9%, or three times the rate of inflation.
So a question for any economists reading this: what should happen to demand
for luxury goods in such a situation? (Assume that only the rich buy luxury
goods, for the sake of argument, and assume also that these aren’t Veblen goods
which are bought because they’re expensive.) On the one hand, when
the price of a good goes up in real terms, then demand falls. On the other hand,
the price of the good is actually going down in percentage-of-disposable-income
terms, which implies that demand will rise.
But I think there’s another, subtler question lurking in the background, which
has to do with the psychoeconomics of purchasing decisions. If you want a certain
good, there are two reasons why you might not buy it. The first is simply that
it’s too expensive for you: you can’t afford it, or buying it will eat up too
much of your disposable income. The second is unrelated to the amount of money
you have: if someone tries to sell you a biro for $300, you’ll refuse to buy
it, even if you want a disposable pen and even if you’re so rich that you wouldn’t
even notice the loss of $300.
I ask this because right now I’m torn about a forthcoming meal. There’s a certain
restaurant I want to go to. It’s a very good restaurant, and it’s rather expensive,
and frankly it’s well outside my normal budget for such things. But I’ve heard
amazing things about the place, and I have a special occasion coming up, and,
if I only go there once this year, I can afford it. So half of me (actually,
a bit more than half, since I’ve made the reservation, and will be going there)
says, well, this is what it costs, you want it, you can afford it, so just spend
the money already.
But part of me is rebelling, too, and saying that the restaurant is overpriced,
even if it is excellent, and that therefore I shouldn’t be going. The
restaurant in question makes it essentially impossible not to spend
a lot of money: there’s a prix-fixe menu with no a la carte option, the wine
list is expensive, and their corkage fee is very high too. There’s no way a
meal for two is going to cost less than, say, an 80GB
iPod, or a 13"
x 19" Mike Monteiro print in an edition of 20. And that’s excluding
whatever I spend on a bottle of wine, if I bring one with me. If there are other
things which are cheaper and which I’m not buying and which I value more, should
I not go to the restaurant?
Paul Kedrosky has found a Greenwich Associates report saying that "more
than 60% of participants active in corporate bonds say they have experienced
trouble getting a simple price quote from dealers on these usually liquid products".
Is this, as he says, "an
eye-opening statistic on the credit crunch"?
On its own, I think the answer is no. If we could compare the 60% number in
a time series with the answer to the same question at various more liquid times,
then it would be more useful.
Even then, however, one would expect that most bond investors own one or two
issues which are likely to suffer from illiquidity when credit markets seize
up as they did this summer. They (should) expect as much. It’s not like anybody’s
saying that 60% of corporate bond issues are suffering from illiquidity, or
even 6%. Anybody who invests in corporate bonds knows that they’re investing
in an asset class which suffers in any flight to liquidity or quality. And during
a credit crunch, there’s really no such thing as "a simple price quote".
Besides, with the advent of the CDS market, you don’t actually need
a price quote in order to hedge your positions in corporate bonds: you can just
buy credit protection instead. So I think there’s less to this particular datapoint
than meets the eye.
In my Q&A
with Susan Scafidi, I asked about Jim Surowiecki’s assertion that the world
of magic tricks manages to be innovative despite a lack of copyright protection.
Susan replied that there might be no copyright protection, but that didn’t mean
that magic tricks didn’t have their own, idiosyncratic, protection mechanisms:
Since my father is a serious amateur magician (and I confess to having performed
a bit myself years ago), magic tricks are my favorite inapposite example.
Not only is the literature copyrighted, but many effects are deliberately
kept secret by magicians, and unlike fashion can’t be torn apart at the seams
by interlopers. Penn & Teller’s antics aside, there’s a guild –
and it takes some effort to reach the inner circle.
Now, Alea has found
paper by Jacob Loshin which explains in fascinating detail how magic tricks
are protected in practice. Here’s a taster:
“Popular magic” remains easy to find. Anyone can go to the library
to learn it or walk into the local magic shop to purchase it. This gives the
false impression that the magic community does a poor job of controlling access
to its secrets. In fact, however, the easy availability of “popular
magic” brilliantly achieves what magicians call “misdirection.”
“Popular magic” serves to satisfy those in search of the cheap
secret. And “popular magic” gives them just that—cheap secrets.
These secrets are harmless in the hands of the general public, since they
tend not to compromise the more valuable secrets that magicians aim to preserve.
And here’s an excellent example of the magicians’ enforcement mechanism, from
a magician named Walter Zaney Blaney:
[A] company in England, Illusions Plus, was selling still another rip-off
of my illusion. When I protested to the owner, James Antony, he told me there
was no court in the world which could stop him from what he was doing. I explained
I had no intention of going to court. I instead simply told my many friends
in [London’s] Magic Circle about it…
When the word spread, soon Mr. Antony ‘had a problem.’ As things
turned out, there was indeed a court which promptly put him out of business…
the bankruptcy court.
Go read the whole thing: I promise no magic-trick secrets are revealed!
Bo Peabody’s companies pay
their ad sales staff well, it would seem:
Digital ad sales at the entry level are getting multiple six figure salaries.
I tried checking this with my friendly neighborhood digital entrepeneur, who
told me that a junior digital ad sales person who actually gets out of the office
and sells can easily make $150,000 a year. Which isn’t necessarily a "multiple
six figure salary", unless you consider 1.5 to be the multiple that Peabody
had in mind, but it’s still a fair chunk of change.
By contrast, the average sales person on a magazine, according to Folio’s
latest salary survey, makes somewhere between $71,000 and $83,000 in total
compensation.
GM strike makes sense to me. The key issue for the union, quite properly,
is the jobs of its members. The last time the UAW went on national strike, in
1970, it had 400,000 members; now, it has 73,000. It has failed to prevent the
loss of over 300,000 jobs, even as GM has been creating new jobs overseas. So
despite coming to an agreement on the crucial healthcare issue, GM wants to
be able to reduce its US workforce even further, and it’s hard to see how it
would be in the union’s interest to allow that to happen.
Note that this strike is not about pay, and not about benefits:
it’s about job security. So I’m puzzled when Matt Cooper says
that inflation hawks "will look at any settlement as pressure on prices".
They won’t, for two big reasons.
Firstly, GM does not have pricing power. It competes against Japanese manufacturers
who are perceived by the public as being higher quality than GM’s offerings.
If GM tries to charge significantly more than Honda and Toyota, it simply won’t
sell cars.
Secondly, a settlement would not imply higher car prices anyway, and neither
would it imply higher unit labor costs. The outcome of this strike will affect
one big thing: where the extra marginal dollar of GM revenue goes. Now Matt
might like to see that money to GM’s shareholders; personally, I’d rather see
it go to GM’s workers. But either way, the net effect on inflation is the same.
And in general, wage inflation is a good thing, if price inflation
remains controlled: it means people are being paid more money, in both nominal
and real terms. This strike might be a big deal for GM, but it has very little
in the way of macroecnomic consequences.
Greg Mankiw reckons that prepayment
penalties are a Bad Thing, and approves of David
Laibson’s plan to abolish them. Writes Mankiw:
When I refinanced my mortgage not long ago, one of my first questions was,
Are there any prepayment penalties? I figured that as long as the answer was
no, I was less likely to be hit with strange, hidden provisions down the road.
Mankiw’s commenters (and Brad
DeLong’s, too) get into a healthy debate about this proposal, but now Tomasz
Piskorski and Alexei Tchistyi have a
long paper out which claims with great empirical rigor that in a perfect
world the exact opposite would be true. Instead of no mortgages having prepayment
penalties, all mortgages would ban prepayment altogether, or at least have very
large prepayment penalties.
Peter Coy tries
to explain, in English:
The economists say the optimal loan contract would outright ban getting a
new loan from a different lender. There are no such bans. But they say that
the prepayment penalties that are common in subprime loans are a good second
best. How could that be? Because lenders will offer more favorable terms if
they know that they’ll be able to hang onto the loan long enough for it to
be profitable. If they fear that the borrower will refinance at the drop of
a hat, they’ll give less favorable terms.
In fact it’s slightly more complicated than that. Here’s what the paper says:
The optimal contracts do not allow borrowers to refinance their mortgages
with another lender. Offering this option would increase the borrower’s reservation
value, which would limit the ability to provide him incentives to repay his
debt, resulting in a decrease of efficiency of the contract.
I’m not going to try to get into the specifics of reservation value (see page
11 of the paper for all the details), but it’s basically homeowner’s equity:
the amount of money that the borrower would have left over if he sold the house
and moved.
Indeed, the paper says that not only prepayment but even renegotiation is a
bad idea in an economically-optimal mortgage:
We also did not allow for contract renegotiations, because a possibility
of renegotiation would lead to a suboptimal contract.
I have to say that I’m having a lot of difficulty with this idea: since a successful
renegotiation has to be acceptable to both sides, what’s not to like about it?
If the lender would be better off with the original contract, it can simply
refuse to renegotiate.
In any case, I’m sure that Greg Mankiw, who recently refinanced his mortgage,
is happy that he was able to do so. But it is interesting that in some kind
of ideal world, there would be enormous-to-the-point-of-insurmountable obstacles
preventing him from doing just that.
Callen Bair, responding to my post
on speculative bubbles, tells me that there
is speculation in the art market after all. Who are these speculators?
They’re rich; they want to spend their money; and it might as well be on
something that broadens their social horizons and might even make them some
money. Potential profitability is one of those niggling factors in the back
of this kind of collector’s mind. So why shouldn’t we assume that if art prices
take a swan dive — or threaten to do so — these collectors will
be less likely to buy that sculpture?
Callen is quite right that an imploding art market will definitely put the
dampeners on buyers’ appetite for art. But she’s wrong if she thinks that’s
evidence that a speculative bubble exists.
One clue is when Callen says that these purported speculators "want to
spend their money". Spending money is what Steve Schwarzman does
on crab claws or birthday parties; it’s not what speculators do with tech stocks
or Miami condos. Those are bought, or invested in: there’s no implication that
once the money is spent, it’s gone.
Art is expensive, and anybody spending a lot of money on art is likely to want
some kind of reassurance that it has a good chance of retaining its value, and
maybe even of appreciating. People feel much better about their Warhol, which
is worth ten times what they paid for it, than they do about their Fischl, which
is worth a quarter of what they paid back in 1989.
Certainly, people are willing to pay more money for a painting if they think
it has a good chance of rising in value. If that happens, you see, they haven’t
really spent any money at all: they’ve just converted it from cash
into art, just like buying stocks doesn’t (in their mind) count as spending
either.
But none of this means that such people are speculators. A typical art buyer
wants to buy something which will increase in value – that’s perfectly
normal. But when the purchase is made, there’s no specific intention to sell
the piece at a profit within the next couple of years. The "potential profitability"
that art buyers are worried about is theoretical profitability –
how much is the art going to be worth. It’s not real-world profitability
– how much the buyer would be able to receive for the piece, in practice,
if they sold it in a couple of years’ time.
Which isn’t to say that if the art market goes through the roof, and their
dealer asks them nicely, the buyers won’t part with the work for a substantial
profit. But for a speculative bubble to exist, you need much more than that:
you need people buying art in the sole hope and expectation of selling it at
a profit, and you need those people to have visibly succeeded to the point at
which other people start to crowd into the market in an attempt to replicate
those money-making strategies.
But there are precious few art collectors (as opposed to art dealers) who have
made a lot of money in the art market. Perhaps David Geffen might be one, insofar
as he bought well and then took the opportunity to sell when he thought he might
need a lot of cash on hand to make a bid for the LA Times. But he’s no speculator,
and I don’t think many people are trying to follow his lead.
Ten years ago, the GBP/USD exchange rate was 1.61. Today, it’s 2.02. Over that
timeframe, the
Economist tells us, UK housing prices have risen by 211%, compared to just
120% in the US. Which means that in dollar terms, UK house prices have actually
risen by 265% in the past ten years – more than double the rate of appreciation
in the US.
As the Economist explains, the prick which caused the US bubble to burst was
not overstretched valuations, but rather subprime mortgages:
What sets America apart is the time-bomb laid by subprime mortgage lending
in the late stages of the housing boom. The way many of these deals were structured—two
or three years of low “teaser” rates, which then switch to much
higher tariffs—gave homebuyers with tarnished credit records a free
option on house prices. If prices are expected to rise enough, borrowers may
be willing to pay higher interest charges in order to keep the equity gains.
If prices fall short of their hopes, borrowers have an incentive to default.
Or, to put it another way, if Alan Greenspan had wanted to burst the housing
bubble, he probably couldn’t have come up with a better way of doing it than
to encourage the widespread sale of subprime mortgages.
(This also, by the way, helps to explain why the New York housing bubble hasn’t
burst: there are basically zero subprime mortgages in Manhattan.)
So the US might be going through some nasty housing-related pain right now.
But if this pain has prevented the bubble getting much, much bigger, then maybe
it’s not such a bad thing. Because if and when the bubble bursts in places like
the UK and Ireland (+251% in 10 years, in local-currency terms), the aftermath
there could be much worse than it currently is on this side of the pond.
I’m late to this game, I know, but in the wake of links from Mark
Thoma, Tyler
Cowen, and Megan
McArdle, let me be the latest to welcome Econospeak
to the blogosphere. Anybody who will join me in defending
cap-and-trade against carbon taxes is a hero in my book!
Econospeak is a left-leaning group blog which serves, inter alia,
as the successor blog to MaxSpeak.
It’s a bit wonkier, a bit more wide-ranging, and a bit less politically partisan,
all of which are good things. It’s in my blogroll already.
You can always tell when the newsflow slows down in the financial world, because
invariably some columnist will trot out another brave
reëvaluation of credit derivatives. Here’s Scott Patterson:
The power of these derivatives — most of which were launched just in the
past few years — is scrambling the way some investors think about financial
markets. Brian Reynolds of M.S. Howells & Co. says he would be more bullish
about stocks, except for pesky credit derivatives.
They "add a whole level of complexity" to the market, he says, due
to the ability of bearish investors to make bets that credit markets will
deteriorate. If they start to turn lower again, that could reignite fears
of a credit crunch, hitting stocks.
Credit markets also are dancing to the tune of these derivatives, experts
say. Earlier this year, several Dow Jones indexes based on derivatives of
high-yield bonds started selling off before an index tracking the cash market
for high-yield bonds dropped. In other words, moves in the derivatives foreshadowed
the turmoil that gripped global markets…
Investors such as Mr. Reynolds worry that since credit markets are sensitive
to swings by these often volatile derivatives, the broader market may become
more vulnerable to panic attacks like this summer’s.
Let’s take these one at a time. Firstly, credit derivatives aren’t "launched".
Indexes based on credit derivatives are launched, but those indices,
even if they’re tradeable, reflect underlying trades in the CDS market, which
spring up of their own accord as demand for such instruments rises.
Next, blaming "bearish investors" for markets falling is a bit like
that old saw about how it’s always short-sellers’ fault when a stock drops in
price. Markets go up and down, and bulls make money in up markets, and bears
make money in down markets. Just because it’s easier to make a bearish bet does
not increase the chances that a market will fall.
And there’s a very good reason why credit indices started falling before bond
indices: the CDS market is more liquid than the bond market. Many bonds barely
trade, which is why it can take a while for bearish sentiment to show up in
bond indices. But because the CDS market is more liquid, credit indices can
spot that bearishness earlier. This does not mean that bonds are "dancing
to the tune" of the CDS market: it just means that you can’t trust bond
indices during times of market volatility, because the pricing data underlying
those indices might be days old.
Finally, what is meant by "these often volatile derivatives"? We’ve
had one period of extreme volatility in the CDS market, which happened
to coincide with extreme volatility in a lot of other markets, too. In fact,
the CDS market, as it became increasingly important and liquid over the past
few years, surprised everybody with a decided lack of volatility.
Markets do sometimes panic. When they panic, liquidity dries up, and it becomes
impossible to buy or sell certain assets. At times like that, asset classes
which retain some modicum of liquidity are more important than ever. So I’d
be inclined to say that the CDS market, far from making the broader market more
vulnerable to panic attacks, in fact has served as a sort of escape valve: a
market where panicked traders can let off steam, and important pricing information
can be obtained.
To be sure, the CDS market is not perfect. For one thing, credit default swaps
aren’t securities, and they aren’t traded on any exchange, so there’s a decided
lack of transparency in the market. And yes, at the margin, increased liquidity
in the CDS market means decreased liquidity in the bond market, which is not
a good thing. But when people start blaming the CDS market for something like
a plunge in stock-market prices, treat their claims with a lot of skepticism.
Publisher of Forbes Magazine, a Regular on Fox, Blames the Mortgage Meltdown
on Sex Ed
Yes, really.
(Via Dealbreaker)
Now here’s an interesting recipe for growth: how does utter financial
collapse and skyrocketing inflation sound? Writes
the Grouse today:
When the Russian debt markets blew up, there was a massive devaluation of
the ruble, which made it hard for Russians to keep snapping up all the imports
they had been favoring. This meant that the final years of Yeltsin’s administration
bolstered Russia’s declining industrial base and laid the groundwork for a
redevelopment of payrolls and confidence under Putin. Could a similar fate
await Detroit and the rest of the industrial heartland as the dollar continues
its slide? Will Bentonville look to Biloxi rather than Beijing for extruded
goods?
I’m pretty sure he’s not serious. But just for the record: the ruble went from
6.29 to 21 to the dollar in the space of just
over a month. An equivalent move would take the euro/dollar exchange rate
from 1.40 to 4.67. Inflation in Russia hit 84% in 1998, after the devaluation.
And the "bolstering of Russia’s declining industrial base"? Are you
driving a Russian car right now, or looking covetously at Russian washing machines?
Er, no. Russia has no industrial base to speak of: its newfound wealth is entirely
commodities-based, and is the consequence not of devaluation but rather of the
fact that prices for everything from oil and gas to nickel and gold have been
soaring over the past decade.
Oh, and did I mention that just about every Russian credit defaulted on its
debts in 1998?
On the other hand, I’ve long been of the opinion that Vladimir Putin and Rudy
Giuliani were somehow separated at birth. If Rudy can build a respectable political
campaign on the strength of his response to a single terrorist attack, just
imagine how attractive he would be in the wake of utter financial and economic
collapse!
Repeat after me: The fact that oil prices are denominated in dollars means…
absolutely nothing. Dean Baker has been banging
this drum for a few days now, most recently attacking
the Washington Post for saying that "since crude oil is priced in dollars,
a weak dollar makes oil cheaper abroad and high prices in dollars more sustainable."
Dean likes to show how ridiculous this kind of commentary is by saying that
it wouldn’t matter if oil were denominated in gallons of peanut butter. But
obviously that isn’t working, so let me try another tack.
There are two things making headlines for hitting all-time highs right now:
oil, and the euro. Both of them are denominated (measured) in dollars. So let’s
see what the Washington Post’s sentence would look like if we substituted "the
euro" for "crude oil":
Since the euro is priced in dollars, a weak dollar makes the euro cheaper
abroad and a high exchange rate more sustainable.
A weak dollar makes the euro cheaper abroad, in places like Japan
or Brazil? I don’t think so. And of course the sustainability of the exchange
rate has nothing to do with the level of the exchange rate.
(By the way, it’s not just the Washington Post and NPR who are making this
mistake: Ben
Stein does it too. Which should in itself persuade journalists across the
nation that they should stop talking such nonsense forthwith.)
Elder kicks off his guest-blogging stint over at Mixed Media in fine style
this morning, with the story that Time Warner is thinking about an IPO of its
magazine-publishing arm, Time Inc. I’m not convinced this will happen, for a
number of reasons.
than anybody at Time Warner. Which means that this could be an attempt by
bankers to get Time Warner brass to take the idea seriously. Such attempts
do actually work, some of the time. But they can also backfire, as well.
Time Inc, but it’s unlikely to be enormous in the context of a company with
an enterprise value of over $100 billion. The magazine-publishing arm has
some very profitable franchises, but it’s also – and possibly more importantly
– a source of prestige. Without Time Inc, Time Warner becomes a failing
internet company (AOL) with a cable company (Warner Communications) attached.
The only vaguely glamorous bit of the company would be Warner Brothers.
Inc are very useful to Time Warner right now. Last
quarter, Time Inc accounted for 11% of Time Warner’s sales, but 24% of
Time Warner’s net income.
Inc: stand-alone magazine publishing companies don’t tend to stand alone for
long. If Time Warner were really serious about selling Time Inc, it could
probably get more from a strategic buyer than it could from an IPO –
assuming, of course, that the buyer could line up the financing right now.
If it couldn’t, then maybe it would make sense for Time Warner to hold off
on the divestiture until credit markets become a bit more liquid.