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Critique of Central Banking
By
Henry
C K Liu
Part I: Monetary
theology
Part II:
The
European Experience
Part
III-a: The
US
Experience
Part III-b: More
on the US Experience
Part III-c:
Still More on
the US Experience
Part III-d: The lessons of the US experience
This article appeared in AToL
on December 21, 2002
Hyper-inflation is destructive to the economy generally but it hurts
wage earners more because of wage stickiness and inelasticity, causing
wages to fall constantly behind the hyper-inflation rate.
Hyper-inflation keeps prices rising so fast that it tends to reduce the
volume of business transactions and to restrain economic activities.
Hyper-inflation has brought down many government throughout history,
and thus monetary-policy makers have developed a special sensitivity
toward it. For private business, loss of sales under hyper-inflation
can sometimes be temporarily compensated by inventory appreciation if
the interest rate is below the inflation rate, but under such
conditions credit to finance inventory would soon dry up.
Moderate inflation benefits both the rich and the poor, though not
equally, because it not only keeps asset prices rising, of which the
rich own more, it also equalizes wealth distribution, making the rich
less privileged. Moderate inflation enables the middle class to raise
its standard of living faster through borrowing that can be paid back
with depreciated dollars, as most homeowners in the United States have
done in recent decades. Lenders would continue to lend under moderate
inflation even if real interest rates yield a narrower or even a
slightly negative spread over the inflation rate, because idle money
would suffer more loss under moderate inflation and because moderate
inflation reduces the default rate, thus making even a narrow spread
between interest rate and inflation rate profitable to lenders.
Moderate inflation also stimulates growth, which means a larger
economic pie for all even if the slice of the pie for lenders may be
smaller. Moderate inflation negates the fatalistic American folklore
that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and enables the
American dream of social and economic mobility.
Deflation increases the purchasing power of money, but it puts upward
pressure on unemployment and downward pressure on aggregate income.
Thus, given a choice between deflation and hyper-inflation, owners of
real assets tend to prefer hyper-inflation, under which wage earners
are forced to into lower real wages after inflation. Policy makers
always hope that hyper-inflation can be brought back under control
within a short period of crisis management, before political damage
sets in. Central banks in desperate times would look to hyper-inflation
to "provide what essentially amounts to catastrophic financial
insurance coverage," as US Federal Reserve Board chairman Alan
Greenspan suggested in a November 19 address on International Financial
Risk Management to the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR) in
Washington.
Over the past two and a half years, since February 2000, the draining
impact of a loss of US$8 trillion of stock-market wealth (80 percent of
gross domestic product, or GDP), and of the financial losses associated
with September 11, 2001, has had a highly destabilizing effect on the
aggregate debt-equity ratio in the US financial system, and has pushed
the ratio below levels conventionally required for sound finance. Total
debt in the US economy now runs to $32 trillion, of which $22 trillion
is private-sector debt. This private debt now is backed by $8 trillion
less in equity, an amount in excess of one-third of the debt. Greenspan
attributed the system's ability to sustain such a sudden rise of
debt-to-equity ratio to debt securitization and the hedging effect of
financial derivatives, which transfer risk throughout the entire
system. "Obviously, this market is still too new to have been tested in
a widespread down-cycle for credit," Greenspan allowed.
In recent years, the rapidly growing use of more complex and less
transparent instruments such as credit-default swaps, collateralized
debt obligations, and credit-linked notes has had a net effect of
transferring individual risks to systemic risk. Greenspan acknowledged
that derivatives, by construction, are highly leveraged, a condition
that is both a large benefit and an Achilles' heel. It appears that the
benefit has been reaped in the past decade, leading to a wishful
declaration of the end of the business cycle. Now we are faced with the
Achilles' heel: "the possibility of a chain reaction, a cascading
sequence of defaults that will culminate in financial implosion if it
proceeds unchecked. Only a central bank, with its unlimited power to
create money, can with a high probability thwart such a process before
it becomes destructive. Hence, central banks have, of necessity, been
drawn into becoming lenders of last resort," explained Greenspan.
Greenspan asserted that such "catastrophic financial insurance
coverage" should be reserved for only the rarest of occasions to avoid
moral hazard. He observed correctly that in competitive financial
markets, the greater the leverage, the higher must be the rate of
return on the invested capital before adjustment for higher risk. Yet
there is no evidence that higher risk in financial manipulation leads
to higher return for investment in the real economy, as recent defaults
by Enron, Global Crossing, WorldCom, Tyco, Conseco and sovereign
Argentine credits have shown. Higher risks in finance engineering
merely provided higher returns from speculation temporarily, until the
day of reckoning, at which point the high returns can suddenly turn in
equally high losses.
The individual management of risk, however sophisticated, does not
eliminate risk in the system. It merely passes on the risk to other
parties for a fee. In any risk play, the winners must match the losers
by definition. The fact that a systemic payment-default catastrophe has
not yet surfaced only means that the probability of its occurrence will
increase with every passing day. It is an iron law understood by every
risk manager. By socializing their risks and privatizing their
speculative profits, risk speculators hold hostage the general public,
whose welfare the Fed now uses as a pretext to justify printing money
to perpetuate these speculators' joyride. What kind of logic supports
the Fed's acceptance of a natural rate of unemployment to combat
inflation while it prints money without reserve to bail out private
speculators to fight deflation created by a speculative crash?
It has been forgotten by many that before 1913, there was no central
bank in the United States to bail out troubled commercial or investment
banks or to keep inflation in check by trading employment for price
stability. The House of Morgan then held the power of deciding which
banks should survive and which ones should fail and, by extension,
deciding which sector of the economy should prosper and which should
shrink. At least the House of Morgan used private money for its
predatory schemes of controlling the money supply for its own narrow
benefit. The issue of centralized private banking was part of the
Sectional Conflict of the 1800s between America's industrial North and
the agricultural South that eventually led to the Civil War. The South
opposed a centralized private banking system that would be controlled
by Northeastern financial interests, protective tariffs to help
struggling Northeast industries and federal aid to transportation
development for opening up the Midwest and the West for investment
intermediated through Northeastern money trusts.
Money, classical economics' view of it notwithstanding, is not neutral.
Money is a political issue. It is a matter of deliberate choice made by
the state. The supply of money and its cost, as well as the allocation
of credit, have direct social implications. Policies on money reward or
punish different segments of the population, stimulate or restrain
different economic sectors and activities. They affect the distribution
of political power. Democracy itself depends on a populist money
policy.
The concept of a Federal Reserve System was first championed by
Populists, who were ordinary citizens, rather than sophisticated
economists or captured politicians or powerful bankers. In 1887, a
group of desperate farmers in Lampasas county, Texas, formed the
Knights of Reliance to resist impending ruin by "more speedily
educating themselves" about the day when "all the balance of labor's
products become concentrated into the hands of a few". It became the
Farmers Alliance, which by 1890 had flowered into the Populist
Movement. The Populist agenda was a major reform platform for more than
five decades, giving the nation a progressive income tax, federal
regulation of railroads, communications and other public utilities,
anti-trust regimes, price stabilization and credit programs for
farmers. Lyndon B Johnson was the last president with strong populist
roots but tragically his populist domestic vision of the Great Society
was torpedoed by the Vietnam quagmire.
The core issue behind the Populist Movement was money. Populists
attacked the "money trusts", the gold standard, and the private
centralized banking system. The spirit of this brief movement was
captured by Lawrence Goodwyn in his book Democratic Promise: The
Populist Movement in America. Falling prices of farm produce were the
catalyst of protest. Falling prices were also inevitably accompanied by
usurious interest rates. Both flowed from one condition: a scarcity of
money. Most Americans today do not remember what historians call the
Great Deflation that lasted three decades between 1866 and 1896. The
Great Deflation worked in reverse of inflation. Inflation puts the rich
at a disadvantage and spreads wealth more widely, allowing the middle
class to grow and to enjoy higher standards of living. Deflation
reconcentrates wealth and reduces the living standard of the middle and
working classes. Borrowers face ballooning nominal debts from falling
prices and wages.
Fernand Braudel (1902-1985) in his epic chronicle of the rise of
capitalism showed that cycles of price inflation and deflation were
recurring rhythms in the world's economies long before the founding of
the United States. The very discovery of America was a great
inflationary development by the increase of money supply in Europe
through the plundering of Inca gold mines. Gold inflation lasted three
centuries and was instrumental to the rise of Europe.
The US Federal Reserve System was founded in 1913 presumably to
represent the financial interest of all Americans. In its obsessive
phobia of inflation, the Fed has betrayed its original mandate. The
chairman of the Fed in a true democracy should be a member of the
common folks, supported by a technically competent but ideologically
neutral staff, not a Wall Street economist who applauds "creative
destruction" as a preferred path for growth. Greenspan himself allowed
the view of an European leader in his November address: "What is the
market? It is the law of the jungle, the law of nature. And what is
civilization? It is the struggle against nature."
The creation of the Federal Reserve System was the result of a
confluence of political pressures. Fundamental among these pressure was
the new awareness, as Braudel hinted, of a heretical proposition that
capitalism cannot sustain price stability through market forces. That
proposition may not be valid, but centuries of experimentation and
innovation have yet to devise a monetary system that can provide
permanent market price stability. It was increasingly recognized that
the process of capital accumulation inherently produces periodic cycles
of fluctuating money value: inflationary "easy money" stimulating
economic growth, spreading wealth from the top down, followed by its
depressant opposite "tight money" slowing down growth, reconcentrating
wealth. Just as there is a business cycle in a market economy, there is
a monetary cycle in a capitalistic system.
This peculiar nature of capitalism was allowed to work untamed until
the arrival of political democracy. Any government adopting any money
system that makes stable money a permanent feature would eventually
confront political upheaval. There were no golden means of money value
where all economic participants could be treated equally and justly.
Technically, the rules of capitalism decree that money that is fixed in
perpetual equilibrium is a formula for permanent stagnation.
The tight money in the United States at the beginning of the 20th
century was caused by the restoration of the full gold standard (the
Gold Standard Act of 1900) from the bimetallism that had been used in
the US through much of the 19th century. Bimetallism had the fault of
"bad money driving out good" as stated in Gresham's Law, named after
Sir Thomas Gresham (1619-79), although it was controversial as to
whether he in fact formulated the concept. The law states that the
metal that is commercially valued at less than its face value tends to
be used as money, and the metal that is commercially valued at more
than its face value tends to be used as metal, and thus is withdrawn
from circulation as money. It is an indirect confirmation of the
validity of fiat money, as all commodities with intrinsic value would
not be used as money given the option.
Permanent tight money means permanent high interest rates. And the
money supply based on the gold standard after 1900 was inflexible for
meeting the fluctuating demands of the economy. The resultant
illiquidity rendered the financial system inoperative. The liquidity
squeeze typically started in the South and the West when farmers
brought their crops to market and traders and merchants needed
short-term loans to finance a seasonal ballooning of trade. Rural banks
were forced to turn to New York for additional funds. Country bankers
and their farm clients learned from experience that life-or-death
decisions over the economies of Kansas, Texas and Tennessee resided in
the Wall Street offices of the likes of J P Morgan. Thus the term
"money trusts" was no radical sloganeering or activist hysteria. It was
a very mainstream term that everyone in the West and the South
understood in the 1900s.
The Populists first proposed a solution to the money question in August
1886 at Cleburne, Texas, where the Farmers Alliance held a convention.
The "Cleburne Demand" borrowed from the Greenback Party, which in the
previous decade had fought against the gold standard and defended
president Abraham Lincoln's fiat money, known as greenbacks, backed not
by gold but by government credit, on which the North won the Civil War.
Among the "radical" demands were federal regulation of the private
banking system and a national fiat currency not retrained by gold.
The Populists distrusted both Wall Street and Washington and wanted an
independent institution to carry out this task. They were openly
inflationist, and advocated an expanding money supply to serve the
growing economy and a federal issue to replace all private banknotes.
Their slogan, "legal tender for all debts, public and private", appears
today on Federal Reserve notes. Orthodox economists of the day scoffed
at the proposals. A return to a populist monetary policy today would be
a very constructive alternative to Greenspan's distortion of
Schumpeterean creative destructionism.
The Fed has always considered it its sacred duty only to fight
inflation. Still, there was a time it forced on the economy the pains
of fighting inflation only after inflation had appeared, as then
chairman Paul Volcker did in the early 1980s. But the Greenspan Fed in
the late 1990s was shadow-boxing phantom inflation based on a
theoretical anticipation of inflation from the wealth effect of an
equity-market bubble that was at least producing a benefit of having
unemployment trending below the so-called natural rate. The Greenspan
bubble was actually accompanied by pockets of deflation, most visibly
in the manufacturing and commodity sectors, mostly caused by excess
investment that led to global overcapacity that fed low-priced imports
to the US economy. Deflation has practically destroyed the farming and
several other commodity and basic-material sectors in the past decade,
including steel. It has eliminated much of US manufacturing. The
deflation that faced selected sectors of the US economy in the past
decade had not been market-induced as much as it was policy-determined.
The Fed's fixation on driving inflation lower, regardless of economic
consequences, has caused untold damage to the economy and forced its
restructuring toward an unsustainable debt bubble.
It is an economic truism that low inflation for a large, complex
economy can only be achieved by driving certain sectors into
deflationary levels. Businesses in these unfortunate sectors are held
in a state of protracted if not perpetual loss to face bankruptcy and
liquidation. This detachment of profit from real production and the
dubious linkage of profit to financial speculation and manipulation
Greenspan accepts happily as Schumpeterean "creative destruction" (from
economist Joseph A Schumpeter, 1883-1950). Pockets of deflation and
bankruptcy are integral parts of systemwide disinflation that
inevitably produces losers who allegedly made wrong business bets. It
turned out that these wrong bets were not against market forces as much
as they were against Fed policy bias. The stable value of money is to
be maintained at all cost, except for speculative growth, which is
translated to mean ever-rising share prices. Rising share prices,
unlike rising wages, are not viewed by the Fed as inflation, a
rationale hard to understand.
But the negatives of selective deflation are considered by the Fed as
secondary and acceptable systemwide. These losses at various
deflationary phases have included the farmer belt, the oil patch, the
timber industry, the mining sector, steel, the manufacturing sector,
transportation, communication, high technology and even defense. In
1984-85, deflation had became a fundamental disorder in the economy.
Income loss and shrinking collateral squeezed debtors in deflationary
sectors facing fixed nominal levels of debt that required appreciated
dollars to repay. Raw-material prices fell by 40 percent from their
peaks in 1980. It was a repeat of the 1920s' selective economic damage.
Overall prices throughout the 1980s as reflected by the Consumer Price
Index (CPI) remained around 3 percent and the economy expanded
moderately and continuously. What actually happened was a structural
shift of wealth distribution toward polarization of rich and poor. A
split-level economy was instituted by government policy, between the
favored and the dispensable. In the 1880s and again the 1890s, similar
developments produced political agrarian revolts that historians call
American Populism.
In 1830, there were only 32 miles (51 kilometers) of railroads in the
United States. By 1860, at the start of the Civil War, there were more
than 30,000 miles. The three decades after the Civil War was called the
Railroad Age by historians, a period that saw a fivefold increase in
rail mileage. The rail sector dominated the investment market and was
the chief source of new wealth and baronial fortunes. The Age of Robber
Barons, represented by the likes of Cornelius Vanderbilt (railroads),
Andrew Carnegie (steel), John D Rockefeller (oil) and Morgan (finance),
with the birth of big monopolistic corporations and interlocking
holding companies, was inseparable from railroad expansion.
The private railroads received free public land in amounts larger than
the size of Texas. The scandalous Credit Mobilier, which built the
Union Pacific, paid a dividend of 348 percent in one year to
watered-down shares given to corrupt members of Congress and state
officials, a hundred times that of convention, even after having billed
the company double for runaway construction cost. The price-fixing and
selective price-gouging, government corruption, stock and business
fraud, cost-padding, stock-watering and manipulation such as insider
trading and sweetheart loans of the Railroad Age made the so-called
crony capitalism of which the United States now accuses a developing
Asia looks like child's play.
Notwithstanding the disingenuous neo-liberal claim that the Asian
financial crises of 1997 that devastated the economies in the region
were the inevitable result of Asian crony capitalism, and not of
unregulated market fundamentalism, the scandalous railroad boom of the
1860s in the United States did not hurt the US economy. Far from it, it
heralded in the age of finance capitalism. The difference was that in
the 1860s, the US opposed free trade and adopted high protective
tariffs, government support of industrial policy and infrastructure
development and national banking. But most important of all, the US of
the 1860s was not victimized by the tyranny of a foreign-currency
hegemony, as Asia is today by dollar hegemony. Just as pimples are the
symptoms of hormone imbalance and not the cause, corruption is often
the symptom of fast growth.
The point here is not to apologize for corruption but to point out that
corruption is part and partial of finance capitalism, as the savings
and loan (S&L) crisis, the Milken junk-bond scandal and Enrontitis
of recent times continue to show clearly. The real culprit was not
corruption but deregulation. The Telecommunications Act of 1996, for
example, which aimed to create competitive markets for voice, data and
broadband services, unleashed a flood of investment in wireless
licenses, fiber-optic cable networks, satellites, computer switches and
Internet sites, and accounted for much of the new capital that poured
into the economy through Wall Street's equity and credit markets. The
same was true in the energy sector. But the biggest culprit was
financial deregulation.
The deregulation program under the administration of president Ronald
Reagan phased out federal requirements that set maximum interest rates
on savings accounts. This eliminated the advantage previously held by
savings banks in financing home ownership. Checking accounts that paid
interest could now be offered by savings banks. All depository
institutions could now borrow from the Fed in time of need, a privilege
that had been reserved for commercial banks. In return, all banks had
to place a certain percentage of their deposits at the Fed. This gave
the Fed more control over state chartered banks, but diluted the Fed's
control of the credit market. The Garn-St Germain Act of 1982 allowed
savings banks to issue credit cards, make non-residential real-estate
loans and commercial loans - actions previously only allowed to
commercial banks.
Deregulation practically eliminated the distinction between commercial
and savings banks. It caused a rapid growth of savings banks and
S&Ls that now made all types of non-homeowner-related loans.
S&Ls could then tap into the huge profit centers of
commercial-real-estate investments and credit-card issuing and unsavory
entrepreneurs looked to the loosely regulated S&Ls as a
no-holds-barred profit center.
As the 1980s wore on, the US economy appeared to grow. Interest rates
continued to go up as well as real-estate speculation. The real-estate
market was in a bubble boom. Many S&Ls took advantage of the lack
of supervision and regulations to make highly speculative investments,
in many cases lending more money then the value of the projects, in
anticipation of still-rising prices. When the real-estate market
crashed dramatically, the S&Ls were crushed. They now owned
properties that they had paid enormous amounts of money for but weren't
worth a fraction of what they paid. Many went bankrupt, losing their
depositors' money. In 1980, the US had 4,600 thrifts; by 1988, mergers
and bankruptcies left 3,000. By the mid-1990s, fewer than 2,000
survived. The S&L crisis cost US taxpayers $600 billion in
"bailouts". The indirect cost was estimated to be $1.4 trillion.
Money supply is a complex issue and at this moment in history it is a
term of considerable chaotic meaning. The official definition by the
Federal Reserve of M1, 2 and 3 is clear (see note 1), but its
usefulness even to the Fed is as limited as it is clear. Greenspan, at
the 15th Anniversary Conference of the Center for Economic Policy
Research at Stanford University on September 5, 1997, with Milton
Friedman in the audience, in defense of the accusation that Fed policy
failed to anticipate the emerging inflation of the 1970s and, by
fostering excessive monetary creation, contributed to the inflationary
upsurge, and the claim that some monetary-policy rules, such as the
Taylor rule, however imperfect, would have delivered far superior
performance, admitted that the Fed's (indeed economics') knowledge of
the full workings of the system is quite limited, so that attempts to
improve on the results of policy rules will, on average, only make
matters worse. Greenspan observed that the monetary policy of the Fed
has involved varying degrees of rule-based and discretionary-based
modes of operation over time. Very often historical regularities have
been disrupted by unanticipated change, especially in technologies,
both hard and soft. The evolving patterns mean that the performance of
the economy under any rule, were it to be rigorously followed, would
deviate from expectations. Such changes mean that we can never
construct a completely general model of the economy, invariant through
time, on which to base our policy, Greenspan asserted. It was an
apology for muddling through.
Greenspan admitted that in the late 1970s, the Fed's actions to deal
with developing inflationary instabilities were shaped in part by the
reality portrayed by Friedman's analysis that ever-rising inflation
rate peaks, as well as ever-rising inflation rate troughs, followed on
the heels of similar patterns of average money growth. The Fed, in
response to such evaluations, acted aggressively under the then newly
installed chairman Paul Volcker. A considerable tightening of the
average stance of policy, based on intermediate M1 targets tied to
reserve operating objectives, eventually reversed the surge in
inflation. Greenspan was careful not to draw attention to the high cost
of the reversal.
The 15 years before the Asian financial crises that began in 1997 had
been a period of consolidating the gains of the early 1980s and
extending them to their logical end, ie, the achievement of price
stability. Although the ultimate goals of monetary policy have remained
the same over the past 15 years, the techniques used by the Fed in
formulating and implementing policy have changed considerably as a
consequence of vast changes in technology and regulation. The early
Volcker years focused on M1, and following operating procedures that
imparted a considerable degree of automaticity to short-term
interest-rate movements, resulting in wide interest-rate volatility.
But after nationwide NOW (negotiable order of withdrawal)
interest-bearing checking accounts were introduced, the demand for M1,
in the judgment of the Federal Open Markets Committee (FOMC), became
too interest-sensitive for that aggregate to be useful in implementing
policy. Because the velocity of such an aggregate varies substantially
in response to small changes in interest rates, target ranges for M1
growth, in the FOMC's judgment, no longer were reliable guides for
outcomes in nominal spending and inflation. In response to an
unanticipated movement in spending and hence the quantity of money
demanded, a small variation in interest rates would be sufficient to
bring money back to path but not to correct the deviation in spending.
As a consequence, by late 1982, M1 was de-emphasized and policy
decisions per force became more discretionary. However, in recognition
of the longer-run relationship of prices and M2, especially its stable
long-term velocity, this broader aggregate was accorded more weight,
along with a variety of other indicators, in setting the Fed policy
stance.
By the early 1990s, the usefulness of M2 was undercut by the increased
attractiveness and availability of alternative outlets for saving, such
as bond and stock mutual funds, and by mounting financial difficulties
for depositories and depositors that led to a restructuring of business
and household balance sheets. The apparent result was a significant
rise in the velocity of M2, which was especially unusual given
continuing declines in short-term market interest rates. By 1993, this
extraordinary velocity behavior had become so pronounced that the Fed
was forced to begin disregarding the signals M2 was sending.
Greenspan recognized that, in fixing on the short-term rate, the Fed
lost much of the information on the balance of money supply and demand
that changing market rates afforded, but for the moment the Fed saw no
alternative. In the current state of knowledge, money demand has become
too difficult to predict. In the United States, evaluating the effects
on the economy of shifts in balance sheets and variations in asset
prices have been an integral part of the development of monetary
policy.
In recent years, for example, the Fed expended considerable effort to
understand the implications of changes in household balance sheets in
the form of high and rising consumer debt burdens and increases in
market wealth from the run-up in the stock market. And the equity
market itself has been the subject of analysis as the Fed attempted to
assess the implications for financial and economic stability of the
extraordinary rise in equity prices, a rise based apparently on
continuing upward revisions in estimates of US corporations' already
robust long-term earning prospects. But, unless they are moving
together, prices of assets and of goods and services could not both be
an objective of a particular monetary policy, which, after all, has one
effective instrument: the short-term interest rate. The Fed chose
product prices as its primary focus on the grounds that stability in
the average level of these prices was likely to be consistent with
financial stability as well as maximum sustainable growth. History,
however, is somewhat ambiguous on the issue of whether central banks
can safely ignore asset markets, except as they affect product prices.
Greenspan discovered that he had been very wrong about the "robust"
long-term earning prospects of US corporations by 2000.
Greenspan also admitted that over the coming decades, moreover, what
constitutes product price and, hence, price stability will itself
become harder to measure. In the years 1997 through 2000, M3 increased
by about 460, 600, 500 and 600 billions per year, respectively. In 2001
M3 expanded much more rapidly - by about $1.1 trillion - to a total of
about $8 trillion. The surge in the money supply since the attacks on
September 11, 2001, was equal to about $300 billion, which
significantly represents about 3.0 percent of GDP, this after the Fed
injected $1 trillion into the banking system in the days following the
terrorist attacks in New York and on the Pentagon. Since the beginning
of 2000, $8 trillion of stock market wealth has vanished, that is 80
percent of annual GDP, or the entire M3 in 2001. Another way to look at
these figures is that the entire face value of the US money supply has
vanished through market correction.
Market participants look at money supply differently. To M1, 2 and 3,
they add L, which is M3 plus all other liquid assets, such as Treasury
bills, saving bonds, commercial paper, bankers' acceptances, non-bank
eurodollar holdings of non-US residents and, since the 1990s,
derivatives and swaps, generally coming under the heading of structured
finance instruments. The term MZM (money with zero maturity) came into
general use. The Fed has poor, if any, information on L and it does not
seem to want to know as it persistently declines to support its
regulation or reporting on it. Over-the-counter (OTC) derivatives now
are estimated to involve notional values of more than $150 trillion. No
one knows the precise amount.
The Office of Controller of Currency (OCC) quarterly report on bank
derivatives activities and trading revenues is based on call-report
information provided by US commercial banks. The notional amount of
derivatives in insured commercial bank portfolios increased by $3.1
trillion in the third quarter of 2002, to $53.2 trillion. Generally,
changes in notional volumes are reasonable reflections of business
activity but do not provide useful measures of risk. During the third
quarter, the notional amount of interest-rate contracts increased by $3
trillion, to $45.7 trillion. Foreign-exchange contracts increased by
$27 billion to $5.8 trillion. The number of commercial banks holding
derivatives increased by 17, to 408. Eighty-six percent of the notional
amount of derivative positions was composed of interest-rate contracts,
with foreign exchange accounting for an additional 11 percent. Equity,
commodity and credit derivatives accounted for only 3 percent of the
total notional amount.
Holdings of derivatives continue to be concentrated in the largest
banks. Seven commercial banks account for almost 96 percent of the
total notional amount of derivatives in the commercial banking system,
with more than 99 percent held by the top 25 banks. OTC and
exchange-traded contracts comprised 87.9 percent and 12.1 percent,
respectively, of the notional holdings as of the third quarter of 2002.
The notional amount is a reference amount from which contractual
payments will be derived, but it is generally not an amount at risk.
The risk in a derivative contract is a function of a number of
variables, such as whether counterparties exchange notional principal,
the volatility of the currencies or interest rates used as the basis
for determining contract payments, the maturity and liquidity of
contracts, and the creditworthiness of the counterparties in the
transaction. Further, the degree of increase or decrease in risk-taking
must be considered in the context of a bank's aggregate trading
positions as well as its asset and liability structure. Data describing
fair values and credit risk exposures are more useful for analyzing
point-in-time risk exposure, while data on trading revenues and
contractual maturities provide more meaningful information on trends in
risk exposure.
Monetary economists have no idea if notional values are part of the
money supply and with what discount ratio. As we now know, creative
accounting has legally transformed debt proceeds as revenue. With the
telecoms, the Indefeasible Right of Use (IRU) contracts, or capacity
swaps, were perfectly legal means to inflate revenue. The now disgraced
and defunct Andersen White Paper in 2000, well known in telecom
financial circles, defined IRU swaps between telecom carriers by
accounting each sale as revenue and each purchase of a capital expense
which is exempted from operating results emphasized by Wall Street
analysts and investors. While common sense would see this as inflation
of revenue by hiding underlying true cost, Andersen argued that these
capacity exchanges are not barter agreements, but are sales of
operating leases and purchases of capital leases. Thus by creative
accounting logic, swaps are not acquisition of "equivalent interests"
because risks and rewards of buying a capital lease are greater than
those of an operating lease. Since operating leases are not similar
assets as capital leases, there is logic in booking revenues over the
life of a contract when they are fully paid at closing. It can also be
argued that such accounting logic on the operating leases misleadingly
strengthens the value of the capital assets. Which was exactly what
happened.
GE Capital on March 13, 2002, launched a multi-tranche dollar bond deal
that was almost doubled in size from $6 billion to $11 billion, making
it the largest-ever dollar-denominated corporate bond issue. Officially
the bond sale was explained as following the current trend of companies
with large borrowing needs, such as GE Capital, locking in favorable
funding costs while interest rates are low. On March 18, Bloomberg
reported that GE Capital was bowing to demands from Moody's Investors
Service that the biggest seller of commercial paper should reduce its
reliance on short-term debt securities. The financing arm of General
Electric, then the world's largest company, sought bigger lending
commitments from banks and replacing some of its $100 billion in debt
that would mature in less than nine months with bonds. GE Capital asked
its banks to raise its borrowing capacity to $50 billion from $33
billion.
Moody's, one of two credit-rating companies that have assigned GE
Capital the highest "AAA" grade, has been increasing pressure on even
top-rated firms to reduce short-term liabilities since Enron filed the
biggest US bankruptcy to that date in December. Moody's released
reports analyzing the ability of 300 companies to raise money should
they be shut out of the commercial paper market. GE Capital and H J
Heinz Co said they responded to inquiries by Moody's by reducing their
short-term debt, unsecured obligations used for day-to-day financing.
Concerns about the availability of such funds have grown this year
after Qwest Communications International Inc, Sprint Corp and Tyco
International Ltd were suddenly unable to sell commercial paper.
Moody's lowered a record 93 commercial paper ratings last year as the
economy slowed, causing corporate defaults to increase to their highest
in a decade. One area of concern for the analysts is the amount of bank
credit available to repay commercial paper. While many companies have
credit lines equivalent to the amount of commercial paper they sell,
some of the biggest issuers do not. GE Capital, for example, has loan
commitments backing 33 percent of its short-term debt. American Express
has commitments that cover 56 percent of its commercial paper.
Coca-Cola supports about 85 percent of its debt with bank agreements,
according to Standard & Poor's, the largest credit-rating company,
which said it is also focusing more attention on risks posed by
short-term liabilities, though it hasn't yet decided whether to issue
separate reports.
Companies have sold $107 billion of investment-grade bonds in the first
half of this year, up from $88 billion during the same period in 2001.
The amount of unsecured commercial paper outstanding has fallen by a
third to $672 billion during the past 12 months. GE Capital, which has
reduced its commercial paper outstanding from $117 billion at the
beginning of the year, plans to continue to reduce short-term debt. It
took one step in that direction last week when it sold $11 billion of
long-term bonds, some of which will be used to reduce its outstanding
commercial paper. As part of the sale, GE Capital sold 30-year bonds
with a coupon of 6.75 percent. The company usually swaps some or all of
those fixed-rate payments for floating-rate obligations. Last year, GE
Capital paid on average 3.23 percent for its floating-rate, long-term
debt, 70 basis points more than on its commercial paper, according to a
company filing.
The bottom line of all this is that the funding cost of GE Capital will
go up, which will hit GE Capital profit, which constitutes 60 percent
of its parent's profit. This in turn will hit GE share prices, which in
turn will force rating agencies to pressure GE further to shift from
low-cost commercial papers to bonds or bank loans, which will further
reduce profit, which will further increase rating pressure, and so on.
PIMCO (Pacific Investment Management Co), the world's largest bond
fund, having dumped $1 billion in GE commercial paper from its
holdings, publicly criticized GE for carrying too much debt and not
dealing honestly with investors. GE announced it might sell as much as
$50 billion in bonds only days after investors bought $11 billion of
new bonds in the biggest US sale in history. PIMCO director Bill Gross
disputed GE's contention that the new bond sales were designed not to
capture low rates, but because of troubles in its commercial paper
market. If the GE short-term rate rises because of a poor credit
rating, the engine that drives GE earnings will stall. Gross dismissed
GE earning growth as not being from brilliant management, former GE
chairman Jack Welch's self-aggrandizing books not withstanding, but
from financial manipulation, selling debt at cheap rates and using
inflated GE stocks for acquisition. GE had $127 billion in commercial
paper as of March 11, 2002, according to Moody's. This amounts to 49
percent of its total debt. Banks' credit line only covers one-third of
the short-term exposure.
The erosion of market capitalization value does impact money supply.
Asset valuation is the collateral for debt. As asset value falls,
credit ratings fall, which affect interest costs, which affect profits,
which affect asset value. Moreover, a major counterparty default in
structured finance will render the Fed helpless in keeping the money
supply from sudden contraction, unless the Fed is prepared to depart
from its traditional practice of relying solely on interest-rate policy
to effectuate monetary ease, a move Greenspan apparently has served
notice he is prepared to make.
The logic of fighting inflation by raising interest rates is mere
conventional wisdom. Furthermore, interest-rate policy is merely a
single instrument that cannot possibly be relied upon to play the
complexity of a symphony like the economy. The debate on whether a high
interest rate is inflationary or deflationary seems to be a puzzling
controversy in economics. Within the current international financial
architecture, interest rates cannot be fully understood without taking
into account their impact on exchange rates and credit markets. Nor can
inflation be understood in isolation.
In a globalized financial market, if the exchange rate is artificially
sustained by high interest rates, there is little doubt that the impact
would be deflationary on the local economy. This logic is also
supported by empirical data in recent years. Yet many astute economists
insist that a high interest rate causes inflation, at least in the long
run. Perhaps this can be true in closed economies, but it is no longer
necessarily true in open economies in a globalized financial market.
Interest rates are the prices for the use of money over time. These
prices do not always track the purchasing power of money, which is the
monetized expression of the market value of commodities (the
transaction price) at a specific time. The purchasing power of money
fluctuates over time, expressed by the prices of futures and options,
which are functions of the uncertain elasticity between interest rates
and inflation rates.
As the price for the use of money over time rises, the general effect
will be deflationary if money is viewed as a constant store of value.
Otherwise, money will forfeit its function as a constant store of
value. On the other hand, if money is viewed as a medium of exchange,
the ultimate liquidity agent, then rising price for its use over time
is inflationary as a cost.
Now, in any economy, money tends to play both roles, though not equally
and not consistently over time. For market participants, depending on
their positions (borrower or lender) at specific points of the economic
cycle (expanding or contracting liquidity), they will find different
views of money (exchange medium or value storer) to be to their
financial advantage. Thus borrowers generally consider a high interest
rate as leading to cost inflation (bad), and lenders consider a high
interest rate as leading to asset deflation (good up to a point). Asset
deflation offers good buying opportunities for those who have money or
have access to credit, but bad for those who hold assets but need
money, and the pain is proportional to asset illiquidity. Since most
holders of ready cash also hold assets, deflation has only a limited
and short-term advantage for them. For inflation to be advantageous,
continued expansion of credit is required to keep asset appreciation
ahead of cost inflation.
The problem is further complicated by the fact that inflation is
defined mostly by mainstream economics only as the rising price of
wages and commodities, and not by asset appreciation. When it costs 10
percent more to buy the same share of a company than it did yesterday,
that is considered growth - good economic news. When wages rise 5
percent a year, that is viewed as inflation - bad economic news by the
Fed, despite the fact that the aggregate purchasing power is increased
by 5 percent. Therein lies the fundamental cause of a bubble economy -
growth and profit are generated by asset inflation rather than by
increased aggregate demand stimulating aggregate supply.
Thus the relationship of interest rate to inflation is dependent on the
definition of money, which raises questions about the Fed preoccupation
with interest-rate policy as a tool to achieve price stability. But
that is not the end of the story. Under finance capitalism, inflation
is not merely too much money chasing too few goods, as under industrial
capitalism. Under financial capitalism, two elements - credit
availability and credit markets - have overshadowed the traditional
goods and equity markets of industrial capitalism. This makes it
necessary to re-examine the traditional relationship of interest rate
and inflation.
In a bull market, the buyer has the advantage because the buyer has the
final upside. In a bear market, the seller has the advantage because
the buyer is left holding the downside bag. Of course one must avoid
buying at the peak and selling at the bottom. And such strategies have
self-fulfilling effects, as technical analysts can readily testify.
These effects are magnified in long-run bull or bear markets, which are
represented by a rising or falling sine curve. However, the buyer's
advantage in a bull market may be neutralized by the inflation that
usually accompanies bull markets. Thus a true bull market must yield
net capital gain after inflation and real interest cost, ie, interest
cost after inflation. And in a deflationary bear market, the seller's
advantage is reinforced by deflation, for he can repurchase at a later
date with only a fraction of his realized cash from what he sold
previously. Not only would the seller avoid additional loss of holding
the unsold asset in a falling market, the cash from the sale
appreciates in purchasing power with every passing day in a bear
market.
Thus money plays a passive role as a medium of exchange and an active
role as a store of value on the movement of prices. The conventional
view that inflation is caused by, or is a result of (the two are
connected but not identical), too much money chasing too few goods then
is not always operative. This is because the availability of credit and
the operational rules of credit markets can distort the traditional
relationship. Credit markets, which have expanded way beyond
traditional credit intermediated by the banking system, operate on the
theory that money generally must earn interest, whether it is actually
put to use or not.
There are of course abnormal times when money actually earns negative
interest because of government policy or foreign exchange constraints,
as in Hong Kong in the early 1990s and Japan since 2000. When idle
money earns no interest, credit reserve dries up, because it creates
greater incentive to put money to work, ie, investing it in productive
enterprises. For money to remain idly waiting for better opportunity,
the interest rate must equal or exceed the opportunity cost of idle
cash. Interest then acts as a penalty for idle money. When idle money
earns interest, the interest payment comes ultimately from the central
bank, which alone can create more money with no penalty to itself,
though the economy it lords over is not immune. Since late 1999, the
Japanese monetary authorities have repeatedly reaffirmed their
commitment to maintaining their zero-interest-rate policy until
deflationary forces have been dispelled. The result is a great deal of
idle money in Japanese banks with no creditworthy borrowers, for no one
is interested in borrowing money to buy one widget that needs to be
paid back with appreciated money that could buy two widgets in the
future. Japanese savers are forgoing interest income for the increasing
purchasing power of their idle money in an unending deflationary
spiral.
Efficiency in the credit markets pushes money toward the highest use
and willingness to pay the highest interest. Thus when the central bank
tightens money supply, the market will drive up interest rates and vice
versa. Thus interest rate is a credit market index. When central banks
such as the Fed use interest-rate policy to manage the money supply,
they are in fact using a narrow market index to manipulate the broader
market. It is not different from the Fed fixing the Dow Jones
Industrial Average (DJIA) by buying or selling blue-chip shares to
influence the broad S&P.
When prices fall, one reason may be that consumers do not have money to
buy with, as in most recessions with high unemployment. Or it may be
the result of potential consumers withholding their money for still
lower prices, as in Japan now and in some degree in China in 1998-2000.
So deflation is caused by too many goods trying to attract too little
money entering the market, but not necessarily too little money in the
economy.
But if every seller can realize a cash surplus in a subsequent
repurchase in a bear market, where does all the surplus money go?
Obviously it goes to pay interest on the idle money waiting for a
cheaper price, reducing the central bank's need to issue more money to
carry the interest cost on idle money. The net effect is a removal of
money from the market and an increase in the amount of idle money in
the economy. So deflation actually pushes up interest rates without
necessarily altering the aggregate money supply. The effect is that
until prices fall at a lesser rate than the interest rate on idle
money, there is no incentive to buy. Thus a deflation-driven rising
interest rate creates more deflationary pressure in a bear market. High
interest rates move more wealth from borrowers to lenders and from
bottom to top in the wealth pyramid. Moreover, the impact of a high
interest rate modifies economic behavior differently in different
groups and even on different activities within the same individual.
When the prime rate at leading banks exceeded 20 percent in 1980,
credit continued to expand explosively. The opposite happened when the
Bank of Japan reduced the interest rate to zero. High rates only work
to slow credit expansion if the rates are ahead of inflation. And zero
rate only works to stimulate credit expansion if there is no deflation.
So raising interest rates to combat inflation or lowering rates to
combat deflation can be self-defeating under certain conditions.
Now if two economies are linked by floating exchange rates, free trade
and free investment flows, the one with a high rate of inflation will
see the exchange rate of its currency fall. But a fall in its currency
will increase the cost of its imports, thus adding to its inflation
rate, and the further rise in the inflation rate will push up interest
rates further. But a rise in domestic interest rates will stop or slow
the fall of its currency and attract more fund inflows to buy its goods
and assets. It also increases its exports, which reduces the supply of
goods and assets in the domestic market, thus pushing up domestic
prices, while pushing down the price of imports. The net
inflation/deflation balance will then depend on the trade balance
between exports and imports. This had been given by the European
Central Bank (ECB) as the logic of raising euro interest rates to fight
inflation. But this effect does not work for the United States because
of dollar hegemony, which enables the US to run a recurring trade
deficit with moderating inflation impacts. That is why the policies of
the ECB and the Fed are constantly out of sync.
The availability of financial derivatives further complicates the
picture, because both interest rates and foreign-exchange rates can be
hedged, obscuring and distorting the fundamental relations among
interest rates, exchange rates and inflation. The recurring global
financial crises in the past decade were manifestations of this
distortion.
The theory of market equilibrium asserts that a market tends to reach
"natural" equilibrium as it approaches efficiency, which is defined as
the speed and ease with which equilibrium is reached. Equilibrium is an
abstract concept like infinity. It is a self-extending conceptual end
state that has no definitive form or reality. Yet the market is complex
not only because the relationship of market elements is poorly defined
or even undefinable, but also the very instruments designed to enhance
market efficiency tend to create wide volatility and instability. Thus
a "natural" equilibrium state can in fact be defined as the actual
state of the fluctuating market at any moment in time.
With 24-hour trading, the notion of a milestone moment of equilibrium
is problematic. Further, the very financial instruments created to
enhance market efficiency toward its "natural" equilibrium state make
the equilibrium elusive. Such instruments are mainly designed to manage
risk generated by both broad market movements and momentary
disequilibrium. Structured finance mainly involves unbundling financial
risks in global markets for buyers who will pay the highest price for
specific protection. Because users of these instruments look for
special payoffs through unbundling of risk, the cost of managing such
risk is maximized. The disaggregating renders the notion of market
equilibrium not unifiable. The unbundled risks are marketed to those
with the biggest appetite for such risks, in return for compensatory
returns.
Thus market equilibrium is not any more merely a large pool of
turbulent transactions with a level surface. It is in fact a pool of
transactions with many different levels of interconnected surfaces,
each serving highly disaggregated specialty markets. Equilibrium in
this case becomes a highly complex notion making the impact and
prospect of externalities highly uncertain. That uncertainty caused the
demise of Long Term Capital Management (LTCM), for a while the world's
most successful hedge fund based on immaculate quantitative logic.
Interest swaps, for example, are not single-purpose transactions for
managing interest-rate risks. They can be structured as inflation risk
hedges, or foreign-exchange risk hedges, or any number of other
financial needs or protection. And the impact is not limited to the two
contracting counterparties, since each party usually hedges again with
a third counterparty who in turn hedges with another counterparty. That
is what makes hedging systemic. A further irony is that the very
objective of insuring against volatility risk by covering the market
broadly increases risks of illiquidity.
Monetary-policy decision makers in the past decade have tended to be
fixated on preventing inflation. Some questions come to mind over this
fact. Is inflation the worst of all economic evils; and specifically,
is current US monetary policy consistent with maintaining a low rate of
inflation, assuming a low inflation rate is desirable? Or, to put it
another way, is there any empirical evidence that inflation can be
controlled by the central bank at a cost less than that exacted by
inflation itself? Would the establishment of price stability as the
Fed's sole objective hinder long-run growth prospects for the US and
the global economy? The answers to these questions are critical for the
assessment of monetary policy.
Two Nobel laureates from the Chicago School, Milton Friedman and Robert
Lucas, have influenced mainstream economics on these issues. Friedman,
the 1976 Nobel economist, emphasized the role of monetary policy as a
factor in shaping the course of inflation and business cycles. In the
popular press, he also was known for his advocacy of deregulated
markets and free trade as the best option for economic development.
Lucas, the 1995 Nobel economist, also made fundamental contributions to
the study of money, inflation, and business cycles, through the
application of modern mathematics. Lucas formed what came to be called
a theory of "rational expectations". In essence, the "rational
expectations" theory shows how expectations about the future influence
the economic decisions made by individuals, households and companies.
Using complex mathematical models, Lucas showed statistically that the
average individual would anticipate - and thus could easily undermine -
the impact of a government's economic policy. Rational expectation
theory was embraced by the Reagan White House during its first term,
but the doctrine worked against the Reagan voodoo economic plan instead
of with it.
In 1976, the long-run relationship between inflation and unemployment
was still under debate in mainstream economics. During the 1960s,
mainstream economics leaned toward the belief that a lower average
unemployment rate could be sustained at the cost of a permanently
higher (but stable) rate of inflation.
Friedman used his Nobel lecture to make two arguments about this
inflation-unemployment tradeoff. First, he advanced the logic of why
short-run tradeoff would dissolve in the long run. Expanding nominal
demand to lower unemployment would lead to increases in money wages as
firms attempted to attract additional workers. Firms would be willing
to pay higher money wages if they expected prices for output to be
higher in the future due to expansion and inflation. Workers would
initially perceive the rise in money wages to be a rise in real wages
because their "perception of prices in general" adjusts only with a
time lag, so nominal wages would be perceived to be rising faster than
prices. In response, the supply of labor would increase, and employment
and output would expand. Eventually, workers would recognize that the
general level of prices had risen and that their real wages had not
actually increased, leading to adjustments that would return the
economy to its natural rate of unemployment.
Yet Friedman only described a partial picture of the
employment/inflation interaction. Events since 1976 have shown the
relationship to be much more complex. Friedman neglected the
possibility of increased productivity and quantum technological
innovation resulting from more research and development (R&D) in an
expanding economy in containing price increases. Higher wages do not
necessarily cause inflation in an economy with expanding production or
overcapacity. He also did not foresee the effects of globalization, ie,
the shift of production to low-wage regions, on holding down domestic
inflation in the core economies.
Friedman's second argument was that the Phillips Curve slope might
actually be positive - higher inflation would be associated with higher
average unemployment. He argued that only low inflation would lead to a
natural rate of unemployment. This for policy makers was the equivalent
of "when unemployment is unavoidable, relax and enjoy it".
At the core of modern macroeconomics is some version of the famous
Phillips Curve relationship between inflation and unemployment. The
curve serves two purposes for economists and policy makers: 1) In
theoretical models of inflation, it provides the "missing equation" to
explain how changes in nominal income divide into price and quantity
components; and 2) on the policy front, it specifies conditions
contributing to the effectiveness of expansionary/disinflationary
policies.
The idea of an inflation/unemployment tradeoff is not new. It was a key
component of the monetary doctrines of David Hume (1752) and Henry
Thornton (1802), and identified in 1926 by Irving Fisher, who saw
causation as running from inflation to unemployment (but not low
unemployment causing inflation, as most modern central bankers do). It
was stated in the form of an econometric equation by Jan Tinbergen in
1936 and again by Lawrence Klein and Arthur Goldberger in 1955. It was
not until 1958 that modern Phillips Curve analysis began when A W
Phillips published his famous article in which he fitted a statistical
equation w = f(U) to annual data on percentage rates of change of money
wages (w) and the unemployment rate (U) in the United Kingdom during
1861-1913, showing the response of wages to the excess demand for labor
as proxied by the inverse of the unemployment rate. Zero wage inflation
occurred at 4.5 percent of unemployment historically.
In the pre-globalized 1970s, many economies were experiencing rising
inflation and unemployment simultaneously. Friedman attempted to
provide a tentative hypothesis for this phenomenon. In his view, higher
inflation tends to be associated with more inflation volatility and
greater inflation uncertainty. This uncertainty reduces economic
efficiency as contracting arrangements must adjust, imperfections in
indexation systems become more prominent, and price movements provide
confused signals about the types of relative price changes that
indicate the need for resources to shift.
Three reasons contributed to the wide acceptance of Phillips' curve,
despite critics' attack that it was a mere empirical correlation
masquerading as a tradeoff. First, the curve shows remarkably temporal
stability of the relationship, fitting both the pre-World War I period
of 1861-1913 and the post-World War II period of 1948-57. Second, the
curve can accommodate a wide variety of inflation theories. While the
curve explains inflation as resulting from excess demand that bids up
wages and prices, it remains neutral about the cause of that
phenomenon. Both demand-pull and cost-push theorists can accept the
curve as offering insights into the nature of the inflationary process
while disagreeing on the causes of and therefore the appropriate
remedies for inflation. Finally, policy makers like it because it
provides a convenient and convincing rationale for the failure to
achieve full employment with price stability, twin goals that were
thought to be compatible before the advent of Phillips Curve analysis.
Also, the curve, by offering a menu of alternative
inflation/unemployment combination from which the authorities could
choose, provided a ready-made justification for discretionary central
bank intervention and activist fine-tuning, not to mention the
self-interest of the economic advisors who supply the cost-benefit
analysis underlying the central bank's choices.
Yet the Phillips Curve is now widely viewed as offering no tradeoff,
thus it supports the notion of policy futility. Unemployment then is
considered a natural phenomenon with no long-term cure. It is an
amazing posture for the economic profession given that even as
conservative a profession as medicine has not accepted the existence of
any incurable diseases. All the "scientific" pronouncements on the
natural rate and inevitability of unemployment fall into the same
category of insight as that by US president Calvin Coolidge: "When
large numbers of people are unable to find work, unemployment will
result."
The parallel correlation between inflation and unemployment that
Friedman noted was subsequently replaced by an opposite correlation as
the early 1980s saw disinflations accompanied by recessions. After
that, many economists would view inflation and unemployment movements
as reflecting both aggregate supply and aggregate demand disturbances
as well as the dynamic adjustments the economy follows in response to
these disturbances. When demand disturbances dominate, inflation and
unemployment will tend to be opposingly correlated initially as, for
example, an expansion lowers unemployment and raises inflation. As the
economy adjusts, prices continue to increase as unemployment begins to
rise again and return to its natural rate. When supply disturbances
dominate (as in the 1970s), inflation and unemployment will tend to
move initially in the same direction.
In the 1990s, a new phenomenon known as the wealth effect came into
play in extending the business cycle. As credit became liberalized and
risk socialized, asset prices began to outstrip both earnings and
wages. Consumption became driven by capital gain rather than rising
income from wages. Inflation, which mainstream economics never defined
as including capital gain, remained unrealistically low as wages fell
behind asset appreciation. Yet the Fed was unable to prevent the bubble
expansion by a monetary tightening because inflation was mysteriously
low while both share and real-estate prices doubled yearly. When the
Fed finally launched in 1999 its preemptive fight against potential
inflation, the result was a drastic deflation of the equity markets and
a hard landing for the bubble economy.
A sizable number of economists have followed Friedman in accepting that
there is no long-run tradeoff that would allow permanently lower
unemployment to be traded for higher inflation. And a part of the
reason for this acceptance is the contributions of Lucas.
In his Nobel lecture, Lucas noted that some evidence exists that
average inflation rates and average money growth rates are tightly
linked: "The observation that money changes induce output changes in
the same direction receives confirmation in some data sets but is hard
to see in others. Large-scale reductions in money growth can be
associated with large-scale depressions or, if carried out in the form
of a credible reform, with no depression at all." Lucas drew this
conclusion largely from work on episodes of hyper-inflations in which
major institutional reforms had been associated with large changes in
inflation; when major reforms are not involved, the evidence shows a
more consistent effect of monetary policy expansions and contractions
on real activity. Recent International Monetary Fund (IMF) insistence
on punitive "conditionalities" for financial bailouts of distressed
sovereign debt is strongly influenced by Lucas's "credible reform"
notion. Pain is extracted as proof of commitment.
While Friedman also stressed that the real effects of changes in
monetary policy would depend on whether they were anticipated or not,
Lucas demonstrated the striking implications of assuming that
individuals form their expectations rationally. Lucas abandoned
Friedman's notion of a gradual adjustment of expectations based on past
developments and instead stressed the forward-looking nature of
expectations. Expectations of future monetary easing or tightening will
affect the economy now. And this means that the real effects of an
increase in money growth could, in principle, be expansionary or
contractionary, depending on the public's expectations. Nowadays this
phenomenon is visible every day in the equity markets. The Fed's
interest-rate moves have become a cat-and-mouse game with market
participants and are one of the prime factors behind market volatility.
One consequence of this insight has been a new recognition of the
importance of credibility in policy; that is, a credible policy - one
that is explicit and for which the central bank is held responsible -
can influence the way people form their expectations. Thus, the effects
of policy actions by a central bank with credibility may be quite
different from those of a central bank that lacks credibility. Even
though the empirical evidence for credibility effects was weak in the
past, the emphasis on credibility has been one factor motivating
central banks to design policy frameworks that embody credible
commitments to low inflation. In this respect, it is a puzzlement why
the Fed insists on keeping its interest-rate policy a suspenseful
surprise for market participants, leading to increased market
volatility and uncertainty. Moreover, if a credible long-term
price-stability policy produces no tradeoff in unemployment, it follows
that the reverse may be true: that a credible policy goal of full
employment may not even lead to long-term inflation.
Some economists have begun to question the natural unemployment rate
result that Lucas's work helped to promote. They argue that even
credible low-inflation policies are likely to carry a cost in terms of
permanently higher unemployment and that a stable Phillips Curve
tradeoff exists at low rates of inflation. They argue that employee
resistance to money wage cuts will limit the ability of real wages to
adjust when the price level is stable. But the influence of Friedman
and Lucas has clearly shifted the debate since the early 1970s. Now it
is the proponents of a tradeoff who represent the minority view.
There are some who uses the TINA (there is no alternative) argument
against efforts to reform the Fed's approach to monetary policy. Yet it
is clear that the very structure of the Fed leans toward a particular
political theory of inflation that seems out of phase with reality.
The Fed, while independent within government, has seen its legislative
mandate for monetary policy change several times since its founding in
1913. The most recent revisions were in 1977 and 1978
(Humphrey-Hawkins), which require the Fed to promote both price
stability and full employment. The past changes in the Fed's mandate
appear to reflect both economic events in the United States and
advances in understanding of how the economy functions. In the two
decades since the Fed's mandate was last changed, there have been
further important economic and financial developments made possible by
shifts in economic thought that have been ideologically influenced, and
these raise the issue of whether the goals for US monetary policy need
to be modified once again in view of current data. Indeed, a number of
other countries - notably those that adopted the euro as a common
currency - having accepted price stability as the original primary goal
of their unified monetary policy, are raising similar questions. Japan,
having suffered a decade-long recession that begins to look perpetual,
has been pushing its central bank to undertake drastic stimulative
policies.
The Federal Reserve Act of 1913 did not incorporate any macroeconomic
goals for monetary policy, but instead required the Fed to "provide an
elastic currency". This meant that the Fed should help the economy
avoid the financial panics and bank runs that plagued the 19th century
by serving as a "lender of last resort", which involved making loans
directly to depository institutions through the discount windows of the
Reserve Banks. During this early period, most of the actions of
monetary policy that affected the macro-economy were determined by the
US government's adherence to the gold standard.
The trauma of the Great Depression, coupled with the insights of John
Maynard Keynes, led to an acknowledgment of the obligation of the US
government to prevent recessions. The Employment Act of 1946 was the
first legislative statement of these macroeconomic policy goals.
Although it did not specifically mention the Fed, it required the
federal government in general to foster "conditions under which there
will be afforded useful employment opportunities ... for those able,
willing, and seeking to work, and to promote maximum employment,
production, and purchasing power". Therein lies the fundamental flaw in
the wisdom of the political independence of the Federal Reserves.
Congress has never legislated unemployment as a legitimate tool to
fight inflation, economic theory notwithstanding. There is a whole list
of antisocial programs that, if made legal, could lead to economic
efficiency, such as terminating unproductive life, genetic engineering
to raise intelligence-quotient (IQ) scores or to eliminate costly
genetic diseases, selective education opportunities based on potential
economic performance, etc. Yet societal value condemns such programs.
Why is unemployment an exception?
The Great Inflation of the 1970s was a major US economic dislocation.
This problem was addressed in a 1977 amendment to the Federal Reserve
Act, which provided the first explicit recognition of price stability
as a national policy goal. The amended act states that the Fed "shall
maintain long-run growth of the monetary and credit aggregates
commensurate with the economy's long-run potential to increase
production, so as to promote effectively the goals of maximum
employment, stable prices, and moderate long-term interest rates". The
goals of "stable prices" and "moderate long-term interest rates" are
related because nominal interest rates are boosted by a premium over
real rates equal to expected future inflation. Thus, "stable prices"
will typically produce long-term interest rates that are "moderate".
The objective of "maximum" employment remained intact from the 1946
Employment Act; however, the interpretation of this term may have
changed during the intervening 30 years. Immediately after World War
II, when conscription and price controls had produced a high-pressure
economy with very low unemployment in the United States, some perhaps
believed that the goal of "maximum" employment could be taken in its
mathematical sense to mean the highest possible level of employment.
However, by the second half of the 1970s, it was well understood that
some "frictional" unemployment, which involves the search for new jobs
and the transition between occupations, is a necessary accompaniment to
the proper functioning of the economy in the long run.
This understanding went hand in hand in the latter half of the 1970s
with a general acceptance of the natural rate hypothesis, which implies
that if policy were to try to keep employment above its long-run trend
permanently or, equivalently, the unemployment rate below its natural
rate, then inflation would be pushed higher and higher. Policy can
temporarily reduce the unemployment rate below its natural rate or,
equivalently, boost employment above its long-run trend. However,
persistently attempting to maintain "maximum" employment that is above
its long-run level would not be consistent with the goal of stable
prices.
Thus, in order for maximum employment and stable prices to be mutually
consistent goals, maximum employment should be interpreted as meaning
maximum sustainable employment, referred to also as "full employment".
Moreover, although the Fed has little if any influence on the long-run
level of employment, it can attempt to smooth out short-run
fluctuations. Accordingly, promoting full employment can be interpreted
as a countercyclical monetary policy in which the Fed aims to smooth
out the amplitude of the business cycle.
This interpretation of the Fed's mandate was later confirmed in the
Humphrey-Hawkins legislation. As its official title - the Full
Employment and Balanced Growth Act of 1978 - clearly implies, this
legislation mandates the federal government generally to "... promote
full employment and production, increased real income, balanced growth,
a balanced federal budget, adequate productivity growth, proper
attention to national priorities, achievement of an improved trade
balance ... and reasonable price stability ...". Besides clarifying the
general goal of full employment, the Humphrey-Hawkins Act also
specified numerical definitions or targets. The act specified two
initial goals: an unemployment rate of 4 percent for full employment
and a CPI inflation rate of 3 percent for price stability. These were
only "interim" goals to be achieved by 1983 and followed by a further
reduction in inflation to 0 percent by 1988; however, the disinflation
policies during this period were not to impede the achievement of the
full-employment goal. Thereafter, the timetable to achieve or maintain
price stability and full employment was to be defined by each year's
Economic Report of the President.
The Fed, then, has two main legislated goals for monetary policy:
promoting full employment and promoting stable prices. The transparency
of goals refers to the extent to which the objectives of monetary
policy are clearly defined and can be easily and obviously understood
by the public. The goal of full employment will never be very
transparent because it is not directly observed but only estimated by
economists with limited precision. For example, the 1997 Economic
Report of the President (which has authority in this matter from the
Humphrey-Hawkins Act) gives a range of 5-6 percent for the unemployment
rate consistent with full employment, with a midpoint of 5.5 percent.
Research suggests that there is a very wide range of uncertainty around
any estimate of the natural rate. Price stability as a goal is also
subject to some ambiguity. Recent economic analysis has uncovered
systematic biases, say, on the order of 1 percentage point, in the
CPI's measurement of inflation.
In fact, it would not be far wrong to conclude that the Fed has a
policy to keep unemployment from falling below 4 percent, as evident in
Greenspan's raising the Fed Funds Rate in the late 1990s in response to
falling unemployment. The Wall Street Journal on October 3, 2000,
reported that the Fed had come under the influence of Johan G K
Wicksell (1851-1926) on the relationship among interest rates, growth
and inflation. The Fed had pushed inflation-adjusted real rates
historically high. Monetarists, who have dominated the Fed throughout
its history, subscribe to the theory that inflation can only be
prevented either by high rates to contain growth or by high
unemployment to depress wages, which are two faces of the same coin.
Wicksell argued that monetary policy works best at containing inflation
by pegging interest rates to investment returns rather than money
supply. That theory provides a needed cover for Greenspan's
high-interest-rate policy at the height of the debt bubble. Of course,
the Treasury, with the patriotic support of the Fed, has repeatedly
declared that a strong dollar is in the US national interest. And a
strong dollar requires high US interest rates in the international
finance architecture. But now, in addition to national-interest
justifications, a scientific theory has been resurrected to support
Greenspan's policy. Field data have demolished the claim that low
unemployment (below 6 percent) causes inflation. Greenspan calls his
high rates "equilibrium interest rates".
The Fed, notwithstanding its intellectual pretense, has always been a
political institution. The politics of economics repeatedly resurrects
from the intellectual wasteland, the theoretical Siberia as it were,
new gurus to support its latest ideology. Nobel winners are proponents
of theories that explain "scientifically" last year's political
expediency. The list includes Friedrich von Hayek (free market),
Friedman (monetary theory), Robert Mundell (global capital), Schumpeter
(creative destruction) etc. Wicksell makes it respectable for Greenspan
to abdicated his responsibility as Fed Chairman, by pretending to
follow the market, to treat interest rates as prices of money set by
market forces, and not as a tool to promote employment or growth, an if
necessary only as a tool to bail out banks in distress.
The embarrassing question of why then the United States needs a Federal
Reserve is never asked. The fact is that the monetarists at the Fed are
fervently intervening in the market - the only difference between
monetarists and Keynesians is that monetarists intervene to safeguard
the value of capital while Keynesians intervene to protect labor from
unemployment and low wages. As post-Keynesians economist Paul Davidson
said, everyone has an income policy; they just don't like the other
fellow's income policy but claim their own as "free" market determined.
This creates rethinks on Wall Street. Traders and investors may have to
reverse their knee-jerk reaction to sell when the Fed raises rates.
Unless, of course, corporate profit falls amid rising rates, as they
are beginning to.
Wicksell was born in Stockholm. His book Value, Capital and Rent (1893)
was not translated into English until 1954. His Lectures on Political
Economy (two volumes, 1901-06) and Selected Papers on Economic Theory
(1958) were read only by professionals. Wicksell did rigorous work on
the marginalist theory of price and distribution and on monetary
theory. Lectures on Political Economy has been aptly called a "textbook
for professors". In an unusually checkered career (including a brief
spell of imprisonment for exercising his right of free speech) he wrote
and lectured tirelessly of radical issues, which did not figure among
the qualities that Greenspan admired. He was an advocate of social and
economic reforms of various kinds, most notably neo-Malthusian
population controls. In his later years he was revered by the new
generation of economists, who became known as the Stockholm School.
They developed his ideas on the cumulative process into a dynamic
theory of monetary macroeconomics simultaneously with but independently
of the Keynesian revolution.
Greenspan's selective use of other people's idea is notorious. His
fondness of Schumpeterean "creative destruction", which he cites in
every speech, always leaves out the second half of Schumpeter's
conclusion: that creative destruction tends to encourage monopolies (a
la Microsoft) and accelerates the coming of socialism.
Paul Volcker's monetary policy was identical to that of Benjamin
Strong, who was president of the all-powerful New York Fed, and whose
stewardship of which was hailed by Friedman as the era of "high tide"
for the Fed. The policy was: save the banking system at all cost,
including the health of the economy. Depressions will eventually
recover, but a banking system is like Humpty Dumpty, all the king's men
cannot put it together again once it collapses. The stable value of
money is a defining ingredient of economic order, a sine qua non. Both
times, the Fed not only forced deflation on parts of the economy to
maintain overall low inflation, it managed monetary policy to ensure
perpetual surplus capacity to suppress prices and wages. In the 1980s,
one of the high-growth areas of the service sector was bankruptcy law
and distress debt restructuring. Vulture funds such as Apollo,
corporate raiders such as Carl Icahn and LBO (leveraged buyout) firms
such as KKR prospered. Post-bankruptcy DIP (debtor in possession)
financing was highly profitable and the bank that pioneered it,
Chemical of New York, became such a powerhouse from its dominance in
this lucrative activity that it was eventually able it to take over
Manufactures Hannover and Chase and J P Morgan to become JP
Morgan/Chase.
Yet stable money is ultimately an illusion, a statistical artifact. In
the quest for monetary order, stable money in reality creates economic
disorder in the real economy. Within the conservative political context
of capitalism, stable money produces a complacency of moral
satisfaction. The winners are credited with financial genius and
rewarded with the right to practice conspicuous consumption, taking on
celebrity status. The losers are condemned for their mistakes. It fits
neatly into Spencerian Social Darwinism of survival of the fittest,
notwithstanding that the criteria for fitness have been defined by
policy. The tilted market is hailed as the indiscriminate crucible of
perpetual economic revitalization, while in fact a handful of men in
the paneled boardroom of the Fed play God to decide who lives and who
dies.
Deflationary pressure does force management to downsize and cut costs,
cutting out the weak and the marginal. But the central effect is the
consolidation of ownership through mergers and acquisition. M&A,
the legal process of wealth concentration, has been the driving force
of the growth of capitalism since the late Middle Ages. With
globalization, we are heading toward an economic order in which every
sector can accommodate only five megafirms, two real players, market
leaders as they are called, in a carefully choreographed condominium
that appears to be managed competition to stay on the good side of
antitrust laws, with three minor players permitted to survive for
appearance' sake.
The essence of monetary policy, like all policies, despite technical
complexities, is ultimately reduced to social values that determine
goals and priorities. It comes down to welfare economics and power
politics. Yet the Fed operates on ideology exclusively. As Preston
Martin, Fed vice chairman, declared more than once in the '80s: a
growth recession is a real threat.
Global capital will stay in the United States for the same reason that
people stay in jobs they don't like: there are no better alternatives.
The euro reinforced that sentiment. The last joyride with the yen ended
with much pain in 1998. One cannot predict when capital flight will hit
the United States, because US hegemony deprives any incentive to move
capital elsewhere and global prosperity cannot revive without US
prosperity. There is the catch 22.
Yet despite the abundance of capital funds, the system can implode. The
only uncertainty is when, not if. Global capital now treats local
markets as parking lots only and increasingly unlike physical parking
lots, for financial virtual parking, the one nearest to your office is
not necessarily the most convenient. If the United States will lower
interest rates, regulate credit allocation, permit a higher rate of
inflation, and raise wages substantially to keep up purchasing power,
both domestically and globally, the boom may last another decade. But
US policy makers are not yet on this track. The disparity of income
will doom this debt economy.
Note 1
The three customary monetary aggregates are: M1 = currency in
circulation, commercial bank demand deposits, NOW (negotiable order of
withdrawal) and ATS (auto transfer from savings), credit-union share
drafts, mutual-savings-bank demand deposits, non-bank traveler's
checks; M2 = M1 plus overnight repurchase agreements issued by
commercial banks, overnight eurodollars, savings accounts, time
deposits under $100,000, money market mutual shares; M3 = M2 plus time
deposits over $100,000, term repo agreements.
Next: The Asian Experience
Part
III-d: The
Lesson of the
US Experience
Part 4a: The Asian experience
This article appeared in AToL
on June 18, 2003
Since
the beginning of the new
millennium, the world's three leading economies, the United States, the
European Union and Japan, have experienced a rare synchronous slowdown
while much of the developing world, including Asia, remained mired in
economic and financial difficulties that started in Asia in 1997.
This
development has rendered inoperative the strategy of having the global
economic engine stabilized by sequential boosts from the synchronized
phasing of domestic business cycles in connected yet independent
economies, like the well-timed sequential firing of a multi-cylinder
internal combustion engine. The current global economic stagnation is
not an accidental breakdown. It is the visible result of the
coordinated operation of global central banking, burning out the
economic spark plugs with super-rich gas in the form of universal and
reflexive tight monetary measures, which have produced overlapping
long-term imbalances in the global economy's major regional dynamos.
The
decade-long post-bubble deflation in Japan was linked to financial
globalization that challenged the efficacy of the traditional Japanese
financial system. The Tokyo Big Bang (financial deregulation) on April
1, 1998, crowned with a Central Bank Law on the same day, was designed
to boost the value of the Japanese stock market, aiming to re-establish
Tokyo's position as one of the top three global financial centers. Once
the largest stock market in the world, Tokyo by 1998 had fallen
steadily to less than half the size of New York in contrast with the
latter's astronomical expansion. Although the Japanese had savings of
about US$9 trillion in 1998, a third of the world total, most savings
were held in low-interest bank and postal accounts on which the
Japanese government traditionally relied for low-cost capital to fund
its national economic plans. The population was aging rapidly and the
government was worried there would not be enough money in the economy
to support future pensioners because of the low return on savings.
Neo-liberal
market fundamentalists pushed through a series of radical reforms
designed to change the way money traditionally flowed around the
Japanese economy, recycling more savings into the stock market to boost
yield. The government hoped to bring Tokyo back in line with the high
trading levels of London and New York, pulling the value of the
recycled savings up with it by increasing their rate of return. The
reforms were called the Big Bang after a similar exercise in Britain 12
years earlier on October 27, 1986, which in turn was inspired by May
Day in the US in 1975, which ended fixed minimum brokerage commissions
that marked the beginning of diversification into electronic trading.
Instead
of bringing new prosperity and high returns to fund exploding pension
obligations, the Tokyo Big Bang reduced Japanese banks, which earlier
had been operating with spectacular success in a national banking
regime in support of Japanese industrial policy, to near-terminal cases
in a global central banking environment. Subsidized policy loans that
had served postwar national purposes for half a century suddenly became
non-performing loans (NPLs) as defined by new international standards
set by the Bank of International Settlement (BIS), as corporate
borrowers were forced by dollar hegemony to sacrifice profit margin to
expand market share, while financial deregulation put downward pressure
on the traditional norm of high price-earning ratios of Japanese
equity. The banks' traditional holding of significant equity position
in their corporate borrowers and the tradition of a controlled domestic
market caused structural problems for the Japanese financial system in
the new globalized competitive environment. The banks were squeezed by
falling cash flow from loan service payments by their distressed
debtors and by the falling market value of loan collateral and capital
held in the shares of their borrowers.
The
Tokyo stock market's key Nikkei index tumbled from an all-time high of
21,552.81 recorded on June 13, 1994, to below the psychologically
crucial 15,000 level in July 1995 when the yen's sharp appreciation hit
manufacturers and exporters. The Nikkei is now around 8,500 and
Japanese officials would kill to get it back to 15,000, but it seems to
be an impossible dream because global central banking has forced
deregulated markets to discount the market value of the Japanese system
that had worked so miraculously for the previous half-century. The
government tried to solve the problem with Keynesian deficit financing,
only to be hit with international credit-rating downgrades on
government bonds, despite the fact that Japan remains the world's
biggest credit nation.
Concurrently
in Europe, persistently high levels of unemployment and anemic growth
plagued the euro zone, whose European Central Bank (ECB) came into
being on June 1, 1998, two months after Japan's. And in the United
States, by the beginning of 2000, a steady collapse of the debt bubble
began, generated by unsustainably high consumer, business and external
debt levels that had been first engineered by the Federal Reserve (Fed)
through regulatory indulgence and then later deflated through sharp
rises in interest rates.
Since
then, the global economic engine has been stalled in all three
cylinders by the efforts of the world's three dominant central banks to
impose on the global economy destructively inoperative monetary
policies.
After
allowing regulatory indulgence on the part of the US Security and
Exchange Commission (SEC) to feed a historic bubble in US asset prices
inflated by accounting fantasies, fraudulent analyses, and financial
manipulation, the Fed, reversing its loose monetary policy since 1997,
conducted a pre-election monetary tightening, repeatedly raising
interest rates in quick succession during the second half of 1999 and
the first half of 2000 to slow down the real economy. The Fed also
spurred the ECB to follow suit, despite already slow growth and high
unemployment in EU member economies.
The
Fed had discovered that for the United States, domestic consumer price
stability in an expanding economy could be achieved through a
strong-currency policy that would generate a capital account surplus to
finance a current-account deficit that produced a low inflation reading
through low-cost imports, as long as key commodities, such as oil, were
denominated in US currency. For a whole decade, wealth has been created
primarily through financial acrobatics, not real economic expansion
either within the US or around the world. Conspicuous consumption along
chic shopping boulevards, cruised by gas-guzzling sport-utility
vehicles, to fill homes that rose in price by 60 percent annually,
supported by the wealth effect of a stock-market bubble that made
office clerical workers millionaires, buoyant by a trade regime that
enabled a massive transfer of wealth from the poor to the super rich,
is mistaken for economic growth. Fed chairman Alan Greenspan proudly
called this US financial hegemony and told Congress that the financial
crises that hit Asia in 1997 would have "salutary" effect on the US
economy.
During
the past decade, central banks worldwide have achieved unprecedented
heights of policy dominance through their function as chief guardians
of strong national currencies in globalized, unregulated financial
markets. Simultaneously, monetary authorities the world over have been
promoting the doctrine of central-bank independence from duly
constituted national governments and their national economic policies,
as if populist government and people-oriented policies are financial
evils that must be resisted. Poverty and unemployment are hailed as the
foundation of sound money that should not be jeopardized by political
pressure. This elitist doctrine is fundamentally incompatible with a
political world order of independent nation states and the principle of
consent of the governed. Any nation that forfeits its monetary
prerogative also forfeits its political independence.
The
ECB's institutional structure represents the ultimate real-world
application of this doctrine on a regional scale. In the name of
central-bank autonomy, the Maastricht Treaty explicitly prohibits the
ECB from seeking or taking instruction from constituent national
governments, or European Community institutions such as the European
Parliament, or "any other body", and bars constituent national
governments from attempting to influence the decisions of the ECB.
Critics have pointed out that those same rules place no reciprocal
restrictions on the ECB's policy advocacy. ECB president Wim Duisenberg
has unreservedly pushed euro zone economies to refashion their labor,
product, services, capital and credit markets along neo-liberal
market-fundamentalist lines, even in economies under social democratic
governments. This has contributed to the EU's slow growth and high
unemployment. Germany, the dominant economy in the EU, has persistently
suffered high unemployment, which hit 9.7 percent in November, rising
above the politically sensitive 4 million level; in eastern Germany,
the unemployment rate was 17.6 percent.
Article
105 of the Maastricht Treaty states clearly: "The primary objective of
the European System of Central Banks shall be to maintain price
stability." The wording of the Maastricht Treaty was not so much
influenced by economic insights as it was written in a very specific
political context: to persuade an inflation-averse Germany to exchange
the deutschmark for the euro, by guaranteeing the stability of the new
currency. This explains the focus on price stability and the fact that
other objectives were mentioned separately and secondarily. The
statutes of other central banks, such as the Fed, can be changed by
action of a single legislature. The ECB would require all 15 member
states and their parliaments to change the treaty that defines the
structure and institutional mandate of the ECB. This makes the ECB one
of the most independent central banks in the world. The treaty did not
define "price stability", leaving a vacuum quickly filled by the new
and independent ECB by defining price stability as "an inflation rate
that does not exceed 2 percent over the medium term", a very tight
definition by any standard. Interest-rate policy alone is an inadequate
tool because a single instrument cannot hit multiple targets.
Furthermore, using interest rates to control asset markets risks
inflicting significant collateral damage on the rest of the economy,
which was exactly what happened in the past few years.
The
BIS harbors latent ambitions to turn itself into a de facto World
Central Bank (WCB) with the ECB as a model, while the argument for the
need for a WCB is floated around in the upper reaches of
internationalist monetary circles.
Asia
is home to 58 percent of the world's 6.25 billion people, with 43
percent of Asians living in East Asia and 37 percent in China alone.
According to US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) data, the US economy
accounts for 21 percent of gross world product (GWP - $47 trillion in
2001), the EU accounts for 20 percent and Japan accounts for 7.3
percent. The three leading economies together account for $22 trillion
- 47.3 percent of GWP.
China,
the second-largest economy in the world based on purchasing power
parity (PPP; 12 percent of GWP), and seventh on a nominal basis ($1.3
trillion in 2001, 2.8 percent of GWP) is an exception to global trends
of slow growth, continuing its rapid annual growth, officially
announced as 7.3 percent in 2001 and 8 percent in 2002. Yet lest we
should get carried away by statistics, the Chinese per capita gross
domestic product (GDP) of about $900 in 2001 remains solidly in the
less-developed-countries (LDC) category, way below Japan's $32,500. Of
the 129 countries covered by the World Development Report, China ranked
76th in per capita GDP on a nominal basis and 68th on a PPP basis, a
modest climb. China's economic strength rests purely on its size. China
also adopted a Central Bank Law in 1995 and gave the People's Bank of
China central-bank status, but the Chinese economy has remained a
growth economy mostly because its currency is not freely convertible
and its financial market is not open, and its central bank not fully
independent.
There
is increasing evidence that the crisis in the Japanese banking system
is not the cause but merely the symptom of that nation's economic
malaise. This malaise can largely be traced to the Japanese economy's
over-dependence on export for dollars, which in turn has resulted from
the disadvantaged structural financial position Japan has allowed
itself to fall into in the global financial system. BIS regulations,
which force traditional Japanese national banking in support of a
strong economy to shift toward central banking in support of a strong
national currency, are a big part of that structural disadvantage. This
is the reason Japan has been resistant to US demands for bank reform.
The NPL problem in Japanese banks traces directly to BIS regulations.
This is also true for all of Asia, particularly South Korea, and
increasingly China. No doubt Japan needs to reform its banking system,
but it is highly debatable that the reform needs to go along the line
proposed by US neo-liberals, or that bank reform alone will lift the
Japanese economy out of its decade-long doldrums (see The
BIS vs national banks,
May 14, 2002).
All
these problems contributed to and in turn were magnified by structural
flaws and disorders in the international financial architecture and
global trade, notably misaligned currency values and interest rate
disparities. This has led to escalating mismatches between productive
capacity and effective demand, which has been exacerbated by a "free
trade" regime that has degenerated into a mad scramble for dollars that
the United States can print at will. The whole world lives on an
over-reliance on export to a US consumer market fueled by debt
sustained by dollar hegemony. The ABC of the global economy is now
expressed as America prints dollars to Buy the world's
products on Credit provided by the world's producers. The US is
exempt from a day of reckoning, since the US only has to print more
dollars, as Fed Board member Ben Bernanke pronounced recently. Foreign
creditors will only devalue their massive dollar holdings if they try
to collect from the US economy. It is the ultimate demonstration of
debtor power, with the debtor holding the power to print currency in
which the debt is denominated. Asia, because of its largest population
of low-wage workers, is holding the shortest end of the biggest global
trade stick.
The
Asian financial crisis that began in 1997 had its genesis in Mexico,
incubated by a decade of globalization of financial markets. The
currency crisis that started in Mexico in 1982, in Britain in 1992,
again in Mexico in 1994, in Asia in 1997, spreading to Russia and Latin
America since and finally hitting both the EU and the US in 2000, and
the deeper structural financial challenges facing the entire global
economy, have been the inevitable result of the Fed, the ECB and the
Bank of Japan applying their unified institutional mandates of domestic
price stability through domestic interest-rate policies that have
destabilized the post-Bretton Woods international finance architecture.
The
Mexican financial crisis of 1982 set the pattern for subsequent
financial crises around the world. To recycle petrodollars beginning in
1973, US banks had sought out select LDCs, such as Brazil, Mexico,
Argentina, South Korea, Taiwan, the Philippines, Indonesia, etc, for
predatory lending. By 1980, LDCs had accumulated $400 billion in
foreign debt, more than their combined GDP. In 1982, impacted by the
Fed under Paul Volcker raising dollar interest rates sharply in 1979 to
fight inflation in the United States, Mexico was put in a position of
not being able to meet its obligations to service $80 billion in
dollar-denominated short-term debt obligations to foreign, mostly US,
banks out of a GDP of $106 billion. Debt service payments reached 62.8
percent of export value in 1979. Exports accounted for 12 percent of
GDP while government expenditures accounted for 11 percent, which
included public-education expenditure of 5.2 percent. Mexico was paying
more in interest to foreign banks than it did to educate its young.
Mexican foreign reserves had fallen to less than $200 million and
capital was leaving the country at the rate of $100 million a day.
Against this background, neo-liberal economists were claiming that
poverty was being eradicated in Mexico by "free" trade, a claim they
made the world over.
A
Mexican default would have threatened the survival of the largest
commercial banks in the United States, namely Citibank, Chase,
Chemical, Bank of America, Bankers Trust, Manufacturer Hanover, etc. To
negotiate new loans for Mexico, all creditors would have to agree and
participate, so that the new loans would not just go pay off some
holdout creditors at the expense of the others. Many other creditor
banks were smaller US regional banks that had only limited exposure to
Mexico, and they did not want to "throw good money after bad" merely to
bail out the major money center banks. The big banks had to lobby the
Fed to step in as crisis manager to keep the smaller banks in line for
the good of the system, notwithstanding that the crisis had been caused
largely by the Fed's failure to impose prudent limits on the money
center banks' frenzied lending to the Third World in the previous
decade and Volcker's sudden high-interest-rate shock treatment in 1979,
instead of traditional Fed gradualism that would have given the banks
time to adjust their loan portfolios. Third World economies were
falling likes flies from the weight of debts that suddenly became
prohibitive to service, not much different from private businesses in
the United States, except that countries could not go bankrupt to wipe
out debt the way private business could in the US. Volcker's triumph
over domestic inflation was bought with the destabilization of the
international financial system, whose banks had acted like loan sharks
in the Third World with Fed approval. The International Monetary Fund
then came in to take over the impaired bank loans with austerity
"conditionalities" forced on the debtor economies, while the foreign
banks went home whole with the IMF new money.
As
a
result, Third World economies, including those in Asia, fell into a
debt spiral, having to borrow new money from the IMF to service the old
debts, being forced by new loan "conditionalities" to forgo any hope of
future prosperity. Living standards kept declining while foreign debts
kept piling higher, leading to even higher unemployment and more
bankruptcies.
US
banks, while continuing to advocate free markets and financial
deregulation, were at the same time falling into total dependence on
government bailouts, both domestically and internationally. US
taxpayers were footing the bill the Fed incurred in bailing out its
constituent banks, through higher government budget deficits, which
contributed to higher inflation, which led to higher interest rates,
which in turn intensified the Third World debt spiral, in one huge
vicious circle.
By
the late 1980s, Mexico had temporarily resolved its debt crisis, though
not its debt spiral, and was able to resume a Ponzi-scheme economic
growth, relying to a great extent on rising foreign investment. To
attract more foreign capital, the Mexican government, coached by
neo-liberal market-fundamentalist economists, undertook major economic
reforms in the early 1990s designed to make its economy more open to
foreign investment, more "efficient", and more "competitive",
neo-liberal code words for disguised neo-imperialism. These reforms
included privatizing state-owned enterprises, removing trade barriers
that protected domestic producers, eliminating restrictions on foreign
investment, and reducing inflation by tolerating higher unemployment
and pushing down already low wages and limiting government spending on
social programs by marketizing them. Most important, it suspended
exchange control within a fixed-foreign-exchange-rate regime.
This
was in essence a Washington Consensus solution and much copied all over
Asia in the early 1990s. In effect, it was a suicidal policy masked by
the giddy expansion typical of the early phase of a Ponzi scheme. The
new foreign investment was used to provide spectacular returns on
earlier foreign investment with the help of central-bank support of
overvalued fixed exchange rates, while neo-liberal economists were
falling over one another congratulating themselves on their brilliant
theoretical insight and giving one another awards at insider dinners,
while collecting fat consultant fees from banks and governments. Star
academics at Harvard, Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT),
Chicago and Stanford, multiple snake heads of the academic Medusa, as
well as those in prestigious policy-analysis institutions with
unabashed ideological preferences that served as waiting lounges for
policy specialists of the loyal opposition, busily turned out star
disciples from the Third World elite who, armed with awe-inspiring
foreign certificates and diplomas, would return to their home countries
to form influential policy-making establishments, particularly in
central banks, to promote this scandalous game of snake-oil economics.
Every year, sponsored by the IMF and the World Bank, central bankers
gathered in Washington, housed in luxurious hotel suites served by
fleets of limousines to reassure one another of their monetary magic,
communicating through opaque press releases couched in cryptic jargon.
Mexico's
devaluation of the peso in December 1994 precipitated another crisis in
the country's financial institutions and markets that caused an abrupt
collapse of a "booming" economy that had not benefited Mexico as much
as foreign capital. Within Mexico, most of the benefit went to the
elite comprador class at the expense of the general population,
particularly the poor but even the middle class. International and
domestic investors, reacting to falling confidence in the peso, sold
Mexican equity and debt securities. Foreign-currency reserves at the
Bank of Mexico, the nation's central bank, were insufficient to meet
the massive demand of disillusioned investors seeking to convert pesos
to dollars. In response to the crisis, the United States organized a
financial rescue package of up to $50 billion in funds from the US,
Canada, the IMF and the BIS. The multilateral rescue package was
intended to enable Mexico to avoid defaulting on its debt obligations,
and thereby overcome its short-term liquidity crisis, and to prevent
the crisis from spreading to other emerging markets through contagion.
It was not to help a Mexican economy hemorrhaging from a bankrupt
monetary policy, one that allowed international investors to collect
their phantom Ponzi peso profits in real dollars. The Mexican rescue
package in 1995 created moral hazard on a global scale.
In
the weekend before Mexico's pending default, the US government took the
lead in developing a rescue package. The package put together by the
Fed under Alan Greenspan and the Treasury under Robert Rubin, a former
co-chairman of Goldman Sachs and a consummate bond trader, included
short-term currency swaps from the Fed and the Exchange Stabilization
Fund (ESF), a commitment from Mexico to an IMF-imposed economic
austerity program for $4 billion in IMF loans, and a moratorium on
Mexico's principal payments to foreign commercial banks, mostly US,
with Fed regulatory forbearance on bank capital adjustments that
affected bank profits. It also included $5 billion in additional
commercial bank loans, additional liquidity support from central banks
in Europe and Japan, and prepayment by the US to Mexico for $1 billion
in oil, and a $1 billion line of credit from the US Department of
Agriculture.
The
ESF was established by Section 20 of the Gold Reserve Act of January
1934, with a $2-billion initial appropriation. Its resources has been
subsequently augmented by special drawing rights (SDR) allocations by
the IMF and through its income over the years from interest on
short-term investments and loans, and net gains on foreign currencies.
The ESF engages in monetary transactions in which one asset is
exchanged for another, such as foreign currencies for dollars, and can
also be used to provide direct loans and guarantees to other countries.
ESF operations are under the control of the Secretary of the Treasury,
subject to the approval of the president. ESF operations include
providing resources for exchange-market intervention. The ESF has also
been used to provide short-term swaps and guarantees to foreign
countries needing financial assistance for short-term currency
stabilization. The short-term nature of these transactions has been
emphasized by amendments to the ESF statute requiring the president to
notify Congress if a loan or credit guarantee is made to a country for
more than six months in any 12-month period.
It
was Bear Stearns chief economist Wayne Angell, a former Fed governor
and advisor to then Senate majority leader Bob Dole, who first came up
with the idea of using the ESF to prop up the collapsing Mexican peso.
Bear Stearns had significant exposure to peso debts. Senator Robert
Bennett, a freshman Republican from Utah, took Angell's proposal to
Greenspan and Rubin, who both rejected the idea at first, shocked at
the blatant circumvention of constitutional procedures that this
strategy represented, which would invite certain reprisal from
Congress. Congress had implicitly rejected a rescue package that
January when the initial proposal of extending Mexico $40 billion in
loan guarantees could not get enough favorable votes. The chairman of
the Fed advised Bennett that the idea would only work if Congress's
silence could be guaranteed. Bennett went to Dole and convinced him
that the whole scam would work if the majority leader would simply
block all efforts to bring this use of taxpayers' money to a vote. It
would all happen by executive fiat. The next step was to persuade Dole
and his counterpart in the House, Speaker Newt Gingrich. They consulted
several state governors, notably then Texas governor George W Bush, who
enthusiastically endorsed the idea of a bailout to subsidize the border
region in his state. Greenspan, who historically opposed bailouts of
the private sector for fear of incurring moral hazard, was clearly in a
position to stop this one. Instead, he used his considerable power and
influence to help the process along when key players balked.
The
peso bailout would lead to a series of similar situations in which
private investors got themselves into trouble, vindicating the
moral-hazard principle that predicts such people will take undue risks
in the presence of bailout guarantees. As Thailand, Indonesia,
Malaysia, South Korea, and Russia stumbled into crisis, culminating in
the collapse of hedge-fund giant Long-Term Capital Management (LTCM),
which played key roles in precipitating the crisis to begin with,
Greenspan moved to increase liquidity to support the distressed bond
markets. At the helm of LTCM was yet another former member of the Fed
board, ex-vice chairman David Mullins. Mullins was there to plead for
help from his former colleagues. When New York Fed president William
McDonough helped coordinate a bailout of LTCM at his offices, Greenspan
defended McDonough before a congressional oversight committee.
Reflecting on all the corporate welfare being doled out to prop up bad
private-sector investments worldwide, Bill Clinton appointee Alice
Rivlin, the able former congressional budget director, observed that
"the Fed was in a sense acting as the central banker of the world".
During Clinton's first term, Greenspan had handed the president a
"pro-incumbent-type economy" and was rewarded with a seat next to the
First Lady in Clinton's televised State of the Union address and a
third-term appointment as Fed chairman. Crony capitalism was in full
swing.
Short-term
currency swaps are repurchase-type agreements through which currencies
are exchanged. Mexico purchased dollars in exchange for pesos and
simultaneously agreed to sell dollars against pesos three months hence.
The US earned interest on its Mexican pesos at a specified rate.
Historically,
the US and Mexican economies have always been closely integrated in a
semi-colonial relationship. In 1994, the United States supplied 69
percent of Mexico's high-value-added imports and absorbed about 85
percent of its low-cost labor-intensive exports. US investors have
provided a substantial share of foreign investment in Mexico and have
established numerous manufacturing facilities there to take advantage
of low wages and unregulated labor and environmental regimes. Also, the
US has served as a large market for illegal Mexican immigrant labor in
its underground economy and farm sector, which has grown to be a
sizable foreign-currency earner for Mexico. Mexico has long been the
third-largest trading partner of the United States, accounting for 10
percent of US exports and about 8 percent of US imports in 1994. The
maquiladora assembly industry concentrated on the Mexican side of the
US-Mexico border was hailed by neo-liberals as a model of successful
free trade, instead of the sweatshop zone it actually was.
In
1994, under newly installed president Ernesto Zedillo, a Yale-educated
economist, Mexico entered the North American Free Trade Agreement with
the United States and Canada. NAFTA, conceived as a regional economic
counterweight to the EU, further opened Mexico to foreign investment
and bolstered investor interest on the hope that with NAFTA, Mexico's
long-term prospects for stable economic development were likely to
improve, at least for the benefit of foreign investors. NAFTA, as
negotiated and signed in December 1992 by the administrations of
Mexican president Carlos Salinas de Gortari and US president George
Bush Sr, and as amended and implemented by the Salinas and Clinton
administrations in 1993, did not offer Mexico any significant increase
in access to the US market. Rather, Mexico was blackmailed into signing
NAFTA to prevent Mexican businesses from being bankrupted wholesale by
sudden waves of pending US protectionism.
Mexico
was also advised by neo-liberals to adopt an exchange-rate system
intended to protect foreign investors who could exchange their peso
earnings for dollars at the Mexican central bank at an overvalued rate.
In 1988, the nominal exchange rate of the peso had been fixed
temporarily in relation to the US dollar. However, because the
inflation rate in Mexico was greater than that in the United States, a
peso nominal depreciation against the dollar was needed to keep the
real exchange rate of the peso from increasing. With the nominal
exchange rate of the peso fixed, the real exchange rate of the peso
appreciated during this period. In 1989, this fixed-exchange-rate
system was replaced by a "crawling peg" system, under which the
peso-dollar exchange rate was adjusted daily to allow a slow rate of
nominal depreciation of the peso to occur over time. In 1991, the
crawling peg was replaced with a band within which the peso was allowed
to fluctuate. The ceiling of the band was adjusted daily to permit some
appreciation of the dollar (depreciation of the peso) to occur. The
Mexican government used the exchange-rate system as an anchor for an
unsustainable economic policy, ie, as a way to reduce inflation through
shrinking the economy, to force a politically destabilizing fiscal
policy, and thus to provide a comfortable climate for foreign
investors, who managed to carry home the same dollars they brought in
via a short circuit, while leaving only their peso holdings behind that
the Mexican central banks had promised to guarantee as fully
convertible at an over-valued fixed exchange rate despite predictable
unsustainability.
Before
1994, Mexico's strategy of adopting sound monetary and austere fiscal
policies appeared to be having its intended effects of making foreign
capital feel secure while the Mexican economy was steadily being
hollowed out. Inflation had been steadily reduced by the inflated peso,
government social spending was down to reduce the budget deficit, and
foreign capital investment was increasing. Moreover, unlike in the
years before 1982, most foreign capital was flowing to Mexico's private
sector that yielded higher returns rather than as low-interest loans to
the Mexican government to finance budget deficits. Although Mexico was
experiencing a very large current-account deficit, both in absolute
terms and in relation to the size of its economy, neo-liberal policy
makers did not consider it an immediate problem. They pointed to
Mexico's large foreign-currency reserves, its rising exports, and its
seemingly endless ability to attract and retain foreign investment.
This attitude ignored the fact that true wealth was leaving Mexico
through the turning of peso assets into dollar assets, masked by a
Mexican stock-market bubble fueled by an over-valued peso.
Reality
finally unmasked the faulty neo-liberal theory by late 1994. Mexico's
financial crisis was the inevitable outcome of the growing
inconsistency between its monetary and fiscal policies, its
over-dependence on export for growth, and its exchange-rate system
pegged to the dollar. Partly because of an upcoming presidential
election, Mexican authorities were reluctant to take actions in the
spring and summer of 1994, such as raising interest rates or devaluing
the peso, that could have reduced this inconsistency. This structural
policy inconsistency was exacerbated by the government's response to
several economic and political events that created investor concerns
about the likelihood of a currency devaluation. In response to investor
concerns, the government issued large amounts of short-term,
dollar-indexed notes called tesobonos. By the beginning of
December 1994, Mexico had become particularly vulnerable to a financial
crisis because its foreign-exchange reserves had fallen to $12.5
billion while it had tesobono obligations of $30 billion
maturing in 1995.
A
country can respond to a current-account deficit in four ways:
1.
Attract more foreign capital denominated in dollars. The US does not
need to do this because of dollar hegemony, but Mexico, which could not
print dollars, thus was forced to attract more foreign capital
denominated in dollars with a Ponzi scheme of paying old capital with
new capital.
2.
Use foreign-exchange reserves to cover the deficit. The US can do this
by printing dollars, the reserve currency of choice, but Mexico could
not print dollars, only pesos, which put more pressure on the
peso-dollar exchange rate.
3.
Allow its currency to depreciate, thus making imports more expensive
and exports cheaper. But for deeply indebted Mexico, a depreciated peso
would make servicing existing foreign loans more expensive in peso
terms.
4.
Tighten monetary and/or fiscal policy to reduce the demand for all
goods, including imports, shrinking the economy.
A
country such as Mexico can only use (3) and (4), as most Asian
countries also found out in 1997.
It
was obvious that Mexico was experiencing a large current-account
deficit financed mostly by short-term portfolio capital that was
vulnerable to a sudden reversal of investor confidence. Nevertheless,
neo liberal policy makers in both Mexico and Washington, while
acknowledging that the peso was overvalued and the existing exchange
rate was unsustainable, were undecided about the extent to which the
peso was overvalued and if and when financial markets might force
Mexico to take action. Estimates of the overvaluation ranged between 5
and 20 percent. Moreover, Fed and Treasury officials under Alan
Greenspan and Robert Rubin respectively did not foresee the magnitude
of the crisis that eventually unfolded. The IMF was oblivious to the
seriousness of the situation that was developing in Mexico and, for
most of 1994, did not see a compelling case for a change in Mexico's
exchange-rate policy. In the period prior to July 1997, when the Asian
financial crises broke out first in Thailand, the IMF was praising
South Korea and most other Asian economies for its continuing growth
and sound exchange-rate policies. Even after financial contagion was in
full force, the IMF kept releasing complacent prognoses of the
temporary nature of the crisis as a passing liquidity crunch, while
denying its structural causes.
The
objectives of the US and IMF rescue packages for Mexico, after the
December 1994 devaluation and the subsequent loss of market confidence
in the peso, were (1) to help Mexico overcome its allegedly short-term
liquidity crisis and (2) to limit the adverse effects of Mexico's
crisis spreading to the economies of other emerging market nations and
beyond. No effort was directed at restructuring fundamental neo-liberal
policy faults, nor to admit that localized isolation is empty hope in a
globalized system.
Many
observers opposed any US financial rescue to Mexico. They argued that tesobono
investors should not be shielded from financial losses on moral-hazard
grounds, and that neither the danger posed by the spread of Mexico's
crisis to other nations nor the risk to US trade, employment, and
immigration was sufficient to justify such bailout.
The
Bank of Mexico, the central bank, increased the interest rate from 9
percent to 18 percent on short-term, peso-denominated Mexican
government notes, called cetes, in an attempt to stem the
outflow of capital. However, despite higher interest rates, investor
demand for cetes continued to lag. Investors were demanding
even higher interest rates on newly issued cetes because of
their perception that the peso would be subject to progressively larger
devaluation by rising interest rates. It was a classic vicious circle.
Options available to the Mexican government at this time included (1)
offering even higher interest rates on cetes; (2) reducing
government expenditures to reduce domestic demand, decrease imports,
and relieve pressure on the peso; or (3) devaluing the peso. All three
options would lead to increased downward pressure on the peso and the
economy. The only workable option, exchange control in the form of
restrictive capital flow, was not considered by the
Harvard-Yale-trained Mexican central bankers, nor encouraged by US
advisors. It was not until 1998, when Malaysia successfully adopted
exchange control, that some born-again market-failure fundamentalists,
led by MIT economist Paul Krugman, grudging acknowledged it as a
legitimate option.
From
the perspective of the Mexican authorities, the first two choices were
unattractive in a presidential-election year because they could have
led to a significant downturn in economic activity and could have
further weakened Mexico's banking system. The third choice,
devaluation, was also unattractive, since Mexico's success in
attracting substantial new foreign investment to feed its Ponzi scheme
depended on its commitment to maintain a stable exchange rate. In
addition, a stable exchange rate had been an essential ingredient of
long-standing policy agreements among government, labor, and business,
and these agreements were perceived as ensuring economic and social
stability. Also, the stable exchange rate was considered a key to
continued reductions in the inflation rate by orthodox neo-classical
economics. Ironically, typical of all Ponzi schemes, success was fatal
because it accelerated unsustainability.
Rather
than adopting any of these options, the government chose, in the spring
of 1994, to increase its issuance of tesobonos. Because tesobonos
were dollar-indexed, holders could avoid losses that would otherwise
result if Mexico subsequently chose to devalue its currency. The
government promised to repay investors an amount, in pesos, sufficient
to protect the dollar value of their investment. Tesobono
financing in effect dollarized Mexican sovereign debt and transferred
foreign-exchange risk from investors to the Mexican central bank and
government and to provide a short-term liquidity solution that would
exacerbate long-term structural problems. Tesobonos proved
attractive to domestic and foreign investors. However, as sales of tesobonos
rose, Mexico became vulnerable to a financial market crisis because
many tesobono purchasers were portfolio investors who were very
sensitive to changes in interest rates and related risks. Furthermore, tesobonos
had short maturities, which meant that their holders might not roll
them over if investors perceived (1) an increased risk of a government
default or (2) higher returns elsewhere. Market discipline operated
like a pool of circling hungry sharks.
Nevertheless,
Mexican authorities viewed tesobono financing as the best way
to stabilize foreign-exchange reserves over the short term and to avoid
the immediate costs implicit in the other alternatives. In fact,
Mexico's foreign-exchange reserves did stabilize at a level of about
$17 billion from the end of April through August 1994, when the
presidential elections came to a conclusion. Mexican authorities
expected that investor confidence would be restored after the August
presidential election and that investment flows would return in
sufficient amounts to preclude any need for continued, large-scale tesobono
financing.
After
the election, however, foreign-investment flows did not recover to the
extent expected by Mexican authorities, in part because peso interest
rates were allowed to decline in August and were maintained at that
level until December. During the autumn of 1994, it became increasingly
clear that Mexico's mix of monetary, fiscal, and exchange-rate policies
needed to be adjusted. The current-account deficit had worsened during
the year, partly as a result of the strengthening of the economy
related to a moderate pre-election loosening of fiscal policy,
including a step up in development lending, which was considered by
market fundamentalists as a big no-no. Imports had also surged as the
peso became further overvalued. Mexico had become heavily exposed to a
run on its foreign-exchange reserves as a result of substantial tesobono
financing. Outstanding tesobono obligations increased from $3.1
billion at the end of March to $29.2 billion in December. Also, between
January and November 1994, US three-month Treasury bill yields had
risen from 3.04 percent to 5.45 percent, substantially increasing the
attractiveness of US government securities. In the middle of November
1994, Mexican authorities had to draw down foreign-currency reserves to
meet the demand for dollars.
On
November 15, 1994, in response to US domestic economic conditions, the
Fed raised the federal funds rate by three-quarters of a percentage
point to 5.5 percent, raising the general level of dollar interest
rates and further increasing the attractiveness of US bonds to
investors. By late November and early December, poor economic
performance spilled over to political incidents that caused
apprehension among investors regarding Mexico's political stability.
These concerns were compounded on December 9, when the new Mexican
administration revealed that it expected an even higher current-account
deficit in 1995 but planned no change in its exchange-rate policy. This
decision led to a further loss in confidence by investors, increased
redemptions of Mexican securities, and a significant drop in
foreign-exchange reserves to $10 billion. Meanwhile, Mexico's
outstanding tesobono obligations reached $30 billion, all
coming due in 1995. However, Mexican government officials continued to
assure investors that the peso would not be devalued.
On
December 20, Mexican authorities sought to relieve pressure on the
exchange rate by announcing a widening of the peso-dollar exchange-rate
band. The widening of the band in effect devalued the peso by about 15
percent. However, the government did not announce any new fiscal or
monetary measures to accompany the devaluation - such as raising
interest rates. This inaction was accompanied by more than $4 billion
in losses in foreign reserves on December 21 and, on December 22,
Mexico was forced to float its currency freely. The discrepancy between
the stated exchange-rate policy of the Mexican government throughout
most of 1994 and its devaluation of the peso on December 20, along with
a failure to announce appropriate accompanying economic-policy
measures, contributed to a significant loss of investor confidence in
the newly elected government and growing fear that default was
imminent.
Consequently,
downward pressure on the peso continued. By early January 1995,
investors realized that tesobono redemptions could soon exhaust
Mexico's reserves and, in the absence of external assistance, that
Mexico might default on its dollar-indexed and dollar-denominated debt.
As
1994 began, signs were visible that Mexico was vulnerable to
speculative attacks on the peso and that its large and growing
current-account deficit and its exchange-rate policy might not be
sustainable. However, neo-liberal economists generally thought that
Mexico's economy was characterized by "sound economic fundamentals" and
that, with the major economic reforms of the past decade along
Washington Consensus lines, Mexico had laid an adequate foundation for
economic growth in the long term. In reality, Mexico was exporting real
wealth and importing hot money with the help of a flawed central-bank
policy that was attracting large capital inflows and held substantial
foreign-exchange reserves derived from foreign debt. Concerns about the
viability of Mexico's exchange-rate system increased after the
assassination of presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio in the
latter part of March and the subsequent drawdown of about $10 billion
in foreign-exchange reserves by the end of April. Just after the
assassination, US Treasury and Fed officials temporarily enlarged
long-standing currency-swap facilities with Mexico from $1 billion to
$6 billion. These enlarged facilities were made permanent with the
establishment of the North American Financial Group in April. The
initiative to enlarge the swap facilities permanently preceded the
Colosio assassination. Mexican foreign-exchange reserves stabilized at
about $17 billion by the end of April 1994.
At
the end of June 1994, a new run on the peso was under way. Between June
21 and July 22, foreign-exchange reserves were drawn down by nearly $3
billion, to about $14 billion. In early July, Mexico asked the Fed and
Treasury to explore with the central banks of certain European
countries the establishment of a contingency, short-term swap facility.
That facility could be used in conjunction with the US-Mexican swap
facility to help Mexico cope with possible exchange-rate volatility in
the period leading up to the August election. By July, staff in the Fed
had concluded that Mexico's exchange rate probably was overvalued and
that some sort of adjustment eventually would be needed. However, US
officials thought that Mexican officials might be correct in hoping
that foreign capital inflows could resume after the August elections.
In August, the US and the BIS established the requested swap facility,
but not until US officials had secured an oral understanding with
Mexico that it would adjust its exchange-rate system if pressure on the
peso continued after the election. The temporary facility incorporated
the US-Mexican $6 billion swap arrangement established in April. At the
end of July, pressure on the peso abated, and Mexican foreign-exchange
reserves increased to more than $16 billion.
Significant new pressure
on the peso did not develop immediately after the August election, but
at the same time, capital inflows did not return to their former
levels.
The
Fed and Treasury did not foresee the serious consequences that an
abrupt devaluation would have on investor confidence in Mexico. These
included a possible wholesale flight of capital that could bring Mexico
to the point of default and, in the judgment of US and IMF officials,
require a major financial assistance package. IMF officials thought
that Mexico's sizable exports meant there was not a need to adjust the
foreign-exchange policy. They did not foresee the exchange-rate crisis
and, for most of 1994, did not see a compelling case for a change in
Mexico's exchange-rate policy. The IMF completed an annual review of
Mexico's foreign-exchange and economic policies in February 1994. The
review did not identify problems with Mexico's exchange-rate policy.
This pattern of IMF complacency was repeated in Asia and Latin America
throughout the rest of the decade.
Whereas
the 1982 rescue package would turn out to be just the beginning of a
protracted process of managing Mexico's excessive indebtedness,
including several concerted debt-rescheduling exercises, a debt
buy-back, and the 1990 debt-reduction agreement negotiated under the
terms of the Brady Plan, the 1995 rescue package worked better. After
the 1982 rescue package, Mexico received support from the Fed and the
Treasury on three other occasions, but always in the form of interim
financing while other workouts were concluded. The difference between
the 1982 and 1995 packages is that while the former was followed by a
decade of living in "exile" from the international capital markets, the
latter was successful in quickly restoring market access. The
difference in outcomes must be related to the size of the financial
package and its medium-term quality. In 1995 the financial rescue
package was designed to be large enough plausibly to solve Mexico's
liquidity crisis; in 1982, the package was large enough to avoid a
Mexican default but for the next six years the country had to go from
one rescheduling exercise to another, with the uncertainty of whether
the country would be able to meet its obligations always lurking on the
horizon. Success in the 1995 package was not applicable to correcting
Mexico's fundamental debt problem.
In
1995, after the Federal Reserve started to hike interest rates in 1994
and sharply curtailed its own purchase of Treasury bills, triggering
the Mexico peso crisis and a subsequent US slowdown, the Bank of Japan
initiated a program to buy $100 billion of US treasuries. China bought
$80 billion. Hong Kong and Singapore bought $22 billion each. South
Korea, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia and the Philippines bought $30
billion. The Asian purchase totaled $260 billion from 1994-97, the
entire increase in foreign-held US dollar reserves. These recycled
dollars pushed up stock prices in the United States.
Like
the rest of the world, Asia is heavily dependent on export to the
United States. Japan, by far the largest Asian economy, is paralyzed by
an export addiction for dollars that are useless in Japan. This
paralysis is made worse by an institutionally based policy dispute
between the Ministry of Finance and the Bank of Japan, its newly
installed central bank, in dealing with its economic woes. The dispute
centers on the nature of the Japanese banking system and its
traditional national banking role in supporting the export-based
national economic policy. Central banking, as espoused by BIS
regulations, challenges the very root of Japanese political-economy
culture, which has never viewed reform as a license to weaken Japanese
nationalism that saved Japan from Western imperialism in the 19th
century. The Japanese model, until it became captured by Japanese
militarism, provided inspiration for nationalist movements all over
Asia against Western imperialism.
After 1979, central banking has been
viewed increasingly as the monetary institution of financial
neo-liberalism, which has become synonymous with economic
neo-imperialism.
In
the US and EU, fiscal policy was significantly diminished as a
macroeconomic policy tool in the 1990s, releasing the Fed and the ECB
to assume the role of meta-political economic manager for their
societies. Money, instead of an engine of commerce for the benefit of
people, has become an economic icon whose sanctity must be defended
with human casualties for the good of the increasingly
internationalized financial system. Unregulated global financial
markets operating within the context of international monetary anarchy
allows these two key central banks to impact economic growth adversely,
first in the rest of the world, now even in their home countries. When
the Fed moved to tighten monetary policy in 1999-2000, after a panic
ease in 1997-99, it in effect suppressed global economic growth by
forcing the ECB and other central banks into a series of parallel rate
hikes designed to support the value of their currencies against the
dominant dollar. With joblessness rising and growth restrained around
the world, pressure mounted on the United States to expand its already
unsustainable current-account deficit, to the inevitable detriment of
many US households and businesses, particular in the manufacturing
sector but increasingly in the information and data-processing sectors
as well. The so-called New Economy died. The Fed, the ECB and most
other central banks have remained uniquely opaque entities. In fact,
the Fed takes pride in playing cat-and-mouse games with the market over
the prospect of its interest-rate policy and allows the financial
market to operate like a lottery, with the winner being the lucky one
who correctly guessed its interest-rate decisions. Most Asian central
banks follow reactively Fed policy and action.
Bill
Gross, manager director of Pimco, the largest bond-investment fund in
the United States, may not have a monopoly on truth, but he controls
vast investment power over the credit market and makes decisions based
on his views. He wrote recently that 13 percent of the US stock market,
35 percent of the US Treasury market, 23 percent of the US corporate
bond market, and 14 percent direct ownership in US companies are now in
the hands of non-US investors. And with the trade deficit at 6 percent
of GDP and the US need to attract nearly 80 percent of all the world's
ongoing savings just to keep the dollar at current levels, "an end to
the party is clearly in sight". Gross said that former Treasury
secretary Robert Rubin's policy of a strong dollar succeeded so
famously that US bonds and stocks now have lower yields and much higher
price-to-earnings ratios (P/Es) than most alternative markets. This
strong-dollar policy, implemented through the Fed under Alan Greenspan,
has painted the US into a corner from which either a falling dollar,
depreciating financial markets, or both are "nearly inevitable".
The
net foreign debt in the US economy is now 22 percent of GDP. Assuming
an economic recovery, the US economy is on a trajectory toward a debt
burden of 40 percent of GDP within five years, roughly the debt-to-GDP
ratio of Argentina in 2000. What keeps the US afloat is dollar
hegemony. The US cannot forever borrow in order to buy more from the
rest of the world than it sells. The interest burden will eventually be
so heavy that foreign investors will be unwilling or unable to keep
financing this rising debt. When that happens, the dollar will drop and
dollar interest rates will spike upward. The United States will then be
forced to run a trade surplus with a drastic devaluation of the dollar
and/or a draconian deflation in real incomes in order to reduce demand
for imports and make US goods cheap enough to run a surplus in world
markets. Yet this will directly shrink world trade, making it difficult
for the US to reduce its cumulated debt.
The
costs of balancing trade through deflation would be near fatal.
According to one calculation (Godley 1995), bringing a current-account
deficit of 2 percent GDP into balance would require a 10 percent drop
in GDP and a jump of 5 percent in the unemployment rate. With today's
trade deficit of 4 percent and rising, the required contraction in GDP
would be 20 percent or greater and an unemployment rate of an
additional 10 percent to the current 7 percent. Attempting to regain
balance through currency devaluation could be catastrophic.
Goldman-Sachs recently estimated that it would take a more than 40
percent drop in the dollar just to halve the US current-account
deficit. Getting to a trade balance will be even more difficult because
US manufacturing capacity may well have shrunk below the level needed
to eliminate the trade deficit through expanding exports. Given
relentless import competition, investors are reluctant to make
long-term capital available to small and medium manufacturing firms,
and some large ones as well. The grim outlook for manufacturing also
reduces the incentive for young people to invest in becoming skilled
manufacturing workers.
The
low savings rate in the United States also contributes to the
current-account problem but it is now a function of a deficiency in
private rather than public savings. This is a much harder problem to
solve. In fact, the US does not seem to know how to raise its private
savings rate without putting a damper on its relentless push on
expanding consumer finance. Under current conditions, increasing the
savings rate would reduce consumer demand, upon which the US economy
and the world depend.
Japan's
economic problem is rooted in the geopolitical shift resulting from the
end of the Cold War. The Japanese economy has outgrown its postwar role
as an export engine. With the end of the Cold War, Japan no longer
enjoys geopolitically induced special trade concessions from the United
States. The continuing trade surplus with the US is now contingent on
its being recycled into dollar assets. Not only will the continued
expansion of export to the US not be sustainable at a rate that will
help the doomed Japanese domestic economy, but even effective
stimulation of domestic consumption cannot solve the Japanese dilemma
because the domestic economy is too small to sustain the enormous and
growing overcapacity of its export engine. The Japanese economy cannot
be revived by domestic restructuring unless it is prepared to shrink
drastically to the size of the United Kingdom. No monetary or fiscal
measures can overcome this structural problem, which is the legacy of
policies of General Douglas MacArthur's occupation after World War II.
The Japanese problem is not a purely economic problem. It is a
political-economy problem. What Japan needs is to restructure its
international economic relationships away from its unnatural partner,
the United States, toward its natural partner, China, and to shift from
an export economy to a regional-developmental economy.
The
anchor of US policy in Asia is the United States' "special
relationship" to Japan. The intensity and bitterness of the historical
conflict between Japan and the US for their separate interests in Asia
have not been eliminated by the post-World War II facade of "special
relationship" or by the Mutual Defense Treaty. Before World War II,
Japan, not China, was seen by most US leaders as America's chief rival
in Asia. They squeezed Japan's access to vital raw materials,
particularly oil, and so obstructed Japan's plan of becoming a great
regional power through its conquest of a fragmented China weakened by a
century of Western imperialism. While the targets of Japanese expansion
in World War II were primarily the colonies of the British and French
empires, the sole exception being the Philippines, the objective made
it necessary for Japan to disable the US Pacific Fleet. The Pacific
theater against Japan in World War II was won mainly by US efforts,
unlike the European theater, where Britain and the Soviet Union also
played major roles. It was the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor that
forced Adolf Hitler to declare war on a formally neutral United States,
thus saving Britain from imminent defeat.
It was one of the two
strategic errors Germany made, the other being the invasion of the
Soviet Union. Without a two-front war that eventually destroyed the
German 6th Army on Russian soil in February 1943 and the relentless
Soviet counteroffensive afterward that tied up half of German military
assets, it would be doubtful whether the US landing in Normandy in 1944
would have been as successful as it was.
Britain,
in winning a Pyrrhic victory against Germany with US and Soviet help,
lost both empire and greatness. Together with Britain, supposedly the
winner, Japan and Germany, the vanquished, were thrown by World War II
into the arms of the United States as suppliants, in a subordination
masked by the euphemism of "special relationships". Postwar Germany,
divided into socialist East and capitalist West, benefited economically
from the Cold War by the need of the US to subsidize West Germany to
keep it safely in the Western camp. Outside of imposed anti-Sovietism
and anti-communism, West Germany enjoyed enviable autonomy from US
policy domination. Japan enjoyed much less autonomy than West Germany,
a fact many Japanese resented as US racism. Further, Germany had a real
historical phobia against a powerful Russia pushing westward, while
Japan had less real reason to fear China, or an Soviet Union that was
fundamentally Europe-oriented. Japan had already defeated Russia once.
After
the Japanese surrender, MacArthur at first aimed at restructuring
Japanese politics and economics to prevent a return to militarism. For
that purpose, MacArthur's occupation regime purged from Japanese
politics all wartime leaders, instituted land reform, and began
breaking down large corporate conglomerates (zaibatsu or keiretsu),
in favor of populist if not socialist forces. This strategy would begin
to change in the early months of 1948 with what would be labeled in
diplomatic history as "The Reverse Course".
As
fears of Soviet expansion grew in Washington, concerns also grew that
MacArthur's reform program was making Japan geopolitically unreliable,
ideologically unstable, economically weak, and geopolitically
vulnerable to subversive infiltration or, in the longer run, perhaps
even military invasion with Fifth Column help. As China liberated
itself by establishing a socialist state in 1949, MacArthur was ordered
to turn US occupation policy abruptly into a strategy of keeping Japan
from turning toward socialist paths. Since Japan was viewed as a
"strong point" by key US grand strategists George Kennan, George
Marshall, and Dean Acheson, a more politically regressive and
economically conservative program was put into place. It was a program
designed to stabilize the Japanese political economy and to set the
stage for revived limited Japanese military strength in the future that
would assist US efforts in countering international communism in Japan
and the rest of East Asia.
To
support this controlled military power, a US trade subsidy/preference
regime for Japan was instituted.
MacArthur, who had all but set himself
up as the new emperor of Japan and who had built a postwar popularity
within US domestic politics, criticizing the State Department for
shortcomings ranging from Eurocentrism to excessive meddling in the
Pacific to lack of political will to use nuclear weapons on China,
would argue not only against reversing the anti-zaibatsu
program, but also against strengthening the Japanese military from whom
he had suffered well-publicized defeat with deep personal
embarrassment. Ironically, it was left to the Supreme Military
Commander/Occupier to argue that economic growth and a stable political
order were the most important weapons in the struggle for containment
of the communist threat for Japan, not the creation of military might.
Nobody
doubted the general's argument about the importance of economic
strength and political stability, but many at the US Defense Department
and some even at the State Department subsequently insisted that they
wanted a major portion of the fruits of US supplied economic revival to
be channeled into Japanese military strengthening. In their minds,
Japan should accept a significant share of the burden of defending
itself and containing communism in the region. This position would win
the debate in Washington and would be presented to Japanese authorities
in 1950-51 by president Harry Truman's special envoy, John Foster
Dulles. In the 1950s, the administrations of Truman and Dwight D
Eisenhower both believed that open tolerance of Japanese resistance to
US imports, systematic undervaluation of the yen, and total reliance on
US military protection were necessary to strengthen Japan domestically
and legitimize it internationally as a solid anti-communist ally. After
persistent persuasion by premier Yoshida Shigeru, US leaders also
decided that pushing the Japanese government too soon and too hard to
build up its military significantly merely to reduce the US defense
burden could lead to a popular backlash in Japan that might threaten
the budding alliance and, by association, the maintenance of US
military bases in Japan.
Japan,
a recent and very bitter enemy, was clearly not sharing much of the
cost burden of the anti-communist alliance early in the Cold War. In
fact, it worked to benefit economically from it. The kernel of this
dilemma is still alive in the developing relationship of new US-Japan
relationship under the current administration of President George W
Bush. While the Bush Team claims a continuation of the strong-dollar
policy, there is much open talk of coordinated government intervention
against a yen devaluation beyond 120 to the dollar. Concerned about the
acceptance of the US-Japan alliance in domestic US politics, US leaders
decided they must maintain US dominance of the political alliance in
exchange for generous US aid, trade, and military protection policies
Washington had already granted to Tokyo. As the sole economic power
that had directly profited from World War II, the United States had the
resources and the confidence to buy Japanese support with economic
carrots. In particular, Yoshida would be pushed to accept Washington's
pro-Kuomintang (KMT, or Nationalist) and tough anti-communist China
policies. US elites worried that if Yoshida diverged too strongly from
the anti-communist strategies being advocated by the United States,
Congress and the public would demand a fundamental reconsideration of
the already controversial one-way economic relationship. The same
argument was presented to other national leaders around the world as a
reason for them to shun independent national-policy lines toward the
communist world. The geopolitical foundation of the Marshall Plan was
obvious, but the US domestic-politics argument was the classic mantra.
Yet
the cost for Japan of compliance with US geopolitical leadership
demands was very high because the United States had adopted such a
tough policy toward China, with which Japan would have preferred to
have closer economic and diplomatic ties than intransigent US policy
would allow. This problem exists even today, albeit under different
geopolitical conditions. The Truman administration's need to guarantee
domestic consensus for its domestically controversial early-Cold War
grand strategy often compelled it to abandon its privately preferred
economic and diplomatic strategies toward China. In 1949-50, the US
refused to abandon KMT leader Chiang Kai-shek and recognize the new
People's Republic of China (PRC), despite Truman's personal disdain for
Chiang and KMT corruption and Madam Chiang's deft manipulation of the
Republican right wing and the anti-communist Christian fundamentalists
in US domestic politics.
At
the outbreak of the Korean War, the Truman administration reversed
earlier statements of neutrality regarding the Chinese Civil War and
sent the 7th Fleet to protect KMT-controlled Taiwan from potential
forceful unification with the communist mainland. This locked the
United States into an exclusive diplomatic relationship with Chiang's
regime until 1973, and the 7th Fleet continues to be active in the
Taiwan Strait today. The Taiwan issue remains the main obstacle to
normal US-China relations. After the late-1950 escalation of the Korean
War, a desperate Truman administration applied a total embargo on
China, and policies more hostile than those applied to the Soviet Union
(this imbalance in the Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export
Controls - CoCom - regime would come to be known as the "China
Differential").
Many
of the US diplomatic and trade policies around the world, particularly
in Asia, were often viewed by top presidential advisors as ineffective
or even counterproductive on geopolitical grounds, but politically
unavoidable on domestic grounds, particularly after the outbreak and
escalation of the Korean War from June-November 1950.
To
understand the sacrifice Tokyo had to make in order to grant the United
States a firm leadership role on the budding US-Japan alliance's China
policy, it is critical to note just how important the Chinese economy
had been to Japan in modern history. It was the search for a preferred
integrated economic relationship with China that fueled Japanese
aggression on the mainland in the 1930s. Japanese leadership was
actually obsessed first and foremost with the threat from the Soviet
Union and the lessons of World War I about the need for an autarkic
economy to provide staying power in war. The quest for Japanese autarky
on the Asian mainland helped drive Japan deeper and deeper into a
quagmire in China and, eventually, into war with the United States over
oil supply. In the 1920s and for most of the 1930s, China (including
Manchuria) was by far Japan's biggest export market and import provider
in the region. Japanese exploitation of Chinese resources financed the
Japanese military machine for World War II. In 1949, Yoshida and other
members of the Japanese elite saw real economic and political benefits
in establishing relations with the new communist regime in Beijing.
Postwar Japan wanted to appear sympathetic to the new Asian
post-colonial nationalist movements, a theme of the wartime
Co-prosperity Ring.
The
problem was not that PRC-Japan trade was viewed as against US or
Japanese national interests, but that it was unacceptable to US
domestic politics. In February and March 1949, six months before the
founding of the People's Republic, the US National Security Council
produced NSC 41, a report on China trade policy. The document reflected
a cautious faith in the possibility of Chinese Titoism and the
usefulness of US trade with areas held by the Chinese Communist Party
as a way to reduce the CCP's dependence on Moscow. The sections on
Sino-Japan trade were, in a sense, more practical, emphasizing the goal
of reducing the US burden of rebuilding Japan as well as gaining some
degree of political leverage over China through trade dependence with
Japan. The State Department was hardly indifferent to the concerns
raised by opponents to Sino-Japanese trade, so NSC 41 and other
directives advised MacArthur to encourage trade on a quid pro quo basis
and to try to find alternative markets and raw-material sources
elsewhere in Asia to reduce Japanese dependence on China for critical
materials. The need for such alternative markets for Japan was one of
the arguments Washington used on Japan to secure its support for
keeping Southeast Asia out of communist hands early in the Cold War.
This constituted another "Reverse Course", in which the United States
went from a critic to a supporter of European imperialism in British
Malaya and Indochina.
Despite
US restrictions, Japanese trade with mainland China grew tenfold from
1947-50. The Korean War and the US-led embargoes against China halted
this trend. Another problem facing the United States in its calculation
about US-China and US-Japan trade was that, for economic and political
reasons, Britain was unwilling to apply the strict export-control
measures toward China that Washington demanded, fearing the damage such
measures would do to British Hong Kong. In November 1949, top US
officials recognized that if Western Europe traded relatively normally
with China while the United States and Japan embargoed it, this would
only serve to increase the expense of the US relationship with Japan
without any real costs being raised to the Chinese economy. Although
the Truman administration would continue to try to prevent China from
getting strategically important materials (1A and 1B items on the CoCom
list), it seemed resigned to allow PRC trade with the US and Japan on a
"cash basis". The logical standard was that the same criteria should be
applied to China that were being applied to the Soviet Union and
Eastern Europe. In the first half of 1950, the picture became more
mixed as relations with Beijing worsened after the January seizure of
US consular property and the February signing of the Sino-Soviet
defense treaty. The United States wanted to find a balance between, on
the one hand, reducing the burden on the Japanese economy (and,
indirectly, on the United States) by allowing trade between Japan and
the PRC, and, on the other, reducing Japanese dependence on China,
which could provide China with political leverage over Tokyo and
threaten US dominance.
The
Truman administration pushed this argument particularly hard on other
non-communist partners in East Asia, which had been reluctant to open
up their economies to their former Japanese occupiers. The
administration argued that increasing their trade with Japan was a
necessary role for these allies since Japan's natural market in China
had fallen to the communists. The Korean War would radically alter this
picture, with the US leveling the "China Differential" in CoCom. It was
clear that domestic politics, rather than the "high politics" of
strategy, was driving US trade policy toward China, as was true with
the US attitude toward Chinese accession to the World Trade
Organization five decades later. This all but destroyed Sino-Japanese
trade, as some 400 items were put on the list of prohibited products.
Over the next several years, important elites, including president
Eisenhower himself, recognized the illogic of the China Differential
and a strict Japanese embargo on China. But significant relaxation of
China-Japan trade restrictions would remain in place until well after
the end of the Korean War.
Throughout
1951, John Foster Dulles, Truman's envoy to Japan for negotiations on
the Japanese Peace Treaty, would apply the same logic with Yoshida
Shigeru. Dulles made various arguments why Japan should reject Beijing
as a diplomatic partner, continue recognizing Chiang Kai-shek's regime
on Taiwan as the sole legitimate government of all of China, and sign a
peace treaty with Chiang's Republic of China rather than the PRC.
Dulles also sought Yoshida's general compliance with US limits on trade
contacts with the PRC.
Like
most Japanese elites since MacArthur, Yoshida was anti-communist. But
as a practical matter, Japan wanted diplomatic ties with Beijing and
much more extensive trade relations than Dulles's preferred scenario
would allow. Yoshida bluntly put it: "I don't care whether China is red
or green. China is a natural market, and it has become necessary for
Japan to think about markets."
In
his effort to persuade Japanese leaders, Dulles' trump card was not a
geostrategic argument but a domestic political one. He emphasized that
if Japan did not comply with US general Cold War strategy, the military
protection of Japan by US forces would become more controversial
domestically, as would economic aid and Japan's preferential trade and
financial arrangements. It was this domestic political argument, above
all others, that convinced the reluctant Japanese that questioning the
US leadership role in the Cold War in Asia could carry devastating
results for the maverick nation's security and economic interests.
Dulles would return to this tried-and-true bargaining tactic again as
president Eisenhower's Secretary of State in order to prevent Japan
from establishing politically significant trade offices in China. The
result of Japan's acquiescence to US demands, the December 1951 Yoshida
Letter and subsequent bilateral Peace Treaty negotiations with Taipei
in 1952, locked Japan into a pro-Taiwan, anti-Beijing diplomatic
posture for the next 21 years. With Japanese acquiescence to America's
harsh economic sanctions regime against China, the small-scale but
promising trade between Japan and the PRC allowed by the US in 1949-50
practically disappeared.
Politicians
are probably held in as low esteem in Japan today as in the United
States. For an Asian culture, that is a serious development.
Unfortunately, the bureaucracy, which basically sets policy for Japan,
is also not trusted because of the present anemic state of the economy
and US media scapegoating. After a whole decade of slow growth, the
streets of Tokyo still do not look like those of a poor economy,
because the Japanese government has been effectively insulating the
Japanese public from the real pain. The US had a cozy relationship with
the Liberal Democratic Party but had a contentious relationship over
trade. Today, young people in Japan are more openly nationalistic than
the subdued older generation. It will be increasingly more difficult
for the United States to work with Japan as time passes.
For
many years, Japan has counted on its economic strength to provide its
regional and global influence. There was one magic moment when the yen
was 79 to a US dollar and the Japanese economy on a currency basis was
larger than the US economy and Herman Khan was predicting the Japanese
Century. The psychological shock in shifting from a position of a
rising economic powerhouse to a situation where the world is
criticizing Japan's economy has sapped Japan's self-confidence. Market
capitalization of Japanese equity fell from 50 percent of global value
to just 10 percent, even as the US lost 60 percent of its peak market
capitalization. The economic difficulties Japan is experiencing are not
a banking problem, as US neo-liberal economists keep saying. The
central bank, though newly created, has become part of the problem. But
the central problem involves a much broader system of a dual economy of
successful transnational companies built on subsidiaries and networks
of other small companies that are operating along unique Japanese
relationships.
The
Finance Ministry, trying to help consumers by dropping the discount
rate to 0 percent, failed to help consumers but decimated the insurance
industry because it offered a guaranteed rate of return on its pension
plans that are now much higher than current returns on investment. The
industry could not find any place to put the money to provide the
return it had guaranteed. Large insurance companies went broke and the
people counting on them for their pensions no longer had pensions. As a
result, people started not renewing their policies.
Japan
is becoming an older society faster than any society in the world. But
it has a large savings base, about $10 trillion, which amounts to about
a per capita amount of $80,000, enough to cover per capita debt in the
United States at its height. But 60 percent of that money is held by
people over 65 who are not robust consumers. How does one motivate such
an economy? The world has never seen a country with a population this
old.
The
world consensus is pushing Japan into a quick solution so as to avoid
an even more traumatic Asian financial crisis. The concern in Tokyo is
that, if Japan did "fix" the economy in a hurry, it might cause more
trouble than would a gradual approach. The US has told Japan to lead.
The first solution Japan came up with when the Asian economy started to
collapse was a $100 billion security fund to help Asian economies,
which the US rejected. Economic growth has been flat since the
real-estate and stock bubble burst in 1990, except for 1996, when real
GDP growth was 3.6 percent due to a large fiscal stimulus and low
interest rates. Japan remains a massive net exporter of goods to the
rest of the world as its economy sinks. It has emerged as a model for
other Asian economies to avoid, rather than copy.
Japan,
as an Asian culture, places importance on the national economy and
operates as if individuals and companies can only prosper if the
national economy prospers. The US economy operates as a "natural"
calculus of individual survival. To Americans and American
corporations, a national economic boom has no meaning unless the
individual unit first benefits. As markets globalize, this creates
problems for management in both cultural regimes. For Japan, bailouts
are normal, while in the US bailouts, though they occur, are exercised
with apologies. When in trouble, the US economy historically sacrifices
quickly the weak and the small, while the Japanese economy punishes the
strong and big gradually.
When
the long-overdue US recession hits, Americans will see their faith in
market free enterprise shaken as the Japanese have been losing their
faith in their command economy, despite the fact that the government
has been reasonably effective in insulating the Japanese public from
economic pain. The Campaign 2000 rhetoric in the United States was
already slightly populist and the recession has yet to begin. The
recent Bush tax plan was couched in heavy populist rhetoric. The
problem is that around the world there are visible signs of exhaustion.
Asia and Latin America are completely worn out after six years of
tumult. The US boom was fed mostly by global deflation, and there have
not been free lunches even in the US. Even those who are still doing
well have to work 14-hour days and most families need to be two-income
households to make do. The press has stop running stories about people
with $60,000 annual incomes living in their cars in Silicon Valley
because it is no longer news. At this rate, unemployment may even come
as a relief and a guiltless way to get off the treadmill.
There
was a moment in the late 1960s, before the Vietnam War blew away all of
America's surpluses, that people with good incomes were beginning to
take three-day weekends on a regular year-around basis and eight-week
vacations. From Los Angeles to Dallas to Scarsdale, fathers were home
by 5:30pm barbecuing for the whole family and mothers had time for
their children, and the GDP was a mere $200 billion. Economists thought
then that if the GDP reached $1 trillion, all economic problems would
be solved. Instead, the GDP is now more than $10 trillion, and there is
financial crisis everywhere - from health care to social security to
education, even defense. There appears to be a problem with what growth
really is.
Next: The Asian Experience
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