Orwellian language

It has been one of my life’s missions to try to communicate economics clearly, by writing accessible books. George Orwell’s Politics and the English Language was an early influence on my writing. This wonderful essay is also available as a [amazon_link id=”0141393068″ target=”_blank” ]Penguin pamphlet[/amazon_link].

[amazon_image id=”0141393068″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Politics and the English Language[/amazon_image]

Every writer, especially one “translating” jargon-based work like economics into English should follow his rules:

i. Never use a metaphor, simile or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.

ii. Never use a long word where a short one will do.

iii. If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.

iv. Never use the passive where you can use the active.

v. Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.

vi. Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.

I wholeheartedly agree as well with the claim in this essay that: “[The English language] becomes ugly and inaccurate because our thoughts are foolish, but the slovenliness of our language makes it easier for us to have foolish thoughts.” I’m always highly suspicious of books written so impenetrably that they’re hard to understand, including academic books.

Anyway, if you happen not to have read the essay, do – bearing in mind the irony that (because of [amazon_link id=”014118776X” target=”_blank” ]1984[/amazon_link]) ‘Orwellian’ has come to mean the opposite of the kind of writing Orwell champions here.

[amazon_image id=”0141393041″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Nineteen Eighty-Four[/amazon_image]

Update: I just found this Steve Poole column describing the Orwell essay as ‘wildly over-rated’. He underestimates how hard it is to follow the rules above, even if following them slavishly might be too extreme. Have a go yourself….

Those Imperial dudes

I couldn’t resist another description of one of the first British parties to explore Everest in 1922, from the brilliant [amazon_link id=”0099563835″ target=”_blank” ]Into The Silence[/amazon_link] by Wade Davis. This time it’s Lieutenant F.M.Bailey:

“A brilliant naturalist, he discovered scores of new species, including the legendary Himalayan blue poppy that bears his name. He once saved his own life by using a butterfly net to self-arrest and thus escape a snow slide as it grew into an avalanche. Seriously wounded three times during the war, in France and at Gallipoli, he became a British spy, a master of a dozen disguises, traveling as a Buddhist priest, an Austrian soldier, and an Armenian prisoner of war, and causing the Bolsheviks in Tashkent and Samarkand such grief that he would live with a Soviet bounty on his head for the rest of his days.”

The intrepid explorer and spy later wrote some books himself including [amazon_link id=”0192803875″ target=”_blank” ]Mission to Tashkent[/amazon_link]. All of the characters on the early Everest missions are extraordinary.

[amazon_image id=”0099563835″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest[/amazon_image]

[amazon_image id=”0192803875″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Mission to Tashkent[/amazon_image]

Davos reading

Once, I went to Davos. Like Lewis Lapham, I didn’t have to pay as I was then a “prospective supplier of supportive adjectives” ie. a journalist. For those who haven’t read it, whether Davos attendees, wannabees, or refusniks, Lapham’s 1998 book [amazon_link id=”1859847102″ target=”_blank” ]The Agony Of Mammon: The Imperial Global Economy Explains itself to the Membership in Davos[/amazon_link] is an instructive perspective on the phenomenon. I like the Walter Bagehot quotation he opens with: “Poverty is an anomaly to rich people. It is very difficult to make out why people who want dinner do not ring the bell.”

[amazon_image id=”1859847102″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Agony of Mammon: The Imperial Global Economy Explains Itself to the Membership in Davos, Switzerland[/amazon_image]

I’d certainly never pay to go back to the WEF-fest up the mountain, and have never since been offered the zero-price option. Perhaps I’d be vain enough to accept such an offer, but I hope not. There is something highly corrupting about it – more so, despite the interesting comparison John Gapper draws in today’s FT (Davos: Infotainment, Not A Conspiracy) – than is the case with other elite ‘clubs’ such as TED. I think it’s simply the sheer amount of money required to get there and concentrated there. Enough money to reflect real power.

Best sentence in a book ever?

Wade Davis has an enviable job title, although one that is a bit of a contradiction in terms – an Explorer in Residence at the National Geographical Society. He has written a wonderful book: [amazon_link id=”0099563835″ target=”_blank” ]Into the Silence: The Great War, Mallory, and the Conquest of Everest[/amazon_link].

[amazon_image id=”0099563835″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Into The Silence: The Great War, Mallory and the Conquest of Everest[/amazon_image]

I’m half way through it. But already I’ve come across a sentence that is a candidate to be one of the best ever. It is in a paragraph about Eddie Marsh, the private secretary to Winston Churchill, who became friends with the pioneering mountaineer George Mallory. It captures both the man and the times, the confident heyday of the British Empire on the eve of World War I, run by perfect Edwardian gentlemen:

“Fourteen years older than Mallory, Marsh had traveled on foot to the source of the Nile and had once stood down a charging rhinoceros by intrepidly opening a pink umbrella in its face. But he was better known as a patron of poetry.”

This is one to read in preparation for the 1914 anniversary, along with Paul Fussell’s classic [amazon_link id=”0195133323″ target=”_blank” ]The Great War and Modern Memory[/amazon_link]. Davis writes with brilliance about the horrors of war.

[amazon_image id=”0195133323″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Great War and Modern Memory[/amazon_image]

Bankers, exposed

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed reading [amazon_link id=”0691156840″ target=”_blank” ]The Bankers’ New Clothes: What’s Wrong with Banking and What to do About It[/amazon_link] by Anat Admati and Martin Hellwig. The title refers to the fairy tale about the naked emperor whom his citizens believe to be clothed in splendid robes until one child, immune from the groupthink, points out his nudity. This book’s aim, decisively achieved, is to de-mistify the public conversation about banking so we can all understand how threadbare the industry is.

The first part of the book gives a careful explanation of leverage and the role of bank equity. While the examples seem simplistic to start with, it is a useful stepping stone to evaluating the current regulatory debate about banks’ equity ratios. The logic is straightforward: the higher banks’ equity, the less destabilising is the effect of leverage, and the less the scope for contagion between banks in a crisis. The authors explain why in 2008 contagion spread so quickly around the financial system, with the arrival of money market funds and increased globalisation also playing a role. They also argue that bankers became complacent because they believed their own quantitative risk models, foolishly.

Importantly, the book also convincingly debunks the banks’ argument that there is no need for them to increase the amount of equity they hold. As Admati and Hellwig note, we suffer from a lack of clarity of thought about this subject. They describe statements made by the industry – with examples – as “nonsensical and false”. Bankers misuse the word ‘capital’ or ‘equity’ to confuse us, the book says. Bank lobbyists say equity is expensive, and increasing the amount they need to hold will therefore reduce the amount they can lend, or raise the cost of lending. They obfuscate the fact that higher equity requirements are equivalent to a limit on the proportion of a bank’s funding that can come from borrowing or leverage. Excess leverage was precisely the reason for the gravity of the financial crisis.

“The confusion about the term bank capital is pervasive… This confusion is insidious because it biases the debate, suggesting costs and trade-offs that do not actually exist….Viable banks can increase their reliance on unborrowed funds without any reduction in lending.”

It is only non-viable banks that would be constrained in their activity.

Their return on equity in fact depends on the risks the banks are taking – as we have seen, low equity ratios pre-crisis did not result in high returns on equity. The return on equity isn’t fixed, and doesn’t have a simple inverse relationship with the amount of equity held. The ROE will depend on the debt-equity mix, among other things.

Suppose, anyway, that the cost of making loans, and therefore interest rates paid by borrowers, were to increase if banks had to hold more equity. That would be a good thing if the rates paid reflected the risks incurred more accurately. It is pretty clear that risk was under-priced before the crisis, and people borrowed too much compared to the likelihood they could repay the loan. A number of very senior bankers acknowledged as much in a conference I attended at the end of last week.

What’s more, why should banks be different from other businesses? Apple has no debt, but its 100% equity ratio does not appear to have harmed its returns. When one would consider, say, 30% equity low for another kind of business, why on earth do we accept that 3% is the ballpark for banks? Should banks not hold higher levels of equity than the rest of the business sector, to reflect the socialisation of the risks they take, and the subsidies they receive via deposit guarantees?

The middle section of the book walks through the arguments for significantly higher bank equity ratios. The final section then turns to the politics of bank regulation. As the authors note, there is a chasm between talk and action, in every country. One reason bank lobbying succeeds is that politicians believe they need to back their own nation’s banks – or at least not disadvantage them – in global competition. Thus, although French politicians talk tough about banking and financial markets, they have been least supportive of moves to tighten bank regulation including equity ratios. Yet when banks succeed in the race for global market share, it is because they are being subsidised by their taxpayers and imposing large risks on them. This is the tyranny of the idea of a ‘level playing field’.

Some regulators understand this. The Bank of England’s Andrew Haldane has argued for higher equity ratios, among other requirements – albeit in the context of a discussion of 4% rather than 3% of the total balance sheet, so still pitifully low in the eyes of The Bankers’ New Clothes. He also persuasively argues that banks should focus on return on their assets (ie. how good a job do they do of lending money for productive activities that pay a good return?) rather than the current industry obsession with return on equity. David Miles of the Monetary Policy Committee has been stronger still. In a recent column on the case for higher equity he said:

“What are the people that run banks really saying if they argue that it is very costly – even unfeasible – to use more equity funding? One interpretation is that this argument is an admission that they cannot run a private enterprise in a way which makes people willing to provide finance whose returns share in the downside and the upside. In other words, they are not able to convince people who will face the full consequences of their commercial decisions to provide funding. It is as if banks cannot play by the same rules as other enterprises in a capitalist economy – after all, capitalists are supposed to use capital. You might expect that if this is the assessment of many people who currently run banks, then they would not wish to proclaim it so loudly.”

So at least some regulators recognise the issue. The problem is translating the conclusion into the arena of political negotiations in international fora, and the obsession with not disadvantaging ‘our’ banks. Politicians have not grasped that such support for ‘our’ banks comes at the cost of the welfare of ‘our’ citizens. I’d make The Bankers’ New Clothes required reading so that policy makers and regulators really appreciate why it is so perverse that the riskiest enterprises in modern capitalist economies are the ones with the least capital. The debate needs to be reset, away from the terms in which bankers talk about regulation, mystifying the rest of us.

As the authors conclude:

“We can have a financial system that works much better for the economy than the current system – without sacrificing anything. But achieving this requires that politicians and regulators focus on the public interest and carry out the necessary steps. The critical ingredient – still missing – is political will.”

[amazon_image id=”0691156840″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Bankers’ New Clothes: What’s Wrong with Banking and What to Do about It[/amazon_image]