It’s the housing market, stupid

Thanks to @PeterBoettke on Twitter, I found these articles by Vernon Smith (an economics Nobel winner) and Steven Gjerstad arguing that the housing market has had a central role in the 2000s bubble and subsequent crash, because of its importance to household and lenders’ balance sheets. The first article (of 3) suggests that the Taxpayer Relief Act of 1997, which exempted homes from the capital gains tax up to $500,000, might have helped to trigger the bubble in house prices that ran from then up to 2006. The authors suggest:

Proposition 1. Severe economic recessions have their origin in joint household and bank balance sheet crises.

Proposition 2. The Great Recession is an example of a housing boom-and-bust that devastated the economy – as is (Proposition 3) the 1930s Depression.

Proposition 4. Monetary policy is ineffective in a balance-sheet crisis and so is government deficit spending for the same reason (which is that both operate on income flows at a time when households are repairing balance sheets).

Part 3 is still to come, but the articles are based on a recent book (which I’ve not read), [amazon_link id=”0521198097″ target=”_blank” ]Rethinking Housing Bubbles: The Role of Household and Bank Balance Sheets in Modelling Economic Cycles[/amazon_link].

[amazon_image id=”0521198097″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Rethinking Housing Bubbles: The Role of Household and Bank Balance Sheets in Modeling Economic Cycles[/amazon_image]

This struck a chord for two reasons. One is that Kate Barker’s new book in the Perspectives series, [amazon_link id=”1907994114″ target=”_blank” ]Housing: Where’s The Plan[/amazon_link], also emphasises the way the housing market drives the economic cycle, and has as one of its central recommendations capital gains tax on primary dwellings. She, of course, was a long-serving member of the Bank of England’s Monetary Policy Committee and also authored two landmark reports on planning and the housing market for the Treasury.

The other reason has been my growing conviction (over the last two books, [amazon_link id=”0691156298″ target=”_blank” ]The Economics of Enough[/amazon_link] and [amazon_link id=”0691156794″ target=”_blank” ]GDP[/amazon_link]) that economists and policymakers have paid far, far too little attention to assets in general. But perhaps people in general have become a bit less short-sighted? It would help explain the growing disillusion with politics by the next day’s or hour’s headlines.

[amazon_image id=”1907994114″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Housing: Where’s the Plan? (Perspectives)[/amazon_image]

The crisis of inaction

[amazon_link id=”0199973636″ target=”_blank” ]The Status Quo Crisis: Global Governance After the 2008 Meltdown,[/amazon_link] by Eric Helleiner.
A guest review by Bill Allen
[amazon_image id=”0199973636″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Status Quo Crisis: Global Financial Governance After the 2008 Meltdown[/amazon_image]

 The crisis in Eric Helleiner’s title is not something that has happened, but something that hasn’t happened. The aftermath of a real crisis – something that has happened – can provide the opportunity for institutional change. Helleiner’s choice of title reflects his observation that there has been very little effective change in the panoply of international financial institutions since the financial crisis of 2007 – 08. Specifically, he claims that the G20 has achieved very little, that financial regulation has remained undesirably ‘market-friendly’, and that no effective international organisation for financial regulation has been set up.

 Helleiner is quite right about the G20, whose main boast – agreement on a doubling of IMF quotas – has not been ratified by the United States Congress. He could have gone a lot further. International institutions generally were not much use in the crisis. The IMF lent very little in 2008. The Chiang Mai Initiative, which had been set up in the late 1990s as a source of mutual liquidity support in East Asia, was not used at all in 2007 – 08. There is a reason for this. International financial institutions, despite having extremely talented staff and managers, are inherently slow in reacting to fast-moving situations and lack the ability to improvise. This reflects their governance structures, and the caution that democratically-accountable governments display when faced with any new invitation to put up money. Fear of moral hazard always trumps recognition of a new urgent need. There is no getting over this problem, and it will be a considerable surprise if the recently-announced BRICS financing facility turns out not to be purely ornamental.

Just as well, then, that the Federal Reserve was unilaterally ready, able and willing to provide emergency dollar liquidity in short order and in massive amounts when it was most needed in the autumn of 2008. Chairman Bernanke received democracy’s traditional reward for doing the right thing when he was attacked for lending money to foreigners by Congressmen who either could not or would not understand that the Fed’s actions were in the interests of the United States as well as those of other countries, and that the Fed had prevented what is now known as the Great Recession from turning into a repetition of the Great Depression.

Where does this leave the international monetary system? Helleiner notes that China is in favour of a system based more heavily on Special Drawing Rights, and bemoans the failure to create more SDRs. But getting agreement to increase the SDR issue is always going to be slow and difficult, no matter how urgent the need. And in any case, an SDR is merely a right bestowed on an IMF member country to get some real money (dollars, probably, or possibly euros) from another member country which is willing to take SDRs in exchange. As Richhild Moessner and I have shown, the expansion of the SDR issue runs the risk of undermining the liquidity of the IMF itself. The key issue is what counts as real money and who controls the supply of it.

Past experience shows that it is desirable for the international monetary system to be capable of expanding international liquidity quickly in a crisis. That means that international reserve currencies have to be managed by single countries, which are sufficiently enlightened to understand that what is in the global interest may also be in their national interest. On this criterion, the dollar is the only plausible reserve currency at present and in the foreseeable future. The euro and its managers have structural problems – no single government,constipated decision making, and a penchant for looking inwards rather than outwards: the European Central Bank was dangerously slow in extending swap lines when they were needed in 2008 – 09, and bizarrely confined its swap lines to EU member countries. The renminbi, often suggested as a possible challenger to the dollar, has the crippling handicap that there is no separation in China between the government and the judiciary. No responsible reserve manager could rely on the RMB as a large-scale repository of liquid assets. Helleiner also claims that Russia was ‘strongly committed to goal of ruble internationalization’ after the crisis (p 85), but if so, Russia did nothing about it, and incomprehensibly passed up the opportunity to win influence among former Soviet Union countries by offering dollar swaps from its large reserves during the crisis.

Unfortunately the outlook for the dollar as a reserve currency is not assured, despite the Fed’s masterly crisis management of 2008. There is the perennial problem of the budget deficit, and the new threat that the Congress will force the U.S. Treasury to default by refusing to increase the Federal debt limit. Without the dollar, the international monetary system would be thrown into chaos, and an undesired return to gold would be on the cards.

What of financial regulation? Helleiner wishes that financial regulation had become less ‘market-friendly’, but he seriously underestimates the amount of new bank regulation that has been introduced and does not seem to understand its effects. For one thing, he says virtually nothing about liquidity regulation, which has been introduced into the Basel regulatory apparatus. In practice, in the UK at least, liquidity regulation has forced banks to buyenormous amounts of government securities, and to curtail lending to private borrowers. It has subsidised government borrowing and taxed private borrowing, and arguably prolonged the recession unnecessarily.

More generally, Helleiner misses what I think is the key issue in bank regulation, namely theproblem of banks that are too big to fail. They were too big to fail in 2008 and they are still too big to fail. This fact has profound implications. Too-big-to-fail imposes contingent liabilities on governments. Naturally the governments want to minimise the liability; hence official regulation of finance. As Helleiner points out, regulators cannot always be expected to co-operate with their foreign counterparts. All of them are servants of their own states, and are obliged to act in the interests of their own state and in accordance with its laws. If those interests and laws don’t conflict with those of other states, then fine; if not, not. So governments want to ensure that their contingent risk is monitored by people they control: international co-operation is limited in scope. All this explains increased capital requirements, the introduction of maximum bank leverage ratios, and the new-found aversion to foreign bank branches and pressure for subsidiarisation of international banks, country by country.

If it could be arranged that financial companies were not too big to fail, then most official financial regulation would be unnecessary; private incentives would be better aligned with social welfare and corporate governance, lamentably feeble in many cases before the recent crisis, could be expected to be more effective. It is impossible to contemplate all parts of the financial landscape being arranged in such a way: for example, the clearing houses through which financial companies are now required to settle derivative and other transactions are inevitably going to be too big to fail. But is possible to contemplate a less concentrated banking and securities-dealing industry, both in the retail and wholesale fields. Paradoxically, heavier and more intrusive regulation protects big companies, because potential competitors cannot bear the heavy fixed costs that it imposes. We have got stuck in a concentratedfinancial system/heavy regulation world, but a dispersed financial system/lighter regulation world would be much better.

 Helleiner is concerned that the banking industry has too much lobbying power, and asserts that reforms have been watered down in consequence. He provides no evidence, merely referring to similar claims by others. He complains that ‘the G20 made little effort to develop international standards that might tackle the issue of the potential “capture” of regulatory process by private financial actors’ (p 126). The United States addressed this issue in 1991when ‘Prompt Corrective Action’ was enacted, removing regulators’ discretion in managing failing banks, but that did not prevent the recent crisis. How serious is the issue of regulatory capture now? In the years before the crisis, bankers, regulators and governments shared many of the same illusions about the durability of the boom. Bankers were respected, consulted, and knighted. Financial companies had a lot of lobbying power, since they paid a disproportionately large share of taxes, in Britain at least – tax receipts that were sorely missed when the financial companies stopped making profits. But now, in many countries, the main issue between banks and governments is the ‘deadly embrace’ in which governments depend on banks to finance their deficits while banks depend on governments to guarantee their deposits. The situation in those countries is a lot more complicated than Helleiner suggests. And, as already noted, some of the post-crisis regulation that has been imposed has, predictably, had unintended bad consequences; perhaps it would have been wise to pay a little more attention to the lobbying of the banking industry.

Helleiner laments the ‘soft law’ character of international regulatory institutions like the Basel Committee on Banking Supervision and the Financial Stability Board. He would prefer them to have powers like those of the World Trade Organisation, which has rules and settlesdisputes between its member countries. But such an arrangement in the field of financial regulation might not be conducive to financial stability. There are signs that these bodies have become fora in which the main issue at stake is not financial stability but the financial and political interests of national governments. How else can the absurdly generous treatment of government securities for both capital and liquidity purposes be explained, and the extremely lenient treatment of mortgages for the purpose of the Net Stable Funding Ratio? Arguably, the world would be a better place if Basel 1, 2 and 3 had never been invented, because it would have been clear to bankers that it was their responsibility to judge the adequacy of their capital, and not something that could be assessed formulaically by reference to a set of complicated rules arrived at as a compromise among national negotiators in Switzerland. The truth is that nobody has yet worked out how to do bank regulation properly, and it would not be a good idea to entrench present-day customs and practices in an international treaty.

‘More regulation’ may be a good slogan but there isn’t much substance behind it. Helleiner denies this, claiming that there are a lot of new ideas in ‘the new macroprudential regulatory philosophy’, which, he says, provide a ‘broad intellectual justification for many…regulatory initiatives…such as counter-cyclical buffers, tighter controls on liquidity and SIFIs, the extension of public oversight to new sectors, transaction taxes, and support for capital controls’ (p 127). Broad, indeed. By these standards, ‘the new macroprudential regulatory philosophy’ could provide intellectual justification for just about anything. Regulation of this kind would be like doing brain surgery with a penknife.

Many of the issues arising from the crisis are unresolved and contentious. Helleiner addresses a great many of them. He has a point of view, with which readers may agree or disagree, but he is well informed and his book is a serious contribution to the continuing discussion. It is well worth reading.

 Bill Allen is a former Bank of England director and is on the sdvisory board of the Cass Business School

What have we learned since the crisis?

I’ve been looking at some of the essays in [amazon_link id=”0262027348″ target=”_blank” ]What Have We Learned: Macroeconomic Policy After the Crisis[/amazon_link]. It’s edited by a chandelier of luminaries – George Akerlof, Olivier Blanchard, David Romer and Joseph Stiglitz. The contributors are equally distinguished, including Janet Yellen, Mervyn King, Stan Fischer, Andy Haldane, Helene Rey, Jean Tirole…. and more. The essays I’ve read – and my focus has been the ones about implications for macroeconomics itself rather than specific areas of macro policy – are very interesting.

Collectively, this book adds up to an acceptance by about the most impressive cast list of macroeconomists you can imagine, that actually macro does need a lot of rethinking. Blanchard writes: “The contours of future macroeconomic policy remain vague.” Structures of policy and thinking about the relations between monetary, fiscal and macroprudential policy, is still evolving. Stiglitz, more pugnacious as one might expect, writes: “Market economies on their own are not necessarily efficient, stable, self-correcting.” George Akerlof is kinder on the profession – he says that while macroeconomists failed to predict the crisis, there has been successful post-crisis management with “good economics and common sense.” But David Romer worries that macroeconomists are not in a position to prevent another crisis: “The relatively modest changes of the types discussed [in the book] – and that policymakers are putting into place in some cases – are helpful but unlikely to be enough to prevent future financial shocks from inflicting large economic harms.” He says the academic and policy communities have not given enough serious consideration to deeper ideas and reforms.

I’m on the Romer and Stiglitz side of the debate. Still, even if you’re at the radical end, the other essays, ranging over fiscal policy, financial regulation, exchange rate arrangements, capital account issues and monetary and macroprudential policy, look very interesting. Some chapters seem standout – for instance Claudio Borio on the financial cycle, the whole section on regulation. It’s a conference volume – looks like it was an outstanding conference.

[amazon_image id=”0262027348″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]What Have We Learned?: Macroeconomic Policy After the Crisis[/amazon_image]

 

Not bowling alone

The UK economy is growing at a decent clip now, but the consequences of the long downturn linger on. The distinguishing feature of the post-2008 economic landscape in most western economies is how long growth has been so weak, how long it has taken for GDP to regain its previous peak. The final chapter of [amazon_link id=”0300203772″ target=”_blank” ]Hard Times: The Divisive Toll of the Economic Slump[/amazon_link] by Tom Clark with Anthony Heath describes the book’s suggestions for tackling the consequences of lengthy economic weakness as “wearyingly familiar.” That doesn’t make it any the less important to be reminded by this book of the social impact of the seven lean years since the Great Financial Crisis. Too often, discussions about the economic issues and the social issues proceed separately, but they are tightly linked.

[amazon_image id=”0300203772″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Hard Times: The Divisive Toll of the Economic Slump[/amazon_image]

The book is the product of a five-year research programme conducted by the University of Manchester (my new home as Professor of Economics from 1 September) and Harvard University, directed by Robert Putnam, famously author of [amazon_link id=”0743203046″ target=”_blank” ]Bowling Alone[/amazon_link] and its fascinating precursor [amazon_link id=”0691037388″ target=”_blank” ]Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italy.[/amazon_link] The presentation of those depressingly familiar economic statistics is accompanied by interviews with a range of people affected by unemployment, or precarious employment, or benefit cuts since 2008. It humanizes the – well, “wearyingly familiar” –  statistics and charts.

The human stuff – the social capital – really matters. [amazon_link id=”0300203772″ target=”_blank” ]Hard Times[/amazon_link] begins by citing a classic (1933) sociological study of the effects of mass unemployment, [amazon_link id=”0765809443″ target=”_blank” ]Marienthal: the sociography of an unemployed community[/amazon_link]. In this small Austrian town whose mill closed, people were asked to keep diaries, which recorded the loss of energy and social activity. Unemployment brought lethargy and isolation. The alternative in other places during the 1930s was rage.

[amazon_image id=”0765809443″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Marienthal (Ppr): The Sociography of an Unemployed Community[/amazon_image]

Other sociologists have demonstrated the importance of social ties in other contexts. One of my all-time favourites is Eric Klinenberg’s [amazon_link id=”0226443221″ target=”_blank” ]Heatwave[/amazon_link], which documents the clear impact of different family structures on ‘excess’ death rates during a Chicago heatwave: Hispanic families and neighbourhoods, more cohesive than equally poor African-American neighbourhoods, saw fewer fatalities. Another recent book has pointed to the psychological debilitation caused by poverty, [amazon_link id=”1846143454″ target=”_blank” ]Scarcity[/amazon_link] by Sendhil Mullainaithan and Eldar Shafir.

[amazon_image id=”1846143454″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Scarcity: Why having too little means so much[/amazon_image]

It seems, though, that a reminder is needed that money (lack of) matters as much because of the social as well as the economic consequences. [amazon_link id=”0300203772″ target=”_blank” ]Hard Times[/amazon_link] argues that the roots of a lack of social resilience stretch back before the crisis. “For all the riches of the millennial years, we found swathes of society that were already sorely exposed by that time.” Rising poverty rates before 2008, declining volunteering, drops in marriage rates (in the US) among some disadvantaged groups and of course rising inequality, all “worked to leave more of the vulnerable braving the storm in effective isolation.”

What to do? Well, it is indeed “wearyingly familiar”. Although the book supports the argument made for example by David Clark and Richard Layard in [amazon_link id=”1846146054″ target=”_blank” ]Thrive[/amazon_link] for additional mental health support, its point is that fundamentally money matters – jobs, a duly enforced minimum wage and decent working conditions, and an adequate safety net. Without an adequate income, and beset by anxiety about financial insecurity, people become isolated. Isolation damages their health and well-being, and causes a vicious cycle of vulnerability and still more insecurity. People with not enough money are not bowling alone, they are just alone.

The economic dilemmas involved in any job market interventions or social security are familiar too, the incentive effects and the trade-offs. But it’s good to be reminded that social consequences should form part of the calculation.

The financial crisis and post-structuralism

It’s been a busy week but on the train to and from York yesterday I finished Hugh Pym’s [amazon_link id=”1472902874″ target=”_blank” ]Inside the Banking Crisis: The Untold Story[/amazon_link] and started [amazon_link id=”140398655X” target=”_blank” ]The Birth of Biopolitics[/amazon_link] by Michel Foucault.

[amazon_image id=”1472902874″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Inside the Banking Crisis: The Untold Story[/amazon_image]

Now, Hugh is a friend and colleague of my husband’s at the BBC, so anybody reading this might want to aim off for the personal contact. Having said that, I’ve got no hesitation in recommending his account of what went on inside the Treasury and the Bank of England during that extraordinary period from late 2007 to 2009. It’s a very well-informed description of the to-ing and fro-ing, the agonised discussions and negotiations, the hair’s breadth escape from a collapse of the everyday payments systems – which could have brought, it was feared, a breakdown of social order. The events were so dramatic that even in calm retrospect reading the book set the hairs on the back of my neck on end again – for I had thought at the time it was well worth having enough cash in the house for a few weeks’ worth of groceries and other necessities.

Reading this makes it all the more remarkable that there are a few signs of a replay – continuing international imbalances, the asset price bubbles, the complex and unmonitorable risk-taking by banks. Maybe all financial regulators and economic policy folk should read Hugh’s book to remind themselves of what needs to be avoided. One of the conclusions that emerges from the book is in one sense how well the UK’s policymakers – politicians and officials – dealt with an extraordinary emergency, for all that one can argue about specific judgements or criticise the policies that allowed it all to happen in the first place. The system did not collapse. Decisions were taken at great speed, in a normally slow and cautious environment. It underlines David Runciman’s argument in [amazon_link id=”0691148686″ target=”_blank” ]The Confidence Trap[/amazon_link], that democracies are slow and bumbling when it comes to normal problems but able to achieve cohesive actions in a real crisis.

By contrast, the [amazon_link id=”140398655X” target=”_blank” ]Foucault essays[/amazon_link] sent me to sleep on the way back to London from York – it was Friday evening after all. So far, I’ve grasped that the book will aim for the shift in perspective for mainstream economics that Foucault gave us for punishment and madness, or in other words exploring the consequences of seeing what we regard as natural categories (madness, market forces) as socially constructed instead. It’s enough to make one wish Foucault had still been around for the financial crisis. I can’t remember who recommended the book to me except that it was somebody one would not regard as a natural follower of post-structuralist French philosophy, so despite the snooze I’ve got high hopes.

[amazon_image id=”140398655X” link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the Collège de France, 1978-1979: Lectures at the College De France, 1978-1979 (Michel Foucault: Lectures at the Collège de France)[/amazon_image]