I had avoided posting on the ongoing financial meltdown for the past month for a number of personal reasons—my mother's visit, some hectic sight-seeing, the beginning of lectures. These were all trumped, however, by the breadth and scale of the crisis itself.
The events of the past few months should give us pause. We are witnessing the single-greatest economic shock of the last 70 years or so, an event of such monumental importance it makes the amateur commentator wobble at the knees. Still, it would be criminal of me not to try my best at providing context for the present crisis--both for its origins as well as its possible outcomes.
Bear in mind these thoughts are the product of feverish typing and late-night (and therefore very possibly incoherent) logic and argument.
It is none-too difficult to be crude in outlining the contours of this calamity. Indeed, how do we go about finding the key moments that have brought us to this fateful moment?
It is safe to say that a combination of cheap credit (in the way of low interest rates) and lax regulation (what in Britain was called 'The Big Bang', the financial de-regulation boom of the 1980s) played a decisive role in creating the most dangerous asset bubble--one based .. valuations--the rich world has experienced since the Japanese asset bubble in the 1980s. Perhaps it would be wise to mention here that the popping of the latter bubble resulted in the 'lost decade' (the 1990s) of stagnant or negative growth in the Japanese economy--an altogether ghastly possibility in the present circumstances.
In essence, the guiding principles of 1980s neoliberalism—unregulated markets—combined with 21st-century easy credit to fuel first the tech-led stock bubble of the 1990s, and then the infinitely more dangerous property bubble of the post-2001 era.
The excess liquidity of the Greenspan era initially found anchor in the technology-stock boom of the mid-to-late 90s and then, later, in houses and the mortgages that financed their acquisition. The latter was the result of the Federal Reserve response following the bursting of the Dot Com bubble in 2001. With money to spare financial institutions responded by pumping billions of dollars into the US property market--and the Irish, British, and Spanish ones as well. Properties provided a repository for the easy money, which in turn led to spiralling house prices, excessive home construction and reckless home borrowing.
Wall Street and The City of London exacerbated these underlying weaknesses by 'spreading risk'. They did so two ways: firstly, by creating nifty little financial instruments whose value was pegged to excessively loose loans (i.e. the subprime market loans), and secondly, by selling on those instruments to banks worldwide. These moves exposed banks large and small, far and wide, to an increasingly bloated American banking sector's liabilities. Yet, little was done at this point to mitigate the eventual come-down. The disincentives were, of course, unimportant when compared with the individual incentives (massive payouts and bonuses) sliced off Wall Street largesse.
The so-called 'masters of the universe' didn't stop there. As the underlying value of those assets became more difficult to gauge—a spectacular dereliction of duty by the credit rating agencies—and as a mild economic slowdown turned ugly, the institutional holders and sellers of those assets became understandably jittery. This led to frenzied hedging strategies—such as the opaque credit default swaps—meant to insure and reinsure those assets in the event of a problem. Of course, the veritable scale of this problem created problems of its own—problems related to the possible unwinding of the (at peak) $62 trillion CDS market. The implications of this hedging haven't yet played out.
We needn't go much further in describing what happened next. The toxic assets at the heart of the market became worthless over time as the economy slowed down and mortgage defaults increased. The troubles in the subprime market spread quickly, first from the banking lenders at fault for lax lending practices and then onto banks who had 'securitised' those dodgy assets, and finally onto banks who had purchased them. As mortgages went unpaid in Minneapolis, bankers in New York and London were left with excess debts and holding impossible-to-value 'assets', whilst investors in Saxony, Germany faced massive losses.
This snowball effect began having real-world, systemic consequences as credit markets seized up—that is, as banks became unwilling to lend to each other and to consumers (individuals as well as companies) as the losses mounted and banks began going under. What had been the banks' boon during the good times—high-leveraging policies plus fancy derivatives trading—became their undoing. And so we saw the collapse of Bear Stearns (such a shock at the time—but one to be dwarfed so quickly) and the much-larger Lehman Brothers; the forced merger of Merrill Lynch with JP Morgan; the nationalisation of Freddie Mac, Fannie Mae and most of AIG; the run on Bradford and Bingley and Northern Rock in the UK; the wobble of European bank Fortis and others; and so on.
Add on the spiralling cost of commodities and you have the single-greatest threat to the present globalised economic order since its inception. What started as a trickle of bad news has become a torrential flood of bad news—and the potential for a global crisis unlike anything we've seen since the Great Depression.
Domestically the present crisis in world markets represents a systematic failure of leadership and pragmatism, and the victory of ideology and special interests.
By ideology I mean to say the outspoken market fundamentalism of the past three decades—the bipartisan-supported notion that unfettered, untrammelled and under-regulated markets would provide generous and continuous benefits to those states that adopted it. This notion—not always applied in reality, but always underpinning the system(s) philosophically—had its corollary in wishful thinking: that the economic boon reaped by the explosion of financial wizardry would eventually trickle down to the common man.
That common man, meanwhile, would witness extraordinary structural change—in the decline of American industry, in the wholesale de-regulation of the services industry and in the absolute and relative decline of industrial-unionised power vis-à-vis corporate, supply-side interests. It is no accident that inequality has continued its forward march unabated in America. For wedded to the fundamentalist principles cursorily described above was the vague assumption that the welfare state had outlived its use. This assumption was never successfully applied against that most enduring of New Deal policies—Social Security—but a succession of popular-sounding initiatives (such as the decennial call for 'welfare reform') scaled back many aspects of 1940s progressivism.
So it was that the most apparent indicator of asymmetric economic progress —the glacial rise of real median income and stagnant job creation during a period of outwardly positive economic growth—was ignored.
In a country long accused of never really having a Leftist movement (Aló, BHL) the Reagan-initiated, Reagan-inspired changes proceeded along with haste. Likewise in Margaret Thatcher's Britain—where her 'creatively destructive' liberalism was starker and confrontational—and even in François Mitterand's France, at least in the middle years of his administration.
The picture as I've described it so far (even if only a part of it were true or fair interpretation) would provide enough ammunition against the ideologues in Washington and elsewhere under normal circumstances.
These aren't, of course, normal circumstances. The economic unwinding of the past year or so would be painful enough even if weren't accompanied (as it is) by the spectacular failure of American institutions, politicians and socioeconomic culture.
Let me not mince my words here: it is my belief that this crisis represents the most searing indictment on the complacent triumphalism of the past 30 years or so. Our political system has failed to respond with anything resembling a coherent response to this crisis, if only from a managerial perspective.
On the contrary, the spectacular loss of confidence in our political leadership was put on display yesterday when the House of Representatives shot down the compromise bail-out package initially proposed by Secretary of the Treasury Henry Paulson (a Dartmouth alum, I'm none-too-proud to say). The package failed despite the incredible degree of bipartisan cooperation at the highest levels of government. The House rejected the bail-out despite winning the backing of the President, the Treasury secretary, the chairman of the Federal Reserve, the leadership of both parties in both houses of Congress, and influential politicos on both sides of the aisle.
I was so utterly shocked by the news that I managed to spit a bit of my pint of bitter out yesterday evening at a King's College/Classic Department shindig at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese. How could this flawed, but perhaps necessary, piece of legislation fall prey—at this abysmal hour—to craven party politics? Would the immediate and stupefying drop in the stock markets convince the sceptics of the necessity of some political intervention? And how could the GOP rebels really get away with proposing cuts to capital gains taxes at a time when banks probably won't have many capital gains to tax anyway!?
Some form of the bill may yet be passed by this Congress, as well it should.
Nevertheless, it is painfully obvious that the government as a whole now suffers from a crisis of legitimacy unseen since the Watergate years.
This shouldn't come as any surprise to anyone.
The mechanisms of government have been methodically corrupted and undone by the singular stubborn-minded approach to governance displayed by the Republican Party and its apologists on the other side of the aisle. The net result is a legitimacy deficit
For decades the Republican Party—which has governed the White House for 20 out of the last 28 years; controlled Congress for most of the 1990s and early noughties; selected the majority of the justices of the Supreme Court; and whose free-market ideology has become the economic consensus Washington—has been brazenly contemptuous of government in all its manifestations.
That isn't to say that the GOP ever really managed to 'reduce' government, the stated goal of the Reagan Revolution. On the contrary, the Reagan and Bush II years have been defined by massive budget deficits and rising public-sector debt. Paradoxically, the party of small government has exponentially increased the size of government in ways Democrats could only dream—and have done so despite protestations to the contrary.
The level of public commitments alone wouldn't be so problematic—here I proudly display my political stripes—if it weren't for the stunning incompetence of succeeding Republican leaders.
As our industry is shipped off to other parts of the world and the 'real economy' stagnates, our leadership still slavishly praises the wonders of the über-liberal economy. As our trade deficits soar and foreigners control an ever-larger portion of our debt (read another way: as foreigners bank-roll our spending) this country chooses to bully its friends and foes with impunity. As successive crises of confidence rocked American-style socioeconomic policies, our leadership goes on lecturing, hectoring and ignoring the outside world on everything from terrorism to—you betcha!—economic policy.
And as government assumes more burdens—in a distorted fashion: to the net benefit of politically-motivated pet projects and a bloated defence budget, and at the expense of the social safety net—our leaders debase the decision-making process, rendering it inefficient, dysfunctional and mistrusted. The GOP has tested the fibre of the American constitutional project, and in some disquieting ways have managed to dent it.
The Republicans have made a business of partisan hatred and a blame-government-first mentality. They have scalped government departments and offices, and packed them with hacks—not out of a pragmatic desire to manage government, but ultimately to undermine it. And in this all the media's complicity in the affair—in its inability to report the government's many abuses; in its shameless inability to stay above the fray, even disowning 'patriotism' (if need be) as a journalistic duty; and in its spiral to the bottom, in terms of quality.
Perhaps—perhaps—this is the perverse logic of the Right Wing: to use the levers of government in such a perverse manner as to render them irrevocably damaged and socially de-legitimised. Our civil servants are mistrusted, our institutions disdainful of our rights, our representative politics reduced to sham sparring and legislative gridlock, our leaders shockingly wedded to the creators of the buck—all to the detriment of social cohesiveness and socio-moral responsibility.
How can government ever again be trusted by its citizens when it has been so grossly destructive of its means?
So we come to what is perhaps the most jarring lesson of this crisis: the fundamental undermining of the American colossus from within at a time of great geopolitical change. Let us be in no doubt: the American Century as we knew it is no more.
That is not to say that America has suddenly and irrevocably become irrelevant. The strength of its constitutional structures remains—if tattered—and its economic productivity remains enviable. Nevertheless, by most measures of global power America is in relative decline to the BRIC states and others in the developing world—save, of course, for the size and scope of its military force.
America's economic legitimacy has been shaken to its foundations with the present crisis, whilst its political structures have manifestly failed to remain relevant at this critical time. Its human rights and developmental aid record has been patchy, while its foreign policy has been soundly rejected. Technologically still the most advanced nation on Earth, America has failed to translate this advantage into tangible gains—whether it be in its shoddy infrastructure (civil engineering-wise, transport-wise and even high-tech-wise in the form of its decrepit cell phone network) or its energy policies.
Together these problems amount to a stunning crisis of respect and legitimacy. It was only a few years ago that America was described as the world's only hyperpower: its power and dominance unchecked, its ambitions global.
That is no longer the case. We now have an America roundly criticised from all corners of the world for its lack of leadership. Today, my country is humbled, its problems personified in one man: the gaunt, dejected and exhausted figure of President George W. Bush.
The next US president may do much to roll-back the decades of incompetence.
As of now neither candidate has shown a particularly creative stab in that direction, which is entirely unfortunate.
It is still the case, I believe, the he will have to manage a policy of reconciliation and rebuilding at home and geopolitical accommodation abroad. Domestically, he will have to manage the country through the aftermath of the current economic crisis—and it is not entirely clear whether the worse is yet to come on this front—and defuse the decades-long rancour at the heart of political discourse.
Externally, he will have to accept the rise of new regional powers and the establishment of new economic principles, and perhaps even the reshaping of key institutions—such as the IMF, the World Bank and perhaps the UN.
It will not be the case that America will forget its penchant for foreign meddling and the leadership of its allies, though battered. It most likely will not become entirely isolationist. But we can probably expect more restraint. Old habits die hard, except when they cost a pretty (debt-funded) penny.
September 2008 may well be remembered as the turning point in a fundamental reordering of global power. Many editorial boards, economists, politicians and common-folk worldwide are suggesting as much already.
Of course, we shall only know with the passing of time what the events of September 2008 mean in the long term—though I'd go out on a limb and suggest its ramifications could eclipse those stemming from the events of September 2001.
One thing is certain: For Americans the next few months couldn't flit by any faster...



