The drums are beating louder about the ongoing financial sector melt-down, and the seemingly unequal treatment received by "we the people," citizens, tax-payers, shareholders, and mortgage holders, and the captains of industry. Yes, it’s true: A couple of them missed their bonuses last year. And true, some have seen huge piles of paper net worth go up in smoke, built as it turns on on what look like ill-gotten gains.
But the truth is, there has been a massive shift in financial risk from the government and large corporate entities, all of whom presumably have available the absolute latest and greatest in analytical capabilities, to individuals who do not. Some sightems, first from the NYT Editorial Page on how big financial players have successfully socialized the costs of their bad decision making.
The ongoing bailout of the financial system by the Federal Reserve underscores the extent to which financial barons socialize the costs of private bets gone bad. Not a week goes by that the Fed doesn’t inaugurate a new way to provide liquidity — meaning money — to the financial system. Bear Stearns isn’t enormous. It doesn’t take deposits from the public. Yet the Fed believed that letting it implode could unleash a domino effect among other banks, and the Fed provided a $30 billion guarantee for JPMorgan to snap it up.
Compared to the cold shoulder given to struggling homeowners, the cash and attention lavished by the government on the nation’s financial titans provides telling insight into the priorities of the Bush administration. It’s not simply a matter of fairness, though. The Fed is probably right to be doing all it can think of to avoid worse damage than the economy is already suffering. But if the objective is to encourage prudent banking and keep Wall Street’s wizards from periodically driving financial markets over the cliff, it is imperative to devise a remuneration system for bankers that puts more of their skin in the game.
Financiers, of course, dispute that they are being insufficiently penalized. “I received no bonus for 2007, no severance pay, no golden parachute,” E. Stanley O’Neal, the former chief executive of Merrill Lynch, told a House committee recently. That doesn’t seem like much of a blow to Mr. O’Neal, who was removed earlier this year following gargantuan subprime-related losses.
Indeed, the pain that is being inflicted on financial-industry executives as a result of their own actions and decisions is not proving much of an encouragement. Rather, the knuckle-rapping seems only to encourage bankers to make up for any losses they may suffer by finding another way to navigate their companies, the financial system and the economy into the next maelstrom — from Internet stocks to what the industry calls zero-down, negative amortization, no-doc, adjustable-rate mortgages.
I’ve been struggling to capture this notion in previous blogs. It turns out there’s a juicy academic term for what I was trying to express: "Moral Hazard." Ellen Goodman, columnist for the Boston Globe, shines the light on this one as used by various right-leaning economists.
The idea began as an argument against insurance. If you had fire insurance, you would be careless around matches. Zap, more fires. In recent decades, it’s been used as a righteous reason for shredding safety social nets and toughening laws like those against declaring bankruptcy. Such safety nets, it’s argued, only encouraged more sinners, excuse me, welfare mothers and bankrupt families.
The same language of morality has been used by economic fundamentalists who don’t want to help homeowners who got subprime mortgage loans and find themselves in deep foreclosure weeds. Mike Huckabee once said that it "is not the purpose of government to prop people up from every poor decision they make. . . . It creates an enabling co-dependency." And as recently as last weekend, Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson insisted that government actions to prevent foreclosures would "do more harm than they would do good."
I grant you that moral hazard is not a myth. But most of the sermons railing against the harm of helping others are directed at the poorer pews.
We don’t seem to worry about the moral hazard of, say, protecting a CEO from his failings. Need I remind you that Robert Nardelli got $210 million in severance after he hammered Home Depot? Or that he now resides at the top of Chrysler?
This leads us right into the den of Bear Stearns. Last weekend, while its chief executive was off playing bridge, one of the most aggressive cowboy firms in the mortgage securities business collapsed. The government brokered a deal with J.P. Morgan Chase to buy the firm and guarantee its loans with your tax dollars.
None of this is difficult to understand, even if the intellectual dishonesty and all-around hypocrisy reeks. Money talks. Money fills campaign coffers. Money pays for elections. Money makes the world go round. And the "money, mahogany, and Monet" crowd have more of it than the rest of us, and they know how to spend it to smooth the way for their best friend, though occasionally obstreperous Mr. Markets.
All this talk of Moral Hazard got me interested. Who is this guy and why should I care? It turns out the concept figures prominently with the dismal science crowd. The problem is, nobody seems to want to play pin the tail on the donkey and talk about MH in connection with the really-really of how large corporations and the US Government have systematically transfered financial risk to average citizens.
Economist Sam Vaknin defines Moral Hazard like this . . .
Moral hazard is the risk that the behaviour of an economic player will change as a result of the alleviation of real or perceived potential costs.
Basically the idea is that the risks and rewards are not properly arrayed against the choices available. There is more upside than there is downside, and that asymmetry is artificial. This asymmetry is made worse where there is a similar and related imbalance in access to material and useful information.
Moral Hazard makes an appearance as the handmaiden of the foundation of modern economies: The ability to talk about and quantify risk. Says Professor Vaknin . . .
Risk transfer is the gist of modern economies. Citizens pay taxes to ever expanding governments in return for a variety of "safety nets" and state-sponsored insurance schemes. Taxes can, therefore, be safely described as insurance premiums paid by the citizenry. Firms extract from consumers a markup above their costs to compensate them for their business risks.
Profits can be easily cast as the premiums a firm charges for the risks it assumes on behalf of its customers – i.e., risk transfer charges. Depositors charge banks and lenders charge borrowers interest, partly to compensate for the hazards of lending – such as the default risk. Shareholders expect above "normal" – that is, risk-free – returns on their investments in stocks. These are supposed to offset trading liquidity, issuer insolvency, and market volatility risks.
The reallocation and transfer of risk are booming industries. Governments, capital markets, banks, and insurance companies have all entered the fray with ever-evolving financial instruments. Pundits praise the virtues of the commodification and trading of risk. It allows entrepreneurs to assume more of it, banks to get rid of it, and traders to hedge against it. Modern risk exchanges liberated Western economies from the tyranny of the uncertain – they enthuse.
But this is precisely the peril of these new developments. They mass manufacture moral hazard. They remove the only immutable incentive to succeed – market discipline and business failure. They undermine the very fundamentals of capitalism: prices as signals, transmission channels, risk and reward, opportunity cost. Risk reallocation, risk transfer, and risk trading create an artificial universe in which synthetic contracts replace real ones and third party and moral hazards replace business risks.
As I’ve already said, herein lies the problem. It’s not Moral Harard writ large. It’s bad enough when the counter parties are roughly equal. For example, in a contest between two governments or two large entities, there is often a back door available. Governments can inflate their way out of their money problems (and do all the time). Large entities can do the equivalent by issuing more stock or engineering a transaction.
But what happens when it’s you and me vs. Enron or Bear Stearns? What happens if you’re one of the millions of baby boomers who entered the work force with one set of assumptions about where your retirement security would come from, only to find out that all the risk has been transfered to you, and all the rewards have been kept by someone else. That seems like something more than mere Moral Hazard.
Tags: MoralHazard, JPMorgan, Bear Stearns, Enron, Markets, Federal Reserve, Fed, Bailout, Bubble, Sam Vaknin, Ellen Goodman, Decision Making, Decision Quality