understanding politics, considerations

Credit-Card Companies and the New Great Depression


January 2nd, 2010 · World Affairs

credit-card companiesThe aver­age reader could prob­a­bly be for­given for pass­ing Vox Day’s “The Return of the Great Depres­sion” with­out giv­ing it a sec­ond thought. After all, the author is a weekly colum­nist for World­Net­Daily, a far-right, news web­site that is as biased as it is sen­sa­tion­al­is­tic.

But the reader would be miss­ing one of the poten­tially most-important eco­nomic reviews in recent times on how credit-card com­pa­nies and other insti­tu­tions helped to cre­ate a new Great Depression.

Con­trary to what some might have pre­dicted from a writer for WND, Day’s sec­ond non-fiction book — the first was his cri­tique of the so-called “New Athe­ism” of Richard Dawkins, Sam Har­ris, and Christo­pher Hitchens in “The Irra­tional Athe­ist” — is not a polemic in favor of end­ing the Fed­eral Reserve, return­ing to the gold stan­dard, or other such issues that dom­i­nate among fringe con­ser­v­a­tives and lib­er­tar­i­ans. Rather, it is largely a cold, ratio­nal, even-handed assess­ment of the eco­nomic his­tory of the past twenty years from the rise of Japan in the late 1980s to the finan­cial tur­moil of today.

(Dis­clo­sure: I am a fre­quent reader of and occa­sional com­menter on Day’s blog, Vox Popoli. I also received a review copy of “The Return of the Great Depres­sion.”)

Day, a Buck­nell Uni­ver­sity grad­u­ate with degrees in eco­nom­ics and East Asian stud­ies, begins by tak­ing the reader to the year 1988 in Japan, where he was a stu­dent at the time. The scene he sets sounds eerily like 1920s and 1990s Amer­ica. Unknown mod­els could earn $225,000 per year for only “occa­sional cat­a­log shoots.” Real-estate in the island nation sold for $140,000 per square foot. A year later, the Tokyo stock mar­ket com­prised “forty-four per­cent of the total value of every equity listed on every stock exchange around the world.” Sev­en­teen of the forty largest banks in the world were Japan­ese. Tokyo, as Day recalls with a few comedic anec­dotes included, was awash with money, celebri­ties, and busi­ness deals. As read­ers might recall, the fear of Japan­ese dom­i­nance in this cli­mate was indeed one of the themes of Michael Crichton’s 1992 book and film, “The Ris­ing Sun.”

And then, as we all know, Japan crashed. For more than the next ten years, the econ­omy was stag­nant, defla­tion was dom­i­nant, and the stock and real-estate mar­kets had lost all of their gains that occurred dur­ing the bull mar­ket. Today, as Day notes, the country’s debt-to-GDP level is four times higher than it was just after the crash, Japan’s gov­ern­ment owes dou­ble the amount of yen as the econ­omy makes in a year. Twenty years later, Japan has yet to recover fully.

Day cites research pre­pared in 2002 by Mit­suhiro Fukao for a sym­po­sium by the Japan Foun­da­tion at the Uni­ver­sity of Michi­gan to argue that Japan’s crash had three main causes: loose mon­e­tary pol­icy [low interest-rates], tax dis­tor­tions, and finan­cial dereg­u­la­tion. As Day implies, this sce­nario should sound haunt­ingly familiar.

From just before the early-1990s reces­sion to the after­math of Sep­tem­ber 11, 2001, the Fed­eral Reserve cut inter­est rates from ten per­cent to 0.75 per­cent. (Cur­rently, the rate is just above zero per­cent.) The low cost of bor­row­ing — com­bined with gov­ern­ment ini­tia­tives under both Demo­c­ra­tic and Repub­li­can admin­is­tra­tions to increase home­own­er­ship, gov­ern­ment dereg­u­la­tion of the finan­cial sec­tor, and finan­cial insti­tu­tions who stretched, if not out­right broke, the law — led to the hous­ing boom that even­tu­ally burst in a sce­nario not unlike that of Japan.

But this is old news. What Day sheds light upon over the next two chap­ters is the fact that U.S. banks — through fractional-reserve bank­ing — have been liv­ing on a tightrope that is thin­ner than peo­ple real­ize and that eco­nomic sta­tis­tics are mas­saged enough so that no one truly knows the cur­rent state of the economy.

For exam­ple, Day notes that the often-reported 10.3 per­cent cash-reserve ratio applies only to “insti­tu­tions with more than $43.9 mil­lion in net trans­ac­tion accounts and does not apply to cor­po­rate, for­eign, or gov­ern­ment deposits.” As the author writes: “if even one per­cent of the aver­age U.S. bank’s cus­tomers closed their accounts and demanded their cash, the bank would be wiped out.” In sum, banks loaned and invested so much of their deposits that any cri­sis would cause many of them col­lapse. It is no won­der, then, that finan­cial insti­tu­tions are now hoard­ing money, result­ing in the often-described “credit crunch.”

But Day goes on to observe, cor­rectly, that the mod­ern, U.S. econ­omy — based on Key­ne­sian the­ory — has needed debt to keep grow­ing even though, as I observed in a prior post as well, such an par­a­digm was doomed to col­lapse. At an increas­ing rate over the past twenty-five years, con­sumers kept bor­row­ing money — and banks were glad to loan the money — to live beyond their means and keep the econ­omy afloat through con­sumer spend­ing, which com­prises roughly two-thirds of the Gross Domes­tic Prod­uct (GDP). Day accu­rately notes that such a “debt-based econ­omy is lit­tle more than an economy-sized Ponzi scheme.”

More­over, as Day writes in Chap­ter 4, the sta­tis­tics on which pol­icy mak­ers and finan­cial jour­nal­ists rely hide the pre­car­i­ous state of the U.S. econ­omy. Day presents records show­ing that the GDP fig­ures from the Bureau of Eco­nomic Analy­sis between 2007 and 2009 vary at an aver­age of $245 bil­lion between the advance and revised num­bers — and that the dif­fer­ence is great enough to change whether the econ­omy is grow­ing or con­tract­ing in many of those spe­cific quar­ters. Day shows that gov­ern­ment revi­sions — some­times going as far back as 1929 — tend to over­es­ti­mate GDP while under­stat­ing unem­ploy­ment and infla­tion. In the author’s view, the econ­omy tends to be worse than what the gov­ern­ment reports (usu­ally out of a polit­i­cal desire to keep bad news hidden).

After spend­ing the next two chap­ters dis­cussing the Ricar­dian Vice (over­sim­pli­fi­ca­tion in eco­nomic analy­sis), the Key­ne­sian the­ory of eco­nom­ics, the Chicago school of mon­e­tarism, and whether the sys­tem of cen­tral bank­ing has lived up to its pur­ported ben­e­fits, Day launches into a chap­ter defend­ing the the­ory to which he sub­scribes: Aus­trian eco­nom­ics. With­out going into eco­nomic his­tory and phi­los­o­phy here, the author makes a point that is worth remem­ber­ing: Aus­trian econ­o­mists includ­ing Peter Schiff, Marc Faber, and Mike Shed­lock were gen­er­ally the only ones who pre­dicted the cur­rent cri­sis. Day sum­ma­rizes the Aus­trian view of the busi­ness cycle as such: credit expan­sion, eco­nomic boom, mal­in­vest­ment, eco­nomic bust, liq­ui­da­tion and credit contraction.

Near the end of Day’s book, the author offers ten rea­sons why a sec­ond Great Depres­sion will occur — and why it will be worse than the first — even though many ana­lysts are cur­rently pre­dict­ing a recov­ery to be underway:

  1. The pre-2008 invest­ment boom was larger than the one before 1929, mean­ing the down­turn will match the upturn;
  2. Gov­ern­ments will enact fis­cal poli­cies that will ulti­mately prove harm­ful on greater scale than was enacted dur­ing the 1930s;
  3. Gov­ern­ments have less room for action because they are already con­strained by debt;
  4. Loan defaults will extend from hous­ing to other sec­tors includ­ing credit cards;
  5. Allow­ing so-called “zom­bie banks” to sur­vive — as Japan did — will be more harm­ful in the long run than let­ting them fail;
  6. The full effect of the crash of the deriv­a­tives mar­ket is still unknown;
  7. Poli­cies that encour­age under­em­ploy­ment to com­bat unem­ploy­ment even though it makes economies less efficient;
  8. The lack of a war — like World War II — to boost the national economy;
  9. The eco­nomic cost of any anti-climate change reg­u­la­tions; and
  10. The idea — con­tro­ver­sial, to say the least — that the United States has entered a “Grand Super­cy­cle bear mar­ket” in terms of long-term his­tor­i­cal events that will bal­ance the bull mar­ket that began with the Rev­o­lu­tion­ary War.

Day — who, it must be noted, is a writer who can make a per­sua­sive argu­ment with­out a finance degree — closes his book by offer­ing six sce­nar­ios of what may occur in the U.S. econ­omy. The most likely, as the title pro­claims, is another Great Depres­sion that will be worse than the first. (The least likely, he pre­dicts, is a so-called “V-shaped reces­sion” in which every­thing will revert to nor­mal soon.) At the end, the author rec­om­mends sev­eral poli­cies that he believes will sal­vage the U.S. econ­omy as much as possible.

Now, it goes with­out say­ing that mak­ing eco­nomic pre­dic­tions can be a fool’s errand at best. Econ­o­mists can look at the past astutely, but if you ask five for their opin­ions on the future, you will get six answers. As Day him­self notes, the U.S. econ­omy is such a large, com­plex beast that no one — not a gov­ern­ment agency, nor any econ­o­mist, nor any­one — can accu­rately observe the present, let alone pre­dict the future. But the author pro­vides enough data and analy­sis to raise impor­tant ques­tions on the sta­bil­ity of the foun­da­tion of the U.S. economy.

As Day notes in an early chap­ter, “the main­stream media from which we receive most of our infor­ma­tion has an insti­tu­tional mem­ory that is mea­sure in days, if not hours.” What he does best in his lat­est book is take a step back and show the reader the eco­nomic for­est rather than the trees. And the for­est, quite pos­si­bly, might be on fire.