For all the talk about how the current bear market in stocks
was precipitated by a "crisis in confidence" in American institutions
that started with the Enron scandal, the roots of the decline
go back to 1997. That's when the Asian financial crisis first
began to bite -- and America stepped up to keep the world economy
afloat.
The Asian crisis stemmed in the turn from the lingering aftermath
of the huge run-up in Japanese asset prices during the 1980s --
a bubble that burst in 1990. When the world's second largest economy
then stagnated, its banks went on a wild lending spree in pursuit
of profits in the more vigorous Asian economies.
When demand for the products of those rapidly expanding countries
stalled, thanks in large part to the continuing Japanese depression,
first Thailand, then Indonesia, then Korea, Hong Kong and Malaysia
suffered acute liquidity crises. Currency markets gyrated. The
International Monetary Fund battled to keep the system afloat.
The contagion spread to Russia in the summer of '98.
American stock prices sank in anticipation of a global recession
-- 513 points off the Dow Jones Industrial Average in a single
day in late August, '98. That was as much as the index had gained
all year.
In September, the stealthy financial trading firm known as Long
Term Capital Management tottered on the brink of bankruptcy, before
being forced into an orderly liquidation, barely avoiding global
gridlock. Three weeks later Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan
told a G-7 meeting that the emergency was getting worse. Never
in fifty years had he witnessed such a drying up of financial
markets.
So in October, Greenspan cut already low interest rates by a
critical additional quarter point. Markets turned up, hesitated
briefly, and in January '99, exploded upwards. The rest is well-known
history. From around 8500, the Dow climbed more than 3,000 points
in little more than a year.
Now, for the moment, we're back where we started.
The Fed refused to take a recession in 1999. Instead it pumped
up demand in the American economy. For more than a year the US
would serve as global "importer of the last resort." Other nations
took sharp recessions; the US grew more than 6 percent.
Remember "The Committee to Save the World?" That famous Time
magazine cover, featuring a photograph of the resolute trio of
Greenspan, Treasury Secretary Robert Rubin and his deputy and
soon-to-be successor Lawrence Summers, helped them stem the contagion
with an emergency aid package to Brazil.
But the price of the emergency measures was a bubble in US asset
markets. The peculiar form it took -- the New Economy mania --
was unanticipated. Its nature should have been clear enough by
April, 2000, when a New Yorker cover depicted exuberant New Economy-types
picking money off trees. We're still letting the air out now.
Ultimately, the recession could only be postponed.
All this is clear enough in hindsight. You can refresh your memory
of the threat that elicited the firm response by consulting Paul
Blustein's excellent chronicle,
The
Chastening: Inside the Crisis that Rocked the Global Management
System and Humbled the IMF.
You can remind yourself of how opaque can be the financial future
at critical turning points by re-reading Maestro:
Greenspan's Fed and the American Boom by Bob Woodward. "No one
knows whether the economic expansion will continue for years or
whether it is at its summit," Woodward wrote a few months before
the ten-year expansion came to an end in March 2001.
The stock market, any market, is a huge pattern of relative values,
constantly adjusting to new scraps of information about what the
future holds. It has gone up since August 1982 almost without
interruption, with only a handful of significant, momentary declines
-- the '87 market break, the '90-91 recession, the Mexican peso
crisis in '94, the Asian crisis in '98, the present bear market.
It will go up again, probably once the prospects for the next
major governmental initiative come clear. Presumably it will be
the administration's much-announced attempt to unseat the current
regime in Baghdad .
What happened in 1982? It was then that the political agenda
that might as well be described at the New Consensus firmly replaced
the sailing orders that for fifty years had been known as the
New Deal. Something similar happened about the same time in nations
all around the world. The US economy has seen two ten-year economic
expansions back-to-back since then. In all likelihood it will
see another begin soon.
But first the last wreckage must be cleared away of the disorderly
expansion that ensued after the Asian crisis. There was so much
new technology to be accommodated, so much financial innovation,
so much deregulation. Share prices came loose from their moorings,
the stream of future earnings that they are expected to yield.
It is no wonder price/earning ratios are being painfully re-thought.
Was Greenspan right to have stepped so firmly on the gas in 1998?
Nobody has been more consistently provocative on this topic than
Andrew Smithers,
an English investment advisor and columnist for London's Evening
Standard. He has argued for years that Greenspan missed a critical
chance to tighten when stock prices first began to rise disproportionately
(at least according to Smithers' own yardstick) in 1995.
"
It might well have caused a mild recession in 1996, but
it would probably have saved the economy from a really deep one
early in the new millennium," he has written.
Recessions are necessary corrections to the optimistic and greedy
excesses that inevitably build up during periods of prolonged
growth, Smithers says, reflecting the majority view. Frequent
small ones are better than occasional big ones. It all depends,
of course, on what is meant by "small" and "big" and "frequent."
For now the new millennium is here. The recession has come and
apparently gone, in little more than a year. If so, it was anything
but "really deep."
Despite the rough summer of '02, it is possible that Greenspan
and the economic managers of the Clinton administration did about
as well as could be done during that otherwise undisciplined decade.
The Japanese economy appears to be on the verge of growing again.
The effects of first of the serial bubbles may finally be wearing
off. It is still possible, as many bears fear, that a real estate
crash waits; that the stock market shock will tip the US economy
back into a worse recession. But it seems more likely that share
prices will rise to realign with house prices than the other way
around.
* * *
Perhaps the funniest out-loud economist in the world died last
week after a lengthy battle with cancer that he lost only in the
end.
Rudiger Dornbusch had just turned 60.
Dornbusch learned economics in the vibrant pandemonium of the
University of Chicago in the late 1960s, receiving his Ph.D. in
1971. He moved to MIT in 1975, and thereafter blended Chicago-style
skepticism of governments with Cambridge-style determination that
markets should be managed effectively nevertheless.
He devised a model of currency volatility that very likely would
have won him a Nobel Prize. With his friend Stanley Fischer he
wrote an influential textbook of macroeconomics. Keys
to Prosperity, a recent collection of his incidental pieces,
conveys the flavor of his views -- even some of his irrepressible
humor.
He will be remembered longest, however, for his influence on
and affection for men and women who brought market institutions
to half a dozen rapidly growing nations -- including Mexico, Argentina
and Brazil.