One way to evaluate Alan Greenspan's speech
last month in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in which he disclaimed responsibility
for the dot.com bubble, is to see the chairman as a lame duck,
and ask who might succeed him at the Fed.
The search still is in its preliminary stages.
The usual deep divisions exist within the administration.
But the name that has begun to be heard is that
of Martin Feldstein, a Harvard University professor and adviser
to three Republican presidents, who has served for a quarter century
as president of the bipartisan, policy-oriented National Bureau
of Economic Research as well.
What would change as a result? That's the question
worth thinking about.
Consider: America has had only two Fed chairmen
in 23 years. First was Paul Volcker, nominated by President Jimmy
Carter and reappointed by Ronald Reagan in 1983. Then came Greenspan,
nominated by Reagan in 1987 and reappointed by Presidents Bush
in 1991 and Clinton in 1996 and 2000.
Both men were central figures in a great drama
-- what Greenspan correctly described as that "remarkable
turnaround" of the American economy during the past two decades.
"
Rather that accept the role of a once-great
but diminishing economic force, for reasons that doubtless will
be debated for years to come, we resurrected the dynamism of previous
generations of Americans," Greenspan said in Wyoming. Innovation,
deregulation, trade liberalization, fiscal and monetary housekeeping
measures together ushered in a powerful wave of competitive vigor
and growth.
It was Volcker who in 1979 adopted the artifice
of "targeting monetary aggregates" in order to run interest
rates up to unprecedented levels to stem inflation. He succeeded,
but at considerable cost. He toughed out nearly three years of
on-and-off recession, which laid the foundations for the long
boom that followed.
Greenspan will be best remembered for having steadied
global markets in two highly dangerous financial crises (1987
and 1997-98) and for having adroitly engineered the 20-year boom
which they threatened to interrupt. Despite a brief and mild recession
in 1990-91, it was the longest expansion in American history.
The problem is that the landing that Greenspan
contrived seems, at the moment at least, to have been anything
but soft, despite the fact that the recession of 2001-02 was shallow
and quickly over. For all the jargon surrounding the use of the
word "bubble" -- meaning nothing more than a surge in
asset prices to unsustainable levels -- central bankers' task
remains the same today as fifty years ago, when Fed chairman William
McChesney Martin defined his job as "taking away the punch
bowl just when the party starts to get good."
This chairman Greenspan failed to do. In fact he
got a little carried away himself. And the result is a substantial
mess. It was described in some detail last week in "The
Trouble with Bubbles," an article by Stephen Cecchetti,
who is now professor of economics at Ohio State University but
for a couple of crucial years between 1997 and 1999 served director
of research at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.
We all know about the misallocation of resources
to high-tech companies that took place, Cecchetti wrote in the
Financial Times, not to mention the run-up in stock prices. But
less obvious concomitants of the bubble may have been more serious,
he said. Federal, state and local tax policy and the corporate
pension system were damaged as well.
Lulled by capital gains receipts, governments overspent,
while many companies drained their pension funds' supposed "over-funding"
in order to report higher profits. Deficits all around were the
results -- shortfalls amounting to hundreds of billions of dollars,
now being painfully made up. "I believe we are now paying
the price for the Fed's failure to contemplate (interest rate
increases) in the spring of 1997," Cecchetti concludes.
But such arguments give short shrift to the extraordinary
balancing act performed by Greenspan during the 1990s -- coping
with the Asian financial crisis and the approach of the 2000 presidential
election. They may overstate the damage done as well. The Fed
chairman said at Jackson Hole that "The notion that a well-timed
incremental tightening could have been calibrated to prevent the
late 1990s bubble is almost surely an illusion." He is probably
right.
Nevertheless, he could have warned in late 1999
against the market trend, much as he did he 1996 when he ascribed
markets' buoyant tendencies to "irrational exuberance."
Had he done so, his reputation in the history books would have
fared better.
Taken as a whole, Greenspan's mild euphoria near
the end of his reign was no worse than Paul Volcker's failure
to call attention to the savings and loan crisis that was developing
under his bank examiners' noses. That was another expensive surprise
largely forgiven by posterity of a man who had done a hard job
well. As has been said in a slightly different connection, the
future is all about surprises. That's why they call it the future.
Once the next expansion is firmly underway, Greenspan
is likely to be remembered mainly as the most successful party-giver
since Bill Martin, who served a record 20 years as chairman of
the Fed, from 1951 to 1970. And the end of the 76-year-old's epoch
may come sooner than you think.
When Greenspan took office for his fourth term
as chairman in June 2000, it was bruited that he might resign
well before his four year term was done. The idea was that the
next president might have the opportunity to choose his own chairman,
not too deep into his own time in office. Events have only underscored
the wisdom of that possibility.
Feldstein is at least triply qualified to succeed
Greenspan. For one thing, he is a true conservative, a product
of the same developments in the late 1960s and early 1970s that
caused young George Bush to move to the right.
For another, he routinely has been tested, first
in Washington as chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers
during Ronald Reagan's first term, when he stood up to the president's
deficits-don't-matter advisers, then in a series of behind-the-scenes
policy debates, including the first Bush administration's decision
to address the budget deficit on the eve of the Gulf War in 1990.
His stewardship of the mostly non-partisan National Bureau of
Economic Research, with its tripartite governance (business, labor,
universities) and its broad sampling of university-based research
has helped too.
But most important is his loyalty to the Bush family
over a period of twenty years -- from initial conversations with
presidential aspirant George H.W. Bush in 1980 to the choice of
Feldstein's protégé and former head teaching assistant,
Lawrence Lindsey, to serve as the administration's top economist
in 2001.
His one problem is what is viewed by some in the
Bush camp as occasionally excessive independence. He was memorably
off the reservation during the 2000 campaign, for example, when
he promoted his program for the privatization of Social Security
at the expense of the candidate's in-house advisers.
But a certain amount of independence is a virtue
in a Fed chief. It has everything to do with the stakes for which
the game is played. Paul Volcker and Alan Greenspan are tough
acts to follow. Perhaps alone among the president's advisers,
Marty Feldstein has the necessary stature to try.