Friday, December 31, 2010

Why I Despise Krugman

Recently, I wrote a take-down of Paul Krugman. 

  
I pointed out how, in some of his recent posts, Krugman was distorting facts in order to score points for his policy prescriptions. I showed how he was pulling sleight-of-hand with the numbers, so as to play on readers’ misconceptions, and thereby make his rather foolish policy prescriptions sound reasonable. 
  
In short, I showed how unreasonable his policy prescriptions really were, capping my read on him as follows: A man who would never tell the truth, when a lie would serve him just as well
  
But as I wrote my rebuttal to Krugman’s recent posts, I was surprised to feel a blazing anger towards the man—not towards his policies, or even towards his less-than-honest attempts to fudge facts in order to score points—
  
—I found that I despised Krugman: With a passion. 

The Short-Sightedness You Get From Staring At A Single Number

Update 10/2/10: Some sloppy writing on my part led to me seeming to imply that the trade deficit added empty calories to the GDP—this of course isn’t the case: As everyone ought to know, the net of imports and exports are added to consumer spending, government spending, and gross investment, to arrive at the GDP figure. Therefore—obviously—the trade imbalance is factored into the GDP. Please excuse my error. 
  
Because of the need to repair this mistake, I decided to touch up a few other aspects of this post—specifically drawing attention to the fact that the private sector is just as guilty of the myopia that I describe as the public policy sector. GL. 
  
So: Revised gross domestic product numbers came out—the U.S. economy grew 1.7% (annualized) during the second quarter. 
  
Whoop-dee-fucking-doo—if this keeps up, does it mean that each person living in the United States will be 1.7% richer by the end of 2010? 
  
Richer how? Because most people won’t be feeling richer by the end of the year—they’ll likely be feeling poorer. With good reason. 
  
Over the last 40 years or so, “the growth in the GDP” has been the totem every politician, every economist, even most citizens hang their hat on—as if this percentage figure all by itself embodied all the goodness (if it was ≥4%) or evil (≤2%) there was in the world. 
  
High GDP?—America happy!!! 
  
Low GDP?—America sad! 
  
(God forbid) Negative GDP?
  
AAAaaaaahhhhhhhhh. . . . . . 
  
But all by itself, growth in the GDP number means absolutely nothing. The fact that so much of American industry has been demolished by the bulldozer of Globalization over the last thirty years—all while GDP steadily accreted—proves that growth in GDP means nothing. 

Fire & Ice: Current Economic Policy Prescriptions, and Why They Fail

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if I had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
—Robert Frost, Fire and Ice, 1920.

Current global macro-economic policy is veering between two strategies: Fiscal austerity, or fiscal spending.

The first camp—fiscal austerity—argues that governments should cut spending, and perhaps even raise certain taxes, so long as those taxes do not harm general economic productivity. The rationale is, the sovereign debt has to be reduced now, as one day, there will be no more buyers for all the debt that’s being floated by countries. When that day comes, the countries will be broke—and broke countries often go up in revolutionary flames.

The second camp—fiscal spending—argues that cutting back and/or raising taxes in the middle of a slowdown is the sure path to macroeconomic suicide. To their way of thinking, the economic slowdown means lower aggregate demand. So the advocates of fiscal spending argue that to cut spending now would further depress aggregate demand—which would further slow down the economy, turning the situation into a vicious cycle: The dreaded Deflationary Death Spiral Freeze-Out. Therefore, to quote Cheney: Fuck the deficit. Rather than tighten its belt, the government should step in and spend more, so as to maintain the level of aggregate demand in the economy, until such time as it is once again back on its feet and able to expand without fiscal stimulus. 

Fuck The Deficit (Or Will The Deficit End Up Fucking Us?)

Currently, the United States is conducting one of the most remarkable experiments in fiscal finances in world history.

The American economy is in a severe recession. Coupled with that—as both partial cause and partial effect of the recession—the United States' banking system crashed in the Fall of '08, a crash which in many ways is still ongoing as I write this, nearly two years later.

What the recession and the concomitant banking crisis have caused are, essentially, a fall in aggregate demand levels, as well as a fall in aggregate asset value. In other words, the population is spending less, and asset values have deteriorated, both nominally and as compared to any basket of hard commodities.

These are the two metrics which the two principal camps of current American macroeconomic thought consider vital. “Saltwater” economists look to aggregate demand levels, while “freshwater” economists look to aggregate asset value—each of these camps view their fetish-object as the cornerstone for economic growth, development and prosperity. Naturally, when either of these camps see their juju slide, they freak out. They declare the economy to be “in crisis”—and further declare that “something must be done”.

Something has been done: It's called The Deficit.

QE2 Will Sink Us

Ben Bernanke and the Federal Reserve are preparing for QE2—a second round of Quantitative Easing.

The rationale is that the United States’ economy is circling the deflationary drain—something Bernanke and the Fed are absolutely terrified of. Certainly deflation is hitting the U.S. economy full bore, but it’s yet to be proven that this deflationary trough has twisted itself into a self-reinforcing vicious cycle. I would argue that the chances of the U.S. economy twisting into a deflationary death spiral has yet to be made. But be that as it may, it doesn’t matter if the economy is in a deflationary death spiral—Bernanke and Co. think that that’s the imminent danger. And they're the ones with their finger on The Big Red Money-Making Button. 

“Extend & Pretend”: Where Are We After One [and a half] Years of the Suspension of the FASB Rules?

Note: I originally posted this on Yves Smith’s blog naked capitalism, last April 4. The original post is here.

Recently, William Black has more or less pointed out the same thing, as reported by Mish Shedlock here: With the financial industry having pressured Congress, the accounting rules have been softened to the point where they cannot discern a healthy bank from an insolvent one. Hence, zombie banks, and a Japanese-style lost decade.

My April 4 post:

In 1982, many of the banks hit by the Latin American debt crisis were effectively insolvent. Paul Volcker, as the then-Chairman of the Federal Reserve—charged with overseeing the banking system—effectively cast a blind eye on this banking insolvency.

Volcker’s reasoning seems to have been that the US banks were not broke—they were just getting temporarily squeezed. Volcker seems to have concluded that time would heal the balance sheet wounds caused by the Latin American defaults. Therefore, to hold the banks to the letter of the accounting rules would likely drive one or more of them broke, to no useful purpose—and it could potentially cause a bank panic and general financial crisis. But to pretend (for a while) that all was right with the US banks would avoid a potential panic—so long as the crisis sorted itself out and the banks repaired themselves by writing off and renegotiating their toxic Latin American debt. 

Social Security, and the Chilean AFP System

There’s been a lot of talk, lately, from the American political classes, about “reforming” Social Security. About the need for “tough choices”.

This isn’t surprising. Social Security is a demographic and financial time-bomb. With something like 60 million Baby Boomers about to begin retiring, the so-called “Social Security lock-box” is going to take quite the beating—especially considering that that famed “lock-box” is stuffed not with money but with IOU’s, placed there by the Treasury as it used the Social Security money to finance deficit spending.

People aren’t blind or stupid, even though they do seem to act that way most of the time. They know that Social Security can’t possibly afford to pay off what it owes the Baby Boom generation. Politicians of both parties are making rumbling noises, essentially in two directions: Cutting benefits, and finding an “alternative system”.

One of those alternative systems some American pundits and politicians have been looking at is the Chilean system of AFP’s—
Administradoras de Fondos de Pensiones, literally “Managers of Pension Funds”. 
 
This system is a workable free market solution to the problem of funding worker pensions. Unfortunately for this good idea, the system was imposed by decree by the dictator Augusto Pinochet back in 1980—so right there, you have some major political hurdles to overcome. Already one American politician fried herself irredeemably by merely mentioning the “P”-word: I’m not sure if it was “Pinochet” or “privatization” of Social Security that did her in—but one or the other was to blame. 


Professional “Literary” Writers, and the Federal Reserve

I’ve been working on a book called The Green of the Republic since late-2006.

It’s a panoramic novel set in Dartmouth College, during the academic year 1993-‘94. Each of the half dozen main characters—faculty, administrators and especially students—come to understand the peculiar brand of American conformity and corruption, a rottenness camouflaged by talk of “openness”, “tolerance”, “freedom” and “diversity”.

Actually, the best description of the book is M.C. Escher’s Ascending and Descending:

The endless parade of monks climbing up and down the twisted, unnatural staircase. The three monks who have realized what’s going on—one of them gazing placidly at the endless procession, as if studying it. The other looking away as he sits at the top of the staircase, as if deciding where to go, or if to go at all. The third one, of course, anonymously in line, aware of the futility of the procession he’s in, yet walking up and down the stairs without protest or demurral.

If the monks of the picture are students, faculty and administrators at Dartmouth, then the plot of The Green of the Republic is the story of how some of them came to realize what was going on, and either chose to observe and remain detached; or chose to turn their backs and walk away; or chose to acquiesce and stay in the endless line.

My panoramic novel is absurdly long: I currently have something like 550,000 words—roughly the length of War and Peace. Of the words I’ve written, I’m satisfied with about 425,000 of them. I anticipate the final draft of The Green of the Republic to run about 650,000 words, which I ought to be completing sometime in late 2012 or early 2013.

I wouldn’t bet on it ever seeing the light of day, publishing-wise. Though stylistically it’s naturalist/realist, its length, subject matter, theme and structure are too idiosyncratic. Besides: Publishing—like any business—is about selling what people want. Nobody has the patience for a long book anymore. So The Green of the Republic won’t be published. Then again, I don’t mind—I’m writing it for myself.

But it’s made me think about so-called “literary” fiction, and about the Federal Reserve. (Yes, you read right: “Literary” fiction and the Federal Reserve. And no, I’m not taking drugs. Thank you for asking.)

How Hyperinflation Will Happen

Right now, we are in the middle of deflation. The Global Depression we are experiencing has squeezed both aggregate demand levels and aggregate asset prices as never before. Since the credit crunch of September 2008, the U.S. and world economies have been slowly circling the deflationary drain. 

To counter this, the U.S. government has been running massive deficits, as it seeks to prop up aggregate demand levels by way of fiscal “stimulus” spending—the classic Keynesian move, the same old prescription since donkey’s ears.

But the stimulus, apart from being slow and inefficient, has simply not been enough to offset the fall in consumer spending. 

For its part, the Federal Reserve has been busy propping up all assets—including Treasuries—by way of “quantitative easing”.

The Fed is terrified of the U.S. economy falling into a deflationary death-spiral: Lack of liquidity, leading to lower prices, leading to unemployment, leading to lower consumption, leading to still lower prices, the entire economy grinding down to a halt. So the Fed has bought up assets of all kinds, in order to inject liquidity into the system, and bouy asset price levels so as to prevent this deflationary deep-freeze—and will continue to do so. After all, when your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

But this Fed policy—call it “money-printing”, call it “liquidity injections”, call it “asset price stabilization”—has been overwhelmed by the credit contraction. Just as the Federal government has been unable to fill in the fall in aggregate demand by way of stimulus, the Fed has expanded its balance sheet from some $900 billion in the Fall of ’08, to about $2.3 trillion today—but that additional $1.4 trillion has been no match for the loss of credit. At best, the Fed has been able to alleviate the worst effects of the deflation—it certainly has not turned the deflationary environment into anything resembling inflation.

Yields are low, unemployment up, CPI numbers are down (and under some metrics, negative)—in short, everything screams “deflation”. 

Therefore, the notion of talking about hyperinflation now, in this current macro-economic environment, would seem . . . well . . . crazy. Right?

Wrong: I would argue that the next step down in this world-historical Global Depression which we are experiencing will be hyperinflation. 

Most people dismiss the very notion of hyperinflation occurring in the United States as something only tin-foil hatters, gold-bugs, and Right-wing survivalists drool about. In fact, most sensible people don’t even bother arguing the issue at all—everyone knows that only fools bother arguing with a bigger fool. 

A minority, though—and God bless ’em—actually do go ahead and go through the motions of talking to the crazies ranting about hyperinflation. These amiable souls diligently point out that in a deflationary environment—where commodity prices are more or less stable, there are downward pressures on wages, asset prices are falling, and credit markets are shrinking—inflation is impossible. Therefore, hyperinflation is even more impossible. 

This outlook seems sensible—if we fall for the trap of thinking that hyperinflation is an extention of inflation. If we think that hyperinflation is simply inflation on steroids—inflation-plus—inflation with balls—then it would seem to be the case that, in our current deflationary economic environment, hyperinflation is not simply a long way off, but flat-out ridiculous. 

But hyperinflation is not an extension or amplification of inflation. Inflation and hyperinflation are two very distinct animals. They look the same—because in both cases, the currency loses its purchasing power—but they are not the same. 

Inflation is when the economy overheats: It’s when an economy’s consumables (labor and commodities) are so in-demand because of economic growth, coupled with an expansionist credit environment, that the consumables rise in price. This forces all goods and services to rise in price as well, so that producers can keep up with costs. It is essentially a demand-driven phenomena. 

Hyperinflation is the loss of faith in the currency. Prices rise in a hyperinflationary environment just like in an inflationary environment, but they rise not because people want more money for their labor or for commodities, but because people are trying to get out of the currency. It’s not that they want more money—they want less of the currency: So they will pay anything for a good which is not the currency. 

Right now, the U.S. government is indebted to about 100% of GDP, with a yearly fiscal deficit of about 10% of GDP, and no end in sight. For its part, the Federal Reserve is purchasing Treasuries, in order to finance the fiscal shortfall, both directly (the recently unveiled QE-lite) and indirectly (through the Too Big To Fail banks). The Fed is satisfying two objectives: One, supporting the government in its efforts to maintain aggregate demand levels, and two, supporting asset prices, and thereby prevent further deflationary erosion. The Fed is calculating that either path—increase in aggregate demand levels or increase in aggregate asset values—leads to the same thing: A recovery in the economy. 

This recovery is not going to happen—that’s the news we’ve been getting as of late. Amid all this hopeful talk about “avoiding a double-dip”, it turns out that we didn’t avoid a double-dip—we never really managed to claw our way out of the first dip. No matter all the stimulus, no matter all the alphabet-soup liquidity windows over the past 2 years, the inescapable fact is that the economy has been—and is headed—down.

But both the Federal government and the Federal Reserve are hell-bent on using the same old tired tools to “fix the economy”—stimulus on the one hand, liquidity injections on the other. (See my discussion of The Deficit here.)

It’s those very fixes that are pulling us closer to the edge. Why? Because the economy is in no better shape than it was in September 2008—and both the Federal Reserve and the Federal government have shot their wad. They got nothin’ left, after trillions in stimulus and trillions more in balance sheet expansion—

—but they have accomplished one thing: They have undermined Treasuries. These policies have turned Treasuries into the spit-and-baling wire of the U.S. financial system—they are literally the only things holding the whole economy together.

In other words, Treasuries are now the New and Improved Toxic Asset. Everyone knows that they are overvalued, everyone knows their yields are absurd—yet everyone tiptoes around that truth as delicately as if it were a bomb. Which is actually what it is. 

So this is how hyperinflation will happen: 

One day—when nothing much is going on in the markets, but general nervousness is running like a low-grade fever (as has been the case for a while now)—there will be a commodities burp: A slight but sudden rise in the price of a necessary commodity, such as oil.

This will jiggle Treasury yields, as asset managers will reduce their Treasury allocations, and go into the pressured commodity, in order to catch a profit. (Actually it won’t even be the asset managers—it will be their programmed trades.) These asset managers will sell Treasuries because, effectively, it’s become the principal asset they have to sell. 

It won’t be the volume of the sell-off that will pique Bernanke and the drones at the Fed—it will be the timing. It’ll happen right before a largish Treasury auction. So Bernanke and the Fed will buy Treasuries, in an effort to counteract the sell-off and maintain low yields—they want to maintain low yields in order to discourage deflation. But they’ll also want to keep the Treasury cheaply funded. QE-lite has already set the stage for direct Fed buys of Treasuries. The world didn’t end. So the Fed will feel confident as it moves forward and nips this Treasury yield jiggle in the bud. 

The Fed’s buying of Treasuries will occur in such a way that it will encourage asset managers to dump even more Treasuries into the Fed’s waiting arms. This dumping of Treasuries won’t be out of fear, at least not initially. Most likely, in the first 15 minutes or so of this event, the sell-off in Treasuries will be orderly, and carried out with the idea (at the time) of picking up those selfsame Treasuries a bit cheaper down the line. 

However, the Fed will interpret this sell-off as a run on Treasuries. The Fed is already attuned to the bond markets’ fear that there’s a “Treasury bubble”. So the Fed will open its liquidity windows, and buy up every Treasury in sight, precisely so as to maintain “asset price stability” and “calm the markets”. 

The Too Big To Fail banks will play a crucial part in this game. See, the problem with the American Zombies is, they weren’t nationalized. They got the best bits of nationalization—total liquidity, suspension of accounting and regulatory rules—but they still get to act under their own volition, and in their own best interest. Hence their obscene bonuses, paid out in the teeth of their practical bankruptcy. Hence their lack of lending into the weakened economy. Hence their hoarding of bailout monies, and predatory business practices. They’ve understood that, to get that sweet bail-out money (and those yummy bonuses), they have had to play the Fed’s game and buy up Treasuries, and thereby help disguise the monetization of the fiscal debt that has been going on since the Fed began purchasing the toxic assets from their balance sheets in 2008. 

But they don’t have to do what the Fed tells them, much less what the Treasury tells them. Since they weren’t really nationalized, they’re not under anyone’s thumb. They can do as they please—and they have boatloads of Treasuries on their balance sheets. 

So the TBTF banks, on seeing this run on Treasuries, will add to the panic by acting in their own best interests: They will be among the first to step off Treasuries. They will be the bleeding edge of the wave. 

Here the panic phase of the event begins: Asset managers—on seeing this massive Fed buy of Treasuries, and the American Zombies selling Treasuries, all of this happening within days of a largish Treasury auction—will dump their own Treasuries en masse. They will be aware how precarious the U.S. economy is, how over-indebted the government is, how U.S. Treasuries look a lot like Greek debt. They’re not stupid: Everyone is aware of the idea of a “Treasury bubble” making the rounds. A lot of people—myself included—think that the Fed, the Treasury and the American Zombies are colluding in a triangular trade in Treasury bonds, carrying out a de facto Stealth Monetization: The Treasury issues the debt to finance fiscal spending, the TBTF banks buy them, with money provided to them by the Fed.

Whether it’s true or not is actually beside the point—there is the widespread perception that that is what’s going on. In a panic, widespread perception is your trading strategy.

So when the Fed begins buying Treasuries full-blast to prop up their prices, these asset managers will all decide, “Time to get out of Dodge—now.”

Note how it will not be China or Japan who all of a sudden decide to get out of Treasuries—those two countries will actually be left holding the bag. Rather, it will be American and (depending on the time of day when the event happens) European asset managers who get out of Treasuries first. It will be a flash panic—much like the flash-crash of last May. The events I describe above will happen in a very short span of time—less than an hour, probably. But unlike the event in May, there will be no rebound. 

Notice, too, that Treasuries will maintain their yields in the face of this sell-off, at least initially. Why? Because the Fed, so determined to maintain “price stability”, will at first prevent yields from widening—which is precisely why so many will decide to sell into the panic: The Bernanke Backstop won’t soothe the markets—rather, it will make it too tempting not to sell.

The first of the asset managers or TBTF banks who are out of Treasuries will look for a place to park their cash—obviously. Where will all this ready cash go?

Commodities. 

By the end of that terrible day, commodites of all stripes—precious and industrial metals, oil, foodstuffs—will shoot the moon. But it will not be because ordinary citizens have lost faith in the dollar (that will happen in the days and weeks ahead)—it will happen because once Treasuries are not the sure store of value, where are all those money managers supposed to stick all these dollars? In a big old vault? Under the mattress? In euros?

Commodities: At the time of the panic, commodities will be perceived as the only sure store of value, if Treasuries are suddenly anathema to the market—just as Treasuries were perceived as the only sure store of value, once so many of the MBS’s and CMBS’s went sour in 2007 and 2008. 

It won’t be commodity ETF’s, or derivatives—those will be dismissed (rightfully) as being even less safe than Treasuries. Unlike before the Fall of ’08, this go-around, people will pay attention to counterparty risk. So the run on commodities will be for actual, feel-it-’cause-it’s-there commodities. By the end of the day of this panic, commodities will have risen between 50% and 100%. By week’s end, we’re talking 150% to 250%. (My private guess is gold will be finessed, but silver will shoot up the most—to $100 an ounce within the week.)

Of course, once commodities start to balloon, that’s when ordinary citizens will get their first taste of hyperinflation. They’ll see it at the gas pumps. 

If oil spikes from $74 to $150 in a day, and then to $300 in a matter of a week—perfectly possible, in the midst of a panic—the gallon of gasoline will go to, what: $10? $15? $20?

So what happens then? People—regular Main Street people—will be crazy to buy up commodities (heating oil, food, gasoline, whatever) and buy them now while they are still more-or-less affordable, rather than later, when that $15 gallon of gas shoots to $30 per gallon. 
 
If everyone decides at roughly the same time to exchange one good—currency—for another good—commodities—what happens to the relative price of one and the relative value of the other? Easy: One soars, the other collapses.

When people freak out and begin panic-buying basic commodities, their ordinary financial assets—equities, bonds, etc.—will collapse: Everyone will be rushing to get cash, so as to turn around and buy commodities.

So immediately after the Treasury markets tank, equities will fall catastrophically, probably within the next few days following the Treasury panic. This collapse in equity prices will bring an equivalent burst in commodity prices—the second leg up, if you will. 
 
This sell-off of assets in pursuit of commodities will be self-reinforcing: There won’t be anything to stop it. As it spills over into the everyday economy, regular people will panic and start unloading hard assets—durable goods, cars and trucks, houses—in order to get commodities, principally heating oil, gas and foodstuffs. In other words, real-world assets will not appreciate or even hold their value, when the hyperinflation comes.

This is something hyperinflationist-skeptics never quite seem to grasp: In hyperinflation, asset prices don’t skyrocket—they collapse, both nominally and in relation to consumable commodities. A $300,000 house falls to $60,000 or less, or better yet, 50 ounces of silver—because in a hyperinflationist episode, a house is worthless, whereas 50 bits of silver can actually buy you stuff you might need.

Right now, I’m guessing that sensible people who’ve read this far are dismissing me as being full of shit—or at least victim of my own imagination. These sensible people, if they deign to engage in the scenario I’ve outlined above, will argue that the government—be it the Fed or the Treasury or a combination thereof—will find a way to stem the panic in Treasuries (if there ever is one), and put a stop to hyperinflation (if such a foolish and outlandish notion ever came to pass in America). 
 
Uh-huh: So the Government will save us, is that it? Okay, so then my question is, How? 

Let’s take the Fed: How could they stop a run on Treasuries? Answer: They can’t. See, the Fed has already been shoring up Treasuries—that was their strategy in 2008—’09: Buy up toxic assets from the TBTF banks, and have them turn around and buy Treasuries instead, all the while carefully monitoring Treasuries for signs of weakness. If Treasuries now turn toxic, what’s the Fed supposed to do? Bernanke long ago ran out of ammo: He’s just waving an empty gun around. If there’s a run on Treasuries, and he starts buying them to prop them up, it’ll only give incentive to other Treasury holders to get out now while the getting’s still good. If everyone decides to get out of Treasuries, then Bernanke and the Fed can do absolutely nothing effective. They’re at the mercy of events—in fact, they have been for quite a while already. They just haven’t realized it. 

Well if the Fed can’t stop this, how about the Federal government—surely they can stop this, right? 

In a word, no. They certainly lack the means to prevent a run on Treasuries. And as to hyperinflation, what exactly would the Federal government do to stop it? Implement price controls? That will only give rise to a rampant black market. Put soldiers out on the street? America is too big. Squirt out more “stimulus”? Sure, pump even more currency into a rapidly hyperinflating everyday economy—right . . . 

(BTW, I actually think that this last option is something the Federal government might be foolish enough to try. Some moron like Palin or Biden might well advocate this idea of helter-skelter money-printing so as to “help all hard-working Americans”. And if they carried it out, this would bring us American-made images of people using bundles of dollars to feed their chimneys. I actually don’t think that politicians are so stupid as to actually start printing money to “fight rising prices”—but hey, when it comes to stupidity, you never know how far they can go.)

In fact, the only way the Federal government might be able to ameliorate the situation is if it decided to seize control of major supermarkets and gas stations, and hand out cupon cards of some sort, for basic staples—in other words, food rationing. This might prevent riots and protect the poor, the infirm and the old—it certainly won’t change the underlying problem, which will be hyperinflation. 

“This is all bloody ridiculous,” I can practically hear the hyperinflation skeptics fume. “We’re just going through what the Japanese experienced: Just like the U.S., they went into massive government stimulus—hell, they invented quantitative easing—and look what’s happened to them: Stagnation, yes—hyperinflation, no.”

That’s right: The parallels with Japan are remarkably similar—except for one key difference. Japanese sovereign debt is infinitely more stable than America’s, because in Japan, the people are savers—they own the Japanese debt. In America, the people are broke, and the Nervous Nelly banks own the debt. That’s why Japanese sovereign debt is solid, whereas American Treasuries are soap-bubble-fragile. 

That’s why I think there’ll be hyperinflation in America—that bubble’s soon to pop. I’m guessing if it doesn’t happen this fall, it’ll happen next fall, without question before the end of 2011. 
 
The question for us now—ad portas to this hyperinflationary event—is, what to do?

Neanderthal survivalists spend all their time thinking about post-Apocalypse America. The real trick, however, is to prepare for after the end of the Apocalypse. 

The first thing to realize, of course, is that hyperinflation might well happen—but it will end. It won’t be a never-ending situation—America won’t end up like in some post-Apocalyptic, Mad Max: Beyond Thuderdome industrial wasteland/playground. Admittedly, that would be cool, but it’s not gonna happen—that’s just survivalist daydreams. 

Instead, after a spell of hyperinflation, America will end up pretty much like it is today—only with a bad hangover. Actually, a hyperinflationist spell might be a good thing: It would finally clean out all the bad debts in the economy, the crap that the Fed and the Federal government refused to clean out when they had the chance in 2007–’09. It would break down and reset asset prices to more realistic levels—no more $12 million one-bedroom co-ops on the UES. And all in all, a hyperinflationist catastrophe might in the long run be better for the health of the U.S. economy and the morale of the American people, as opposed to a long drawn-out stagnation. Ask the Japanese if they would have preferred a couple-three really bad years, instead of Two Lost Decades, and the answer won’t be surprising. But I digress. 

Like Rothschild said, “Buy when there’s blood on the streets.” The thing to do to prepare for hyperinflation would be to invest in a diversified hard-metal basket before the event—no equities, no ETF’s, no derivatives. If and when hyperinflation happens, and things get bad (and I mean really bad), take that hard-metal basket and—right in the teeth of the crisis—buy residential property, as well as equities in long-lasting industries; mining, pharma and chemicals especially, but no value-added companies, like tech, aerospace or industrials. The reason is, at the peak of hyperinflation, the most valuable assets will be dirt-cheap—especially equities—especially real estate.

I have no idea what will happen after we reach the point where $100 is no longer enough to buy a cup of coffee—but I do know that, after such a hyperinflationist period, there’ll be a “new dollar” or some such, with a few zeroes knocked off the old dollar, and things will slowly get back to a new normal. I have no idea the shape of that new normal. I wouldn’t be surprised if that new normal has a quasi or de facto dictatorship, and certainly some form of wage-and-price controls—I’d say it’s likely, but for now that’s not relevant. 

What is relevant is, the current situation cannot long continue. The Global Depression we are in is being exacerbated by the very measures being used to fix it—stimulus is putting pressure on Treasuries, which are being shored up by the Fed. This obviously cannot have a happy ending. Therefore, the smart money prepares for what it believes is going to happen next. 

I think we’re going to have hyperinflation. I hope I have managed to explain why.

Hyperinflation, Part II: What It Will Look Like

I usually don’t do follow-up pieces to any of my posts. But my recent longish piece, describing how hyperinflation might happen in the United States, clearly struck a nerve. 

It was a long, boring, snowy piece of macro-economic policy speculation, discussing Treasury yields, Federal Reserve Board monetary reaction, and the difference between inflation and hyperinflation—but considering the traffic it generated, I might as well been discussing relative breast size in the porn industry. With pictures. 


Essentially, I argued that Treasury bonds are the New and Improved Toxic Assets. I argued that, if there was a run on Treasuries, the Federal Reserve—in its anti-deflationary zeal, and its efforts to prop up bond market prices—would over-react, and set off a run on commodities. This, I argued, would trigger hyperinflation. 
 
The disproportionate attention my post garnered is indicative of people’s current fears. As I’ve said before, people aren’t blind or stupid, even if they often act that way. People are worried—they’re worried about the current state of affairs: Massive quantitative easing, toxic assets replaced by the full faith and credit of the U.S. government in the shape of Treasuries, fiscal debt which cannot possibly be repaid, a second leg down in the Global Depression that seems endless and only getting worse—people are scared. Many readers gave me quite a bit of useful feedback, critiques, suggestions and comments on the piece—clearly, what I was discussing touched on a deeply felt concern. 

However, there were two issues that many readers had a hard time wrapping their minds around, with regards to a hyperinflationary event: 
 
The first was, Where does all the money come from, for hyperinflation to happen? The question wasn’t put as baldly as that—it was wrapped up in sophisticated discussions about M1, M2 and M3 money supply, as well as clever talk about the velocity of money—the acceleration of money—the anti-lock brakes on money. There were even equations thrown around, for good measure. 

But stripped of all the high-falutin’ language, the question was, “Where’s all the dough gonna come from?” After all, as we know from our history books, hyperinflation involves people hoisting bundles and bundles of high-denomination bills which aren’t worth a damn, and tossing them into the chimney—’cause the bundles of cash are cheaper than firewood. If the dollar were to crash, where would all these bundles of $100 bills come from?
 
The second question was, Why will commodities rise, while equities, real estate and other assets fall? In other words, if there is an old fashioned run on a currency—in this case, the dollar, the world’s reserve currency—why would people get out of the dollar into commodities only, rather than into equities and real estate and other assets? 
  
In this post, I’m going to address both of these issues.
Apart from what happened with the Weimar Republic in the 1920’s, advanced Western economies have no experience with hyperinflation. (I actually think that the high inflation that struck the dollar in the 1970’s, and which was successfully choked off by Paul Volcker, was in fact an incipient bout of commodity-driven hyperinflation—but that’s for some other time.) Though there were plenty of hyperinflationary events in the XIX century and before, after the Weimar experience, the advanced economies learned their lesson—and learned it so well, in fact, that it’s been forgotten. 

However, my personal history gives me a slight edge in this discussion: During the period 1970–’73, Chile experienced hyperinflation, brought about by the failed and corrupt policies of Salvador Allende and his Popular Unity Government. Though I was too young to experience it first hand, my family and some of my older friends have vivid memories of the Allende period—vivid memories that are actually closer to nightmares. 

The causes of Chile’s hyperinflation forty years ago were vastly different from what I believe will cause American hyperinflation now. But a slight detour through this history is useful to our current predicament. 
 
To begin: In 1970, Salvador Allende was elected president by roughly a third of the population. The other two-thirds voted for the centrist Christian Democrat candidate, or for the center-right candidate in roughly equal measure. Allende’s election was a fluke. 

He wasn’t a centrist, no matter what the current hagiography might claim: Allende was a hard-core Socialist, who headed a Hard Left coalition called the Unidad Popular—the Popular Unity (UP, pronounced “oo-peh”). This coalition—Socialists, Communists, and assorted Left parties—took over the administration of the country, and quickly implemented several “reforms”, which were designed to “put Chile on the road to Socialism”. 
 
Land was expropriated—often by force—and given to the workers. Companies and mines were also nationalized, and also given to the workers. Of course, the farms, companies and mines which were stripped from their owners weren’t inefficient or ineptly run—on the contrary, Allende and his Unidad Popular thugs stole farms, companies and mines from precisely the “blood-thirsty Capitalists” who best treated their workers, and who were the most fair towards them. 
  
Allende’s government also put UP-loyalists in management positions in those nationalized enterprises—a first step towards implementing a Leninist regime, whereby the UP would have “political control” over the means of production and distribution. From speeches and his actions, it’s clear that Allende wanted to implement a Maoist-Leninist regime, with himself as Supreme Leader. 
 
One of the key policy initiative Allende carried out was wage and price controls. In order to appease and co-opt the workers, Allende’s regime simultaneously froze prices of basic goods and services, and augmented wages by decree. 
 
At first, this measure worked like a charm: Workers had more money, but goods and services still had the same old low prices. So workers were happy with Allende: They went on a shopping spree—and rapidly emptied stores and warehouses of consumer goods and basic products. Allende and the UP Government then claimed it was right-wing, anti-Revolutionary “acaparadores”—hoarders—who were keeping consumer goods from the workers. Right. 
  
Meanwhile, private companies—forced to raise worker wages while maintaining their same price structures—quickly went bankrupt: So then, of course, they were taken over by the Allende government, “in the name of the people”. Key industries were put on the State dole, as it were, and made to continue their operations at a loss, so as to satisfy internal demand. If there was a cash shortfall, the Allende government would simply print more escudos and give them to the now State-controlled companies, which would then pay the workers. 

This is how hyperinflation started in Chile. Workers had plenty of cash in hand—but it was useless, because there were no goods to buy. 
 
So Allende’s government quickly instituted the Juntas de Abastecimiento y Control de Precios (“Unions of Supply and Price Controls”, known as JAP). These were locally formed boards, composed of loyal Party members, who decided who in a given neighborhood received consumer products, and who did not. Naturally, other UP-loyalists had preference—these Allende backers received ration cards, with which to buy consumer goods and basic staples. 
 
Of course, those people perceived as “unfriendly” to Allende and the UP Government either received insufficient rations for their families, or no rations at all, if they were vocally opposed to the Allende regime and its policies. 
 
Very quickly, a black market in goods and staples arose. At first, these black markets accepted escudos. But with each passing month, more and more escudos were printed into circulation by the Allende government, until by late ’72, black marketeers were no longer accepting escudos. Their mantra became, “Sólo dólares”: Only dollars. 
  
Hyperinflation had arrived in Chile. 
  
(Most Chileans, myself included, find ourselves both amused and irritated, whenever Americans self-righteously claim that Nixon ruined Chile’s economy, and thereby derailed Allende’s “Socialist dream”. Yes, according to Kissinger’s memoirs, Nixon did in fact tell the CIA that he wanted Chile’s economy to “scream”—but Allende did such a bang-up job of fucking up Chile’s economy all on his own that, by the time Richard Helms got around to implementing his pissant little plots against the Chilean economy, there was not much left to ruin.)
 
One of the effects of Chile’s hyperinflation was the collapse in asset prices. 
 
This would seem counterintuitive. After all, if the prices of consumer goods and basic staples are rising in a hyperinflationary environment, then asset prices should rise as well—right? Equities should rise in price—since more money is chasing after the same number of stock. Real estate prices should rise also—and for the same reason. Right?
 
Actually, wrong—and for a simple reason: Once basic necessities are unmet, and remain unmet for a sustained period of time, any asset will be willingly and instantly sacrificed, in order to meet that basic need. 
  
To put it in simple terms: If you were dying of thirst in the middle of the desert, would you give up your family heirloom diamonds, in exchange for a gallon of water? The answer is obvious—yes. You would sacrifice anything and everyting—instantly—in order to meet your basic needs, or those of your family. 

So as the situation in Chile deteriorated in ’72 and into ’73, the stock market collapsed, the housing market collapsed—everything collapsed, as people either cashed out of their assets in order to buy basic goods and staples on the black market, or cashed out so as to leave the country altogether. No asset class was safe, from this sell-off—it was across-the-board, and total. 

Now let’s return to the possibility of hyperinflation in the United States:

If there were a sudden collapse in the Treasury bond market, I argued that sellers would take their cash and put them into commodities. My reasoning was, they would seek a sure store of value. If Treasury bonds ceased to be that store of value, then people would invest in the next best thing, which would be commodities, especially precious and industrial metals, as well as oil—in other words, non-perishable commodities. 

Some people argued this point with me. They argued many different approaches to the problem, but essentially, it all boiled down to the argument that commodities and precious metals have no intrinsic value. 

Actually, I think they’re right. In a strict sense, only oxygen, food and water have intrinsic value to human beings—everything else is superfluous. Therefore the value of everything else is arbitrary. 
  
Yet both gold and silver have, historically, been considered valuable. Setting aside a theoretical or mathematical construct that would justify the value of gold and silver, look at it from a practical standpoint: If I went to a farmer with five ounces of silver, would he give me a sack of grain? Probably. If I offered him an ounce of gold for two or three pigs, would he give them to me? Again, probably. 
  
Where there is a human society, there is a need to exchange. Where there is a need to exchange, a medium of exchange will soon appear. Gold and silver (and copper and brass and other metals) have served that purpose for literally millennia, but then they were replaced by paper. 
  
Right now, there are two forms of paper currency: Actual dollars, and Treasury bonds. One is a medium of exchange, the other a store of value. 

If Treasuries—the store of value—were to collapse in price, and the Fed—as I predict—tried everything in its power to at least initially prop up their prices, would those sellers who managed to get out of Treasuries in time then turn around and invest in even dodgier bits of paper, like stocks? Or REIT’s? Or even precious metal ETF’s?

No they would not: They would get out of Treasuries—supposedly the “safest” investment there is—and get into something even safersomething even more tangible: Actual commodities. Not ETF’s, not even futures (or anything else that entails counterparty risk)—sellers of Treasuries would get into actual, hard commodities. Because if suddenly even the safest of all investment vehicles is now unsafe, do you really want to get behind the wheel of an even more unsafe vehicle, like stocks or corporate bonds or ETF’s? I mean, c’mon: If Treasuries crash, what else might crash?

That’s why people in a Treasury panic would buy commodities. This ballooning of non-perishable commodities would be as a means to store value. Because that’s what people do in a panic—they batten down the hatches, and go into what’s safest. When the stock markets tanked in the Fall of ’08, where did all that sellers’ cash go? To Treasuries—because it was then considered the safest store of value. Commodities suffered in comparison—gold took a bit of a hit, as did the other precious metals—but Treasuries ballooned as the equities markets tanked. 
  
But if Treasuries—the ultimate store of value—now tanked? If the last sure-thing in paper-based stores of value took a hit, where would people go to both store value, and have ready access to that value? 

Commodities. And this rush to commodities, I argued, would trigger hyperinflation. 

Now, I said I would answer two questions—one was why commodities would outpace all other asset classes in a Treasury panic and subsequent hyperinflation. The other question was, “Where’s all the dough to feed my fireplace gonna come from, in a hyperinflationary event?”

The first wave of dollars in a hyperinflationary event will come from people’s savings accounts. 

If Treasuries tank, and the markets all barrel into commodities, then prices will rise for regular consumers—this should not be a controversial inference. What would consumers do, with suddenly much higher gas prices, and soon much higher food prices? Simple: They’ll bust open their piggy banks, whatsoever those piggy banks might happen to be: 401(k)s, whatever equities they might have, etc. 

But if the higher consumer prices continue—or become worse—what will happen to the 320 million American consumers? They’ll start buying more gas now, rather than wait around for tomorrow—and the market will react to this. How? Two way: Prices of commodities will rise even further—and asset prices will fall even lower. 

Again, the man in the desert, the diamonds, and the water: If American consumers are getting hit at the gas station and the supermarket, they’ll start selling everything so as to buy gas, heating oil (most especially) and foodstuffs. The Treasury panic will thus be transfered to the average consumer—from Wall Street to Main Street by way of $15 a gallon gas prices, and $10 a gallon heating oil prices. 

All other consumer prices would soon follow the leads of gas, heating oil and food. 

In the above bit of Chilean history, I described how the Allende government printed up escudos to make up for the shortfall in nationalized businesses that was produced by their policy of hiking wages, while at the same time fixing prices. 

This is a completely different way to hyperinflation than the way I envision it for the American economy—but once the American economy gets there, the effects of hyperinflation will be exactly the same: People will try to get out of assets in order to get hold of commodities. To get all eccy about it, money velocity would approach infinity, as money supply remains (at first) fixed, yet in the panic over commodities, aggregate demand as measured by aggregate transactions goes vertical. 

Would there be Federal government intervention of some sort? Most definitely—people would be screaming for it. Would food rationing be implemented? Probably, and probably by way of the current Food Stamps program. Troops on the streets, protecting gas stations and supermarkets? Curfews to prevent looting? Palliative dollar printing? Yes, yes, and very likely yes. 

That last bit—palliative dollar-printing: That’s the key. When palliative dollar-printing happens, it will be the final stages of hyperinflation—it’s when sensible people ought to realize that the crisis is almost over, and that a new normal will soon appear. But this stage will be fucking awful

Palliative dollar printing will take place when the Federal government simply runs out of options. Smart economists will get on CNBC and argue that, “The velocity of money is destroying the economy—we must expand the currency base!” It’ll sound logical, but palliative money-printing will be a policy option born out of panic. The final policy option. It won’t be done for evil conspiratorial reasons—always remember Aphorism #6 (“Never ascribe to malice what can be explained by incompetence.”). It’ll be carried out because of fear and panic. 

A whole boatload of fools in Washington, on seeing this terrible commodity-driven crisis unfold, with consumer prices shooting the moon, will scream for dollars to be printed—and their rationale will be perfectly reasonable, I can practically hear it now: “We've got to get cash into the hands of the average American citizen, so he or she can buy food and heating oil for their families! We can’t let Americans starve and freeze to death!”

Palliative money-printing will take place—hence the average American family will likely be using bundles of $100 bills to fire up the chimney that hyperinflationary winter.

Hoo-Ah

Now, this fairly Apocalyptic scenario is simultaneously horrifying, and exciting as all get out. Hell, why do you think disaster movies are so popular? Shit blowing up is way cool! That's why Roland Emmerich gets paid the big bucks, God bless ‘im. 

But for sensible people, Apocalypse is a distraction—it’s not the main event. For sensible people who want to be prepared, Apocalypse represents opportunities. 
 
A true story: In ’73, at the height of the Allende-created hyperinflation, an uncle of mine, who was then a college student, was offered an apartment in exchange for his car. That’s right—an apartment. He owned a crappy little Fiat 147—a POS if ever there was such a thing—but cars in Chile in the middle of that hyperinflation were so scarce, and considered so valuable, that he was offered an apartment in exchange. To this day, my uncle still tells the story—with deep regret, because he didn’t follow through on the offer: “That Fiat was in the junkyard by ’78, but that apartment still stands! And today it’s worth nearly a half a million dollars!” Actually, I think it’s worth a bit more than that. 

Another true story: A banker friend of mine manages the assets of a fabulously wealthy 70-something gentleman, whom I'll call Alfredo. In 1973, Don Alfredo was a youngish man, just starting out, with a degree in engineering but no money—until he inherited US$3,000 from a deceased aunt. Alfredo realized that the $3,000 were in a sense worthless: He couldn’t buy anything with them, and it wasn’t enough for him to leave the country and start over someplace else. After all, even then, $3,000 was not that much money. 

So he took those $3,000, went down to the stock exchange, and spent all of it on Chilean blue-chip companies: Mining companies, chemical companies, paper companies, and so on. The stock were selling for nothing—less than penny stock—because of the disastrous policies of the Allende government. His stock broker at the time told him not to buy stocks, as Allende’s government, it was thought, would soon nationalize these companies as well. 
  
Alfredo ignored his broker, and went ahead with the stock purchases: He spent all of his $3,000 on buckets of near-worthless equities. 
  
On September 11, 1973, the commanders in chief of the four branches of the Chilean military staged a coup d’état. Within a year, Alfredo’s stock had rebounded about ten-fold. Since then, they’ve multiplied several thousand-fold—yes: Several thousand-fold. Don Alfredo has lived off of that $3,000 investment ever since—it’s what made him a multi-millionare today. 
  
He realized, of course, that either those blue-chip companies would be nationalized by Allende—in which case he would lose all his $3,000 inheritance, which really wouldn’t change his fortunes very much—or somehow a new normal would arrive in Chile. Since the $3,000 couldn’t buy him anything, he took a gamble—and won. 
  
What do these two true stories tell us? Simple: Buy when there’s blood on the streets
  
That’s Baron de Rothschild’s famous line—but it hides a key insight, one which should be highlighted perhaps even more forcefully than the line itself: 
  
Even in the midst of Apocalypse, things will get better. 
  
That’s something people don’t quite seem to understand. In fact, it’s why teenagers tragically kill themselves over some girl or boy: They don’t realize that, no matter how bad things are now, they will get better later. To repeat: 

Even in the midst of Apocalypse, things will get better. 
  
I’m not repeating this insight as an empty comfort to my readers—I’m saying it as a trading strategy. When things are at their crazy worst, when everyone believes the Apocalypse is well nigh here, that’s when thing are about to turn for the better. This applies to every situation—including and most especially in a hyperinflationary situation. 

Why? Simple: Because hyperinflation—by definition—cannot last. Because people need a stable medium of exchange. So if the currency goes up in flames in a hyperinflationary fire, of course there will be a period of terrifying instability—but it will pass. Either the currency will be repaired somehow (as Volcker repaired the dollar back in 1980–’82). Or the currency will be completely and irrevocably trashed—and then be replaced by something else. Because—to insist—people need a stable medium of exchange

If Treasuries tank and commodities shoot up so high that they essentially break the dollar, civilization will not come crashing down into anarchy. At worst, there’ll be a three-four years of hell—economic hell. Financial hell. But then things will settle down into a new normal. 

This new normal might well have unsavory characteristics. I tend to be a pessimist, and just glancing through history, I can see that just about every period of hyperinflation has been stabilized by some subsequent form of autocratic or totalitarian government. The United States currently has all the legal decisions and practical devices to quickly transition into an authoritarian or totalitarian regime, should a crisis befall the nation: The so-called PATRIOT Acts, the Department of Homeland Security Agency, the practical suspension of habeas corpus, etc., etc. 

But as I said in my previous post, and reiterate here: Speculations about the new normal are pointless at this time. The future will happen soon enough. 

What I do know is, One, a hyperinflationary event will happen, following the crash in Treasuries. Two, commodities will be the go-to medium for value storage. Three, all asset classes will collapse in short order. And Four—and most importantly—civil society will not collapse along with the dollar. Civil society will stumble about like a drunken sailor, but eventually right itself and carry on with a new normal. 

During that stumble, opportunities will present themselves. I hope I have explained why.

A Termite-Riddled House: Treasury Bonds

  
When termites eat your house, you don’t notice a thing. You don’t hear a thing, you don’t see a thing—you’re house stands there, silent and staid, while you and your family happily go about your days, without a care in the world—
  
—until your house crashes on top of your head.
  
Right now, we are at a stage where Treasury bonds are as weakened as a termite-riddled house. They look fine: Nice glossy coat of paint, pretty shingles, bright clear windows, sturdy-looking plankings on the open-aired porch. 
  
But Treasuries are well on their way to a complete collapse. Why? Because of the way they have been mishandled and mistreated by the Federal Reserve Board, and the U.S. Treasury. Whether by incompetence or by design, U.S. Treasury bonds have become the New & Improved Toxic Asset. The question is no longer if they will collapse—it’s when. 
  
Let me explain why. 

  
First of all, what exactly were Toxic Assets—does anybody remember? I do: They were bonds made out of bundles of dodgy real estate deals. They didn’t seem dodgy at the time. What’s that old expression, “safe as houses”? At the time they were made, those bonds seemed safe as houses. Now we call them “Toxic Assets”—because now, we know better. But back then—before they collapsed—they were called “Mortgage Backed Securites”, or “Commercial Mortgage Backed Securites”, or else “Collateralized Debt Obligations”. 
  
Essentially, all these sophisticated-sounding terms were to emphasize that the bonds were secured loans—the houses and commercial real estate were supposed to back up these debts. If the payments failed, the properties could be confiscated and auctioned off. So the bonds would be repaid. So the bonds were safe—safe as houses. Or so it was thought. 
  
Of course, we saw how that show ended. 
  
For those who missed those exciting episodes, a recap: Sub-prime mortgages began to default first, as the economy slowed down. This in theory should not have affected Mortgage Backed Securities based on those sub-prime loans. But the real estate which had been purchased with sub-primes weren’t worth what they had been purchased for—they were worth much less. So the bonds backed by the sub-prime loans began to explode. 
  
Soon after the sub-primes, alt-A loans and prime loans, and finally commercial real estate—their prices all began to collapse, and so the bonds manufactured out of these loans also began to explode. 
  
All those banks holding all those “safe as houses” MBS’s and CMBS’s and assorted CDO’s all of a sudden found that those bits of paper were not safe as houses. They were so un-safe in fact, that the banks damned near went broke—they would have, too, if it hadn’t been for the Fed and the Treasury, who bailed them out: The Treasury with TARP (cash), the Fed with “liquidity windows” (more cash). 
  
But even that didn’t work—so we got “extend & pretend”, whereby the accounting rules were suspended in order to create the illusion of solvency among the TBTF (Too Big To Fail) banks. (My discussion of that is here.) That’s how bad the Toxic Assets were.
  
The reason these debts became “toxic” was that it became obvious in 2007–’08 that those bonds would never be repaid. They couldn’t be repaid: The properties which backstopped the value of the bonds had fallen irretrievably in price—or more properly, the real estate bubble which had goosed the valuation of those properties to absurd, Tulipmania levels had finally burst. 
  
So even if the real estate was foreclosed and sold at auction, the holders of these now-Toxic Assets would only receive a fraction of the nominal price of the bonds. What had once been worth 100 was now worth 80, 60, 40, and in some cases, Cop Snacks. 
  
I’ve never liked the term “asset”, when discussing bonds. They’re not “assets”—they’re debt. They’re a loan. And a loan only has value so long as it’s being repaid. If the debtor defaults—or tries to pay back the loan with something of less valuable than what was originally lent out—then this “asset” becomes a loss. 
  
So to prevent these catastrophic losses, Backstop Benny—Ben Bernanke, Chairman of the Federal Reserve—essentially did the ol’ switcheroo on the Toxic Assets: In order to save the banks whose balance sheets depended so heavily on these now-dead turds, the Fed purchased the Toxic Assets at their nominal price. Then the banks—the so-called Too Big To Fail banks—took that cash and purchased U.S. Treasury bonds. 
  
I have yet to find a better chart than this one here, that describes so succinctly how the Fed expanded its balance sheet to bail out the banks. (Hat tip Ashley Huston at WSJ.com: Alex Lowe designed the chart, based on reporting by Phil Izzo—extra-special kudos to them both.) 
  
Meanwhile, the U.S. Treasury, in its attempts to finance bailouts, stimulus, health care, Social Security, and endless pointless wars, went into further debt—to the tune of $1.4 trillion dollars, roughly 10% of U.S. gross domestic product, for both 2009 and 2010. 
  
Or to put it another way—a very scary way—in both 2009 and what’s projected for 2010, the Federal government has issued $1 of Treasury debt for every $1 of tax receipts. Between the actual budget deficit, plus Social Security liabilities, the U.S. Federal government is in the hole for about $13.5 trillion—or roughly 100% of GDP: That is what the Federal government owes. And if 2011 continues to be the same (as is almost certainly to be the case), then another $1.5 trillion or so (give or take a couple of hundred billion dollars) will be added to that tab. 
  
All told, the United States will have a fiscal-debt-to-GDP ratio of 100% this year, and 110% next year—if not higher, depending on the tax receipts in 2011. A lot of wishful thinking is going on for 2012, but the way the numbers are playing out, another trillion dollars’ worth of debt is very likely in the offing—which would put the total fiscal-debt-to-GDP ration to 120%. 
  
(Funny: That number—120%—reminds me of something . . . what was it? Oh! Right! Greece! This past spring, Europe had a medium-sized meltdown when Greece—roughly 2% of the EU as measured by GDP—revealed it was running a 120% fiscal-debt-to-GDP ratio. The Europeans and the IMF finally caved and bailed out Greece. Ah, the Greeks! But I digress, sorry—after all, the United States is not Greece. The United States has absolutely nothing in common with Greece—not at all! First of all, buddy, and for your freakin’ information, the United States is roughly 45 times the size of Greece, and . . . oh . . . wait a sec . . . ) 
  
Let 2012 take care of 2012—right now, September 2010, we have 100% fiscal-debt-to-GDP, in an environment of falling tax receipts and more strains on the various social safety nets. Right now, we have debt matching tax receipts dollar-for dollar. Right now, the interest on the outstanding debt, for 2010 according to government projections, is $375 billion—in other words, 25¢ of every dollar of tax receipts goes to pay interest. Right now, with recent economic numbers, the likelihood of a turn-around are unlikely—so because of the inevitable political pressure come the winter, more “stimulus” is likely in the offing. 
  
Meaning more Treasury bonds, floating out into the market. 
  
But who is buying all this new Federal government debt? Why, that’s very simple: The Federal Reserve. 
  
The reason that the Federal government could go into the aforementioned massive spending spree was precisely because of the Federal Reserve’s bail-out: The Fed created money out of thin air (as is their power), in order to buy Toxic Assets from the Too Big To Fail banks. The banks, in turn, took this cash and bought Treasuries—which financed the Federal government’s deficit. 
  
This is what I call Stealth Monetization: Unlike in some banana republics, which dispense with the niceties and simply turn on the printing presses whenever they need more money to spend, the U.S. Federal government and the U.S. Federal Reserve got creative, and used the TBTF banks to essentially hide the monetization of the fiscal debt in plain sight. 
  
Many people complain that the bail-out money the TBTF banks received was never lent out—oh, but they’re wrong: The money was lent out. It was lent out to the Federal government.  
  
After all, what did the TBTF banks do, with all that cash they got from the Federal Reserve for unloading all those Toxic Assets? Why, they went and bought themselves boatloads of Treasury bonds. 
  
It’s been the Federal government that has been “mopping up excess liquidity”—mopping it up and spending it on stimulus that doesn’t work, wars that can’t be won, dodgy dinosaur-projects that aren’t going to do squat to improve people’s health. That’s why the TBTF haven’t been lending money to businesses and “getting the economy back on track”—they’ve been too busy lending to the Federal government. 
  
Clever people call Treasuries “assets”—but like I’ve said, I’m just stupid: I just call it debt. When I look at all this Federal government debt—unprecedented amounts of fiscal debt—I can’t help but notice that it is all unsecured—because it is unsecured. At least Toxic Assets had something backing them up, even if they were worth much less than advertised. Treasury bonds, on the other hand, are based only—solely—on the “full faith and credit” of the United States Federal government. 
  
Y’Know: The one in Washington. The same U.S. Federal government that is running 100% debt-to-GDP ratios this year, 110% next year, and likely 120% the year after that—if not more. 
  
Mm-hmm . . . 
  
What happens when a debtor becomes so over-extended that he cannot possibly pay back his loans? Naturally: They default—or they try to wriggle their way out of the debt, by giving you something less valuable than what you are owed. 
  
It is not controversial to say—and indeed, it is widely discussed—that the U.S. Treasury has only two options: Default on Treasury bonds, or debase the currency by way of inflation, so that the nominal value of Treasuries is stable, but their real value decays by inflationary attrition. 
  
Default is politically unacceptable—apart from pissing off foreign Treasury holders, it would cause havoc in America if the Federal government woke up one day, clapped its hands like a schoolmarm, and announced to the world, “Okay Treasury holders! Time for a haircut!” Default ain’t gonna happen. 
  
So that leaves “controlled” or “induced” inflation—the only method for the Federal government to get out from underneath this debt. 
  
Backstop Benny is doing his damnedest to bring about precisely this scenario: He is trying to print the economy out of this Global Depression. With QE, the recently anounced QE-lite, and the likely-to-be-coming-soon QE2, Bernanke is going to pump more and more money into the system—“Print ’til you puke!!” seems to be his motto. 
  
Bernanke is being egged on by everyone, from Paul Krugman to the Republicans to Larry Summers and Tim Geitner—everybody wants him to print more: Either because they want more fiscal spending (Krugman, et al.), or because they want asset prices to be pumped up again to unnatural highs (Wall Street and their Washington lackeys). 
  
And Benny is obliging. The way Bernanke is doing this printing is by buying Treasuries. The Federal Reserve buys Treasuries and squirts some more dollars into the system—just as he propped up the prices of Toxic Assets by buying them up, when there was the need. 
  
Yields of Treasuries are at absurd lows, there is a veritable T-bond rally every single day that equities drop even just a bit—in other words, Treasuries are in a bubble. Why? Because the market knows that Bernanke and the Fed will backstop Treasuries— 
  
—backstop them right off the cliff. 
  
The more the Fed prints, the more it encourages the Federal government to “stimulate”—id est, go further into debt in an attempt to grow the economy out of this Depression by way of fiscal spending. But as I said, right now, 25¢ of every dollar of tax receipts goes to pay interest on the fiscal debt. How long before 50¢ of every dollar goes to pay interest? 100¢ of every dollar? Is that when the fiscal debt finally becomes insurmountable? 
  
Or will there be a Moment of Clarity in the markets? Will there come a day when the bond markets collectively realize that Treasuries will never ever be repaid—cannot be repaid? And when that day comes, when that Moment of Clarity falls on the markets, will it spark a panic? 
  
In two previous posts, I essentially said “yes”: “Yes” to a collective Moment of Clarity, “yes” to a panic in Treasuries. I further argued that such a panic would lead—inexorably—to a flight to safety in actual, physical commodities, which would then result in a massive hyperinflation that would kill the dollar dead. Part I is here, Part II is here. 
  
What is most important is, I do not know when such a Moment of Clarity will occur—but I have no doubt that it will occur. Inevitably, unavoidably: Treasury bonds are bound to collapse, triggering the sequence of events that I have described. 
  
Plenty of people disagree with me. Actually, most people disagree with me. 
  
Weirdly, plenty of people told me in no uncertain terms that, not only would there never be a panic in Treasuries—these people claimed that there couldn’t be such a panic. A couple of these people claimed (I swear to God) that it was systemically impossible for there to be a panic in Treasuries—“Because the government can just print its way out of a panic!” 
  
Uh-huh. So no hyperinflation after a Treasury bond collapse, ’cause the government can—y’know—print all the money needed to shore up Treasuries and avoid hyperinflation. Okay. 
  
The people who defended this insane argument are under the spell of MMT—Modern Monetary Theory. It’s currently the most fashionable dismissal of the importance of Treasury over-extension. People in this camp effectively say, “Treasury debt doesn’t matter!”, and explain how government debt is basically a numbers game. 
  
According to this theory—which is just a modern-day retelling of the chartalist myth—all money is basically government chits, which are moved around within a game-board, said game-board being owned and controlled by the government. According to MMT, governments which issue their own currency may go into as much debt as they wish, certain and confident that nothing bad will happen because the government controls the currency. In other words, macroeconomically speaking, MMT claims that it’s a government’s world—we only live in it. 
  
My objection to this, in snooty eccy terminology: I think that these MMT macro-economic theorists are purveyors of an interesting new meta-neo-Keynesianist world-view. It seems they are employing a closed-system, zero-sum proto-monetarist model. This model—though compelling—does present certain structural issues and disappointing limitations, vis-à-vis the uses of a reserve currency, which might make the theory less than apropos, were it to face a real-world scenario. Or not. 
  
My objection to this, in just plain ol’ regular words? I think this MMT theory is full of shit, propagated by fucking idiots. 
  
MMT is just a clever way to justify insurmountable levels of fiscal debt—it’s a rationalization of this insurmountable debt, using a veneer of economic terminology to cloak the purveyors’ political ideology of spend!-spend!-spend!-your way out of a recession or depression: In other words, Keynesianism-redux. Keynesianism on steroids—Keynesianism gone fucking in-sane
  
(I’m going to write a detailed take-down of these MMT fools in a couple of weeks. But for now, let me limit myself to just a couple of paragraphs.) 
  
These irresponsible peddlers of MMT claptrap—because that’s what they are, irresponsible buffoons for peddling such irresponsible, arrogant bullshit—simply do not understand what money is: It is a medium of exchange. The government—which controls this medium of exchange, especially in a fiat currency—is supposed to be the honest broker between economic participants who use this medium of exchange for their transactions. 
  
A government issues the medium (the currency), and the government can debase it at will, for whatever reasons it deems worthy. But if the medium—the currency—is debased to a tipping point, then the economic participants will no longer believe in the currency’s worth. They will therefore run from the currency, and turn elsewhere to fulfill the need that money satisfies, which is: To store wealth, and to act as a medium of exchange. 
  
If the dollar and Treasury bonds are pushed hard enough—that is, debased hard enough—there will come a point where people will lose trust in them both, and not want them. It’s one thing if a currency organically inflates by way of ordinary demand on consumables and expansion of credit—that’s just normal fiat currency wear-and-tear. It’s quite another if economic parties realize that a government is deliberately trying to debase the currency, in order to get out from under insurmountable debt. 
  
If people no longer trust dollars as a medium of exchange and Treasuries as stores of value, where will they go? They will leave both and go to something else—commodities, as I have argued. And when that day comes, people will do anything to get out of the dollar and Treasuries, and into something that is stable in terms of value storage and medium of exchange. 
  
MMT doesn’t see this—it just sees spread-sheets and board-games. This story here, which giddily, girlishly describes Federal Reserve drones “printing money”—and how wonderful and magical that process is—is pretty indicative of the fundamental detachment from reality of this world-view. 
  
It’s why MMT fails at describing both reality, and predicting the future. It’s why—among other reasons, which I will discuss more fully in another post—MMT is a big ol’ steaming crock of shit. 
  
MMT is one theory as to why nothing bad will happen to Treasuries. 
  
The other theory—much more sensible, and backed up with empirical evidence—is what I’d call the Japan Is Us theory of Treasury bond stability. It’s the only truly serious challenge to the argument of Treasury bond collapse which I am arguing. Therefore, it’s a challenge that must be met. 
  
On the blogosphere, Michael “Mish” Shedlock is probably the smartest proponent of the Japan Is Us theory. 
  
I have a lot of respect for Mish—he was one of the very few serious commentators who argued that the U.S. economy was going to experience deflation. He argued that position literally years before it caught on. People now—in 3Q of 2010—are wising up to deflation. Because of Mish’s insights, I was on to deflation as of 3Q of 2008—and was fortunately able to plan accordingly. 
  
Mish also thinks I’m full of it, for claiming that there’ll be a Treasury bond collapse, commodity spike and then hyperinflation. 
  
His rationale is, we are experiencing deflation (which I agree). This deflation has been brought about by destruction of credit (check again), brought by the bursting of the housing bubble and the concomitant reduction in mortgages and loans (check once again). 
  
Mish further argues that, like Japan, the U.S. Federal government will spend-spend-spend on all sort of needless projects, but that the deflation is much stronger. Therefore, no matter how much the U.S. spends, there is no way to escape from a Japan-style Lost Decade (or two) of stagnant growth and systemic deflation. 
  
This is where we part company. 
  
Mish is convinced that through these deflationary years/decades, Treasuries will continue to be the only safe store of value. From a recent post, here’s a representative quote: 
  
I do think corporate bonds, especially most junk is playing for the greater fool. In regards to treasuries, there is going to be an exit problem for sure, but that could be years away. In Japan, yields stayed low for a decade. Why can't it happen here? 
  
Yields certainly might stay low for an extended period. Whether or not they do remains to be seen. 
  
(The underlining is mine.) 
  
Mish thinks that there’ll never be a Moment of Clarity, regarding Treasuries. He admits that there might be an “exit problem” in Treasuries, but vaguely posits that that might be “years away”. In the meantime, he thinks that Treasury yields will remain low, prices high (or go even higher), as companies and banks basically “keep money under the mattresses”. 
  
Mish has a good case in arguing for the Japan Is Us theory—but he is wrong, on two fronts. 
  
First, Mish doesn’t realize that Federal Governments’s deficit spending is rapidly approaching its limit. Because unlike Japan in 1990, when its deflationary death-spiral began, the U.S. Federal government started this depression already with a massive deficit. The eight years of Bush 43, to be precise, were all borrow-and-spend years: In those eight years, the fiscal deficit had already goosed the economy. 
  
That’s why the massive stimuls Obama implemented hasn’t really helped—the economy is already hung-over from the Bush stimulus years. 
  
Besides—and so obvious that it shouldn’t even be up for debate—yearly fiscal deficits of 10% of GDP per year are simply unsustainable. I don’t care what argument you make, deficits of this ever-increasing size will lead to a collapse in the economy. Certainly a blow-up in Treasuries—the instrument of this deficit—long before. 
  
Mish further fails to realize that the Federal Reserve has abandoned both of its mandates—to fight inflation and to maintain full employment—in favor of its new mantra: Maintaining aggregate asset price levels. Whatever it takes. This means essentially inflating asset price levels back to pre-Depression levels. 
  
Everything the Fed has been doing since September 2008 has been in the service of this goal. The MBS buys, the alphabet-soup of liquidity windows, QE, now QE-lite, QE2 soon to come—the Fed is hell-bent on maintaining the bubble it created between 1987 and 2007. 
  
Since September 2008, the way the Fed achieved this goal was by effectively nationalizing private debt, and turning it into public debt—one look at the Fed balance sheet is enough to convince any skeptic. This means that all the bad debt accumulated during the last two-and-a-half decades have been effectively turned into Treasuries. 
  
So Treasuries are getting squeezed and pulled two ways: By the U.S. Federal government, and by the U.S. Federal Reserve. Because of the massive fiscal debt of the Federal government, Treasury bonds will not be repaid, at least not in real terms. And because of the Federal Reserve’s constant goosing of their prices in order to both maintain low interest rates and prop up asset prices, Treasury bond prices have left planet earth altogether, and are in the realm of Bubble-land. 
  
In a couple of private e-mails, Mish objected to—and dismissed—my Treasury-run/commodity-moonshot/hyperinflation scenario altogether. According to him, I was arguing for a Shazaam! moment: When all of a sudden—for no reason whatsoever—people would collectively panic and—Shazaam!—they would exit Treasuries en masse. 
  
Mish is actually right—that’s what I’m saying. I pompously call it a “Moment of Clarity”, Mish more cuttingly calls it a Shazaam! moment. 
  
But that is, in essence, what I am arguing: Because in a termite-riddled house, no one can predict when the house will collapse—but we all know deep in our bones that it will collapse. So the second you hear a creak in the plankings, what do you do? You run for the exits
  
I have no idea when that Shazaam moment will happen: Tomorrow, next month, next year. But it will occur—because everybody knows that Treasury debt cannot be repaid. So it’s not a question of if—the damage has been done, and is irreparable. It’s now just a question of when
  
I hope I have explained why.