As chairman of the Federal Reserve Board since
1987, Alan Greenspan has presided over the longest economic expansion
in history, until recently referred to as the "Goldilocks Economy."
That's a good thing, isn't it? Not necessarily. Here's why: Ever since
he rescued the stock market following the crash in 1987, Mr. Greenspan
has become the "rescuer of last resort." Whenever a crisis looms, the
Fed rides to the rescue by flooding the economy with new money. Money
supply (M2) statistics show he did it in 1995 during the Mexican
crisis, again in 1998 when the Asian Flu threatened to sink the U.S.
stock market and throughout 2001 as an antidote to the current economic
and stock market malaise. Consequently, since 1997 the rate of monetary
expansion has significantly exceeded the 5% upper limit of the Fed's
target rate (see Figure 1).
So what's wrong with that?
Extending expansions long beyond their bedtime eventually produces a
very tired economy. Consequently, when a weary economy finally turns in
for a rest, it crashes. We've enjoyed a long run, true, but we've paid
a price for it that will come back to bite us.
The price we pay is the accumulation of what Mr. Greenspan calls
"imbalances" -- a euphemism for dangerous conditions such as overvalued
stocks or too much debt. When these imbalances grow exceedingly large,
they undergo forcible corrections in the process of "rebalancing," and
the economy suffers: stock markets crash and lenders experience
defaults and delinquencies, for example, causing the economy to
contract.
As the U.S. economy has expanded over the past decade, we have accumulated five major economic imbalances. We have:
1. Printed too much money since 1995, to fund the chairman's rescues.
2. Become exceedingly dependent on oil from unstable parts of the
world. (More than half of U.S. oil needs are met by imports. For the
first seven months of 2001, OPEC furnished 28.4% of oil consumed in the
U.S., of which about half came from the Middle East.)
3. Bid up prices of common stocks to unrealistic levels of valuation
(S&P 500 price-to-earnings ratios in the mid-30s in 1999, compared
to a more normal 15, and dividend yields below 1.3%, compared to a more
normal 3%).
4. Burdened consumers with too much debt. (As a percentage of
disposable income, mortgage debt climbed to a record 69%, compared to
59% in 1991, and consumer credit rose to a record 21.5%, compared to
16.4% in 1992.)
5. Given too many dollars to foreigners in exchange for imports.
(Trade deficits are more than twice as high as they were when the
dollar suffered a 50% devaluation beginning in 1985.)
The creation of these imbalances begins with "printing" too much
money in repeated efforts to stave off the normal ebb of the economic
cycle.
In truth, the Fed doesn't actually print money; it just adds new
reserves to the banking system by buying U.S. Treasury debt instruments
with newly created money, per the instructions of the Federal Open
Market Committee chaired by Mr. Greenspan. The new money is, in effect,
nothing more than a series of bookkeeping entries between the Fed and
the banks. However, it spends just like the folding green, and that is
the point. Once it is in the banking system, the new money will be
either spent on goods and services, or invested. So far so good, as
long as the money supply expands at about the same rate as the economy.
However, when the Fed prints more new money than there are new
things to spend it on (as in recent years), prices go up, and you get
either consumer price inflation or asset inflation. For example, print
too much money and investors may drive up stock prices to unrealistic
levels of valuation: asset inflation. The positive "wealth effect" from
stocks, added to the ready availability of credit from a banking system
flooded with reserves, prompts consumers to overspend, leading not only
to consumer price inflation, but also to huge trade deficits and
excessive consumer debt loads. High stock valuations, coupled with
strong consumer demand, also encourage corporations to take on
excessive levels of debt.
The weight of each of these imbalances can disable major parts of
the economy when they unravel. History teaches us that these imbalances
eventually "rebalance." As the imbalances are corrected, bad things
happen, and indeed, have been happening for the past year. For example:
Too much money creates asset inflation and/or consumer price
inflation. We saw unprecedented asset inflation in the stock market
develop between 1995 and 2000 as P/E multiples skyrocketed into the
high 20s for the Dow and into the mid-30s for the S&P 500, while
dividend yields dwindled into insignificance (see Figure 2). History
teaches us that the steeper stocks rise, the deeper they fall, as the
Nasdaq demonstrated over the past year and a half (see Figure 3). We
saw the resurgence of consumer price inflation beginning in January
2000 when the 12-months-trailing consumer price index climbed above 3%
and stayed there until just recently.
Oil dependency leads to high oil prices, as sustained growth in oil
demand eliminates the surplus of deliverable oil. High oil prices
create inflation and siphon resources from consumers, thereby
discouraging domestic personal and corporate spending and depressing
stock and bond prices. We saw this happen when oil prices climbed from
$10 a barrel into the mid-$30s beginning in 1999, adding to the
resurgence of inflation, higher interest rates and lower stock prices
in 2000. There could be more to come if Middle Eastern tensions reach
the point where oil supplies from the region are cut off, given the
growing U.S. dependency on foreign oil.
Overvalued stocks lead to stock market crashes, wiping out savings
and thereby prompting cutbacks in consumer and business spending. We
have already had a taste of this "loss-of-wealth effect" on consumer
spending as a result of the Nasdaq crashing. If the Dow follows suit,
as seems likely, sagging consumer spending will be further depressed.
Crashing stock prices also led to the major cutbacks in business
investment in plant and equipment that began in late 2000. We've seen
devastation in the tech sector, following the crash of the Nasdaq.
Excessive debt leads to defaults, bankruptcies, credit crunches and
cutbacks in consumer and business spending. We are seeing the early
consequences of excessive debt; bankruptcies have skyrocketed and
delinquencies are rising. Consumer confidence has sagged, and consumers
have virtually stopped borrowing in recent months, dragging down the
growth in consumer spending. These signs, coupled with the pall cast by
the attack of Sept. 11, point to further significant retrenchment in
consumer spending.
Overvaluing the dollar eventually leads to a "flight from the
dollar," producing a devaluation of the currency -- as in Mexico in
'95, Asia in '97-'98, for example -- causing interest rates to rise,
stocks to crash and the economy to contract. We haven't seen a dollar
devaluation yet, despite soaring trade deficits. The reason for that
strength is that international investors, while fearing U.S. economic
weakness, fear weakness in Japan and Europe even more. Consequently,
their strong demand for dollar-denominated investments has supported
the dollar. However, in the wake of Sept. 11, the dollar has been
wavering. Devaluation of the dollar is likely to be the last domino to
fall.
Unfortunately, the effects of one imbalance tend to exacerbate
others. Here's how they all tie together: Since 1995, by increasing the
money supply (M2) at rates well above the 5% upper limit of its target
range (and above the growth rate of the economy), the Fed pushed stock
prices up to unrealistic levels of valuation, setting the market up for
a crash. (Ironically, as he fueled the spectacular bull market with
floods of new money, chairman Greenspan famously questioned its
"irrational exuberance"!) Printing too much money also rekindled
consumer price inflation, pushing up interest rates in 2000.
Likewise, oil price hikes in 1999 and 2000 aggravated inflation,
which added to the upward pressure on interest rates and sent the
overvalued stock market into a tailspin in 2000. The plunging Nasdaq
decimated business spending in the tech sector. In addition, the
combination of high interest rates and falling stock prices in 2000
crushed consumer confidence and spending, which then forced additional
cutbacks in industrial production and business spending. Production
cutbacks triggered layoffs, which caused consumers to trim spending
even more, creating a downward spiral between consumer spending and
production since the second half of 2000. The accompanying rise in
unemployment, combined with the loss-of-wealth effect from the crashing
stock market, triggered a surge in debt defaults, prodding banks to
trim lending, resulting in the beginnings of a "credit crunch" that
further depressed economic activity.
A sagging U.S. economy is depressing other economies around the
world dependent upon exports to the United States. Economic
deterioration in the U.S. may eventually cause foreigners to lose
confidence in U.S financial markets. Consequently, they will be
inclined to dump their dollar-denominated investments, which will
further depress U.S. stocks and bonds, and put upward pressure on
interest rates, adding to the U.S. economic malaise. So, you don't have
the weight of just one imbalance to deal with, but rather the
accumulated weight of all of them tumbling in succession like dominoes.
Ironically, the economy's present vulnerability to a serious
recession derives from the Fed's single-minded pursuit of perpetual
prosperity. If monetary policy remains neutral, with the money supply
expanding at about the same rate as the economy, inflation will remain
under control and the economy will expand and contract in normal
business cycles typically lasting about four or five years. Imbalances
built up during the expansion phase of the cycle will largely be
rebalanced by manageable corrections during the contraction phase. Just
as breathing requires not just inhaling life-giving oxygen but also
exhaling toxic carbon dioxide, so too do economic cycles require
recessions to correct excesses build up during expansions. Debt is
reduced by repayment or default, stock prices retreat to more normal
levels of valuation, the currency is devalued and trade deficits turn
into surpluses. Without these healthy corrections, imbalances continue
to grow, eventually becoming so immense that they overcome all attempts
at monetary or fiscal stimulus, and a crash results. Consequently, the
unintended effect of the Fed's policy to promote perpetual growth is to
trade a series of small, manageable recessions for one big one at the
end of a long super-cycle.
Before Sept. 11 the economy had reached the point where immense
imbalances were starting to overpower the Fed's aggressive monetary
stimulus, and the economy bordered on recession, much to the surprise
of mainstream economists. Now the added weight of the consumer pullback
triggered by the Sept. 11 attacks seems to have pushed the economy over
the edge into recession.
The Fed now faces an unpleasant choice. It must decide whether to
ratchet up the monetary expansion even further in an attempt to revive
the economy (which will surely rekindle inflation without restoring
much vigor to the economy as long as the imbalances remain uncorrected)
or moderate the expansion of the money supply (which will help dampen
inflation while allowing the recession to correct the imbalances). The
latter alternative, while more painful initially, would nonetheless
speed the process of correcting imbalances and set the stage for sound,
sustainable recovery sooner rather than later. Arguing in favor of a
salutary recession, however, is about as popular in Washington today as
was Galileo's view of the heavens in 17th-century Rome.
For strategic and political reasons in the aftermath of Sept. 11,
the Fed probably will feel compelled to prop up the ailing U.S. economy
with a flood of new money, regardless of the inflationary consequences.
Monetary statistics after the attack confirm this conclusion. In the
week following the attack, M2 was up a staggering $164.5 billion, an
annualized 13.7% rise. Continuing such aggressive monetary stimulus
would delay the rebalancing process, leaving the economy wallowing in
stagflation for an extended period of time, weighed down by excessive
debt, overvalued stocks, inflation, relatively high long-term interest
rates and an overvalued dollar. Such monetary stimulus ultimately
becomes self-defeating, since floods of money aggravate inflation and
push up long-term interest rates, dampening economic activity and
depressing stock prices. So don't expect another "soft landing" to
restore the Goldilocks Economy. Eventually, the rebalancing process
will not be denied, leading to a serious, possibly cataclysmic economic
contraction as the resolving event of the current economic super-cycle
engineered by the Fed.
Needless to say, this outlook implies a highly defensive investment
strategy, avoiding stocks to preserve capital. With money market
instruments yielding around 3%, this is a message most investors don't
want to hear. Nevertheless, bearing in mind the Chinese definition of a
crisis as the combination of danger and opportunity, contrarian
investors who ride out the crisis in the safety of money market
instruments will find themselves amply rewarded with opportunities to
buy stocks at fire-sale prices when fear grips the market and today's
bulls become bears.
It's worth remembering that the greatest opportunity in the 20th
century to buy stocks was at the bottom of the market at the depths of
the Great Depression in 1933, when the Dow was selling at roughly 12%
of its 1929 peak. Stocks quadrupled during the next four years -- a
compound annual rate of growth of about 41%. Clinging safely to the
sidelines at a time of crisis could just be the most valuable
information you can get and the most expensive advice to ignore.
Economist and market strategist David L. Smith, of Kingwood, Texas, is the author of Cyclical Investing Reports. He can be reached at davidlsmith@iname.com.