How Japan's Banking System
Let the Economy Down
Michael Hudson, Ph.D.
[June 1997]
INTRODUCTION BY BILL TOTTEN (from Japan): In
this continuation of the second installment of a three-part
essay analyzing the roots of modern banking, economist Michael
Hudson describes the unfortunate consequences of hasty
deregulation on the U.S. banking and thrift sector in the
1980's. His analysis warns of repercussions for Japan, which
appears to be blindly emulating the same expedient U.S.
policies.
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IV. Some contrasts between Japanese and U.S. banking
Today's Cold War victory of privatization and economic
deregulation aims less at financing new industrial investment than
at generating capital gains on assets already in place by inflating
stock market and real estate bubbles. Toward this end governments
are being turned into armies commanded by financial speculators who
have neither the time nor the foresight to make their gains in ways
that expand society's horizons. The politicians who staff these
armies have become mercenaries, paid in economic booty divided among
loyal officials in the form of campaign contributions. The more
financial gains the new laws create in the hands of the wealthy, the
larger these contributions grow. The first government payoff to
campaign backers (headed by the real estate, banking and insurance
industries) has been a fiscal reward. The tax burden is being
shifted away from holders of real estate, stocks and bonds, onto
industrial capital and wage- earners. Yet no one seems to be
analyzing how credit is being steered into the capital and debt
markets to inflate asset prices, creating economic bubbles. Even as
Japan discusses its banking and financial reforms, no public
official is explaining how this may help - or hinder - the nation's
recovery of employment and direct investment in key technologies.
It is as if economics is discussing a just-pretend world of
science fiction, not the real world around us. Japan's case is by no
means unique. Nobel Economics Prizes continue to be awarded for
theories of equilibrium even as the economic environment is
suffering debt pollution and a polarization of wealth and income
between rich and poor. People have come to recognize how the earth's
atmosphere and biosphere are entering an epoch of extreme
disequilibrium, but to many observers society's own widening
economic imbalances seem still to be invisible. So thorough a
victory for the financial and real estate industries hardly seemed
likely eighty years ago. By the time World War I drew to a close, it
seemed that the epoch of laissez faire had passed. After Russia's
October Revolution even Europe's political right wing endorsed the
principle of centralised government planning. Italy's fascists
advocated a "corporate state," while Germany's national
socialists sponsored heavy industry and employment on a military
footing. National power seemed likely to be a function of economic
planning and technological innovation, not financial and real estate
gains for rentiers. John Maynard Keynes wrote a famous essay on "The
End of Laissez Faire," and called for "euthanasia of the
rentier." His General Theory contained a devastating critique
of rentier capitalism. The essence of his theory of government
planning was to show how unearned income from financial speculation
and the debts it created was deflating purchasing power for the rest
of the economy, deterring new tangible real investment and
employment.
The situation began to change after the Second World War. Free-
trade economists attributed the German miracle to free enterprise, a
slogan Chancellor Ludwig Erhardt used later. But the real reason for
the turning point occurred in 1947. The Allies canceled Germany's
internal debts (save for the wages that employers owed their workers
for their last few weeks' pay). The guiding logic was that most
business debts were owed to former Nazi businessmen. The Allies also
refrained from exacting reparations. Germany thus emerged from the
war with almost no burden of taxes needed to defray interest charges
on public debts, and almost no debt-servicing costs on private
debts. Germany's government budget also benefited - as did that of
Japan - by having no army to support. No wonder these two economies
were able to compete so well in the international economy!
But the Allies' beneficence was not without political strings.
Both Germany and Japan felt obliged to reimburse the United States
for providing the Cold War umbrella. Both countries contributed
heavily to American initiatives throughout the world. Their central
bankers let the World Bank and its associated regional banks serve
as vehicles to shift D-marks and yen into U.S. dollars, mobilizing
the German and Japanese balance of payments to support America's own
political programs and affluence. In the end, Japan's fiscal
solvency was sacrificed to the United States, most notoriously under
the Plaza Accord. With hindsight, it seems that Japan's economy was
put in order mainly to serve the United States as a financial
colony.
Recently, a thoughtful study of financial philosophy as it
pertains to Japanese banking has been published. This best-seller, "The
State We're In," by English economist Will Hutton, recommends
that the solution to "the British disease" is to reform
England's banking system along lines practiced for many years in
Japan. Hutton analyzes British banks as having a short-term rentier
mentality that has not changed much since the days of Foxwell. By
contrast, he writes, from the late 1930s through the 1980s Japan
mobilized its savings to fund industry. While its post office
network collected long-term savings, the large public investment
banks lent money in partnership with Japan's commercial banks to
fund industries targeted by MITI as being in the national interest.
Is Mr. Hutton pining for a lost world? Besides the problems of
corrupt bank officers being reported in recent news articles,
haven't Japan's own banks become more "English" in their
patterns of lending which, during the Bubble, was largely for real
estate speculation? If they were enlightened industrial banks, what
has gotten them into the trouble in which they find themselves
today?
Placing the analysis of Japanese banking in historical
perspective, Hutton describes how Japan's financial system adopted
the Anglo-American model's short-term horizon in the 1930s, even as
the rest of the world was centralising government economic and
political control in the aftermath of World War I. At the time
Japanese banks did not yet offer long-term loans, and the zaibatsu
represented "only ten of the top sixty manufacturing and mining
companies. In the non-zaibatsu firms quoted on the stock market, R&D
and investment took second place to immediate profits." Workers
were fired as business conditions fluctuated, and "senior
management insisted on bonus and share option schemes as incentives
to further effort." All this sounds very Anglo-American and
un-Japanese indeed!
As Japan prepared for World War II, however, "the government
moved to a 'New Economic System' which recast the financial and
labour system along broadly contemporary lines. Stockholders' rights
were limited, dividends were curtailed and individual firms were
induced to become 'an organisation whereby employers and employees
are bound together in their respective functions.'" The
objective was to increase production, and financial institutions
were directed to provide the needed credit. Some Japanese urged a
more British-type free-for-all market system. It was perhaps
fortuitous, however, that "after Japan's defeat the U.S. was
too distracted by opposing communist trade unions and Japanese
socialism to follow through in its attempts to change the system,
and the underlying institutional structure [of war planning]
survived." The result was that Japan's "regulated
financial system is the least market- based, most traditional, above
all most committed to its customers, of all the three principal
capitalist variants" (England, Germany and Japan).
Shareholdings represent long-term commitments to companies, not mere
vehicles for short-term trading profits.
Japan's banks are linked to the rest of the financial system by a
system of cross-shareholdings. "Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo,
Fuyo, Sanwa, and Daiichi Kangyo Bank are each City banks which,
along with a trust bank, life insurance company and trading company,
sit at the centre of a constellation of cross-shareholdings. The
banks act as presidents of each group, channeling long-term loans,
chairing negotiations over joint ventures and generally sharing
information and business advice." The mutual shareholdings that
cement inter- relationships among the kigyo shudan (industrial
groups) represent some 40 per cent of the equities traded on Tokyo's
stock exchange. An additional 30 per cent are held by the keiretsu,
or sub-contractors that work for the major industrial companies.
This "relational market" accounts for some 70 per cent
of Japanese stocks, constituting a system of mutual long-term
commitments, Hutton concludes (p. 272). "The group companies,
because of the dense network of cross-shareholdings, in effect own
each other and are impregnable to takeover," while group
pressures serve to monitor and improve company performance.
Corporate raiders are thus alien to the Japanese spirit, while "other
features of the Anglo-Saxon system like executive share options are
banned."
Most notably, "in the event of bankruptcy the banks rank
after the employees and subcontractors in having a claim on the
company's assets." This leads Japan's banks to save their
customers from insolvency rather than withdrawing financial support
when business conditions turn down. This support helps the banks
avoid being left holding the financial bag. "Japanese banks
will lend up to four times more in relation to a firm's assets than
British banks," Hutton finds; "the respective fortunes of
the two countries' car and consumer electronics industries are a
stark illustration of the competitive advantage that such abundant
working capital and stability of ownership give the Japanese."
(Likewise, he finds that Korea's chaebol incorporate within single
conglomerates "a vast cluster of related enterprises that are
given overt state support by the South Korean government and state
banks.")
Finance and commerce are thus linked. In the process, their long-
term relationships block foreigners from penetrating Japanese (and
Korean) markets "even when they have saleable products. They
are not part of the relationship network."
In the United States the three-pronged link is between banking,
government, and the real estate sector. Manufacturing gets short
shrift as over 70 percent of loans to businesses are real estate
loans. New credit creation thus is based mainly on mortgage banking.
This inflates the real estate bubble (and stock market gains)
without funding new direct industrial investment. This bias is
reinforced by a fiscal system that taxes capital gains at much lower
rates than earned income. American investors accordingly aim at
achieving capital gains (above all, land-value gains) rather than
industrial earnings.
V. The Impact of Deregulation
For many years the U.S. financial system separated commercial
banking from long-term mortgage lending to home-buyers and
businesses. By World War II, mortgage banking consisted mainly of
two specialized types of institutions. Mutual savings banks, created
in the 1800's, were formed to benefit local depositors by mobilizing
their petty savings (hence, names for savings banks such as Dime,
Dollar, Emigrant's, Seaman's, and Bowery), and to lend out these
deposits to small-scale borrowers. Savings and loan associations (S&Ls),
created in the 1930's, were "share companies" to provide
home-buyers with longer credit than the three-year renewable
mortgages extended by commercial banks. The S&Ls were privately
owned and run for the profit of their owners. Continuing their
organization as joint stock companies until the 1980's, S&Ls
accepted money as "shares." They were insured by the
Federal S&L Deposit Insurance Corp.(FSLIC) rather than by the
Federal Deposit Insurance Corp (FDIC), which insured commercial and
savings banks. The names for most S&Ls concealed this non-bank
character by calling themselves "First Federal" (or "First
Federal Savings") in big letters, only disclosing in the small
print that they were S&Ls rather than savings banks.
Japanese may compare U.S. savings banks to their own credit
unions, and the S&Ls to their jusen. Unlike Japan's jusen,
however, America's commercial banks did not hold stock in the S&Ls.
Under U.S. law there was a strict separation of function. S&Ls
were allowed to pay higher rates of interest, the costs of which
they covered by taking more risks. Their fortunes were buoyed by
America's postwar inflation of land prices. This enabled even badly
conceived projects to be profitable, thanks in large part to the
special tax breaks the real estate lobby won from Congress.
Most of the rise in interest rates occurred after 1964, when
America escalated the war in Vietnam and pushed the nation's balance
of payments deeply into deficit. Interest rates had to be increased
to attract enough dollars to offset military spending. Rising
interest rates curtailed the stock market run-up and slowed new
construction until war-induced inflation led to a flight into
property.
The problem for S&Ls and other mortgage lenders was that while
interest rates were being buoyed by inflation (and inflation
adjustments), market values of the financial community's long-term
mortgage loans were declining against this real estate. Each rise in
interest rates made the financial structure more shaky.
By the end of the 1970s the S&Ls were in trouble because they
had reinvested their deposits into mortgage loans whose interest
rates were fixed over periods of twenty or even thirty years. When
market interest rates soared during the post-Vietnam years of Pres.
Carter's administration (1977-80), depositors began to withdraw
their funds from S&Ls. S&L portfolios of mortgage loans fell
in value, just as prices of bonds and other securities yielding
fixed income fell in value as interest rates rose.
The real estate loan problem faced by America in the late 1970s
thus was different from that confronting Japan today. In the latter
case, there is real estate overvaluation. But the problem in America
was financial. Interest rates were rising, which reduced market
value of long-term MORTGAGE LOANS against this real estate. Property
holders with older, low-interest mortgages were in a favored
position relative to new borrowers. Asset values of mortgage
lenders, S&Ls and savings banks fell below their deposit
liabilities. This threatened their net worth positions.
The S&Ls turned to the government to bail them out of their
balance sheet problem. The FSLIC had been established as a source of
emergency credit for just such circumstances. But already by the
mid- 1960s, California's aggressive S&Ls had borrowed fully 25
percent of their liabilities from the FSLIC. They had used what was
supposed to be emergency credit as a low-cost source of capital. The
value of their mortgage loans fell and their dilemma became: how
could they repay both their depositors and the FSLIC under such
circumstances?
The S&Ls were able to get into this dilemma in the first place
because their industry was assumed to be self-regulating. So much
money was being made in real estate development that heavy mortgage
origination fees could be paid. Mortgage lenders were even given
some equity incentives such as shares in the real estate being
financed. S&Ls indulged in real estate debt pyramiding. Their
depositors were insured by the government. The Reagan Administration
sharply increased government guarantees. Thus, S&Ls that made
shaky loans could attract all the deposit money they needed in order
to cover their losses and bad loans. In this way, all risk was
transferred to the public sector, not to depositors. This was the
true meaning of "privatization" under the Reagan-Bush
administration: a free transfer of assets to benefit the private
sector while the public sector received all the risk.
The real estate and financial industries joined forces to support
this policy. More than enough money was available to buy
Congressional support for deregulation in the early 1980s. Academic
wisdom contributed, by depicting all market economies as being
self-regulating. This was, after all, the laissez faire "equilibrium
economics" for which Nobel Prizes were given out each year.
Reagan administration ideologues (known in Washington as "the
crazies") were eager to believe that all economic problems were
self- curing. To more hard-headed Republican politicians, every
government policy, every pork barrel project, every tax break was
put up for sale in exchange for campaign contributions or other
favors. Financial deregulation thus went hand in hand with the
environmental deregulation sponsored by James Watt, the parallel
dismantling of the anti-trust law, and the decriminalization of much
white collar looting of pension funds, gutting of companies,
establishment of offshore tax havens and, in the banking sphere,
holding companies. What formerly had been deemed criminal activity
was rechristened "modern business management." Japanese
who wish to know what their future might look like under the current
"big bang" proposals might therefore benefit from studying
the American experience that followed similar deregulation programs
in the 1980s.
Part of the financial deregulatory process was abolishment of the
historical separation of functions between savings banks and S&Ls,
and between commercial banks, investment underwriters and
stock-brokers. All these types of institutions had diversified to "follow
the market place" and to break free of the designated functions
for which they originally had been founded. Savings banks, for
instance, campaigned successfully to change local banking laws to
allow them to shift their deposits out of state, especially to large
Florida real estate developments. A single such loan could absorb
millions of deposit dollars that otherwise would have financed
dozens of loans to the banks' local constituents. The parallel for
Japan today is obvious. An increasing amount of Japan's savings will
be lent to the United States and other foreign economies rather than
be used to fund new investment within Japan. The nation's firms will
be thrown into a bidding contest against borrowers in all other
countries. Distress borrowing by, say, the Russian government to
repay its bad debts may thus pull savings out of Japan, slowing
Japan's investment or even creating a financial crisis. There are no
international rules to encourage international lending in a
productive way to finance new direct investment.
Reagan's policy makers rationalized financial deregulation on the
grounds that it would let the S&Ls and savings banks "earn
their way out of debt." Higher earnings were assumed to be
freely available by taking bigger risks. Such speculation was
supposed to enable the S&Ls to offer depositors higher rates to
keep their money in these institutions. S&Ls were permitted to
buy stocks and junk bonds, and even to undertake their own real
estate development. Financial institutions thus became direct
investors. In fact, deregulation of the S&Ls enabled real estate
developers to create (or take over) their own institutions. These
institutions then were given broad lending and investment
privileges, along with higher federal deposit guarantees (FSLIC).
Deregulation particularly benefited swindlers because it loosened
constraints on their activities and legalized what hitherto was
illegal.
Republicans assured doubters that deregulation would save the
government from having to bail the S&Ls out of their
low-interest mortgage portfolios. The S&Ls used the new rules to
bid for new deposits on a vast scale, attracting large institutions
that fully knew the risks, but understood that the government had
re-classified what formerly had been "shares" in S&Ls
as bona fide bank "deposits." The government was the
ultimate underwriter, even for the most dangerous institutions which
were obliged to offer the highest rates. Yet S&L examiners were
not allowed to rein in self-dealing by operators, including many who
subsequently were convicted as felons - men such as Charles Keating
Jr., with his Lincoln S&L in Irvine, California; Donald Dixon
with his Vernon S&L in Dallas; and David Paul with the Centrust
Bank in Miami. These crooks (who claimed to be public benefactors
and even heroic risk-takers) hindered government regulators by using
deposits in their institutions as a fund from which to contribute
generously to the election campaigns of the leading members of
Congressional banking committees. This is how the notorious "Keating
Five" members of the Senate banking committee shepherded Mr.
Keating's criminal operations through government, calling Mr.
Keating's activities free enterprise and virtually hailing him as a
hero fighting the federal regulatory bureaucracy!
What is so striking, and so instructive for Japan today, is how
relatively small contributions are able to produce such vast frauds.
Charles Keating's case cost the government over $3 billion to clean
up, and his criminal conviction was followed by a $1.6 billion civil
judgment to compensate his victims for about three-quarters of their
original capital investment. When Mr. Keating claimed to lack the
funds to pay, two of his accounting firms -- Ernst & Young, and
Arthur Andersen -- were found to be guilty of gross negligence (if
not outright complicity), and were directed to share the blame for
having lent unwarranted credibility to his financial malfeasance.
This experience shows that politicians have been bought by major
financial and real estate operators. Most of this political buying
and selling is done legally, by lobbying Congressmen to pass laws
legalizing practices that formerly were deemed illegal or immoral.
Of course, economic and legal theorists in academic institutions
have jumped on the bandwagon, led by the University of Chicago's
business and law schools, which have become public relations
advocates for the ideology of decriminalization in the name of "free
markets." The new libertarians in fact consider putting any
social objectives ahead of money-making as dereliction of
administrative duty!
The effect of such deregulation for savings banks and S&Ls
stands as an object lesson: They lost any social role beyond an
obligation to their shareholders to make as much money as quickly as
possible. In the case of the savings banks, deregulation let
executives "go private." The result was similar to what
occurred in Russia. The executives of these traditionally sleepy
small institutions sold banks to themselves for virtually nothing.
In effect, they registered the banks' accumulated reserves in their
own names, giving the stock to themselves rather than distributing
it to the depositors as a special dividend. They thus got rich by
privatizing bank assets that were supposed to serve a public
function. This private looting of public or social wealth and assets
has been the essence of deregulation since 1980. The epoch of "value-free"
economics had arrived with a vengeance.
As America's post-Vietnam inflation pushed up interest rates to
double-digit levels, depositors found they could earn higher returns
by shifting their deposits elsewhere. To meet these withdrawals, the
S&Ls had to either raise the rates they paid depositors - and
thus run an operating loss - or else sell off their mortgage
portfolios at a substantial loss to their balance sheets.
While this financial restructuring was occurring, direct
industrial investment was starved for funds. To ward off raiders
searching for companies to buy cheaply, the entire industrial sector
had to live for current earnings - rather than invest in long-term
projects. Companies were obliged to support their stock prices in
order to avoid being raided. One strategy was to pay out a higher
proportion of their earnings as dividends. Another was to spend
their revenue to buy up their own stock. Both policies were employed
at the expense of funding R&D and other long-term investment.
Yet a third strategy against corporate raiding was for companies
to load themselves down with debt (so-called "poison pills").
They would borrow so much money that no raider would be able to
borrow enough money to break up a company, raid its treasury, its
pension fund and its real estate. In such cases their earnings were
used to pay interest rather than to finance new direct investment.
Japanese companies did not have to confront this kind of raiding
during the 1980s because they were not run for the benefit of
outside stockholders, raiders or investors whose main objective was
to obtain as quick and high a rentier income as possible. Under
normal conditions the objective of Japanese firms was to optimize
their operations, benefit their own work force and their customers
(who often, in Japan's case, were also major stockholders). Thus,
when T. Boone Pickens came to Japan, his American-style financial
methods were rebuffed. The "value-free" principle
described above has become the foundation of Western banking
systems. Instead of financing industry, the banks and S&Ls lent
to its raiders. Instead of financing new direct investment, the
financial game turned to asset stripping. In this way U.S. banking,
and the "anything goes" economic philosophy prompting its
deregulation, represents the antithesis of Japan's postwar financial
philosophy.
The U.S. banking system's attitude toward depositors is well
indicated in a training document that exhorted Mr. Keating's
salesmen to "always remember [that] the weak, meek and ignorant
are always good targets." The meek got separated from their
money quickly by financial deregulation benefiting predatory
insiders at the public's expense. What was funded by deregulation
was not productive investment, but the economy's overhead of crooks
and rentiers. This is the system that American advisors are now
urging Japan to adopt. The drive to generate financial returns
willy-nilly, even at the cost of cannibalizing manufacturing
industry, downsizing the labor force, cutting pensions, minimizing
taxes on real estate and stock market speculation, and making up the
fiscal shortfall by raising consumption taxes first to 5 percent and
then to higher levels - all this has become part of the new
fundamentalist economic religion being foisted on Japan.
VI. The role of banking philosophy and the politics of its laws
To a large extent America's banking patterns, like those of Japan,
are a product of historical accident. After the Panic of 1907, a
National Monetary Commission was convened to decide what sort of
banking system the United States should have. The Republicans were
in power, and had been dominant in national politics since the Civil
War. Supported by big business, they were federalist and
protectionist in their economic philosophy, and hence opposed to
English free trade doctrines. This led them to favor a financial
system modeled on Germany's industrial investment banking.
The Democrats based their electoral support on the indebted
Midwestern, Western and poor Southern states, and on the large east
coast cities among immigrant workers and real estate interests. They
favored a decentralized merchant banking system along English lines.
Matters took a fateful turn when the former Republican president
Teddy Roosevelt split the Republican vote in the 1912 presidential
election by running on a third-party Bullmoose ticket. This enabled
Woodrow Wilson to win. Under his Democratic administration the
Federal Reserve system was created in a decentralized manner that
reflected the country's widespread mistrust of large banks, and of
strong federal banking power in general.
The Federal Reserve system divided the United States into twelve
regional districts, each with a relatively high degree of autonomy.
The old state banks continued to exist alongside those that chose
federal charters (and which were subject to local state
authorities). For many years, state laws, especially in the Midwest,
blocked banks from having more than one office, and did not permit
branching across state lines.
The result was a decentralized financial system with over 20,000
banks, subject to diverse regulatory systems. The Glass-Steagel bank
reform prevented banks from investing their reserves in common
stocks, either of their customers or other firms, much less from
taking a controlling equity position. Banks could have trust
departments to manage the estates of their customers, but their
lending and trust operations were strictly segregated by laws that
were tightly enforced. The guiding idea was to prevent bank control
of industry, not to recycle financial savings into direct industrial
investment. The proper function of banking was held to be mainly a
monetary function, providing the means of payment "to oil the
wheels of commerce."
Many smaller banks outside of New York kept their deposits in the
large money-center banks in New York or Chicago. In effect, they
acted as local branches for these larger banks, passing their
deposits on to Citibank, Chase and other New York City or Chicago
giants. By the 1980s these money- center banks were earning large
commissions by shoveling their correspondent-bank deposits (that is,
deposits by smaller banks) into the quickest and largest loan
packages they could find. Much of the money was invested in loans to
third world central banks, until Mexico triggered the Latin American
debt bomb in 1982 by announcing that it lacked the money to pay even
the interest on the loans that had gone mainly to enrich its small
clique of ruling families. Even the largest banks did not conduct
research to foresee this problem. Instead they simply printed out
reports showing monetary amounts due on specific dates.
By the mid-1960s, banks could not find any reasonable way for
third world debtors to pay, short of the U.S. government lending
them the money as "foreign aid." One reason for this
short-sightedness was a legal problem. Most third world loans had a
clause stating that if any dispute arose, the suit would be settled
according to the laws of New York. But from colonial American times
(when most colonists owed money to British creditors, and looked for
ways not to pay), New York had a pro-debtor law on its books:
Debtors would have their obligations cancelled, if the creditor
could not show that he knew just HOW the debtor would pay him back,
at the time the loan was made. Thus, if New York and Chicago banks
could not explain how Latin American countries and other third world
debtors could repay the loans, these countries could ask that their
debts to the American banks be cancelled. Banks worried that these
debtors might subpoena the records of the country-risk analysts, and
get their debts annulled.
To protect themselves from third world lawyers annulling billions
of dollars worth of debts by using this legal loophole, banks found
it easier to simply abolish their economic research departments (or,
what was the same thing, merged them into their public relations and
publications departments). Thus, nobody could PROVE that they had
done a credit analysis and shown that there was no reasonable and
foreseeable way for debtor countries to pay WITHOUT liquidating
their public assets to do so. Of course, this absence of economic
analysis hardly enabled the banks to operate with an informed
long-term plan. Still, in the 1980s most correspondent banks
imagined that the large money-center banks knew what they were
doing. This assumption proved to be ill-grounded as the demise of
third world lending was followed by yet another unhealthy absorber
of surplus bank deposits: takeover loans to corporate raiders, and
huge credits to real estate developers. When the asset inflation of
the 1980s burst, these sectors went the way of third world debt.
Loans to third world countries traded at just 30% or even just 20%
of their face value - pennies on the dollar - as annual interest
rates soared to over 40 percent for Argentina, Brazil and other
developing economies.
Junk bond interest rates meanwhile rose from 15 percent to over 25
percent for many companies whose bloom had worn off. Real estate
developers discarded properties from 1986, leaving the Federal
Savings and Loan Insurance Corporation (FSLIC) to reimburse
depositors for the hundreds of billions of dollars that had been
funneled into these risky investments in search of federally
guaranteed high interest premiums. Depositors thus obtained high
interest rates as "compensation for risk" without actually
having to take any risk!
What the large banks wanted was larger commissions on
correspondent-bank funds and other money deposited with them, no
matter how recklessly. And what depositors at banks and S&Ls
wanted was the highest-yielding ventures available, as long as the
government was taking the risk. When market prices for third world
debt participations fell drastically, the New York City banks began
to buy back these loans on the secondary market (often from their
own correspondent banks). The banks then made a capital gain by
convincing Treasury Secretary James Brady to convert these debts
into "Brady bonds" whose value was internationally
guaranteed. Although large banks were libertarian in demanding free
rein from government regulations, they also sought public bailouts
of any losses they might incur as their loan activities became more
speculative.
During the 1980s the U.S. money management business was a
guaranteed money-maker, in spite of short-sighted policies. After
all, management fees would be based solely on the raw volume of
assets under management. Rapid capital gains may serve to attract
more business and thus generate yet more fees, but they do not
directly remunerate fund managers more. They may earn money largely
by inertia, for once a trust fund has been placed with a trustee,
the customer is obliged to hire a lawyer to make a formal legal
motion to shift money out of the trustee's hands. This tends to take
the pressure off having to adjust to new developments.
Still, money managers for companies such as Fidelity or Scudder
Stevens and Clark, with their arrays of specialized funds - and also
labor-union, bank and insurance-company trust managers - have come
under pressure to outperform rival managers in a financial game
whose scores are posted on a quarter by quarter basis. Fund managers
thus are obliged to aim their investment strategy at short-term
performance, buying securities wherever immediate returns are
highest. Under such circumstances, investment requiring long
research and development periods with extended payout horizons tends
to fall by the wayside.
Living the proverbial "one day at a time" is normally
most appropriate for those with little time left to live. Such a
short frame best characterizes moribund economies that expect to be
dead by the time capital-intensive technology comes to fruition. But
large American money-market banks have long known a secret that
enables them to indulge in short-term opportunism and greed without
paying a long-term price. They have convinced the government that
they are too large to fail, using the logic that their collapse
would drag down the rest of the economy too. The government should
therefore bail out the largest banks, rather than risk their
depositors losing savings.
And indeed, during the financial storms of the 1980's when
Citibank, Chase and Chemical were left alone by regulators to fend
for themselves, those banks did in fact remain intact despite the
warnings of pessimists. Behind their recovery, however, were
usurious practices which hardly benefited average consumers who had
succumbed to the credit card mentality actively promoted earlier by
those very banks. While interest rates had peaked at over 20 percent
during the Carter administration inflation era, even when the
regular interest rate had receded from the 1980 highs, banks were
permitted to keep their interest charges high for credit cards and
other consumer loans, squeezing out of small borrowers what the
banks had lost on third world, real estate and corporate takeover
lending. It was primarily in this way--with tacit non-regulation by
the American agencies involved--that the banks recovered. One
wonders if such usurious non-regulation is in the offing for
Japanese banks as they struggle to recover.
Some lessons for Japan
For the past six years the Bank of Japan has been following the
American model by leaving things alone in the hope that the banks
might "earn their way" out of debt. But to date they have
not recovered.
Why not? How did it happen that a system seeming to be so well
suited to long-term industrial lending ended up inflating the
world's largest real estate and stock market bubble? It is axiomatic
that an economy's strengths are also potential points of weakness.
One reason Japan's banking system could traditionally take the
long-term perspective has been the willingness of frugal Japanese
depositors themselves to take a long-term social view. Many deposits
are made for a five-year term. This takes the pressure off banks to
recycle the money into loans or investments of the type that can be
liquidated most quickly.
Still, a bubble is a bubble, and the banks certainly made little
effort to resist speculation during 1985-91. Real estate borrowers
were willing to pay high interest rates on bank loans, in the hope
of reaping capital gains in the rising loan market. Lower interest
rates resulting from the Plaza Accords lowered mortgage costs,
providing lucrative opportunities to ride the asset-inflation wave
and its associated real estate speculation and overbuilding.
Japanese banks were eager to finance the jusen to extend high-
yielding real estate loans. Many such loans were extended
irresponsibly, and often in a criminal manner, as subsequent
investigations have shown. Even more serious, the effect of
recycling Japan's savings into mortgage credit inflated its land
prices, and hence its housing and office-rental overhead. As the
bubble gained momentum, Japan's bank deposits were directed less and
less into long-term industrial investment.
Prior to the Plaza Accords of 1985, Japan's capital markets
pursued a cohesive national savings strategy. Insurance companies,
pension funds and banks received savings and recycled them within
the domestic economy. The effect was to bloat the national real
estate and stock markets far above levels of other economies, as
measured by price/earnings ratios. Stated another way, Japan's
demand for assets was biased heavily in favor of the nation's own
asset markets, rather than on foreign markets.
In 1985, however (as explained in OW64 & OW65), Ministry of
Finance officials responded to U.S. pressures by deregulating the
economy. The "encouragement" was for insurance companies
and other financial institutions to invest their money in U.S.
Treasury bonds. This boosted American bond prices and held down U.S.
interest rates, while slowing the yen's rise in international value.
American bonds, real estate or stock fell in yen-value as the
dollar's exchange rate declined. The Ministry of Finance tried to
hide the situation by ruling that Japan's insurance companies no
longer needed to report currency losses on their investments in
excess of 15 percent. The companies still lost money, of course. But
now, with relaxed reporting requirements, the speculators lawfully
could avoid telling the world (including their own policy holders)
the extent to which their support for the U.S. dollar was eroding
their reserves and hence impairing their ability to responsibly
invest the savings that Japanese individuals and companies continued
to pour into them.
The effect has been that Japan's own domestic savings have been
mobilized to finance about a third of America's huge federal budget
deficit in recent years. This support has arisen from banks,
insurance companies and other firms investing their reserves not in
Japanese capital markets, but by speculating on those of the United
States.
The important point is that putting Japan's savings in U.S.
Treasury bonds and related dollar-support operations has not helped
finance Japanese industry or technology. Nor has it been financially
remunerative. David Hale of Kemper (a US money manager and
investment advising firm) observed last year (in his August 15, 1995
report), that during the decade spanning 1985-95 "Japanese
investment firms have lost over $500 billion on their foreign
assets. In the late 1980s, those losses were offset by a booming
Tokyo stock market. In the early 1990s, the slump in [the] Tokyo
stock market depressed Japanese capital outflows by reducing the
hidden reserves which had been used to offset exchange rate losses."
Japan's banks own about a quarter of the nation's corporate
equities. This fact helps explain why the Ministry of Finance has
sought to support the Nikkei above the 16000 level as it plunged
down from nearly 4000 at the end of the 1980s. The objective of this
support is not to fund a new bubble, to be sure, but to prevent
insolvency, because a level of 14000 is said to be the limit below
which the banking system's cumulative stock-market gains would be
lost entirely.
Despite the collapse of Japan's real estate bubble, the banks have
been able to satisfy the Bank for International Settlements' capital
adequacy requirements by refraining from downscaling the market
value of their mortgage loans, and by pointing to their unrealized
gains in the stock market. This equity investment forms the banking
system's ultimate buttress, unlike the case in the United States and
England, where bank reserves are invested in government debt rather
than stocks. However, Japan's shaky stock market poses the danger of
wiping out these "hidden reserves," forcing banks into
positions of negative net worth.
To be sure, bond prices have risen since 1991 as their yields have
fallen from 9 percent to a trough of 2.5 percent in recent months.
These low interest rates make stocks appear relatively desirable by
comparison. But if bond yields should recover to the normal range of
3.5 to 4 percent, the bond market will draw money out of the stock
market and the Nikkei will fall, shrinking reserve positions of
representative members of Japan's banking system all the more. Japan
thus seems to be in a quandary. It seems whatever path it chooses
will only make things worse. (Curiously, economists call this an "optimum"
position, one from which it is impossible to move to a better one.
But non-economists simply call this "being stuck.") As
with any quandary, the solution must come from outside the problem's
parameters as formulated. In Japan's case, the context--being the
political system and its regulatory philosophy--must be changed in
order to provide relief.
Japan's present government, its Ministry of Finance and the Bank
of Japan have not placed the present reforms in any long-term
perspective, except to reflate the balance sheets of Japanese banks.
But it is axiomatic that the expedient solution to any given problem
tends to create new, unforeseen problems. The danger is that by
merely rebuilding bank balance sheets and stock-market prices
through reflating land values, Japan will create a system diverting
future savings AWAY from needed industrial investment.
How the United States deflated its real-estate bubble, and
implications of such a policy for Japan, will form the subject of
the concluding section (VII) of this essay.
VII. How America deflated its real estate bubble - and helped its
stock market recover
Prime Minister Hashimoto and the Ministry of Finance appear to
believe that the way to help Japan's stock market is to re-inflate
the real estate market by steering more savings into it. They seem
to believe that this policy will make Japan more like the United
States, and hence conform to international "good practice."
Yet the U.S. stock market was re-inflated in precisely the opposite
way from that which the Japanese government is now proposing. U.S.
savings were NOT channeled into real estate.
Indeed, since around 1991 most U.S. savers in fact have given up
on the U.S. banking system as the main repository of American
saving. This was largely a voluntary choice by U.S. banks. Because
of the structure of U.S. bank laws, there was little the banks could
have done with more deposits, except recycle them (that is,
speculate) to fund a new real estate bubble. But the banks did not
want to see this happen again. Accordingly, they discouraged new
deposit inflows by reducing interest rates offered to depositors.
(Increasingly, bank earnings are being made by keeping interest
rates high on their credit cards and related consumer lending.)
By 1991, as Japan's real estate bubble was in the process of
collapsing, the U.S. real estate bubble had already collapsed. U.S.
bank deposits no longer were being directed primarily into the real
estate market. S&Ls, where problem loans involving real estate
were most serious, were not given a chance to earn their way out of
debt. Bank regulators in the United States chose to let the most
troubled S&Ls go under, thereby wiping out many S&L
stockholders (who were by no means blameless) but saving the
depositors, including even large institutional money-brokers who had
known full well what was going on. In this way the government paid
for the S&L industry's gambling in Texas, California and a few
other western states whose regulations had been weak. Non-performing
real estate investments were packaged and sold off to interested
buyers - many of whom subsequently made millions of dollars on
properties which have since recovered their value.
A key point is that the stock market picked up precisely because
less money was going into mortgage lending! The Dow Jones Industrial
average soared from 4000 in 1993 to over 6000 by the November 1996
presidential elections, and is now at 7000. What has been behind
this dramatic stock market increase if a major element of the net
worth of U.S. industrial companies is the value of their land and
other real estate?
The collapse of the real estate market set in motion a kind of
teeter-totter movement. Finding the real estate market dead after
1991, banks lowered interest rates they offered their depositors, as
described above. Having grown accustomed to higher returns on their
savings, depositors began to shift their money out of banks and
savings banks into mutual funds and money-market funds. Investment
managers of these funds in turn have been channeling the savings
inflows into the stock and bond markets, fueling the boom on U.S.
stock prices from 1993 onward. The funds involved have been mainly
money market funds, bond funds and stock market funds, specializing
in every major industry.
While America seems, in a sense, to have been adopting the former
Japanese and German (traditional) system of recycling its savings
into industrial stock-holdings, it is important to understand that
relatively little of this money has gone to fund new direct
investment. Most of it has been used to bid up the price of seasoned
securities. This has created capital gains for rentiers (including
mutual funds and pension funds). The result has been that while Wall
Street has prospered, Main Street (that is, needed infrastructure
investment) has been languishing, as has been the U.S. construction
industry. The situation for average American workers'
wages--especially in contrast to salaries of corporate
executives--also reflects this speculative investment policy. While
price-adjusted wage levels of most American workers have fallen,
corporate chief executives have been receiving record-high wages,
thanks largely to the system of stock-option compensation which has
enabled executives to buy stocks in their companies at fixed prices
over time. As more private savings have been recycled into the stock
market through the mutual and money-market funds described above,
prices of these stocks have been bidded up and corporate executives
with stock-option holdings have benefited handsomely. Several
well-known executives have crowed that it has been their brilliant
policies which have created the rising values of their stock, yet it
seems only a few have had the modesty to acknowledge that they have
merely been lucky to ride a new stock-market inflation wave. Indeed,
that wave is being fueled primarily by diversion into stocks of
savings which previously had gone into inflating the real estate
bubble.
With this as background, we can see why Japan has not been able to
emulate the American response to the real estate collapse. In this
regard the two economies fundamentally are different. First, Japan's
banks have held up to a quarter of its stock market's securities.
Liquidating these equities would obviously have crashed the Nikkei
and reserves of Japan's healthy banks as well as reserves of
insurance companies and other major institutional holders would be
wiped out. Second, many individual companies held bank stocks, a
practice which has been the very essence of Japan's system of
crossholdings. Such interlocking was not permitted in the United
States, so no such problem had developed. A third concern has been
how Japan could raise public money (that is, government revenues) to
bail out depositors and policy-holders at insolvent banks and
insurance companies. Of course Japanese politicians could attempt to
tax the wealthy more, especially large real-estate investors. But
such investors have the reputation of being "pillars of the
economy," and have certainly been considered by the LDP as
pillars of the party's campaign contribution system!
No wonder Ministry of Finance officials preferred to delay their
response, hoping that Japan's financial institutions somehow could
ride out the storm, as their U.S. counterparts were doing. But
simply riding out the storm has not happened because the assets
backing Japan's banking system fell too sharply in value when the
Bubble economy collapsed. Falling real estate values have made it
uneconomic for mortgage borrowers (whose mortgages typically exceed
property value) to repay the loans into which Japanese banks had
been recycling most of their deposits. And stocks of Japanese
companies (mainly the banks' major customers) which banks had bought
with money supposedly set aside as reserves, also have declined in
price. Although at first glance Japan's banks in 1991 seemed to face
much the same problem as that which confronted America's S&Ls,
the problem differed and Japan's response could not be the same as
the U.S. response. Indeed, to acknowledge the fall in real estate
and stock market system values would have meant letting more banks
with negative net worth to go under, Japan would have to create a
new banking system.
Thus the question Japan has faced is can it re-inflate its
economy, and if so, what is the best way to do this? How might asset
values be restored to at least a semblance of their former heights,
so as to rescue the financial system's balance sheets? Should bank
depositors be bailed out? Is there sufficient reason to hope that
banks and insurance companies might "earn their way out of
debt?" If so, at whose expense are they to make their earnings?
Should the tax system be changed - and if so, should taxes be raised
on consumption, or on real estate and stock market gains?
The most irresponsible advice to Japan would be for it to "inflate
its way out of debt," or to inflate the stock market and real
estate market so as to restore bank solvency by increasing market
value of bank reserves. Such asset inflation would be achieved by
steering bank loans back into the real estate and stock markets, and
then making real estate speculation more attractive by reducing
taxes and having the government enter the market to bid up prices
directly.
Such an expedient policy would indeed be a far cry from the
traditional (industrial investment) patterns described earlier
whereby Japan's savings were skillfully steered into industrial or
other loans to fund productive investment, employ workers directly,
and finance new technologies needed to maintain Japan's
international competitive position.
Considering deregulation
The most prestigious bank-reform advisors have become lobbyists
for more of the value-free "live for the moment" banking
that got Japan into its Bubble economy in the first place. Their
idea is to remove public regulations on companies, and zone
restrictions on real estate. Removing their obligation to serve
social objectives is supposed to "free" more income to pay
bankers and shareholders. In their view, the economic problem is
primarily a matter of insolvency by the nation's financial sector,
and has no relation to the fact that Japan's financial rentier
overhead has been bleeding the economy.
One problem with such deregulation is its indirect (unforeseen)
effects. That is, the set of effects which deregulation proponents
fail to acknowledge up front which will require heavy public "clean-up"
spending in future years. What is added to private-sector revenues
in the short run will certainly have to be made up by public
expenditures in future years.
Deregulating Japan's economy and letting its banks take desperate
risks in an attempt to earn capital gains quickly (by pyramid
schemes and other financial paper-manipulation) would likely bring
about the same kind of catastrophe that befell the U.S. S&L
industry. Rather than renewing the speculative real estate and stock
market booms, the solution lies in Japan returning to that
successful aspect of its own banking history which industrial
advocates in other countries have admired most: the ability to fund
long-term, socially responsible industrial investment, and to use
such investment as the base of its credit system. The only way to
solve Japan's banking problem is to take an economy-wide approach,
reviving Japanese banking along with the nation's industrial economy
in general.
Conclusion
It should always be remembered that Americans have their own
national interest in mind when advising Japan to inflate its way out
of debt. The effect would be to float the world's stock and bond
markets upward. Much of Japan's surplus liquidity would be recycled
into relatively low-yielding U.S. Treasury bonds. This would free
American savings for more profitable investments in the "controlling
heights" of third world and formerly socialist economies.
The experiences of 1981-96 would not seem to give Japan much
reason to trust American advisors who recommend an Anglo-American
style banking system for Asia. Such advisors seem to be trying to
get other nations to commit economic (and social) suicide at the
same rate as that of the United States. But the Anglo-American
disease - a rentier economy - is terminal. The cure is blocked by
financial, insurance industry and real estate interests converting
their economic power into political power. They are using this power
to re-write tax laws so as to shift taxes off their own takings to
labor and industrial capital, which are the ones which actually
produce the nation's wealth.
Future OW essays will suggest an alternative approach, based on
taxing Japan's land values (and using the proceeds to free labor
income and industrial revenues) rather than freeing them from
taxation to promote a new bubble. This approach will be contrasted
with Prime Minister Hashimoto's present plans to re-inflate Japan's
real estate and stock market bubbles, and to divert the pension
funds of Japanese to this cause rather than to invest directly in
enhancing the nation's productive powers.