This is a story of pride, prescience, and mild panic among the economy's keepers at the eve of this generation's worst recession
It was the end of the world as we knew it, and the Fed was feeling fine.
Okay, that's not really fair. The transcript of the Federal Reserve's 2007 meetings, months before the economy entered its worst recession since the Great Depression, reveal an institution far from oblivious, with a few notable exceptions. They just didn't quite understand the labyrinthine web of financial interconnections until it was too late.
Back in 2007, the credit crunch that became the Great Recession started when financial institutions realized it might not have been a good idea to loan money to people who couldn't pay you back. But with the economy roaring to new heights, the Fed wasn't in crisis mode -- yet. Panic in the financial markets certainly wasn't good news, but the Fed had managed to make it through similar panics in 1987, when the stock market fell almost a quarter in one day, and in 1998, when hedge fund Long-Term Capital Management nearly brought down the financial system, without the real economy suffering any harm. This time didn't need to be different. And, to be fair, the Fed was well aware of the risks piling up in the financial system as the clock ticked down to Lehman. It didn't even really make any big mistakes in 2007; those came later. So while it's easy to mock the Fed for saying Bear Stearns and Countrywide didn't have too much trouble getting liquidity in August 2007 ... but it was true at the time! They only ran into problems, the kind that drove them into bankruptcy and/or mergers, later.
Below are the six most revealing passages from the Fed's pre-crisis meetings, with a key sentence of each quote underlined. Beyond the inflation hawks who managed to see price increases under every rock, they were mostly right in their analyses. They just weren't right enough. Or quickly enough.
Ben Bernanke, August 10, 2007:
Our goal is to provide liquidity not to support asset prices per se in any way. My understanding of the market's problem is that price discovery has been inhibited by the illiquidity of the subprime-related assets that are not trading, and nobody knows what they're worth, and so there's a general freeze-up. The market is not operating in a normal way. The idea of providing liquidity is essentially to give the market some ability to do the appropriate repricing it needs to do and to begin to operate more normally. So it's a question of market functioning, not a question of bailing anybody out.
This is what a central banker says when things start to hit the fan. The day prior, French bank BNP Paribas had sent the financial world into a frenzy when it announced it wouldn't let investors cash out of two of its subprime funds, because the bank had no idea what they were worth. Nobody would buy, and when that happens, the "price" is pretty much zero. But as Bob Peston of the BBC pointed out at the time, the scariest bit was that BNP Paribas itself didn't want to buy these bonds on the cheap. The bank wasn't sure they weren't totally worthless, too. And if banks (and shadow banks like hedge funds or special investment vehicles) were sitting on top of piles of genuinely worthless bonds, who would want to lend them? Answer: nobody, at least not without top-notch collateral. Hello, credit crunch.
Ben Bernanke, August 16, 2007:
So I wouldn't say that a rate cut is completely off the table, but my own feeling is that we should try to resist a rate cut until it is really very clear from economic data and other information that it is needed. I'd really prefer to avoid giving any impression of a bailout or a put, if we can. Therefore, what I'm going to suggest today is to offer a statement updating our views of the economy that will give some signal about where we think things are going but to stop short today of changing rates.
A week later, things weren't any better. Financial institutions still didn't want to lend to each other except against the best collateral, and markets still didn't exist for subprime securities. Bernanke's dilemma was whether to 1) just expand emergency lending to the banks, or 2) cut interest rates too. But with the real economy humming despite the financial turmoil, Bernanke worried the latter would look too much like a bailout (or a "put" option) for Wall Street.
Bill Dudley, September 18, 2007:
At the same time, this balance sheet pressure and worries about counterparty risk have led to a significant rise in term borrowing rates. Banks that are sellers of funds have shifted to the overnight market to preserve their liquidity, and this shift has starved the term market of funds, pushing those rates higher .... Moreover, the increased reliance by banks on overnight funding increases rollover risk and may limit the willingness of banks to expand their balance sheets to accommodate the deleveraging of the nonbank financial sector.
This is one of the driest descriptions of financial armageddon you'll ever read. Let's translate it into English. Banks knew they were all sitting on top of toxic waste, but nobody knew who was sitting on the most of it -- so they wouldn't lend to each other, except at punitively high rates, for anything longer than a day. But relying on such overnight funding made the banks vulnerable to de facto bank runs, and that made vulnerability made them less likely to keep lending even as shadow banks cut back on lending. In other words, a credit crunch. And less credit just when borrowers most needed it meant more people would eventually go bust ... hurting mortgage bonds even more, and making banks pull back further. Loops don't get much more vicious.
Janet Yellen, December 11, 2007:
The possibilities of a credit crunch developing and of the economy slipping into a recession seem all too real .... I am particularly concerned that we may now be seeing the first signs of spillovers from the housing and financial sectors to the broader economy .... Although I don't foresee conditions in the banking sector getting as bleak as during the credit crunch of the early 1990s, the parallels to those events are striking. Back then, we saw a large number of bank failures in the contraction of the savings and loan sector. In the current situation, most banks are still in pretty good shape. Instead, it is the shadow banking sector-- that is, the set of markets in which a variety of securitized assets are financed by the issuance of commercial paper--that is where the failures have occurred. This sector is all but shut for new business. But bank capital is also an issue. Until the securitization of nonconforming mortgage lending reemerges, financing will depend on the willingness and ability of banks, thrifts, and the GSEs to step in to fill the breach.
The Great Recession was just about to officially begin (although NBER wouldn't announce that until much later), and more members of the Fed were contemplating the Rube Goldberg machine of doom subprime had set off. As Yellen pointed out here, the shadow banking system was already in hibernation at this point, although it wasn't clear whether regular banks would be able to step in the breach and keep things moving. (Spoiler alert: They weren't).
Frederic Mishkin, December 11, 2007:
In particular, there are two scenarios that they go into separately--the housing correction scenario and the credit crunch scenario. I think that there's a very strong possibility those would come together because, if housing prices go down more, that creates a much more serious problem in terms of valuation risk, and a serious problem in valuation risk will mean a further credit market disruption, which then can lead to more macroeconomic risk because it leads to this downward spiral. The real economy gets worse.
These are about the three most prescient sentences you'll find in the Fed transcripts. Miskin was concerned that subprime wasn't, as Bernanke had previously put it, contained, and that a further fall in housing would mean further damage to bank and shadow bank balance sheets, which would make them even less likely to lend. The ultimate danger, as Mishkin pointed out, was that this credit crunch would migrate from the financial to the real economy; that not just banks, but households too, wouldn't be able to borrow. The pyramid of debt that existed in 2007 was like a shark -- it had to keep moving to live. If households spent less because they couldn't borrow more, the economy would slow down, and more people would default on their debts. In other words, exactly what did happen would happen. Of course, it still wasn't clear how precarious the financial sector was beyond the shadow banks. Again, from Mishkin.
You don't like to use the R word, but the probability of recession is, I think, nearing 50 percent, and that really worries me very much. I also think that there's even a possibility that a recession could be reasonably severe, though not a disaster. Luckily all of this has happened with an economy that was pretty strong and with banks having good balance sheets; otherwise it could really be a potential disaster.
Richard Fisher, December 11, 2007:
I'd like to address the inflation situation more thoroughly, Mr. Chairman. The CEO of Wal-Mart USA said that, for the first time in his career at that firm, they have approved a plan in which purchase costs will increase 3 percent in '08. He hadn't seen that before in his experience and said, "I'm totally used to deflation. Deflation is finished." In terms of the suppliers to Wal-Mart, this was verified. I think on food prices we have to be extremely careful. Frito-Lay is seeking a 51⁄2 percent price increase for next year. Wal-Mart has acquiesced.
No, I didn't make this one up. And yes, just as the biggest deflationary spiral in 80 years was about to hit the economy, Fisher was worried about inflation. And he was worried about inflation, because ... Frito-Lay was thinking about increasing prices 5.5 percent the following year. This is not a joke. Well, it is a joke, but, again, not one that I made up.
For decades the Man of Steel has failed to find his groove, thanks to a continual misunderstanding of his strengths.
Superman should be invincible. Since his car-smashing debut in 1938, he’s starred in at least one regular monthly comic, three blockbuster films, and four television shows. His crest is recognized across the globe, his supporting cast is legendary, and anybody even vaguely familiar with comics can recount the broad strokes of his origin. (The writer Grant Morrison accomplished it in eight words: “Doomed Planet. Desperate Scientists. Last Hope. Kindly Couple.”) He’s the first of the superheroes, a genre that’s grown into a modern mass-media juggernaut.
And yet, for a character who gains his power from the light of the sun, Superman is curiously eclipsed by other heroes. According to numbers provided by Diamond Distributors, the long-running Superman comic sold only 55,000 copies a month in 2015, down from around 70,000 in 2010—a mediocre showing even for the famously anemic comic-book market. That’s significantly less than his colleague Batman, who last year moved issues at a comparatively brisk 150,000 a month. Mass media hasn’t been much kinder: The longest-running Superman television show, 2001’s Smallville, kept him out of his iconic suit for a decade. Superman Returns recouped its budget at the box office, but proved mostly forgettable.2013’s Man of Steel drew sharp criticism from critics and audiences alike for its bleak tone and rampaging finale. Trailers for the sequel, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, have shifted the focus (and top billing) to the Dark Knight. Worst of all, conventional wisdom puts the blame on Superman himself. He’s boring, people say; he’s unrelatable, nothing like the Marvel characters dominating the sales charts and the box office. More than anything, he seems embarrassing. Look at him. Truth? Justice? He wears his underwear on the outside.
Immediately, the pings from fellow journalists (and media-adjacent folk) came pouring in, all saying something along the lines of, “Can you actually let me know what you find out? I’m addicted to that stuff.”
They mean “addicted” in the jokey, dark-chocolate-and-Netflix-streaming way, but the habit can border on pathological. For me, rock bottom was a recent, obscenely long workday during which an entire 12-pack of coconut La Croix somehow made it down my throat, can by shining can.
The Denver Broncos beat the Carolina Panthers, but neither Peyton Manning nor Cam Newton seemed able to prove their worth.
Now more than ever, the NFL is all about the quarterbacks. The buildup to Super Bowl 50 proved no exception: In the two weeks prior to Sunday night’s game in Santa Clara, the national conversation largely centered on the signal-callers, whose styles of play and off-field personas were pored over in every manner imaginable by an army of reporters and analysts. The game’s two possible outcomes were pre-cast as career-defining triumphs for the passers. If the Denver Broncos won, it would be a rousing sendoff for the potentially retiring all-time great Peyton Manning. If the Carolina Panthers won, it would be a coronation for Cam Newton, this season’s Most Valuable Player.
The Broncos beat the Panthers, 24-10, but the game featured none of the displays of virtuosity fans of Manning or Newton might have hoped for. It was a plodding, mistake-riddled affair, all stuffed runs and stalled drives. Maybe the most miraculous thing about the game was that it ended at all; it seemed for a time that it might simply give out somewhere along the way, leaving the Denver and Carolina players to wander around Levi’s Stadium until the resumption of football next fall.
The Islamic State is no mere collection of psychopaths. It is a religious group with carefully considered beliefs, among them that it is a key agent of the coming apocalypse. Here’s what that means for its strategy—and for how to stop it.
What is the Islamic State?
Where did it come from, and what are its intentions? The simplicity of these questions can be deceiving, and few Western leaders seem to know the answers. In December, The New York Times published confidential comments by Major General Michael K. Nagata, the Special Operations commander for the United States in the Middle East, admitting that he had hardly begun figuring out the Islamic State’s appeal. “We have not defeated the idea,” he said. “We do not even understand the idea.” In the past year, President Obama has referred to the Islamic State, variously, as “not Islamic” and as al-Qaeda’s “jayvee team,” statements that reflected confusion about the group, and may have contributed to significant strategic errors.
The charismatic senator’s candidacy was flying high—until he hit turbulence at Saturday’s debate. Will it stall his surge?
MANCHESTER, New Hampshire—Until Saturday’s debate, it was clear that this was Marco Rubio’s moment.
The moment he had waited for, planned for, anticipated for months, for years: It was happening. He had surged into a strong third-place finish in Iowa, outpacing the polls and nearly passing second-place Donald Trump. He’d ridden into New Hampshire on a full head of steam, drawing bigger and bigger crowds at every stop, ticking steadily up into second in most polls, behind the still-dominant Trump. The other candidates were training their fire on him, hoping to stop the golden boy in his tracks.
And then, in the debate, he faced the test he knew was imminent. They came right at him. First it was the moderator, David Muir of ABC News, leveling the accusation put forth by his rivals: that Rubio was merely a good talker with nothing to show for it, just like another eloquent, inexperienced young senator, Barack Obama.
Thenew Daily Show host, Trevor Noah, is smooth and charming, but he hasn’t found his edge.
It’s a psychic law of the American workplace: By the time you give your notice, you’ve already left. You’ve checked out, and for the days or weeks that remain, a kind of placeholder-you, a you-cipher, will be doing your job. It’s a law that applies equally to dog walkers, accountants, and spoof TV anchormen. Jon Stewart announced that he was quitting The Daily Show in February 2015, but he stuck around until early August, and those last months had a restless, frazzled, long-lingering feel. A smell of ashes was in the air. The host himself suddenly looked quite old: beaky, pique-y, hollow-cheeky. For 16 years he had shaken his bells, jumped and jangled in his little host’s chair, the only man on TV who could caper while sitting behind a desk. Flash back to his first episode as the Daily Show host, succeeding Craig Kilborn: January 11, 1999, Stewart with floppy, luscious black hair, twitching in a new suit (“I feel like this is my bar mitzvah … I have a rash like you wouldn’t believe.”) while he interviews Michael J. Fox.
Hillary Clinton’s realistic attitude is the only thing that can effect change in today’s political climate.
Bernie Sanders and Ted Cruz have something in common. Both have an electoral strategy predicated on the ability of a purist candidate to revolutionize the electorate—bringing droves of chronic non-voters to the polls because at last they have a choice, not an echo—and along the way transforming the political system. Sanders can point to his large crowds and impressive, even astonishing, success at tapping into a small-donor base that exceeds, in breadth and depth, the remarkable one built in 2008 by Barack Obama. Cruz points to his extraordinarily sophisticated voter-identification operation, one that certainly seemed to do the trick in Iowa.
But is there any real evidence that there is a hidden “sleeper cell” of potential voters who are waiting for the signal to emerge and transform the electorate? No. Small-donor contributions are meaningful and a sign of underlying enthusiasm among a slice of the electorate, but they represent a tiny sliver even of that slice; Ron Paul’s success at fundraising (and his big crowds at rallies) misled many analysts into believing that he would make a strong showing in Republican primaries when he ran for president. He flopped.
The three leading candidates—Trump, Cruz, and Rubio—stumbled, as the governors in the race made their presence felt.
When is it bad to be a frontrunner? During a presidential debate three days before the New Hampshire primary, evidently. At Saturday night’s forum in Manchester, Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz, and Donald Trump all hit rough patches, while three often-overshadowed governors—Chris Christie, Jeb Bush, and John Kasich—delivered some of their strongest moments of the campaign so far.
Rubio, surging nationwide and in New Hampshire, believed he had a target pinned to his back coming in, and he was right. Christie was the hatchet man, coming after Rubio in the earliest moments of the debate and never letting up. (At one point, Christie even pivoted from responding to an attack by John Kasich to slam Rubio.) Christie jabbed that Rubio, as a senator, doesn’t have the executive experience needed to be president, citing Barack Obama as a cautionary tale. Rubio was ready with an answer to that: “This notion that Barack Obama doesn't know what he's doing?” he said. “He knows exactly what he's doing.” Rubio isn’t the only candidate to suggest that Obama is more evil genius than bumbling fool—Ted Cruz has done the same—but the crowd wasn’t buying it. Maybe Rubio’s phrasing was just too clever.
What happened when 11 exiles armed themselves for a violent night in the Gambia
In the dark hours of the morning on December 30, 2014, eight men gathered in a graveyard a mile down the road from the official residence of Yahya Jammeh, the president of the Gambia. The State House overlooks the Atlantic Ocean from the capital city of Banjul, on an island at the mouth of the Gambia River. It was built in the 1820s and served as the governor’s mansion through the end of British colonialism, in 1965. Trees and high walls separate the house from the road, obscuring any light inside.
The men were dressed in boots and dark pants, and as two of them stood guard, the rest donned Kevlar helmets and leather gloves, strapped on body armor and CamelBaks, and loaded their guns. Their plan was to storm the presidential compound, win over the military, and install their own civilian leader. They hoped to gain control of the country by New Year’s Day.
How a Mexican gangster turned a cartel into a cult
Nazario Moreno Gonzalez—also known as El Chayo, or El Mas Loco, the Maddest One—first died in December 2010. Mexican federal police claimed they killed Nazario, one of Mexico’s most brutal criminal warlords, during a ferocious battle involving 2,000 federal officers and about 500 gangsters. But his henchmen carried his corpse away.
A grave appeared with his name on it. (Apparently, police didn’t want to dig it up and check.) The president at the time, Felipe Calderon, trumpeted the crime lord’s demise as a grand victory in his war on the drug cartels. But after Nazario’s supposed death, his followers began venerating him like a saint, and statuettes and shrines appeared. Even more bizarrely, people reported seeing his ghost wandering around his home state of Michoacan dressed all in white. Under the leadership of this phantom saint, Nazario’s criminal organization, which took the name Knights Templar after the legendary warrior monks of the Middle Ages, became more powerful than ever.