Imagine you woke up one day to discover your bank account has been raided by another country's government. Just like that, $1 in every $16 of your supposedly safe money is gone. If you're wealthy enough to have more savings, it could be $1 in $10. Is it a nightmare? The opening chapter of a Kafka story? A Bond villain plot to start a bank run and bring down the government?
Nah, it's just the new reality facing bank depositors in Cyprus. And it might just set off a fresh wave of financial panic in the euro zone. Because we haven't had enough of that lately.
Cyprus is the forgotten sick man of Europe. It's so forgotten that it hasn't even cracked the acronym of troubled European economies (the PIIGS or GIIPS, depending on your taste). But being forgotten has made it no less troubled. It needs money. And Germany isn't exactly enthusiastic about handing over money, particularly in an election year for Chancellor Angela Merkel. Indeed, Germany has insisted on more than its usual pound of austerity in return for a bailout. It's insisted that Cyprus pick up a large part of its own check. And that's been terrible news for Cypriot savers. (And Russians. We'll get there, soon.)
The terms of the Cypriot bailout (and bail-in) are as simple as they are startling. Germany will cough up about $13 billion, and, in exchange, Cyprus will levy a "one-time" tax on bank deposits to raise an additional $7.5 billion. This tax will take 6.75 percent from insured deposits of €100,000 ($129,000) or less, and 9.9 percent from uninsured amounts above €100,000. Depositors will get bank stock equal to whatever they lose from the tax. If you're wondering why anybody would keep their money in a Cypriot bank now, well, they wouldn't. This is an open invitation for an old-fashioned run on their banks. The only reason that isn't happening now is their banks are closed for an extended holiday.
This bailout is the right answer to the wrong question. The wrong question is how Germany can bailout Cyprus (and a bunch of less-than-savory Russians) without risking Merkel's reelection. The right question is how does Germany bailout Cyprus in a way that doesn't risk the future of the euro at all.
Of course, there are all sorts of other questions here, all of them involving the word hell (or some other four-letter variation). Questions like: what the hell were they thinking, why the hell would Cyprus go along with this, and how the hell did an economy equal to 0.2 percent (!!!) of euro zone GDP become any kind of threat to the future of the euro? Well, as has often been the case, the answer begins with too big to fail, and in this case, too big to save, banks.
There's Something Rotten in Cypriot Banks
There are four things you need to know about Cypriot banks. First, they have assets equal to roughly eight times the country's GDP. Second, they get a huge percentage of their deposits from tax-dodging Russians. Third, they invested a ton of money in Greece. And fourth, they are highly dependent on central bank financing to stay afloat. In other words, Cypriot banks are too big for Cyprus to save. But somebody needs to save them.
How did all this money get into Cyprus banks? Like many other small islands, Cyprus has found that turning itself into a tax haven (and money-laundering center) is a pretty lucrative business. Money has poured in from Russian oligarchs and mobsters looking to avoid taxes back home, and that Russian money has bloated Cypriot banks to a size far beyond the government's ability to bail out. Indeed, roughly 37 percent of the island's €68 billion of deposits come from abroad -- and as Kate Mackenzie of FT Alphaville points out, this foreign money makes up €25.5 billion of the €37.6 billion of deposits over €100,000. In other words, almost all of the foreign money is in uninsured accounts, and 68 percent of all uninsured accounts come from abroad.
So, what did Cyprus banks do with all of this money?Well, they invested it where they thought they had a competitive advantage: Greece. After all, southern Cyprus is ethnically Greek (the northern half is occupied by Turkey), and the Greek economy, which is 12 times larger than the Cypriot one, looked like an ideal place to expand. It wasn't. Cypriot loans to the Greek government and businesses have opened black holes on bank balance sheets. In 2012 alone, two of the biggest Cypriot banks, Cyprus Popular and the Bank of Cyprus, lost a combined €3.5 billion on Greek bonds. That's over 10 percent of GDP in a €31.8 billion Cypriot economy. It'd be like if Citigroup and JP Morgan lost $1.5 trillion in a single year (or approximately 250 times the "London Whale" losses).
The Cypriot banking system would have collapsed long ago were it not for emergency funding okayed by the European Central Bank (ECB). Here's how it works. Suppose you run a euro bank desperately short on cash, collateral, and confidence. In other words, you need more money, but you so obviously need more money that nobody will lend it to you except on a secured basis -- and only then against top-notch collateral, which you don't have. Well, this is what lenders-of-last-resort are for, assuming your bank is illiquid and not insolvent. You can take your slightly crappy collateral to the ECB, and get a loan subject to a haircut. Technically-speaking, the worse your collateral, the higher the interest rate the ECB charges you.
But suppose your collateral isn't just slightly crummy; say it's really crummy. Well, don't worry, you're still in luck! The ECB won't give you a loan, but your national central bank will, pending ECB approval. Welcome to the wonderful world of "emergency liquidity assistance" (ELA). Now, this sounds confusing (and that's probably the intent behind it), but it's really not. It's the same idea as before, only with crappier collateral and higher interest rates. Remember, the ECB sets monetary policy for every euro member, but those members retain their own central banks, which carry out the ECB's policy decisions. These national central banks can basically accept any collateral -- really, anything -- as long as they apply more severe haircuts and get the okay from the ECB. The only other big difference here is the national central banks, not the ECB, are on the hook in case of default.
Cypriot banks have stayed alive by gorging on this ELA funding. The chart below from Joseph Cotterill of FT Alphaville shows the balance sheet of the second-biggest Cypriot bank, Laiki. Notice it gets a third of its capital from the central bank. That's, um, a lot.
This dependence on central bank financing leaves Cyprus quite open to, shall we say, ECB persuasion. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call "foreshadowing".
An Offer Cyprus Can't Refuse -- or Can't Accept?
Cyprus needs €17 billion. Germany doesn't want to give it €17 billion. Merkel doesn't want to bail out Russian gangsters in an election year. So she's forcing Cyprus to come up with €7 billion even though the government can't afford it.
There are two ways a broke government could still come up with this money. First, it could force its own creditors or the banks' creditors to take losses. But, as Joseph Cotterill points out, the Cypriot government can't logistically force losses on its foreign lenders, and its domestic lenders are mostly its banks. In other words, the only losses the government can force on its bonds would make the banks' problems all the worse.
That leaves the banks' creditors. Most banks fund themselves with three classes of lenders: junior bondholders, unsecured senior bondholders, and secured senior bondholders, including insured depositors. If the bank goes bust, the secured senior bondholders are at the front of the line for whatever's left, and so on. But Cypriot banks are almost entirely funded with deposits and ELA money. Now, junior bondholders did take €1.4 billion in losses, but there basically no unsecured senior bondholders. As Charles Forelle of the Wall Street Journal points out, the two biggest banks in Cyprus have €46 billion in deposits and €184 million in unsecured senior debt. In plain English, Cyprus has to make its depositors or its national central bank accept €5.8 billion in losses -- and it can't make its national central bank take losses.
So Germany is making Cypriot depositors pay. The questions are which depositors, and how much of their deposits. Cypriot president Nicos Anastasiades originally agreed to a 7 percent levy on deposit amounts above €100,000 and 3 percent below that, but the Germans decided that wasn't enough, according to Peter Spiegel of the Financial Times. When Anastasiades tried to walk out in protest, ECB officials promptly informed him they would cut ELA funding for the second-biggest Cypriot bank, Laiki, if he didn't agree. That would send Laiki into bankruptcy, and cost Cyprus €30 billion, versus the €5.8 billion the Germans wanted. It's quite something when the ECB lets Germany use it as its debt collector. Of course, Anastasiades eventually acquiesced -- though he insisted the top tax rate not exceed 10 percent, likely to preserve Cyprus' future viability as a tax haven. That meant insured depositors had to be charged 6.75 percent to make the math add up.
It's a total clusterf***. These tax rates still has to be approved by the Cypriot parliament, and, well, that's not happening. The vote has already been postponed twice, and the Cypriots are back negotiating what they hope will be more politically acceptable tax rates. Under the latest plan, deposits under €100,00 would get 3 percent haircuts, deposit amounts between €100,000 and €500,000 would get 10 percent haircuts, and amounts over €500,000 would get 15 percent haircuts. This has the virtue of mostly hitting foreign depositors, and mostly sparing poorer, domestic ones. It should pass, but, then again, insured deposits shouldn't be getting hit at all. Should is no guarantee.
Is the Euro Worth 5.8 Billion Euros?
The entire euro crisis comes down to a single question. Is a euro in a Spanish (or a Cypriot) bank worth the same as a euro in a German (or a Dutch) bank?
If Spain leaves the euro, then any euros in its banks will get turned into much cheaper pesetas overnight. Spanish depositors would be entirely rational to move their money to a German bank if they think there's any chance Spain will abandon the common currency. Even a slow-motion bank run would only starve Spain of even more credit, and drag it down even further -- making a euro exit all the more attractive. In other words, it's a self-fulfilling fear.
Or at least it was, until ECB chief Mario Draghi stopped the vicious circle. Last July, he promised to do "whatever it takes" to save the euro -- and those words alone were enough to end the panic. A Spanish euro was worth the same as a German euro once again. But what about a Cypriot euro? The tax on insured deposits resurrects the questions about whether a euro in a peripheral bank is worth the same as one in a core bank. It's just due to fiscal risk now instead of exchange rate risk -- but the effect is the same. Peripheral depositors would once again be rational to move their money. "One-off" events have a way of not always being so.
Now, that's not to say that a continental bank run is looming. Credit default swaps on peripheral debt increased a bit relative to core debt as of 9:45 this morning, as you can see below in the chart from Bloomberg, but there's no sign anything worse will happen. Markets have been mostly calm.
But just because there hasn't been any contagion so far doesn't mean it made sense to risk it over €5.8 billion. There's nothing more destructive than giving people the idea that insured bank deposits are not so inviolable.
It's a dangerous roll of the dice, for not much pay-off.
In 12 of 16 past cases in which a rising power has confronted a ruling power, the result has been bloodshed.
When Barack Obama meets this week with Xi Jinping during the Chinese president’s first state visit to America, one item probably won’t be on their agenda: the possibility that the United States and China could find themselves at war in the next decade. In policy circles, this appears as unlikely as it would be unwise.
And yet 100 years on, World War I offers a sobering reminder of man’s capacity for folly. When we say that war is “inconceivable,” is this a statement about what is possible in the world—or only about what our limited minds can conceive? In 1914, few could imagine slaughter on a scale that demanded a new category: world war. When war ended four years later, Europe lay in ruins: the kaiser gone, the Austro-Hungarian Empire dissolved, the Russian tsar overthrown by the Bolsheviks, France bled for a generation, and England shorn of its youth and treasure. A millennium in which Europe had been the political center of the world came to a crashing halt.
Life in Ohio's proud but economically abandoned small towns
Just over a decade ago, Matt Eich started photographing rural Ohio. Largely inhabited by what is now known as the “Forgotten Class” of white, blue-collar workers, Eich found himself drawn to the proud but economically abandoned small towns of Appalachia. Thanks to grants from the Economic Hardship Reporting Project and Getty Images, Eich was able to capture the family life, drug abuse, poverty, and listlessness of these communities. “Long before Trump was a player on the political scene, long before he was a Republican, these people existed and these problems existed,” Eich said. His new book, Carry Me Ohio, published by Sturm and Drang, is a collection of these images and the first of four books he plans to publish as part of The Invisible Yoke, a photographic meditation on the American condition. Even with a deep knowledge of the region, Eich was unprepared for the fury and energy that surrounded the election this year. “The anger is overpowering,” he said. “I knew what was going on, and I’m still surprised. I should have listened to the pictures.”
A professor of cognitive science argues that the world is nothing like the one we experience through our senses.
As we go about our daily lives, we tend to assume that our perceptions—sights, sounds, textures, tastes—are an accurate portrayal of the real world. Sure, when we stop and think about it—or when we find ourselves fooled by a perceptual illusion—we realize with a jolt that what we perceive is never the world directly, but rather our brain’s best guess at what that world is like, a kind of internal simulation of an external reality. Still, we bank on the fact that our simulation is a reasonably decent one. If it wasn’t, wouldn’t evolution have weeded us out by now? The true reality might be forever beyond our reach, but surely our senses give us at least an inkling of what it’s really like.
A child psychologist argues punishment is a waste of time when trying to eliminate problem behavior. Try this instead.
Say you have a problem child. If it’s a toddler, maybe he smacks his siblings. Or she refuses to put on her shoes as the clock ticks down to your morning meeting at work. If it’s a teenager, maybe he peppers you with obscenities during your all-too-frequent arguments. The answer is to punish them, right?
Not so, says Alan Kazdin, director of the Yale Parenting Center. Punishment might make you feel better, but it won’t change the kid’s behavior. Instead, he advocates for a radical technique in which parents positively reinforce the behavior they do want to see until the negative behavior eventually goes away.
As I was reporting my recent series about child abuse, I came to realize that parents fall roughly into three categories. There’s a small number who seem intuitively to do everything perfectly: Moms and dads with chore charts that actually work and snack-sized bags of organic baby carrots at the ready. There’s an even smaller number who are horrifically abusive to their kids. But the biggest chunk by far are parents in the middle. They’re far from abusive, but they aren’t super-parents, either. They’re busy and stressed, so they’re too lenient one day and too harsh the next. They have outdated or no knowledge of child psychology, and they’re scrambling to figure it all out.
Universities themselves may be contributing to burnout.
With half of all doctoral students leaving graduate school without finishing, something significant and overwhelming must be happening for at least some of them during the process of obtaining that degree. Mental illness is often offered as the standard rationale to explain why some graduate students burn out. Some research has suggested a link between intelligence and conditions such as bipolar disorder, leading some observers to believe many graduate students struggle with mental-health problems that predispose them to burning out.
But such research is debatable, and surely not every student who drops out has a history of mental illness. So, what compels students to abandon their path to a Ph.D.? Could there be other underlying factors, perhaps environmental, that can cause an otherwise-mentally-healthy graduate student to become anxious, depressed, suicidal, or, in rare cases, violent?
President-elect Donald Trump has committed a sharp breach of protocol—one that underscores just how weird some important protocols are.
Updated on December 2 at 7:49 p.m.
It’s hardly remembered now, having been overshadowed a few months later on September 11, but the George W. Bush administration’s first foreign-policy crisis came in the South China Sea. On April 1, 2001, a U.S. Navy surveillance plane collided with a Chinese jet near Hainan Island. The pilot of the Chinese jet was killed, and the American plane was forced to land and its crew was held hostage for 11 days, until a diplomatic agreement was worked out. Sino-American relations remained tense for some time.
Unlike Bush, Donald Trump didn’t need to wait to be inaugurated to set off a crisis in the relationship. He managed that on Friday, with a phone call to the president of Taiwan, Tsai Ing-wen. It’s a sharp breach with protocol, but it’s also just the sort that underscores how weird and incomprehensible some important protocols are.
Crucial votes in Austria and Italy, the deadly fire in California, Fidel Castro’s final resting place, and more from the United States and around the world.
—Austrians voted in a tight presidential race Sunday, electing Alexander Van der Bellen, an independent candidate backed by the Green Party, over Norbert Hofer, the candidate of the right-wing Freedom Party. More here.
—In Italy, voters participated in a referendum on constitutional reform. Prime Minister Matteo Renzi has vowed to resign if the measure fails.
—California officials say the death toll in a fire in Oakland Friday night could rise. Nine people have been confirmed dead. More here.
—The ashes of former Cuban President Fidel Castro were interred in a private ceremony early Sunday in the Santa Ifigenia cemetery, ending a four-day procession across the country. More here.
—We’re live-blogging the news stories of the day below. All updates are in Eastern Standard Time (GMT -5).
A few weeks ago, I was trying to call Cuba. I got an error message—which, okay, international telephone codes are long and my fingers are clumsy—but the phone oddly started dialing again before I could hang up. A voice answered. It had a British accent and it was reading: “...the moon was shining brightly. The Martians had taken away the excavating-machine…”
Apparently, I had somehow called into an audiobook of The War of the Worlds. Suspicious of my clumsy fingers, I double-checked the number. It was correct (weird), but I tried the number again, figuring that at worst, I’d learn what happened after the Martians took away the excavating machine. This time, I got the initial error message and the call disconnected. No Martians.
A century ago, millions of Americans banded together in defense of white, Christian America and traditional morality—and most of their compatriots turned a blind eye to the Ku Klux Klan.
On August 8, 1925, more than 50,000 members of the Ku Klux Klan paraded through Washington, D.C. Some walked in lines as wide as 20 abreast, while others created formations of the letter K or a Christian cross. A few rode on horseback. Many held American flags. Men and women alike, the marchers carried banners emblazoned with the names of their home states or local chapters, and their procession lasted for more than three hours down a Pennsylvania Avenue lined with spectators. National leaders of the organization were resplendent in colorful satin robes and the rank and file wore white, their regalia adorned with a circular red patch containing a cross with a drop of blood at its center.
Nearly all of the marchers wore pointed hoods, but their faces were clearly visible. In part, that was because officials would sanction the parade only if participants agreed to walk unmasked. But a mask was not really necessary, as most members of the Klan saw little reason to hide their faces. After all, there were millions of them in the United States.
Switching pastas and breads is a small decision that could save lives.
Multigrain is a genius approach to selling both white bread and righteousness. The term crept under the umbrella of health quietly. It wasn’t clear why, exactly. (The grain part? Or the multi?) At least it wasn’t white bread, right?
As many eaters of bread came to understand that white bread is a nutritional equivalent of Pixy Stix—the nutritious, fibrous shell of the wheat having been removed, leaving us with only the inner starch, which our bodies almost instantly turn into sugar—it needed some rebranding.
Multigrain is now often used to imply wholesomeness, a virtue to which it often has no claim. Containing the flour of multiple grains does not mean containing whole grains. When millers leave the grain intact before milling, this is whole grain flour. It contains fiber, appeasing the pancreas and microbes that demand it for optimal performance. So, the term to look for is 100 percent whole wheat. (Or wholegrain, though the grain is usually wheat.)