Where do we go when we die?
We go back to where we came from
And where was that?
I don’t know, I
can’t remember
- Virginia Woolf, “The Hours”
By William H. Gross
I don’t remember much of this life, and like Virginia
Woolf, nothing of the herebefore. How then, could I expect to know of the
hereafter? I know at least that we all exist at and of the
moment and that we make up those moments as we go along. I became a grandfather
for the first time a few months ago and proud son Jeff asked for some fatherly
advice as to how to go about raising his baby daughter Caroline. “We all do it
in our own way, Jeff, you’ll make it up as you go along,” I said. Parenting,
and life itself, is one giant experiment. From those first infant steps, to
adolescent peer testing, flying from and departing the parental nest, gene
replication and family building of our own, maturity and acquiescence, aging,
decay and inevitable death – we experiment as best we can and make it up as we
go along. That death part though, oh where do we go after we have done all the making? There was another Jeff in our family, beloved brother-in-law Jeff Stubban who was as kind a man as there ever could be. Dying within three months of an initial diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, our family sobbed uncontrollably at his bedside as his breath, his spirit, his soul, departed almost on cue while a priest recited the rosary. Where had he gone, where is he now, what will become of him and all of us? Like many grieving families we look for signs of him and in turn for clues to our own destination. A lucky penny in the street, a random mention of his beloved New Orleans, an exterior resemblance of his shiny bald head in a mingling crowd. Where are you, Jeff? Tell us you are safe so that we might meet again.
Having now matured to trust reason more than faith I
offer not so much a resolution, but an alternative to the unanswerable question
of Virginia Woolf and the departed souls of Jeff Stubban and billions of
others. If we don’t meet again – up there – then perhaps we’ll meet once more –
down here. After all, the one thing I know for sure is that we got here once –
and because we did, we could do it again. Rest easy, dear Jeff, and welcome to
this world, dear Caroline. We’ll all just have to make it up as we go
along.
The transition from a levering, asset-inflating
secular economy to a post bubble delevering era may be as difficult for one to
imagine as our departure into the hereafter. A multitude of liability
structures dependent on a certain level of nominal GDP growth require just that
– nominal GDP growth with a little bit of inflation, a little bit of growth
which in combination justify embedded costs of debt or liability structures
that minimize the haircutting of or defaulting on prior
debt commitments. Global central bank monetary policy – whether explicitly
communicated or not – is now geared to keeping nominal GDP close to historical
levels as is fiscal deficit spending that substitutes for a delevering private
sector.
Yet the imagination and management of the transition
ushers forth a plethora of disparate policy solutions. Most observers, however,
would agree that monetary and fiscal excesses carry with them explicit
costs. Letting your pet retriever roam the woods might do wonders for his
“animal spirits,” for instance, but he could come back infested with fleas,
ticks, leeches or worse. Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke, dog-lover or not,
preannounced an awareness of the deleterious side effects of quantitative
easing several years ago in a significant speech at Jackson Hole. Ever since,
he has been open and honest about the drawbacks of a zero interest rate policy,
but has plowed ahead and unleashed his “QE bowser” into the wild with the
understanding that the negative consequences of not doing so
would be far worse. At his November 2011 post-FOMC news briefing, for instance,
he noted that “we are quite aware that very low interest rates, particularly
for a protracted period, do have costs for a lot of people” – savers, pension
funds, insurance companies and finance-based institutions among them. He
countered though that “there is a greater good here, which is the health and
recovery of the U.S. economy, and for that purpose we’ve been keeping monetary
policy conditions accommodative.”
My goal in this Investment Outlook is
not to pick a “doggie bone” with the Chairman. He is makin’ it up as he goes
along in order to softly delever a credit-based financial system which became
egregiously overlevered and assumed far too much risk long before his watch
began. My intent really is to alert you, the reader, to the significant costs
that may be ahead for a global economy and financial marketplace still
functioning under the assumption that cheap and abundant central bank credit is
always a positive dynamic. When interest rates approach the zero bound they may
transition from historically stimulative to potentially
destimulative/regressive influences. Much like the laws of physics change from
the world of Newtonian large objects to the world of quantum Einsteinian
dynamics, so too might low interest rates at the zero-bound reorient previously
held models that justified the stimulative effects of lower and lower yields on
asset prices and the real economy.
It is instructive to mention that this is not
necessarily PIMCO’s view alone. Chairman Bernanke and Fed staff members have
been sniffin’ this trail like the good hound dogs they are for some time now.
In addition, Credit Suisse, in their “2012 Global Outlook,” devoted
considerable pages to specifics of zero-based money with commonsensical
historical comparisons to Japan over the past decade or so. The following pages
of this Outlook will do the same. At the heart of the
theory, however, is that zero-bound interest rates do not always and
necessarily force investors to take more risk by purchasing stocks or real
estate, to cite the classic central bank thesis. First of all, when
rational or irrational fear persuades an investor to be more
concerned about the return of her money than on her
money then liquidity can be trapped in a mattress, a bank account or a five
basis point Treasury bill. But that commonsensical observation is well known to
Fed policymakers, economic historians and certainly citizens on Main
Street.
What perhaps is not so often recognized is that
liquidity can be trapped by the “price” of credit, in addition to its “risk.”
Capitalism depends on risk-taking in several forms. Developers, homeowners,
entrepreneurs of all shapes and sizes epitomize the riskiness of business
building via equity and credit risk extension. But modern capitalism is
dependent as well on maturity extension in credit markets. No venture, aside
from one financed with 100% owners’ capital, could survive on credit or loans
that matured or were callable overnight. Buildings, utilities and homes require
20- and 30-year loan commitments to smooth and justify their returns. Because this
is so, lenders require a yield premium, expressed as a positively
sloped yield curve, to make the extended loan. A flat yield
curve, in contrast, is a disincentive for lenders to lend unless there
is sufficient downside room for yields to fall and provide bond market capital
gains. This nominal or even real interest rate “margin” is why prior cyclical
periods of curve flatness or even inversion have been successfully followed by
economic expansions. Intermediate and long rates – even though flat and equal
to a short-term policy rate – have had room to fall, and credit therefore has
not been trapped by “price.”
When all yields approach the zero-bound, however, as
in Japan for the past 10 years, and now in the U.S. and selected “clean dirty
shirt” sovereigns, then the dynamics may change. Money can become less
liquid and frozen by “price” in addition to the classic liquidity trap
explained by “risk.”
Even if nodding in agreement, an observer might
immediately comment that today’s yield curve is anything but flat
and that might be true. Most short to intermediate Treasury yields, however,
are dangerously close to the zero-bound which imply little if any room to fall:
no margin, no air underneath those bond yields and therefore limited, if any,
price appreciation. What incentive does a bank have to buy two-year Treasuries
at 20 basis points when they can park overnight reserves with the Fed at 25?
What incentives do investment managers or even individual investors have to
take price risk with a five-, 10- or 30-year Treasury when there are multiples
of downside price risk compared to appreciation? At 75 basis points, a
five-year Treasury can only rationally appreciate by two more points, but
theoretically can go down by an unlimited amount. Duration risk and flatness
at the zero-bound, to make the simple point, can freeze and trap liquidity by
convincing investors to hold cash as opposed to extend credit.
Where else can one go, however? We can’t put $100
trillion of credit in a system-wide mattress, can we? Of course not, but we can
move in that direction by delevering and refusing to extend maturities and
duration. Recent central
bank behavior, including that of the U.S. Fed, provides assurances that short
and intermediate yields will not change, and therefore bond prices are not
likely threatened on the downside. Still, zero-bound money may kill as opposed
to create credit. Developed economies where these low yields reside may suffer
accordingly. It may as well, induce inflationary distortions that give a rise
to commodities and gold as store of value alternatives when there is little
value left in paper.
Where does credit go when it dies? It goes back to
where it came from. It delevers, it slows and inhibits economic growth, and it
turns economic theory upside down, ultimately challenging the wisdom of
policymakers. We’ll all be making this up as we go along for what may seem like
an eternity. A 30-50 year virtuous cycle of credit expansion which has produced
outsize paranormal returns for financial assets – bonds, stocks, real estate
and commodities alike – is now delevering because of excessive “risk” and the
“price” of money at the zero-bound. We are witnessing the death of abundance
and the borning of austerity, for what may be a long, long time.
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