By John Mauldin
"To trace something unknown back to something known is alleviating, soothing, gratifying and gives moreover a feeling of power. Danger, disquiet, anxiety attend the unknown – the first instinct is to eliminate these distressing states. First principle: any explanation is better than none… The cause-creating drive is thus conditioned and excited by the feeling of fear …"
– Friedrich Nietzsche
"Any explanation is
better than none." And the simpler, it seems, in the investment game, the
better. "The markets went up because oil went down," we are told.
Then the next day the opposite relationship occurs, and there is another reason
for the movement of the markets. But we all intuitively know that things are
far more complicated than that. As Nietzsche noted, dealing with the unknown
can be disturbing, so we look for the simple explanation.
"Ah," we tell
ourselves, "I know why that happened." With an explanation firmly in
mind, we now feel we know something. And the behavioral psychologists note that
this state actually releases chemicals in our brain that make us feel good. We
literally become addicted to the simple explanation. The fact that what we
"know" (the explanation for the unknowable) is irrelevant or even
wrong is not important for the chemical release. And thus we look eagerly for
reasons.
And that is also why some
people get so angry when you challenge their beliefs. You are literally taking
away the source of their good feeling, like drugs from a junkie or a boyfriend
from a teenage girl.
Thus we reason that the NASDAQ
bubble happened because of Greenspan. Or that it was a collective mania. Or any
number of things. Just as the proverbial butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon triggers a storm in
Europe, we may conclude that a borrower in Las Vegas triggered the subprime
crash.
Crazy? Maybe not. Today we
will look at what complexity theory tells us about the reasons for phenomena as
apparently diverse as earthquakes and the movement of markets. Then we’ll look
at how New Zealand, Fed policy, gold, oil, and that lone investor in St. Louis
are all tied together in a critical state. Of course, how
critical and which state are the issues.
This is an encore appearance of the letter that is clearly the most popular one I have ever written, updated with a few thoughts from recent times (it was also part of a chapter in Endgame). Numerous reviewers have stated that this one letter should be read every year. As you read, or reread, I’ll be enjoying a week off. I have gone off to a secret location to relax and get away, all by my lonesome, which is something I have really not done for years. It will be interesting to see if I can adjust to all the peace and quiet, but so far I am coping quite well. And now, let’s think about ubiquity.
Ubiquity, Complexity Theory,
and Sandpiles
We are going to start our
explorations with excerpts from a very important book by Mark Buchanan,
called Ubiquity: Why Catastrophes Happen. I HIGHLY recommend
it to those of you who, like me, are trying to understand the complexity of the
markets. Not directly about investing, although he touches on it, it is about chaos
theory, complexity theory and critical states. It is written in a manner any
layman can understand. There are no equations, just easy to grasp, well-written
stories and analogies.www.amazom.com/ubiquity.
As kids, we all had the fun of
going to the beach and playing in the sand. Remember taking your plastic
buckets and making sand piles? Slowly pouring the sand into an ever bigger
pile, until one side of the pile started an avalanche?
Imagine, Buchanan says,
dropping one grain of sand after another onto a table. A pile soon develops.
Eventually, just one grain starts an avalanche. Most of the time it is a small
one, but sometimes it builds on itself and it seems like one whole side of the
pile slides down to the bottom.
Well, in 1987 three
physicists, named Per Bak, Chao Tang, and Kurt Weisenfeld began to play the
sandpile game in their lab at Brookhaven National Laboratory in New York. Now,
actually piling up one grain of sand at a time is a slow process, so they wrote
a computer program to do it. Not as much fun, but a whole lot faster. Not that
they really cared about sandpiles. They were more interested in what are called
non equilibrium systems.
They learned some interesting
things. What is the typical size of an avalanche? After a huge number of tests
with millions of grains of sand, they found that there is no typical number.
"Some involved a single grain; others, ten, a hundred or a thousand. Still
others were pile-wide cataclysms involving millions that brought nearly the
whole mountain down. At any time, literally anything, it seemed, might be just
about to occur."
The piles were indeed
completely chaotic in their unpredictability. Now, let’s read this next
paragraph from Buchanan slowly. It is important, as it creates a mental image
that may help us understand the organization of the financial markets and the
world economy. (emphasis mine)
"To find out why [such
unpredictability] should show up in their sandpile game, Bak and colleagues next
played a trick with their computer. Imagine peering down on the pile from
above, and coloring it in according to its steepness. Where it is relatively flat
and stable, color it green; where steep and, in avalanche terms, ‘ready to go,’
color it red. What do you see? They found that at the outset the pile looked
mostly green, but that, as the pile grew, the green became infiltrated with
ever more red. With more grains, the scattering of red danger spots grew until
a dense skeleton of instability ran through the pile. Here then was a
clue to its peculiar behavior: a grain falling on a red spot can, by
domino-like action, cause sliding at other nearby red spots. If the
red network was sparse, and all trouble spots were well isolated one from the
other, then a single grain could have only limited repercussions. But when the
red spots come to riddle the pile, the consequences of the next grain become
fiendishly unpredictable. It might trigger only a few tumblings, or it might
instead set off a cataclysmic chain reaction involving millions. The sandpile
seemed to have configured itself into a hypersensitive and peculiarly unstable
condition in which the next falling grain could trigger a response of any size
whatsoever."
Something only a math nerd
could love? Scientists refer to this as a critical state. The term critical
state can mean the point at which water would go to ice or steam, or the moment
that critical mass induces a nuclear reaction, etc. It is the point at which
something triggers a change in the basic nature or character of the object or
group. Thus, (and very casually for all you physicists) we refer to something
being in a critical state (or use the term critical mass) when there is the
opportunity for significant change.
"But to physicists, [the
critical state] has always been seen as a kind of theoretical freak and
sideshow, a devilishly unstable and unusual condition that arises only under
the most exceptional circumstances [in highly controlled experiments]… In the
sandpile game, however, a critical state seemed to arise naturally through the
mindless sprinkling of grains."
Thus, they asked themselves,
could this phenomenon show up elsewhere? In the earth’s crust triggering
earthquakes, or as wholesale changes in an ecosystem – or as a stock market
crash? "Could the special organization of the critical state explain why
the world at large seems so susceptible to unpredictable upheavals?" Could
it help us understand not just earthquakes, but why cartoons in a third rate
paper in Denmark could cause world-wide riots?
Buchanan concludes in his
opening chapter: "There are many subtleties and twists in the story … but
the basic message, roughly speaking, is simple: The peculiar and exceptionally
unstable organization of the critical state does indeed seem to be ubiquitous
in our world. Researchers in the past few years have found its mathematical
fingerprints in the workings of all the upheavals I’ve mentioned so far
[earthquakes, eco-disasters, market crashes], as well as in the spreading of
epidemics, the flaring of traffic jams, the patterns by which instructions
trickle down from managers to workers in the office, and in many other things.
At the heart of our story, then, lies the discovery that networks of things of
all kinds – atoms, molecules, species, people, and even ideas – have a marked
tendency to organize themselves along similar lines. On the basis of this
insight, scientists are finally beginning to fathom what lies behind tumultuous
events of all sorts, and to see patterns at work where they have never seen
them before."
Now, let’s think about this
for a moment. Going back to the sandpile game, you find that as you double the
number of grains of sand involved in an avalanche, the probability of an avalanche
becomes 2.14 times more likely. We find something similar in earthquakes. In
terms of energy, the data indicate that earthquakes become four times less
likely each time you double the energy they release. Mathematicians refer to
this as a "power law," a special mathematical pattern that stands out
in contrast to the overall complexity of the earthquake process.
So what happens in our game?
"…after the pile evolves into a critical state, many grains rest just on
the verge of tumbling, and these grains link up into ‘fingers of instability’
of all possible lengths. While many are short, others slice through the pile
from one end to the other. So the chain reaction triggered by a single grain
might lead to an avalanche of any size whatsoever, depending on whether that
grain fell on a short, intermediate or long finger of instability."
Now, we come to a critical
point in our discussion of the critical state. Again, read this with the
markets in mind (again, emphasis mine):
"In this simplified
setting of the sandpile, the power law also points to something else: the
surprising conclusion that even the greatest of events have no special or
exceptional causes. After all, every avalanche large or small starts
out the same way, when a single grain falls and makes the pile just slightly
too steep at one point. What makes one avalanche much larger than another
has nothing to do with its original cause, and nothing to do with some special
situation in the pile just before it starts. Rather, it has to do with the
perpetually unstable organization of the critical state, which makes it always
possible for the next grain to trigger an avalanche of any size."
Now, let’s couple this idea
with a few other concepts. First, Hyman Minsky (who should have been a Nobel
laureate) points out that stability leads to instability. The more comfortable
we get with a given condition or trend, the longer it will persist and then
when the trend fails, the more dramatic the correction. The problem with long
term macroeconomic stability is that it tends to produce unstable financial
arrangements. If we believe that tomorrow and next year will be the same as
last week and last year, we are more willing to add debt or postpone savings in
favor of current consumption. Thus, says Minsky, the longer the period of
stability, the higher the potential risk for even greater instability when
market participants must change their behavior.
Relating this to our sandpile,
the longer that a critical state builds up in an economy, or in other words,
the more "fingers of instability" that are allowed to develop a
connection to other fingers of instability, the greater the potential for a
serious "avalanche."
Or, maybe a series of smaller
shocks lessens the long reach of the fingers of instability, giving a
paradoxical rise to even more apparent stability. As the late Hunt Taylor
wrote:
"Let us start with what
we know. First, these markets look nothing like anything I’ve ever encountered
before. Their stunning complexity, the staggering number of tradable
instruments and their interconnectedness, the light-speed at which information
moves, the degree to which the movement of one instrument triggers nonlinear
reactions along chains of related derivatives, and the requisite level of
mathematics necessary to price them speak to the reality that we are now
sailing in uncharted waters….
"I’ve had 30-plus years
of learning experiences in markets, all of which tell me that technology and
telecommunications will not do away with human greed and ignorance. I think we
will drive the car faster and faster until something bad happens. And I think
it will come, like a comet, from that part of the night sky where we least
expect it. This is something old.
"I think shocks will
come, but they will be shallower, shorter. They will be harder to predict,
because we are not really managing risk anymore. We are managing
uncertainty – too many new variables, plus leverage on a scale we have
never encountered (something borrowed). And, when the inevitable occurs, the
buying opportunities that result will be won by the technologically enabled
swift."
Another way to think about it
is the way Didier Sornette, a French geophysicist, has described financial
crashes in his wonderful book Why Stock Markets Crash (the
math, though, was far beyond me!). He wrote, "[T]he specific manner by
which prices collapsed is not the most important problem: a crash occurs
because the market has entered an unstable phase and any small disturbance or
process may have triggered the instability. Think of a ruler held up vertically
on your finger: this very unstable position will lead eventually to its
collapse, as a result of a small (or an absence of adequate) motion of your
hand or due to any tiny whiff of air. The collapse is fundamentally due to the
unstable position; the instantaneous cause of the collapse is secondary."
When things are unstable, it
isn’t the last grain of sand that causes the pile to collapse or the slight
breeze that causes the ruler on your fingertip to fall. Those are the
"proximate" causes. They’re the closest reasons at hand for the
collapse. The real reason, though, is the "remote" cause, the farthest
reason. The farthest reason is the underlying instability of the system itself.
A fundamentally unstable
system is exactly what we saw in the recent credit crisis. Consumers all
through the world's largest economies borrowed money for all sorts of things,
because times were good. Home prices would always go up and the stock market
was back to its old trick of making 15% a year. And borrowing money was
relatively cheap. You could get 2% short-term loans on homes, which seemingly
rose in value 15% a year, so why not buy now and sell a few years down the
road?
Greed took over. Those risky
loans were sold to investors by the tens and hundreds of billions of dollars,
all over the world. And as with all debt sandpiles, the fault lines started to
appear. Maybe it was that one loan in Las Vegas that was the
critical piece of sand; we don't know, but the avalanche was triggered.
You may not remember this, but
I was writing about the problems with subprime debt way back in 2005 and 2006.
But as the problem actually emerged, respected people like Ben Bernanke (the chairman of the
Fed) said that the problem was not all that big and that the fallout would be
"contained." (I bet he wishes he could have that statement back!)
But it wasn't contained. It
caused banks to realize that what they thought was AAA credit was actually a
total loss. And as banks looked at what was on their books, they wondered about
their fellow banks. How bad were they? Who knew? Since no one did, they stopped
lending to each other. Credit simply froze. They stopped taking each other's
letters of credit, and that hurt world trade. Because banks were losing money,
they stopped lending to smaller businesses. Commercial paper dried up. All
those "safe" off-balance-sheet funds that banks created were now
folding (what my friend Paul McCulley first labeled as the Shadow Banking
System). Everyone sold what they could, not what they wanted to, to cover their
debts. It was a true panic. Businesses started laying off people, who in turn
stopped spending as much.
As I read through this again,
I think I have an insight. It is one of the reasons we get "fat
tails." In theory, returns on investment should look like a smooth bell
curve, with the ends tapering off into nothing. According to the theoretical
distribution, events that deviate from the mean by five or more standard
deviations ("5-sigma events") are extremely rare, with 10 or more
sigma being practically impossible – at least in theory. However, under certain
circumstances, such events are more common than expected; 15-sigma or even
rarer events have happened in the world of investments. Examples of such
unlikely events include Long Term Capital in the late ’90’s and any of a dozen
bubbles in history. Because the real-world commonality of high-sigma events is
much greater than in theory, the distribution is "fatter" at the
extremes ("tails") than a truly normal one.
Thus, the build-up of critical
states, those fingers of instability, is perpetuated even as, and precisely
because, we hedge risks. We try to "stabilize" the risks we see,
shoring them up with derivatives, emergency plans, insurance, and all manner of
risk-control procedures. And by doing so, the economic system can absorb body
blows that would have been severe only a few decades ago. We distribute the
risks and the effects of the risk throughout the system.
Yet as we reduce the known
risks, we sow the seeds for the next 10-sigma event. It is the improbable risks
that we do not yet see that will create the next real crisis. It is not that
the fingers of instability have been removed from the equation, it is that they
are in different places and are not yet visible.
A second related concept is
from game theory. The Nash equilibrium (named after John Nash,
he of The Beautiful Mind) is a kind of optimal strategy for
games involving two or more players, whereby the players reach an outcome to
mutual advantage. If there is a set of strategies for a game with the property
that no player can benefit by changing his strategy while (if) the other
players keep their strategies unchanged, then that set of strategies and the
corresponding payoffs constitute a Nash equilibrium.
So we end up in a critical
state of what Paul McCulley calls a "stable disequilibrium." We have
"players" of this game from all over the world tied inextricably
together in a vast dance through investment, debt, derivatives, trade, globalization,
international business and finance. Each player works hard to maximize their
own personal outcome and to reduce their exposure to "fingers of
instability."
But the longer we go on,
asserts Minsky, the more likely and violent an "avalanche" is. The
more the fingers of instability can build. The more that state of stable
disequilibrium can go critical on us.
Go back to 1997. Thailand
began to experience trouble. The debt explosion in Asia began to unravel.
Russia was defaulting on its bonds. (Astounding. Was it less than ten years
ago? Now Russian is awash in capital. Who could anticipate such a dramatic turn
of events?) Things on the periphery, small fingers of instability, began to
impinge on fault lines in the major world economies. Something that had not
been seen before happened: the historically sound and logical relationship
between 29- and 30-year bonds broke down. Then country after country suddenly
and inexplicably saw that relationship in their bonds begin to correlate, an
unheard-of event. A diversified pool of debt was suddenly no longer
diversified.
The fingers of instability
reached into Long Term Capital Management and nearly brought the financial
world to its knees.
If it were not for the fact
that we are coming to the closing innings of the Debt Supercycle, we would
already be in a robust recovery. But we are not. And sadly, we have a long way
to go with this deleveraging process. It will take years.
You can't borrow your way out
of a debt crisis, whether you are a family or a nation. And, as too many families
are finding out today, if you lose your job you can lose your home. People who
were once very creditworthy are now filing for bankruptcy and walking away from
homes. All those subprime loans going bad put huges numbers of homes back onto
the market, which caused prices to fall on all homes, which caused an entire
home-construction industry to collapse, which hurt all sorts of ancillary
businesses, which caused more people to lose their jobs and give up their
homes, and on and on. The connections in the housing part of the sandpile were
long and deep.
It's all connected. We built a
very unstable sand pile and it came crashing down, and now we have to dig out
from the problem. And the problem was too much debt. It will take years, as
banks write off home loans and commercial real estate and more, and we get down
to a more reasonable level of debt as a country and as a world.
Bond markets require
confidence above all else. If Greece defaults, then how far away is Spain or
Japan? (We now see that Spain is not all that far!) What makes the US so
different, if we do not control our debt? As Reinhart and Rogoff show, when
confidence goes, the end is very near. And it always comes faster than anyone
expects. Bang! there goes the sandpile.
The global financial system is
all connected. Tiny Greece and now larger Spain but soon Italy and even France
(!) can make a huge difference in places far removed from Europe, just as our
subprime debt created a crisis all over the world. The world financial system
allowed too much risk to be taken on, and then spread that risk far and wide
through fancy new financial engineering and securitizations. Many investors and
pension funds thought that by buying a lot of different types of securities
they were diversifying their risk, when in fact the same connected risk ran
through almost everything.
Investments that are normally
not correlated will again show a high degree of correlation, as they did during
the recent crisis, just when we need that diversification of risk to help us. There
is no reason to think it will be all that much different in the next crisis
period. Investing is not easy.
No comments:
Post a Comment