Positive Money is proud to announce the release of our new Guide to Public Money Creation. More and more people are joining Positive Money to critique the Bank of England’s current £375 billion Quantitative Easing (QE) programme and call for an alternative. This has prompted newfound interest
in unconventional monetary policy proposals, also known as ‘Helicopter
Money’, ‘Overt Monetary Finance’ (OMF), ‘Strategic QE’, ‘Green QE’, ‘Green Infrastructure QE’, ‘People’s QE’ and ‘Sovereign Money Creation’ (SMC). It is exciting to see these proposals enter mainstream debate – but it can get confusing! So today we have released our new Guide to Public Money Creation. All of the alternative QE proposals
advocate the proactive creation of central bank money to stimulate
growth in the real economy. Therefore, Positive Money collectively refers to these proposals as ‘Public Money Creation’. Download Full Report Here(Free, PDF, 55 pages) The emergence of Public Money Creation
proposals shows that there are a number of different ways that the Bank
of England can create money to boost economic growth. Each proposals
will have different implications for the economy. We are excited to see the subject of central bank money creation gaining traction.Whilst we advocate a specific proposal, Sovereign Money Creation, we welcome the wider debate. Positive
Money has written this paper to provide the non-specialist with a guide
to the Bank of England’s current QE programme and to each of the Public Money Creation proposals. Download Full Report Here(Free, PDF, 55 pages)
Federal court upholds gold clause for determining commercial building's rent
Submitted by cpowell on Sat, 2016-04-23 20:59. Section: Daily DispatchesJudge: Building Owner Can Charge Rent Based on Gold Prices
By Andrew Welsh-Huggins
Associated Press
via Washington Post
Saturday, April 23, 2016
COLUMBUS, Ohio -- A downtown office building is worth its weight in
gold, according to a federal judge who upheld a nearly century-old lease
that tied rent to the current price of the metal.
Last month's ruling means rent paid by the company leasing the
Commerce Building from a group of five property owners could jump from
$6,000 annually to more than $300,000.
At issue is a so-called "gold clause" included in the original 1919
lease. The provision, common at the time, linked rent to the price of
gold to account for inflation, similar to today’s consumer price index.
"This really is a vindication of property rights," said Washington,
D.C.-based attorney Peter Patterson, who represents the five owners.
In 1919 the value of gold was $20.67 per ounce, compared to more than
$1,200 per ounce today. The property owners have been charging a yearly
rent of $6,000 since that original lease, which was assumed by
Commonwealth Investments in 1990.
That deal, Patterson argued in a 2014 lawsuit, has resulted in a
windfall for the group, since their more than 40 tenants are charged
$900,000 annually.
In 1933, in the midst of the Depression, the gold clauses were
prohibited as part of efforts to reform the monetary system, which also
included a ban on private ownership of gold from 1934 until 1973.
A 1977 law once again permitted gold clauses in new leasing
agreements. That set up debates over interpretations of agreements when
new parties entered them and whether an original clause could still be
enforced. ...
Dear Friend of GATA and Gold:
While it may be hard to believe, it seems that the U.S. Commodity
Futures Trading Commission was unaware of Deutsche Bank's agreement to
settle a class-action lawsuit accusing it of manipulating the gold and
silver markets until GATA repeatedly sought to bring the matter to the
commission's attention over the last week.
The news of the settlement agreement broke with Reuters and Bloomberg News reports on Wednesday and Thursday, April 13 and 14: http://www.gata.org/node/16375 http://www.gata.org/node/16380
The reports said that Deutsche Bank had agreed in principle not only
to pay financial damages to the plaintiffs but also to provide evidence
against the other defendants in the suit.
Since the CFTC has jurisdiction over the U.S. commodity futures markets
and since the commission purported to have undertaken a five-year
investigation of the silver market, closing it in September 2013 upon
concluding that there was no cause for action – http://www.cftc.gov/PressRoom/PressReleases/pr6709-13
-- it was natural to seek comment from the commission about the Deutsche Bank news.
So on Saturday, April 16, your secretary/treasurer e-mailed the
commission's news media office as follows, providing the Internet link
to the Bloomberg News report:
"Does the commission have any reaction to Deutsche Bank's admission
to manipulating the gold and silver markets, as reported by Bloomberg
News this week? Is the commission responding to Deutsche Bank's
admission in any way? As you may recall, some years ago the commission
reported that it had investigated the silver market and had found
nothing improper. Is the commission reconsidering that conclusion?"
Receiving no response, on Tuesday, April 19, your secretary/treasurer
sent by facsimile machine a letter to the office of the chairman of the
CFTC, Tim Massad, reading: "As I am unable to get any acknowledgement
from your commission's press office, could you answer my questions here?
Does the commission have any reaction to Deutsche Bank's admission to
manipulating the gold and silver markets, as reported by various news
organizations last week? Is the commission responding to Deutsche Bank's
admission in any way? As you may recall, some years ago the commission
reported that it had investigated the silver market and had found
nothing improper. Is the commission reconsidering that conclusion?
Thanks for your help."
Having received no acknowledgment of that letter as well, yesterday –
Friday, April 22 – your secretary/treasurer telephoned the CFTC's press
office and within a half hour of leaving a message received a cordial
call back from an assistant to the director. He said he was unaware of
the Deutsche Bank story and could find no reference to it in the
commission's compendium of news reports of interest to the commission's
work.
Your secretary/treasurer conceded that the story is being largely
suppressed by Western financial news organizations and sent him the
links to the Reuters and Bloomberg stories as well as a link to the
original complaint in the class-action lawsuit. He said he would consult
his superiors and hoped to reply to me next week.
Of course all this gives the impression that the CFTC not only
doesn't know what's going on in its jurisdiction but also that it
doesn't want to know. It is additional evidence that certain
commodity market rigging is outside the commission's concern because the
U.S. government and other governments are the actual perpetrators,
surreptitious market rigging by the government being specifically
authorized by the Gold Exchange Act of 1934 as amended in the 1970s – https://www.treasury.gov/resource-center/international/ESF/Pages/esf-ind...
-- and because of the admission in recent official filings by CME
Group, operator of the major U.S. futures exchanges, that it provides
volume trading discounts to governments and central banks for
surreptitiously trading all futures contracts on its exchanges: http://www.gata.org/node/14385 http://www.gata.org/node/14411
All this also seems to confirm that the prerequisites of this market
rigging are the cowardice of the monetary metals mining industry, which
refuses to protest it, and the cowardice of mainstream financial news
organizations, which refuse to report it.
CHRIS POWELL, Secretary/Treasurer
Gold Anti-Trust Action Committee Inc. CPowell@GATA.org
Dear Friend of GATA and Gold:
The world news Internet site Sputnik News this week published an
unsigned commentary about gold market manipulation by Western investment
banks and the Federal Reserve, citing Deutsche Bank's confession to the
scheme. While most mainstream financial news organizations in the West
are studiously suppressing the Deutsche Bank story, the remarkable thing
about the Sputnik News commentary is that the news organization is
owned and operated by the Russian government itself, the successor to
the RIA Novosti and Voice of Russia news organizations: http://tinyurl.com/z86zqd4
That is, like the government of China -- http://www.gata.org/node/10380 http://www.gata.org/node/10416
-- and Russia's own central bank -- http://www.gata.org/node/4235
-- the government of Russia knows all about the Western central bank
policy of gold price suppression. But while this policy can be reported
in Russia and China, it remains a prohibited subject in the supposedly
free Western press.
The Sputnik News commentary is headlined "'Gold-Fix Cartel': How
Western Banks Were Caught With Pants Down" and it's posted here: http://sputniknews.com/analysis/20160419/1038265226/gold-deutsche-bank-m...
CHRIS POWELL, Secretary/Treasurer
Gold Anti-Trust Action Committee Inc. CPowell@GATA.org
Whilst by no means an entirely undisputed theory, ancient historians
generally believe that the emergence of civilised states such as Sumer
was closely connected to the centralised role temples played in
standardising, clearing and redistributing value in their societies.
Temple authorities, the theory states, kept account of the assets and
liabilities of each individual, meaning citizens could only claim as
many goods from the temple storage as the records permitted — something
based on the amount of provable work they had done. Tangible money was
consequently unnecessary. The accounting system was ubiquitous in
society and dependable.
As Benjamin Foster, a Yale Assyriologist,
has noted before, historians have speculated that the religious complex
was essential for spurring the sort of non-rivalrous collaboration that
allowed for the cultivation and settlement of land in the first place.
To construct and maintain the necessary irrigation works,
labor of the entire population was needed. Land could be exploited
efficiently only if it was considered property of the gods, rather than
of individuals or families. In the last quarter of the third millennium
B.C., secularizing tendencies caused the Sumerian theocratic order to
disintegrate.
It’s tempting, as a consequence, to describe the Sumerian system as
an industrial-religious accounting complex, kept in check by the
all-seeing supervisory system of the Sumerian pantheon of gods (the ultimate financial supervisory panopticon).
The military (protective) layer meanwhile was housed separately in
adjacent palace structures and overseen by kings. It was the kings who
authorised and oversaw the collection of bala payments
(taxes) from the provinces — evoking in some way today’s practice of
separating church and state, and even that of segregating the bank
clearing system from political authority. But it was also the states
which provided the key source of funds — usually in the form of
sacrificial animals — to the temple system and, in particular, the
temple shrine complex of Nippur (the Vatican of its day).
Some suggest, as a consequence, that humans only gave up their
nomadic/predatory/hunter-gatherer existence when they were provided with
a neutral territory and common religious purpose, something which in
turn gave them an excuse to “opt into” a mutually beneficial
subsidisation platform of their own accord and without the costly need
of state coercion. It was, so to speak, an amphictyony, an association of neighbouring collective systems forged together to defend a common religious centre.
Furthermore, since surpluses were provided to the temple on a
sacrificial basis, the added beauty of the system was that whilst there
was always an expectation the gods would reciprocate favourably, there
was never a guarantee that they would. The risk of non-performance by
the gods, in other words, was borne entirely by the contributing agent,
on a loss absorbing basis. So too was the cost of supporting the temple
system, which included the cost of feeding, clothing and defending its
administrators, priests and other social-welfare dependents — including
widows, orphans etc. Performance, meanwhile, was entirely linked to
chance (good weather, bumper crops, military victory etc).
Over time parts of this theory became known as the “temple-state hypothesis”, though these days it’s strongly disputed that
the territories feeding capital into the temple system were ever
explicitly owned by the gods. To the contrary, archaeologists believe a
combination of private, institutional and common lands made up the
Sumerian territories. If people subscribed to the central distributive
bala centres they did so as private entities who believed they would get
entitlements in return, and also because the ultimate remaining surplus
fed back to a temple system, which offered the chance of godly outsized
profits. The cultic element, in other words, provided an essential loss
absorbing capital layer to the system, without which an administrative
redistributive state could not have balanced its payments as precisely.
Given the sacrificial capital layer’s exposure to risk, it’s hardly
surprising perhaps that in later eras such amphictyonies, especially
those of the Delphic system of ancient Greece, became closely associated
with oracles, prophecy and forecasting — but also with mystery,
opacity, public festivals and behavioural codes which often encouraged
moderation, productivity and fertility.
If for some reason a tragedy or a black-swan event occurred, the
accounts didn’t balance and the supporting city complexes became
famished, it wasn’t the priests who got blamed for misallocating
resources or calling for the wrong level of sacrifice; the rationale
instead was that the gods had been unhappy with the amount of sacrifice
offered. To wit, more sacrifices were called upon immediately and an
effective recapitalisation of the temple-based clearing system was
achieved. Sacrifice-free economic administration
This is a bold leap. But we think a worthwhile one.
The blockchain systems being developed by banking technologists today
are ultimately aimed at one thing and one thing only: creating
clearing/settlement systems which balance themselves so perfectly and so
cheaply on a real-time basis they need never rely on expensive capital
layers to protect them from the risk of imbalances or settlement delays,
because in theory there shouldn’t ever be any.
Nor do they then need, in the minds of blockchain technologists, to
rely on equally expensive collateral framework regimes, or any other
form of capital buffering. To the contrary, the only permanent capital
they require is that needed to cover their cost of operation in the form
of fees — essentially sparing the economy the burden of having to
sacrifice vast amounts of capital to a reserve system which ultimately
sees much of that capital depreciate wastefully.
Indeed, this is precisely the sort of thinking currently being
espoused by the likes of Blythe Masters, CEO of Digital Asset Holdings,
who according to Morgan Stanley’s global financial teams has been
quoting saying the following:
We find that there are some vested interests of custodians,or potentially banks, where actually T plus two or three is quite helpful because they get the carry.
Or is the benefit case of resilience and cost-cutting offset the
nuisance of the carry. Generally, the reason why there are vested
interests who need to, for example, earn the carry is because they’re
operating a massively expensive infrastructure, without which the
business would be completely unsupportable.
So the carry has to be there in order to justify the cost associated
with inefficient process. And there isn’t really a custodian in the
world that, when you get to the right level of seniority, doesn’t
understand that problem. So they will give up the carry in a
nanosecond if they give up a more than proportionate amount of the
costs. And it’s as simple as that.
But there’s a problem with that statement. A paradox even.
In recent months a whole slew of incumbent-led projects have begun
pivoting on the technology they’re developing. In many cases, these
projects have mutated so far from the original blockchain concept, they
can’t authentically call themselves blockchain projects any more. To
wit, the blockchain taxonomy now includes an expanded range of
distributed shared ledgers systems, some being double-permissioned and
others being partially distributed.
The more these projects pivot — usually for profitability, scaling,
competition, capital or regulatory reasons — the more they regress to the standing systems of the day.
And the more they do that, the more they abandon the security,
streamlining and balancing enhancements which made the blockchain
transition appealing in the first place, thus introducing all sorts of
unknown risks.
Indeed, if these new-fangled blockchains which aren’t really
blockchains fail even once, whether for security, operational or legal
reasons, a need for a second layer of human-administered authentication
and security will become obvious. As soon as that layer is added in,
however, the cost advantages of the blockchain initiative disappear
entirely. If that layer isn’t brought in, meanwhile, then the system
ends up being exposed to an entirely new type of unknowable risk.
In recent weeks, blockchain enthusiasts may have been encouraged by an epidemic of successful experiments and trials in the blockchain
space, suggesting these new systems are fool proof. Under reported,
however, is the fact that none of these trials means very much at all.
Almost any blockchain system — even one made of paperclips — can look
viable in a controlled environment or when conducted at a small scale.
To prove the technology really is cheaper and more secure than the
standing system, the tests must run on a scaled up basis — a risk most
financial institutions are unlikely to be willing to take because it
involves the potential jeopardisation of real value.
As Morgan Stanley’s Global Financials team noted last week,
referencing both the risks of betting everything on what remains an
untested system and the incentive for these systems to quietly regress
to standing centralised systems:
Financials cannot afford to reinvent their financial
technology, nor take a massive punt on new technology until proven.
Clearly blockchain technology will be simplest in markets which are
already fully dematerialised with clear title (why Australia stock
exchange is a focus) but an even larger win will be dematerialising
complex Western markets too. One industry expert at a recent event (held
under Chatham House rules) said that distributed management of digital
signatures offered by blockchain technology might be separated from its
indelible record keeping mechanisms in near-term capital markets
implementations. This would be a form of “cheating” whereby new
transactions would be added from a distributed set of nodes, but where
the “golden copy” of this data would be maintained in a centralized
repository, an example of a work-around for a desired use case;
reference data.
You might at this stage be wondering why a tendency to backtrack
towards more traditional centralised and permissioned systems exists in
the first place? Largely, it’s down to the core paradox of any true
blockchain system: if it’s scaled it becomes too costly for the system
to support, whilst if it’s affordable, it can’t be scaled. Which itself
leads into the other core paradox of the financial system: if it’s
scaled it’s insecure, if it’s secure it can’t be scaled.
Indeed, the only reason the bitcoin blockchain — the only blockchain
to ever be fully tested at any significant scale — has been so
successful at clearing itself without a double-counting incident is
precisely because it was designed to be capital intensive, something
which now prevents it from being easily scaled to the point of universal
use. If you want to influence the blockchain you must offer a
corresponding sacrifice, and that will cost you, by design.
Given all that, the real genius of the bitcoin blockchain has nothing
to do with its publicly distributed ledger, its cryptographic
signatures, its inbuilt opacity or even its massively capital intensive
proof of workauthentication system. To the contrary, it has
everything to do with having created the sort of cult mythology (the
cult of Satoshi) which allows its energy intensive costs to be covered
by unconditional sacrificial capital flows (i.e. charity) that demand
nothing in return at all. Thus far, the bitcoin clearing network’s cost
of raising TLAC has been zero.
Given that so much of that capital subsidy is drawn from the
unbanked, black market or offshore sector that licensed banks aren’t
easily allowed to tap anymore, it’s hard to imagine how the banking
system can ever really compete with funding like that. (At least for as
long as its core depositor base — unlike the bitcoin depositor base —
demands the guarantee of par value.)
Whether a system based on pure unadulterated sacrifice from unwitting
benefactors can ever scale to a point where it replaces the banking
system, especially in its current energy-intensive form, is now the
question. As it stands, however, the capital expense would be
unfathomable, meaning some sort of trust-based hierarchal system
(stemming from a core bitcoin mining priesthood perhaps?) would have to
emerge.
Now, if those priests were prepared to live in the style of
incorruptible ascetic monks or Jedi knights, who knows, such a system
could become self-sustaining.
But, chances are, such a priesthood would eventually succumb (and in
the case of bitcoin already has) to highly conspicuous displays of
wealth and consumption.
If that happened trust would erode quickly, impacting the rate at
which sacrificial funds flowed into the clearing-church coffers,
bankrupting the system. Overly ostentatious behaviour might also attract
priestly competition from kings and other authorities, schismatic frictions
in the priesthood itself, or a move towards a more secularised
administrative economic system — wherein the risk of imbalances was once
again underwritten by a state-enforced taxpayer system or by the
seniority of capital investments in a financial system underpinned by
contract law and enticed by the promise of interest or dividend-based
returns.
At which point, of course, we would have come full circle.
In
the late summer of 2009, lawyers at the Securities and Exchange
Commission were preparing to bring charges in what they expected would
be their first big crackdown coming out of the financial crisis. The
investigators had been looking into Goldman Sachs’s mortgage-securities
business, and were preparing to take on the bank over a complex deal,
known as Abacus, that it had arranged with a hedge fund. They believed
that Goldman had committed securities violations in developing Abacus,
and were ready to charge the firm.
James
Kidney, a longtime S.E.C. lawyer, was assigned to take the completed
investigation and bring the case to trial. Right away, something seemed
amiss. He thought that the staff had assembled enough evidence to
support charging individuals. At the very least, he felt, the agency
should continue to investigate more senior executives at Goldman and
John Paulson & Company, the hedge fund run by John Paulson that made
about a billion dollars from the Abacus deal. In his view, the S.E.C.
staff was worried about the effect the case would have on Wall Street
executives, a fear that deepened when he read an e-mail from Reid Muoio,
the head of the S.E.C.’s team looking into complex mortgage securities.
Muoio, who had worked at the agency for years, told colleagues that he
had seen the “devasting [sic] impact our little ol’ civil actions reap
on real people more often than I care to remember. It is the least
favorite part of the job. Most of our civil defendants are good people
who have done one bad thing.” This attitude agitated Kidney, and he felt
that it held his agency back from pursuing the people who made the
decisions that led to the financial collapse.
While
the S.E.C., as well as federal prosecutors, eventually wrenched
billions of dollars from the big banks, a vexing question remains: Why
did no top bankers go to prison? Some have pointed out that statutes
weren’t strong enough in some areas and resources were scarce, and while
there is truth in those arguments, subtler reasons were also at play.
During a year spent researching for a book on this subject, I’ve come
across case after case in which regulators were reluctant to use the
laws and resources available to them. Members of the public don’t have a
full sense of the issue, because they rarely get to see how such
decisions are made inside government agencies.
Kidney
was on the inside at a crucial moment. Now retired after decades of
service to the S.E.C., Kidney recently provided me with a cache of
internal documents and e-mails about the Abacus investigation. The
agency holds the case up as a success, and in some ways it was: Goldman
had to pay a five-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar fine, and a
low-ranking trader was found liable for violating securities laws. But
the documents provided by Kidney show that S.E.C. officials considered
and rejected a much broader case against Goldman and John Paulson &
Company.
Kidney has criticized the
S.E.C. publicly in the past, and the agency’s handling of the Abacus
case has been previously described, most thoroughly in a piece by Susan
Beck, in The American Lawyer, but the documents provided by
Kidney offer new details about how the S.E.C. handled its case against
Goldman. The S.E.C. declined to comment on the e-mails or the Abacus
investigation, citing its policies not to comment on individual probes.
In a recent interview with me, Muoio stood by the agency’s investigation
and its case. “Results matter,” he said. “It was a clear win against a
company and culpable individual. We put it to a jury and won.”
Kidney,
for his part, came to believe that the big banks had “captured” his
agency—that is, that the S.E.C., which is charged with keeping financial
institutions in line, had become overly cautious to the point of
cowardice.
The
Abacus investigation traces to a moment in late 2006, when the hedge
fund Paulson & Company asked Goldman to create an investment that
would pay off if U.S. housing prices fell. Paulson was hoping to place a
bet on what we now know as “the big short”: the notion that the
real-estate market was inflated by an epic bubble and would soon
collapse. To facilitate Paulson’s short position, Goldman created
Abacus, an investment composed of what amounted to side bets on mortgage
bonds. Abacus would pay off big if people began defaulting on their
mortgages. Goldman marketed the investment to a bank in Germany that was
willing to take the opposite side of the bet—that housing prices would
remain stable. The bank, IKB, was cautious enough to ask that Goldman
hire an independent asset manager to assemble the deal and look out for
its interests.
This
is where things got dodgy. Unbeknownst to IKB, Paulson & Company
improved its odds of success by inducing the manager, a company called
ACA Capital, to include the diciest possible housing bonds in the deal.
Paulson wasn’t just betting on the horse race. The fund was secretly
slipping Quaaludes to the favorite. ACA did not understand that Paulson
was betting against the security. Goldman knew, but didn’t give either
ACA or IKB the full picture. (For its part, Paulson & Company
contended that ACA was free to reject its suggestions and said that it
never misled anyone in the deal.)
When
S.E.C. officials discovered this, in 2009, they decided that Goldman
Sachs had misled both the German bank and ACA by making false statements
and omitting what the law terms “material details”—and that these
actions constituted a violation of securities law. (The S.E.C. oversees
civil enforcement of U.S. securities law and can charge both companies
and individuals with violations. Its work can often be a precursor to
criminal cases, which are handled by prosecutors at the Justice
Department.)
Kidney was a trial
attorney with two decades of experience at the S.E.C., and had won his
share of courtroom battles. But the stakes in this case were
particularly high. Politically, it was a delicate moment. The global
financial system was only just recovering, millions of Americans had
lost their jobs, and there was growing public anger about the bailout of
the banks and car companies in Detroit. When Kidney looked at the work
that had been done on the case, he found what he considered serious
shortcomings. For one, S.E.C. investigators had not interviewed enough
executives. For another, the staff decided to charge only the lowest man
on the totem pole, a midlevel Goldman trader named Fabrice Tourre, a
French citizen who lived in London, and who was in his late twenties
when the deal came together. Tourre had joked about selling the doomed
deal to “widows and orphans,” and had referred to himself as “Fabulous
Fab,’’ a sobriquet that probably would not endear him to a jury. He was
an easy target, but charging him was not likely to send a signal that
Washington was serious about cracking down on Wall Street’s excesses.
Kidney
could not understand why S.E.C. staffers were reluctant to investigate
Tourre’s bosses at Goldman or anyone at Paulson & Company. Charging
only Goldman, he said, would send exactly the wrong message to Wall
Street. “This appears to be an unbelievable fraud,” he wrote to his
boss, Luis Mejia. “I don’t think we should bring it without naming all
those we believe to be liable.”
Kidney
went to work at the S.E.C. in 1986. He was thirty-nine at the time,
having first worked a stint as a journalist. The “steam was elevated” at
the agency when he started there, he said. Young lawyers were expected
to go after the big names, and they did: the junk-bond king Michael
Milken, the insider trader Ivan Boesky, the investment banker Martin A.
Siegel.
As a trial lawyer, Kidney’s
job was to develop a compelling narrative that could be presented to a
jury of laymen unfamiliar with the intricacies of finance. “Jim was a
great attorney. A lawyer’s lawyer. Sound legal mind, excellent writer,
and a true trial lawyer,” said Terence Healy, the vice-chair of
securities enforcement practice at Hughes Hubbard and a former colleague
of Kidney’s at the S.E.C. But Kidney also exasperated some staffers who
thought he wasn’t detail-oriented and didn’t grasp nuances.
Soon
after he joined the case, Kidney believed that the evidence the S.E.C.
staff had assembled justified charges against more people and he argued
for, at the very least, an investigation of higher-level executives. The
S.E.C. team had not interviewed Tourre’s direct superior, Jonathan
Egol. Nor had they questioned top bankers in Goldman’s mortgage
businesses or any of the bank’s senior executives. Even more surprising
to Kidney, the agency had not taken testimony from John Paulson, the key
figure at his eponymous hedge fund. It seemed to Kidney, as he reviewed
the case materials, that the agency had spent more time and effort
investigating much smaller insider-trading cases. Just two weeks after
he joined the case, on August 14th, Kidney urged the team to broaden its
investigation and issue key participants in the Abacus deal what are
known as Wells notices—official notification that the S.E.C. was
considering charges.
Kidney’s view
of the case put him at odds with Muoio, who was widely respected at the
agency for his analytical abilities. Kidney said that he was aghast
when, in an e-mail sent a month later congratulating his team on their
work investigating Tourre, Muoio described potential targets of S.E.C.
charges as “good people who had done one bad thing,’’ and he did little
to hide his irritation.
“I
am in full agreement that when we sue it can be devastating, and that
we have sued little guys way too often on flimsy charges or when they
have been punished enough,’’ he wrote back. “But I’m not at all
convinced that Tourre alone is sufficient here.”
Kidney
later explained to Muoio that he was pushing for a more assertive
approach because he believed that the S.E.C. had grown too passive in
its oversight of Wall Street. “The damage to the reputation of the
[S.E.C.] in the last few years and the decline of the institution are
very troubling to me,” he wrote.
Kidney
and Muoio battled for months. Kidney felt that the agency was overly
dependent on the kind of direct evidence it had against Tourre. Part of
the problem was that high-level Goldman executives had been savvier in
how they communicated: when topics broached sensitive territory in
e-mails, they would often write “LDL”—let’s discuss live.
Kidney
pressed the team to take what he thought were obvious investigative
steps. He had been told by a staff attorney in the group that Muoio had
vetoed the idea of calling Paulson to testify, and the agency hadn’t
subpoenaed Paulson’s e-mails initially, relying mainly on the voluntary
disclosure of documents. “We didn’t get subpoena power until late in the
investigation,” a staff attorney acknowledged to Kidney, in an e-mail
sent late in August of 2009.
As
the year ended, Muoio remained opposed to bringing charges against
anyone but Tourre. In a December 30th e-mail, sent to the entire group
investigating the deal, Muoio offered an explanation for what had
happened during the bubble years: “Now that we are gearing up to bring a
handful of cases in this area, I suggest that we keep in mind that the
vast majority of the losses suffered had nothing to do with fraud and
the like and are more fairly attributable to lesser human failings of
greed, arrogance and stupidity of which we are all guilty from time to
time.”
Several days later, Kidney
sent an e-mail to Lorin Reisner, the S.E.C.’s deputy director of
enforcement, in which he warned, “We must be on guard against any risk
that we adopt the thinking of those sponsoring these structures and join
the Wall Street Elders, if you will.”
Kidney
also continued to push the agency to bring charges against Egol,
Tourre’s superior at Goldman, arguing that the S.E.C. should at least
interview him. According to Kidney, Muoio dismissed the idea, saying
that the agency knew what Egol would say.
“That’s a cardinal sin in an investigation,’’ Kidney said that he told Muoio. “You can’t assume what somebody will say.”
One
reason for the reluctance from Muoio and others at the S.E.C. was that
they wanted to make the case about misleading statements and they didn’t
have that sort of evidence from Paulson & Company employees or
high-level Goldman executives.
Kidney
told me that he thought the S.E.C. could avail itself of a broader
interpretation of securities law. He argued that the agency should file
civil actions against top players at both the bank and the hedge fund
under a concept called “scheme liability”—a doctrine of securities law
that makes it illegal to sell financial products whose main purpose is
to deceive investors.
In late
October of 2009, Kidney circulated a long memo arguing that the S.E.C.
should consider charging Paulson & Company, John Paulson himself,
and Paolo Pellegrini, who was the hedge fund executive who worked on the
Abacus deal.
“Each of them
knowingly participated, as did Goldman and Tourre, in a scheme to sell a
product which, in blunt but accurate terms, was designed to fail,”
Kidney’s memo said. “In other words, the current pre-discovery evidence
suggests they should be sued for securities fraud because they are liable for securities fraud.”
John
Paulson and Pellegrini declined to comment for this article. Paulson
& Company and Goldman dispute that the deal was fraudulent. A
spokesman for the Paulson hedge fund said that “there was no ‘scheme’
nor was Abacus ‘designed to fail,’ ” and that the hedge fund neither
told Goldman what to disclose to investors nor knew anything about what
the bank was telling investors. A Goldman spokesman said that the bank
never created mortgage-related products that were designed to fail. He
said the precipitous collapse in the value of Abacus, which fell to zero
several months after it had been created, resulted from the broad
decline in the housing market that afflicted all securities related to
real estate, not because of flaws in the product.
Some
of Kidney’s colleagues initially supported his idea to pursue scheme
liability, but Muoio seemed to think that doing so would hurt the
agency’s solid but narrower case against Goldman. “I continue to have
serious reservations about charging Paulson on our facts,” Muoio wrote.
“And I worry that doing so could severely undermine and delay our solid
case against Goldman.” Muoio’s viewpoint, again, prevailed.
Muoio,
in a recent interview with me, dismissed Kidney’s complaints. “I cannot
imagine any basis for claiming ‘regulatory capture,’ given that I have
never worked in industry or finance and given the cases I have made,
including very significant cases against banks, auditing firms,
companies and senior executives,” he said.
Even
after he lost the debate over scheme liability, Kidney continued to
argue for charging Jonathan Egol with securities-law violations. One
staffer wrote that the S.E.C. had testimony, but little documentary
evidence, proving that Egol had reviewed the Abacus documents. “The law
surely imposes liability on others besides the literal scrivenor [sic],
or we are in big trouble,” Kidney shot back in an e-mail. “Why are we
working so hard to defend a guy who is now a managing director at
Goldman so we can limit the case to the French guy in London?”
“I
am sure you are not suggesting we charge Egol because of his position
within the company,” Muoio replied. “Nationality is also clearly
irrelevant and I hope that’s the last we hear from you on that subject.
Tourre admits he was principally responsible for the problematic
disclosures.”
Members of the S.E.C.
staff finally interviewed Egol in January, 2010. Muoio would later tell
the S.E.C. inspector general: “We didn’t lay a glove on him.” But Kidney
felt differently. As he saw it, Egol had acknowledged reviewing all the
documents that the S.E.C. had deemed misleading.
On
January 29th, after months of investigation and debate, the S.E.C.
provided a Wells notice to Jonathan Egol. Neither Egol nor his lawyers
responded to repeated calls and e-mails seeking comment for this
article.
Things dragged on. In
March, Muoio wrote an e-mail arguing against charging Egol, saying that,
among other reasons, he “will strike most jurors as nice, likable,
down-to-earth family man.” On the afternoon of March 22nd, the team
gathered in the office of Robert Khuzami, the S.E.C.’s director of
enforcement, for a meeting. Kidney, Lorin Reisner, and one other lawyer
present were in favor of suing Egol; Muoio remained implacably against,
as did others. Most of the lower-level staffers stayed quiet.
The
following day, Khuzami e-mailed the group with his decision: “I am a no
on Egol. An extremely difficult call,” he wrote. “The lack of consensus
among our group is itself, for me, confirmation of this conclusion.”
Khuzami did not respond to a request for comment.
Kidney
had lost. He was offered the job of handling the expert witnesses for
the trial but knew what that meant—that he was getting demoted. He
declined.
On Friday, April 16, 2010, the S.E.C. stunned the markets, suing Goldman Sachs and charging the firm with
omitting information that would have been crucial to investors in
Abacus. The agency brought a charge against Tourre, as well. Goldman’s
stock dropped thirteen per cent that day, erasing ten billion dollars of
its market capitalization.
A couple
of months later, on July 15th, the S.E.C. settled with Goldman for five
hundred and fifty million dollars. Goldman Sachs did not admit any
wrongdoing. The S.E.C. wrung an apology out of the bank, which the agency perceived as scoring a victory, but which critics called inadequate.
It
would be the only S.E.C. action brought against the bank for its
actions in this corner of the mortgage-securities markets just before
the meltdown, although a Senate investigation uncovered questionable
behavior related to other Goldman mortgage securities. The Justice
Department recently settled a case with Goldman that charged that the
bank had misrepresented mortgage-backed securities. The bank had to pay
on the order of five billion dollars. The Justice Department did not
charge any individuals.
In 2013,
Fabrice Tourre was found liable in a civil trial and ordered to pay more
than eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars. He is now a Ph.D.
candidate at the University of Chicago.
Kidney
became disillusioned. Upon retiring, in 2014, he gave an impassioned
going-away speech, in which he called the S.E.C. “an agency that polices
the broken windows on the street level and rarely goes to the penthouse
floors.”
In
our conversations, Kidney reflected on why that might be. The oft-cited
explanations—campaign contributions and the allure of private-sector
jobs to low-paid government lawyers—have certainly played a role. But to
Kidney, the driving force was something subtler. Over the course of
three decades, the concept of the government as an active player had
been tarnished in the minds of the public and the civil servants working
inside the agency. In his view, regulatory capture is a psychological
process in which officials become increasingly gun shy in the face of
criticism from their bosses, Congress, and the industry the agency is
supposed to oversee. Leads aren’t pursued. Cases are never opened. Wall
Street executives are not forced to explain their actions.
Kidney
still rues the Goldman case as a missed chance to learn the lessons of
the financial crisis. “The answers to unasked questions are now lost to
history as well as to law enforcement,” he said. “It is a shame.”
Throughout history, governments have used their ability to create
money to fund public spending. State-led money creation has been the
norm, rather than the exception. While none of these policies were
called, “People’s QE”, “Sovereign Money Creation”, Strategic QE, or
“Helicopter Money”, they shared the common trait of using newly created
state money to finance government spending, rather than relying on commercial banks to create new money through lending.
The times when this state-led money creation has resulted in high
inflation or even hyperinflation (inflation of over 50% a year) have
been well documented. However, the times when governments have created
money in a careful and responsible manner to grow the economy are
usually ignored or overlooked. We want to set the record
straight and bring to light the many case studies where state-led money
creation has successfully boosted the economy without leading to
economic disaster.
In our previous posts on this topic, we showed that theory and analysis
have been dispensed with at the expense of this widespread
misconception. We also showed that misleading conclusions have been
drawn from the case studies of state-led money creation in Zimbabwe and
the Weimar Republic. In this post, we look at case study evidence of
state led money creation in Canada and New Zealand provided by the New Economics Foundation (NEF).
Canada (1944-1975)
According to NEF (2013),
the Canadian government performed a form of Strategic QE from
1944-1975, whereby the Canadian central bank would create new money and
inject it into the Industrial Development Bank (IDB). The IDB would then
use this money to lend to the productive sectors of the economy –
namely small and medium enterprises (SMEs).
To help strengthen Canadian SMEs, the IDB was formed in 1944, as a
primary subsidiary of the Canadian Central Bank. The purpose of the Bank
was:
“To promote the economic welfare of Canada by increasing
the effectiveness of monetary action through ensuring the availability
of credit to industrial enterprises which may reasonably be expected to
prove successful if a high level of national income and employment is
maintained, by supplementing the activities of other lenders and by
providing capital assistance to industry with particular consideration
to the financing problems of smaller enterprises.”
NEF (2013) correctly points out that, as is the present case with UK
banks, the Canadian private banking sector was hardly interested in
providing the types of lending facilities that Canadian businesses
needed. The economy suffered as a consequence. The IDB, using money
created by the Canadian central bank, was established “to plug this financing gap
and any business that requested funds would have to demonstrate that it
could not attain them at reasonable rates from a commercial bank
first.”
While there was much scepticism around the establishment of the IDB –
that it would only lend money to unprofitable or failing businesses –
the IDB was extremely successful in providing finance to SMEs, and
helped the Canadian economy thrive. According to NEF (2013), in its 31
years of existence, the IDB provided over 65,000 loans to approximately
48,000 different businesses. The average loan size was $C47,000, while
roughly 50% of loans were for less than $C25,000. In total, the loans
amounted to over $C3 billion. More than 9 out of 10 loans were repaid,
while it is estimated that over 900,000 people were employed as a consequence.
NEF (2013) cites former IDB employee E. Ritchie Clark who stated:
“The Bank assisted in just about every kind of business
and program imaginable, from setting up a new pipe mill or refinery to
helping a young lawyer acquire his own law library. It was active in
every part of Canada, and in some remote areas such as the Yukon was a major factor in economic growth.
The IDB was probably the most important source of financial support for
commercial air services apart from the mainline operations, for motels
and other kinds of tourist services, and for many kinds of manufacturing
such as small and medium sized lumber operations and the production of
hosiery”
Most importantly, the IDB was completely financed through the
creation of central bank money. To begin with, the IDB was funded by the
Bank of Canada buying $25 million of equity stock. NEF (2013) also
notes that the Bank of Canada also purchased all bonds issued by the IDB
in its 31 years of existence.
New Zealand (1935-1939)
NEF (2013)
also points to the case-study of New Zealand, a British colony at the
time. New Zealand was permitted by the British to establish its own
central bank – the Reserve Bank of New Zealand (RBNZ). As a colony of
Britain, New Zealand was heavily reliant on imports and exports from/to
Britain and Australia. Accordingly, the New Zealand pound was pegged to
sterling – and also subject to the volatility of prices in commodity
markets.
In 1935, the new Labour Finance Minister, Walter Nash, wanted to use
the RBNZ to help stimulate aggregate demand, increase employment, and
get the economy going again. According to NEF (2013), the primary goal
of the RBNZ was to undertake “credit creation for the real economy”.
The central bank was to primarily use its money creating powers in
two different ways. Firstly, it would guarantee the prices of
agricultural produce, where “shortfalls between market and guaranteed prices met by its (RBNZ) advances”.
Secondly, Nash instructed the RBNZ to make £5million of loans available
for the construction of social housing – aimed at providing low cost
homes to poorer households.
NEF (2013) further suggests that the RBNZ also created credit to help
finance a number of other public work projects. From 1936-1939, the
RBNZ created roughly NZ £30 million (equivalent to around 5-7% of New
Zealand’s GDP). According to NEF (2012) over this 4-year time frame, real GDP grew by 30%.
Frank started volunteering for
Positive Money in February 2013 and is now working full-time as a
researcher. He was researching issues related to the 1844 Bank Charter
Act and its implications for contemporary monetary policy. Currently,
Frank is working on the availability of credit under a Sovereign Money
system, as well as, the implications of Sovereign Money for a green
economy. With a Research Master’s in Political Economy and a BA in
African Development Studies, Frank is especially interested in how
Western financial systems (and models) influence African developmental
trajectories.
Struggles over shadow money today echo 19th century struggles over bank deposits.
Money, James Buchan once noted, “is diabolically hard to write about.” It has been described as a promise to pay, a social relation, frozen desire, memory, and fiction. Less daunted, Hyman Minsky was interested by promises of unknown and changing properties. “Shadow” promises would have fascinated him. Indeed, Perry Mehrling, Zoltan Pozsar, and others
argue that in shadow banking, money begins where bank deposits end.
Their insights are the starting point for the first paper of our
Institute for New Economic Thinking project
on shadow money. The footprint of shadow money, we argue,* extends well
beyond opaque shadow banking, reaching into government bond markets and
regulated banks. It radically changes central banking and the state’s
relationship to money-issuing institutions.
Minsky famously quipped that everyone can create new money; the problem is to get it accepted as such by others. General acceptability
relies on the strength of promises to exchange for proper money, money
that settles debts. Banks’ special role in money creation, Victoria
Chick reminds
us, was sealed by states’ commitment that bank deposits would convert
into state money (cash) at par. This social contract of convertibility
materialized in bank regulation, lender of last resort, and deposit
guarantees. But even money-proper is not the same for everyone. Central
banks create the money in which banks pay each other, while private
banks create money for households and firms. Money is hierarchical, and moneyness is a question of immediate convertibility without loss of value (at par exchange, on demand).
Using
a money hierarchy lens, we define shadow money as repurchase agreements
(repos), promises to pay backed by tradable collateral. It is the
presence of collateral that confers shadow money its distinctiveness.
Our approach advances the debate in several ways.
First, it allows
us to establish a clear picture of modern money hierarchies. Repos are
nearest to money-proper, stronger in their moneyness claims than other
short-term shadow liabilities.
Repos rose in money hierarchies as finance sidestepped the state,
developing its own convertibility rules over the past 20 years. To
convert shadow money into settlement money in case of default, repo
lenders sell collateral. An intricate collateral valuation regime,
consisting of haircuts, mark-to-market, and margin calls, maintains
collateral’s exchange rate into (central) bank money.
Second, we
put banks at the center of shadow-money creation. The growing
shadow-money literature, however original in its insights, downplays
banks’ activities in the shadows because its empirical terrain is U.S.
shadow banking with its institutional peculiarities. There, hedge funds
issue shadow money to institutional cash pools via the balance sheet of
securities dealers. In Europe or China,
it’s also banks issuing shadow money to other banks to fund capital
market activities. LCH Clearnet SA, a pure shadow bank, offers a glimpse
into this world. Like a bank, it backs money issuance with central bank
(Banque de France) money. Unlike a bank, LCH Clearnet only issues
shadow money.
Third, we explore the critical role of the state
beyond simple guarantor of convertibility. Like bank money, shadow money
relies on sovereign structures of authority and credit worthiness.
Shadow money is mostly issued against government bond collateral,
because liquid securities make repo convertibility easier and cheaper.
The legal right to re-use (re-hypothecate) collateral allows various
(shadow) banks to issue shadow money against the same government bond,
which becomes akin to a base asset
with “velocity.” Limits to velocity place demands on the state to issue
debt, not because it needs cash but because shadow money issuers need
collateral.
With finance ministries unresponsive to such demands,
we note two points in the historical development of shadow money in the
early 2000s. In the United States, persuasive lobbying exploited
concerns that U.S. Treasury debt would fall to dangerously low levels to relax regulation on repos collateralized with asset and mortgage-backed securities.
In Europe, the ECB used the mechanics of monetary policy implementation
to the same end. When it lent reserves to banks via repos, the ECB used
its collateral valuation practices to generate base-asset privileges
for “periphery” government bonds, treating these as perfect substitutes for German government bonds, with the explicit intention of powering market liquidity.
Fourth, we introduce fundamental uncertainty in modern money creation. What makes repos money - at par exchange
between “cash” and collateral – is what makes finance more fragile in a
Minskyan sense. Knightian uncertainty bites harder and faster because
convertibility depends on collateral-market liquidity.
The
collateral valuation regime that makes repos increasingly acceptable
ties securities-market liquidity into appetite for leverage. Here,
Keynes’ concerns with the social benefits of private liquidity become
relevant. Keynes voiced strong doubts about the idea of “the more
liquidity the better” in stock markets (concerns now routinely voiced
by central banks for securities markets). Liquid markets become more
fragile, he argued, by giving investors the “illusion” that they can
exit before prices turn against them. This is a crucial insight for
crises of shadow money.
A promise backed by tradable collateral
remains acceptable as long as lenders trust that collateral can be
converted into settlement money at the agreed exchange rate. The need
for liquidity may become systemic once collateral falls in market value,
as repo issuers must provide additional collateral or cash to maintain
at par. If forced to sell assets, collateral prices sink lower, creating
a liquidity spiral. Converting shadow money is akin to climbing a ladder that is gradually sinking: The faster one climbs, the more it sinks.
Note
that sovereign collateral does not always stop the sinking, outside the
liquid world of U.S. Treasuries. Rather, states can be dragged down
with their shadow-money issuing institutions. As Bank of England showed,
when LCH Clearnet tightened the terms on which it would hold shadow
money backed with Irish and Portuguese sovereign collateral, it made the
sovereign debt crisis worse. Europe had its crisis of shadow money, less visible than the Lehman Brothers demise, but no less painful. “Whatever it takes” was a promise to save the “shadow” euro with a credible commitment to support sovereign collateral values.
Shadow
money also constrains the macroeconomic policy options available to the
state. That’s because what makes shadow liabilities money also greatly
complicates its stabilization: it requires a radical re-think of many
powerful ideas about money and central banking. The first point,
persuasively made by Perry Mehrling, and more recently by Bank of England, is that central banks need a (well-designed) framework to backstop markets, not only institutions. Collateralized
debt relationships can withstand a systemic need for liquidity if
holders of shadow money are confident that collateral values will not
drop sharply, forcing margin calls and fire sales. Yet such overt
interventions raise serious moral hazard issues.
Less well understood is that central banks need to rethink lender of last resort. Their collateral framework can perversely destabilize shadow money. Central banks cannot mitigate convertibility risk for shadow money when they use the same fragile convertibility practices. Rather, central banks should lend unsecured or without seeking to preserve collateral parity.
We suggest that the state, as base-asset issuer, becomes a de facto
shadow central bank. Its fiscal policy stance and debt management
matter for the pace of (shadow) credit expansion and for financial
stability. Yet, unlike the central bank, the state has no means to
stabilize shadow money or protect itself from its fragility. It has to
rely on its central bank, caught in turn between independence and shadow
money (in)stability, which may require direct interventions in
government bond markets.
The bigger task that follows from our
analysis, is to define the social contract between the three key
institutions involved in shadow money: the state as base collateral
issuer, the central bank, and private finance. In the new FSB or Basel III
provisions, we are witnessing a struggle over shadow money with many
echoes from the long struggle over bank money. The more radical options,
such as disentangling sovereign collateral from shadow money, were
never contemplated in regulatory circles. Even a partial disentanglement
has proven difficult because states depend on repo markets to support liquidity
in government bond markets. Our next step, then, will be to map how the
crisis has altered the contours of the state’s relation to the shadow
money supply, comparing the cases of the U.S., the Eurozone, and China.
*
For a detailed account, including balance sheet illustrations, please
see the first theoretical paper of our INET project Managing Shadow Money.
Associate Professor, University of the West of England, Bristol
Shadow banking activities, in
particular repo markets, and the implications for central banking,
sovereign bond markets and regulatory activity; political economy of
global, interconnected banks and their presence in emerging/developing
countries through the lens of dependent financialization
Senior Researcher, Danish Institute for International Studies
Changing policy norms for economic development and financial stability in the wake of the global financial crisis; reform of the
governance of international organizations
" Taking account of the ECB’s role as a central bank, the Executive Board considers that the publication of a cash-flow statement would not provide the readers of the financial statements with any additional relevant information. "
The common agricultural policy takes from the poor and gives to the
rich. Its effects can be felt in every British household, and seen in
the deadly waters of the Mediterranean too
‘A massive 38% of the entire 2014-20 EU budget is allocated as subsidies
for European farmers. It is far and away the biggest item of euro
expenditure, about €50bn a year.’ Photograph: Stuart Black/Alamy
The
estate agent Carter Jonas established its reputation running the
estates of the Marquess of Lincolnshire. “Some of the biggest property
owners in the country are our loyal clients,” boasts its website. And,
in a recent poll of these landowning clients, 67% of them said that
Britain should stay in the EU. So why all this Euro-enthusiasm in the Tory heartlands and among the
landed gentry? “Should the UK vote to leave the EU, the CAP subsidies
will likely be reduced,” Tim Jones, head of Carter Jonas’s rural
division, explained. Thank you, Tim, for putting it so clearly. We
understand.
A massive 38% of the entire 2014-20 EU budget is allocated as
subsidies for European farmers. It is far and away the biggest item of
euro expenditure, about €50bn a year. If these billions were being used
to prop up a heavy industry – steel, for example – then the neoliberals
would be up in arms, complaining like mad that if an industry can’t cope
with a free market then it should be left to die. Creative destruction,
they call it. But, for some reason, when it comes to agriculture,
different rules apply.
Farms are not called “uneconomic” in the same way that pits and factories are.
So every British household coughs up about £250 a year and hands it
over to the EU, which hands it over to people like the Duke of
Westminster – already worth £7bn himself. In 2011, the duke received £748,716 in EU subsidies for his various estates. So, too, Saudi Prince Bandar (he of the dodgy al-Yamamah arms deal),
who pocketed £273,905 of EU money for his estate in Oxfordshire. The
common agricultural policy is socialism for the rich. It’s a mechanism
to buttress the aristocracy – who own a third of the land in this
country – from the chill winds of economic liberalism. So why are we hearing so little about all of this in the
current debate over Europe? Because the right doesn’t want to worry its
landowning friends and the left has somehow persuaded itself that the EU
is a progressive force – so it suits no one’s purpose to raise this
issue. Yet it’s a huge deal. For the European Union has become a huge and largely invisible way of redistributing wealth from the poor to the rich,
subsidising lord so-and so’s grouse moor, while redundancies are handed
out to workers at Port Talbot (whose jobs the government can’t help
subsidise because of EU rules).
But even more problematic is the way our massively subsidised
agricultural sector negatively affects farmers in the developing world. “Trade not aid” has been David Cameron’s repeated mantra
for dealing with poverty in the developing world. But not only does the
CAP subsidy to European farmers make it impossible for the unsubsidised
African farmer to compete fairly in European markets, but it also
creates situations where food is overproduced in Europe – remember
butter mountains, milk lakes etc.
The
last big year of oversupply was 2007, when the EU amassed over 13m
tonnes of cereal, rice, sugar and milk. This food was then dumped
cheaply on the markets of the developing world, putting poor farmers out
of business. And this is exactly what state-subsidised Chinese steel
has been doing to us. We like the idea of the EU being this great big
free-trade zone. But the word “free” here is most misleading. As so
often, one person’s freedom is another’s imprisonment. The EU operates
like one great big cartel – a mechanism for fixing prices and keeping
out competition. Again, it’s the poor who suffer. Little wonder, then, the extent of economic migration. This week, 500 people drowned in the Mediterranean trying to make it to Europe for a better life.
They weren’t escaping war. They were escaping poverty, running from
places where it is now all but impossible to make a living off the land.
These poor people drowned in the moat of Fortress Europe, an economic
selfishness zone designed to keep most of us placidly comfortable and
others with wealth and land beyond the dreams of avarice. @giles_fraser