Inflation – what a Hout!

As I write, Britain is bombing a former colony – one of the poorest countries on earth, the scene recently of the “world’s worst humanitarian crisis” according to the UN, which was caused by a war inflicted by the medieval limb-severing Saudi Arabian regime with British weapons. But trying to stop the genocide in Palestine is crime enough to resume the sorties. And they want ordinary people to actively help out with this never-ending war for civilisation!

But pause for a minute and consider the reason for ‘Operation Prosperity Guardian’. The fear is that any continued obstruction to shipping routes in the Red Sea, which accounts for 15% of global sea trade, will reignite inflation, the bogeyman western governments and central banks have been trying to slay for the past two years or more.

I don’t want to minimise the problem of consumer inflation, to give it its proper name, which given that it causes massive rises in the cost of essentials like food involves real misery. This is exacerbated in an era when collective bargaining has been reduced to a rump of the economy so that wages can’t keep up with the price rises.

However, consumer inflation is not the only kind of inflation. Over many years, western countries have also been subject to asset price inflation – basically huge rises in the prices of shares and houses. In Britain, house prices have risen by about 1,000% since the early 1980s. And despite some ups and downs, the stock market across the western world keeps hitting record highs. In America it has enjoyed some of its best returns since the 1880s.

It is a basic axiom of our Thatcherite political mind-set that, in total contrast to consumer inflation, asset-price inflation is not something to dread. Quite the opposite, it is positively benign.

But, as we are now seeing, this is a travesty of the truth.

The inflation we like

So, unlike consumer inflation, the authorities have not tried to fight asset-price inflation. They have, by contrast, endeavoured to boost it at every turn and, if it seems to be flagging, to rekindle it with blatant forms of state intervention (despite the propaganda we don’t live in a ‘free’ market economy).

House prices in Britain have been deliberately stoked by restricting supply. It is a basic law of economics that if the supply of any good is suppressed, its price will increase.  This happened first through Thatcher’s ‘Right to Buy’ policy and was then reinforced by simply banning local councils from building new council houses. More recently, more direct forms of buttressing house prices have been necessary, for example the government’s ‘Help to Buy’ policy which is a simple subsidy to housebuilders.

The rise in share prices was first underpinned by legalising the process of share buy backs, banned in the aftermath of the Wall Street Crash of 1929. This has led to an internally-generated rise in share prices, caused by companies being pressured by their shareholders to ‘retire’ some of their shares, thus increasing the share price and the dividend payments to existing stock-holders. This practice has now become routine in the corporate world – according to economist Michael Hudson, publicly-listed American companies have, since 1985, retired more stock than they have issued.

Since the 2008 financial crisis, share prices have also been massively boosted by the artificial method of (electronic) money printing known as Quantitative Easing (QE). QE works by creating a huge mass of money, and by reducing the yield on government bonds, ‘incentivising’ investors to place it in the stock market or with other assets such as housing, or financing corporate mergers. According to investment manager, Kate Rogers, at venerable asset manager Cazenove, “Quantitative easing certainly stimulated asset markets. The billions that went from the banks to investors to buy the bonds was soon recycled into more attractively valued equities and property-boosting prices.”

This flagrant state intervention, practiced simultaneously in Britain, America, and Europe, is what lies behind the thriving stock market performance of the last decade or more (15% returns compared to an average of 9%). It is nothing to do with a healthy economy pushing up share prices. GDP growth, as we know, has been consistently poor for many years.

Of course, central banks are now pursuing the opposite policy to Quantitative Easing. ‘Quantitative Tightening’ involves selling assets to reduce liquidity in the financial system. This hasn’t (as yet but more on that later) produced a collapse in share prices. The conventional interpretation is that large companies are finally able to stand on their own two feet. But possibly QE under Covid was so huge – the creation of $834 million per hour – that the subsidy is still having an effect.

This is how it feels

The only way in which this asset-price inflation is commonly seen to have a downside is in terms of housing. The enormous rise in house prices – from an average of £26,000 in 1983 to £280,000 today – is regarded as a boon for the majority of people who already ‘own’ houses (or have mortgages on them). They can sit back and see their asset rise in value without having to do anything. But for young people who want to buy their first house – to ‘get on the housing ladder’ in common parlance – it’s a disaster. They frequently can’t even afford the deposit and are forced into permanent renting which, for those who have experienced it, is a distinctly unpleasant and insecure existence, apart from the fact that it soaks up most of your disposable income.

The last time houses were this unaffordable in Britain Benjamin Disraeli was Prime Minster.

However, with the resumption of consumer inflation and the central banks’ response of raising interest rates, the majority are no longer so content. They are, belatedly, seeing at first hand the malevolent side of asset-price inflation. Because house prices, with official blessing, have risen exponentially for decades, mortgages are a lot more expensive. And when interest rates rise above the minute level they have occupied for years, so do mortgage interest payments. This has resulted in huge increases in mortgage payments for many people. More than anything else, this lies behind the haemorrhaging of Conservative support in Britain. The private renting experience is going viral.

The share-owing oligarchy

What has happened to house prices might have its downsides, a defender of the status quo might argue, but surely there is little to object to in shares rising in value, the other main form of asset-price inflation? In fact there is. Undoubtedly some people benefit but the windfall accrues to a very small minority of share owners, including corporate executives who, these days, are all partially paid in share options. The original Thatcherite promise of a ‘share-owning democracy’ is now just a bad joke.

We now live in a resolutely two-track economy in which the stock market prospers while the real economy flounders. But given that rich people, who own shares, largely control the manufacture of public opinion, this experience doesn’t truly hit home. Thus the official opposition can come out with ludicrous non sequiturs like “when business profits, we all do” and are taken seriously.

The share price boom also comes at the cost of spiralling inequality. Since 2009, as the stock market has enjoyed nearly unprecedented gains, the wealth of the top billionaires in Britain has grown by 281%. In 2021, as actual economic activity was mothballed but massive amounts of QE ensured asset prices went skywards, the planet’s wealthiest people saw their balance sheets swell by $5 trillion. In Britain, since the pandemic, in the midst of the cost of living crisis, the number of billionaires has risen by a fifth.

Another trusted method of ensuring share prices go on rising – share buy backs – also damages the real economy. Because often the money companies use to buy back their shares (thus decreasing their number and raising their price) comes from funds that could otherwise be spent on business investment, they work to enrich their shareholder owners at the expense of wider economic health. Anaemic investment in production is a problem all over the western world.

The share price boom is not a win-win situation. It’s more like they win, you lose.

The economic trapeze

Central bankers – those who twiddle the dials of the world economy – are in a real quandary because of the actions of the Houthis. They believed they had, through historically moderate interest rates rises, solved the problem of the re-emergence of consumer inflation, as prices were heading downwards. They could then return to their prime function – ensuring that asset prices go on rising.

However, if global trade is impaired because of attacks on shipping in the Middle East, consumer inflation may return with a vengeance. If that happens, central bankers might feel they have no choice but to increase interest rates again, risking pricking the multi-asset bubble they have so carefully cultivated for the last decade or more.

It is a little appreciated fact that the 2008 Global Financial Crisis was sparked after a rise in interest rates. In America, they rose, incrementally, from 1 per cent in 2003 to 5.25% in 2007. Really large rises in interest rates do cause recessions, as evidenced by the experience of Britain and America in the early 1980s when, to prepare the ground for the Thatcher and Reagan ‘revolutions’, rates were increased to 17/18% in full knowledge of the carnage that would – and did – follow.

Given that western economies are much more indebted than they ever were when John Lennon was murdered, much more modest rises could have a catastrophic effect. 

According to economist Radhika Desai, if the Federal Reserve raises interest rates to “required levels, the US can expect a recession that will make that of the 1980s seem like a boom”. The alternative to not doing so is, if the projected effect on world trade comes to pass, the return of chronic (consumer) inflation. “Both paths,” she says “will damage working class incomes and wellbeing”.

Manchester United and the malaise of our time?

 

What do Manchester United and English water companies have in common? Not a great deal you might say beyond being not very successful at what they do. Once a football titan, Man U is now a has-been. Twice a recent winner of the Champions League and regular semi-finalist, the club now struggles to get out of the competition’s group stage. The winner of 13 Premier League titles since 1992, it now cannot compete with its rivals across the city of Manchester, not to mention numerous other clubs.

English water companies, meanwhile, are notorious for not doing their basic job of ensuring clean water in rivers and seas. Despite it being a legal requirement, they have not invested in infrastructure, preferring to pay out enormous dividends to their investors. And the real level of the pollution may be much higher than the firms admit.

But delve a bit deeper and there is something else that unites these two apparently disparate ‘businesses’*. They are both creatures of private equity (PE). Private equity is where a firm is taken off the stock market by a takeover. The new owners borrow the money to acquire the target company in what is called a ‘leveraged buyout’, in the process loading it down with massive debt. Once acquired, along with interest payments on the debt, large dividends are prioritised, either solely for the owners or for their investors/clients.

A family club

Manchester United, for example, had been a public limited firm (i.e. anyone could buy shares in it) from 1991 until 2005 when it was taken private by the Glazer family in a £790m leveraged buyout. Virtually debt-free since 1931, the club’s net debt now stands at £500m and has been much higher. Man U pays over £18m in annual interest on that debt and, unusually for a football club, £32m in yearly dividend payments to the Glazers.

Private Equity ownership is now more common for football clubs (think of Chelsea) but Manchester United provides an opportunity to observe the effect of PE ownership over time – and the picture is not a good one. This is not a financial crisis, which football clubs are especially susceptible to, but the mature consequence of a particular type of financial regime. No wonder fans are desperate for the Glazers to sell up.

Now consider the ten English water companies, all but three of whom have been taken off the stock market by their private equity owners. The commonalities with Manchester United are striking. When Thatcher privatised the ‘industry’ in 1989, it had its existing £5bn debt written off. Since then the debt pile has mushroomed to £60bn. The debt of the largest water company, Thames Water, rose from £3.4bn to £10.8 billion after it was acquired by Australian investment bank, Macquarie, in 2007 and now the firm is in danger of bankruptcy. Since privatisation, over £70bn in dividends has been paid out while bills have increased by 40%, while increases of a similar scale are forecast to deal with the sewage spills that have been allowed to happen.

In either case, what you might think of as the primary function – winning trophies or ensuring clean water – has taken a back seat in favour of maximising returns to the owners.

‘Public’ versus Private capitalism

Maximising returns, you might say, is simply what capitalism does and you’re not wrong as Walter from The Big Lebowski would doubtless attest. However, as English academic Carolyn Sissoko argues, the ‘old fashioned’ way of maximising returns through ‘public’ corporations at least sometimes had a collateral benefit in the shape of capital investment leading to products that people wanted to buy. What happens under private equity capitalism is an entirely valueless process in which the only beneficiaries are extremely rich people becoming even richer. Actually it’s worse than that. Private Equity destroys value for everyone else – consumers, workers, supporters, target companies – apart from the owners who make out like bandits.  As Sissoko puts it:

Whereas the corporate form is a win-win for the economy when it is used to facilitate the raising of funds for large projects that could not otherwise by completed such as railroads or trans-oceanic cables, the corporate form is transformed into a win-lose for the economy when it is used to impose huge debt burdens on otherwise successful corporations.

And this particular form of capitalism is on the march. According to Sissoko, private equity now controls more than 10% of the US stock market, up from 0% 40 years ago. And she says it is “positioned to continue displacing the public corporate form at a rapid pace”.

Where America leads, Britain dutifully follows and PE on these shores is, in the description of advertising sultan Martin Sorrell, “rampant”. Supermarkets such as Morrisons and Asda are PE-owned as was Debenhams before its demise. And in addition to water companies, many care homes have been taken over by private equity firms.

It is important to stress here that the critics of PE are not merely saying the practice is perverting organisations that have – or should have – a social purpose at their heart. It is doing that obviously but by loading down for-profit companies with huge debt – procured in order to take them over – PE is, in a supreme effort of self-destruction, warping capitalism itself. The frighteningly large level of global corporate debt, which has increased by double the rate of personal and financial debt since 2007 (which have also risen exponentially) can be attributed, at least in part, to the modus operandi of private equity. And while this debt mountain may have been manageable in the context of rock-bottom interest rates, as rates have risen, the debt-ridden concoctions of PE are – as shown by the travails of Thames Water – becoming more and more exposed.

No paradox

This is not a new problem though one that hasn’t been around for a while. In the 19^th century, Karl Marx bemoaned the existence of ‘usury capital’ – money lent purely to maximise the interest paid to the lender. This was in contrast to ‘industrial capital’ which had a social purpose in that it purchased shares in – and thus financed – enterprises which made new products or changed the way they were produced. The former, he said, “does not alter the mode of production, but attaches itself as a parasite and makes it miserable. It sucks its blood, kills its nerve, and compels reproduction to proceed under even more disheartening conditions.”

For usury capital in the Victorian age, read Private Equity today.

Brett Christophers, the Sweden-based academic and author of the exposé of PE, Our Lives in their Portfolios, has previously noted the interesting fact that Adam Smith – the darling of the Right and father of market economics and Marx – the pre-eminent left-wing critic of capitalism – shared “the belief that it was entirely possible for an activity to be revenue- and profit-generative without actually contributing to the creation of value. There was no paradox.”

And we are now in an era where value, once again, is not being created. As contemporary economist Michael Hudson has documented, PE is just one of several ways that ‘activist shareholders’, hedge funds and banks have, since the 1980s, increased looked upon public listed companies as cash cows to be looted regardless of the long-term consequences. Illegal until the Thatcher and Reagan eras, share buy-backs are now commonplace for corporations. In the US, Apple, IBM, Exxon Mobil, and Proctor & Gamble are some of the most famous exponents. In the UK, recent practitioners include BP, Shell, Diageo (Guinness, Smirnoff etc.), HSBC, and Unilever.

Share buy-backs are often undertaken under pressure from large shareholders and the company will, not infrequently, swallow a “poison pill” (in Hudson’s words), placing itself in severe debt to purchase its own stock. The effect of a share buy-back is to reduce the overall number of a company’s shares, thereby increasing capital gains and dividend pay outs to its existing shareholders. But its side-effect is to shrink the amount of capital the company has to invest in research and development and growing its own business.

But some companies, says Hudson, have stubbornly resisted the trend and concentrated on building up their business. He cites the example of Google, which, at least in its early days, aimed to use “corporate profits to expand the business rather than giving quick hit-and-run returns to the wealthiest One Percent.”**

Capitalism will eat itself

But this highlights a fatal flaw in the arguments of those who criticise private equity – and kindred financial innovations – for subverting capitalism. Google may have defied the financial bloodsuckers and concentrated on R&D but the effect of this, although good for Google’s health as a business (it’s worth over $1 trillion now apparently), cannot be classed as beneficial for society as a whole. Its innovations have consisted in myriad ways to beguile the attention-spans of billions of people so that they can be exposed to more advertising. If this is a “win-win”, in Sissoko’s description, I think we need to re-define what we mean by winning.

Google is also an intimate part of the whole Big Tech social media revolution which, because it is founded on getting people to compare themselves to others, is having a corroding effect on mental health. From 2018 to 2023, Norway, for example, fell from 3^rd place in the world happiness league table to seventh because of a decline among its young people. And – an assiduously cultivated – addiction to social media also certainly lies behind that.

Likewise, if oil companies want to buy back their own shares rather than putting all available resources into drilling for oil and gas deposits, thereby intensifying global warming, why should we try to talk them out of it?

Why, this time around, should we be the ones – in erstwhile Keynesian fashion – to ‘save capitalism from itself’?

It is a good question.

To be continued

* H/T to a friend who pointed out the link

** Quote from Hudson’s Killing the Host which is well worth reading

Debt: The Last 30 Years

We are marginally less constipated than before. Ideologically speaking. Thanks in large part to Jeremy Corbyn British politics has begun to move on from the mendacious obsession with public debt being the cause of the last financial crisis (and the harbinger of future ones).

Political conservation has started to appreciate the seriousness of enormous levels of private debt, which was always the elephant in the room. The Bank of England has warned of a ‘spiral of complacency’ about growing household debt, while the IMF has cautioned that the ‘rapid growth in household debt – especially mortgages – can be dangerous’. Anthropologist David Graeber says ‘the household sector is a rolling catastrophe’. Around 17 million Britons have less than £100 in savings.  And with the BoE making noises about raising interest rates from rock bottom levels, there are worries that some mortgage-holders could default, precipitating a US-style sub-prime crisis.

The problem is that all attention is directed at one kind of private debt – personal debt. And while its seriousness should not be minimised there are other sorts of private debt that merit just as much, if not more, concern:

Personal debt is not the most extreme form of private debt

Private debt can be divided into three types – financial sector debt (i.e. banks & insurance companies), corporate debt and personal or household debt. All three have grown exponentially since the start of the 1990s. According to economist Michael Roberts, what he terms ‘global liquidity’, a combination of banks loans, securitized debt and derivatives, mushroomed from 150% of world GDP in 1990 to 350% in 2011. And while in some countries, colossal financial sector debt has declined to a degree following the financial crisis, and household debt levels fell before rising once more, corporate debt, nourished by near zero interest rates, has just snowballed over the last nine years.

According to figures released by management consultants McKinsey in 2015, all forms of private debt have grown since 2007 but corporate debt has increased by double the rate of both household and financial debt, which nonetheless rose but in a more subdued manner than before the crisis (see the graphic in this article). Government debt has also exploded as financial debt was transferred to state coffers. “Nonfinancial corporate debt remains the largest component of overall in the advanced capitalist economies at 113% of GDP,” says Roberts, “compared to 104% for government debt and 90% for household debt.”

The forms that corporate debt takes vary but one of the most common is for companies to use debt to buy back their own shares. This practice, which was illegal in the United States before 1982, increases the firm’s share price in a totally artificial manner, giving the appearance of financial health and success in the marketplace. Frequently, it also personally benefits the corporate executives who authorise it as they are paid partly in stock options. In fact the corporate sector has been the main buyer of US equities since the market meltdown of 2008, engaging in what has been described as ‘the greatest debt-funded buyback spree in history’. It was estimated that in 2017 the largest US companies would spend a record $780 billion on share buy backs, though, in reality, the forecast bonanza has apparently hit a snag.

Or possibly corporate debt takes the form of shareholder loans, the practice by which one company deliberately loads another company that they own (they are the main shareholders) with huge amounts of debt which the captive company is then obliged to pay back at high rates of interest; 15 or 20% for example. The Financial Times recently highlighted the case of Arqiva which owns 9/10ths of the UK’s terrestrial TV transmission networks and, in the three years to June 2016, paid around £750 million in interest to its controlling shareholders, payments financed by borrowing.  It is now £3 billion in debt. And that’s just one company.

Household debt did not cause the 2007-8 Global Financial Crisis

What household debt did was light the touch-paper. The nationwide implosion of the housing market in America after interest rates were raised signalled the demise of all those mortgage backed securities and collateralized debt obligations but the reason it proved so devastating for the US economy and spread the crisis around the world was because of the fatal combination of household debt with gargantuan financial sector and corporate debt. The Global Financial Crisis was sparked in August 2007 (‘the day the world changed’) when French bank BNP Paribas froze its funds because of its exposure to the mortgage backed securities of the US sub-prime market. The problem wasn’t defaulting French mortgage-holders but the effects were being felt by a French bank. BNP was one of three major French banks who were collectively overleveraged to the tune of 237% of French GDP. That level of indebtedness caused the crisis to spread to Europe as hugely indebted, and now effectively insolvent, European banks called in the loans they had made to southern European governments.

Nobody can say with any assurance what the trigger will be for the next financial crisis. It might be heavily indebted US college graduates or UK credit card borrowers or Australian consumers or Dutch mortgage holders (a country which has the most indebted households in the euro area).

But it’s equally possible that the fuse will be lit from another sector of the economy entirely – massively overleveraged corporations being unable to repay their creditors when interest rates rise, for instance. In that case, households will simply be spectators to the unfolding events.

All the focus is on personal debt because it represents a morality play

In Debt: The First 5,000 Years David Graeber points out that in Sanskrit, Aramaic and Hebrew ‘debt’, ‘guilt’ and ‘sin’ are all the same word. In modern German, the word for ‘debt’ – schuld – also means guilt. “If history shows anything,” Graeber writes, “it is that there’s no better way to justify relations founded on violence, to make such relations seem moral, than by reframing them in the language of debt – above all because it immediately makes it seem that it’s the victim who’s doing something wrong.”

The existence of enormous level of personal debt in advanced capitalist countries is a sure sign that the individual freedom these societies claim to uphold is skin deep. In reality, they are founded relations of coercion and control. To be in debt is to have someone’s boot on your neck. In the UK, high rates of personal debt are intimately related to the fact that real wages are 10 per cent lower than a decade ago. Rising personal debt is also strongly correlated to mental health problems like depression and anxiety.

From another perspective, personal debt is the symbol of our fatal addiction to consumerism, the consequence of an all-embracing need to maintain a modern lifestyle, decorated with the latest products, no matter what the cost to ourselves or the environment. Either way, personal debt unmistakably says something about the current state of society – what drives it and who is in control.

Corporate and financial sector debt, by contrast, is not only opaque, it is frightening neutral. Debt has simply become the way of doing business over the last 30 years. Debtors are frequently also creditors and companies may simultaneously indebt themselves and hoard cash. Indeed, increasing ‘leverage’ (to use the technical term) or loading debt onto captive companies (as in the Arqiva case) is often the primary means by which profits are made. No sense of shame or ‘doing something wrong’ attaches to it.

The question that should arise is why the corporate sector – financial and otherwise – has become so addicted to debt? Why is old-fashioned investment in new products or new technologies comparatively shunned?

It is possible to reduce personal debt but corporate debt is far more of an intractable problem

Theoretically it is possible to cut personal debt to more manageable and less dangerous levels.  Ending austerity, strengthening trade unions, instituting rent controls and directing efforts to raising the level of real wages should see the rates of payday loan and credit card debt diminish. I say theoretically because, interestingly, some of the highest quantities of personal debt, as a proportion of GDP, are in Scandinavian countries – nations that have impressive rates of trade union membership, collective bargaining and high personal incomes. However, those in debt in Nordic countries tend to be higher earners. In the US and UK, by contrast, personal debt often afflicts people much lower down the income scale – people who are much more likely to default given a slight change in the economic winds.

Corporate debt is a different matter entirely. The massive government bail outs of 2008 only succeeded in transferring debt from the financial sector to the state and, even then, only denting marginally the indebtedness of the banks. Corporations, whose debt had risen markedly over the previous twenty years, merely took advantage of the lower interest rate environment, to become even more indebted.

The writer and broadcaster Paul Mason says governments have to do something ‘clear and progressive about debts’. He advocates a policy of ‘financial repression’ – that is stimulating inflation and holding interest rates below the rate of inflation for 10 or 15 years as a way of writing off debt. But we can see the problems that a mild rise in the rate of inflation to the historically low level of 3% is currently causing people in the UK, with wages unable to catch up. Deliberately stoking inflation for a decade or more would surely precipitate the household debt defaults that so many people are warning about – inflation would erode the total amount of people’s debt but interest payments would still need to be met as real incomes plummeted. And if interest rates are below inflation – as they are now – the incentive for corporations to take on more debt is still there.

It is difficult to imagine how this system can gradually and progressively resolve its problems without provoking the economic collapse that everyone is so desperate to avoid.

Addendum

It's probably worth re-emphasising that when I speak about corporate debt, I'm not referring to the borrowing a company naturally needs to do to keep going and expand its operations. See - https://www.touchfinancial.co.uk/knowledge-centre/blog/4-reasons-why-successful-businesses-borrow-money

What's happening now is massive borrowing to either appear successful (share buy backs) or invest in debt to make more money. They're nothing to do with how capitalism is meant to function in the textbooks.