Thursday, October 09, 2008

Forget 1929! Remember 1873!

A Soviet economist, Nikolai Kondratiev (1892-1938), predicted that we would see the Mother of all Depressions in the late 1990s. Oops. It may be ten years late, but the Mother of all Depressions appears to be upon us. In the meantime, we should study the economic meltdown of the 1870s, not the 1930s. Be very afraid. If this is (fair & balanced) economic history, so be it.

[x CHE]
The Real Great Depression
By Scott Reynolds Nelson

As a historian who works on the 19th century, I have been reading my newspaper with a considerable sense of dread. While many commentators on the recent mortgage and banking crisis have drawn parallels to the Great Depression of 1929, that comparison is not particularly apt. Two years ago, I began research on the Panic of 1873, an event of some interest to my colleagues in American business and labor history but probably unknown to everyone else. But as I turn the crank on the microfilm reader, I have been hearing weird echoes of recent events.

When commentators invoke 1929, I am dubious. According to most historians and economists, that depression had more to do with overlarge factory inventories, a stock-market crash, and Germany's inability to pay back war debts, which then led to continuing strain on British gold reserves. None of those factors is really an issue now. Contemporary industries have very sensitive controls for trimming production as consumption declines; our current stock-market dip followed bank problems that emerged more than a year ago; and there are no serious international problems with gold reserves, simply because banks no longer peg their lending to them.

In fact, the current economic woes look a lot like what my 96-year-old grandmother still calls "the real Great Depression." She pinched pennies in the 1930s, but she says that times were not nearly so bad as the depression her grandparents went through. That crash came in 1873 and lasted more than four years. It looks much more like our current crisis.

The problems had emerged around 1870, starting in Europe. In the Austro-Hungarian Empire, formed in 1867, in the states unified by Prussia into the German empire, and in France, the emperors supported a flowering of new lending institutions that issued mortgages for municipal and residential construction, especially in the capitals of Vienna, Berlin, and Paris. Mortgages were easier to obtain than before, and a building boom commenced. Land values seemed to climb and climb; borrowers ravenously assumed more and more credit, using unbuilt or half-built houses as collateral. The most marvelous spots for sightseers in the three cities today are the magisterial buildings erected in the so-called founder period.

But the economic fundamentals were shaky. Wheat exporters from Russia and Central Europe faced a new international competitor who drastically undersold them. The 19th-century version of containers manufactured in China and bound for Wal-Mart consisted of produce from farmers in the American Midwest. They used grain elevators, conveyer belts, and massive steam ships to export trainloads of wheat to abroad. Britain, the biggest importer of wheat, shifted to the cheap stuff quite suddenly around 1871. By 1872 kerosene and manufactured food were rocketing out of America's heartland, undermining rapeseed, flour, and beef prices. The crash came in Central Europe in May 1873, as it became clear that the region's assumptions about continual economic growth were too optimistic. Europeans faced what they came to call the American Commercial Invasion. A new industrial superpower had arrived, one whose low costs threatened European trade and a European way of life.

As continental banks tumbled, British banks held back their capital, unsure of which institutions were most involved in the mortgage crisis. The cost to borrow money from another bank — the interbank lending rate — reached impossibly high rates. This banking crisis hit the United States in the fall of 1873. Railroad companies tumbled first. They had crafted complex financial instruments that promised a fixed return, though few understood the underlying object that was guaranteed to investors in case of default. (Answer: nothing). The bonds had sold well at first, but they had tumbled after 1871 as investors began to doubt their value, prices weakened, and many railroads took on short-term bank loans to continue laying track. Then, as short-term lending rates skyrocketed across the Atlantic in 1873, the railroads were in trouble. When the railroad financier Jay Cooke proved unable to pay off his debts, the stock market crashed in September, closing hundreds of banks over the next three years. The panic continued for more than four years in the United States and for nearly six years in Europe.

The long-term effects of the Panic of 1873 were perverse. For the largest manufacturing companies in the United States — those with guaranteed contracts and the ability to make rebate deals with the railroads — the Panic years were golden. Andrew Carnegie, Cyrus McCormick, and John D. Rockefeller had enough capital reserves to finance their own continuing growth. For smaller industrial firms that relied on seasonal demand and outside capital, the situation was dire. As capital reserves dried up, so did their industries. Carnegie and Rockefeller bought out their competitors at fire-sale prices. The Gilded Age in the United States, as far as industrial concentration was concerned, had begun.

As the panic deepened, ordinary Americans suffered terribly. A cigar maker named Samuel Gompers who was young in 1873 later recalled that with the panic, "economic organization crumbled with some primeval upheaval." Between 1873 and 1877, as many smaller factories and workshops shuttered their doors, tens of thousands of workers — many former Civil War soldiers — became transients. The terms "tramp" and "bum," both indirect references to former soldiers, became commonplace American terms. Relief rolls exploded in major cities, with 25-percent unemployment (100,000 workers) in New York City alone. Unemployed workers demonstrated in Boston, Chicago, and New York in the winter of 1873-74 demanding public work. In New York's Tompkins Square in 1874, police entered the crowd with clubs and beat up thousands of men and women. The most violent strikes in American history followed the panic, including by the secret labor group known as the Molly Maguires in Pennsylvania's coal fields in 1875, when masked workmen exchanged gunfire with the "Coal and Iron Police," a private force commissioned by the state. A nationwide railroad strike followed in 1877, in which mobs destroyed railway hubs in Pittsburgh, Chicago, and Cumberland, Md.

In Central and Eastern Europe, times were even harder. Many political analysts blamed the crisis on a combination of foreign banks and Jews. Nationalistic political leaders (or agents of the Russian czar) embraced a new, sophisticated brand of anti-Semitism that proved appealing to thousands who had lost their livelihoods in the panic. Anti-Jewish pogroms followed in the 1880s, particularly in Russia and Ukraine. Heartland communities large and small had found a scapegoat: aliens in their own midst.

The echoes of the past in the current problems with residential mortgages trouble me. Loans after about 2001 were issued to first-time homebuyers who signed up for adjustablerate mortgages they could likely never pay off, even in the best of times. Real-estate speculators, hoping to flip properties, overextended themselves, assuming that home prices would keep climbing. Those debts were wrapped in complex securities that mortgage companies and other entrepreneurial banks then sold to other banks; concerned about the stability of those securities, banks then bought a kind of insurance policy called a credit-derivative swap, which risk managers imagined would protect their investments. More than two million foreclosure filings — default notices, auction-sale notices, and bank repossessions — were reported in 2007. By then trillions of dollars were already invested in this credit-derivative market. Were those new financial instruments resilient enough to cover all the risk? (Answer: no.) As in 1873, a complex financial pyramid rested on a pinhead. Banks are hoarding cash. Banks that hoard cash do not make short-term loans. Businesses large and small now face a potential dearth of short-term credit to buy raw materials, ship their products, and keep goods on shelves.

If there are lessons from 1873, they are different from those of 1929. Most important, when banks fall on Wall Street, they stop all the traffic on Main Street — for a very long time. The protracted reconstruction of banks in the United States and Europe created widespread unemployment. Unions (previously illegal in much of the world) flourished but were then destroyed by corporate institutions that learned to operate on the edge of the law. In Europe, politicians found their scapegoats in Jews, on the fringes of the economy. (Americans, on the other hand, mostly blamed themselves; many began to embrace what would later be called fundamentalist religion.)

The post-panic winners, even after the bailout, might be those firms — financial and otherwise — that have substantial cash reserves. A widespread consolidation of industries may be on the horizon, along with a nationalistic response of high tariff barriers, a decline in international trade, and scapegoating of immigrant competitors for scarce jobs. The failure in July of the World Trade Organization talks begun in Doha seven years ago suggests a new wave of protectionism may be on the way.

In the end, the Panic of 1873 demonstrated that the center of gravity for the world's credit had shifted west — from Central Europe toward the United States. The current panic suggests a further shift — from the United States to China and India. Beyond that I would not hazard a guess. I still have microfilm to read.

[Scott Reynolds Nelson is a professor of history at the College of William and Mary. Among his books is Steel Drivin' Man: John Henry, the Untold Story of an American Legend (2006). Nelson received a BA Magna Cum Laude in History and also an MA and PhD in History from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.]

Copyright © 2008 The Chronicle of Higher Education

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WTF? 50 51 Words You Need To Know

This blog is proud to present a glossary for geezers: "50 Words That Kids Don't Think You Know." Of course, a major term missed the cut in a geezer-oriented publication. Absent from the list of Text Message Codes is WTF: What the F--k? If there is a favorite word among the young, it is — what they call — the "F-bomb." So, with that supplement to this list, geezers should feel free to rock and toss F-bombs at other geezers (especially one whose name rhymes with brain-drain). If this is (fair & balanced) lexicography, so be it.

[x Geezer Bulletin]
50 Words That Kids Think You Don’t Know
By Betsy Towner

“You rock!”
“Sara can’t even put down her crackberry at the dinner table.”
“Will you google directions to the store?”
“The band’s drummer is tatted out, head to toe.”
“Tim cruised Main Street, flossin’ his new wheels.”
“Omigod, Uncle Jim just friended me on Facebook.”
“Our friendship jumped the shark when you forgot my birthday.”
“Rocky road ice cream is the bomb.”
“That skier’s move was sick!”
“Doug won’t explain why he’s mad? Dude, that’s wack.”

• Online

crackberry: nickname for a BlackBerry, the addictive phone, e-mail device and general digital gadget.
google: to use a search engine, especially Google.
hit: a visit to a website.
webisode: a video short produced specifically for Internet viewing.
wikidemia: a term paper that was entirely researched on Wikipedia.org.

• Text Message Decoder
BFF: best friends forever.
IDK: I don’t know.
LOL: laughing out loud.
OMG: oh my God!
ROFL: rolling on the floor laughing.
TMI: too much information.

• Fashion
bling: sparkly jewelry, often gaudy.
tatted out: covered in tattoos.
tramp stamp: a tattoo on a woman’s lower back, designed for viewing between low-riding jeans and short T-shirts.
scooby doos: good shoes.
soul patch: a small tuft of beard under a male’s lower lip, usually with the rest of the face clean-shaven.

• Love
baby mama: the mother of one’s children, usually not a spouse.
boo: boyfriend or girlfriend.
cougar: an older woman who dates younger men.
cupcaking: engaging in a public display of affection.
flirtationship: a prolonged flirtation with an acquaintance, not involving physical contact.

• Friends
brodown: boys’ night out.
bromance: a close but nonsexual relationship between two men.
frenemy: a friend-enemy; someone close to you who often competes or hurts your feelings.
n00b: a newcomer, especially one to online gaming. Also noob, newb, newbie.
peeps: people; one’s closest friends or family.

• Music
crunk: a hip-hop genre.
disco nap: a short nap before a night out clubbing.
emo: softcore punk genre and its subculture of angsty teen fans.
mash up: To take elements of existing pieces of music, usually of different genres, and combine them in a new song; also the resulting song.

• Actions
check vitals: to monitor one’s e-mail, cell phone, voice mail and other electronics.
floss: to show off your wealth, often in a car.
friend: to add as a contact on a social networking website.
jump the shark: to have peaked and now be on a downward slide.
rock: to manifest greatness.
talk smack: to speak negatively or belittle a person, often in the heat of competition.

• Affirmations
fo’ shizzle: certainly.
obvi: obviously.
totes: totally.

• Descriptors
bomb, the: an ultimate favorite.
off the chain: the bomb.
ridonkulous: beyond ridiculous.
sick: extremely cool.
tight: fantastic.
wack: unjustifiable.

• Britishisms
chav: derogatory term for a working-class youth.
nutter: crazy person.
snog: to kiss.
T5: disorganization, like the infamous new Terminal Five at Heathrow Airport.

• The End
badonkadonk: an attractive derrière.


[Betsy Towner is a columnist for the AARP Bulletin and her columns play on 50 (the minimum age for AARP membership).]

Copyright © 2008 AARP

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The Krait Shows Why "In Your Guts, You Know He's Nuts!"

The Geezer is one brick shy of a load. He justifies the slime and sleaze of his campaign because The Hopester did not take the bait and engage in a near-weekly series of "town-hall meetings" with The Geezer as the main feature of the '08 campaign. The Geezer invokes the memories of JFK and AuH2O who supposedly "agreed" to hold such town-hall meetings during the 1964 campaign. Unfortunately, JFK was assassinated in 1963 and Goldwater (AuH2O) ran against LBJ instead. There were no town-hall events in '64. The Dumbo/Goldwater slogan in '64 was "In your heart, you know he's right." One of LBJ's aides, now a PBS commentator, Bill Moyers offered an alternative to the Dumbo/Goldwater slogan: "In your guts, you know he's nuts." Truer words about The Geezer could not be spoken. At the risk of sounding like Jumpin' Joe, let this blogger repeat his '08 slogan for The Geezer: In my guts, I know he's nuts. If this is (fair & balanced) political invective, so be it.

[x NY Fishwrap]
Clearing The Ayers
By Gail Collins

John McCain traces the rancorous tone of the presidential campaign back to last summer when he invited Barack Obama to have lots and lots of town-hall meetings with him all around the country. When Obama turned him down, obviously McCain had no choice but to start depicting his opponent as a terrorist-loving advocate of talking dirty to kindergarteners.

Finally this week, the two men did meet in a town-hall showdown, which turned out to be like all other debates, except with much less excitement and much more pacing around. It seems unlikely that many people switched off their TV sets and said: “Gee, I could sit through a dozen of these.”

McCain may feel compelled to go back to his guilt-by-association theme. And this has me feeling very guilty about my associates.

The McCain folks have been obsessed with William Ayers, a neighbor of Obama’s who is a professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Back in the 1960s, Ayers and his wife, Bernardine Dohrn, were leaders of the Weather Underground, an antiwar group whose penchant for violence was exceeded only by its haplessness. Ayers has since become an education expert and was named Chicago’s Citizen of the Year in 1997. He gave Obama a house party when Obama was running for the State Senate.

In my experience, most State Senate hopefuls are so thrilled at any sign of interest that they would happily attend a reception given by a homeless couple in their cardboard box. But even though Obama was 8 years old at the time the Weathermen were in the news, that house party puts all their misdeeds on his platter. Sarah Palin has been telling her increasingly scary rallies that he is somebody “who sees America as imperfect enough to pal around with terrorists.”

Fox News, in a one-hour special on Obama’s associates hosted by Sean Hannity, came up with an “Internet journalist” named Andy Martin who has spent his life running bizarre political campaigns with occasional detours into the clink and filing lawsuits laced with paranoia and anti-Semitism. Based on this expertise, Martin deduced that Ayers was the puppet master of Obama’s rise in politics and that Obama’s community-organizer gig was actually training for “a radical overthrow of the government.”

Before we go any further, I have a confession to make. When I was a college student, I believe I attended a party with Bernardine Dohrn. This was pre-Weather, when Dohrn was a leader of the Students for a Democratic Society, better known as S.D.S. Some of my friends wanted to meet her because they were interested in establishing an S.D.S. chapter at our campus. I was opposed, under the presumption that S.D.S. meant Students for Decent Styles, a group that had been active in fighting spaghetti-strap dresses at my high school.

Still, under the new rules, I believe I may now be held partly responsible for all of Dohrn’s misdeeds, including aggravated battery, bail jumping, the Days of Rage and unreadable political tracts.

McCain’s favorite supporter, Senator Joseph Lieberman, recently called the Obama-Ayers connection “fair game.” This reminded me that Lieberman once came to a party at my house. It was years ago, when he was still a Connecticut state senator, and we have already established that state senators will go to anything. Still, I can’t help but feel that I am not only a potential victim of the new guilt-by-association standard, I am also somewhat complicit in establishing it.

Obama’s retaliation for the Ayers assault has been to remind voters that many years ago McCain was censured in the Senate for his relationship with Charles Keating, the rogue banker whose failed Lincoln Savings and Loan cost the taxpayers $2.6 billion at a time when $2.6 billion was really worth something.

When I was a teenager, Keating came to my Catholic girls high school in Cincinnati in his capacity as the founder of Citizens for Decent Literature, an anti-pornography group. His theme was the evil of wearing shorts in the summertime.

Keating said he knew a young mother who took her child for a walk while wearing Bermuda shorts. A motorist, overwhelmed with lust at the sight of the back of her uncovered calves, lost control of his car and slammed into them. Everybody was killed, and it was all her fault. We were then asked to sign pledge cards promising to conform to standards of modesty that would have satisfied the Taliban.

True, none of this really proves that I was responsible for the banking scandals of the 1980s. But if Barack Obama is responsible for the Weather Underground, and if the mother in Bermuda shorts was responsible for the car crash, I am pretty sure that I am on the hook as well.

[Gail Collins joined The New York Times in 1995 as a member of the editorial board and later as an op-ed columnist. In 2001 she became the first woman ever appointed editor of The Times editorial page. At the beginning of 2007, she stepped down and began a leave in order to finish a sequel to her book, America's Women: 400 Years of Dolls, Drudges, Helpmates and Heroines. She returned to The Times as a columnist in July 2007. Collins has a degree in journalism from Marquette University and an M.A. in government from the University of Massachusetts-Amherst. Prior to The New York Times, Collins wrote for the New York Daily News, Newsday, Connecticut Business Journal, United Press International, and the Associated Press in New York City.]

Copyright © 2008 The New York Times Company

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