Friday, November 14, 2008

How to kill a bull...

The global financial market has gotten way to complicated for me too understand. Granted, I didn't major in economics in college, but I still consider myself a relatively intelligent guy who should be able to sort of get some semblance of how Wall Street works. This scares me given the fact that we all rely on financial investments to insure we aren't living in a tent eating Spaghettios for dinner when we retire, especially with the gloom and doom reports that I hear on the news everyday.

It used to be, that this didn't worry me so much. Heck, I'm no Warren Buffet genius, so I figured, it's best to leave the mental work of the market to the experts. But as I think about it more, I have to wonder where this unearned confidence in the investment community ever came from. I used to recall a banner in the commons at some college once that said something to the effect of, "Want a BMW when you grow up? Get an MBA."  This was the kind of people they were recruiting into business school.  Not anyone with a social consience, just guys whose goal in life was to make lots and lots of money.  Now typically there is the occassional wiz kid that really wants to understand  economic theory, but I always got the feeling that most of the guys going into finance and business weren't always the brightest guys in the world.  I had this stereotypical image that the smartest students became engineers, doctors, scientists, and maybe even lawyers while the others were a bunch of frat boys just extending their party to Wall Street, with some bullshitting their way to the very top.  So instead of the best and the brightest in the world overseeing essentially our future livelihood, we've got clueless guys playing a game of high stakes poker and making poor bets with our money.  Based on this article by Michael Lewis about what led to the current economic collapse, maybe I wasn't so far off:

Here's where financial technology became suddenly, urgently relevant. The typical mortgage bond was still structured in much the same way it had been when I worked at Salomon Brothers. The loans went into a trust that was designed to pay off its investors not all at once but according to their rankings. The investors in the top tranche, rated AAA, received the first payment from the trust and, because their investment was the least risky, received the lowest interest rate on their money. The investors who held the trusts' BBB tranche got the last payments—and bore the brunt of the first defaults. Because they were taking the most risk, they received the highest return. Eisman wanted to bet that some subprime borrowers would default, causing the trust to suffer losses. The way to express this view was to short the BBB tranche. The trouble was that the BBB tranche was only a tiny slice of the deal.

But the scarcity of truly crappy subprime-mortgage bonds no longer mattered. The big Wall Street firms had just made it possible to short even the tiniest and most obscure subprime-mortgage-backed bond by creating, in effect, a market of side bets. Instead of shorting the actual BBB bond, you could now enter into an agreement for a credit-default swap with Deutsche Bank or Goldman Sachs. It cost money to make this side bet, but nothing like what it cost to short the stocks, and the upside was far greater.

The arrangement bore the same relation to actual finance as fantasy football bears to the N.F.L. Eisman was perplexed in particular about why Wall Street firms would be to and asking him to sell short. "What Lippman did, to his credit, was he came around several times to me and said, 'Short this market,' " Eisman says. "In my entire life, I never saw a sell-side guy come in and say, 'Short my market.' "

And short Eisman did—then he tried to get his mind around what he'd just done so he could do it better. He'd call over to a big firm and ask for a list of mortgage bonds from all over the country. The juiciest shorts—the bonds ultimately backed by the mortgages most likely to default—had several characteristics. They'd be in what Wall Street people were now calling the sand states: Arizona, California, Florida, Nevada. The loans would have been made by one of the more dubious mortgage lenders; Long Beach Financial, wholly owned by Washington Mutual, was a great example. Long Beach Financial was moving money out the door as fast as it could, few questions asked, in loans built to self-destruct. It specialized in asking home owners with bad credit and no proof of income to put no money down and defer interest payments for as long as possible. In Bakersfield, California, a Mexican strawberry picker with an income of $14,000 and no English was lent every penny he needed to buy a house for $720,000.

More generally, the subprime market tapped a tranche of the American public that did not typically have anything to do with Wall Street. Lenders were making loans to people who, based on their credit ratings, were less creditworthy than 71 percent of the population. Eisman knew some of these people. One day, his housekeeper, a South American woman, told him that she was planning to buy a townhouse in Queens. "The price was absurd, and they were giving her a low-down-payment option-ARM," says Eisman, who talked her into taking out a conventional fixed-rate mortgage. Next, the baby nurse he'd hired back in 1997 to take care of his newborn twin daughters phoned him. "She was this lovely woman from Jamaica," he says. "One day she calls me and says she and her sister own five townhouses in Queens. I said, 'How did that happen?' " It happened because after they bought the first one and its value rose, the lenders came and suggested they refinance and take out $250,000, which they used to buy another one. Then the price of that one rose too, and they repeated the experiment. "By the time they were done," Eisman says, "they owned five of them, the market was falling, and they couldn't make any of the payments."

The entire article is a bit of a lengthy read, but kind of fascinating to see exactly how either clueless or evil these guys are.  Maybe that's where the symbol of the bull for a growing market came from--it's all just based on bullshit.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

love this anonymous login stuff, Fandango again.

wallstreet it is just legalized gambling, everyday. its like living in vegas i would think, and the reality with the day traders is, that once the NY markets close, they can continue to trade after hours in Tokyo, Sydney, Hong Kong, etc etc, etc, and get 24 hours of fix.

just like vegas, without the buffet.
my 401k and IRA are all mutual funds, b/c i'm in for the long term, and these bozos created chaos for the m funds last quarter.

Fandango6 said...

swany, i reset it myself.