It has become an article of faith for many on the left and some from other political precincts that the 1999 repeal of the Depression-era Glass-Steagall Act, which separated commercial banks from Wall Street, is directly responsible for our current dire financial plight. Its repeal, argued journalist Robert Kuttner in testimony before Congress last year, enabled "super-banks ... to re-enact the same kinds of structural conflicts of interest that were endemic in the 1920s."
Kuttner may be right about the conflicts, but it's awfully hard to see how they brought on the current mess. In fact, Bank of America's takeover of Merrill Lynch and JP Morgan Chase's of Bear Stearns underscored a truth that was already becoming apparent on Wall Street super-banks (more commonly known as universal banks) are, for all their flaws, a lot more stable and secure than un-super investment banks.
"If you didn't have commercial banks ready to step in, you'd have a vastly bigger crisis today," says Jim Leach, a Republican former Congressman from Iowa (and current Barack Obama supporter) whose name is on the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act that repealed Glass-Steagall. Leach is no neutral observer, and there can be no proving that Glass-Steagall repeal has made the world safer. But amid the predictable debate now underway about how much new financial regulation is needed, it just doesn't make a very convincing scapegoat for the crisis.
Also unconvincing is the claim made by some conservatives that the Clinton Administration's 1995 Community Reinvestment Act (CRA) regulations, which pushed banks to lend in poor communities, caused the subprime mortgage lending binge that sparked the current troubles. It's certainly conceivable that Washington's long-held obsession with fostering home ownership helped fuel the housing bubble. But when the subprime lending binge really took off from 2003 to 2006, financial institutions subject to CRA weren't the ones leading the way. Neither were government-sponsored behemoths Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.
No, starting in 2003, as a long boom in house prices and mortgage lending that had at least some foundation in economic reality (lower interest rates, higher incomes) gave way to an orgy of ever-sharper price increases fueled by ever-dodgier loans, the folks in the drivers' seat were the mortgage brokers that made the loans and the Wall Street investment banks that packaged them into private-label mortgage-backed securities.
And these people were barely regulated at all, at least not in the sense that bankers are regulated. "You had a regulatory mechanism that was targeted very narrowly to prudential regulation of the banking industry," says Gene Ludwig, who as Comptroller of the Currency oversaw the nation's big banks from 1993 to 1998. What that did, Ludwig explains, was to motivate banking companies to move activities to their less-regulated affiliates, and give a leg up to competitors (stand-alone investment firms, hedge funds, mortgage brokers, you name it) that weren't being watched by banking regulators at all.
(See the winners and losers of the Wall Street mess here.)
(See photos of the troubled economy here.)
The result was the growth of what's now often termed the shadow banking system of securitization and derivatives, which took over many of the responsibilities of banks but was not subjected to the same kind of risk controls or oversight. This process began in the 1970s, as the rigid New Deal approach of segmenting financial institutions into narrowly defined boxes began to crack under the pressure of inflation, globalization and floating exchange rates. The money market mutual fund, invented in 1971 as a way to get around federal limits on savings-account interest rates, was among the first of many innovations that undermined the old ways.
The anti-regulation ideological bent of the Reagan administration sped this transformation, but the Clinton years were the really interesting ones. In the aftermath of the savings and loan collapse and a banking-industry near-miss there was a flurry of activity aimed at keeping banks healthy, not by shoving them back into their New Deal box but by reasserting their central role in the financial system. Glass-Steagall repeal can best be understood as part of this effort. So was 1994 legislation allowing interstate branching. This was a bipartisan movement: The Gramm-Leach-Bliley legislation passed the Senate 90-8 (Joe Biden was for it; John McCain didn't vote, but had supported the bill in an earlier roll call).
There's an argument to be made that if this kind of regulatory approach had continued into the Bush years, some emerging financial market excesses might have been nipped in the bud. Until very recently, the Bush Administration has showed no interest whatsoever in tightening financial regulation, and at the Federal Reserve Alan Greenspan was if anything even less interested. The Fed had the power to impose stricter mortgage lending rules even on non-banks, which it finally did earlier this year banning, among other things, the making of loans "without regard to borrowers' ability to repay the loan from income and assets other than the home's value." Greenspan, though, rejected pleas from his Fed colleague Edward Gramlich to crack down earlier.
But even before 2001 there was a widespread, bipartisan Washington consensus that financial markets knew best. And even when some in government suspected that they didn't, the territorial lines between regulatory agencies often stood in the way of doing anything about it. The Securities and Exchange Commission, well versed in investor protection but not so much in safety and soundness, remained as lead regulator of brokerage firms even as they evolved into giant investment banks whose failure could endanger the financial system. The Office of the Comptroller of the Currency battled state regulators over who had the right to impose consumer protection rules. And in a struggle that has taken on special resonance this week, Commodity Futures Trading Commission chief Brooksley Born a Clinton appointee tried after the collapse of the hedge fund Long-Term Capital Management in 1998 to impose some kind of federal oversight on the over-the-counter derivatives market, and was thwarted by a less-than-holy alliance of anti-regulation types in Congress and colleagues in the Clinton administration who didn't want to see the CFTC get authority over a business then dominated by banks.
Maybe the CFTC, a strange little agency overseen by the Congressional agricultural committees, had no business regulating OTC derivatives. But the fact that nobody regulated them, even as the business grew and migrated from banks to firms like Bear Stearns and AIG, is a big reason why the world's financial markets are in such crisis this week. Bear and AIG were bailed out in part because they were big players in the market for credit default swaps, derivatives that are meant to insure against loans gone bad. Regulators have such an unclear picture of who's on the hook to whom in this market that they feared the collapse of either firm would spark a chain reaction of defaults, and investors are so panicked by the unknown that they are selling shares in even seemingly healthy investment banks Goldman Sachs and Morgan Stanley.
One positive sign in this week's mess is that both the turf battles and unyielding attachment to deregulation have been abandoned, perhaps forever. The Fed and Treasury have together seized de facto control of the regulation of all financial institutions of significance, and nobody at either agency seems willing to believe anymore that financial markets are invariably right. In March, Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson proposed a system in which there would be one regulator (the Fed) in charge of market stability, another tasked with prudential regulation of institutions that rely on government guarantees (at the time it meant just banks and insurers, but these days it could be anybody), and another responsible for consumer protection and other "conduct of business" matters. This sounds like an improvement. But what really matters most is that any new regulatory system dispense with the perverse practice of exempting new products and institutions from the rules that apply to the tried and the true.
(See the winners and losers of the Wall Street mess here.)
(See photos of the troubled economy here.)