The derivatives genie is now well out of the bottle, and these instruments
will almost certainly multiply in variety and number until some event makes
their toxicity clear....[They] are financial weapons of mass destruction,
carrying dangers that, while now latent, are potentially lethal. --
Warren Buffett, Chairman and Chief Executive, from his Letter to Shareholders,
2002 Berkshire Hathaway annual report
For years, experts had warned about the near certainty of disaster. With its
unique geography and hurricane-track locale, New Orleans was a city at risk,
and it was only a matter of when, not if, a powerful hurricane would eventually
roar ashore and overwhelm the Big Easy.
To be sure, steps were taken beforehand to try and minimize suffering and
disruption in the wake of such a catastrophe. Levees were built up and secured.
Arrangements were made to cope with the mass evacuation of hundreds of thousands.
Federal, state and local emergency preparedness officials drew up myriad plans
to mobilize people and supplies.
Nonetheless, when the event many feared finally came to pass in late August
2005, much of those efforts seemed for naught. Instead of organization there
was chaos. Instead of action, incompetence. Instead of lives saved, the focus
was on what was needlessly lost.
For all the awareness, advance planning, and available resources, the reality
was that there was little to show for it when the terrible moment of truth
arrived. As a result, it will take a long time for the people of that Gulf
Coast region, and for the country as a whole, to fully recover from the disaster
known as Hurricane Katrina.
Still, if there was one silver lining to the tragedy, it was the lesson that,
as a nation, we needed to be better prepared. Ready, in other words, for the
inevitable worst. Indeed, in a September 19, 2005, cover story, "The Next Big
One," Business Week noted as much, describing a litany of potential
disasters, from earthquakes to pandemics to "dirty-bomb" terrorist attacks,
lurking on the horizon.
Curiously though, one threat, a brewing economic hurricane, was not mentioned.
That was odd given the magazine's audience and purview. Nonetheless, it was
not a complete surprise, because the disaster that already seems to be unfolding
is one few people understand or are even aware of, let alone are prepared for.
Once full-blown, however, it is likely to wreak havoc not only in the U.S.,
but around the world.
No doubt this sounds alarmist, but there are experts who would suggest otherwise.
Indeed, such estimable giants of the financial world as Warren Buffett, legendary
investor and chairman of Berkshire Hathaway, and Bill Gross, founder and principal
of Pimco, one of the world's largest fixed-income managers, have raised serious
concerns about this growing menace.
In truth, while no one can say for certain when the day of reckoning will
arrive, it seems a good bet that if some of those who are in a position to
know are worried about the derivatives market and the associated systemic risks,
you should be, too.
One of the difficulties people have with understanding this particular disaster-in-the
making is its complexity and seeming irrelevance to their day-to-day lives.
Unlike an earthquake or a car bomb, a derivatives-inspired financial meltdown
won't to lead to leveled buildings or bloodshed, at least initially. Yet, the
toxic fallout will likely be as painful, long-lasting, and difficult to overcome
as any of the more widely discussed scenarios.
What makes the coming debacle even more difficult to comprehend is that it
stems from a long chain of seemingly benign interactions and financial relationships.
Indeed, despite the fact that the modern derivatives market has flourished
because of big money, complex technology, and highly-paid talent, the culprit
when it all goes wrong is likely to be simple: human emotions -- fear and greed
-- run amok.
For most people, the term "derivative" has little meaning. In many cases,
the mere mention of the word is enough to cause eyes to glaze over. That is
partly because these financial instruments are somewhat ethereal. They are,
in other words, largely created out of thin air. Practically speaking, they
have no value in and of themselves.
They are also hard to understand because, like many intangible concepts that
occasionally involve a great deal of theory and calculation, academics have
done wonders transforming the complex into the incomprehensible. As is often
the case, though, if you break them down into smaller, more digestible parts,
they are easier to grasp. That is also true with respect to the derivatives
market.
Look closely at how the world works, how people function and otherwise go
about their daily business. It is not hard to see that our modern existence
is, and is increasingly, about interdependence. We survive because of our ties
to each other, whether spiritual, emotional, organizational, geographical,
or genetic. We also rely on an extensive network of financial relationships
with people and institutions we know, as well as many we don't.
Moreover, all of us operate within a framework of uncertainty. Life is about
risks -- taking them, mostly -- and acting on imperfect information. Some may
claim to see the future and perhaps one day that may be proved true. For now,
most of us can only guess what will happen tomorrow, or next week, or in a
year's time.
Because we can never know for sure, we make calculations and compromises.
Like deciding whether it is better to have a bird in the hand or two in the
bush.
This usually involves agreements of one kind or another. Contracts, obligations,
promises, and responsibilities -- whether written or oral, implicit or explicit,
they are a means by which we work together with others. To secure what we want
or need, now or in the future.
And, hopefully, to protect ourselves in ways that suit us best. Buying insurance,
for example, is one way we try to alleviate some of the harmful effects of
life's inevitable misfortunes.
Derivatives are, generally speaking, contractual agreements that offer a means
for individuals or businesses to restructure or rearrange the risks they may
face in future. In many respects, they function like insurance, though with
some critical differences, as will be noted later on.
Although they are usually in written form, like most financial commitments,
that is not necessarily a prerequisite. Unless, of course, either party wants
to be able to trade, exchange, or sell these contracts. In that case, they
usually take shape as securities.
In their simplest form, derivatives provide for certain rights or obligations
between two parties, or "counterparties." Most important, the way in which
these instruments are evaluated almost always takes into account that they
are linked to some other security, commodity, event, or any of a wide variety
of agreed-upon conditions. In essence, they derive their value -- hence, "derivative" --
from something else.
In some ways, a marriage proposal has elements in common with a derivative.
In that case, a couple decides in advance to come together on a certain day
and exchange vows. They promise to live together as man and wife and assume
a host of obligations and responsibilities. Essentially, they agree now to
make a deal later.
Similarly, the purchase of an airplane ticket, or a ticket for a rock concert,
could also be viewed as a crude form of a derivative. Money is handed over
today in exchange for enabling a service to take place at some future date.
The most appropriate examples, of course, are those securities that have evolved
to form the cornerstones of the global derivatives market: futures, forwards,
options and swaps. In simple terms, they are contracts where two counterparties
agree to undertake, or to possibly undertake, a transaction or transactions
at some point in the future, based on conditions established at the outset.
In practical terms, futures and forwards are alike: both create obligations
between two parties. The main difference is that the former tend to have standardized
terms and trade on recognized exchanges. Typically, there is a designated middleman,
or "clearinghouse," which acts as the official counterparty to every transaction.
That makes it easier to transfer -- by buying and selling -- commitments between
the various market participants.
Probably the most widely known derivatives of this type are the futures contracts
that trade at places like the Chicago Board of Trade. The CBOT was originally
founded in 1848 as a centralized marketplace to help growers and others protect
against the risks and often wild price fluctuations inherent to the agriculture
industry.
The classic example of why these contacts exist describes a farmer wishing
to lock-in a price for his wheat before the actual harvest. To do this, he
might strike a deal with a baker, also keen to fix his costs. Both sides could
then take comfort in knowing that no matter what happened to prices in the
interim, they would be protected and wouldn't have to worry. Then, on the agreed
date, they would make the exchange: crops for cash.
In this arrangement, both sides end up hedging their exposure to the vagaries
of the marketplace -- which could be affected by unexpectedly high or low yields,
unusual weather, plant diseases, etc. They gain security today at the expense
of uncertainty tomorrow. In theory, they have shed at least some of the risks
they do not want in exchange for those they do. Net-net, a positive.
The real world, of course, is not so simple, and though the farmer might want
to reduce his exposure today, the baker may not have reached that same conclusion
yet. What happens then, and what markets and exchanges facilitate, is that
other parties -- speculators -- jump into the fray. Often, they are individuals
who don't have any inherent interest in agriculture or the products being traded,
other than how they can profit from fluctuations in their prices.
So, in this case, the farmer might end up fixing a price for his wheat in,
perhaps, three months time, by selling a futures contract on the CBOT, typically
through a broker. By doing so, he commits to deliver a set amount of grain,
of sufficient quality, to a location determined by the exchange. He receives
today's price in return.
In contrast, the buyer of the futures contract, who could be a trader on the
exchange floor, makes a different decision. He operates on the premise that,
at least temporarily, the farmer is wrong. If the speculator turns out to have
bet correctly, he can sell the obligation for a profit later on. Maybe even
to the baker, or to another trader, though it doesn't really matter who.
Typically, both sides put up a good faith deposit, or "margin," which represents
a small fraction of the face, or "notional" value of the contract. In theory,
this is meant to serve as protection against default. However, it also allows
both sides to assume a large commitment without having the full value of the
contract immediately on hand.
The ebb-and-flow of prices tends to be driven by the interplay between the
two groups: those who have a direct involvement in what happens -- the hedgers
-- and those who are merely betting on which way prices are headed -- the speculators.
As long as the two camps remain somewhat in balance, it serves as a useful
mechanism for divvying up risk in an efficient manner.
However, once out of whack, as appears to be the case in the derivatives market,
the potential for instability expands dramatically. History suggests the value
and relevance of a market ultimately depends on those who actually need it,
not those who only seek to profit from it.
Another other popular form of derivative is an option. Options are different
from futures and forwards in that one party has a right, rather than a firm
commitment, to initiate a transaction at some future date based on the established
terms. Typically, the option is granted by the "writer," the one who is obligated
if called upon, in exchange for a payment up front.
In a sense, these types of contracts resemble traditional insurance products.
The writer of the option is like Allstate, Prudential, GEICO or any other company
issuing a life or homeowner's policy, where the holder ends up receiving a
predetermined amount if an event takes place (e.g., a fire ravages the property)
in exchange for paying a premium or premiums beforehand.
But the terms can vary widely. So can the triggering event and the action
that may be taken. A simple example of an option might involve the owner of
a parcel of land offering a prospective buyer the right to acquire the property
at a fixed price in six months time, for a relatively small payment at the
time the deal is struck. This is usually referred to as a "call" option.
In this case, the owner, who is writing the option, is acknowledging that
he is willing to sell the property and accept the risk that the market value
might rise above the contract or "strike" price and that he can do nothing
about it. He also faces the prospect that he may still own the property after
the agreement ends. In other words, he might find himself in the same position
as when he started, though with some extra income for his troubles.
The option buyer, on the other hand, is essentially locking-in the cost of
acquiring the property by making the initial premium payment, thereby reducing
the risk resulting from market gyrations while the agreement is in effect.
There are many reasons why he might want to make that decision. Perhaps he
is hopeful, but unsure, whether he will be able to line up financing to make
the purchase.
Or maybe he believes market prices are headed higher, and wishes to have temporary
control of the property with a relatively small outlay. In this way, options
represent a form of leverage, similar in some respects to the margin on a futures
contract, where the holder can potentially receive the upside benefit without
having to pay the full cost up front.
Whatever the reason, it is up to the option holder whether he goes ahead and "exercises" the
option. Once the premium payment is made, he is generally under no further
obligation other than to come up with the money necessary to cover the specified
contract price if he wishes to acquire full ownership of the property.
Instead of the underlying asset changing hands, some agreements allow for
a payment of the difference between the strike price and the market value,
depending on whether it is higher or lower and what rights the holder has.
This "cash settlement" feature is also seen in many modern derivatives contracts,
especially those involving indexes or "events." Stock index futures are a well
known example.
Swaps are another key feature of the derivatives market. In essence, they
involve contracts where two sides agree to exchange one or more payments during
an established period based on conditions determined at the outset. Widely
used in the credit and currency markets, they enable counterparties to transform
undesirable risks or comparative advantages in one market into obligations
that, theoretically at least, better suit the needs of both.
One example of this type of agreement is an interest-rate swap. That is where,
for instance, a company with an existing loan whose rate fluctuates every six
months might arrange with, say, a bank, to eliminate that uncertainty. What
happens next is that the financial institution, for diversification or other
purpose, assumes responsibility for the varying, or floating-rate, payments,
while the borrower agrees to cover the amounts tied to a predetermined or fixed
rate of interest.
These four categories of derivatives are by no means the end of it. Indeed,
it is safe to say that there are myriad variations, a fact which has likely
laid the groundwork for the coming unraveling. Regardless, it is worth noting
that instruments such as futures, forwards, options and swaps have played an
important role in commerce and finance. In fact, individuals and businesses
have used a wide variety of risk-transfer methods for hundreds, perhaps thousands,
of years, and no doubt society as a whole has benefited.
Without having some way of gauging or laying off their exposure, people might
find it impossible, for example, to provide for their loved ones upon death
or to protect their homes and businesses from calamities such as fire. It would
also be very difficult for companies to evaluate or make sizeable investments
in large-scale or long-term ventures. Derivatives can give decision-makers
the flexibility to decide which risks to keep -- and which to try and pass
on or trade to others.
In this respect, they have proved exceptionally useful. Arguably, they have
become integral to the financial lives of almost everyone, though most people
are probably unaware of this fact. Apart from their straightforward use by
investors looking to reduce risk or profit from potential trading opportunities,
various forms of synthetically-created securities have enabled millions to
enhance their economic wellbeing and tap into the American dream.
From educating our children to buying a place to live, from the way we manage
our credit and finances, from greasing the wheels of global trade to overcoming
the dizzying array of risks and uncertainties faced by businesses large and
small, derivatives have played a major role.
One way in particular these instruments have helped is by facilitating a process
known as "securitization," whereby loans, financial instruments, and other
assets are bundled together and sold to investors as a package. This has created
tremendous economy-of-scale benefits. It has allowed individuals seeking financing
say, for the purchase of a home, to tap into a plethora of funding sources
in the U.S. and around the world, helping to lower their interest costs. It
has also enabled people to obtain products and services personalized to their
needs and risk requirements.
Many have recognized the value of synthetically-created financial instruments.
Alan Greenspan, long-time Chairman of the Federal Reserve, noted in 2003 that "The
benefits...have far exceeded their costs." He also said that the "growing array
of derivatives and the related application of more-sophisticated methods for
measuring and managing risks had been key factors underlying the remarkable
resilience of the banking system."
Nonetheless, there is a dark side. It is impossible, for instance, to discuss
derivatives without noting that these instruments, indirectly or by virtue
of their structure (e.g., options), almost invariably employ some element of
leverage (i.e., "other people's money"). Indeed, that has likely been a spur
to their increased usage among amateur and professional investors (and speculators)
alike, especially in recent years.
With difficult conditions in the wake of the post-1990s stock market bubble,
historically low interest rates, and intense competition, money managers have
increasingly sought to garner more bang for their buck by using high-octane
financial instruments such as futures, options and swaps.
This includes hedge funds, a group of operators that has come virtually out
of nowhere in the mid-1990s to aggressively oversee more than $1 trillion in
capital, often geared up with borrowed funds. With inbuilt incentives to place
riskier bets than traditional old-line managers, this crowd has discovered
that derivatives have considerable appeal. Rather than shedding risk, they
have been adding to it. Indeed, many have taken to these instruments like ducks
to water, though not always with eyes wide open.
Aside from that, because modern financial engineering involving synthetically-created
securities has, in many respects, made it easy for even the least creditworthy
individuals to borrow money for all sorts of purposes, derivatives have undoubtedly
contributed to the breathtaking, but ultimately very risky, expansion of credit
that has occurred during the past few decades.
Taken together, the combination of increased leverage and heightened risk-taking
has served to stir up a potentially volatile miasma around derivatives, especially
the newer, more complex varieties. That makes them exceptionally dangerous
if not handled properly.
Conceptually, it is not hard to grasp the basic economics of a garden-variety
derivative such as a futures contract. If the market price of wheat goes up
between the time a deal is struck and the expiration of the agreement, the
buyer wins and the seller loses. That is what is known as a zero-sum game.
Nonetheless, whatever a farmer, to use the earlier example, might give up as
a result of hedging his output is offset by the reduced uncertainty.
But it is an altogether different story when it comes to analyzing options,
or a portfolio of derivatives, especially those with lots of complicated bells
and whistles. In most cases, valuation and risk assessment depend on mathematical
formulas and computerized models, with many inputs derived from estimates and
past data. That is all well and good if the tools are perfect and the history
is complete.
Unfortunately, there is little evidence that this is the case. In truth, many
experts believe the derivatives market rests on a number of very precarious
assumptions that have yet to be tested.
And even then, the history of the derivatives market is replete with high-profile
disasters. These include the 1994 bankruptcy of Orange County, one of California's
richest, due to naïve investments in exotic derivatives; the 1995 failure
of the 200-year old Barings Bank as a result of unauthorized futures and options
trading by a rogue employee; the 1998 collapse of hedge fund Long Term Capital
Management on the heels of ultra-leveraged bets gone wrong; and, the ongoing
implosion at Fannie Mae, the nation's largest mortgage lender, because of derivative,
accounting and other irregularities.
Up until now, none of these derivative-related hurricanes has breached the
high-water levees of the U.S. and global financial systems. But as was the
case with earlier, less destructive storms in the American Gulf Coast region,
rather than decreasing the odds of a disaster, the relative calm of the past
seemed to have inspired a false sense of security.
Indeed, the fact that New Orleans had long been spared despite the inevitable
and persistent threat made for considerable complacency. As did the availability
of government-sponsored flood insurance and a belief that authorities would
step in and save the day if need be. Instead of getting prepared for the worst,
people did virtually the opposite: they boosted development in flood-prone
areas without thinking twice about it.
Likewise, many view the lack of widespread economic upheaval following earlier
derivative blow-ups as a reason to be unconcerned about the current state of
the financial system. The seemingly unprecedented intervention of the Federal
Reserve Bank of New York in the wake of the LTCM collapse, as well as central
bank "accommodation" after the 1987 stock market crash, have also inspired
confidence that authorities will not let things get too far out of hand if
and when disaster strikes.
Unfortunately, this sense of moral hazard has almost certainly increased the
risk and destructive potential of a catastrophic meltdown in the derivatives
market.
The reality is, when people erect a raft of new buildings in vulnerable locales,
it generally doesn't increase the odds that a hurricane will strike. That is
not the case with respect to risky behavior in the synthetic securities market,
however.
When big operators take on a lot more risk than they otherwise might -- they
drive faster, perhaps, because they know their car has anti-lock brakes --
it tends to raise the danger stakes for the system as a whole. Millions of
dollars of losses can break the bank at a few unlucky firms. Billion -- or
even trillion -- dollar failures can bring down the whole house of cards, especially
given the dense network of dependent relationships that exists in the global
financial arena. As well as the key role that finance-related activities now
play in today's service-oriented economy.
In addition, while an earthquake in a major city would likely cause severe
damage and untold loss of lives, it would not necessarily lead to aftershocks
3,000 miles away. In the modern world, however, the "counterparty risk" factor
seems to be zooming off the charts. What that means is that a potentially unstoppable
domino effect, a "cascade of ruin," could be set in motion if a global bank
or "bulge bracket" Wall Street firm ends up with the derivative short straw.
That potential ripple effect has as much to do with the concentration of exposure
at large players such as banks and Wall Street derivatives powerhouses as it
has to do with the abundance of overlapping ties to specific developments or
changes in asset prices. Many credit-related derivatives, for example, either
shadow or are directly linked to indexes that include the debt of certain large
borrowers. The fact that the scale of the exposure is obscured by the market's
lack of transparency adds to the potential for a sudden and unexpectedly sharp
turn for the worse.
Another point the disaster in New Orleans made clear was that having plans
in place to deal with a long-predicted event doesn't necessarily mean success
is assured. One of the biggest holes in the emergency response effort following
Hurricane Katrina was the chaos that resulted from poor communications and
overlapping jurisdictional responsibilities. Essentially, one hand -- of government
-- did not know what the other was doing, and no one was fully in charge, at
least in the beginning.
In the modern global financial system, where many participants are either
unregulated or are monitored by a patchwork of country or sector-specific regulatory
overseers, chances are that a derivatives-related catastrophe will see a similar
lack of coordination that will produce a far more devastating outcome than
if it was a purely domestic affair.
It is one thing for a central banker to summon the heads of various financial
firms into a room to sort out the mess at hedge fund LTCM, as the New York
Federal Reserve chief reportedly did in 1998. Despite the fact that the Fed
had limited statutory authority in the matter, it is not hard to see why none
of those who were asked to attend turned down the "invitation."
However, if a derivatives time-bomb is set off by the failure of a large London-based
hedge fund, will a banker in the Cayman Islands, an investor in Japan, an insurer
in Germany, and a regulator in France feel similarly inclined to respond, or
even to take the lead? That is assuming, of course, that those affected even
understand what is going on or why it may be relevant to their own interests.
Overall, there appears to be little, if any strategy in place for dealing with
cross-border financial upheaval.
What will likely make matters worse is the fact that the derivatives market
has become mind-numbingly complex and remains extremely opaque. Few individuals,
let alone regulators, have a solid handle on the aggregate picture, especially
globally. And while there is a great deal of activity that is transparent,
such as the trading that takes place on recognized venues like the CBOT or
Chicago Mercantile Exchange, the vast majority of deals are private, "over-the-counter" transactions
that go unreported.
Adding further fuel to the fire has been the liberalization and globalization
of financial markets. Because of competitive pressures and the ease with which
capital flows between firms, markets and countries, activities that used to
be limited to large firms in highly regulated sectors (e.g., banks) are being
taken on board by all and sundry. Often in locations where standards are low
or oversight is lax.
Hedge funds, insurers, corporate treasuries, the finance arms of industrial
companies, and other non-traditional players are increasingly involved in the
derivatives market. For the most part, they have less stringent capital requirements
and less of a history managing complicated financial risks and broad credit
exposure through several cycles of economic activity than banks do.
In sum, there are more inexperienced players taking part, more firms with
diverse -- and occasionally inadequate -- capabilities linked to each other,
and a maze of overlapping and often competing jurisdictions. This suggests
that a simple solution, or even a consensus, will be almost impossible to find
if and when the worst-case scenario does come to pass.
Scarier still, it is likely the disease that typically goes hand-in-hand with
disasters of the money kind will be transmitted around the world at light speed
because of modern technology and advanced communications networks. The far-reaching
epidemic that people don't usually like to discuss in mixed company, let alone
acknowledge, when the worst unexpectedly happens: panic and contagion. Throughout
history, they have been a recurring feature of convulsing markets and dramatic
financial crises.
When people are calm and otherwise thinking clearly, they tend, more often
than not, to act rationally. However, when problems arise and even the most
sophisticated players become terrified of losing their jobs or their shirts,
or they are overwhelmed by the sheer scale of potential risks they are confronted
with, they frequently experience a primal fight-or-flight response. Or even
temporary paralysis -- like the proverbial deer in the headlights.
During many of history's broad-scale financial upheavals, such as the period
surrounding the 1987 stock market crash and the collapse of Long Term Capital
Management, markets became momentarily transformed. Traders stopped buying
and selling and even answering phones. Money managers froze or reacted in knee-jerk
fashion. Bankers called in loans. And regulators, for the most part, stood
back and watched. All the while, many of those who were most heavily exposed
were forced to liquidate positions at fire-sale prices.
At those points, fear had taken over -- the kind that says "run" when someone
shouts "fire" in a crowded theater.
And, perhaps, the kind that had people shooting and looting, or wandering
aimlessly, or cowering in stifling attics above flooded rooms, when essential
services failed and the lights went out in New Orleans in the aftermath of
Hurricane Katrina.
Once troops and emergency responders moved in, and people in the surrounding
regions and elsewhere rallied round, rationality and order returned to that
Gulf Coast city. And in the weeks that followed, many of those affected did
figure out at least some way to start picking up the pieces and start living
again.
We weathered earlier storms in our financial system, too, though no doubt
the cost has often been considerable. The risk this time, however, is that
conditions are, and will be, more complicated and dangerous than before. While
New Orleans was a relatively self-contained locale, whose citizens and government
officials could potentially reach outside the area for assistance, a firestorm
set in motion by a derivatives debacle is unlikely to leave many parts of the
global financial system unscathed.
It doesn't help that there are unsustainable imbalances in the global economy,
either. America faces record trade and budget deficits. Many economically advanced
countries around the world have aging populations and underfunded pension systems.
Real estate seems to have taken the bubble baton from the stock market, though
there are signs that the top is already in. And the world is awash in debt
and a vast sea of open-ended obligations and contingent liabilities.
Moreover, if history is any guide, the period of monetary tightening that
began in June 2004 will likely blow the cover off at least some shaky operations
that had been kept alive by cheap money in the wake of the post-1990s new-era
collapse. Odds are, in fact, that one of those will be the match that lights
the fuse that ultimately triggers widespread financial turmoil.
Already there are rumbling in the financial world, akin to the small tremors
that shake the ground ahead of a massive earthquake. In the spring of 2005,
several large hedge funds reportedly lost billions of dollars on complicated
credit bets gone wrong. One firm even admitted that it had made a substantial "miscalculation" --
which they only realized, of course, after the fact. Given the increasingly
complex nature of the derivatives market, that refrain is likely to be heard
over and over again in future.
Certainly, the U.S. and global economies have been remarkably resilient, especially
in recent years, and it may be a mistake to bet on the downside. What's more,
there are those who would argue that the financial markets have attracted the
best and the brightest, and a gut-wrenching, blood-letting debacle is in no
one's interest. Unfortunately, the odds seem stacked against a happy ending,
and the cyclical nature of financial crises suggests it is definitely the wrong
time to be thinking like a Pollyanna.
Unfortunately, the reality is, if it all goes horribly wrong, it will not
only be Wall Street that suffers. Main Street will, too. In the worst case,
brokerage firms and banks will shut their doors. Markets will plunge and many
investors will lose everything, Interest rates will shoot sharply higher, taxes
will rise, and parts of the economy will grind to a halt, at least temporarily.
Those seeking a mortgage, a college education, a job, or even day-to-day sustenance
may find themselves left wanting.
At a time when many have abandoned prudence in search of profits, and where
those who are knowledgeable about the disaster-to-come in the derivatives market
are seeking to protect themselves, it is the timeless wisdom that remains true:
forewarned is forearmed.
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