The Myth of the “Sub-Prime Crisis”

CAPITALISM, like the proverbial horse, kicks even when in decline. Even as the current crisis hit it, it gave an ideological kick by attributing the crisis to “sub-prime” lending; and so well-directed was its kick that the whole world ended up calling it the “sub-prime crisis”, argues Prabhat Patnaik.

The idea, bought even in progressive circles, was that in the euphoria of the boom that had preceded the crisis, financial institutions in the US had given loans even to sections of the population who were not really “credit-worthy”, i.e. who were poor and had few assets of their own.

They would normally not get loans from banks; they were not “prime borrowers”. They got loans only because the boom had lowered guards everywhere and banks had started underestimating risks. But if you give loans to people who are not “creditworthy”, who are not “true blue”, then you inevitably come to grief, which is what ultimately happened, precipitating the crisis.

Remarkably, the idea appealed not only to the Right but even to sections of the Left. Sections of the Left liked it because they read into this explanation a basic contradiction of the system: to keep the boom going the capitalist system needs to give more and more loans, and therefore to bring an ever larger number of people into the ambit of borrowing, so that the level of aggregate demand is kept suitably up. This necessarily means that “sub-prime” borrowers have to be brought in more and more for the sustenance of the boom, which therefore must eventually lead to a collapse.

The Right saw in it an opportunity to argue that the crisis arose because capitalism had become “too soft”: people who should not be touched by financial institutions with a barge-pole had actually been given huge loans. The problem therefore lay not with the system as such, since it normally would never do such silly things, but with an aberration it had suddenly got afflicted with.

Some even saw in this aberration a muddle-headed humaneness which the system had suddenly developed. And they used the crisis as an illustration of the fact that all such humaneness is fundamentally misplaced, that there is, as they had always maintained, no scope for sentiment in the harsh world of economics.

In India, apologists of neo-liberalism worked overtime to use the fact of the crisis itself to discredit policies of “social banking”, such as priority sector lending and differential interest rates, that the country had embarked on after bank nationalization. All such policies, they argued, saddle banks with the responsibility of lending to “sub-prime” borrowers, and hence put on their shoulders an unbearable burden of “non-performing assets”. This ultimately makes them unviable and in need of substantial doses of government assistance to survive, as had happened in the US and elsewhere.

The moral of the story therefore was that in countries like India the markets should be left to work in their own pitiless manner without having to accommodate sentimental hogwash like “social banking” and “financial inclusion”. Hence by a curious irony, a crisis precipitated in the advanced capitalist world by the free functioning of the markets was used in the Indian context to argue for an unleashing of the free functioning of the markets.

The basic argument about “sub-prime” lending causing the crisis however was a flawed one. The banks had given loans to the so-called “sub-prime borrowers” against the security of the houses they had bought with these loans. If the values of the houses collapsed then banks’ asset values collapsed relative to their liabilities, precipitating a financial crisis.

The cause of the crisis therefore lay not in the identity of the borrowers, the fact of their being “sub-prime”, but in the collapse of the asset values, which in turn was because asset markets in a capitalist economy are dominated by speculators whose behaviour produces asset-price bubbles that are prone to collapse.

Indeed when the banks were giving loans against houses to the so-called “sub-prime borrowers”, they too were essentially speculating in the asset markets, using the “sub-prime borrowers” only as instruments, or as mere intermediaries in the process.

To attribute the crisis to sub-prime lending therefore amounted to shifting attention from the immanent nature of the system, the fact that it is characterized by asset markets, which are intrinsically prone to being dominated by speculators whose behaviour produces asset-price bubbles that necessarily must collapse, to a mere aberration, a misjudgement on the part of the financial institutions that made them lend to the “wrong people”.

It was a deft ideological manoeuvre. The identity of the people who borrowed, whether they were in rags or drove limousines, was actually irrelevant to the cause of the crisis, but it was presented as the cause. The blame for the crisis was put falsely on “sub-prime lending”; and a fabrication, a complete myth, called the “sub-prime crisis” was sold to the world, quite successfully.

Let us for a moment imagine that no loans were made to the so-called “sub-prime” borrowers, and that all loans were made only to “prime borrowers” against the security of the houses that were purchased through such loans. True, “prime borrowers” might not have been interested in taking more loans than they already had, in order to purchase houses, and that “sub-prime” borrowers had to be brought in. But, let us, just for a moment, assume that all the loans that the banks had actually made were made to “prime borrowers” rather than “sub-prime borrowers”.

With the collapse in house prices, which had to happen sooner or later, the “prime borrowers” would have found their balance sheets going into the red, and so would the banks who gave them the loans. The borrowers would have been hard put to keep to their payments commitments, and the same denouement that unfolded with “sub-prime borrowers” would have unfolded with “prime borrowers”.

The fact that the latter owned other assets would not have made any difference; they would not have easily or voluntarily liquidated those assets to pay the banks for the housing loans (and, besides, those other asset prices too would have collapsed if the “prime borrowers” had tried to liquidate them). And if such forced liquidation was insisted upon for paying off housing debt, then there would have been prolonged court battles to prevent it; the crisis certainly would not have been averted.

Hence the real reason for the crisis lies in the collapse of the house price-bubble (which was bound to happen no matter what the identity of the borrowers), and not the identity of the borrowers themselves.

Of course it may be argued that with consumer credit the matter is entirely different, since such credit has been given to large sections of the population without any security. In other words, it may be argued that consumer credit to “sub-prime borrowers” is necessarily crisis-causing, in a sense that consumer credit to “prime borrowers” is not, since it is given without any collateral. But the consumer credit bubble has not yet busted; so it is idle to speculate on this matter.

The fact remains that with regard to the bubble that has actually busted, namely the housing bubble, the identity of the borrowers, whether they are prime borrowers or sub-prime borrowers makes little difference.

To say this is not necessarily to deny that the sustenance of boom under capitalism may require bringing more and more people under the ambit of borrowing, including the so-called “sub-prime” borrowers who normally do not have access to credit. But this is not the cause of the crisis; the bringing in of “sub-prime” borrowers, the widening of the circle of borrowers, is merely the mechanism through which speculation may get sustained.

It may determine the size of the “bubble”, but the real cause of the crisis lies in these “bubbles” themselves, i.e. in the fundamental fact that in a modern capitalist economy, where fiscal deficits are sought to be restricted, booms are necessarily “bubbles-led” or at least “bubbles-sustained”; and the inevitable collapse of these “bubbles” necessarily produces crises.

Or putting it differently, if “sub-prime” lending had not happened, then the crisis would have occurred even earlier than it did, i.e. the bubble would have collapsed even earlier. This would of course have limited the size of the collapse relative to the top of the boom, since the bubble would have burst before it became too big; but by the same token it would also have limited the size of the boom itself that preceded the collapse, so that the unemployment rate, experienced with the crisis, would not have differed much between the two situations.

A modern capitalist economy is characterized by highly-developed and highly-complex asset markets, where it is not only the physical assets themselves, but, above all, financial assets, which represent claims on physical assets, that are bought and sold. Since the carrying costs of these financial assets are extremely low (rats do not eat them up as they eat up foodgrains for instance, and they do not need godowns for storage and for protection from the elements), they are particularly prone to speculation.

Their markets tend to be dominated by speculators who buy assets not “for keeps” but for selling at the opportune moment to realize capital gains. The prices of these financial assets therefore are determined largely by the behaviour of speculators. When there is a rise in their prices for whatever reason, speculators often rush in expecting a further rise and this pushes up prices even further. This process may go on for sometime, creating a “bubble”. But when, for whatever reason, the price rise comes to a halt, speculators start running away from this asset like rats deserting a sinking ship and the “bubble” collapses.

The real point however is this: the amount of the physical asset that is produced depends upon the price of the claims upon it, i.e. of the financial assets that represent claims upon this physical asset. If the price of these claims is high, then more of such physical assets are produced, and if the price is low then less. But while the price of these claims is determined by the behaviour of the speculators, the output and employment in the real economy is determined by the amount of physical assets that are produced.

Hence in a modern capitalist economy, it is the caprices of a bunch of speculators that determines the real living conditions of millions of people, their employment and incomes. When speculators are bidding up the prices of assets (or claims upon assets) employment and output start rising and we have a boom. When speculators leave assets like rats leaving a sinking ship and wish only to hold money (and in extreme cases, when confidence in banks gets impaired, only currency), we have a crisis.

John Maynard Keynes, acutely aware of the irrationality of this system that made the lives of millions of people dependent upon the caprices of a bunch of speculators, and yet extremely keen to prevent its transcendence by socialism, sought to alter this state of affairs by advocating “socialization of investment”. This would mean that how much of physical assets were produced depended not upon the whims of speculators but upon the decisions of the State, which made these decisions with the objective of keeping the economy close to full employment.

The Keynesian remedy was tried out for nearly two decades after the second world war; and the unemployment rate in the advanced capitalist countries was indeed kept at levels that were extremely low by the historical standards of capitalism. But with the ascendancy of international finance capital, and the consequent transformation in the nature of the nation-State, whose interventions now are meant exclusively for promoting the interests of finance capital, Keynesian “demand management” recedes to the background; and we are back to a regime of booms and busts associated with the formation and collapse of “bubbles”.

 

The current crisis is not caused by any aberration on the part of financial institutions; it is immanent to a regime of finance capital.

Keynes And The The Paradox Of Capitalism

Once upon a time, economic downturns were looked on as inevitable. Or incurable. Or even a morally justified, righteous cleansing of an economy burdened by the sins of excess. One result of this thinking was the policy mistakes that contributed to the Depression. One of the few good developments to come out of this experience was perhaps the most important economic breakthrough in the 20th century: John Maynard Keynes' 1936 book, 'The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money.'

Keynes pointed out that in a downturn, an economy simultaneously has idle factories, unemployed workers and too little spending. This creates the possibility of a virtuous circle: Getting people to spend more will put the factories back to work, staffed by the previously unemployed workers. Put another way, in the short run, when the economy is operating below its potential, expanding demand can create supply.

Keynesian economics argues that private sector decisions sometimes lead to inefficient macroeconomic outcomes and therefore advocates active policy responses by the public sector, including monetary policy actions by the central bank and fiscal actions by the government to stabilise output over the business cycle.

Keynes argued that the solution to depression was to stimulate the economy (“inducement to invest”) through some combination of two approaches: a reduction in interest rates and government investment in infrastructure. Investment by government injects income, which results in more spending in the general economy, which in turn stimulates more production and investment involving still more income and spending and so forth.

The initial stimulation starts a cascade of events, whose total increase in economic activity is a multiple of the original investment. Not surprisingly, Keynesian theory is being touted as a mantra in these recessionary times when government “stimulus packages” are being hailed as the best way to save capitalism from itself.

Though bourgeois in his outlook, Keynes was a remarkably insightful economist. But even his insights could not fully comprehend the paradox that is capitalism. Indeed, our own experience belies the Keynesian optimism about the future of mankind under capitalism, writes Prabhat Patnaik in this insightful article.

In a famous essay 'Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren' (1930), Keynes had argued: “Assuming no important wars and no important increase in population, the economic problem may be solved, or be at least within sight of solution, within a hundred years. This means that the economic problem is not, if we look into the future, the permanent problem of the human race.” (emphasis in the original)

He had gone on to ask: “Why, you may ask, is this so startling? It is startling because, if instead of looking into the future, we look into the past, we find that the economic problem, the struggle for subsistence, always has been hitherto the most pressing problem of the human race… If the economic problem is solved, mankind will be deprived of its traditional purpose.” He had then proceeded to examine how mankind could fruitfully use its time in such a world.

True, after Keynes had written there has been the second world war, but thereafter mankind has had six-and-a-half decades without any “important war” of the sort that could interrupt what he had called the “era of progress and invention”. And the rate of population growth has also not accelerated to a point that can be considered to have invalidated Keynes’ premise.

And yet if we take mankind as a whole, it is as far from solving the economic problem as it ever was. True, there has been massive accumulation of capital, and with it an enormous increase in the mass of goods available to mankind; and yet, for the vast majority of mankind, the “struggle for subsistence” that Keynes had referred to has continued to remain as acute as ever, perhaps in some ways even more acute than ever before.

To say that this is only because not enough time has passed, that over a slightly longer time period Keynes’ vision will indeed turn out to be true, is facile. The fact that the bulk of mankind continues to face an acute struggle for subsistence is not a matter of degree; it is not as if the acuteness of this struggle for this segment of mankind has been lessening over time, or that the relative size of this segment has been lessening over time. We cannot therefore assert that the passage of more time will lift everybody above this struggle.

Dichotomy Structurally Inbuilt In Capitalism
Likewise, to say that while enormous increases have taken place in the mass of goods and services available to mankind (the increase in this mass being more in the last 100 years than in the previous 2000 years, as Keynes had pointed out), its distribution has been extremely skewed and hence accounts for the persistence of the struggle for subsistence for the majority of the world’s population, is to state a mere tautology.

The whole point is that there is something structural to the capitalist system itself, the same system that causes this enormous increase in mankind’s capacity to produce goods and services, which also ensures that, notwithstanding this enormous increase, the struggle for subsistence must continue to be as acute as before, or even more acute than before, for the bulk of mankind.

Keynes missed this structural aspect of capitalism. His entire argument in fact was based on the mere logic of compound interest, i.e. on the sheer fact that “if capital increases, say, 2 per cent per annum, the capital equipment of the world will have increased by a half in twenty years, and seven and a half times in a hundred years.”

From this sheer fact it follows that output too would have increased more or less by a similar order of magnitude, and mankind, with so much more of goods at its disposal, would have overcome the struggle for subsistence. The reason Keynes assumed that an increase in the mass of goods would eventually benefit everyone lies not just in his inability to see the antagonistic nature of the capitalist mode of production (and its antagonistic relationship with the surrounding universe of petty producers), but also in his belief that capitalism is a malleable system which can be moulded, in accordance with the dictates of reason, by the interventions of the State as the representative of society.

He was a liberal and saw the state as standing above, and acting on behalf of, society as a whole, in accordance with the dictates of reason. The world, he thought, was ruled by ideas; and correct, and benevolent, ideas would clearly translate themselves into reality, so that the increase in mankind’s productive capacity would get naturally transformed into an end of the economic problem.

If the antagonism of capitalism was pointed out to Keynes, he would have simply talked about state intervention restraining this antagonism to ensure that the benefit of the increase in productive capacity reached all.

The fact that this has not happened, the fact that the enormous increase in mankind’s capacity to produce has translated itself not into an end to the struggle for subsistence for the world’s population, but into a plethora of all kinds of goods and services of little benefit to it, from a stockpiling of armaments to an exploration of outer space, and even into a systematic promotion of waste, and lack of utilization, or even destruction, of productive equipment, only underscores the limitations of the liberal world outlook of which Keynes was a votary.

The State, instead of being an embodiment of reason, which intervenes in the interests of society as a whole, as liberalism believes, acts to defend the class interests of the hegemonic class, and hence to perpetuate the antagonisms of the capitalist system.

Antagonisms In Three Distinct Ways
These antagonisms perpetuate in three quite distinct ways the struggle for subsistence in which the bulk of mankind is caught. The first centres around the fact that the level of wages in the capitalist system depends upon the relative size of the reserve army of labour.

And to the extent that the relative size of the reserve army of labour never shrinks below a certain threshold level, the wage rate remains tied to the subsistence level despite significant increases in labour productivity, as necessarily occur in the “era of progress and innovation.” Work itself therefore becomes a struggle for subsistence and remains so.

Secondly, those who constitute the reserve army of labour are themselves destitute and hence condemned to an even more acute struggle for subsistence, to eke out for themselves an even more meagre magnitude of goods and services.

And thirdly, the encroachment by the capitalist mode upon the surrounding universe of petty production, whereby it displaces petty producers, grabs land from the peasants, uses the tax machinery of the State to appropriate for itself, at the expense of the petty producers, an amount of surplus value over and above what is produced within the capitalist mode itself, in short, the entire mechanism of “primitive accumulation of capital” ensures that the size of the reserve army always remains above this threshold level.

There is a stream of destitute petty producers forever flocking to work within the capitalist mode but unable to find work and hence joining the ranks of the reserve army. The antagonism within the system, and vis-à-vis the surrounding universe of petty production, thus ensures that, notwithstanding the massive increases in mankind’s productive capacity, the struggle of subsistence for the bulk of mankind continues unabated.

The growth rates of world output have been even greater in the post-war period than in Keynes’ time. The growth rates in particular capitalist countries like India have been of an order unimaginable in Keynes’ time, and yet there is no let up in the struggle for subsistence on the part of the bulk of the population even within these countries.

In India, precisely during the period of neo-liberal reforms when output growth rates have been high, there has been an increase in the proportion of the rural population accessing less than 2400 calories per person per day (the figure for 2004 is 87 per cent). This is also the period when hundreds of thousands of peasants, unable to carry on even simple reproduction have committed suicide.

The unemployment rate has increased, notwithstanding a massive jump in the rate of capital accumulation; and the real wage rate, even of the workers in the organized sector, has at best stagnated, notwithstanding massive increases in labour productivity. In short, our own experience belies the Keynesian optimism about the future of mankind under capitalism.

But Keynes wrote a long time ago. He should have seen the inner working of the system better (after all Marx who died the year Keynes was born, saw it), but perhaps his upper class Edwardian upbringing came in the way.

But what does one say of people who, having seen the destitution-“high growth” dialectics in the contemporary world, still cling to the illusion that the logic of compound interest will overcome the “economic problem of mankind”?

Neo-liberal ideologues of course propound this illusion, either in its simple version, which is the “trickle down” theory, or in the slightly more complex version, where the State is supposed to ensure through its intervention that the benefits of the growing mass of goods and services are made available to all, thereby alleviating poverty and easing the struggle for subsistence.

But this illusion often appears in an altogether unrecognizable form. Jeffrey Sachs, the economist who is well-known for his administration of the so-called shock therapy in the former Soviet Union that led to a veritable retrogression of the economy and the unleashing of massive suffering on millions of people, has come out with a book where he argues that poverty in large parts of the world is associated with adverse geographical factors, such as drought-proneness, desertification, infertile soil, and such like.

He wants global efforts to help these economies which are the victims of such niggardliness on the part of nature. The fact that enormous poverty exists in areas, where nature is not niggardly, but on the contrary bounteous; the fact that the very bounteousness of nature has formed the basis of exploitation of the producers on a massive scale, so that they are engaged in an acute struggle for existence precisely in the midst of plenitude; and hence the fact that the bulk of the world’s population continues to struggle for subsistence not because of nature’s niggardliness but because of the incubus of an exploitative social order, are all obscured by such analysis. Keynes’ faith in the miracle of compound interest would be justified in a socialist order, but not in a capitalist one.