Saturday, August 6, 2011

The Case for Going Global Is Stronger Than Ever

By John Mauldin

The Case for Going Global Is Stronger Than Ever
The US Markets Are Still In Trouble
Undercapitalization
Emerging Markets Still Undervalued
Global Capital Shift Is Accelerating
The Biggest Growth Will Be in the Most Obvious Places (and Sectors)
Conventional Diversification Won’t Cut It Any Longer
Risks (and there are plenty)
Maine and QE3, Operation Twist, etc.?

~~~
As will be clear below, I had finished an earlier version of this week’s e-letter, but the events of the last few minutes require a few paragraphs. As I write at the end of the letter, Bloomberg kept their satellite truck here in Maine, as they had got advance warning of the downgrade by S&P of US debt and wanted to interview a number of the economists here, including your humble analyst. I can’t rewrite the letter at this late hour, but will send you additional comments on Monday. And you can go to www.bloomberg.com and see everyone’s remarks, including mine. It will be there somewhere, they promise me.

And now, a few questions and observations are in order.

First, as I walked to the area where the Bloomberg was shooting to go on, Jim Bianco and John Silvia told me that S&P had downgraded the Fed. I laughed and said, “If you guys want to make me look like a fool on TV, you have to at least make up a credible lie.” They kept insisting it was true. I finally asked Mike McKee of Bloomberg and Barry Ritholtz, who was on-air, if it was true. They claimed it was, too. I was still wondering if they were setting me up, but even Roubini (who wouldn’t do that to me) said it was true.

So, if the Fed, which doesn’t issue credit and can print money, can be downgraded because it holds AA+ debt, then why and how in hell can the ECB, which holds hundreds of billions of euros of the junk debt of Greece and Ireland and insolvent banks not be downgraded on Monday? And the Bank of Japan? REALLY? What are these guys smoking? Do we now downgrade GNMA? Of course. And the FDIC? What the hell will repos do on market open? The NY Fed says it won’t affect anything. Don’t ask me, I just work here. And how can you rate France AAA? And still give AA or more to Italy when the market is saying they are getting close to junk?

Side bet for Monday. This could make me look like an idiot, but I think treasury yields fall as the risk-off trade increases. Can this come at a worse time for a nervous market? By the way, maybe you want to go long Kimberly Clark, as they make Depends (the adult diapers here in the US, for my non-US readers), because sales are going to skyrocket all across the financial markets.

Can we say Endgame, gentle reader? Madness. And now on to the regular letter. More to follow Monday.
__________
This week I write from Maine, where, when we landed in the float plane at Leen’s Lodge in Grand Lake Stream on Thursday, we learned that the market had closed down 512 points. I was in the plane with Nouriel Roubini and Jim Bianco (plus a Fed official to be named later), where for whatever reason we could get reception on and off (no phone works at the lodge). We were just watching the market fall. It is fun to sit next to Roubini as a market crashes. He knows ALL the market crash jokes.

So, as is my normal routine for this fishing trip to Maine, I take the week off and invite a guest columnist in. This year it is Keith Fitz-Gerald, whom I have heard speak twice and have started reading. He has lived all over the world and spends a lot of the year in Japan, and is a true expert on emerging markets. I am a fan of investing in emerging markets (as I agree they are the future) but do not consider myself anywhere close to Keith’s level of expertise. So this week we take a look at the case for emerging markets.

If you are interested in subscribing to Keith’s letter and learning more about emerging markets, you can go to https://purchases.moneymappress.com/MMRKFGSHORT4950to79/LMMRM800/. It’s fairly inexpensive and my readers get half off. Now, let’s jump in, and I will end with some closing comments.

The Case for Going Global Is Stronger Than Ever

By Keith Fitz-Gerald
 
Chief Investment Strategist, Money Map Press

If we have learned anything from the current financial mess, it’s that building wealth is dependent on rational analysis, careful decision making, and risk management. That’s why sticking close to home at a time when our markets are more uncertain than ever is a recipe for disaster and absolutely the wrong thing to do. Not only will you miss out on the world’s fastest-growing markets, but the odds are exceptionally high that you will miss as much as 50% or more in potential returns over the next decade.

Don’t get me wrong.

If you choose to “stay home” or go with what you know, which is what a lot of investors are doing right now, chances are you will probably do okay. After all, there will eventually be a U.S. economic recovery and a market rebound.
But know this.

You will have to watch others outperform you by 50%, 75%, even 100% or more – for years to come. Adding insult to injury, you’ll have to deal with the ever-present knowledge that you could have been one of them.

If you can live with this, fine … but most investors I know won’t be able to.

The U.S. Markets Are Still In Trouble

Despite widespread belief inside the Beltway that the U.S. economy is on the mend, reality is that it’s going to be a long time before U.S. markets return to normal – if there is such a thing anymore.

Our real estate markets are likely to be hobbled for a decade or longer, our consumers are badly scarred, chronic unemployment is likely to be a permanent fixture in the economic landscape for at least the next few years, and the personal deleveraging we’re seeing as most Americans pull in their horns is really still in its infancy.

Factor in the evisceration of our national wealth, the debt debacle on both sides of the Atlantic, feckless leadership, and regulators who are trying to make up lost ground for having missed the crisis in formation, and we have a real witch’s brew, the results of which cannot be understated, especially when it comes to capital markets.

Government bond markets, as I have noted many times in presentations around the world, are pricing in slow-growth to no-growth expectations, as evidenced by the 10-year notes, which have historically reflected growth-rate expectations for the so-called developed world. This is especially problematic given the debt carried by the United States and most of its colleagues.

Figure 1: Source: Bloomberg, Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis, Calamos.com

The numbers are even starker when viewed through the lense of forward-looking annual real yield on ten-year treasuries, which pencils out to a paltry 0.6%, assuming annualized inflation of 2.4% a year.

Obviously the inflation numbers are highly suspect, as is anything coming out of Washington these days, but this is what we’ve got to work with.

I find myself struck by a terrible sense of déjà vu, because the U.S. – debt deal or not – appears to be charting a course down the same troubled path Japan has trod since 1990, which is something I first noted in early 2000, based upon my first-hand experience in that nation.

Unfortunately, this path is likely to be characterized by the same problems: sovereign debt overburden that makes the Greeks look positively miserly, stagnant national wealth, and slow GDP growth despite trillions in “stimulus” that is unlikely to create any real returns whatsoever.

As bleak as this sounds, however, I also find myself salivating, because history shows that periods of great crisis are really just opportunities in disguise.

Case in point, many emerging markets are now emerging in name only. They’ve become “BEEs” or Big Emerging Economies, with superior risk-reward characteristics, newly unbridled consumer power, and – gasp – some element of adult supervision when it comes to fiscal fitness.

Not surprisingly, their bond markets are pricing in an entirely new set of expectations, 6%-9% growth, and capital markets that may exceed $300 trillion by 2025, according to proprietary research … more than 60% of which will come from outside the established players of the United States, the EU, and Japan.

At a time when we are hamstrung by our own problems, this is hard to imagine. But it’s not difficult to understand: since WWII, developed countries have contributed ever less to global growth.

It’s not that we’re falling off the map. In fact, quite the opposite is happening, and other nations are simply coming up to speed.

Figure 2: Source: PIMCO, Haver Analytics, IMF, FGRP

What’s more, many of the same emerging markets we used to regard as little more than entertaining backwater trading partners are now some of the world’s biggest foreign creditors. Virtually all have large reserves, and the importance of this development cannot be understated.
Here’s why.

In contrast to years past, when a financial crisis would have erupted into a fiscal crisis, countries like China, Brazil, and others have seen their currencies strengthen. This makes their dollar-denominated debt easier to repay, especially as a creditor, because any weakness in the currency actually improves fiscal accounts.

At the same time, being a net external creditor gives emerging-market policy makers economic flexibility that simply wasn’t possible a decade ago. As a result, many emerging economies, particularly the BEEs, can now provide a sort of countercyclical stimulus that is capable of stimulating domestic demand, even as they become less reliant on their exports. This is why China, for example, has not crashed and Brazil refuses to buckle.

According to the International Monetary Fund, worldwide official foreign exchange holdings reached $9.69 trillion in the first quarter of 2011. That’s a 17% increase year-over-year in aggregate.

As of the end of Q1 2011, total foreign exchange holdings by advanced economies were $3.16 trillion, and total foreign exchange holdings by emerging and developing economies were approximately double that, or $6.53 trillion.

If your jaw is not on the floor already, consider China. As of March 2011, China had $3.1 trillion in reserves all by itself, while the U.S. showed merely $128 billion in the proverbial piggy bank.

This means in no uncertain terms that some nations, like our own, have little or no wealth to draw upon while others could recapitalize their financial systems several times over and still have change left.

Undercapitalization Makes Emerging Economies More Efficient & Developed Economies Less Efficient

History shows that one of the single biggest drags on any economy is something I call overcapitalized infrastructure. What this means is that, dollar for dollar, there is so much money available that investments become a process of overallocation or overcapitalization. Or both.

In simple language, this means there’s simply too much money chasing too few quality opportunities, so things tend to get bid up or overcapitalized in the process – like houses, cars, credit card debt, and mortgages. All of which are, in reality, generally depreciating assets that create nothing more than the illusion of profits for very short periods of time.

Under this scenario, labor productivity generally rises but capital productivity generally falls, which is why government analysts are flying blind … they cannot tell the difference.

On the other hand, the BEEs and many emerging markets do not have such troubles. At least not yet.

If anything, they’ve got the reverse to contend with: extremely competitive labor that’s fueled by a powerful combination of ambition and generally growing capital efficiency.

What’s more, because they are starting from an incredibly low base, it doesn’t take a lot to get them moving in the right direction. Many, in fact, are able to engineer a level of capital efficiency that far outstrips our own, led most notably by China, Brazil, and India. And, thanks to millions of underemployed people in low-productivity jobs, they have a huge human reservoir from which to draw for decades to come. We don’t.

According to the McKinsey Global Institute, the average capital output worldwide by country is 253, meaning that it takes 253 dollars in capital stock to generate $100 of global GDP. A nation like China can achieve this with a GDP “investment” per capita of between $1,500-$2,500 per person, whereas the United States requires more than $40,000 and has a capital stock ratio of approximately 205%.

What this suggests is that high-GDP-per-capita nations require more money to maintain the same relative efficiency as nations with low GDP-per-capita ratios.

It’s no wonder, then, that while the West is forced to contend with a proverbial albatross around our necks that’s defined by sovereign debt and badly broken social contracts that nobody wants to relinquish, other nations are embarking on a grand runway of growth that will result in the greatest game of capital “catch-up” the world has ever seen.

Figure 3: Source: IMF, McKinsey & Co., FGRP

Emerging Markets Still Undervalued

Obviously this raises some interesting questions, especially when it comes to which markets may represent the best investment opportunities.

Here, too, the data is quite clear.

According to a July 2011 report from Investment Market Risk Metrics, US markets still appear overvalued, even though they are down substantially from other peaks over the last 131 years.

Figure 4: Source: Pension Consulting Alliance – Investment Market Risk Metrics

On the other hand, emerging markets still appear cheap. Granted they’re not at the levels we witnessed in 2008-2009 or in the early 2000s, but one can make the argument they’re undervalued even now. And therefore more worthy of investment than their Western counterparts.

Figure 5: Pension Consulting Alliance – Investment Market Risk Metrics

Global Capital Shift Is Accelerating

Against this backdrop, it’s no wonder that money is leaving the nanny states of the West and headed to the Far East, as well as to nations that are backed at least partially by natural resources. This includes portions of the Middle East and South America, too.

In perhaps the ultimate irony, our own weak dollar policies, TARP, and QE2 have actually made this capital flight worse, because they have diminished the value of the dollar. So until Washington stops jawboning and actually does something productive that makes money feel welcome here, this will continue.
Many investors think this is new, but in reality it’s just the continuation of a trend that began shortly after WWII, when approximately 75% of the world’s economic activity took place within our borders. We just don’t remember.

Today, that figure is reversed, and various sources estimate that as much as 75% of the world’s daily economic activity now takes place outside our borders.
Some chalk this up to the myth of American industrial might and superiority. In reality we won by default, because the rest of the world was quite literally in ashes and hadn’t yet taken the field.

Now, however, they’re ready to play, which is why the trend in global consumer spending looks like a ski jump, even as the United States’ share of that is in decline or at best flatlining.

Figure 6: Source: PIMCO, Credit Suisse, FGRP, IMF

As to how things will look in a few innings, what we’re dealing with is simply a numbers game, especially when it comes to consumption.

People forget, for example, that China’s middle class alone is estimated to be more than 300 million people strong. Factor in India and much of South America and you are talking about an unprecedented increase in consumerism that may ultimately involve as many as 3 out of every 5 people alive on the planet today – that’s entirely outside our borders.

The Biggest Growth Will Be in the Most Obvious Places (and Sectors)

When I look at the world of the past and the world of our future, some things jump out. Chief among them is the immediate effect that newly emerging nations will have on things the rest of us take for granted – like infrastructure and infrastructure-related holdings – which are among my top choices at the moment and have been since this crisis began.

As recently as 1970, approximately 25% of global GDP was invested in infrastructure, which is defined as fixed assets and equipment by the McKinsey Global Institute. Not surprisingly, this declined to 20% in 2010, leading many analysts to mistakenly believe that global growth was slowing.

Figure 7: Global Investment Rate as a % of GDP, Calamos.com

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

What is actually happening is that the world is being split into a two-speed economy: those countries capable of creating high-productivity capital investments and those that cannot create such things absent huge, misguided stimulus programs and bailouts.

The former are much more attractive investments, because they are characterized by growth, while the latter should generally be avoided because they will be a drag on capital for decades to come, absent a complete simultaneous fiscal reset.

Generally speaking, this suggests moving away from American-, European-, and Japanese-centric choices and into companies that favor the faster growth of emerging markets and BEEs, regardless of where they are domiciled, i.e., on the NYSE, London, or Tokyo exchanges.

Doing so will help investors capitalize on burgeoning domestic growth while at least partially isolating their portfolios from the inevitable slowdowns and stagnant capital “stock” discussed above. It’s worth noting that an increasingly large percentage of exports that were once bound for our shores are being refocused to other emerging markets, suggesting that future growth will be even less dependent on developed market stability than it is now, which is a pretty scary thought if you’re not prepared for it.

By the numbers, this too is pretty straightforward.

Unfortunately, this is where it gets tricky and where we must depart from the past when it comes to our investments.

Conventional Diversification Won’t Cut It Any Longer

For millions of investors, the very notion of diversification is appealing: to split your assets up so that no one decline will take everything down at once. Unfortunately, with everything going on now, this is like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, and about as effective.

Today’s financial markets need a concentration of assets that’s characterized by significant emphasis on creditor nations versus debtor nations. At the same time, investors who don’t want to get left far behind would be wise to fill their portfolios with companies I call the “glocals,” or big multinational firms with strong “fortress” balance sheets, experienced managers, and globally recognized brands. Technology, connectivity, and indirect resource plays all come to mind here, as do dividends, which help offset the risks we take as a part of the investing process.

I also believe that investors want to generally be long resources and commodities for the foreseeable future. Both will be great places to hang out as the West comes apart, while also providing a meaningful inflation hedge. If things don’t come apart, that’s great, because they’ll zoom higher on demand as it resumes.

And finally, I think investors who buy into the international growth that is our future will take advantage of a definite currency bias that will keep your money involved with the efficient capital countries while generally avoiding the slackers, except in very specific instances and only then with risk capital.

You can figure out pretty quickly which is which by looking at the cost of living versus value of investments. Anytime you see the former overwhelming the latter, it’s time to go, as is the case for the United States and Europe now.

Figure 8: Source: PIMCO

Risks (and there are plenty)

No discussion on emerging markets would be complete without addressing the 800-pound gorilla in the room – China. Love it or hate it, that nation is on the move.

More bluntly, China will affect every investment class on the planet for the next 100 years, which is why investors would be wise to come to terms with it. I think the decision is pretty easy, even as it is pretty graphic: the Dragon is coming to lunch on Tuesday. The only decision you have to make is whether you and your money are going to be at the table or on the menu.

The same could be said about volatility. I think it’s here to stay, particularly as our own demographic shift results in further currency debasement and inflationary pressure. You can’t just wish away $202 trillion in unfunded liabilities, despite what those in our capital might think.

No matter which way you cut it, it’s very simple, as I see it: the West (including Japan) faces severe structural imbalances that, when combined with limited willingness to deal with meaningful austerity, will hold it back for many years – which is why I’d rather go with growth any day.

In closing, I want to leave you with one more thought.

Even though we have talked extensively about why the case for emerging markets is stronger than ever, I am not a big fan of abandoning the U.S., which is what some of my colleagues advocate.

The United States is a nation filled with resilient, clever people; and despite the fact that the chips are down, I wouldn’t bet against it.

We will find our way through this mess, even though the path we must take isn’t clearly defined nor brightly lit … yet.

Best regards for great investing,

Keith Fitz-Gerald

Maine and QE3, Operation Twist, etc.?

I close from Maine, where the Bloomberg truck was just told to stay, because evidently there is about to be something announced that is going to be huge (it is characterized as an embargoed story, whatever that is). And they have all these economist types in one place for comment. It really is an all-star line-up in one place. Go figure. It is 6 pm, and I have no idea. Maybe I’ll write a last-minute note. Wait: Latest rumor: a government official tells ABC News that the federal government is expecting and preparing for the bond rating agency Standard & Poor’s to downgrade the rating of US debt from its current AAA value. That should make for interesting dinner discussion!

This has been a very interesting time to talk economics late at night. Some VERY serious economists are talking QE3 and another version of Operation Twist (circa 1948, where the Fed fixed long bond rates) next year as we roll into recession. Others think the Fed has to do nothing. I am sitting and learning and maybe throwing in an opinion or two. I will report back next week.

Today my youngest son Trey and I went fishing. That is, fishing as opposed to catching anything. One bass apiece. But the talk at lunch was good and the banter friendly. We fly back on Monday. This is my 6th year to come with Trey, and it is our favorite week of the year.

Your hoping to be catching tomorrow analyst,

John Mauldin

See the original article >>

(Reuters) - China bluntly criticized the United States on Saturday one day after the superpower's credit rating was downgraded, saying the "good old days" of borrowing were over.

Standard & Poor's cut the U.S. long-term credit rating from top-tier AAA by a notch to AA-plus on Friday over concerns about the nation's budget deficits and climbing debt burden.

China -- the United States' biggest creditor -- said Washington only had itself to blame for its plight and called for a new stable global reserve currency.

"The U.S. government has to come to terms with the painful fact that the good old days when it could just borrow its way out of messes of its own making are finally gone," China's official Xinhua news agency said in a commentary.

After a week which saw $2.5 trillion wiped off global markets, the move deepened investors' concerns of an impending recession in the United States and over the euro zone crisis.

Finance ministers and central bankers of the Group of Seven major industrialized nations will confer by telephone later on Saturday or on Sunday, a senior European diplomatic source said.

The source said the credit rating downgrade had added a global dimension on top of the euro zone debt issue, raising the need for international coordination.

"The G7 will confer by telephone. It's not yet confirmed whether it will be in one stage or in two stages, tonight and tomorrow," the source said.

French Finance Minister Francois Baroin, who would chair such a meeting under France's G7 and G20 presidency, said it was too early to say whether there would be an early G7 gathering.

In the Xinhua commentary, China scorned the United States for its "debt addiction" and "short sighted" political wrangling.

"China, the largest creditor of the world's sole superpower, has every right now to demand the United States address its structural debt problems and ensure the safety of China's dollar assets," it said.

It urged the United States to cut military and social welfare expenditure. Further credit downgrades would very likely undermine the world economic recovery and trigger new rounds of financial turmoil, it said.

"International supervision over the issue of U.S. dollars should be introduced and a new, stable and secured global reserve currency may also be an option to avert a catastrophe caused by any single country," Xinhua said.

In Washington, President Barack Obama urged lawmakers on Saturday to set aside partisan politics after the debt battle, saying they must work to put the United States' fiscal house in order and refocus on stimulating its stagnant economy.

S&P blamed the downgrade in part on the political gridlock in Washington, saying politics was preventing the United States from addressing its deficit and debt problems.

Obama called on Congress to back measures to give tax relief to the middle class, extend jobless benefits and pass long-delayed international trade pacts.

"Both parties are going to have to work together on a larger plan to get our nation's finances in order," he said.

"In the long term, the health of our economy depends on it...in the short term, our urgent mission has to be getting this economy growing faster and creating jobs."
STAY COOL

In contrast to the Chinese criticism, France's Baroin said France had faith in the United States' ability to get out of this "difficult period."

Friday's U.S. unemployment numbers were better than expected and so things were heading in the right direction, he said.

"Therefore, one should not dramatise, one needs to remain cool-headed, one should look at the fundamentals," he told France's iTele.

While the impact of the rating cut on financial markets when they reopen on Monday may be modest because the decision was expected, the shift may have a long-term impact for U.S. standing in the world, the dollar's status, and the global financial system.

"I think even if it was half-expected, the consequence will be far reaching," said Ciaran O'Hagan, fixed income strategist at Societe Generale in Paris.

"It will weigh on secure assets. The bigger reaction will be on risky assets, including equities and on agencies (Freddie Mac, Fannie Mae) and states backed directly by the federal government."

But he added: "U.S. Treasuries will remain a benchmark. This is a ship which takes a long time to turn around."

Norbert Barthle, a budget expert for German Chancellor Angela Merkel's conservatives said the downgrade would certainly provoke further turbulence in markets.

"I'm not surprised about the U.S. rating downgrade, rather I am astonished that for weeks, international rating agencies have focused their attention on the European debt situation but not the American one. For a while, there have been clear worries about America's economic woes but also the fact the U.S. is heavily indebted."

NO EARLY ITALIAN ELECTION

In Europe, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi on Saturday ruled out calling early elections to stem market panic that has pounded Italian assets and forced his government to bring forward austerity measures.

Italy buckled on Friday to world pressure by pledging to bring forward cuts to balance the budget in 2013 in return for European Central Bank help with funding.

European policy makers are concerned that a debt emergency in the euro zone's third largest economy could completely overwhelm bailout mechanisms set up to help smaller troubled countries like Greece or Ireland.

Italy is due to go to the polls in 2013 but Berlusconi dismissed any suggestion of emulating Spain, where Prime Minister Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero has called an early election to tackle the crisis.

"This has absolutely not been talked about," Berlusconi told reporters. "This has never been an option."

The European Union's top economic official praised Italy's decision to accelerate budget-balancing measures and structural economic reforms and said swift implementation was now crucial.

"I strongly support this announcement and call on the authorities to quickly translate it into concrete measures," European Economic and Monetary Affairs Commissioner Olli Rehn told Reuters in a telephone interview.

"This will help to boost potential growth, secure budgetary retrenchment and bolster market confidence," Rehn said.

The European Central Bank sources said the bank remains divided over whether to buy Italian government bonds but even some of those who favor the move say Italy should do more to front-load austerity measures.

Two sources said they expected ECB President Jean-Claude Trichet to hold a teleconference of the bank's policy-setting Governing Council over the weekend to discuss how to respond to turmoil in financial markets and Italy's latest measures.

China and Japan have called for coordinated action to avert a new worldwide financial crisis. India's finance minister Pranab Mukherjee told reporters: "There is no need to unnecessarily press the panic button."

See the original article >>

S&P Downgrades U.S. to AA+: So What?


Late Friday evening, S&P downgraded the U.S.’s long-term debt rating to AA+ with a negative outlook. If that downgrade has no economic impact, it will fade from the headlines. And that is the most likely scenario.

The downgrade should come as no surprise. On July 25, The Daily Beast quoted me as saying that a downgrade was “inevitable.” And since I am not on Wall Street, I am confident that I was among the last to come to that conclusion.

After all, S&P was telegraphing that it would downgrade the U.S. for weeks when it said it would do so unless it saw a plan to cut the deficit by $4 trillion. Late last month it became quite clear that there would be no plan that big. So investors’ only uncertainty regarding S&P was whether it would follow through on its threat — and it did so, albeit a week later than anticipated.

Behind S&P’s downgrade is an economic model of the U.S.’s fiscal state over the next decade. That S&P model uses a Congressional Budget Office projection of $2.1 trillion in budget reductions over 10 years from the recently passed debt ceiling deal to forecast a rise in the U.S.’s net general government debt-to-GDP ratio.

The U.S.’s ratio is forecast to rise above those of governments that are retaining their AAA rating. Specifically, S&P forecasts that the U.S.’s debt-to-GDP ratio will increase steadily from 74% (2011) to 79% in 2015 and 85% by 2021.

Interestingly, AAA-rated governments — including Canada, France, Germany, and the U.K. — do better than the U.S. in some cases and worse in others. For example, Canada is the world’s healthiest AAA-rated government with debt-to-GDP of 34% in 2011 and 30% in 2015. But the U.K. is worse off than the U.S. in 2011 (80%) and France, with 83% is worse off in 2015.

The difference in S&P’s view between the U.S. and the U.K. and France is that it forecasts that our debt-to-GDP ratio will keep going up by 2021 whereas their ratios will start to go down by 2021.

Wall Street operates on the gap between expectations and reality. And S&P’s decision should come as no surprise. The only question is whether any institutions will be required by their charters to sell U.S. treasury securities now that S&P no longer rates them AAA.

Some public pension funds and mutual funds may be required to sell U.S. treasuries. My guess is that will amount to sales of 3% of their combined U.S. treasury holdings — assuming that those funds did not sell them in anticipation of S&P’s move. For most investors, an S&P rating is not the critical factor in their investment decisions.

Meanwhile, assuming S&P’s move had been anticipated by the markets, one would expect to see higher interest rates in the U.S. and lower interest rates in the AAA-rated countries. That’s because prudent investors would be dumping U.S. securities and buying securities in AAA-rated Canada, France, Germany, and the U.K.

As it turns out, that is not quite what happened. Instead, rates tumbled in the U.S. and in all the other countries and the U.S. ended last week with the third-lowest 10 year bond yield of its peers — just slightly higher than those of the world’s healthiest AAA-rated country, Canada.

Here are the sizes in trillions of dollars of the five countries’ marketable treasury securities markets along with changes to their 10-year treasury yields between July 1 and August 5:
Not surprisingly, big investors who set these rates are coming to a different conclusion than S&P. The U.S. treasury market is over four times bigger than Germany’s. And for investors like China — that own $1.1 trillion in U.S. treasuries – that superior size offers a comforting level of liquidity.

For all the joy that some take in S&P’s decision to downgrade the U.S., global investors passed their verdict on the U.S. before S&P’s late night press release — by lending the U.S. money for 10 years at a 19% lower rate than they did a month ago.

It remains to be seen whether all the weekend huffing and puffing will change that.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

The food bubble: How Wall Street starved millions and got away with it

By Frederick Kaufman

The history of food took an ominous turn in 1991, at a time when no one was paying much attention. That was the year Goldman Sachs decided our daily bread might make an excellent investment.

Agriculture, rooted as it is in the rhythms of reaping and sowing, had not traditionally engaged the attention of Wall Street bankers, whose riches did not come from the sale of real things like wheat or bread but from the manipulation of ethereal concepts like risk and collateralized debt. But in 1991 nearly everything else that could be recast as a financial abstraction had already been considered. Food was pretty much all that was left. And so with accustomed care and precision, Goldman’s analysts went about transforming food into a concept. They selected eighteen commodifiable ingredients and contrived a financial elixir that included cattle, coffee, cocoa, corn, hogs, and a variety or two of wheat. They weighted the investment value of each element, blended and commingled the parts into sums, then reduced what had been a complicated collection of real things into a mathematical formula that could be expressed as a single manifestation, to be known thenceforward as the Goldman Sachs Commodity Index. Then they began to offer shares.

As was usually the case, Goldman’s product flourished. The prices of cattle, coffee, cocoa, corn, and wheat began to rise, slowly at first, and then rapidly. And as more people sank money into Goldman’s food index, other bankers took note and created their own food indexes for their own clients. Investors were delighted to see the value of their venture increase, but the rising price of breakfast, lunch, and dinner did not align with the interests of those of us who eat. And so the commodity index funds began to cause problems.

Wheat was a case in point. North America, the Saudi Arabia of cereal, sends nearly half its wheat production overseas, and an obscure syndicate known as the Minneapolis Grain Exchange remains the supreme price-setter for the continent’s most widely exported wheat, a high-protein variety called hard red spring. Other varieties of wheat make cake and cookies, but only hard red spring makes bread. Its price informs the cost of virtually every loaf on earth.

As far as most people who eat bread were concerned, the Minneapolis Grain Exchange had done a pretty good job: for more than a century the real price of wheat had steadily declined. Then, in 2005, that price began to rise, along with the prices of rice and corn and soy and oats and cooking oil. Hard red spring had long traded between $3 and $6 per sixty-pound bushel, but for three years Minneapolis wheat broke record after record as its price doubled and then doubled again. No one was surprised when in the first quarter of 2008 transnational wheat giant Cargill attributed its 86 percent jump in annual profits to commodity trading. And no one was surprised when packaged-food maker ConAgra sold its trading arm to a hedge fund for $2.8 billion. Nor when The Economist announced that the real price of food had reached its highest level since 1845, the year the magazine first calculated the number.

Nothing had changed about the wheat, but something had changed about the wheat market. Since Goldman’s innovation, hundreds of billions of new dollars had overwhelmed the actual supply of and actual demand for wheat, and rumors began to emerge that someone, somewhere, had cornered the market. Robber barons, gold bugs, and financiers of every stripe had long dreamed of controlling all of something everybody needed or desired, then holding back the supply as demand drove up prices. But there was plenty of real wheat, and American farmers were delivering it as fast as they always had, if not even a bit faster. It was as if the price itself had begun to generate its own demand—the more hard red spring cost, the more investors wanted to pay for it.

“It’s absolutely mind-boggling,” one grain trader told the Wall Street Journal. “You don’t ever want to trade wheat again,” another told the Chicago Tribune.
 
“We have never seen anything like this before,” Jeff Voge, chairman of the Kansas City Board of Trade, told the Washington Post. “This isn’t just any commodity,” continued Voge. “It is food, and people need to eat.”
The global speculative frenzy sparked riots in more than thirty countries and drove the number of the world’s “food insecure” to more than a billion. In 2008, for the first time since such statistics have been kept, the proportion of the world’s population without enough to eat ratcheted upward. The ranks of the hungry had increased by 250 million in a single year, the most abysmal increase in all of human history.

Then, like all speculative bubbles, the food bubble popped. By late 2008, the price of Minneapolis hard red spring had toppled back to normal levels, and trading volume quickly followed. Of course, the prices world consumers pay for food have not come down so fast, as manufacturers and retailers continue to make up for their own heavy losses.

The gratuitous damage of the food bubble struck me as not merely a disgrace but a disgrace that might easily be repeated. And so I traveled to Minneapolis—where the reality of hard red spring and the price of hard red spring first went their separate ways—to discover how such a thing could have happened, and if and when it would happen again.

The name of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange may conjure images of an immense concrete silo towering over the prairie, but the exchange is in fact a rather severe neoclassical steel-frame building that shares the downtown corner of Fourth Street and Fourth Avenue with City Hall, the courthouse, and the jail. I walked through its vestibule of granite and Italian marble, past renderings of wheat molded into the terra-cotta cartouches, and as I waited for the wheat-embossed elevator I tried not to gawk at the gold-plated mail chute. For more than a century, the trading floor of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange had been the place where wheat acquired a price, but as I stepped out of the elevator the opening bell tolled and echoed across a vast, silent, and chilly chamber. The place was abandoned, the phones ripped out of the walls, the octagonal grain pits littered with snakes of tangled wire.

I wandered across the wooden planks of the old pits, scarred by the boots of countless grain traders, and I peered into the dark and narrow recesses of the phone booths where those traders had scribbled down their orders. Beyond the booths loomed the massive cash-grain tables, starkly illuminated by rays of sunlight. In the old days, when brokers and traders looked into one another’s faces, not computer screens, they liked to examine the grain before they bought it.

Now an electronic board began to populate with green, red, and yellow numbers that told the price of barley, canola, cattle, coffee, copper, cotton, gold, hogs, lumber, milk, oats, oil, platinum, rice, and silver. Beneath them shimmered the indices: the Dow, the S&P 500, and, at the very bottom, the Goldman Sachs Commodity Index. Even the video technology was quaint, a relic from the Carter years, when trade with the Soviet Union was the final frontier, long before that moment in 2008 when the chief executive officer of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange, Mark Bagan, decided that the future of wheat was not on a table in Minneapolis but within the digital infinitude of the Internet.

As a courtesy to the speculators who for decades had spent their workdays executing trades in the grain pits, the exchange had set up a new space a few stories above the old trading floor, a gray-carpeted room in which a few dozen beige cubicles were available to rent, some featuring a view of a parking lot. I had expected shouting, panic, confusion, and chaos, but no more than half the cubicles were occupied, and the room was silent. One of the grain traders was reading his email, another checking ESPN for the weekend scores, another playing solitaire, another shopping on eBay for antique Japanese vases.

“We’re trading wheat, but it’s wheat we’re never going to see,” Austin Damiani, a twenty-eight-year-old wheat broker, would tell me later that afternoon. “It’s a cerebral experience.”

Today’s action consisted of a gray-haired man padding from cubicle to cubicle, greeting colleagues, sucking hard candy. The veteran eventually ambled off to a corner, to a battered cash-grain table that had been moved up from the old trading floor. A dozen aluminum pans sat on the table, each holding a different sample of grain. The old man brought a pan to his face and took a deep breath. Then he held a single grain in his palm, turned it over, and found the crease.

“The crease will tell you the variety,” he told me. “That’s a lost art.”
His name was Mike Mullin, he had been trading wheat for fifty years, and he was the first Minneapolis wheat trader I had seen touch a grain of the stuff. Back in the day, buyers and sellers might have spent hours insulting, cajoling, bullying, and pleading with one another across this table—anything to get the right price for hard red spring—but Mullin was not buying real wheat today, nor was anybody here selling it.

Above us, three monitors flickered prices from America’s primary grain exchanges: Chicago, Kansas City, and Minneapolis. Such geographic specificities struck me as archaic, but there remain essential differences among these wheat markets, vestiges of old-fashioned concerns such as latitude and proximity to the Erie Canal.
 
Mullin stared at the screens and asked me what I knew about wheat futures, and I told him that whereas Minneapolis traded the contract in hard red spring, Kansas City traded in hard red winter and Chicago in soft red winter, both of which have a lower protein content than Minneapolis wheat, are less expensive, and are more likely to be incorporated into a brownie mix than into a baguette. High protein content makes Minneapolis wheat elite, I told Mullin.

He nodded his head, and we stood in silence and watched the desultory movement of corn and soy, soft red winter and hard red spring. It was a slow trading day even if commodities, as Mullin told me, were overpriced 10 percent across the board. Mullin figured he knew the real worth of a bushel and had bet the price would soon head south. “Am I short?” he asked. “Yes I am.”

I asked him what he knew about the commodity indexes, like the one Goldman Sachs created in 1991.
“It’s a brainless entity,” Mullin said. His eyes did not move from the screen. “You look at a chart. You hit a number. You buy.”

Grain trading was not always brainless. Joseph parsed Pharaoh’s dream of cattle and crops, discerned that drought loomed, and diligently went about storing immense amounts of grain. By the time famine descended, Joseph had cornered the market—an accomplishment that brought nations to their knees and made Joseph an extremely rich man.

In 1730, enlightened bureaucrats of Japan’s Edo shogunate perceived that a stable rice price would protect those who produced their country’s sacred grain. Up to that time, all the farmers in Japan would bring their rice to market after the September harvest, at which point warehouses would overflow, prices would plummet, and, for all their hard work, Japan’s rice farmers would remain impoverished. Instead of suffering through the Osaka market’s perennial volatility, the bureaucrats preferred to set a price that would ensure a living for farmers, grain warehousemen, the samurai (who were paid in rice), and the general population—a price not at the mercy of the annual cycle of scarcity and plenty but a smooth line, gently fluctuating within a reasonable range.

While Japan had relied on the authority of the government to avoid deadly volatility, the United States trusted in free enterprise. After the combined credit crunch, real estate wreck, and stock-market meltdown now known as the Panic of 1857, U.S. grain merchants conceived a new stabilizing force: In return for a cash commitment today, farmers would sign a forward contract to deliver grain a few months down the line, on the expiration date of the contract. Since buyers could never be certain what the price of wheat would be on the date of delivery, the price of a future bushel of wheat was usually a few cents less than that of a present bushel of wheat. And while farmers had to accept less for future wheat than for real and present wheat, the guaranteed future sale protected them from plummeting prices and enabled them to use the promised payment as, say, collateral for a bank loan. These contracts let both producers and consumers hedge their risks, and in so doing reduced volatility.

But the forward contract was a primitive financial tool, and when demand for wheat exploded after the Civil War, and ever more grain merchants took to reselling and trading these agreements on a fast-growing secondary market, it became impossible to figure out who owed whom what and when. At which point the great grain merchants of Chicago, Kansas City, and Minneapolis set about creating a new kind of institution less like a medieval county fair and more like a modern clearinghouse. In place of myriad individually negotiated and fulfilled forward contracts, the merchants established exchanges that would regulate both the quality of grain and the expiration dates of all forward contracts—eventually limiting those dates to five each year, in March, May, July, September, and December. Whereas under the old system each buyer and each seller vetted whoever might stand at the opposite end of each deal, the grain exchange now served as the counterparty for everyone.

The exchanges soon attracted a new species of merchant interested in numbers, not grain. This was the speculator. As the price of futures contracts fluctuated in daily trading, the speculator sought to cash in through strategic buying and selling. And since the speculator had neither real wheat to sell nor a place to store any he might purchase, for every “long” position he took (a promise to buy future wheat), he would eventually need to place an equal and opposite “short” position (a promise to sell). Farmers and millers welcomed the speculator to their market, for his perpetual stream of buy and sell orders gave them the freedom to sell and buy their actual wheat just as they pleased.

Under the new system, farmers and millers could hedge, speculators could speculate, the market remained liquid, and yet the speculative futures price could never move too far from the “spot” (or actual) price: every ten weeks or so, when the delivery date of the contract approached, the two prices would converge, as everyone who had not cleared his position with an equal and opposite position would be obligated to do just that. The virtuality of wheat futures would settle up with the reality of cash wheat, and then, as the contract expired, the price of an ideal bushel would be “discovered” by hedger and speculator alike.

No less an economist than John Maynard Keynes applied himself to studying this miraculous interplay of supply and demand, buyers and sellers, real wheat and virtual wheat, and he gave the standard futures-pricing model its own special name. He called it “normal backwardation,” because in a normal market for real goods, he found, futures prices (for things that did not yet exist) generally stayed in back of spot prices (for things that actually existed).

Normal backwardation created the occasion for so many people to make so much money in so many ways that numerous other futures exchanges soon emerged, featuring contracts for everything from butter, cottonseed oil, and hay to plywood, poultry, and cat pelts. Speculators traded molasses futures on the New York Coffee and Sugar Exchange, and if they lost their shirts they could head over to the New York Burlap and Jute Exchange or the New York Hide Exchange. And despite the occasional market collapse (onions in 1957, Maine potatoes in 1976), for more than a century the basic strategy and tactics of futures trading remained the same, the price of wheat remained stable, and increasing numbers of people had plenty to eat.
The decline of volatility, good news for the rest of us, drove bankers up the wall. I put in a call to Steven Rothbart, who traded commodities for Cargill way back in the 1980s. I asked him what he knew about the birth of commodity index funds, and he began to laugh. “Commodities had died,” he told me. “We sat there every day and the market wouldn’t move. People left. They couldn’t make a living anymore.”

Clearly, some innovation was in order. In the midst of this dead market, Goldman Sachs envisioned a new form of commodities investment, a product for investors who had no taste for the complexities of corn or soy or wheat, no interest in weather and weevils, and no desire for getting into and out of shorts and longs—investors who wanted nothing more than to park a great deal of money somewhere, then sit back and watch that pile grow. The managers of this new product would acquire and hold long positions, and nothing but long positions, on a range of commodities futures. They would not hedge their futures with the actual sale or purchase of real wheat (like a bona-fide hedger), nor would they cover their positions by buying low and selling high (in the grand old fashion of commodities speculators). In fact, the structure of commodity index funds ran counter to our normal understanding of economic theory, requiring that index-fund managers not buy low and sell high but buy at any price and keep buying at any price. No matter what lofty highs long wheat futures might attain, the managers would transfer their long positions into the next long futures contract, due to expire a few months later, and repeat the roll when that contract, in turn, was about to expire—thus accumulating an everlasting, ever-growing long position, unremittingly regenerated.

“You’ve got to be out of your freaking mind to be long only,” Rothbart said. “Commodities are the riskiest things in the world.”

But Goldman had its own way to offset the risks of commodities trading—if not for their clients, then at least for themselves. The strategy, standard practice for most index funds, relied on “replication,” which meant that for every dollar a client invested in the index fund, Goldman would buy a dollar’s worth of the underlying commodities futures (minus management fees). Of course, in order to purchase commodities futures, the bankers had only to make a “good-faith deposit” of something like 5 percent. Which meant that they could stash the other 95 percent of their investors’ money in a pool of Treasury bills, or some other equally innocuous financial cranny, which they could subsequently leverage into ever greater amounts of capital to utilize to their own ends, whatever they might be. If the price of wheat went up, Goldman made money. And if the price of wheat fell, Goldman still made money—not only from management fees, but from the profits the bank pulled down by investing 95 percent of its clients’ money in less risky ventures. Goldman even made money from the roll into each new long contract, every instance of which required clients to pay a new set of transaction costs.

The bankers had figured out how to extract profit from the commodities market without taking on any of the risks they themselves had introduced by flooding that same market with long orders. Unlike the wheat producers and the wheat speculators, or even Goldman’s own customers, Goldman had no vested interest in a stable commodities market. As one index trader told me, “Commodity funds have historically made money—and kept most of it for themselves.”

No surprise, then, that other banks soon recognized the rightness of this approach. In 1994, J.P. Morgan established its own commodity index fund, and soon thereafter other players entered the scene, including the AIG Commodity Index and the Chase Physical Commodity Index, along with initial offerings from Bear Stearns, Oppenheimer, and Pimco. Barclays joined the group with eight index funds and, in just over a year, raised close to $3 billion.

Government regulators, far from preventing this strange new way of accumulating futures, actively encouraged it. Congress had in 1936 created a commission that curbed “excessive speculation” by limiting large holdings of futures contracts to bona-fide hedgers. Years later, the modern-day Commodity Futures Trading Commission continued to set absolute limits on the amount of wheat-futures contracts that could be held by speculators. In 1991, that limit was 5,000 contracts. But after the invention of the commodity index fund, bankers convinced the commission that they, too, were bona-fide hedgers. As a result, the commission issued a position-limit exemption to six commodity index traders, and within a decade those funds would be permitted to hold as many as 130,000 wheat-futures contracts at any one time.
 
“We have not seen U.S. agriculture rely this much on the market for almost seventy years,” was how Joseph Dial, the head of the commission, assessed his agency’s regulatory handiwork in 1997. “This paradigm shift in the government’s farm policy has created a new era for agriculture.”

Goldman and all the other banks that followed them into commodity index funds had figured out how to safeguard themselves, but there was a lot more money to be made if the banks could somehow convince everyone else that an inherently risky product designed to protect the banks—and only the banks—was in fact also safe for investors.
 
Good news came on February 28, 2005, when Gary Gorton, of the University of Pennsylvania, and K. Geert Rouwenhorst, of the Yale School of Management, published a working paper called “Facts and Fantasies About Commodities Futures.” In forty graph-and-equation-filled pages, the authors demonstrated that between 1959 and 2004, a hypothetical investment in a broad range of commodities—such as an index—would have been no more risky than an investment in a broad range of stocks. What’s more, commodities showed a negative correlation with equities and a positive correlation with inflation. Food was always a good investment, and even better in bad times. Money managers could hardly wait to spread the news.

“Since this discovery,” reported the Financial Times, investors had become attracted to commodities “in the hope that returns will differ from equities and bonds and be strong in case of inflation.” Another study noted as well that commodity index funds offered “an inherent or natural return that is not conditioned on skill.” And so the long-awaited legion of new investors began buying into commodity index funds, and the food bubble truly began to inflate.

A few years after “Facts and Fantasies” appeared, and almost as if to prove Gorton and Rouwenhorst’s point, the financial crisis hit mortgage, credit, and real estate markets—and, just as the scholars had predicted, those who had invested in commodities prospered. Money managers had to decide where to park what remained of their endowment, hedge, and pension funds, and the bankers were ready with something that looked very safe: in 2003, commodity index holdings amounted to a not particularly awe-inspiring $13 billion, but by 2008, $317 billion had poured into the funds. As long as the commodities brokers kept rolling over their futures, it looked as though the day of reckoning might never come. If no one contemplated the effects that this accumulation of long-only futures would eventually have on grain markets, perhaps it was because no one had never seen such a massive pile of long-only futures.
 
From one perspective, a complicated chain of cause and effect had inflated the food bubble. But there were those who understood what was happening to the wheat markets in simpler terms. “I don’t have to pay anybody for anything, basically,” one long-only indexer told me. “That’s the beauty of it.”

Mark Bagan, CEO of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange, invited me to his office for a talk. A self-proclaimed “grain brat,” Bagan grew up among bales, combines, and concrete silos all across the United States before attending Minnesota State to play football. As I settled into his oversize couch, admired his neatly tailored pinstriped suit, and listened to his soft voice, it occurred to me that if the grain markets were a casino, Mark Bagan was the biggest bookie. Without him, there could be no bets on hard red spring.
“From our perspective, we’re price neutral, value neutral,” Bagan said.
 
I asked him about the commodity index funds and whether they had transformed the traditional wheat market into something wholly speculative, artificial, and hidden. Why did anyone except bankers even need this new market?

“There are plenty of markets out there that have yet to be thought of and will be very successful,” Bagan said. Then he veered into the intricacies of running a commodities exchange. “With our old system, we could clear forty-eight products,” he said. “Now we can have more than fifty thousand products traded. It’s a big number, building derivatives on top of derivatives, but we’ve got to be prepared for that: the financial world is evolving so quickly, there will always be a need for new risk-management products.”

Bagan had not answered my question about the funds, so I asked again, as directly as I could: What did he make of the fact that speculation in commodity index funds had caused a global run on hard red spring?
Bagan slowly shook his head, as though he were an elementary-school teacher trying to explain a basic concept—subtraction? ice?—to a particularly dense child. The Goldman Sachs Commodity Index did not include a single hard red spring future, he told me. Minneapolis wheat may have set records in 2008 and led global food prices into the stratosphere, but it had nothing to do with Goldman’s fund. There just wasn’t enough speculation in the hard red spring market to satisfy the bankers. Not enough liquidity. Bagan smiled. Was there anything else I wanted to know?

Plenty, but there was nothing more Bagan was about to disclose. As I left the office, I remembered the rumors I’d heard at a grain-crisis conference in Washington, D.C., a few months earlier. Between interminable speeches about price ceilings and grain reserves, more than one wheat expert had confided, strictly on background, that at the height of the bubble, Minneapolis wheat had been cornered. No one could say whether the culprit had been Cargill or the Canadian Wheat Board or any other party, but the consensus was that as the world had cried for food, someone, somewhere, had been hoarding wheat.

Imaginary wheat bought anywhere affects real wheat bought everywhere. But as it turned out, index traders had purchased the majority of their long wheat futures on the oldest and largest grain clearinghouse in America, the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. And so I found myself pushing through the frigid blasts of the LaSalle Street canyon. If I could figure out precisely how and when wheat futures traded in Chicago had driven up the price of actual wheat in Minneapolis, I would know why a billion people on the planet could not afford bread.

The man who had agreed to escort me to the floor of the exchange traded grain for a transnational corporation, and he told me several times that he could not talk to the press, and that if I were to mention his name in print he would lose his job. So I will call him Mr. Silver.

In the basement cafeteria of the exchange I bought Mr. Silver a breakfast of bacon and eggs and asked whether he could explain how index funds that held long-only Chicago soft red winter wheat futures could have come to dictate the spot price of Minneapolis hard red spring. Had the world starved because of a corner in Chicago? Mr. Silver looked into his scrambled eggs and said nothing.

So I began to tell him everything I knew, hoping he would eventually be inspired to fill in the blanks. I told him about Joseph in Egypt, Osaka in 1730, the Panic of 1857, and futures contracts for cat pelts, molasses, and onions. I told him about Goldman’s replication strategy, Gorton and Rouwenhorst’s 2005 paper, and the rise and rise of index funds. I told him that at least one analyst had estimated that investments in commodity index funds could easily increase to as much as $1 trillion, which would result in yet another global food catastrophe, much worse than the one before.

And I told Mr. Silver something else I had discovered: About two thirds of the Goldman index remains devoted to crude oil, gasoline, heating oil, natural gas, and other energy-based commodities. Wheat was nothing but an indexical afterthought, accounting for less than 6.5 percent of Goldman’s fund.
 
Mr. Silver sipped his coffee.
Even 6.5 percent of the Goldman Sachs Commodity Index made for a historically unprecedented pile of long wheat futures, I went on. Especially when those index funds kept rolling over the contracts they already had—all of them long, only a smattering bought in Kansas City, none in Minneapolis.

And then it occurred to me: It was neither an individual nor a corporation that had cornered the wheat market. The index funds may never have held a single bushel of wheat, but they were hoarding staggering quantities of wheat futures, billions of promises to buy, not one of them ever to be fulfilled. The dreaded market corner had emerged not from a shortage in the wheat supply but from a much rarer economic occurrence, a shock inspired by the ceaseless call of index funds for wheat that did not exist and would never need to exist: a demand shock. Instead of a hidden mastermind committing a dastardly deed, it was old Mike Mullin’s “brainless entity,” the investment instrument itself, that had taken over and created the effects of a traditional corner.

Mr. Silver had stopped eating his eggs.
I said that I understood how the index funds’ unprecedented accumulation of Chicago futures could create the appearance of a market corner in Chicago. But there was still something I didn’t get. Why had the wheat market in Minneapolis begun to act as though it too had been cornered when none of the index funds held hard red spring? Why had the world’s most widely exported wheat experienced a sudden surge in price, a surge that caused a billion people to go hungry.
At which point Mr. Silver interrupted my monologue.

Index-fund buying had pushed up the price of the Chicago contract, he said, until the price of a wheat future had come to equal the spot price of wheat on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange—and still, the futures price surged. The result was contango.
 
I gave Mr. Silver a blank look. Contango, he explained, describes a market in which future prices rise above current prices. Rather than being stable and steady, contango markets tend to be overheated and hysterical, with spot prices rising to match the most outrageously escalated futures prices. Indeed, between 2006 and 2008, the spot price of Chicago soft red winter shot up from $3 per bushel to $11 per bushel.

The ever-escalating price of wheat and the newfound strength of grain markets were excellent news for the new investors who had flooded commodity index funds. No matter that the mechanism created to stabilize grain prices had been reassembled into a mechanism to inflate grain prices, or that the stubbornly growing discrepancy between futures and spot prices meant that farmers and merchants no longer could use these markets to price crops and manage risks. No matter that contango in Chicago had disrupted the operations of the nation’s grain markets to the extent that the Senate Committee on Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs had begun an investigation into whether speculation in the wheat markets might pose a threat to interstate commerce. And then there was the question of the millers and the warehousers—those who needed actual wheat to sell, actual bread that might feed actual people.

Mr. Silver lowered his voice as he informed me that as the price of Chicago wheat had bubbled up, commercial buyers had turned elsewhere—to places like Minneapolis. Although hard red spring historically had been more expensive than soft red winter, it had begun to look like a bargain. So brokers bought hard red spring and left it to the chemists at General Mills or Sara Lee or Domino’s to rejigger their dough recipes for a higher-protein variety.

The grain merchants purchased Minneapolis hard red spring much earlier in the annual cycle than usual, and they purchased more of it than ever before, as real demand began to chase the ever-growing, everlasting long. By the time the normal buying season began, drought had hit Australia, floods had inundated northern Europe, and a vogue for biofuels had enticed U.S. farmers to grow less wheat and more corn. And so, when nations across the globe called for their annual hit of hard red spring, they discovered that the so-called visible supply was far lower than usual. At which point the markets veered into insanity.

Bankers had taken control of the world’s food, money chased money, and a billion people went hungry.

Mr. Silver finished his bacon and eggs and I followed him upstairs, beyond two sets of metal detectors, dozens of security staff, and a gaudy stained-glass image of Hermes, god of commerce, luck, and thievery. Through the colored glass that outlined the deity I caught my first glimpse of the immense trading floor of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. The electronic board had already begun to populate with green, yellow, and red numbers.

The wheat harvest of 2008 turned out to be the most bountiful the world had ever seen, so plentiful that even as hundreds of millions slowly starved, 200 million bushels were sold for animal feed. Livestock owners could afford the wheat; poor people could not. Rather belatedly, real wheat had shown up again—and lots of it. U.S. Department of Agriculture statistics eventually revealed that 657 million bushels of 2008 wheat remained in U.S. silos after the buying season, a record-breaking “carryover.” Soon after that bounteous oversupply had been discovered, grain prices plummeted and the wheat markets returned to business as usual.

The worldwide price of food had risen by 80 percent between 2005 and 2008, and unlike other food catastrophes of the past half century or so, the United States was not insulated from this one, as 49 million Americans found themselves unable to put a full meal on the table. Across the country demand for food stamps reached an all-time high, and one in five kids came to depend on food kitchens. In Los Angeles nearly a million people went hungry. In Detroit armed guards stood watch over grocery stores. Rising prices, mused the New York Times, “might have played a role.”

On the plane to Minneapolis I had read a startling prediction: “It may be hard to imagine commodity prices advancing another 460 percent above their mid-2008 price peaks,” hedge-fund manager John Hummel wrote in a letter to clients of AIS Capital Management. “But the fundamentals argue strongly,” he continued, that “these sectors have significant upside potential.” I made a quick calculation: 460 percent above 2008 peaks meant hamburger meat priced at $20 a pound.

On the ground in Minneapolis I put the question to Michael Ricks, chairman of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange. Could 2008 happen again? Could prices rise even higher?
“Absolutely,” said Ricks. “We’re in a volatile world.”

I put the same question to Layne Carlson, corporate secretary and treasurer of the Minneapolis Grain Exchange. “Yes,” said Carlson, who then told me the two principles that govern the movement of grain markets: “fear and greed.”

But wasn’t it part of a grain exchange’s responsibility to ensure a stable valuation of our daily bread?

“I view what we’re working with as widgets,” said Todd Posthuma, the exchange’s associate director of market operations and information technology, the man responsible for clearing $100 million worth of trades every day. “I think being an employee at an exchange is different from adding value to the food system.”

Above Mark Bagan’s oversize desk hangs a jagged chart of futures prices for the hard red spring wheat contract, mapping every peak and valley from 1973 to 2006. The highs on Bagan’s chart reached $7.50. Of course, had 2008 been included, the spikes would have, literally, gone through the roof.

Would the price of wheat rise again?

“The flow of money into commodities has changed significantly in the last decade,” explained Bagan. “Wheat, corn, soft commodities—I don’t see these dollars going away. It already has happened,” he said. “It’s inevitable.”


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