There can be no doubt that the head of the U.S. central bank, Alan
Greenspan, had more influence on our lives in 1998 than anybody
else. Greenspan -- not Time magazine's choice, President Clinton
and Kenneth Starr -- should, therefore, be recognized as the man
of the year.
"Thank God we're only talking about impeaching the president. Imagine
what a crisis we'd have if we were trying to get rid of Alan Greenspan."
The words of one congressman, uttered at one of the innumerable
moments of crisis during Bill Clinton's traumatic year, were said
without a hint of irony. Though the chairman of the Federal Reserve
may never compete for headlines with the world's most famous intern,
history is unlikely to be in much doubt whose contribution to world
events was the greater in 1998.
After all, though this was the year Mr Clinton was caught in the
sights of a legal and political assassination attempt, it was also
the year US financial markets and the US economy dodged a bullet
of their own - or, rather the incoming missile of the global slowdown.
And in the view of many of those who experienced it, the main reason
for the great escape was the timely intervention of Mr Greenspan
and his colleagues at the Fed. In the space of a few critical weeks
this autumn, the Fed chairman simultaneously executed a swift easing
of monetary policy and engineered the rescue of a failing hedge
fund which, had it fallen, might have wreaked havoc on the entire
US financial system.
Both actions were criticised widely at the time but three months
later it is clear they helped restore calm to jittery markets. Now
the economy looks set for more solid growth, a measure of confidence
has returned to financial markets and the stock market is back close
to record territory. And what is good news for America is good news
for the world. Strong US growth has been the lifeline for the rest
of the world in the last year - and if that growth continues the
chances of a global recovery are good. In fact some economists argue
that the real significance of Mr Greenspan's annus mirabilis
is a fundamental change in approach by the Fed.
"The Greenspan Federal Reserve appears to have shifted regime,
operating with a new policy framework that takes the world economy
and financial system into account, viewing the US as one component
in this system," says Allen Sinai, chief economist at Primark Decision
Economics in New York. No one is yet prepared to say the crisis
is over. Nor can it be claimed that the Fed alone calmed international
markets (fiscal and financial changes in Japan, European rate cuts
and an International Monetary Fund programme in Brazil all helped).
What few seriously doubt is that Mr Greenspan's role was pivotal.
The question, though, is whether his actions will turn out to have
been entirely beneficial. Many in financial markets are happy to
raise a glass to the Fed chairman this holiday season. Others, however,
argue that 1998 will be remembered as the year when the seeds of
economic destruction were sown. They say Mr Greenspan has allowed
a stock market bubble to inflate; and far from rescuing the world
from collapse in 1998, he has actually significantly raised the
possibility that when the end of this long US expansion eventually
comes, the fall will be greater than ever. They argue that 1998
will be remembered not as the year of the Great Greenspan World
Economic Rescue, but as the year of the Great Greenspan Bubble.
What neither admirers nor critics dispute is that the 72-year-old
Mr Greenspan is now in possession of something rare in central banking
circles - cult status. It is not just that he is in charge of the
most powerful central bank in the world. In his 11 years at the
Fed, he has earned a reputation for economic management that has
made his name synonymous with America's economic renaissance. Steering
monetary policy through a succession of crises in the late 1980s
and early 1990s - the stock market collapse of 1987, the savings
and loans debacle, the Mexican debt crisis - he has been widely
credited, quite seriously, as having been the architect of that
renaissance.
He is known not only for his fearsome backhand on the tennis court
but also for a clever political mind, which has enabled him to get
appointed or re-appointed by three presidents and to count among
his close friends senior members of both Democratic and Republican
administrations. Few bureaucrats (and fewer central bankers) have
ever achieved such status. His followers are no longer confined
to the bond trading rooms of investment banks; though his face is
still unfamiliar to most, his name is literally a household one.
His standing is all the more remarkable since his public pronouncements,
though frequent, are as Delphic as ever. "We never know what Mr
Greenspan is going to say before he says it," Mike McCurry, the
former White House press secretary once remarked, deflecting criticism
that the White House was interfering in the Fed's policy. "In fact,
we don't generally know what Mr Greenspan has said even after he's
said it."
So how did Mr Greenspan achieve his miracle-working reputation?
And, in particular, how did he manage this year (after so long in
the post) to go from workmanlike monetary bureaucrat to master of
the universe?
The year 1998 could easily have seen the Fed chairman's steadily
rising reputation depreciate faster than a Russian share price.
The US economy was caught in the cross-currents of opposing trends.
The domestic economy had developed a head of steam that looked alarmingly
inflationary. Output had expanded by 3.9 per cent in 1997, a rate
well in excess of that normally considered sustainable without igniting
price pressures. Unemployment was below 5 per cent and most Fed
officials cautioned that it was only a matter of time before wage
pressures began to accelerate.
Worse still the stock market, which Mr Greenspan had been fretting
about publicly for more than a year, continued to inflate at an
alarming pace. Since the notable failure of the chairman's earlier
attempt to cool the market down - his "irrational exuberance" speech
in December 1996 - Wall Street had risen by more than 25 per cent.
But this buoyant outlook was clouded by what was happening in Asia.
US manufacturers were just starting to report export problems from
collapsing overseas markets; and the betting was that the trade
problems would slow growth considerably. Moreover, Mr Greenspan
was concerned about financial markets. He had long been warning
that the rapid pace at which money moved around the world in modern
markets posed new threats to the US economy. If investors got nervous
elsewhere he knew US markets could suddenly be overwhelmed with
panic - freezing up the flow of money and bringing the still benign
US expansion to a juddering halt. In the circumstances the Fed played
safe. With signs that the hectic pace of growth was continuing,
the central bank's open market committee refrained from raising
rates at its March meeting, but moved to a "bias towards tightening"
policy, meaning it saw the inflationary risks as greater than recessionary
ones. Throughout the spring and summer the Fed remained in this
stance, ready to pull the interest rate trigger if necessary.
Then Russia imploded. The debt moratorium and rouble devaluation
significantly altered the equation. For months Mr Greenspan had
been quietly complaining that US investors had taken an unrealistic
attitude to risk - they no longer seemed to believe it existed -
and spreads between yields on the riskiest of investments and those
on riskless assets had declined sharply. But with Russia gone, investors
took fright. Risk spreads gaped ominously and undermined domestic
financial markets. Share prices plummeted. The Fed chairman understood
that he had to act quickly to convince markets the US central bank
was ready to assist the world economy in crisis. In discussions
with other central bank governors and finance ministers around the
world, Mr Greenspan agreed to sign up to a special statement by
the Groups of Seven industrialised countries that said the balance
of risks in the world economy had shifted from inflation to recession.
But markets were still unclear whether that meant the Fed would
cut rates.
On September 18, Mr Greenspan learned of the first major US casualty
of the crisis. Long-Term Capital Management, a hedge fund, had run
into difficulties and seemed about to collapse. The Fed decided
to orchestrate a rescue, paid for by the private sector, to stop
the risk of contagion. A week later, the FOMC cut short-term interest
rates by a quarter point. The initial market reaction was negative
- too little, too late, some called it and stocks continued to fall.
Two weeks later, in a rare decision taken between meetings of the
open market committee, Mr Greenspan himself decided another quarter-point
cut was needed. To his supporters Mr Greenspan's actions - signalling
a rate cut was coming, authorising the rescue for LTCM and executing
a quick double interest rate cut in two weeks - were the turning
point for the world economy. Indeed, soon after those frantic weeks,
an air of calm descended over markets.
But in the view of some sceptics, though those actions may have
seemed successful in stabilising world markets, Mr Greenspan's deeds
were, in fact, forced on him. Market interest rates had already
fallen sharply in the month before the Fed cut rates. Likewise the
decision to rescue LTCM was a fait accompli. A refusal to
get involved would have been unthinkable. That was not how the debate
seemed at the time inside or outside the Fed. On interest rates,
there were those who were still arguing for caution, aware that,
for all the turmoil, the US economy did not seem to have slowed
at all. And the LTCM rescue was widely condemned at the time as
an embarrassing piece of US "crony capitalism". (David Mullins,
a former vice-chairman of the Fed and still a friend of Mr Greenspan,
was on LTCM's board). But most economists believe the Fed's actions
were neither wrong nor dictated for it by events.
"In the circumstances, the moves were essentially the right ones
- and not necessarily all that easy to make," said Lawrence Lindsey,
a former Fed governor.
In fact the chairman again demonstrated through the crisis another
characteristic of his tenure at the Fed.
He has repeatedly shown in the past few years that he is not, as
some central bankers have been, "obsessed" with inflation. Before
the crisis intensified this summer, Mr Greenspan had been under
heavy pressure to raise interest rates to curb the rapid US expansion.
Yet, in spite of an average annual growth rate of almost 4 per cent
for the past three years, the Fed has raised interest rates only
once - and then by just a quarter of a point.
As a result the economy has been allowed to grow much faster than
it would otherwise have done, with no sign of inflationary ill-effects.
Except, possibly, for one.
The most serious criticism of the Fed chairman focuses on the surging
bull market. To many economists, the Fed has failed to prevent the
greatest threat to the US economy. If it had moved earlier to squeeze
liquidity in asset markets, it might have been able to deflate the
"bubble" gently. When prices fall the impact on the economy will
kill off the expansion and - in the process - destroy Mr Greenspan's
reputation. Paradoxically, Mr Greenspan's success in 1998 may have
made this more acute. By steering so adeptly through the conflicting
currents, he may have increased the market's perception (or delusion)
that risks are a thing of the past, pushing up share prices to even
riskier levels and making the pain of any future bust all the greater.
There are those naysayers who argue that 1998 will be seen as the
year in which the seeds of economic destruction were sown. To quote
the London-based Financial Times:
"They say Mr. Greenspan has allowed a stock market bubble to inflate;
and far from rescuing the world from collapse in 1998, he has significantly
raised the possibility that when the end of this long U.S. expansion
eventually comes, the fall will be greater than ever. They argue
that 1998 will be remembered not as the Great Greenspan World Economic
Rescue, but as the Year of the Great Greenspan Bubble."
We all know a bubble when we see one. And you have to be blind
not to see one in the current Internet-stock craze. But Alan Greenspan
had about as much to do with this as Santa Claus did.
What the Fed boss did do was stabilize a global financial system
that was on the verge of spinning out of control and restore confidence
on both Wall Street and Main Street by aggressively lowering interest
rates. These actions have added new life to the economic expansion
that we have enjoyed for so long, new life to both our stock and
bond markets.
The Fed chairman has been troubled by the stock market for at least
the last two years. But economists at the Fed, who have looked at
the implications of past bubbles, seem to have concluded that, for
all the dangers, there is very little they can do. Raising interest
rates to prick an asset bubble when inflation is low requires an
almost impossible task of fine-tuning. Raise them a fraction too
high, and the bubble bursts with damaging consequences. Raise them
a little, but not enough, and you risk hurting the real economy
without addressing the market problem. The central bank's inability
to deflate bubbles gently points up one of the ironies of Mr Greenspan's
standing in world financial markets. His stewardship of US monetary
policy has been so effective that investors seem to have placed
their confidence - and their money - in his ability to get judgments
right. "Markets everywhere have been levitated by a kind of touching
belief in the omniscience of Alan Greenspan," says Mr Lindsey. The
irony is that the higher the markets go, the less chance the omniscient
Mr Greenspan has to prevent a serious financial accident.