Unlimited Liability for Speculative Bankers

Bankers must be made to bear the cost of their reckless risk-taking

Separating retail and investment banking is not enough. Speculative banking needs to have unlimited liability

• 
• • Prem Sikka
  • guardian.co.uk, Sunday 4 November 2012 13.10 GMT

Lehman Brothers employees leaving the Canary Wharf building in London, carrying their possessions in boxes, aftert the bank collapsed in 2008. Photograph: Graeme Robertson

 

Hot on the heels of the Libor scandal and money-laundering at HSBC and Standard Chartered Bank comes the allegation that Barclays Bank attempted to manipulate the US energy markets to make profits. Of course, Barclays has no direct interest in buying or selling oil, gas or electricity. Its aim is to make profits by betting on the price changes, a process that often drives up the price of the underlying commodity and forces ordinary people to pay sky-high prices.

This speculative activity is facilitated by complex financial instruments known as derivatives, described by investment guru Warren Buffett as "financial weapons of mass destruction". Behind the technical jargon lies a giant gambling machine, which bets on anything that can be priced. The hard cash needed to settle the outcome of the bets is always highly uncertain until the contracts mature, which could be 10 to 15 years in the future. And, like other bets, derivatives don't always pay off – as the cases of Nick Leeson at Barings and more recently Jérôme Kerviel at Société Générale exemplify.
The UK government claims that speculation will be curbed by a separation of investment banking from the retail side. This, it is claimed, will protect savers and taxpayers from the toxic effects of risky positions adopted by bankers. This policy will not work. Even after separation, investment banks will continue to use funds from retail banks, pension funds and insurance companies for their speculative activities. The speculators will continue to shelter behind limited liability and dump losses on to innocent bystanders. Unless the benefit of limited liability is removed from investment banks, their losses and reckless risks will inevitably be transferred to other sectors. The separation between retail and speculative operations needs to be accompanied by unlimited liability for investment banking, ensuring that those who take excessive risks are 100% liable for their mistakes.

Derivatives are central to the current economic crisis. In 2008, Lehman Brothers collapsed with 1.2 million derivatives contracts, which had a face value of nearly $39 trillion, though the economic exposure was considerably less. For nearly six years before its demise, almost all of the pre-tax profits at Bear Stearns came from speculative activities. It could not continue to pick winners indefinitely, and collapsed in 2008. It had shareholder funds of $11.8bn, debts of $384bn and a derivatives portfolio with a face value of $13.4 trillion. The derivatives gambles also brought down American International Group (AIG) – the world's largest insurer – and Washington Mutual. Then in October 2011, MF Global, a US brokerage firm that specialised in delivering trading and hedging solutions, filed for bankruptcy. It had nearly 3 million derivatives contracts with a notional value of more than $100bn.

Despite these high-profile casualties, risk-hungry investment bankers remain undeterred. The face value of the global derivatives trade is about $1,200 trillion (£749 trillion). With a global GDP of $65-70 trillion, the world economy is not in a position to absorb even 0.1% ($1.2 trillion) of losses.
The UK's GDP is about £1.5 trillion. Just three UK banks – Barclays, HSBC and Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS) – alone have a derivatives portfolio, with a face value totalling nearly £100 trillion. Barclays leads the way with £43 trillion. It has recently reported a third-quarter loss of £47 million, but its balance sheet points to a more serious position. Barclays' last full-year accounts show assets of £1.56 trillion and capital of only £65bn, meaning that its gross leverage is nearly 24 times its capital base. A decline of just 4% in asset values would wipe out its entire capital. Barclays' balance sheet shows gross exposure to derivatives of £539bn, though the bank could argue that this is offset by hedges of £528bn, leaving a net exposure of £11bn. The difficulty is that the hedges, as Lehman Brothers, Bear Stearns and Northern Rock have learnt, do not necessarily work in the desired way and always depend on the position of the counter parties in a highly unpredictable environment.

Merely separating retail and investment banking will neither choke off nor contain the effects of toxic gambles, because speculative activities will affect other sectors of the economy. For any possibility of containing the crisis, speculative banking needs to have unlimited liability. Thus, if the bets go bad, bankers will personally need to bear the negative consequences. One of the tasks of the banking regulator should be to ensure that the size of the bets bears a reasonable relationship to the assets of the gamblers, so that cavalier bankers are not able to gamble more than they can lose. No retail bank, pension fund, insurance company or pension fund should be able to provide money to any investment bank without specific approval from its stakeholders.

The above reforms will help to reduce speculative activity and quarantine the negative effects of reckless gambling. They will also remind neoliberals that the freedom to speculate needs to be accompanied by responsibilities.

Socialism for the Rich

George Monbiot

In the documentary series which finished on Friday evening, the heiress Tamara Ecclestone set out to prove that she isn't "a pointless, quite spoilt, really stupid, vacuous, empty human being". This endeavour was not wholly successful. Channel 5 showed her supervising the refurbishment of her £45m home in London, in which she commissioned a £1m bathtub carved from Mexican crystal, an underground swimming pool complex, her own nightclub, a lift for her Ferrari, a bowling alley with crystal-studded balls and a spa and massage parlour for her five dogs, to save her the trouble of taking them to Harrods to have their hair sprayed and their nails painted. But there was something the series didn't tell us: how much of this you helped to pay for.




In court a fortnight ago, her father, the Formula One boss Bernie Ecclestone, revealed that the fact his family's offshore trust, Bambino Holdings, was controlled by his ex-wife rather than himself could have saved him "in excess of £2bn" in tax. The name suggests that the trust could have something to do with supporting his daughter's attempt to follow the teachings of St Francis of Assisi.



Ecclestone has also been adept at making use of the corporate welfare state: the transfer by the government of wealth and power from the rest of us to the 1%. After the mogul made a donation to Labour's election fund, Tony Blair demanded that F1 be exempted from the European Union's ban on tobacco sponsorship. The government built a new dual carriageway to the F1 racetrack at Silverstone.



In other countries his business has received massive state subsidies. Russia, for example, has recently agreed to build a circuit for Ecclestone to race his cars, and then charge itself $280m for the privilege of letting him use it. Working in India in 2004, I came across the leaked minutes of a cabinet meeting in which the consultancy McKinsey insisted that the desperately poor state of Andhra Pradesh – where millions die of preventable diseases – cough up between £50m and £75m a year to support F1. The minutes also revealed that the state's chief minister had lobbied the prime minister of India to exempt Ecclestone's business from the national ban on tobacco advertising.



Socialism for the rich, capitalism for the poor: that is how our economies work. Those at the bottom are subject to the rigours of the free market. Those at the top are as pampered and protected as Tamara Ecclestone's dogs.



On Tuesday George Osborne decided at last to review the private finance initiative (PFI), under which the companies building public infrastructure made stupendous profits while the state retained the risks. But if you thought that the chancellor's decision represented a wider shift in policy, you'll be sorely disappointed. Two days later he agreed to sell the state-owned bank Northern Rock to Richard Branson. Under the deal, the state keeps the liabilities while Branson gets the assets – rather like PFI. The loss equates to £13 for every taxpayer.



Someone who will not suffer unduly from being touched for £13 is Matt Ridley. As chairman of Northern Rock, he was responsible, according to the Treasury select committee, for the "high-risk, reckless business strategy" which caused the first run on a UK bank since 1878. Before he became chairman, a position he appears to have inherited from his father, Ridley was one of this country's fiercest exponents of laissez-faire capitalism. He described government as "a self-seeking flea on the backs of the more productive people of this world … governments do not run countries, they parasitise them."



The self-seeking parasite bailed out his catastrophic attempt to put his ideas into practice, to the tune of £27bn. What did the talented Mr Ridley learn from this experience? The square root of nothing. He went on to publish a book in which he excoriated the regulation of business by the state's "parasitic bureaucracy" and claimed that the market system makes self-interest "thoroughly virtuous".



Having done his best to bankrupt the blood-sucking state, he returned to his family seat at Blagdon Hall, set in 15 square miles of farmland, where the Ridleys live – non-parastically of course – on rents from their tenants, handouts from the common agricultural policy and fees from the estate's opencast coal mines. No one has been uncouth enough to mention the idea that he might be surcharged for part of the £400m loss Northern Rock has inflicted on the parasitic taxpayer. It's not the 1% who have to carry the costs of their cockups.



Even in the midst of this crisis, when the poor are being hammered on all sides, the government still seeks to transfer their meagre resources to the rich. Last month the business department listed five employment rules that businesses might wish to challenge. Among them were the national minimum wage and statutory sick pay.



On Friday, David Cameron opened negotiations with Angela Merkel over the eurozone crisis. His two principal demands were that there should be no "Robin Hood tax" on financial transactions and that the working time directive, which prevents companies exploiting their staff, should be renegotiated.



Just as instructive was what he did not discuss. In fact, as far as I can tell, none of the European leaders have yet mentioned it in their summits, even though it accounts for almost half the EU's spending. It is of course the agricultural subsidy system, which now costs British taxpayers £3.6bn a year.



We like to imagine this money supports wizened shepherds who tie up their trousers with bailer twine, but the major beneficiaries are people like the Ridleys. The more land you own, the more support you receive from the state.





The common agricultural policy is a massive state subsidy to the richest people in Europe: the aristocrats and plutocrats who possess the big holdings. British politicians pretend that it is protected only by the French. This is bunkum: in February a House of Commons committee demanded not only that the existing subsidy system be sustained but also that we should reinstate headage payments, encouraging farmers to produce food nobody wants.



Last week the Guardian exposed a system which looks like state-enforced slavery. To qualify for the £53 a week they receive in jobseeker's allowance, young people are being forced to work without pay for up to eight weeks for companies such as Tesco, Poundland, Argos and Sainsbury. Some of the nation's poorest people, in other words, are being obliged by the state to subsidise some of its richest businesses, by giving them their labour.



For the corporate welfare queens installing their crystal baths, there is no benefit cap, no obligation to work, in some cases no taxation. Limited liability, offshore secrecy regimes, deregulation and government handouts ensure that they bear none of the costs their class has inflicted on the rest of us. They live at our expense, while disparaging the lesser mortals who support them.



A fully referenced version of this article can be found on wwwmonbiot.com