A history of global reserve currencies

Michael Pettis in The FT

The US dollar, analysts often propose, is the latest in a 600-year history of global reserve currencies. Each of its predecessor currencies was eventually replaced by another, and in the same way the dollar will eventually be replaced by one or more currencies.  

The problem with this argument, however, is that there is no such history. The role of the US dollar in the global system of trade and capital flows is unprecedented, mainly because of the unprecedented role the US economy plays in global trade and capital imbalances. The fact that so many analysts base their claims on this putative history only shows just how confused the discussion has been.  

It’s not that there haven’t been other important currencies before the dollar. The history of the world is replete with famous currencies, but these played a very different role in the flow of capital and goods across international borders. Trade before the days of dollar dominance was ultimately settled in gold or silver. A country’s currency could only be a “major” trade currency to the extent that its gold and silver coins were widely accepted as unadulterated or, by the 19th century, if the convertibility of its paper claims into gold or silver was highly credible.  

This is not just a technical difference. A world in which trade is denominated in gold or silver, or in claims that are easily and quickly convertible into gold and silver, creates very different conditions from those today. Consider the widely-held belief that sterling once ruled the world in much the same way the dollar does today.  

It simply isn’t true. While sterling was indeed used more than other currencies in Europe to settle trade, and the credibility of its conversion into gold was hard-earned by the Bank of England after the Napoleonic wars, whenever sterling claims rose relative to the amount of gold held by the Bank of England, its credibility was undermined. In that case foreigners tended to reverse their use of sterling, forcing the Bank of England to raise interest rates and adjust demand to regain gold reserves.¹ 

This does not happen to the US dollar. Trade conditions under gold- or silver-standards are dramatically different from those in a dollar world in at least three important ways. First, trade imbalances in the former must be consistent with the ability of economies to absorb gold and silver inflows and outflows. This means that while small imbalances were possible to the extent that they allowed wealthier economies to fund productive investment in developing economies, this was not the case for large, persistent trade imbalances — except under extraordinary circumstances.²  

Second, and much more importantly, as trade imbalances reverse, the contraction in demand required in deficit countries is matched by an expansion in demand in surplus countries. That is because while monetary outflows in deficit countries force them to curtail domestic demand to stem the outflows, the corresponding inflows into the surplus countries cause an automatic expansion of domestic money and credit that, in turn, boosts domestic demand. Under the gold- and silver-standards, in other words, trade imbalances did not put downward pressure on global demand, and so global trade expansion typically led to global demand expansion. 

And third, under gold and silver standards it was trade that drove the capital account, not vice versa as it is today. While traders chose which currency it was most convenient in which to trade, shifting from the use of one currency to another had barely any impact on the underlying structure of trade. 

None of these conditions hold in our dollar-based global trading system because of the transformational role played by the US economy. Because of its deep and flexible financial system, and its well-governed asset markets, the US — and other anglophone economies with similar conditions, eg the UK, Canada, and Australia — are the preferred location into which surplus countries dump their excess savings. 

Contrary to traditional trade theory, in which a well-functioning trading system might involve small, manageable capital flows from advanced, capital-intensive economies to capital-poor developing economies with high investment needs, nearly 70-80 per cent of all the excess savings — from both advanced and developing economies — is directed into the wealthy anglophone economies. These in turn have to run the corresponding deficits of which the US alone typically absorbs more than half. As I have discussed elsewhere, this creates major economic distortions for the US and the other anglophone economies, whose financial sectors benefit especially at the expense of their manufacturing sectors. 

It is only because the US and, to a lesser extent, the anglophone economies, are willing to export unlimited claims on their domestic assets — in the form of stocks, bonds, factories, urban real estate, agricultural property, etc — that the surplus economies of the world are able to implement the mercantilist policies that systematically suppress domestic demand to subsidise their manufacturing competitiveness. This is precisely what John Maynard Keynes warned about, unsuccessfully, in 1944. He argued that a dollar standard would lead to a world in which surplus and deficit countries would adjust asymmetrically, as the former suppressed domestic demand and exported the resulting demand deficiency. 

The point is that dollar dominance isn’t simply about choosing to denominate trading activities in dollars the way one might have chosen, in the 19th century, between gold-backed franc, gold-backed sterling, or Mexican silver pesos. It is about the role the US economy plays in absorbing global savings imbalances. This doesn’t mean, by the way, that the US must run permanent deficits, as many seem to believe. It just means that it must accommodate whatever imbalances the rest of the world creates. 

In the fifty years characterised by the two world wars, for example, the US ran persistent surpluses as it exported savings. Because Europe and Asia at the time urgently needed foreign savings to help rebuild their war-torn economies, it was the huge US surpluses that put the dollar at the centre of the global trading system during that period. 

By the 1960s and 1970s, however, Europe and Asia had largely rebuilt their economies and, rather than continue to absorb foreign savings, they wanted to absorb foreign demand to propel domestic growth further. Absorbing foreign demand means exporting domestic savings, and because of its huge domestic consumer markets and safe, profitable and liquid asset markets, the obvious choice was the US. Probably because of the exigencies of the cold war, Washington encouraged them to do so. Only later did this choice congeal into an economic ideology that saw unfettered capital flows as a way to strengthen the power of American finance. 

This is why the end of dollar dominance doesn’t mean a global trading system that simply and non-disruptively shifts from denominating trade in dollars to denominating it in some other currency. It means instead the end of the current global trading system — Ie the end of the willingness and ability of the anglophone economies to absorb up to 70-80 per cent of global trade surpluses, the end of large, persistent trade and capital flow imbalances, and, above all, the end of mercantilist policies that allow surplus countries to become competitive at the expense of foreign manufacturers and domestic demand. 

The end of dollar dominance would be a good thing for the global economy, and especially for the US economy (albeit not, perhaps, for US geopolitical power), but it can’t happen without a transformation of the structure of global trade, and it probably won’t happen until the US refuses to continue absorbing global imbalances as it has for the past several decades. However it happens, a world in which trade isn’t structured around the dollar will require a massive transformation of the structure of global trade — and for surplus countries like Brazil, Germany, Saudi Arabi, and China, this is likely to be a very disruptive transformation. 

1. Nor was sterling even the leading trade currency in the 18th and 19th centuries. More widely used in much of Asia and the Americas were Mexican silver pesos, whose purity and standardisation were much valued by traders and so formed the bulk of trade settlements. 

2. One can argue that the closest comparison to today was 17th century Spain, when Spain ran large, persistent trade deficits, but of course these were the automatic consequences of huge inflows of American silver, and Spain didn’t accommodate foreign imbalances so much as create them, to the benefit especially of England and the Netherlands. In a recent conversation George Magnus also noted how the famous sterling balances of the 1940s illustrated another — very different — example in which the structure of trade could not be separated from the use of its underlying currency.  

The £ Sterling’s faded illusion of sovereignty

Philip Stephens in The FT

Margaret Thatcher once told me that she would never allow “the Belgians” to decide the value of the British pound. At the time, the then prime minister was battling her chancellor Nigel Lawson’s plan to fix the value of sterling in the European exchange rate mechanism. For some reason she had identified me as one of the chancellor’s confidants. “The Belgians”, equally inexplicably, was her shorthand for the EU.  

The fight cost the chancellor his job, but a year or so later Thatcher was obliged to relent. Two years after it joined the ERM, sterling crashed out of the system amid a tsunami of speculative selling. 

Thatcher by then had gone, replaced by John Major. Even so, the pound became an inviolable emblem of national sovereignty in the Conservative party’s long war with Brussels. Before too long, another Tory leader, William Hague, was promising to “save” sterling from the euro. Black Wednesday, you could say, mapped the Tory route to the Brexit vote in 2016.

I was reminded of the Thatcher encounter by a report published the other day by analysts at Bank of America. Since the Brexit referendum, the pound has rather lost its lustre as a store of value. It no longer bears comparison, the analysts said, with traditional peers such as the dollar, yen, swiss franc or euro. Instead, sterling may more closely resemble an emerging market currency, such as the Mexican peso. Sterling’s effective exchange rate has fallen by about 14 per cent since 2016, but twin budget and current account deficits promise further trouble.  

In truth, Thatcher’s elevation of the pound into an essential pillar of nationhood belied its postwar role in Britain’s fortunes. For decades, an ever-present threat of devaluation was a ball-and-chain around the ankles of successive prime ministers. In 1945, about half the world’s trade was still transacted in sterling. From then on, it was all downhill.  

The failed effort to defend Britain’s global prestige through preservation of the so-called sterling balances held by overseas central banks and financial institutions left governments at the mercy of international investors and speculators. 

It also produced a series of politically costly devaluations. In 1950, one pound bought about 12 Deutsche Marks. In the absence of the euro, the comparable figure today would be a little above two. 

In effect, pressure on the pound measured the gap between Britain’s determination to hold on to its status as a world power, and the capacity of a stuttering domestic economy to generate sufficient resources to match its overseas ambitions and commitments. The price of propping up the pound was a ruinous stop-go approach to domestic economic management. 

It was no coincidence that the devaluation that was forced on Harold Wilson’s government in 1967 sounded the final retreat from imperial pretensions with the subsequent withdrawal of British forces from east of Suez. 

In the circumstances, one might think that sterling would have lost its talismanic status long ago. The sovereignty so preciously guarded by the Brexiters is an illusion. The truth Thatcher could never admit was that the appearance of national control does not change the facts of foreign exchange markets. The pound’s exchange rate, fixed or otherwise, ultimately depends on the confidence, or otherwise, of foreign investors in the nation’s political stability and economic performance — and, yes, that includes the Belgians. 

Mark Carney, the former governor of the Bank of England, has also remarked on how sterling has “decoupled” from its usual peers. Bank of America’s grim prognosis, however, is not universally shared among financial institutions. 

Some think the pound’s present exchange rate anticipates more economic disruption after the expiry of the Brexit transitional arrangements. In the short term, the conclusion of even a fairly thin trade deal with the EU27 could see a temporary appreciation. 

That said, trade deal or no deal, and even assuming a relatively robust recovery from the coronavirus-induced recession, Brexit will throw up new barriers to trade with Britain’s most important market. This promises in turn lower-than-otherwise economic growth, and a widening of the current account deficit. It is hard to find reasons for a positive view of the pound over the medium to long-term. 

The government, of course, could treat sterling’s move to the sidelines as something of a liberation. For now, it has little problem financing its burgeoning government deficit. Devaluation would also provide at least a temporary route to improved competitiveness. It could even pretend, as Wilson did, that a weak currency does not cut living standards. 

I am not sure this would sit alongside Boris Johnson’s expansive pledge to turn Brexit into the platform for the relaunch of “Global Britain”. The prime minister, I am told, is emotionally sympathetic to grand talk about carving out a new role in the Gulf and beyond. 

But no one knows where the money would come from. 

One way or another, sterling holds up a mirror to the world’s view of Britain. The signals are not encouraging. In the 1970s, the UK earned the sobriquet of “the sick man of Europe”. The danger now is it will become the invalid on Europe’s edge.

Germany has benefitted from the Euro and should protect it.

There is only one alternative to the euro's survival: catastrophe

Little Englanders – and blinkered Germans – need to wake up to the implications of a fractured eurozone

• 
• • Will Hutton
  • The Observer, Sunday 13 November 2011
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It is hard not to have the gravest of forebodings about the European and British economies, and about the future of Europe itself. Nobody would start from here – an ill-designed single currency interacting with an insupportable burden of private debt created by oversized, undercapitalised banks. And it's as much a problem in the US and China as in Europe. There are only least bad ways forward: none good. This is a crisis in contemporary capitalism as much as a crisis of Europe's monetary regime and governance. It needs to be seen in those terms.

But so saturated is British commentary in jingoistic Euro-scepticism that Europe's travails are portrayed as proof positive that it is European visionary delusions rather than contemporary capitalism that is at fault. Greece, and indeed Ireland and even Italy, are urged to get out of the euro, for the euro to be smashed and for the entire EU project to be abandoned. This is the route to prosperity and wellbeing – with no trace of self knowledge as British trade performance deteriorates even after a monumental devaluation while our economy is still years away from recovering to 2008 levels of peak output. That is Europe's fault, or so runs the line – not the fault of our dysfunctional economic structures and policies.

However, Britain's interest is unambiguous: it lies in the survival of the euro. There is too much easy talk about countries leaving. Last week, financial policy committee member Robert Jenkins spelled out the consequences for Britain and for Europe of Greece now quitting the euro. There would be seismic bank runs in Ireland, Portugal, Spain and even Italy as citizens and companies, fearing the same could happen to them, moved their cash out of their countries. Weaker banks, tottering from losses in Greece, would fold. The European Central Bank would be overwhelmed. The European economy would slump – and Britain with it.
Greece's fight is our own. But what is being asked of Greece's new interim prime minister, Lucas Papademos, is impossible. Unemployment is 18.4%. The schedule of its foreign loan repayments over the next five years beggars belief. On the other hand, Greek capitalism, a network of family oligarchs rigging Greek markets and leading a society in which tax evasion is morally and socially acceptable, is in acute need of reform. Europe could have been organised around floating exchange rates rather than a single currency, but the vast overhang of private debt alongside crocked banks demands similar medicine.

And while staying in the euro is in the interest of Greece – and Italy – it is in the rest of Europe's interest too. But there has to be a quid pro quo for all the pain that such severe austerity involves. Private and public debt needs to be radically lowered; and in a world of little growth there are only two routes. Either it has to be forgiven by their creditors, or there has to be inflation. If the eurozone can deliver neither, its future is in question.

In July and, again, in October, the EU signalled it understood what needed to be done and moved towards it – a combination of decisive debt forgiveness, the creation of a European Monetary Fund, substantially financed by Germany and which could bail out stricken banks and even governments, and the empowerment of the European Central Bank to go beyond supplying emergency cash on crisis terms. Instead, it could act as a lender of last resort everywhere in the eurozone.

The system could potentially be put in place fast; the right sentiments have been uttered – but after each summit Germany has consistently blocked making the money flow. It has said no to the European Central Bank operating as a lender of last resort across the eurozone; no to creating a genuine European Monetary Fund on the scale needed; no to the creation of single euro bonds. Ireland, Greece and Italy are all doing their part. Germany must now do its – or the euro will buckle.

Germany's phobias are well-known – inflation and then slump led to Hitler. What's more, the German constitutional court has ruled that the EU is a Staatenbund (a group of states). This means that Germany can only constitutionally make fiscal transfers to other members if each one is agreed by the German parliament. But phobias and constitutional courts cannot trump the agonising choice facing Germany and Europe.
Germany profits richly from the way the eurozone is organised. It is the only country in Europe whose share of world trade has risen over the past 10 years. But it enjoys the same exchange rate as much weaker exporters such as Greece or Spain – a huge boon. Even Britain, with our much vaunted floating exchange rate, has seen our share of world trade fall by a third over the same period.

Germany now has to accept its part of the bargain. The choice must be confronted. One option to secure the euro's future is via widespread debt forgiveness and fiscal transfers backed by Germany; the only other route out is inflation.

Here I make a modest proposal. Instead of delivering purposeless lectures from the sidelines about the need for action while he prepares to blame Europe for the ongoing British stagnation, for which he is primarily responsible, David Cameron should make the intervention of his life. He should travel to Germany and make a speech in German – however embarrassing – spelling out the choices. If Germany is unprepared to accept them, he should argue that the least bad option is not for Greece to leave the euro – but for Germany, whose economy is strong enough to take the shock, to do so.

He should say that while it was right for Britain not to join the single currency as it was previously constructed, if Germany were to act responsibly, Britain would peg sterling to a reformed euro and in the long run even consider joining the regime. Moreover, Britain would do this either way, he could argue – eventually joining a single currency in which Germany accepted its responsibilities or a single currency without Germany.

Such a speech – which, of course, will never be made – would create turmoil in Germany. It fears isolation in Europe even more than it fears inflation. It prizes the undervaluation of its exports priced in euro. It would force its leadership to recognise that there are other potential ways of organising our continent other than around German preoccupations – and perhaps trigger the change in German policy that is needed. It would change the rules of the game at a stroke, and show that Britain is a European force with which to be reckoned. But Cameron is trapped into Little England isolationism. And Little Englanders, along with moralistic and blinkered Germans, threaten to sink both the idea of Europe – and its economy.