“HBOS’ share price began to drop last summer when the City became nervous about its reliance on UK mortgages. There were denials that the firm was in crisis, which is always a terrible sign. In September 2008, the Big Four bank Lloyds bought HBOS after its boss, Victor Blank – this is the part you couldn’t make up – bumped into Gordon Brown at a drinks party and got him to give an assurance that a takeover would not be referred to the monopolies commission.
Most of us have had a few drinks at a party and done something embarrassing, usually along the lines of “I’ve-always-fancied-you-isn’t-it-time-we-did-something-about-it” but let’s take comfort in the following truth: none of us has ever done anything as embarrassing as buying HBOS.”
- John Lanchester, London Review of Books, “It’s Finished”, May 2009.
“Kenneth Feinberg, the Obama administration’s special master for executive compensation, said he is “very concerned” about the possibility his pay cuts may drive talent away from companies bailed out by US taxpayers.”
- Bloomberg News, 12th November 2009.
Well, with talent like that, who needs grubbily self-interested morons? And yet in our Looking Glass world, the overarching policy mistakes just keep coming. Last week saw an announcement from the UK’s Nursing and Midwifery Council that from 2013, all would-be nurses will have to have a degree. Two thoughts spring to mind by way of response. One is that the current Labour government has done its damnedest to dilute the rigour of a university degree with its fatuous and statistically arbitrary objective of pushing 50% of the young population into higher “education,” resulting in a strangely underpowered graduate workforce that in some cases can barely read or write. The second is that the City has, for at least the past two decades, insisted that all front office positions should be held exclusively by graduates. That comparably arbitrary hurdle has not had a particularly successful outcome, in anything other than the narrowest economic and financial terms. From 2013, sick people may wish to try and heal themselves, or to self-medicate via random pharmaceutical internet sites, rather than take their chances on the NHS. Let us hope that at least some of those nursing graduates do not hold previous qualifications in economics.
In last Friday’s Financial Times Lex, a longstanding (and so far wrong-headed) bear of gold and its relevance, repeated his critique not just of the metal but of those who choose to invest in it:
“..gold is almost always just being held in order that it might later be sold, to a greater fool, at a profit.”
Which is rather presumptuous, not to say sweeping. It is also likely to alienate some of the FT’s core readership, many of whom earn a very comfortable living from their supposedly foolish speculations, not just in gold, but across all forms of financial assets. Lex concludes with a somewhat confused rationale for the late surge in the gold price:
“Gold has been a great investment recently, but psychology rather than supply and demand are responsible. Suggestions to the contrary come mostly from brokers and miners talking their own book.”
Surely supply and demand are the primary forces behind price action in all finite assets (we exclude paper currency which can be created on demand at negligible cost and which can therefore be considered, on a relative basis, to be infinite) – the role of psychological forces is no doubt significant, but it would be arrogant in the extreme to claim unique knowledge into the insight and actions of millions. But then that is the stock in trade of the financial journalist, so perhaps we should overlook such deductive peccadilloes.
What is harder to accept without question is Lex’s implicit assumption that gold is inferior to modern currency. As a wise friend recently reminded me, gold at any given time may or may not be a good investment, but it is always money. It is surely open to rational debate whether the trillions of dollars, pounds sterling, euros, and other fiat currencies currently being “printed” to stave off a deflationary depression represent anything approximating to a store of value. |