I think this is a great victory for progressive activists who pushed hard against a Summers nomination and shows again that being loud and active can show results.
The Export-Import Bank is facing the most serious threat to its existence in 80 years. What’s going on?
Congress is at the precipice of another ‘cliff’: The Export-Import Bank of the United States must be reauthorized by September, or it will have to close for the first time since it was created in 1934.
The fight over the bank is an esoteric one with confusing and shifting battle lines. While the Tea Party is currently pushing not to reauthorize the bank, a variety of ideological positions are coming into conflict. Now, after 80 years of largely uneventful reauthorization votes, there is a very real chance that the bank’s authority won’t be renewed.
This conflict might not seem relevant to the average person. But the fights over the Export-Import Bank have important implications about how trade policy should work in the 21st century. Here’s what you need to know to understand Congress’s latest battle:
What is the Export-Import Bank?
The ‘Ex-Im Bank,’ as it’s known, is a corporation owned entirely by the federal government. Technically located within the Executive Branch, but independently housed and operated by finance professionals, the bank’s mission is to boost American exports. To do that, it supplies various types of credit to U.S. businesses that need them to operate. Generally, the Ex-Im Bank supports transactions that private banks won’t finance, and that are guaranteed to support or create American jobs. The most common type of credit the bank supplies is loan guarantees (rather than outright cash lending) to foreign companies that buy things from U.S. businesses. By providing loan guarantees and other forms of indirect financing, the bank ensures that American exporters have customers who can pay to buy their goods.
The vast majority of the credit transactions the bank authorized in 2013 —89 percent — were in support of U.S. small businesses. But the vast majority of the dollar amount of credit authorized went to support much larger companies like Boeing, whose customers would otherwise not have bought so many of its planes. Still, small businesses who rely upon the bank for export insurance that private markets won’t provide say they would be left to shoulder the risk of losses should clients fail to pay.
The Ex-Im Bank costs taxpayers nothing, and actually returns revenue to the Treasury. The government turned a $1.057 billion profit on Ex-Im Bank activity last fiscal year. (Depending on which sort of accounting rules you go by, the bank will either make taxpayers $14 billion over the coming decade, cost them $2 billion, or perform somewhere in between.) The bank had a default rate below 0.25 percent last year on the various types of business credit it offers. Since it was created in the 1930s, it has an overall default rate below 2 percent.
Who wants to kill it?
The current push to block the bank’s reauthorization is coming fromhardline conservative groups like the Club for Growth and the Heritage Foundation. Both groups have pledged to use Ex-Im Bank reauthorization as a “key vote” in scoring the legislative records of lawmakers ahead of the midterm elections, and Americans for Prosperity has made similar threats. That pressure to oppose the bank from outside Congress is combining with the increasing ideological purity of the Republican Party within Congress to create a great deal of momentum against reauthorization.
When former Majority Leader and longtime supporter of Ex-Im reauthorization Eric Cantor (R-VA) lost his primary election, for example, and handed his seat to an unheralded Ayn Rand devotee and hardline supply-side ideologue who almost surely opposes the bank, the New York Times ran a front-page story on what Cantor’s loss meant for the bank and for American exports. “Eliminating the bank has become a conservative cause on par with repealing the Affordable Care Act,” the Times wrote. Cantor’s successor in the Majority Leader position, Kevin McCarthy, has announced that he opposes reauthorization of the bank.
What would happen if the Ex-Im Bank disappeared?
It’s tough to give a simple answer to that question, since the bank’s authorization has never been in serious jeopardy until now. But some numbers on the bank’s performance are instructive: Since the bank began calculating its impact on American jobs in 2010, it estimates that it has supported 1.2 million jobs in the country. The bank authorized a total of $27.3 billion in credit last year across more than 3,800 separate transactions, supporting a total of $37.4 billion worth of export sales by U.S. companies.
The evaporation of the support Ex-Im provides wouldn’t guarantee that all those jobs and all those business deals disappeared. But they would all be vulnerable. Since every other developed country in the world maintains some equivalent to the Ex-Im Bank to protect their own exporters, and voracious exporters like China are even more cutthroat than the Ex-Im Bank is allowed to be, it would become substantially more difficult for American companies to compete in the global marketplace.
The list of groups and individuals who have warned of economic consequences if the bank disappears includes the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, the National Association of Manufacturers, the White House, andTexas Gov. Rick Perry (R). Even Delta Airlines, which has long criticized the bank for putting domestic airlines at a disadvantage by helping foreign airlines to buy Boeing planes, has come around and indicated support for reauthorizing the bank.
How did the bank become political football?
Many different kinds of thinkers and analysts have wanted to end the Ex-Im Bank at one point or another in its nearly nine-decade history. Nobel Prize-winning economist and frequent progressive hero Paul Krugman opposes the bank in theory, but doesn’t want the bank wound down until the economy gets stronger. Fellow economist and liberal Dean Baker agrees that Ex-Im is primarily a protectionist entity that should not exist in a modern economic system. On the right, libertarian economists and free-market purists have long opposed the bank’s interference in the marketplace.
Some political institutions have been consistent in their ideological perspective on the bank, whether critical or supportive. But many of the individual politicians who determine the bank’s fate, on all sides of the political spectrum, have shifted according to the prevailing winds. Democrats in Congress and in the press, for example, derided the bank for decades for its role in propping up a variety of transactions that offended their values, including infrastructure deals that helped dictators to fossil fuel contracts. Meanwhile, since the vast majority of the monetary value of the bank’s work goes to giant corporations, politicians have repeatedly attacked Ex-Im as a fountain of corporate welfare. (Bank officials are quick to point out that the vast majority of the businesses for whom it secures credit are small companies.) The broad, though changing, opposition to the bank provides one of the clearest indicators of the bank’s precarious position today.
What are the chances the Ex-Im Bank really doesn’t get reauthorized?
Potentially imposing grievous harm both to a signature American manufacturer like Boeing and to an institution that has supported hundreds of thousands of jobs each year at businesses large and small alike without costing taxpayers anything may seem like enough to keep the Ex-Im Bank safe. After all, the bank’s value for protecting American business interests has always been enough in the past, and supporters today rightly note that other countries that maintain similar institutions to support their own industrial base are not going to lay down their economic arms if Ex-Im evaporates.
But it’s hard to see where the reauthorization votes will come from. Nearly 100 House Republicans voted “no” when the bank was up for reauthorization two years ago, and the pressure on their colleagues to join the opposition is much stronger now that prominent conservative organizations have promised to use the issue as a primary determinant of which candidates get their support during this November’s election. With 41 of his members backing the bank publicly, Speaker John Boehner (R-OH) could certainly still get a reauthorization bill passed if he were willing to rely on Democrats’ votes to pass something that the grassroots of his party increasingly detests. Business lobbyists from the Chamber of Commerce and other powerful groups will exert influence over the vote as well, and Boehner might ultimately get a large enough number of Republicans on board to be politically palatable.
With economists on the left opposing the Ex-Im Bank on principle, powerful electoral influencers on the right prepared to punish GOP dissenters, and sexy headlines about corruption and scandals at the bank threatening to drown out its public relations push, it is difficult to chart a path to reauthorization.
Source: Alan Pyke for ThinkProgress
Financial analyst and Fox Business contributor Charles Payne, who has been fined by the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), been paid to promote now virtually worthless penny stocks, and smeared the poor as “indebted servants” to the government who are too “comfortable” living in poverty, is being rewarded with his own show, the network announced today.
Fox Business said the show, Making Money with Charles Payne, will debut on June 2 in the evening. FBN executive vice president Kevin Mageepraised Payne as having “an incredible talent for identifying growth sectors in the markets and we’re excited to launch a new show dedicated to helping viewers spot these emerging investment prospects.”
That Payne has a talent for identifying growth may be a surprise to someone who followed some of Payne’s previous stock advice. After joining Fox in 2007, Payne was compensated to push the prospects of three stocks, as Media Matters documented in July 2013. Payne used his Fox credentials in promotional materials to assure skeptical investors that his advice was trustworthy. The stock of those companies are now virtually worthless:
- Payne was paid $40,000 to promote The Brainy Brands Company. Payne claimed on PaynesEarlyEducationStock.com that Brainy Brands could “help you profit 233%, turning $10,000 into $33,300.” The stock is now worthless.
- Payne was paid ”$25,000 by a third party” to promote NXT Nutritionals Holdings. Payne claimed NXT could “turn $10,000 into $25,000.” The stock is now worthless.
- Payne was paid an undisclosed amount for a “consulting arrangement” to promote Generex Biotechnology Corporate. Payne issued a report through his Fox-promoted website recommending Generex as a "long idea" for investors at $1.58. The stock now trades at less than 3 cents.
The practice of compensated stock endorsements is currently prohibited by Fox rules, and resulted in the contract termination of contributor Tobin Smith. Payne responded to inquiries from Media Matters by ducking questions and scrubbing his corporate website of information.
Payne and his company, Wall Street Strategies, have a problematic history related to the proper disclosure of stock recommendations. In 1999, the SEC announced that while not “admitting or denying” wrongdoings, Payne “agreed to pay a civil penalty of $25,000.” The SEC alleged of Payne:
Charles V. Payne is a resident of New York, New York and is the President of Wall Street Strategies, Inc. The Complaint alleges that on at least eight occasions, Wall Street Strategies recommended that its clients purchase Members stock through recorded messages on its telephonic stock recommendation service. The Complaint also alleges that Payne failed to disclose that he received payments from Members to promote Members stock. Without admitting or denying the alleged violations, Payne consented to the entry of a permanent injunction against violations of Section 17(b) of the Securities Act of 1933. In addition, Payne agreed to pay a civil penalty of $25,000.
Wall Street Strategies, Inc. is based in New York City. Without admitting or denying the alleged violations, Wall Street Strategies, Inc. consented to the entry of a permanent injunction against violations of Section 17(b) of the Securities Act of 1933. In addition, the company agreed to pay a civil penalty of $10,000.
- attacked poor Americans as “indebted servants” who believe society “owes” them.
- said men who receive Social Security disability benefits are “modern-day eunuchs.”
- criticized anti-poverty programs because “it gets a little comfortable to be in poverty.”
- defended billionaire venture capitalist Tom Perkins after he compared the treatment of wealthy Americans to what happened in “fascist Nazi Germany.”
- claimed progressivism “fuels high drug addiction, crime rates.”
- lamented that there isn’t enough “stigma” surrounding food stamps.
- opined that wealth disparity “really doesn’t” bother him — “in fact, it inspires me.”
- explained that after Thanksgiving people “take their welfare checks and bum rush” Wal-Mart.
Payne joins a Fox Business lineup that includes a shock jock who called women’s basketball players “nappy-headed hos,” a host who enjoys "being mean to poor people," and John Stossel. In other words, Making Money with Charles Payne will probably fit in well with the network and its mission to be a “more business friendly” channel.
h/t: Eric Hanaoki at MMFA
The Senate confirmed Janet Yellen as the first woman to head the Federal Reserve on Monday.
Yellen, who is succeeding Ben Bernanke, has been vice chair of the U.S. central bank since 2010.
The Senate voted 56-26 to approve Yellen.
After months of speculation, it’s official: Janet Yellen will succeed Bernanke as the next Fed chair, the White House said late Tuesday.
If approved by the Senate, her appointment would crack one of the highest U.S. glass ceilings and make her the first woman to head the central bank in its 100-year history.
A good win for liberals/progressives.
It’s long been suspected that ratings agencies like Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s helped trigger the meltdown. A new trove of embarrassing documents shows how they did it
by Matt TaibbiJUNE 19, 2013
What about the ratings agencies?
That’s what “they” always say about the financial crisis and the teeming rat’s nest of corruption it left behind. Everybody else got plenty of blame: the greed-fattened banks, the sleeping regulators, the unscrupulous mortgage hucksters like spray-tanned Countrywide ex-CEO Angelo Mozilo.
But what about the ratings agencies? Isn’t it true that almost none of the fraud that’s swallowed Wall Street in the past decade could have taken place without companies like Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s rubber-stamping it? Aren’t they guilty, too?
Man, are they ever. And a lot more than even the least generous of us suspected.
Thanks to a mountain of evidence gathered for a pair of major lawsuits by the San Diego-based law firm Robbins Geller Rudman & Dowd, documents that for the most part have never been seen by the general public, we now know that the nation’s two top ratings companies, Moody’s and S&P, have for many years been shameless tools for the banks, willing to give just about anything a high rating in exchange for cash.
In incriminating e-mail after incriminating e-mail, executives and analysts from these companies are caught admitting their entire business model is crooked.
“Lord help our fucking scam . . . this has to be the stupidest place I have worked at,” writes one Standard & Poor’s executive. “As you know, I had difficulties explaining ‘HOW’ we got to those numbers since there is no science behind it,” confesses a high-ranking S&P analyst. “If we are just going to make it up in order to rate deals, then quants [quantitative analysts] are of precious little value,” complains another senior S&P man. “Let’s hope we are all wealthy and retired by the time this house of card[s] falters,” ruminates one more.
Ratings agencies are the glue that ostensibly holds the entire financial industry together. These gigantic companies – also known as Nationally Recognized Statistical Rating Organizations, or NRSROs – have teams of examiners who analyze companies, cities, towns, countries, mortgage borrowers, anybody or anything that takes on debt or creates an investment vehicle.
Their primary function is to help define what’s safe to buy, and what isn’t. A triple-A rating is to the financial world what the USDA seal of approval is to a meat-eater, or virginity is to a Catholic. It’s supposed to be sacrosanct, inviolable: According to Moody’s own reports, AAA investments “should survive the equivalent of the U.S. Great Depression.”
It’s not a stretch to say the whole financial industry revolves around the compass point of the absolutely safe AAA rating. But the financial crisis happened because AAA ratings stopped being something that had to be earned and turned into something that could be paid for.
That this happened is even more amazing because these companies naturally have powerful leverage over their clients, as they are part of a quasi-protected industry that enjoys massive de facto state subsidies. Largely that’s because government agencies like the Securities and Exchange Commission often force private companies to fulfill regulatory requirements by retaining or keeping in reserve certain fixed quantities of assets – bonds, securities, whatever – that have been rated highly by a “Nationally Recognized” ratings agency, like the “Big Three” of Moody’s, S&P and Fitch. So while they’re not quite part of the official regulatory infrastructure, they might as well be.
It’s not like the iniquity of the ratings agencies had gone completely unnoticed before. The Financial Crisis Inquiry Commission published a case study in 2011 of Moody’s in particular and discovered that between 2000 and 2007, the agency gave nearly 45,000 mortgage-backed securities AAA ratings. One year Moody’s doled out AAA ratings to 30 mortgage-backed securities every day, 83 percent of which were ultimately downgraded. “This crisis could not have happened without the rating agencies,” the commission concluded.
Thanks to these documents, we now know how that happened. And showing as they do the back-and-forth between the country’s top ratings agencies and one of America’s biggest investment banks (Morgan Stanley) in advance of two major subprime deals, they also lay out in detail the evolution of the industrywide fraud that led to implosion of the world economy – how banks, hedge funds, mortgage lenders and ratings agencies, working at an extraordinary level of cooperation, teamed up to disguise and then sell near-worthless loans as AAA securities. It’s the black box in the American financial airplane.
In April, Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s settled the lawsuits for a reported $225 million. Brought by a diverse group of institutional plaintiffs with King County, Washington, and the Abu Dhabi Commercial Bank taking the lead, the suits accused the ratings agencies of conspiring in the mid-to-late 2000s with Morgan Stanley to fraudulently induce heavy investment into a pair of doomed-to-implode subprime-laden deals, called Cheyne and Rhinebridge.
Stock prices for both companies soared at the settlement, with markets believing the firms would be spared the hell of reams of embarrassing evidence thrust into public view at trial. But in a quirk, an earlier judge’s ruling had already made most of the documents in the case public. Although a few news outlets, including The New York Times, took note at the time, the vast majority of the material was never reported, and some was never seen by reporters at all. The cases revolved around a highly exotic and complex financial instrument called a SIV, or structured investment vehicle.
The SIV is a not-so-distant cousin of the special purpose entity, or SPE, which was the main weapon of destruction in the Enron scandal. The corporate scam du jour in those days was mass accounting fraud, in which a company would create an ostensibly independent corporate structure that would actually be controlled by its own executives, who would then move their company’s liabilities off their own books and onto the remote-controlled SPE, hiding the firm’s losses.
The SIV is a similar concept. They first started showing up in the late Eighties after banks discovered a loophole in international banking standards that allowed them to create SPE-like repositories full of assets like mortgage-backed securities and keep them off their own books.
These behemoths operated on the same basic concept as an ordinary bank, which borrows short-term cash from depositors and then lends money long-term in the form of things like mortgages, business loans, etc. The SIV did the same thing, borrowing short-term from investors and then investing long-term on things like student loans, car loans, subprime mortgages. Like banks, a SIV made money on the spread between its short-term debt and long-term investments. If a SIV borrowed on the commercial paper market at 3 percent but earned 6.5 percent on subprime mortgages, that was an easy 3.5 percent profit.
The big difference is a bank has regulatory capital requirements. A SIV doesn’t, and being technically independent, its potential liabilities don’t show up on the books of the megabank that created it. So the SIV structure allowed investment banks to create and take advantage of, without risk, billions of dollars of things like subprime loans, which became the centerpiece of the new trendy corporate scam – creating and then selling masses of risky mortgage-backed securities as AAA investments to institutional suckers.
Ratings agencies helped this game along in two ways. First, banks needed them to sign off on the bogus math of the subprime era – the math that allowed banks to turn pools of home loans belonging to people so broke they couldn’t even afford down payments into securities with higher credit ratings than corporations with billions of dollars in assets. But banks also needed the ratings agencies to sign off on the safety and reliability of these off-balance-sheet SIV structures.
The first of the two SIVs in question was dreamed up by a London-based hedge fund called Cheyne Capital Management (pronounced like Dick “Cheney”), run by an ex-Morgan Stanley banker duo who hired their old firm to build and stock this vast floating Death Star of subprime loans.
Morgan Stanley had multiple motives for putting together the Cheyne deal. For one thing, it earned what the bank’s lead structurer affectionately called “big fat upfront fees,” which bank executives estimated would eventually add up to $25 million or $30 million. It was a lucrative business, and the top dogs wanted the deal badly. “I am very focused on . . . getting this deal done to get NY to stop freaking out” and “to make our money,” said Robert Rooney, the senior Morgan Stanley executive on the deal. A spokesman for Morgan Stanley, however, told Rolling Stone, “Our sole economic interest was in the ongoing success of the SIV.”
But that wasn’t Morgan Stanley’s only motive. Not only could the bank make the “big fat upfront fees” for structuring the deal, they could also turn around and sell scads of their own mortgage-backed securities to the SIV, which in turn would be marketed to investors like Abu Dhabi and King County. In Cheyne, 25 percent of the original assets in the deal came from Morgan Stanley – over time, $2 billion of the SIV’s $9 billion to $10 billion portfolio of assets came from the bank as well.
Internal Morgan Stanley memorandums show that the bank knowingly stuffed mortgages in the SIV whose borrowers were, to say the least, highly suspect. “The real issue is that the loan requests do not make sense,” complained a Morgan Stanley employee back in 2005. He noted loans had been made to a “tarot reading house” operator who claimed to make $12,000 a month, and a “knock off gold club distributor” who claimed to make $16,000 a month. “Compound these issues,” he groaned, “with the fact that we are seeing what I would call a lot of this type of profile.”
No matter – into the soup it went! Morgan sold mountains of this crap into Cheyne’s SIV, where it was destined to be sold off to other suckers down the line. The only thing that could possibly get in the way of the scam was some pesky ratings agency.
Fortunately for the bank and the hedge fund, these subprime SIVs were a relatively new kind of investment product, so the ratings agencies had little to go on in the area of historical data to measure these products. One might think this would make the ratings agencies more conservative. In fact, caution in the face of the unknown was supposed to be a core value for these companies. As Moody’s put it, “Triple-A structures should not be highly dependent on untestable assumptions.”
But when it came to the Cheyne SIV, Moody’s punted on caution. In an e-mail sent to executives from both Morgan Stanley and Cheyne in May 2005, David Rosa, a Moody’s senior analyst, admitted that when it came to this SIV, he had nothing to go on.
“Please note that in relation to assumed spread [volatility] for the Aa and A there is no actual data backing up the current model assumptions,” he wrote. In lieu of such data, he went on, “We will for now accept the proposal to use the same levels as [residential mortgage-backed securities] given that this assumption is supported by the analysis of the Aaa data . . . and Cheyne’s comments on their views of this asset class.”
Translation: We have no historical data, so we’ll just accept your reasoning for the time being, even though you have every incentive in the world to lie about the quality of your product.
At one point, a Morgan Stanley analyst even claimed that the bank had written, in Moody’s name, an entire 12-page “New Issue Report” for the Cheyne SIV – a kind of ratings summary in which Morgan Stanley appears to have given itself AAA ratings for large chunks of the deal. “I attach the Moody’s NIR (that we ended up writing),” yawns Morgan Stanley fixed-income employee Rany Moubarak in a March 2006 e-mail. The attached document came proudly affixed with the “Moody’s Investors Service” logo. (Both Moody’s and Morgan Stanley deny that anyone other than Moody’s wrote that report.)
Morgan Stanley ended up getting both Moody’s and S&P to rate the deal, and that was not only common, it was basically industry practice. There were many reasons for this, but a big one was a concept called “notching,” in which the agencies gave ratings penalties to any instrument that had not been rated by their own company. If a SIV contained a basket of mortgage-backed securities rated AA by Standard & Poor’s, Moody’s might “notch” those underlying securities down to A, or even lower. This incentivized the banks to hire as many ratings agencies as possible to rate every investment vehicle they created.
Again, despite the fact that the ratings agencies enjoyed broad quasi-official subsidies, and despite the powerful market leverage that techniques like “notching” gave them, they still routinely chose to roll over for banks. And the biggest companies were equally guilty. In the case of the Cheyne deal, Standard & Poor’s was every bit as craven as Moody’s.
In September 2004, an S&P analyst named Lapo Guadagnuolo sent an e-mail to Stephen McCabe, the agency’s lead “quant” on the Cheyne deal, who apparently was on vacation. The e-mail chain was mostly a bunch of office gossip, where the two men e-whispered about an employee who was about to quit. But sandwiched in the office banter was an offhand line about the Cheyne deal and how full of shit it was. “Hi Steve!” Guadagnuolo wrote cheerily, adding, “How is Australia and how was Thailand????Back to [Cheyne] . . . As you know, I had difficulties explaining ‘HOW’ we got to those numbers since there is no science behind it . . .
“Thanks and regards . . . have you heard that [redacted] has resigned . . . and somebody else will follow suit today!!”
McCabe, blowing off the “no science behind it” comment, answered eagerly, “Who, Who, Who????” The quadruple question mark must be an S&P-ism.
A month later, McCabe seemed more concerned about the lack of science in the Cheyne deal. He complained in an e-mail to his boss, Kai Gilkes, who was the agency’s senior quantitative analyst in Europe.
“From looking at the numbers it is quite obvious that we have just stuck our preverbal [sic] finger in the air!!” he fumed.
Gilkes was experiencing his own crisis of conscience by mid-2005, complaining in an oddly wistful e-mail to another S&P employee that the good old days of just giving things the ratings they deserved were disappearing. “Remember the dream of being able to defend the model with sound empirical research?” he wrote on June 17th, 2005. “If we are just going to make it up in order to rate deals, then quants are of precious little value.”
Frank Parisi, Standard & Poor’s chief credit officer for structured finance, was even more downtrodden, saying that the model that his company used to rate residential mortgage-backed securities in 2005 and 2006 was only marginally more accurate than “if you just simply flipped a coin.”
Given all of this, why would top analysts from both Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s rate such a massive deal like Cheyne without any science to back it up? The answer was simple: money. In the old days, ratings agencies lived on subscriptions sold to investors, meaning they were compensated – indirectly, incidentally – by the people buying the financial products.
But over time, that model morphed into the current “issuer pays” model, in which a company like Moody’s or Standard & Poor’s is paid directly by the “issuer” – i.e., the company that is actually making the financial product.
For Cheyne, for instance, the agencies were paid in the area of $1 million to $1.5 million to rate the deal by Morgan Stanley, the very company with an interest in getting a high rating. It’s the ultimate in negative incentives, and was and continues to be a major impediment to honest analysis on Wall Street. Michigan Sen. Carl Levin, one of the few lawmakers to focus on reforming the ratings agencies after the crash, put it this way: “It’s like one of the parties in court paying the judge’s salary.”
Thanks to this model, ratings-agency business soared during the bubble era. A Senate report found that fees for the “Big Three” doubled between 2002 and 2007, from $3 billion to $6 billion. Fees for rating mortgage-backed securities at both Moody’s and S&P nearly quadrupled.
So there were powerful incentives to whitewash deals like Cheyne. The eventual president of Moody’s, Brian Clarkson, actually copped to this awful truth in writing, in a 2004 internal e-mail. “To put it bluntly,” he wrote, “the issuer could take its business elsewhere unless the rating agency provides a higher rating.”
Both Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s employees described complex/exotic new financial products like CDOs and SIVs as “cash cows,” and behind closed doors, executives talked openly about the financial pressure to give scientifically unfounded analysis to products the banks wanted to sell.
The minutes from a 2007 conference of Standard & Poor’s executives show that the raters knew they were in way over their heads. Admitting that it was virtually impossible to accurately rate, say, a synthetic derivative loan deal with underlying assets in China and Russia, one executive candidly admits, “We do not have the capacity nor the skills in house to rate something like this.” Another counters, “Market pressures have significantly risen due to ‘hot money.’” The first retorts that bankers are pushing boundaries, asking the raters to help them play the highly cynical hot-potato game, in which bad loans are originated en masse and then instantly passed off to suckers who will take on all the risk. “Bankers say why not originate bad loans, there is no penalty,” the executive muses.
Hilariously – or tragically, depending on your point of view – an S&P executive at the conference even tossed off a quick visual sketch of their company’s moral quandary. The picture is atrociously drawn (it looks like a junior high school student’s rendering of a ganglion cell) and comes across like the Wall Street version of Hamlet, showing the industry traveling down a road and reaching a “Choice Point” crossroads, where the two options are “To Rate” and “Not Rate.”
The former – basically taking the money and just rating whatever crap the banks toss their way – is crudely depicted as a wide, “well marked super highway.” Meanwhile the honorable thing, not rating shitty investments, is shown to be a skinny little roadlet, marked “Dark and narrow path less traveled.”
Obviously, the ratings agencies like S&P ultimately decided to take the road more traveled, choosing profits over scruples. Not that there wasn’t some token resistance at first. For instance, some at S&P hesitated to allow the use of a questionable technique called “grandfathering,” in which old and outdated rating models were used to rate newly issued investments.
In one damning e-mail chain in November 2005, a Morgan Stanley banker complains to an S&P executive named Elwyn Wong that S&P was preventing him from putting S&P ratings on Morgan Stanley deals that used this grandfathering technique. “My business is on ‘pause’ right now,” the banker complains.
Wong took the news that S&P was holding up deals over the grandfathering issue badly. “Lord help our fucking scam,” he said. “This has to be the stupidest place I have worked at.” Wong, incidentally, was later hired by the U.S. Office of the Comptroller Currency, our top federal banking regulator.
The purists, however, couldn’t hold out for long. In the Cheyne case, when one of the “quants” tried to hold the line, Morgan Stanley went over their heads to someone on the business side at the company to get the rating it wanted.
In July 2004, for instance, analyst Lapo Guadagnuolo sent an e-mail to Morgan Stanley’s point man on the Cheyne deal, Gregg Drennan, and told him that the best he could do for the “mezzanine capital notes” or “MCN” piece of the SIV – a piece that Drennan wanted at least an A rating for – was BBB-plus. Drennan responded in an e-mail that CC’d Guadagnuolo’s boss, Perry Inglis, telling him that Morgan Stanley “believe[s] the position the committee is taking is very inappropriate.”
Ultimately, the analyst committee agreed to give the dubious Mezzanine Notes an A rating, marking the first time these middle-tier investments in a SIV ever received a public A rating. For Wall Street, this was occasion to par-tay. In the summer of 2005, one of the Cheyne hedge-funders sent out a celebratory e-mail to Morgan Stanley execs, bragging about getting the ratings companies to cave. “It is an amazing set of feats to move the rating agencies so far,” the hedgie wrote. “We all do all this for one thing and I hope promotions are a given. Let’s hope big bonuses are to follow.”
Later on, S&P caved even further, agreeing to allow Morgan Stanley to lower the “capital buffer” in the deal protecting investors without suffering a ratings penalty. As late as February 1st, 2006, Guadagnuolo was defiantly telling Morgan Stanley that the one-percent buffer was a “pillar of our analysis.” But by the next day, Morgan Stanley executive Moubarak had chopped Guadagnuolo’s knees out. He cheerfully announced in a group e-mail that the bank had managed to remove this “pillar” and get the buffer knocked down to .75 percent.
Tina Sprinz, who worked for the Cheyne hedge fund, sent an e-mail that very day to Moubarak, thanking him for straightening out the pesky analysts. “Thanks for negotiating that,” she says. The ratings process shouldn’t be a “negotiation,” yet this word appears throughout these documents.
In the Cheyne deal, just the plaintiffs in the lawsuit invested a total of $980 million in “rated notes,” and those who invested in these “MCNs” were completely wiped out. Analysts from both agencies would express regret and/or trepidation about their roles in unleashing the monster deals and their failure to stop the business-side suits running the companies from selling them out. Gilkes, the S&P analyst who worried about shunning real science in favor of just making things up, later testified that the subprime assets in such SIVs were “not appropriate.”
“They should not have been rated,” he said.
If the significance of Cheyne is that it showed how the ratings agencies sold out in an effort to get business, the significance of the next deal, Rhinebridge, is that it showed how low they were willing to stoop to keep that business.
Rhinebridge was a subprime-packed SIV structured very much like Cheyne, only both the quality of the underlying crap in the SIV and the timing of the SIV’s launch were significantly more horrible than even Cheyne’s.
Not only did Morgan Stanley insist that the ratings agencies allow the bank to pack Rhinebridge full of a much higher quantity of subprime than in the Cheyne deal, they were also pushing this massive blob of toxic mortgages at a time when the subprime market was already approaching full collapse.
In fact, the Rhinebridge deal would launch with high ratings from both agencies on June 27th, 2007, less than two weeks before both Moody’s and S&P would downgrade hundreds of subprime mortgage-backed securities. In other words, both Moody’s and S&P were almost certainly in the process of downgrading the underlying assets in the Rhinebridge SIV even as they were preparing to launch Rhinebridge with AAA-rated notes.
“It was the briefest AAA rating in history,” says the plaintiffs’ lawyer Dan Drosman. “Rhinebridge went from AAA to junk in a matter of months.”
There is an enormous documentary record in both agencies showing that analysts and executives knew a bust was coming long before they sent Rhinebridge out into the world with a AAA label. As early as 2005, S&P was talking in internal memorandums about a “bubble” in the real-estate markets, and in 2006 it knew that there had been “rampant appraisal and underwriting fraud for quite some time,” causing “rising delinquencies” and “nightmare mortgages.”
In June 2007, the same month Rhinebridge was launched, S&P’s Board of Directors Report talked about a total collapse of the market. “The meltdown of the subprime-mortgage market will increase both foreclosures and the overhang of homes for sale.”
It was no better at Moody’s, where in June 2007, executives were internally discussing “increased amounts of lying on income” and “increased amounts of occupancy misstatements” in mortgage applications. Clarkson, who would become president two months later, was told the week before Rhinebridge launched that “most players in the market” believed subprime would “perform extremely poorly,” and that the problems were “quite serious.”
Yet the two ratings agencies not only kept those concerns private, they both took outlandish steps to declare just the opposite.
In a pair of matching public papers, both Moody’s and S&P proclaimed that summer that while subprime might be going to hell, subprime-packed investments like SIVs might be just fine. The Moody’s report on July 18th read “SIVs: An Oasis of Calm in the Sub-prime Maelstrom,” while an S&P report on August 14th, 2007, was titled “Report Says SIV Ratings Are Weathering Current Market Disruptions.”
The S&P report was so brazen that it even shocked a Morgan Stanley banker involved in the SIV deals. “I cannot believe these morons would reaffirm in this market,” chortled the banker in an e-mail the day after the paper was released.
Rhinebridge, cheyne and a hell of a lot of other subprime investments ultimately blew to smithereens, taking with them vast amounts of cash – 40 percent of the world’s wealth was wiped out in the aftermath of the mortgage bubble, according to some estimates. 2008 was to the American economy what 9/11 was to national security. Yet while 9/11 prompted the U.S. government to tear up half the Constitution in the name of public safety, after 2008, authorities went in the other direction. If you can imagine a post-9/11 scenario where there were no metal detectors at airports and people could walk on carrying chain saws and meat cleavers, you get a rough idea of what was done to reform the ratings process.
Specifically, very little was done to change the way AAA ratings are created – the “issuer pays” model still exists, and the “Big Three” retain roughly the same market share. An effort by Minnesota Sen. Al Franken to change the compensation model through a new approach under which agencies would be assigned to rate new issues through a government agency passed overwhelmingly in the Senate, but in the House it was relegated to a study by the SEC – which released its findings last year, calling for . . . more study. “The conflict of interest still exists in the exact same way,” says a frustrated Franken.
The companies by now are all the way back in black. In 2012, for instance, Moody’s profits soared 22 percent, to $1.18 billion. McGraw-Hill, the parent company of Standard & Poor’s, scored $437 million in profits last year, with the rating business accounting for 70 percent of the company’s profits.
In February, the Obama Justice Department, in an action that seems belated, filed a $5 billion civil suit against Standard & Poor’s, drawing upon some of the same data and documents that were part of the Cheyne and Rhinebridge suits. As part of that action, high-ranking officials at S&P were interviewed by government investigators and admitted that they had shaded their ratings methodologies to protect market share. In this deposition of Richard Gugliada, head of S&P’s CDO operations, the government asks why the company was slow to implement updates to its model for evaluating CDOs:
Q: Is it fair to say that Standard & Poor’s goal of preserving an increasing market share and profits from ratings fees influence the development of the updates to the CDO evaluator?
A: In part, correct.
Q: The main reason to avoid a reduction in the noninvestment grade ratings business was to preserve S&P’s market share in that category, correct?
Years after the crash, it’s a little insulting to see industry analysts blithely copping under oath to having traded science for market share, especially since the companies continue to protest to the contrary in public. Contacted for this story, Moody’s and S&P insisted many of the documents in this case were simply taken out of context, and that their analysis throughout has been rigorous, objective and independent.
It’s a thin defense, but it’s holding – for now. McGraw-Hill stock plunged nearly 14 percent when news of the Justice Department suit leaked, and dropped nearly 19 percent for February, but has since regained much of its value – its stock rose nearly 16 percent in March and April, as markets reacted favorably to, among other things, its recent settlement of the Cheyne and Rhinebridge suits. The markets clearly think the ratings agencies will survive.
What’s amazing about this is that even without a mass of ugly documentary evidence proving their incompetence and corruption, these firms ought to be out of business. Even if they just accidentally sucked this badly, that should be enough to persuade the markets to look to a different model, different companies, different ratings methodologies.
But we know now that it was no accident. What happened to the ratings agencies during the financial crisis, and what is likely still happening within their walls, is a phenomenon as old as business itself. Given a choice between money and integrity, they took the money. Which wouldn’t be quite so bad if they weren’t in the integrity business.
This story is from the July 4 - July 18, 2013 issue of Rolling Stone
Working out of an nondescript brick rowhouse in suburban Virginia, a little-known organization named Donors Trust, staffed by five employees, has steered hundreds of millions of dollars to the most influential think tanks, foundations, and advocacy groups in the conservative movement. Over the past decade, it has funded the right’s assault on labor unions, climate scientists, public schools, economic regulations, and the very premise of activist government. Yet unlike its nearest counterpart on the progressive side, the Tides Foundation, a bogeyman of Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly, Donors Trust has mostly avoided any real scrutiny. It is the dark-money ATM of the right.
Founded in 1999, Donors Trust (and an affiliated group, Donors Capital Fund) has raised north of $500 million and doled out $400 million to more than 1,000 conservative and libertarian groups, according to Whitney Ball, the group’s CEO. Donors Trust allows wealthy contributors who want to donate millions to the most important causes on the right to do so anonymously, essentially scrubbing the identity of those underwriting conservative and libertarian organizations. Wisconsin’s 2011 assault on collective bargaining rights? Donors Trust helped fund that. ALEC, the conservative bill mill? Donors Trust supports it. The climate deniers at the Heartland Institute? They get Donors Trust money, too.
Donors Trust is not the source of the money it hands out. Some 200 right-of-center funders who’ve given at least $10,000 fill the group’s coffers. Charities bankrolled by Charles and David Koch, the DeVoses, and the Bradleys, among other conservative benefactors, have given to Donors Trust. And other recipients of Donors Trust money include the Heritage Foundation, Grover Norquist’s Americans for Tax Reform, the NRA’s Freedom Action Foundation, the Cato Institute, the American Enterprise Institute, the Federalist Society, and the Americans for Prosperity Foundation, chaired (PDF) by none other than David Koch.
In a recent interview, Ball, who calls herself a libertarian, went to great lengths to stress that she’s no Koch brothers stooge, and that Donors Trust is not yet another appendage of the almighty "Kochtopus." She insists, “We were not created by them at all.”
Donors Trust is a so-called "donor-advised fund," a breed apart from a family foundation like, say, the Lynde and Harry Bradley Foundation, which helped build the conservative movement over decades with donations totaling tens of millions of dollars. The people who donate to Donors Trust don’t get final say over how their money is spent. But they get to recommend where their cash goes, and in exchange for giving up some control, they get a bigger tax write-off than they would with a family foundation. (And those who wish it get anonymity.)
Ball says she travels all over the country courting wealthy conservatives and libertarians, and attends Koch donor retreats and Cato “shareholder” meetings. The crux of her pitch is this: Rich folks can give to Donors Trust and rest easy knowing that their millions will continue bankrolling the conservative movement long into the future, even after their death.
Donors Trust grew out of the fear among right-leaning donors that their family foundations might end up in the hands of those who would fund centrist or, even worse, left-of-center causes. At the behest of the late Bruce Jacobs, a Seattle-area businessman and “paleocon” who didn’t want to underwrite a local community foundation, Ball and a conservative strategist named Kimberly Dennis created Donors Trust.
Donors Trust is the only honey-pot of its kind for right-leaning donors. But on the left, there’s theTides Foundation, which gives out tens of millions of dollars each year to thousands of left-leaning groups in the US and overseas (including Mother Jones' nonprofit arm, the Foundation for National Progress). Tides is a target of conspiracy theorists such as TV and radio host Glenn Beck, who hasfeatured Tides on his infamous connect-the-dots chalkboard. But Donors Trust’s strategic intent is far narrower and more coherent than Tides’. The groups funded by Donors Trust more or less pursue the same agenda—eliminate regulations, kneecap unions, shrink government, and transfer more power to the private sector.
Donors Trust keeps its contributors secret. Funders can ask Donor Trust to publicly identify their donations, but very few do, Ball says. The reasons for preferring anonymity are many. Some donors want to avoid attention; others don’t want their mailboxes and inboxes filling up with unwanted solicitations for more money.
Tax records, however, reveal some of the sugar-daddies of the conservative and libertarian movement who funnel big money through Donors Trust. The Knowledge and Progress Fund, a charity bankrolled by Charles Koch, gave $2 million in 2010. The DeVos family charity, another pillar of conservative politics, contributed $1 million in 2009 and $1.5 million in 2010. And yet another long-time bankroller of conservative politics, the Bradley family, donated $650,000 through their charity between 2001 and 2010.
h/t: Mother Jones
Sen.-elect Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.)—the visionary behind the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, the former bailout watchdog, and no friend of Wall Street—has reportedly snagged a seat on the powerful Senate banking committee, which writes the regulations for the banking industry.
The Huffington Post, citing four sources “familiar with the situation,” says Warren has locked up a seat on the committee. Politico confirmed the news soon after. Warren’s spot on the committee must still be approved by the Senate Democratic caucus, which is expected to happen. The news comes after Mother Jones reported last month that big banks and their lobbyists in Washington were pushing to keep Warren off the committee.
Senate Democrats had two open seats to fill on the banking committee, with the upcoming retirements of Sens. Daniel Akaka (D-Hawaii) and Herb Kohl (D-Wisc.). Warren will get one of those seats. The other, the Huffington Post reports, will go Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.).
Warren to nab powerful committee seat? According to several Senate sources, Senator-elect and populist hero Elizabeth Warren has a good chance of getting a seat on the powerful Senate Banking Committee. This is a logical fit for Warren, architect of the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, and would give her great power in her efforts to curb deceptive and unscrupulous practices on the part of financial institutions. “[G]iven her prominent work on those issues, she would certainly have a very good shot” at getting a spot on the committee, an aide tells Reuters. Having Warren on Banking is essentially the Republicans’ worst nightmare, but it’s worth noting that it’s a nightmare entirely of their own short-sighted construction. source