Posts Tagged ‘CDOs’

The Great Read-cession, Part VIII

Crash of the TitansOn the eighth day, John S reviewed two more books of the financial crisis, including the final report of the Financial Crisis Inquiry Report.

Crash of the Titans: Greed, Hubris, The Fall of Merrill Lynch, and the Near-Collapse of Bank of America

by Greg Farrell 2010

 

Having read accounts of the failures of Bear Stearns and Lehman Brothers, it seemed appropriate to read a book about the third investment bank claimed by the financial crisis: Merrill Lynch. Of course, Merrill Lynch didn’t fail outright—it was sold to Bank of America, making the story slightly more complex. Greg Farrell’s book, Crash of the Titans, is really a soap opera about how two banks ended up in a reluctant and unhappy marriage.

The first step towards this malignant matrimony was the downfall of Merrill Lynch. Merrill Lynch occupied an odd position on Wall Street. On the one hand, it’s probably the investment bank normal people are the most familiar with, thanks to its “thundering herd” of brokers. On the other hand, it suffered from a clear inferiority complex for not being as profitable or as elite as Goldman Sachs or Morgan Stanley.

In its quest to catch Goldman Sachs, Merrill Lynch became one of the leaders in the CDO market, holding more CDO assets than any other bank. As the housing bubble inflated, this led a streak of immense profitability, but the lust for profits blinded many Merrill executives to the risks they were exposed to. Continue reading

The Great Read-cession, Part II

Too Big To FailIt’s Part II of John’s attempt to read every single book on the financial crisis of 2008. Check out Part I here if you missed yesterday’s introduction. Today we talk about the two most famous books the crisis produced.

Too Big To Fail: The Inside Story of How Wall Street and Washington Fought to Save The Financial System—And Themselves*

by Andrew Ross Sorkin, 2009

 

*See? I warned you about those subtitles…

The first book I read was probably the most famous book on the subject of the financial disaster. Sorkin’s book was an award-winning best seller, and it was adapted into an HBO film. It also has the most iconic name.

It’s easy to understand why TBTF was such a hit: The book is essentially a thriller, depicting the days and months of greatest turmoil. It’s not so much about the causes of the crisis as it is about the disastrous results.

Sorkin embraces the thriller-quality of his narrative, and he does it very well. The book is excellent at setting scenes and introducing a myriad of characters. His scenes are short—rarely more than two pages long—and colorful, with lots of detail and dialogue. Although there are over 150 people introduced (there is a helpful eight-page Cast List in the front of the book), Sorkin does an excellent job of making them all seem unique—a difficult task, since almost all are rich, middle-aged white guys. He includes just enough backstory to provide context and make them seem like real people, without weighing down his narrative.

The narrative begins in March 2008, with the bailout of Bear Stearns. Sorkin doesn’t spend much time on the specifics of that deal—in which the Fed guaranteed $30 billion of assets in exchange for JP Morgan buying the firm for $2 a share*—but instead focuses on the ripple effect of the deal. There is some irony, of course, in this ripple effect: The main reason the Fed intervened in the Bear Stearns failure was to prevent the failure from infecting other firms. Instead, all the Fed did was replace one ripple effect with another. Continue reading

The Great Read-cession: Books of the Financial Crisis

It's been five years since Lehman's demise

Introduction

 

Sometime during 2011, essentially on a whim, I decided that I wanted to read every book written on the subject of the financial crisis of 2007-08.

What would motivate someone to undertake such a project? Eh, who knows why people do the things they do? As far as I can remember, I had two main motives: one general and one specific.

Generally, I’ve always had a vague desire to pick one subject and just read everything I could about it. Whenever I read a work of nonfiction, no matter how good or thorough it is, I have this feeling that I’m only getting some of the story. I’m only seeing reality as filtered through the author. The stories told are the ones the author found interesting; the opinions featured are the ones of this writer’s sources; the quotes are the ones he happened to write down. Even the most evenhanded and objective writer retains some biases, if only due to the natural limitations on research and reporting. When I read nonfiction, I always feel keenly aware of this. As a result, a book that’s supposed to inform me often ends up highlighting what I still don’t know.

This problem doesn’t really have a solution—nobody can be a firsthand witness to everything—but reading the same story multiple times is at least a better approximation of reality than reading it just once. After all, the police don’t stop the investigation after interviewing one witness. Of course, there’s a reason most people don’t read this way: It is, by design, very, very repetitive. You’d end up reading slightly different versions of the same story over and over again, intentionally making a leisure activity less fun.

Nevertheless, the cumulative nagging of years of nonfiction motivated me to at least try this method once. No matter the subject, I felt like the experiment would at least give me a better sense of the systemic biases of nonfiction.

Which brings me to the specific reason of why this subject. Continue reading