By Greg Ip
When I started covering the Federal Reserve in 2001, Paul
Volcker had long since left the building, and yet he was
everywhere. Every time he spoke, he made news.
Troubled organizations tapped him when they needed a fixer whose
personal integrity and moral clarity were beyond reproach. In 2008,
President-elect Barack Obama appointed him head of his outside
economic advisory board. His successors regularly paid him homage
for defeating inflation.
Yet for all the respect Mr. Volcker commanded up until his death
Sunday, on the big macroeconomic issues of the day -- inflation,
government deficits, bank bailouts -- his successors treated him as
a hawkish anachronism.
When the Fed engineered the bailout of Bear Stearns at the start
of the financial crisis in 2008, Mr. Volcker criticized it for
going to "the very edge of its lawful and implied power,
transcending certain long-embedded central banking principles and
practices." Undeterred, the Fed went on to do even bigger
bailouts.
When the Fed began targeting 2% inflation in part to keep it
from going too low, Mr. Volcker was dismissive: "I don't get it,"
he said in 2009. The Fed is "telling people in a generation they're
going to be losing half their purchasing power." The Fed went on to
initiate ever more aggressive programs to bolster the economy and
keep inflation from slipping.
As federal deficits exploded, he joined dozens of other former
policy makers and politicians to warn of a "debt-driven crisis."
The federal debt has continued to climb ever since, and crisis has
yet to come.
The disapproval is understandable from a man who drove interest
rates almost to 20% to slay double-digit inflation in the face of
soaring unemployment and popular outrage.
Yet a more nuanced review of Mr. Volcker's government life shows
he was less austere and more pragmatic than his reputation -- and
his own memory, suggest. In fact, he regularly bent or rewrote the
rules to cope with the chaos enveloping the world.
In 1971, trade deficits and inflation triggered persistent
outflows of gold, threatening the U.S. dollar's peg to the precious
metal, the linchpin of Bretton Woods system of managed exchange
rates. Mr. Volcker, then undersecretary of the U.S. Treasury, was
tasked by President Richard Nixon with closing the gold window.
"I hate to do this," he told then-Fed Chairman Arthur Burns,
according to a biography by William Silber. "All my life I have
defended Bretton Woods, but I think it's needed...we cannot
continue this way." The move ushered in an era of floating and at
times wildly volatile exchange rates that continues to this
day.
Upon assuming the Fed chairmanship in 1979, Mr. Volcker sought
creative ways to defeat inflation, and decided to target the money
supply. That led to wild gyrations in interest rates and two
recessions in short order that devastated the economy. In 1982, he
began slashing rates even though inflation was still in high single
digits.
Vincent Reinhart, a longtime top Fed staffer who is now chief
economist at Mellon Investment Management, said Mr. Volcker could
accept inflation at 4% because he didn't have a formula that
defined price stability -- it was "a state of mind." More
important, he feared high rates were destabilizing the
world-financial system. Throughout 1982 he became increasingly
worried Mexico would default, imperiling the dozens of big U.S.
banks that had lent to it. The Fed lent to Mexico to cover up its
shrinking foreign currency reserves, and Mr. Volcker arranged
meetings between Mexico and its creditors. They agreed to
reschedule its debts, avoiding loan write-downs that could have
rendered some insolvent.
Two years later, crisis loomed again when Continental Illinois,
then the country's seventh largest bank, teetered on collapse
because of risky corporate loans, especially in energy, and
dependence on skittish, uninsured deposits. Mr. Volcker worried
that if Continental Illinois failed, depositors would flee other
big banks in similar circumstances. So the Fed lent to Continental
Illinois and the Federal Deposit Insurance Corp. bailed out its
uninsured depositors. The FDIC ended up taking over the bank
altogether. The episode prompted a congressman to coin the term,
"too big to fail."
In 1989, two years after stepping down from the Fed, Mr. Volcker
attended a conference of economists in Cambridge, Mass., on
financial crises. Mr. Volcker warned the attendees that policy
makers, by repeatedly intervening, could be "reinforcing the
behavior patterns that aggravate the risk in the first place."
Then, revealing how he felt torn between the urgency to act and the
avoidance of moral hazard, he related that as head of the Fed's New
York district back in the 1970s, "I often said to myself, 'What
this country needs to shake us up and give us a little discipline
is a good bank failure. But please, God, not in my district.'"
In 2013, while researching "Foolproof," my book about crises and
risk, I visited Mr. Volcker in New York, and asked him about that
remark. He replied with a smile: That "was just a confession of my
personal weakness."
It was actually a reflection of his pragmatism, a recognition
that the merits of austerity and moral hazard look different inside
the central bank from outside. Which leads me to believe that, for
all his public disapproval, if Mr. Volcker had been running the Fed
for the past 10 years, he would have made many of the same
decisions his successors did.
Write to Greg Ip at greg.ip@wsj.com
(END) Dow Jones Newswires
December 09, 2019 17:03 ET (22:03 GMT)
Copyright (c) 2019 Dow Jones & Company, Inc.