speeches · April 3, 2007
Regional President Speech
Richard W. Fisher · President
Risk Is a Many Splendored Thing:
Lessons Learned
Remarks before the Austin Mortgage Bankers Association
Richard W. Fisher
President and CEO
Federal Reserve Bank of Dallas
Austin, Texas
April 4, 2007
The views expressed are my own and do not necessarily reflect official positions of the Federal Reserve System.
Risk Is a Many Splendored Thing: Lessons Learned
Richard W. Fisher
Perceptions of risk lie in the eye of the beholder. Some see risk as a powerful force vital to
capitalism; others consider it a four-letter word. The latter view may be gaining currency these
days, with reports of risk coming home to roost in housing finance. Temporary problems in one
industry, however, should not detract from the essential value of, need for and virtues of risk
taking. We must be constantly mindful that prudent risk taking is the lifeblood of capitalism, and
it is indeed a many splendored thing. If we had not taken risks, we would never have created
from scratch the $13 trillion U.S. economy, the greatest economic machine in the history of the
planet.
Ever since our ancestors decided that life was anything but predestined by supreme forces
beyond their control, we have taken risks to advance our interests as we navigate our way toward
the future. A young person who goes to college, for example, risks the certain income from
today’s job, believing in the probability of a better paying one after graduation. Once we are in
the workforce, life insurance hedges the risk that we might die before we have socked away
enough money to provide for our families. As we accumulate excess savings, we place them at
risk by investing in stocks and bonds to secure our retirement. We take risks by borrowing to
finance our homes and our businesses, with the expectation that a brighter future will enable us
to repay our debts and then some.
The impulse for risk gives rise to agents to service it, like the good people assembled in this
room. Banks, insurance companies, investment banks, money managers, hedge funds and other
financial intermediaries provide the means to package and distribute risk. In the old days, their
job was fairly straightforward. The agents packaged straight-up risk instruments like letters of
credit, banker’s acceptances, commercial paper, simple loans and stocks, and fixed-rate
mortgages. Today, assisted by technology and computational power that can assess probabilities
faster than you can say “Keep Austin Weird,” financial intermediaries offer products to satisfy
almost any risk taker’s needs.
In contemplating the present situation of our economy, one can easily become confused and
distracted by the enormous array of risk instruments now available and by trying to figure out
where the buck really stops. In sorting through it all, I find it helpful to bear in mind certain
patterns that reemerge throughout history—patterns that are imprinted in human nature,
independent of advances in financial sophistication. I would like to remind you of them today.
The views I am about to express, as always, are my own and not those of any other participant in
the Federal Open Market Committee or the Federal Reserve. They are conditioned by personal
experience.
A substantial part of my personal experience involved spending some 20-odd years as a
professional investor and hedge-fund manager pursuing the time-honored goal of buying a
dollar’s worth of underlying value with nickels and dimes invested in publicly traded securities,
including those of distressed banks, thrifts and other financial institutions in the aftermath of the
1980s. As mentioned in Bernie’s introduction, my partners and I succeeded in those endeavors
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more often than not, but that is not the point. The point is that I have experienced the process of
risk taking as a market operator—the upside and the downside—at the microlevel, not just as a
macroeconomic analyst.
And yet, I am now the beneficiary of the collective knowledge of the Dallas Fed’s bank
supervisors and analysts—those battle-hardened souls who navigated their way through Texas’
savings and loan, banking and real estate crises of the 1980s.
Against that backdrop, the following is one man’s perspective on the current scene.
First, a little not-terribly-ancient history. In the 1980s, the euphoria of oil prices approaching $80
a barrel in today’s dollars led to a frenzy of lending activity in the Eleventh Federal Reserve
District. At least I think that’s what any reasonable observer would call the annual growth rate of
business loans of over 40 percent at Texas banks and annual growth in commercial real estate
lending of almost 50 percent that we saw in the early part of that decade. Booking assets at such
a rapid clip has a “come hither,” seductive power. In pursuit of a seemingly sure thing, more than
550 new banks were chartered in Texas from 1980 through 1985. This made for a volatile brew,
combining dramatic rates of growth in activity with a dramatic expansion of the number of
players with limited experience in navigating a reversal of fate, or what econometricians call a
reversion to the mean. The assumption of permanently high—or permanently rising—prices in
an asset class—in this case, oil—invariably leads to regrettable decisions.
You recall what ensued. By early 1981, reversion to the mean had begun. Real oil prices began
to fall, contributing to an economic slowdown in the region’s most energy-sensitive areas, such
as Houston. The regional economy held its own for a while, propelled by a red-hot commercial
real estate sector. The state economy suffered a severe decline when oil collapsed to the current
equivalent of $17 per barrel by mid-1986. Bank and thrift failures reached a frightful magnitude.
More than 800 financial institutions went out of business in Texas during the 1980s and into the
early 1990s. Nine of the 10 largest banking organizations based in Texas didn’t make it.
The energy bust reverberated through Texas, and it was keenly felt in both commercial and
residential real estate markets. Office vacancies soared. In Dallas and Houston, they hovered
around 30 percent, and they approached 40 percent here in Austin. Troubles in the residential
sector got so bad that the city of Garland, a Dallas suburb, authorized a condo development
project interrupted by the collapsed market to be set on fire; burning it to the ground seemed the
best choice for the 240 unfinished condos that had become eyesores and safety hazards in the
twinkle of a financial cycle’s eye.
That is pretty bracing stuff, but quickly forgotten when one looks around this state two decades
later and sees a booming economy and rapid employment growth. Texas is attracting corporate
headquarters and new citizens like bees to honey, is now the largest exporting state, is pumping
on all economic cylinders, and is even having nice things written about its museums and
restaurants in The New York Times. And the Houston and Austin and Dallas commercial real
estate markets are hotter than a two-dollar pistol. Yet we mustn’t forget the dangers of
miscalculating risk and the pain of corrections.
To be sure, we have made significant strides since the 1980s. Information technology has greatly
improved the ability to measure and calibrate risk. The banking industry has taken advantage of
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the technology with its value-at-risk measurement and the formal statistical models that are the
essence of the proposed Basel II bank capital requirements. It is now possible to mitigate risk
through securitization and the use of derivative products to a degree that was unimaginable in the
1980s.
All these advances have increased liquidity, diversified portfolios and allocated risk to those
more willing to bear it. At a very rapid rate, I might add. The majority of banks’ involvement in
derivatives has been through interest rate swaps, which grew 26 percent last year. But the fastest
growth has been in credit derivatives, which by some measures increased 55 percent last year
and tenfold in the past three years or so.
By any accounting, growth in structured credit products has been enormous. As a result, many
new players have now entered these markets—issuers and distributors as well as buyers. Slightly
more than 40 percent of the collateralized debt obligations, or CDOs, backed by corporate loans
and rated by Moody’s last year were set up by first-time issuers that have not yet managed
through a downturn in the credit cycle.
The memory cells begin to tingle. We are reminded that investors and financial institutions need
to consider fully the potential for broad swings in financial markets to cause losses across a range
of asset classes, even when losses may seem uncorrelated in a more benign environment. As we
learned from our own experience here in Texas, adverse performance may be more correlated
across assets than many expect, and the ramifications for pricing errors can be enormous.
I often hear anecdotes of seemingly risk-laden financial deals fetching only bare-bones margins.
Capital appears to be chasing one hot product after another, even as returns are compressed. In
this regard, we should be mindful of the possibility that intense competition is causing investors
to reach for yield and assume too much risk, just as Texas banks did in the 1980s with their
aggressive shift from the faltering energy sector to the glitter of real estate.
To complicate the situation even further, there are reasons to suspect the recent surge in financial
innovation, improperly understood, can intensify rather than mitigate the scope for error.
I have just returned from a spring break vacation in the Caribbean with my daughter. While we
were there, a local ichthyologist explained that fish have no memories and tend to swim in
schools.
When we were out of the water, my tutors in the Dallas Fed’s Research Department had me read
a brief about the great economist Frank Knight—now best known as Milton Friedman’s teacher.
And for pure reading pleasure, I took along a compendium of Charles Dickens’ works.
There are lessons about risk to be gleaned from all three: the fish expert, Frank Knight and
Dickens. Let’s start with Knight.
Knight viewed probabilities in three ways. The first and simplest is something like a roll of a fair
die, where the odds of a six can be computed as one-sixth. Second are repeatable events, such as
the proportion of widgets that might break on a production line. Here, experience can be a good
teacher. If we observe three of 1,000 widgets breaking on Tuesday, a similar proportion might be
expected to break on Wednesday. Third, there are unique events where probabilities can only be
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formed through judgments. For example, what is the probability that a certain new product might
eventually rival the iPod or the Blackberry in popularity?
In Knight's view, it is easiest to position for risk in the first two circumstances. The most difficult
and most important business decisions involve the third type of probability, where judgment
plays a decisive role.
There is an ever-present risk that financial markets may be treating recent innovations as if they
were in the second category, where probabilities can be based on experience, when in fact many
new financial products still belong to the third category—the most difficult one, for which sound
judgment is paramount. Many of today’s new financial innovations arguably have not been
around long enough for their loss probabilities to be accurately estimated, despite the comfort
provided by stochastic models and theoretical formulas.
Danger lies in placing too much faith in historical value-at-risk estimates, especially when they
are based on limited experience with new products. Wrong probabilities—whether they result
from limited experience, model errors or just bad judgment—can lead to costly mistakes. The
real world has a nasty habit of reminding us of this every so often—Texas in the late 1980s,
Long-Term Capital Management in the 1990s and the subprime mortgage market today.
For these reasons, value-at-risk estimates must be supplemented with stress testing and, most
important, prudent judgment. It takes extraordinary discipline for financial institutions and
investors to exercise sound judgment when the fish are schooling, swimming in pools of
liquidity, unencumbered by memory.
The possibility that recent innovations may have reshaped both the positive and negative
parameters of risk is evident in supervisors’ calls for financial institutions to control counterparty
risk, such as in the case of credit default swaps. In these transactions, the purchasers of
protection can offload the risk of their original positions but depend on a third party as guarantor.
Credit risk has simply been replaced by counterparty risk, about which we might not know as
much as we should.
Here is where Dickens comes in. In his book Martin Chuzzlewit, one of his characters utters this
classic description of financial markets:
“I can tell you,” said Tigg…, “how many of ’em will buy annuities, effect
insurances, bring us their money in a hundred shapes and ways, force it
upon us, trust us as if we were the Mint; yet know no more about us than
you do of that crossing-sweeper at the corner.”
And then there is my favorite quote from Little Dorrit, sounding the alarm bells when, as
Dickens put it, “a person who cannot pay gets another person who cannot pay to guarantee that
he can pay.”
More than 150 years ago, Dickens foreshadowed one of today’s more vexing problems with
structured products: knowing just where the risk is or who is ultimately holding it—who
ultimately pays should things go wrong. A growing awareness of the potential domino effects of
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counterparty risk has been emerging, where knowledge of one’s counterparty depends on the
counterparty’s counterparty.
If you’re looking for a financial market segment where these issues have come home to roost,
you need look no further than the subprime mortgage industry.
Only recently have we seen widespread use of a number of innovative mortgage products, such
as interest-only loans and option ARMs. And these innovations are now common even in the
subprime sector, which itself has grown tremendously. The most innovative mortgage products
have tended to be used more in markets with the greatest home-price appreciation, suggesting
some homebuyers stretched themselves financially to purchase increasingly expensive homes. In
many cases, homebuyers may have had no other choice if they wished to purchase a home.
By easing the qualifying process, these instruments have made home mortgage credit available to
broader segments of society—bringing “money in a hundred shapes and ways,” to quote
Dickens’ Tigg. Indeed, many families own homes today thanks to subprimes and mortgage
product innovations. That’s the good news: Financial innovation has made it possible for more
Americans than ever to have a tangible piece of the American Dream, including those whom
some lenders know no more about than they do of the “crossing-sweeper at the corner.” The bad
news is that these very innovations have left homebuyers exposed to a decline in the housing
market or rising interest rates, or both. We must not forget that these new products have yet to be
tested in a credit-cycle downturn.
A student of Dickens or of financial market history might have expected problems to arise in
subprime lending. Relaxed standards and documentation requirements are typically part of
aggressive lending strategies that accompany asset price booms, and subprime lenders are no
exception. Some subprime agents on the West Coast and in Florida and elsewhere in the nation
seem to have been as aggressive and as undiversified as the Texas banks and S&Ls were in the
1980s. Just as we had oil prices fueling our lending boom in the 1980s, today’s mortgage
explosion has been fed by a combination of low interest rates and some spectacular growth in
home prices.
Thus far, the damage from the subprime market has been largely contained, as many of my
Federal Reserve counterparts have been saying. Why do we say so? To begin with, quality
problems have risen primarily for adjustable-rate subprime loans, which are only about 8.5
percent of home mortgage debt outstanding. Also, much of this debt was packaged into private-
label mortgage-backed securities with the downside risk spread out over a diverse group of
investors. Nevertheless, because 40 percent of homebuyers last year were nonprime (subprime
and Alt-A) borrowers, housing markets may feel some short-term pain, making it less clear
whether housing construction has bottomed and how long the housing downturn may last.
Fortunately, the financial system and the economy are strong enough to weather this storm.
While the subprime damage is largely contained, I do not mean that the market will or should
refrain from punishing those who neglected time-proven rules of prudence. Nor am I suggesting
that the neglect of prudent practices has not bled into other types of credit—such as the Alt-A
market. Indeed, it would be atypical for lax lending standards in one area of credit not to lead to
laxity in others. Nor am I placing excessive faith in models that have yet to be tested by real
developments.
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The subprime situation may well be a blessing in disguise. It reminds us that history does have
the capacity to repeat itself. The old financial axioms—levelheaded notions such as “know your
customer” (or your counterparty) and “there is a difference between price and value”—remain
valid. I expect market discipline to reassert itself, swiftly punishing those who pressed the limits
of imprudence or suffered selective amnesia, hopefully doing so in a way that staves off the
impulse for lawmakers and regulators to interfere disproportionately.
I acknowledge that is a tall order. But I am encouraged by what I see developing. As a former
market operator, I take comfort in knowing that over time markets always clear. To be sure, the
economy will grow somewhat more slowly because of the correction in the housing market. At
the same time, other pistons in our economic engine, particularly consumption, continue
pumping. And a buildup in housing inventory means that responsible buyers will be able to
purchase homes at more affordable prices. We may have had a glimpse into this process in the
National Association of Realtors report of pending home sales released yesterday.
In addressing the subprime issue, regulatory agencies are working hard to avoid causing an
overreaction with credit standards that would needlessly cause too much of a slowdown in
housing or the overall economy. And we do not want to stifle financial innovation simply
because some problems have arisen in one sector.
Policymakers can learn a great deal from what they did wrong in the debacle of the 1980s. Back
then, regulators and lawmakers had imposed product restrictions—especially on thrifts—that
made diversification difficult. These limits were later relaxed—but only after the thrifts had been
weakened. Back then, interstate branching restrictions limited banks’ ability to diversify
geographically. Tax laws encouraged commercial real estate investment in 1981, but new
policies discouraged it in 1986. A policy of regulatory forbearance and its associated moral
hazard problems contributed to the lending excess. So-called “zombie thrifts” were allowed to
operate when they should have been closed down, encouraging otherwise-bankrupt institutions to
“bet the bank” in highly speculative ventures. If it paid off, fine; if not, the taxpayer would foot
the bill. In the end, it cost over $65 billion to clean up the Texas S&L industry alone.
I expect some of you will argue that the Federal Reserve also compounded the problem. It is true
that breaking the back of looming hyperinflation in the 1980s required the FOMC to push short-
term interest rates as high as 19 percent—way above the rates thrift institutions were earning on
their older, fixed-rate mortgages. The resulting losses depleted much of the S&L industry’s
capital. Back then, Texas and the other energy belt states felt the pain of the eventual correction,
much as the coasts are currently feeling the aftershocks of an excessive speculation in housing
that was fueled by a combination of low short-term interest rates and advances in financial
technology.
By always bearing in mind the potential for policymakers to compound rather than solve
problems, the Fed and other regulators are doing their level best to tread very carefully in dealing
with the subprime situation. Mindful of this, I think the recent subprime mortgage statement put
out for comment by the Fed and four other regulators gets the notion of sensible risk taking just
about right.
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First, it asks lenders to ensure that borrowers understand the risks in their mortgages. Second, it
specifies that an institution’s analysis of a borrower’s repayment capacity should verify an ability
to repay the debt by its maturity date at the fully indexed rate, assuming a fully amortizing
repayment schedule.
These common sense principles should enable homebuyers who reasonably expect higher future
incomes to temporarily benefit from lower initial mortgage payments. They also recognize that
lenders need to see whether borrowers can be reasonably expected to handle the transition from
an initial teaser rate or interest-only option.
You are mortgage bankers. You know what the situation is and what it calls for. I would simply
ask that you stick to the basics in your lending practices and that you inform us regulators as to
what reasonable measures might be contemplated to make sure that any problems in the
subprime sector remain “contained” and do not lead to systemic contamination.
Subprime mortgages are a segment of the financial marketplace in which risk might have been
abused. But this in no way denigrates the invaluable role that taking risk plays in our economy. It
all comes down to a question of proportion. It is worth keeping in mind the old toxicology
dictum that “the dose makes the poison,” a shortened version of a saying attributed to a 16th
century Swiss chemist named Paracelsus. “All things,” Paracelsus wrote, “are poison and
nothing is without poison, only the dose permits something not to be poisonous.”
I regard risk and risk taking as a good thing. Mae West once quipped that “too much of a good
thing is never enough.” Paracelsus may not be as funny, but I prefer his message. The dose
determines whether risk is healthy or ruinous.
Financial markets price risk 24/7. Whether they get it right, of course, is another matter. For
mortgage bankers, knowing your customers and potential exposures is requisite to getting it
right. A roll of the dice is something else, as is working under the presumption that returns can
be made while someone else incurs all your risk. Remember that passage from Little Dorrit.
Astute observers recognize that third-party assurances may provide only illusory protection from
risk.
In talking about risk today, I have been a bit of a worrywart. That goes with the job. After all, we
are the guys who have the reputation of taking away the punchbowl before the party gets out of
hand. I think this is the proper role for the Fed to play, though it is hardly a strategy for winning
popularity contests. That said, we believe in the elixir of risk, properly dosed. To thrive,
capitalism needs risk taking. Risk is a many splendored thing that drives investment, innovation
and growth. A wise man once said, “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built
for.” Risk takers—mortgage bankers like you and countless others—build and launch the ships
that sail our economy forward.
The elimination of risk can never be the goal of any type of policymaker in a capitalist system.
Risk becomes a problem only when it is excessive or when it is abused—a proposition that is
especially true in today’s environment, where financial markets are increasingly globally
integrated and information moves with the click of a mouse.
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The main concern for policymakers is the potential for excessive risk taking to result in systemic
problems. So far, that has not happened, and we are working double time, overtime to make sure
it does not. Policymakers need to remain vigilant in seeking the right balance between prudent
and indiscriminate risk taking. As do you.
Amen to that. Amen to fish. Amen to Charles Dickens, Mae West, Frank Knight and Paracelsus.
And to Bernie Bernfeld for inviting me to speak here today. Thank you.
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Cite this document
APA
Richard W. Fisher (2007, April 3). Regional President Speech. Speeches, Federal Reserve. https://whenthefedspeaks.com/doc/regional_speeche_20070404_richard_w_fisher
BibTeX
@misc{wtfs_regional_speeche_20070404_richard_w_fisher,
author = {Richard W. Fisher},
title = {Regional President Speech},
year = {2007},
month = {Apr},
howpublished = {Speeches, Federal Reserve},
url = {https://whenthefedspeaks.com/doc/regional_speeche_20070404_richard_w_fisher},
note = {Retrieved via When the Fed Speaks corpus}
}