Showing posts with label Willem Buiter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Willem Buiter. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2015

Plumbing the depths of the effective lower bound

Unfathomable Depths by Ibai Acevedo

Denmark's Nationalbank and the Swiss National Bank are the world's most interesting central banks right now. As the two of them push their deposit rates to record low levels of -0.75%, they're testing the market's limit for bearing negative nominal interest rates. The ECB takes second prize as it has been maintaining a -0.2% deposit rate since September 2014.

At some point, investors will flee deposits into 0%-yielding cash. This marks the effective lower bound to rates. Has mass paper storage begun? The last time I ran through the data was in my monetary canaries post, which was inconclusive. Let's take a quick glance at the updated data.

To gauge where we are relative to the effective lower bound, I'm most interested in the demand for large denomination notes, which bear the lowest costs of storage. Once a central bank reduces its deposit rate so deep into negative territory that the carrying cost of deposits exceeds the cost of storing a nation's largest value banknote, then it has hit the effective lower bound. Small denominations notes, which have higher storage costs, are not a pivotal part of the picture given the ability of note holders to freely convert low value notes into higher ones.

European Central Bank

The ECB issues the 500 note, which has the second highest purchasing power out of the world's currency notes. I've charted the quantity of 500 euro notes in circulation below, as well as the percent change in the value of all euro denominations:



After declining through 2012 and 2013, we saw a sharp rise in demand for €500 notes, particularly in December 2014 and the first few months of 2015. The red line illustrates the general demand for all denominations of euro cash. Over the last four months the seasonally-adjusted growth rate of banknotes outstanding has risen to its highest level in the last five years.

It's hard to determine how much of this increase can be attributed to the ECB's negative rate policy, initiated when Mario Draghi brought the deposit facility rate to -0.1% in June and -0.2% in September, and how much is due to the Greek fiasco. Growing fears that Greece will either leave the euro or impose capital controls have led to a steady jog out Greek banks. There are two escape routes: Greek's can convert their deposits can into German deposits or into cash.

In an interesting article, Bloomberg's Lorcan Roche Kelly backs out the Greek-specific demand for European cash. Read it for the full details, but the shorter rendition is that a line item on the Bank of Greece's balance sheet allows us to see how many banknotes Greeks are demanding in excess of the Bank of Greece's regular allocation. Kelly finds a large spike beginning in December and extending into 2015, which we can attribute to the bank jog. I've recreated the chart below:

Source: Bloomberg, data to end of March

The approximately €12 billion jump in Greek cash demand corresponds nicely with the recent €7.2 billion spike in €500 notes in circulation across the entire eurozone. The upshot is that a large chunk of the rise in 500 notes over the last few months is probably due to a run on Greek banks, not an escape from negative-yielding ECB deposits. Remove the run and the rise in demand for €500 notes would have been unremarkable, indicating that the eurozone is still far from hitting the effective lower bound.

Swiss National Bank

Because Swiss banknotes are not a direct escape route from the ongoing Greek bank run, SNB cash data should provide a clearer signal of the whereabouts of the effective lower bound than ECB data. The SNB issues the world's most valuable banknote in terms of purchasing power; the 1000 franc note. Below I've plotted the yearly percent change in demand for both the 1000 note and Swiss cash-in-general to the end of February.


There's been slight pickup in the demand for Swiss cash, but nothing dramatic. Its worth pointing out that Swiss paper currency has historically played a safe haven role. Demand tends to spike during episodes of uncertainty, including the 2008 credit crisis and the 2011-12 period, when it seemed like the euro could be torn apart. This means that it is difficult to be sure how much of the recent pickup in demand for Swiss cash stems from the SNB's -0.75% deposit rate and how much is due to fear of a Greek government default, which would create havoc in world markets.  

Danmarks Nationalbank

Our final canary is the Danmarks Nationalbank. Unlike the demand for Swiss paper francs, the demand for Danish paper krone does not usually spike during times of crisis. For instance, during the 2008 credit crisis demand remained muted. This leads me to believe that demand for paper krone provides the clearest indicator yet of the presence (or not) of the effective lower bound. I've charted the year-over-year change in Danish currency in circulation.


In the 55 days that have passed since the Danmarks National bank reduced its rates to -0.75% (February 5), there has been a sustained rise in the demand for cash, as the red data indicate. But I don't think we can describe it as anything out of the ordinary, at least not yet.

Interestingly, in late March the Nationalbank granted Danish banks some wiggle room by providing them with greater access to the Bank's 0% current-account facility. This small adjustment would have reduced Danish banks' incentives to emigrate from -0.75% deposits into cash. Was the central bank's decision to provide this wiggle room a response to private data showing that it had hit the effective lower bound? Who knows.

It may be worth noting even if a central bank finds itself at the effective lower bound, it can forestall the demand for large denomination notes by using moral suasion. Willem Buiter mentions this possibility in his recent note High Time To Get Low, but maintains we have no evidence of this sort of pressure. I'm tempted to agree with him. If either the Danish or Swiss central bankers have put informal embargoes on cash, we would have known about it by now.

The use of moral suasion to prevent large denomination banknote storage would effectively freeze the quantity of high value notes in circulation. In such a scenario, we'd expect the 1000 Sfr note to rise to a slight premium to face value, say 1050 Sfr in bank deposits for each 1000 Sfr in banknotes. Traders would be willing to pay this premium as long as the storage costs on high value notes are lower than the -0.75% penalty set by the SNB on deposits, thus allowing them to earn an excess return on their note holdings. As long as moral suasion remains successful in choking off Swiss banks' demand for cash, each subsequent cut by the SNB into ever deeper negative territory would drive the premium on notes higher. (Assiduous readers will recognize this as the second of three ways for a lazy central banker to escape a liquidity trap.)

In sum, we probably haven't hit the effective lower bound yet. Stay tuned.

Monday, April 13, 2015

A libertarian case for abolishing cash



Last week Citi's Willem Buiter published a note on the three ways to get rid of the effective lower bound to nominal interest rates, one of which is to abolish cash. He goes on to say that
politically, the abolition of currency would run into opposition from some of the legitimately cash-dependent poor and elderly, from those for whom the anonymity of cash is desired because they are engaged in illegal activities and from libertarians. The first constituency can be helped, the second can be ignored and the third one should take one for the team.
I think that Buiter is wrong to characterize libertarians as necessarily opposed to the abolition of cash. Their take on cash is probably (or at least should be) a bit more nuanced. Since libertarians generally advocate government withdrawal from lines of business like health care or liquor retailing, an exit of central banks from the cash business should be a desirable outcome.

What Buiter is advocating is a bit more extreme than just government exit, however. An across-the-board banning of cash would not only take the government out of the cash business but also prevent individuals and businesses from entering the product niche. The participation of the private sector in the provision of cash isn't just science fiction. Historically, commercial banks were intimately involved in the production of paper currency. In modern times, the majority of banknotes that circulate in Scotland are issued by three private banks—the Bank of Scotland, the Royal Bank of Scotland, and the Clydesdale Bank, while in Hong Kong, the major commercial banks are charged with issuing currency.

Buiter would probably object to private banknotes. After all, if private banks are able to issue negotiable bearer instrument that pay a zero nominal interest rate, a central banker will continue to be plagued by the problem that he/she can't reduce interest rates below zero—instead of fleeing into 0% government paper, the public will hide in private banknotes. It's the same liquidity trap as before, with private currency in the place of central bank currency.

However, there would be one key difference. Private banks must abide by the Darwinian calculus of profit and losses, central banks don't have to. Take a world with privatized cash. A recession hits and the rate of return on capital falls plummets. At the same time, the central bank drops its deposit rate deep into negative territory. As a private bank tries to match with deposit rate reductions of its own, say to -2%, customers will convert negative yielding deposits into the bank's higher-yielding 0% bank notes. The bank, whose survival depends on a healthy spread between the rates on borrowing and lending, faces a sudden spike in borrowing costs to 0%, the rate on their cash base. Spreads will shrink, even invert. Bankruptcy looms.

In order to avert this disaster, private issuers will quickly institute limits on their cash business. This could involve adopting any one of Buiter's three remedies: 1) cancel their note issue; 2) impose a fee on cash, or; 3) remove the fixed exchange rate between deposits and cash. Thus,the lower bound probably wouldn't be a problem in a banking system characterized by privatized paper issuance. The necessity of maintaining a spread would force private banks to rapidly innovate any one of these three escapes come recession and negative nominal rates. Upon recovery, they can remove these limitations and continue with their regular cash business.

Imagine that private banks all choose the first option when nominal rates fall below zero, cancellation. With cash no longer in existence, banks will have succeeded in restoring their margins to health. The population, however, will have effectively lost their ability to make anonymous transactions. This puts a libertarian in a tough philosophical position. On the one hand, a cashless world poses a serious threat to personal liberty. John Cochrane calls it an "Orwellian nightmare," and Chris Dillow has referred to banning cash as "a grossly illiberal measure - the banning of capitalist acts between consenting adults."

On the other hand, if cash threatens a bank's existence, no libertarian would advocate the use of force to prevent said bank from exiting the business of cash provision. Capitalistic acts cannot be forced upon non-consenting adults, or, put differently, Jack's desire for anonymity-providing products doesn't justify Jill being put into chains in order to provide those products. Therefore, a withdrawal of cash by banks as nominal rates fall below zero, and the loss of anonymity that comes with it, is consistent with libertarianism.

So oddly, Buiter's proposed end point—a cancellation of cash in order to rid the world of the lower bound—is very similar to what a libertarian end point could look like. Both institutions will elect to withdraw cash from circulation because it interferes with their institutional prerogatives. For a central bank, this mission boils down to the targeting of some nominal variable like inflation while in the case of a private bank it is its ability to earn a competitive return. That's not to say that a libertarian ought to support Buiter's abolition, only that the subject is more nuanced than it might seem upon a superficial reading.  

As a postscript, it's worth noting that neither Buiter's central banker nor a libertarian's private banker need go as far as abolishing cash in order to remove the effective lower bound. Buiter provides two other options, the best of which (in my opinion) is removing the fixed exchange rate between cash and deposits. Miles Kimball has gone through this option exhaustively. I've outlined some even less invasive, though not as effective, options here.



Related links: 

Does the zero lower bound exist thanks to the government's paper currency monopoly? (link)
Is legal tender an imposition on free markets or a free market institution? (link)
Bill Woolsey on how the private sector would withdraw cash at negative rates (link | link )
FTAlphaville: Buiter on the death of cash ( link )

Note: I changed some wording on September 26, 2015. The message remains the same.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A brief history of the Guinea

1685 Guinea with the bust of James II (link)

The guinea makes a fascinating story because its evolution reveals so many different monetary phenomena. It began its life in 1663 in the Kingdom of England as a mere coin, one medium of exchange in a whole sea of competing exchange media that included crowns, bobs, halfpennies, farthings, not to mention all the foreign coins that circulated in England, Bank of England paper notes, as well as the full range of portable property—like jewelery and art—and property-not-so-portable, say houses and land and such. If things had stayed that way, the guinea's life would be a boring one and I wouldn't be writing about it.

But in the late 1600s the guinea crossed a line and became a very different thing. Rather than functioning as just one exchange medium among many, the guinea suddenly emerged as one of Britain's two media of account, the items used to define a nation's unit of account, in this case the £. Within a few decades it had wrested the medium of account function for itself, holding this pre-eminent spot until 1816, at which point the guinea was decommissioned.

Interestingly, while the guinea ceased to exist in 1816, its memory was sufficiently strong that it continued to function as a unit of account, albeit a relatively unimportant one, well into the 1900s. More on that later.

Just a regular coin

Whereas most of England's coinage at the time was silver,  the guinea was a gold coin. Introduced in 1663 during the reign of Charles II, it was initially rated at 20 shillings, or one pound (£), by the monetary authorities (the mint and the king). Pounds, shillings, and pence, or £sd, comprised the English unit of account—the set of signs that merchants affixed to their wares to indicate prices. The pound unit had been defined in terms of silver coins for centuries, but the the decision by the mint to give a 1 pound (or 20 shilling) rating to the guinea meant that the pound would now be dually defined in terms of both gold and silver coins.

However, according to Lord Liverpool, both the public and the authorities ignored this 20 shilling rating so that a market-determined price emerged for the guinea. In this way the guinea was no different from any other item of merchandise; its price floated independently according to the whims of buyers and sellers.

This stands in contrast to England's silver coinage. Silver pennies, halfpennies, and farthings had an extra function; they served as the nation's medium of account. The pound unit, the £, the symbol with which merchants set prices or denominated debts, was defined by the nation's silver coinage. Put differently, by setting a farm's price at £10, a seller was stipulating that the farm was worth the amount of silver residing in a collection of pennies and farthings.

When something serves as the medium of account, it's price doesn't float independently. Rather, the whole universe of other prices shifts to accommodate changes in the value of the medium of account. For example, if the value of silver were to have risen in the 1670s due to increased demand for silver jewelery, then the entire English price level would have had to fall. Alternatively, if the amount of silver in the nation's coinage was debauched, then the English price level would have risen. A change in the demand for gold in the 1670s, however, would have produced an entirely different result; the relative price of the guinea would have shifted, but little else. That's why a medium of account is so special. Unlike all other items, the price of everything pivots around it.

The fact that the guinea's initial 1663 rating had been ignored was very important. Imagine that the authorities had been stern about enforcing it. Returning to our farm example, in setting the farm's price at £10, our seller would have been stipulating that the farm was worth either the amount of sliver residing in a collection of pennies and farthings, or the amount of gold residing in the guinea. A very different monetary system would have emerged; bimetallism. But more on that later.

Liverpool tells us that the guinea fluctuated between 21 and 22 shillings in its first decades, but in 1695 its price rose rapidly to 30 shillings. This wasn't because of an increase in the demand for gold but a function of the quickening pace of clipping and sweating of pennies, which reduced the quantity of silver in the coinage. Guineas weren't the only commodity to rise in 1695; the entire array of English prices had to pivot around the diminishing value of the silver penny. Once the silver coinage was reformed (its silver content being restored) in the Great Recoinage of 1696, the price of guineas quickly returned to 22 shillings.

The switch to bimetallism

Things all changed in 1697 when the Exchequer, the department responsible for receiving taxes, announced that all guineas were to be accepted by the Exchequer's tellers at 22 shillings. Prior to then, the Exchequer had accepted guineas at the going market rate. As Sykes points out, after 36 years of floating this was tantamount to fixing the price of the guinea relative to silver. Guinea couldn't circulate for less than this stipulated amount, say 21 shillings, because an arbitrageur would mop up those guineas at 21 shillings and use them to pay 22 shillings worth of taxes, earning him or herself a 1 shilling gain. (The next year, the Exchequer would reduce this rate to 21 shillings 6 pence.)

Britain, which had been on a silver standard up to 1697, was now on a bimetallic standard, with the £ unit defined as the amount of silver residing in the English penny, and simultaneously the amount of gold residing in the guinea.

The guinea takes over

The problem with the new standard was that in setting the guinea at 21s 6p, the Exchequer had overvalued gold relative to the market price, more specifically the silver-to-gold ratio prevalent in the rest of the world. By how much? In 1702 Sir Isaac Newton, Master of the Mint since 1699, concluded that 'Gold is therefore at too high a rate in England by about 10 pence or 12 pence in the Guinea.' In other words, the Exchequer should have announced it would only accept guineas at around 20s 6p, or 4.6% less than it had.

What were the consequences of this over-valuation? All of the silver pennies began to leave Britain, gold coins filling the void. Given the choice between paying a debt or a tax in either an overvalued or undervalued instrument, people will always select to use the overvalued one. After all, buying 20 shillings 6 pence's worth of gold in France and using it to discharge a 21s 6p shilling tax liability in England resulted in a 4.6% profit (less transportation and minting costs). The undervalued instrument, in this case silver, is best used in other parts of the world where it is capable of purchasing a larger real amount of goods (or discharging a larger real quantity of taxes) than in the country in which it is artificially undervalued. This is, of course, Gresham's law; the bad drives out the good.

So our guinea, which had started its young life as a mere medium of exchange, had not only graduated to becoming one of only two English media of account, but was responsible for the mass flushing out of silver from England.

By 1717, the silver outflow was getting significantly bad that the authorities decided to do something about it. Newton, still Master of the Mint, noted that the market price for the guinea was around 20s 8d, given the exchange rate between silver and gold in other European markets, and suggested an initial rate reduction from 21s 6d to 21 shillings.

But even at this lower price the English authorities were still overvaluing the yellow metal. They had now fixed the silver to gold ratio at 15.069 to 1, but because the rate was 14.8 to 1 in Holland and France, a profit still remained on exporting silver and importing gold. This silver outflow would continue over the decades until most silver was gone. England had gone from a bimetallic standard to a monometallic standard. Though it was still de jure bimetallic, de facto it had become a gold standard. And the guinea, which was now the controlling element in English prices, was to blame (or at least the decision to misprice it was).(1)

The end of the guinea

For the next century, the English price level pivoted around the value of the gold guinea, until the Great Recoinage of 1816, at which point the guinea's life suddenly came to an end. Since the days of Isaac Newton, the guinea had been awkwardly rated at 21 shillings, or one pound one shilling. This must have made payments somewhat arduous since there was no coin that could satisfy an even 1 pound bill or debt, and people like round numbers. The decision was made to introduce a less awkward gold coin, the sovereign, with slightly less gold. The sovereign was conveniently rated at exactly 1 pound, or 20 shillings, the upshot being that the pound unit of account still contained just as much physical gold as before, but now a coin existed that corresponded with the exact pound unit. The guinea was dead.

_______________________


Well, not entirely. Though is was no longer being minted, the guinea continued to be used as a way to price items. According to Willem Buiter (pdf), auction houses and "expensive and pretentious shops" continued to set prices in terms of guineas through the 1800s and 1900s. Bespoke tailoring and furniture, for instance, was quoted in the legacy gold coin. The unit used was g, or gn, with the plural being gs or gns, although payments were made in sovereign coins or Bank of England notes.

Gillette advertisement (link)

Doctor's and lawyer's fees, often known as "Guinea fees" we're advertised in terms of the legacy gold coin. Whereas common laborers were paid in pounds, payments in guineas was considered more gentlemanly. You can see it pop up in the literature of the time. In Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes tale the Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb a stranger offers Mr Hatherly, a hydraulic engineer who is down on his luck, a unique proposal. "How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?"

An ad from 1929 (link)

The standard rate paid by Charles Dickens for contributions to his weekly periodicals Household Words and All The Year Round was half a guinea a column or a guinea a page. In his novels, the guinea pops up often. In Oliver Twist (set in the 1840s), a 5 guinea reward for information on Oliver is posted by the kind Mr. Brownlow.

In more modern times, horses continue to be auctioned in terms of guineas.

Dancing Rain sold for 4 million guineas (link)

Now of course this is a bit of a come-down for the once almighty guinea. Serving as the unit at Tattersalls isn't the same as underpinning the entire price level. But at least its better than the sovereign, the coin that replaced the guinea, which has gone silent, or most other medieval coins for that matter, which neither circulate nor serve as legacy units.



(1) The 1717 reduction of the guinea to 21 shillings was accompanied by the requirement that those guineas be accepted as legal tender at that price. Prior to then, only silver had functioned as legal tender, meaning that a debtor could only discharge a debt with silver coins. After the change, a debtor could choose to use either guineas or silver coins to pay off their debt, a decision made easier given gold's overvaluation.

Some References:

Lord Liverpool, A Treatise on the Coin of the Realm, 1805.
Sargent & Velde, The Big Problem Of Small Change, 2001.
Selgin, Good Money, 2008.
Sykes, Banking and Currency, 1905. 
Macleod, Bimetallism, 1894.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Yap stones and the myth of fiat money


At first glance, the large circular discs that circulated on the island of Yap in the South Pacific certainly seem quite odd. Too big to be easily transported, the stones are often seen in photos resting against their owner's houses. So much for velocity. Yap stones have been considered significant enough that they have become a recurring motif in monetary economics. Macroeconomics textbooks, including Baumol & Blinder, Miles & Scott (pdf), Stonecash/Gans/King/Mankiw, Williamson, and Taylor all have stories about Yap stone money.

Why this fascination? Part of it is probably due to the profession's obsession with the categorical divide between "money" and "non-money". In dividing the universe of goods into these two bins, only a few select goods end up in the money bin. That an object so odd and unwieldy as a three meter wide stone could join slim US dollar bills and easily portable silver coins in the category of money is pleasantly counterintuitive   and economists love the counterintuitive. I'll talk about this divide and on which side to place Yap stones later (see part 3 below).

Another reason that Yap stones attract attention is their seeming "fiat" nature. In serving no useful purpose other than money, Yap stones seem to be historic ancestors to our modern "fiat" central bank money. I'll be discussing this idea in the current post.

The discussion on Yap stones will be split into three parts:

1. Yap stones and the myth of fiat money
2. Yap stones and chartalism
3. Yap stones and moneyness

I recently finished reading The Stone Money of Yap: A Numismatic Survey (pdf) by Cora Lee Gillilland (1975), which provides a historical summarization of all appearances of Yap stone money in the accounts of travelers, administrators, and anthropologists over the centuries. Having little to do over Christmas, I also picked up The island of stone money: Uap of the Carolines (1910) by W.H. Furness. Furness spent a year living on Yap and recorded his observations.

Here are some interesting facts gleaned from Gillilland and Furness which will be useful for all three parts:

1. Yap is an Island in the South Pacific. Denizens of Yap, the Yapese, valued circular stones called rai, or fei. A certain type of mineral called aragonite was prized by the Yapese in making rai. Aragonite, a white limestone that glistens, was only found on the island of Palau some 250 miles away, necessitating a long and arduous journey by canoe with a heavy rock in tow (see map below). The stones were quarried in the mountains of Palau and shaped into discs with holes in the centre. The holes allowed the stones to be carried on long poles, facilitating transportation. The poles can be seen in the photo above.

2. One of the earliest European accounts of these stones (in Gillilland) refers to a trader named Andrew Cheyne, who in 1843 wrote this about his arrival at Yap from Palau with a delegation of Palua traders.
At 9 A.M., the premier and chiefs of Tomal [Yap] came on board to receive their present, sent by Abba Thule [one of the chiefs of Palau], for their king, which consisted of nothing more or less than a round stone, with a hole in the centre, similar to a small upper millstone. These stones are very rare, and consequently highly prized, being only found in the mountains of the Pallou Islands. 
This particular stone was sent to the king of Yap to secure permission for Palau traders to barter with the Yapese for bêche-de-mer, otherwise known as sea cucumber.


3. We know from Gillilland that Yap exchanged not only bêche-de-mer with Palau traders, but also turmeric root. Nor was this the only exchange good. Accounts in the late 1800s describe Yapese traders traveling to Palau and exchanging their labour for the right to quarry stones. They gathered firewood for the Palau, carried, water, and according to one account, constructed the paved streets of the island of Koror in Palau.

4. Early rai were small, usually no more than eight hand spans across according to Gillilland. They were also rare. The difficulty of transporting stones by raft from distant Palau was certainly a limiting factor. The appearance of European traders allowed the Yapese to transport larger stones back from Palau and in greater quantities. There are accounts of stones weighing a ton and spanning over three metres in diameter. The stereotypical Yap stone we are accustomed to seeing in photos like the above are probably post-European stones. Cheyne described the stones as "very rare" in the 1840s, but they numbered 13,281 in 1929 according to a Japanese survey.

5. Other forms of "money" were used on Yap, including pearl shells (yar), pearl shell bead necklaces (gau), ceremonial pestles (ma), and woven mats (mbul).

6. David Sean O'Keefe, an Irish American adventure, cornered the market in Yap stone transportation from 1872 to 1901. The Yapese were allowed to transport the stones they'd mined on Palau on O'Keefe's schooner. Upon arrival at Yap, they were required to pay O'Keepe in copra to have the stones released. Copra is the dried meat of coconuts, and it was useful in lamp oil. Because most Yapese didn't have a copra supply, they could also pay by working on O'Keefe's coconut plantations.

7. Rai had exchange value on Yap. Furness reports that a rai spanning a length of three hands and
of good whiteness and shape ought to purchase fifty 'baskets'; of food - a basket is about eighteen inches long and ten inches deep, and the food is taro roots, husked coconuts, yams, and bananas;- or, it is worth an eighty or a hundred pound pig, or a thousand coconuts, or a pearl shell measuring the length of the hand plus the width of three fingers up the wrist. I exchanged a small short handled axe for a good white rai, fifty centimeters in diameter. For another rai, a little larger, I gave a fifty pound bag of rise... I was told that a well-finished rai, about four feet in diameter, is the price usually paid either to the parents or to the headman of the village as a compensation of the theft of a mispil [a woman].
Gillilland lists rai as capable of purchasing fishing equipment, canoes, and housing materials. There is record of a dance group being paid in rai for their performance. War indemnities and funeral expenses of chiefs were paid in rai, as was the assistance in war of a neutral tribe. Normally a family was self-sufficient in food, but when necessary rai could be used to purchase fish, yams, or taro.

8. Rai needn't be exchanged directly, especially the larger variety. Rather, Yapese were often content to transfer mental ownership of a Yap stone, leaving the stone sitting in place. Wrote Furness:
it is not necessary for its owner to reduce it to possession. After concluding a bargain which involves the price of a rai too large to be conveniently moved, its new owner is quite content to accept the bare acknowledgment of ownership and without so much as a mark to indicate the exchange, the coin remains undisturbed on the former owner's premises.
9. An extreme example of this is provided by Furness. According to local legend, two or three generations before Furness's arrival a large stone in transit was lost at sea during a storm. The claim to this stone continued to have value, even though the stone itself was unrecoverable.

10. According to Furness, the Germans bought control of Yap from the Spanish in 1899. In order to motivate Yapese to work on improving the island's road system, the Germans marked a certain number of rai with black crosses, indicating that the government now claimed these stones. To regain control of their rai, people had to labour on the road system. It was in this way that Yap got its first roads. Gillilland confirms this account, noting only that the intials B.A. (Berzirks-Amt or District Office) was painted on the stones, not a cross.

There are many more facts and anecdotes worth reading about in Gillilland and Furness, as well as this shorter article from the Smithsonian. I'm going to turn away from the anthropological evidence and investigate how economists have used Yap money in their theorizing.

Yap stones used by economists as examples of fiat money

One of the earliest expositions of Yap stones is in Volume II of J.M. Keynes's Treatise on Money (1930). When he mentions the stones, Keynes is in the process of writing about the emergence of "representative" money from commodity money. According to Keynes, a representative money can be either fiat or "managed". Representative money has "relatively little or no intrinsic value apart from the law or practice of the State." As gold had ceased to be used privately in the west, it was increasingly concentrated in the vaults of central banks. Keynes noted that even central banks had ceased transferring gold to each other's vaults, preferring instead to have their gold "ear-marked" have its ownership changed without changing location. In this context, Keynes mused that money was on the verge of becoming fiat, which he felt was comparable to the status of Yap stones:
The earliest example of "ear-marking" is in the case of the stone money of Rossel Island, which, being too heavy to move without difficulty, could be conveniently dealt with in no other way. One of the largest and most valuable of these stones lay at the bottom of the sea, the boat which was importing it having capsized. But there being no doubt that the stone was there, these civilized islands saw no objection to including it as part of their stock of currency—its lawful owner at any time being, in fact, thereby established as the richest man in the island—or to changing its ownership by "ear-marking". (Pg 292, Vol II)
Note that Keynes's facts are wrong, since it was Yap Island, and not Rossel Island, thousands of miles to the southeast of Yap, that used stone money.

In an article called Money for the New Palgrave, James Tobin also provides an account of Yap Stones, closely mirroring Keynes by comparing the stones to gold:
On the island of Yap debts were settled by changing the ownership of large immovable stone wheels. The practice continued after the sea flooded their site and the stones were invisible at the bottom of a lagoon. (Similarly when gold was international money in the twentieth century title to it often changed while the gold itself, safe in underground vaults, never moved.) (Pg 3)
Tobin either makes an error or an embellishment, since neither Furness nor Gillilland mention the sea flooding the site where stones were held, only that one stone was lost at sea during a storm.

Milton Friedman also jumped into the Yap stone fray in the first two chapters of his book Money Mischief. Like Keynes and Tobin, Friedman compares the earmarking of gold among central banks to the use of transferable claim on the famous submerged Yap stone. In the second chapter of the same book, Friedman goes on to question whether the stones had any nonmonetary value whatsoever:
When most money consisted of silver or gold or some other item that had a nonmonetary use, or of an enforceable promise to pay a specified amount of such an item, the "metallist" fallacy arose that "it is logically essential for money to consist of, or be 'covered' by, some commodity so that the logical source of the exchange value or purchasing power of money is the exchange value or purchasing power of that commodity, considered independently of its monetary role" (Schumpeter 1954, p. 288). The examples of the stone money of Yap, of cigarettes in Germany after World War II, and of paper money currently make clear that this "metallist" view is a fallacy. The usefulness of items for consumption or other nonmonetary purposes may have played a role in their acquiring the status of money (though the example of the stone money of Yap indicates that this has not always been the case). [My emphasis]
Greg Mankiw invokes Keynes's line between commodity and representative money when he writes in his textbook Macroeconomics that "Yap, a small island in the Pacific, once had a type of money that was something between commodity and fiat money."  Yap therefore illustrated an economy with circulating paper redeemable in a commodity on the threshold of becoming an economy in which the circulating paper's claim to the original commodity has been lost. Mankiw also repeats the famous story of the lost Yap stone:
Eventually, it became common practice for the new owner of the fei not to bother to take physical possession of the stone. Instead, the new owner accepted a claim to the fei without moving it. In future bargains, he traded this claim for goods that he wanted. Having physical possession of the stone became less important than having legal claim to it. This practice was put to a test when a valuable stone was lost at sea during a storm. Because the owner lost his money by accident rather than through negligence, everyone agreed that his claim to the fei remained valid. Even generations later, when no one alive had ever seen this stone, the claim to this fei was still valued in exchange.
Gary Smith's textbook Money and Banking (1984) goes even further than Mankiw in attributing to Yap stones not merely intermediate status between fiat and commodity money, but status as a purely fiat money:
The stone money of Yap is superficially a commodity money. And yet is has no real value as a commodity. A Yap stone is eagerly accepted in exchange for useful goods and services solely because its recipients are confident that they will also be able to exchange the stone for goods and services. Its acceptance as a medium of exchange rests on simple faith, nothing more. This is an example of fiat money, something that has little value as a commodity but, because of law or tradition, is accepted as a medium of exchange.
We see modern use of the motif in Willem Buiter in Helicopter Money (2004, pdf). Like Smith, Buiter doesn't bother with the idea that Yap money might be somewhat intermediate between commodity and fiat money:
Some commodity monies have intrinsic, that is, non-monetary, value as a consumption, intermediate or capital good. Gold, salt, cattle and cigarettes are historical examples. I do not consider this kind of intrinsically valuable strong outside money. There is, however, a partial resemblance between the government-issued fiat base money considered in this paper and commodity money that does not have any intrinsic value. Pet rocks, the candy wrappers that are part of many first expositions of Samuelson’s pure consumption loans model (Samuelson (1958)), or the stone money used on the Micronesian island state of Yap are examples.
On the blogosphere, Nick Rowe had this to say about Yap stones a few years ago:
My point is that both Yap stones and cowrie shells (the Yap stones especially) look totally useless except as money. Even if they did have some value apart from their use as money, that "industrial value" would be a small proportion of their value as money.
So as you can see, there is a long line of economists who have attributed a pure fiat nature to Yap stones.

Yap stones not fiat - Dror Goldberg's response

Dror Goldberg penned an interesting paper in 2005 called Famous Myths of Fiat Money. I'm in debt to him for providing some clues to the whereabouts of the above references to Yap stones.

Goldberg defines fiat money as an object that has no intrinsic value and is not convertible into anything. It is neither legal tender, not is its use forced on anyone. Insofar as money can be thought of as having a kernel of fundamental value plus some extra marginal use as a medium of exchange, a fiat money is something without any fundamental value whatsoever. It is a purely speculative object valued only for its exchangeability.

Goldberg points out that most monetary economists believe that their concept of fiat money is not merely fictional but exists in reality. One justification for their belief is the supposed existence of fiat monies in primitive societies. However, in investigating the phenomenon of Yap stones, Goldberg finds that scholars have ignored laws, customs, and religion in according to rai the label "fiat". To begin with, the stones were valued for their aesthetic value:
For Pacific islanders who knew no metals or precious stones, it was reasonable to attach high value to semi-precious stones. Another proof for the high esthetic value is that the largest stones were “entirely beyond price” (Einzig 1966, p.40). Small specimens may have been used in jewelry, but the stones became more popular as big statues in the shape of a full moon (Gillilland 1975, pp.19-20). In fact, these stones were Yap’s version of gold. Just as gold could barely be used for any practical purpose (it is too soft), and one of the few things one could do with it was sit on a throne made of it, the Yap stones were also used as thrones (Gillilland 1975, p.3)
Goldberg also points out that Yap stones had religious value:
One local legend says that the bodies of the islanders’ ancestors, which were half-human and half-divine, have become the oldest stones (Gillilland 1975, p.19). Another legend says that the Fairy Godmother of Yap chose which stones would become money, and the stones’ shape was also approved by her (Christian 1899, p.300). Regardless of the latter legend, it is known that the full moon shape had a religious significance.
Thus to ascribe to Yap stones intrinsic uselessness is to ignore the very real value ascribed to them by the Yapese . While from the perspective of outsiders these stones may seem useless, within the context of the society in which they are used they have a very particular meaning and history.

As for the famous story of the lost stone that Keynes and Mankiw invoke in favor of fiat money, Goldberg points out that the stone in question remained in the possession of an ancestor of the family that had first brought it over from Palau. Thus Keynes, Tobin, and Mankiw are wrong to assume the claim to the lost stone continued to have exchange value, for there is no evidence that it was ever traded outside of the family who originally lost the stone. If the claim had been marked-to-market, would its so-called value have survived? We simply don't know. I suppose a graduate student could fly to Yap and try to locate the claim to the famous missing stone — after all, it should still be valuable if Keynes/Mankiw/Tobin are right. But until then, the story remains dubious.

This leads into the final question in this post.

So why is the existence of theoretical and/or actual fiat money so important to economists?

I suspect the answer to this is because fiat money makes theorizing easier. Goldberg, for instance, points out that the fiat money concept is "useful". He invokes Wallace and Zhu (2004), a quote worth providing in full:
The conception of money as fiat money, an intrinsically useless object, has been used in models for a long time. It was used in the classical-dichotomy model, even though that model was developed and used at a time when actual money was gold or silver. Ignoring the commodity aspect of money was convenient because it produced a simple and strong prediction: allocations are independent of the amount of money.
In other words, in assuming the existence of a fiat money, the analyst can neutralize the monetary sector and work purely with a real economy. This removes a number of thorny issues.

The great economist Alfred Marshall, for instance, noted in his example of an economy that used "shells of some certain extinct fish" as currency, that the simultaneous demand for those shells as useful ornaments would break the proportional relationship between the quantity of the shells and their value. This was the famous quantity theory of money. If it was the case that shells were desired as ornamentation, then an increase in demand for shells as ornaments would have monetary effects while an increase in demand for shells as money would have non-monetary effects. Gone is the useful dichotomy between the real and monetary economies.

Another reason that the myth continues to be sustained is the idea that fiat money saves resources. One of the oldest expressions of this idea comes from David Ricardo in The Principles of Political Economy and Taxation:
A currency is in its most perfect state when it consists wholly of paper money, but of paper money of an equal value with the gold which it professes to represent. The use of paper instead of gold substitutes the cheapest in place of the most expensive medium, and enables the country, without loss to any individual, to exchange all the gold which it before used for this purpose for raw materials, utensils, and food; by the use of which both its wealth and its enjoyments are increased.
This idea rings true in modern general equilibrium economics. Ostroy and Starr (1988) note that in a sequence economy (one which opens and closes, rather than an all-at-one-point-in-time Arrow Debreu economy)
goods are desired as objects of consumption and as carriers of value between trading opportunities. The second demand may interfere with the first. When it does so, the introduction of a fiduciary or fiat money with negligible transactions and storage costs can change the equilibrium allocation to one that is Pareto efficient... Since the opportunity cost of holding real goods in inventory will generally be non-negligible, there is an efficiency gain through the use of fiduciary (bank) or fiat money in place of commodity money. 
In other words, since intrinsically useful goods serving as money also have consumption value, the opportunity cost of using said goods as money is the lost consumption. Replacing these commodity monies with a non-real money good, something inherently valueless like a fiat token, will return a commodity money’s “lost consumption” to the economy, while ensuring that something still exists to perform the function of money. Fiat money is the most efficient solution. Given that in theory fiat money is the theoretically ideal money, it is no doubt tempting to assume the actual existence of such an object, even when the evidence is lacking. Otherwise we would be living in a world with a massive market failure.

Lastly, in observing the rise of central bank money, monetary economists going back to the days of David Ricardo have felt it their duty to create theories of fiat money. But central bank money is not necessarily fiat money. If there is no actual fiat money in the real world, why have economists spent so much time modeling a world as if it contained such an item? There needs to be fiat money to justify the effort.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Idiot's Guide to the Federal Reserve Interdistrict Settlement Account

The argument about ECB Target2 imbalances, an argument which began in mid 2011 with this article, continues to be reignited in various arenas. One component of the argument is the comparison of Target2 to the Federal Reserve’s mechanism for settling inter-Fed settlement imbalances; the Interdistrict Settlement Account.

Because the various debaters often have such diverging views on how the Interdistrict accounts are settled, I’m donating this post to the blogosphere with the goal of ensuring that the debate doesn't founder on faulty comparisons of Target2 to the Interdistrict Settlement Account. As such, I'm going to talk a bit about the history of Interdistrict settlement, how the process has changed over time, and how it works now. Once that's done I'll bring the discussion back to Target2 in order to pin down the comparison in a more robust way. I don't claim to know everything about these mechanisms; I've just spent a few weeks educating myself, so if I am wrong on any aspect leave me a comment.

In first learning about these two mechanisms I had a very meta reaction. By meta, I mean the same sort of reaction faced by anyone asking who watches the watchers?  In this particular case, the more appropriate question is “who clears for the clearers?” 

Another thing that makes the Target2 and Interdistrict settlement mechanisms so fascinating is that, within the monetary architecture, they are “core”.  Take out the core and the whole structure disintegrates.


Yet despite their centrality to the superstructure, nobody (except for a few cloistered central bankers) really knows much these mechanisms. It is only now that imbalances are cropping up that we the public find the inclination to catch up on how these arcane but vital systems function.

All sorts of commentators have already explained how Target2 works and the imbalances that have arisen. I won’t touch on these; just search Google for Target2. What follows is a discussion of the Federal Reserve Interdistrict Settlement Account.