Human capital bonds

After last week's post on the relative benefits of renting versus buying a home, Ryan Decker sent me to his earlier post on the subject. In it Ryan mentions an interesting concept I'd never heard of before; lifecycle investing.  Developed by Ian Aryes and Barry Nalebuff (pdf), the idea is that investors in their twenties can reduce risk and improve returns not only by investing all their savings in the stock market, but by going one step further and taking out a loan to buy stock.

Odd advice, right? But there are good reasons for this. Aryes and Nalebuff's thesis begins with the idea that we all own something called a "human capital bond." This is the present value of our lifetime stream of saved wages. Imagine a young investor with an average tolerance for risk who has just entered the labour force. He/she possesses a human capital bond that is currently worth, say, $500,000. Let's assume that this bond is expected to be quite stable in value, maybe because the young investor has just taken on a unionized government job. It make senses for our investor to reduce their allocation to this low-risk human capital bond in order to get exposure to an appropriate amount of riskier equity, thus boosting overall returns. Say the ideal equity share is around 50%, or $250,000. Waiting for the paychecks to roll in is far too slow a way to build a $250,000 stake in equities. Far quicker to sell half the human capital bond right now—or $250,000—and use it to buy the stake in equities outright.

The problem is that our investor can't simply sell away $250,000 worth of human capital. A spot market for human capital bonds doesn't exist. Absent the appropriate market, Aryes and Nalebuff believe that the way to approximate the ideal ratio is to use debt. By leveraging their meagre savings at a ratio of 2:1, a young investor with (say) $5,000 in savings in the first year of employment can get exposure to  $10,000 worth of stock, thus getting twice as close to the ideal amount of diversification. Ayres and Nalebuff refer to this as time diversification. Rather than waiting till mid age to have accumulated an appropriately diversified portfolio, do so as early as possible.

I think that it makes a lot of sense to imagine ourselves as if we held a Ayres/Nalebuff human capital bond and make our best effort to diversify around this asset. However, what if our bond is risky rather than safe? Maybe we make ends meet via a series of freelance jobs rather than perpetual government employment, or maybe we get by on commission income which can vary dramatically year-over-year. If so, the asset that represents our capitalized savings should probably be conceived not as a bond, but as a relatively volatile human capital "share." Instead of levering up to buy even more shares, a freelancer or salesperson seeking to diversify across time should borrow and acquire a stable asset with low drift, say like a mortgaged home.*

Liquidity is another facet worth considering. To own a human capital bond (or share) means to be terribly illiquid. Unlike a regular bond (or share), these instruments can't be rapidly swapped for other assets.

Owning an illiquid portfolio comes at large emotional cost. Consider that we are mere specks of dust being tossed around by currents far too large and complex to control, let alone understand. Against this awful uncertainty, extremely liquid financial assets, specifically instruments like deposits and banknotes, are our best lines of defence. When the universe suddenly knocks us down, liquid assets can be deployed to cope. When it throws us a bone, they can help us seize the moment. So while deposits and cash provide little in the form of a financial return (they are expected to steadily inflate away in value), they compensate by providing huge non-pecuniary flows of convenience, relief, and confidence.

When a young investor is advised to lever up and invest in either stocks or real estate, both of which are more liquid than a human bond but still not terribly liquid, they are being asked to bear some of the burdens of uncertainty. After all, leverage means running down inventories of cash and deploying back up lines of credit. Too much leverage and our investor loses their only hedge against the unknown. This lack of liquidity could subject them to enormous emotional costs when the proverbial shit hits the fan (or an unforeseen life changing opportunity must be passed up).

So young investors need to be careful that they take on an appropriate amount of debt (too little may be as bad as too much) and acquire suitable assets. To begin with, they must do their best to estimate the present value and riskiness of their largest asset, their Aryes/Nalebuff human capital bond. Only then can they determine the merits of borrowing to diversify across time; some assets promise significant returns (like shares) and some of them don't (like houses), the best option depending on the nature of the individual's capital bond. They also need to ask themselves a philosophical question: to what degree can the world be understand and controlled and to what degree is their fate governed by random and unpredictable forces? The more chaos our young investor sees, the more they should keep themselves liquid; the more order they see, the less liquid. There is no one-size fits all solution here, no trustworthy rule of thumb. But I'm sure you'll figure it out.

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Related post: Labour Shares™: Beating capital at its own game

*Could housing booms be a function of forces that make human capital bonds increasingly risky, say like increased contract work and the demise of the traditional promise of lifetime employment offered by corporations? To offset the growing risk of the standard human capital bond, everyone may simultaneously try to offset by purchasing a home, traditionally a low return asset.

Why (not) rent your home?

Ted Nasmith, An Unexpected Morning Visit

"Why not just get a mortgage and buy the place rather than throwing money away on rent?" That's what people often say to folks like me who rent rather than buy. This post is my response.

Let me start off by saying that I'm neither a housing bear nor a bull. I have no idea which way Canadian real estate prices are going to go. My decision to choose renting over ownership has to do with other factors.

I don't have enough resources to buy a house or condo without getting a mortgage. Those who tell me I'm throwing my money away on rent and should buy are implicitly counseling me to take on a lot of leverage. Let's pretend that I'm comfortable accepting that level of debt. Why should I purchase a home with the borrowed funds and not buy some combination of the Vanguard Total World Stock ETF and the Total International Bond ETF?

To favor a home over the Vanguard ETF option is to assume that the risk-adjusted total return on the home exceeds that of the ETFs. Let's unpack this comparison a bit. ETFs provide a return that is purely pecuniary; some combination of price appreciation, interest, and dividends. Homes also provide a pecuniary return—they can appreciate in value. But a home is special. In addition to the pecuniary return, it simultaneously offers a non-pecuniary return, namely shelter. We can't eat in an ETF, or sleep in it, or entertain friends in it, but we can do these things with a house.

The total return on a home should be about equal to ETFs. Markets are competitive, after all, so if one asset offers an excess return, people will compete to harvest those gains, eventually arbitraging them away. Thus the total expected dividends, interest, and price appreciation from an ETF should be about equal to the sum of a home's expected price appreciation and the value of the shelter it provides. Shelter is a sizable service. This means that a home's expected life-time price appreciation needn't be very large to attract buyers. So an ETF's expected return will exceed a home's potential for price appreciation by a significant wedge. This wedge is the extra pecuniary return on ETFs held.

How big is the wedge? We can try to get a feel for it by looking at long term data. Using numbers compiled by Robert Shiller, I've calculated annualized real returns (i.e. adjusted for inflation) for both U.S. homes and equities going back to 1890. I don't have data that would approximate the Vanguard Bond ETF, and I don't know of any comparably long Canadian data series.

Equities, as represented by the S&P, have provided a real return of 6.5% per year including  price appreciation and reinvested dividends. Shiller's U.S. housing price index has yielded a much smaller 0.35% annualized real return over the last 120 years. Even if we omit the brutal credit crisis years of 2006-2015, U.S. homes still only provide a 0.54% return.

So when anyone boasts that unlike me they're not wasting money on rent, I accuse them of throwing away the extra wedge they could be earning by owning Vanguard ETFs.

Anyone who borrows to harvest the extra wedge on ETFs is left with a problem, however. They can't just sleep on the street, they need to acquire shelter. We're all born with a short position in housing. And that means giving up part of the excess wedge to a landlord. How much of this wedge? Again, since markets are competitive, my bet is that pretty much all of the wedge will have to be forfeited. If there was a significant chunk left over, everyone would choose to rent, driving rents higher until returns had equalized. At the end of the day, there probably aren't significant excess returns to be harvested by either home ownership or renting/investing in ETFs.

There are a few other stylized facts that colour the rent versus buy decision. Buying and selling a home will set you back thousands of dollars in transaction costs whereas it costs less than $25 to buy and sell ETFs. Secondly, a Vanguard ETF can be sold in a few seconds; a home can take weeks. Lastly, it costs just a few basis points to maintain an ETF (think management fees) whereas a house can cost thousands to keep in shape. To compensate for all these drawbacks (which are sizable), a home must offer a pretty high expected return.

What ultimately tips me towards the ETF option is the opportunity for diversification. Leveraging up on a single asset exposed to one street in a single city is a gamble. The two Vanguard ETFs, on the other hand, offer global exposure to thousands of different businesses, both large and small. Between renting and buying, renting seems to me to be the more prudent approach. I'm no gunslinger.

Which leads me in a meandering way back to Robert Shiller, specifically his derivatives markets for home prices. I'd certainly reconsider the home ownership route is if I could hedge away some of the risk of housing price declines, say by swapping out exposure to changes in the price of my home for a more diversified return. Most attempts to create housing derivative markets have failed, so until we have a futures market in housing prices, give me ETFs.

A growing liquidity-premium on land

The Cider Mill, by Robin Moline

In general, the real price of land has been increasing all over the world, especially since the early 1990s. (Japan and Germany are the exception). The recent credit crisis hurt this trend in a few countries like Ireland, Spain, Netherlands, and the US, but in other countries like Belgium, Canada, Sweden, and Australia the secular rise in housing prices remains intact.

A popular explanation for the rise in land prices are the various versions of the secular stagnation thesis advocated by folks like Paul Krugman and Larry Summers. According to Krugman, if the natural rate of interest has become persistently negative—i.e. new capital projects are expected to yield a negative return—then investors will look to existing durable assets like gold or land that yield no less than a 0% return. The prices of these goods will be bid upwards, bubble-like. Or, as Summers puts it, if the return on capital is below the economy's growth rate, then intrinsically valueless ponzi assets may be recruited as stores of value to bridge the distance between an individual's present and the future. (Krugman and Summers's ideas are a bit hard to follow, but Nick Rowe has a bunch of helpful posts on these ideas).

In short, these theories explain the paradoxical conjunction of bubbles with a sluggish economy and low inflation.

I think that a better explanation for the rise in real land prices is the emergence of large liquidity premium on land. This premium isn't an irrational "bubble" phenomenon. Rather, over the last decade or two finance and real estate professionals have put in large amounts of time, sweat, and tears to improve the underlying infrastructure that facilitates the transfer of residential land. A few of these improvements include the optimization of the mortgage lending process by the adoption of automated underwriting systems, the development of mortgage scoring, higher loan-to-value ratios on mortgage loans, and the creation of the mortgage-backed securities market.

All these improvements mean that your parcel of land is not like your grandfather's parcel—it can be sold off, parceled up, rented out, collateralized, and re-hypothecated faster than ever. In short, land has become more like cash. Whereas in the past the purchase of a house made you dramatically less liquid, these days that same house impairs your liquidity position much less.

Like any other asset owner, land owners expect to enjoy three services: a pecuniary return such as capital appreciation, a non-pecuniary consumption yield, and liquidity services. In a world in which arbitrage ensures that all assets provide roughly the same return, any improvement in the liquidity services provided by land reduces the amount of capital appreciation people expect to earn on their land parcel (we'll assume the consumption return is constant). This reduction in expected capital appreciation comes about via a rise in land prices now relative to their expected future price. So the steady improvements in the liquidity services thrown off by land have created a stepwise rise in land prices. This rise might appear to be a bubble, but it's only the market's warm response to the finance industry's consistent upgrades to the mechanisms that facilitate transfers of land.

If you believe John Maynard Keynes, what we're seeing now is just a reversion to ancient times. In Chapter 17 of his General Theory, Keynes wrote: "It may be that in certain historic environments the possession of land has been characterized by a high liquidity-premium in the minds of owners of wealth..." He goes on to note that the high liquidity premiums formerly attaching to the ownership of land are now attached to money. It may be the case that in modern times these liquidity premia are detaching from traditional forms of money like deposits and returning to land, the evidence being the rise of land prices and decline in traditional deposit banking.

When a market bursts, the stagnation thesis has it that people have spontaneously switched from one bubble to a new one, or that the underlying features of the economy (i.e the negative natural interest rate) have changed. If land price increases are being driven by improvements in liquidity services rather than low-to-negative rates of return and resulting bubble-seeking behavior, than snap-backs may occur when the underlying architecture supporting that liquidity fails. Alternatively, different networks of finance professionals may be working hard to build up their own asset's liquidity, thus competing away the liquidity premium of the incumbent asset.

Here's an interesting data point: While almost every western nation experienced a housing price boom between the mid 1990s and 2008, Germany somehow missed the boat.

From the Economist's very useful housing price chart tool.

Was Germany somehow exempt from the stagnation that other Western nation's face? Perhaps Germans selected a different bubble asset than land? Or did the underlying mechanics governing the liquidity of the German market for residential land stay constant whereas those of most nation's improved?

We know that while MBS markets were deepening all over the world, German law did not permit MBS issuance until 1997, putting it far behind the mortgage slicing & dicing eight-ball. Rather, German residential real estate finance continued to be underpinned the centuries old pfandrief, or covered bond. While  the originator of an MBS can parcel away mortgages into a bankrupt-remote entity, the assets underlying a pfandriefe are required by law to stay on the issuer's balance sheet. The mortgages comprising MBS often have up to 100% loan-to-value ratios, but German law requires that pfandbriefe be backed by mortgage loans with a maximum of 60% of the home's "lending value" (lending value is more conservative than market value), which in practice means that Germans often have to put up 60-70% cash to buy a home. Such high requirements would surely stifle the liquidity of residential land, especially compared to places like Canada where permitted LTVs went from 80% to 100% in the space of ten years.

So while Keynes's liquidity premium may have migrated back to land in much of the western world, this doesn't seem to be the case in Germany. There are surely advantages to having avoided a rise in housing prices. On the other other hand, owning a liquid house rather than an illiquid one is a boon—it provides an individual with a fluid asset for dealing with an uncertain future. From this perspective, any attempt to stifle some asset's liquidity by limiting the finance industry's ability to innovate reduces the range of coping mechanisms that  a society is presented with.

P.S. I already wrote versions of this post. Here are these ideas applied to equity markets, here they are applied to bond markets. Same idea, different day, different market.

How to stop a hyperinflation

Hjalmar Schact and Montague Norman

If you were in charge of a central bank during hyperinflation, what would you do to stop it? Here's a brief but detailed account of how the German hyperinflation was halted in November 1923.

What is so unusual about the end to the German hyperinflation was its suddenness. Within days of a series of monetary reforms implemented in mid November 1923, price rises came to a dead stop. You have to put this into context to properly appreciate it. A loaf of bread, which cost 30,000 marks on August 30, 1923, rose to 300,000 by mid-September, fifteen million marks by mid-October, and 165 billion marks by early November. And suddenly it stabilized.

There were two not-entirely unrelated reforms implemented that month that halted the inflation:

1. the creation of a new unit of account called the rentenmark.
2. the stabilization of the existing unit of account, the paper mark.

The Rentenmark

With the Reichsbank's paper marks having lost all credibility, in August 1923 legislation was introduced in the German parliament to open a new bank of issue. After some discussion, on October 17 the Rentenbank was created. The Rentenbank was to institute a brand new unit-of-account called the rentenmark. A rentenmark unit was to be defined as one gold mark, or 1⁄2790 kg pure gold. The gold mark was the country's old unit-of-account which had been forsaken during the war. The bank would issue notes called rentenmarks which were to trade at their defined gold amount.

The catch was this. Historically when a nation's unit-of-account (like pounds or dollars) was defined in terms of certain quantity of gold, the currency issued by that nation's central bank was made convertible into gold. If inconvertible, then the currency risked floating away from its defined gold value. But the rentenmark was not convertible into gold.

How then was the definition of the rentenmark as 1⁄2790 kg pure gold to be enforced in the marketplace? It's a complex but interesting mechanism. Four percent of the value of all German private agricultural land and industrial property was to be mortgaged, these "forced" mortages handed over to the Rentenbank as capital. The name given to these mortages was Rentenbriefe. Rentenbriefe represented a first lien on property owners, and each bond paid a 6% coupon stated in gold marks ie. interest and principle payments were indexed to gold. Furthermore, all rentenmarks were convertible into rentenbriefe at a rate of 500 to 1. Rentenbriefe, it should be noted, were not convertible into gold.

To sum up this unusual structure, circulating rentenmarks were to be convertible into rentenbriefe, which in turn represented a quantity of German land and property expressed in gold ounces. Rentenmarks, it seems, were a land-backed currency.

Horace Greely Hjalmar Schact, who many of us have read about in the excellent book Lords of Finance, was appointed to run the new Rentenbank. The notes debuted on November 16 and were immediately embraced by the German populace, trading for goods and services at their defined gold value. In his book The Economics of Inflation, Constantino Bresciani Turroni called this "miracle of the Rentenmark".  A currency defined in terms of gold with no actual gold-backing and only land-backing had been successfully floated. The solidity of the rentenmark need only be remarked upon by the fact that by Jan 1924, only 1,600 rentenmarks had been presented to the bank for conversion into rentenbriefe.

The stabilization of the paper mark

The German state now had two units of account, each with a related media of exchange. The rentenmark, defined in terms of gold, was stable, but the paper mark continued to hyperinflate, even after the rentenmark's debut. On November 13 one dollar bought 3.9 trillion paper marks, 6.7 trillion marks on the November 17, and 13 trillion by the end of the month.

To help stabilize the paper mark, that November the government was officially banned from funding itself through the Reichsbank, restoring to the central bank a much-needed degree of independence from the government.

At the same time, the Reichbank changed its commercial lending policy. It had been incredibly profitable to borrow from the Reichsbank during the hyperinflation because its lending rate was kept artificially low. Businesses and speculators borrowed marks to buy stocks, goods, or dollars, and after the mark had lost much of its value, bought them back to cover their loans several weeks later. Even though the lending rate was eventually increased to 90% in September 1923, businesses and speculators were in no way dissuaded from borrowing from the Reichsbank since – at the speed at which depreciation was occurring – only a rate in the thousands would prevent them from profitably borrowing, shorting, and later buying back marks to repay their loan.

As part of its new lending policy, all new advances were now to be indexed to the value of the mark in forex markets. Thus, should a business borrow a million paper marks from the Reichsbank, and the mark depreciated vis-à-vis the dollar, come maturity three weeks later the business would be required to pay back the million marks plus some penalty for depreciation. This dramatically increased the cost of borrowing from the bank.

Lastly, the Reichsbank's policy of accepting privately-created "notgeld" at par was ended. During the hyperinflation, severe currency shortages had encouraged corporations, towns, and municipalities to issue private currency alternatives, or notgeld. The Reichsbank gave these currencies legitimacy by accepting them at the bank's clearinghouse at the same rate as all other paper marks. By ceasing to accept notgeld, these alternative media suddenly lost a large part of their moneyness.

On November 20, Schact formally defined the paper mark against the US dollar. One dollar was to be equal to 4.2 trillion marks. The market simply didn't believe the Reichsbank could defend this definition. A few days later the mark's value had fallen so that it required 13 trillion marks to buy one dollar. To return the paper mark to its defined value, Schact and the Reichsbank proceeded to pull the rug out from under the market. Schact can explain it best:

The speculators, however, did not believe that the Reichsbank would be able to hold this rate of exchange rate for any length of time, and bought dollar after dollar on time bargains at a much higher rate of exchange... This speculation was not only hostile to the country's economic interests, it was also stupid. In previous years such speculation had been carried on either with loans which the Reichsbank granted lavishly, or with emergency money which one printed oneself, and then exchanged for Reichsmarks.

Now, however, three things had happened. The emergency money had lost its value. It was no longer possible to exchange it for Reichsmarks. The loans formerly easily obtainable from the Reichsbank were no longer granted, and the Rentenmark could not be used abroad. For amongst the stipulations governing the issue of the Rentenmark, there was one which forbade the surrender of Rentenmarks to foreigners. For these reasons the speculators were unable to pay for the Dollars they had bought when payment became due. They were forced to sell the Dollars back, and the Reichsbank was not prepared to pay more than the official rate of 4.2 billion Marks to the Dollar. The speculators made considerable losses. A bare ten days later the rate of exchange of 4.2 billion fixed by the Reichsbank had re-established itself. (The Magic of Money)

To sum up, short sellers needed to buy back paper marks to cover their shorts, but there were no sellers except for the Reichsbank. According to Adam Fergusson in When Money Dies (pdf), speculators lost up to 60% of their capital and “took off for Paris and went to work on the franc.” The upshot is that by the end of November, just fifteen days after the initial reforms were floated, Germany had two stable units of account, the rentenmark and paper mark. 

And that, folks, is how you end a hyperinflation.