You might wonder what PhDs in Physics and Maths do at investment banks. I used to wonder the same before I joined. Yes, there are some tough mathematical puzzles to be solved in the course of devising pricing and execution algorithms (part of the work that us quants did), which probably kept them interested. However, the one activity for which these pure science PhDs were prized for, and which they spent most of their time doing, was C++ coding. Yeah, you read that right. These guys could write mean algorithms – I don’t know if even Computer Science graduates (and there were plenty of those) could write as clean (and quick) C++ code as these guys.

While most banks stress heavily on diversity, and makes considerable efforts (in the form of recruitment, affiliation groups, etc.)  to ensure a diverse workplace, it is not enough to prevent a large portion of quants coming from a similar kind of background. And when you put large numbers of Physics and Math PhDs together, it is inevitable that there is some degree of groupthink. You have the mavericks like me who like to model things differently, but if everyone else in your organization thinks one way, who do you go to in order to push your idea? You stop dropping your own ideas and start thinking like everyone else does. And you become yet another cog in the big quant wheel.

The biggest problem with hardcore Math people working on trading strategies is that they do not seek to solve a business problem through their work – they seek to solve a math problem, which they will strive to do as elegantly and correctly as it is possible. It doesn’t matter to the quants if the assumption of asset prices being lognormal is widely off the mark. In fact, they don’t care how the models behave. All they care about is about their formulae and results being correct – GIVEN the model of the market. I remember once spending a significant amount of time (maybe a couple of weeks) looking for bugs in my pricing logic because prices from two methods didn’t match up to the required precision of twelve decimal places (or was it fourteen? I’ve forgotten). And this after making the not-very-accurate assumption that asset prices are log normal. The proverb that says, “measure with a micrometer, mark with a chalk, cut with an axe”, is quite apt to describe the priorities of most quants.

Before I joined the firm, I used to wonder how bankers can be so stupid to make the kind of obvious silly errors (like assuming that housing prices cannot go down) that led to the global financial crisis of 2008. Two years at the firm, however, made me realize why these things happen. In fact, the bigger surprise, after the two years there, was about why such gross mistakes don’t occur more regularly. I think I’ve already talked about the culprits earlier in the post, but I should repeat myself.

First, a large number of guys building models come from similar backgrounds, so they think similarly. Because so many people think similarly, the rest train themselves to think similarly (or else get nudged out, by whatever means). So you have massive organizations full of massively talented brilliant minds which all think similarly! Who is to ask the uncomfortable questions? Next, who has time to ask the uncomfortable questions? Every one, from Partner downwards, has significant amount of “day to day work” to take care of every day. Bankers are driven hard (in that sense, and in that they are mostly brilliant, they do deserve the money they make), and everyone has a full plate (if you don’t it is an indication that you may not have a plate any more). There is little scope for strategic thinking. Again, remember that in an organization full of people who think similarly, people who have got promoted and made it to the top are likely to be those that think best along that particular axis. While it is the top management of the firm that is supposed to be responsible for the “big” strategic decisions, the kind of attention to details (which Math/Physics PhDs are rich in) that takes them to the top doesn’t leave them enough bandwidth for such thinking.

And so shit happens. Anyone who had the ability to think differently has either been “converted” to the conventional way of thinking, or is playing around with big bucks at some tiny hedge fund somewhere – because he found that it wasn’t possible to grow significantly in a place where most people think different to the way he thinks, and no one has the patience for his thinking.

This is the real failure in investment banking (markets) culture that has led to innumerable crises. The screwing over of clients and loss of “culture” in terms of ethics is a problem that has existed for a long time, and nothing new, contrary to what Greg Smith (formerly of Goldman Sachs) has written. The real failure of banking culture is this promotion of one-dimensional in-line-with-the-party thought, and the curbs against thinking and acting contrary to popular (in the firm) wisdom. It is this failure of culture that has led to the large negative shocks to the economy in the years gone by, and it is these shocks that have led common people to lose money rather than one off acts by banks where they don’t necessarily act in the interest of clients. And irrespective of how many Business Standards Committees and Risk Committees banks constitute, it is unlikely that this risk is going to go away any time soon. And I can’t think of a regulatory cure against this.

In the course of a rather elaborate shower this morning, I started thinking about the global economic crisis. I thought of the crisis of 2008. I thought about the Arab countries where there is revolution. And I thought about Greece. And I began to wonder how such events had been handled in the past.

A long time ago, most parts of the world were ruled by kings. People assumed kings had divine right to rule, and they rather gladly parted with a big part of their income as taxes. These taxes would go into the treasury, and be used to finance, among other things the administration of the kingdom. Those were times of great wars and battles, and hence it was important to keep a ready army, and the treasury also financed that.

The best thing about being a king was that you weren’t really questioned about your spending, and thus kings could also spend a substantial amount from the taxes they collected on themselves. On living a life of opulence, keeping several wives or concubines while large parts of the population went without any, on building monuments to their fathers, their forefathers and to themselves. If Behen Mayawati were a queen, for example, nobody would’ve dared to question her expenses on erecting statues of herself.

This lack of accountability did have an up-shot, though. The large surpluses that were generated for the royal treasury by means of squeezing every last ounce of blood from the subjects (who willingly gave it, remember) meant that kings could invest on art and architecture. Thus, palaces funded artists and musicians. Grand buildings and mausoleums and temples were built, and intricately decorated, the results of which are being seen today in terms of increased revenues from tourism. Sometimes, though, the kings would over-reach and spend much more than their kingdoms could possibly finance. What would happen then?

At first, there would be an attempt to increase taxes. For a while, people, still in the belief that kings were gods, would give in. And then they would begin to protest. And refuse to pay further taxes. In effect, they would go on protests ‘against austerity measures’. In the light of these protests, the king would need greater use of his army in order to consolidate his power. But his treasury would be dwindling.

With the army over-worked, but the kingdom’s finances tight thanks to a depleting treasury, dissent would start to brew in the army. Getting wind of this, a neighbouring king would see an opportunity. Soldiers would be bribed, though one cannot really call it that, tempted with higher salaries backed by a stronger treasury in order to change allegiances. And the neighbouring king would declare war.

The beleaguered king would now come under pressure both internally and externally. He would not be able to keep up the fight for long. The war would soon be lost and the king would either be dead or captured. And the people would gladly accept the new king as their new god, and start paying taxes to him.

The unfortunate thing about this parallel now is that there is now no neighbouring country to Greece that could possibly pull off an audacious annexation. Even the US, the attacker of last resort, has its own set of trouble. Essentially, Greece has chosen a good time to get into trouble – at a time when everyone else is also in trouble. And this also means that the people of Greece will continue to have no respite from this politics. In the medium run (Hail Gebreselassie) they will have no choice but to accept austerity.

The wise men at RBI, though, might argue the precise opposite. They will claim that in terms of already high volatility they wouldn’t want to do anything that might add to volatility, however marginally. This is a constant battle I faced in my last job, of delta improvements. I would frequently argued that when something was already high, making it delta higher was not so bad. I would argue in terms of making systemic changes that would reduce drastically the already high number, rather than focusing on the deltas.

Coming back to the rupee, you can also imagine the wise men talking about some stuff about black money and hawala money and all that. The thing with making the rupee fully convertible would be that hawala would be fully legal now, and the illegal practice would cease to exist. And when something becomes legalized it comes back to the mainstream rather than remaining on the margins, and that is always a good thing.

Then you can expect some strategic affairs experts to bring some national sovereignty and national security argument there. There will be people who will talk about the increase in counterfeit money (since it’ll become easier to “smuggle” rupees into India then), and about how foreign governments might pose a threat to India’s security by manipulating the rupee (who says that threat doesn’t already exist?)!

I don’t know. I don’t find any of these anti-full-convertibility arguments compelling. If we do adopt full convertibility, though, we can at least pay Iran for the oil we get from them, and that might for all you know help tackle inflation. I don’t, however, expect the RBI to act on this.

It is a similar case with travel agents. Vacation markets (flights, hotels, etc.) are nowhere as liquid as financial markets, and will never be. Sometimes, when you are booking holidays to a strange place, you know little about it, and hence commission a travel agent to find you a place to stay there. Given that you know little about that place, the agent can charge you hefty commissions, and make a nice spread. Of course, nowadays such opportunities are diminishing for agents, as you have websites such as Agoda which allow you to book hotels directly. Now, at one place you can compare the prices of different hotels, and have better information compared to what the agents traditionally offer you. The spread is on the downswing, I must think.

Then, don’t you think package tours are very similar to structured products? Structured products are nothing but a package of several risks packaged together. By acting as a counterparty on a structured product, a bank (even now ) can afford to charge fairly hefty fees. Structured products are illiquid,  and there is no publicly available “market price”, so it is easy for banks to make themselves good spreads on such products. However, all it takes to defeat this is an intelligent customer. All the customer needs to do is to try and understand the risks himself, and start “unbundling” them. Once he unbundles the risks, he can now trade each of them independently, on more liquid markets, and get a much better price than what bankers will offer him. The catch here is that he’ll need to put in that effort in unbundling.

It’s the same with package tours. Given the bundles, it is easy for the agents to make higher spreads. However, if you as a customer simply unbundle the package (hotels, transport, food, etc.), you can find out the price of each (available on sites like agoda and elsewhere) and find out for yourself the spread that the agent is making. And then you compare the agent’s premium with the “cost” of making all the bookings yourself and make an informed choice.

Apart from communication, among the greatest boons of the internet has to do with dismantling middleman monopolies. It is incredible how much use a little information can be of!

The reason winners don’t get too much footage is that firstly, they are widely distributed, and secondly they spent away all their money. Think about a stock or a CDO or a bond being a like a parcel that you play by passing the parcel. The only thing is that every time you receive the parcel, you make a payment, and then pass on the parcel after receiving a higher payment. Finally, when the whistle blows, one person has the parcel in his hand, and it explodes in his face, ruining him. We know enough about people like this. A large number of banks lost a lot of money holding parcels when the whistle blew. Some went bust, while others had to be bailed out by governments. We know enough of this story so I don’t need to repeat here.

What is interesting is about the winners. Every person who held the parcel for a small amount of time was a winner, albeit a small winner. There were several such winners, each of whom “won” a small amount of money, and spent it (remember that the asset bubble in the early noughties was responsible for increasing consumption among common people). This spending increased demand for various goods and services produced in several countries. This increasing demand led to greater investment in the production facilities of these goods and services. Apart from that, they also increased expectations of growth in demand of these goods.

The damage the crisis did on the way up was to skew expectations of growth in different sectors, thus skewing investment (both in terms of financial and human capital). The spending caused by “small wins” for consumers put in place unreasonable expectations, and by the time it was known that this increased demand came as a result of an asset bubble, a lot of capital had been committed. And this would create imbalances in the “real economy”.

Yes, the asset bubble of the last decade did produce winners. The winners begat more winners (people whose goods and services were bought). However the skewed expectations that the wins created were to cause damage in the longer term. Unfortunately, I don’t see this story being told adequately, when the financial crisis is being talked about. After all, the losers are more spectacular.

I remember both my father and I abusing him (Lingaraj) for this method which would only make the jam worse. However, he would persist. And we soon found that he wasn’t unique in his methods. It is the favoured method of most Bangalore drivers. Thus, whenever there is a minor jam somewhere, thousands of Lingarajs clog the “return lane” in all directions, and end up making it worse.

The funny thing about Lingaraj’s method was that it was “too big to fail”. Having switched to the right lane, we would progress much faster (till the site of the jam, of course) than our law-abiding brethren stuck in the left lane. There, someone who had taken responsibility of clearing the jam (not necessarily a cop) would realize that a necessary condition to clear the jam was to get our ambassador out of the right lane. And we would be given passage to shift to the left lane, and past the jam site, much ahead of those suckers who stuck to the law.

For drivers like Lingaraj, moving to the right lane in the wake of a jam is seen as “arbitrage”. And a necessary condition for it to be an arbitrage is that the offending vehicle is “too big to fail”, as I mentioned earlier. And given that in Bangalore, measures like traffic tickets sent by post aren’t that effective, this continues to be an arbitrage, and hence you still see so many drivers use this “method”.

While stuck in a traffic jam like that one last weekend (I was driving, and I consider myself socially responsible so stuck to the left lane), I realized how similar this was to the financial crisis of three years ago.

Traders noticed an “arbitrage” that didn’t really exist (namely, some AAA rated bonds traded at higher yields than other AAA rated bonds) and proceeded to trade on it. When they got into trouble the regulators realized that they had to be bailed out in order to clear the larger mess. The resemblance is uncanny.

So what should the regulators have done? Basically, drivers should’ve been prevented from getting to the right lane in the first place. Then there would have been no requirement to bail them out. In some places, this is done by installing road dividers, but in my experience I’ve seen that doesn’t help, too. People use whatever gaps are available in the divider to go to the right lane, and contribute to the jam.

The only option I can think of is some variation of postal tickets – having bailed out the drivers for going to the right lane, they need to be made to pay for it. Yeah, postal tickets (sending tickets by post for traffic violations) may not be effective, but that seems like the best we can do to regulate this problem. The upshot is that once we figure out how to solve this problem on the road, we can extend the solution to financial regulation, too!

Given that mad growth in petroleum prices have been fundamental to growth in inflation, and that high petroleum prices also impact the oil marketing companies and the government negatively, and that we import most of our petroleum needs, letting the rupee rise above its current level is a mechanism of reining in “realized petroleum prices”. If we were to let the rupee rise, inflation would get tamed (due to imports becoming cheaper), the government’s fiscal deficit would come down (subsidy will be reduced), but exporters will get shoved, and that can depress economic activity in the country. So letting the rupee rise is similar to increasing interest rates.

There are people who question whether the RBI should be controlling exchange rates at all, and wonder if it would be better if it were to float freely. I’ve also taken that view on several occasions in the past, but now that I think of it, there are liquidity concerns. USD/INR, EUR/INR, GBP/INR, etc. have no way near the kind of liquidity that exchange rates between two “developed currencies” (USD/EUR or USD/JPY) have. In other words, the amount of trade that happens in USD/INR is much lower than that of say USD/JPY.

Given this lack of liquidity, if let to float fully, there is a danger that the USD/INR rates can fluctuate wildly. Higher volatility in rates means higher hedging costs for both exporters and importers, and given that our foreign trade is fairly high, a wildly fluctuating exchange rate does no good in policy formulation. From this point of view, it is important that short-term volatility in the exchange rates is curbed, and to that extent I support the RBI’s decision to intervene in the FX markets.

However, if there is a sustained pressure on either side  (say the exchange rate trades for a sustained period at the edge of the “band” that the RBI is allowing the rupee to float in), the RBI should buckle and shift their bands, and let the markets have their way. While short-term volatility is not great, distorting market signals is worse.

An analogy that comes to mind is circuit breakers in the Indian stock market. Earlier, these circuit breakers were in place for all stocks (basically, they dictate that if the stock price fluctuates by more than a certain amount in a certain time period, trading in the stock will be halted for a certain amount of time). However, recent regulations have removed these circuit breakers for stocks on which derivatives are traded, which are the more liquid stocks. The circuit breakers, however, are still in place for the less liquid stocks

It’s a similar story in the FX markets. Given that USD/INR is still not too liquid (in terms of volumes), it is important that we have circuit breakers (i.e. RBI intervention). Once it reaches a certain “critical mass” (in terms of volumes ), however, the RBI can step away and let the rupee float.

(I haven’t looked at any data while writing this. All judgments are based on my perception of how certain numbers shape up)

Now, the S&P is a rating agency. Its job is to rate debt, categorizing it in terms of how likely an issuer is to honour the debt it issues. It is a privately held firm and it is not the job of the S&P to prevent global crises and save the world. In this case, the S&P has just done its job. And having been following the crisis for a while I’m of the opinion that it’s done the right thing (check Felix Salmon’s article on this; he says the downgrade is more due to the risk of the US’s willingness to not default, rather than its ability; given that there is no permanent solution yet to the debt ceiling and it issues all debt in its native currency).

If a simple move like this by a private company is going to bring down the world, it is because of screwed up regulations (read Basel 2 and Basel 3) that ended up giving way too much importance to firms such as this. And I’m sure the US had adequate representation at that meeting in Basel where the accord was adopted, so it can be partially held responsible for the enormous power that rating agencies currently wield.

The bottom line is that excessive regulations based on dodgy parameters have been responsible for a lot of the mess that we see today. #thatzwhy we need strong regulations.

So far, since the rating change was announced after US market hours on Friday evening, only one stock exchange has traded – the one in Saudi Arabia, and that has lost about 5%. While it can be argued that it is an extension of severe drops in the markets elsewhere in the second half of last week, at least a part of the drop can be explained by the US debt downgrade. Now, when markets elsewhere open tomorrow after the weekend, we can expect a similar bloodbath, with the biggest drop to be expected in the US markets.

Now, the whole purpose of ratings was supposed to be a quick indicator to lenders about credit risk of lending to a particular entity, and help them with marking up their loan rates appropriately. It was basically outsourcing and centralization of the creditworthiness process, so that each lender need not do the whole due diligence himself. You can argue in favour of ratings as a logical extension of Division of Labour. If lending is akin to making shoes, you can think of rating agencies analogous to leather tanners, to save each shoe maker the job of tanning the leather himself.

However, over the course of time, there have been two consequences. The first was dealt with sufficiently during the global crisis of 2008. That it is the debt issuer who pays for the ratings. It clearly points out to an agency problem, especially when the “debt issuers” were dodgy SPVs set up to create CDOs. The second is about ratings being brought into the regulatory ambit. The biggest culprit, if I’ve done my homework right, in this regard was the much-acclaimed Basel II norms for capital requirements in banking, which tied up capital requirements to the ratings of the loans that the banks had given out. This had disastrous consequences with respect to the mortgage crisis, but I’ll not touch upon that here.

What this rating-based regulation has done is to take away the wisdom of crowds in pricing the debt issued by a particular issuer. Normally, the way stock and bond prices work is by way of wisdom of crowds, since they represent the aggregate information possessed by all market participants. Different participants have different assumptions, and at each instant (or tick), they all come together in the form of one “market clearing price”.

In the absence of ratings, the cost of debt would be decided by the markets, with (figuratively) each participant doing his own analysis on the issuer’s creditworthiness and then deciding upon an interest yield that he is willing to accept to lend out to this issuer. Now, however, with ratings linked to capital requirements, the equation completely changes. If the rating of the debt increases, for the same amount of capital, the cap on the amount the banker can lend to this particular issuer jumps. And that means he is willing to accept a lower yield on the debt itself (think about it in terms of leverage).

Whereas in the absence of ratings, the full information known to all market participants would go into the price of debt, the presence of ratings and their role in regulation prevents all this information flowing out to the market in terms of the price of debt. And thus the actual health of the issuer cannot be logically determined by its bond price alone – which is a measure that is continuously updated (every tick, as we say it). And that prevents free flow of information, which results in gross mispricing, and large losses when mistakes are discovered.

I don’t have anything against ratings per se. I think they are a good mechanism for a lay investor to get an estimate of  the credit risk of lending to a particular issuer. What has made ratings dangerous, though, is its link to banking regulation. The sooner that gets dismantled the better it is to prevent future crises.

People like models. People like models because it gives them a feeling of being in control. When you observe a completely random phenomenon, financial or otherwise, it causes a feeling of unease. You feel uncomfortable that there is something that is beyond the realm of your understanding, which is inherently uncontrollable. And so, in order to get a better handle of what is happening, you resort to a model.

The basic feature of models is that they need not be exact. They need not be precise. They are basically a broad representation of what is actually happening, in a form that is easily understood. As I explained above, the objective is to describe and understand something that we weren’t able to fundamentally comprehend.

All this is okay but the problem starts when we ignore the assumptions that were made while building the model, and instead treat the model as completely representative of the phenomenon it is supposed to represent. While this may allow us to build on these models using easily tractable and precise mathematics, what this leads to is that a lot of the information that went into the initial formulation is lost.

Mathematicians are known for their affinity towards precision and rigour. They like to have things precisely defined, and measurable. You are likely to find them going into a tizzy when faced with something “grey”, or something not precisely measurable. Faced with a problem, the first thing the mathematician will want to do is to define it precisely, and eliminate as much of the greyness as possible. What they ideally like is a model.

From the point of view of the mathematician, with his fondness for precision, it makes complete sense to assume that the model is precise and complete. This allows them to bringing all their beautiful math without dealing with ugly “greyness”. Actual phenomena are now irrelevant.The model reigns supreme.

Now you can imagine what happens when you put a bunch of mathematically minded people on this kind of a problem. And maybe even create an organization full of them. I guess it is not hard to guess what happens here – with a bunch of similar thinking people, their thinking becomes the orthodoxy. Their thinking becomes fact. Models reign supreme. The actual phenomenon becomes a four-letter word. And this kind of thinking gets propagated.

Soon the people fail to  see beyond the models. They refuse to accept that the phenomenon cannot obey their models. The model, they think, should drive the phenomenon, rather than the other way around. The tails wagging the dog, basically.

I’m not going into the specifics here, but this might give you an idea as to why the financial crisis happened. This might give you an insight into why obvious mistakes were made, even when the incentives were loaded in favour of the bankers getting it right. This might give you an insight as to why internal models in Moody’s even assumed that housing prices can never decrease.

I think there is a lot more that can be explained due to this love for models and ignorance of phenomena. I’ll leave them as an exercise to the reader.

Apart from commenting about the content of this post, I also want your feedback on how I write when I write with pencil-on-paper, rather than on a computer.