€V€RYBODY PANIC

 

Not that kind of euro. Alright, as long as we're making jokes, and this is probably the 3rd image we've run of a guy with a purse, what is the purpose behind this? What does a man ever need to carry beyond keys (one pocket), a wallet (another pocket), and a phone (third pocket)? With a standard 4-pocket pair of pants, that leaves one pocket free for lollipops to give to itinerant children.

 

Unless we’re stuck in a foreign airport, the vast majority of us don’t exchange currencies. But good Lord, do we hear about it. Will (European country) drop the euro? Will its value fall through the floor? Is the recent talk about the euro’s troubles just an indirect ploy to get us to buy gold? How does this affect the U.S. economy?

Nobody knows anything. Nor does anyone remember anything.

Financial journalists have to report every 1¢ swing in the value of the euro as of great significance. Each movement the markets make in a given day – even a given hour – is reported upon ad nauseam. Why? Honestly, the biggest reason is that there’s a 24-hour news cycle to fill. It’s human nature to overemphasize the importance of how we each choose to spend our time. If you don’t believe that, find a teacher and listen to her yammer about how important her job is. The same applies to everyone whose job it is to provide you with financial information. Something utterly unimportant – the euro losing a tiny bit of its value vis-a-vis the dollar – can inspire a 6-person roundtable discussion on CNBC.

That being said, some wags are already calling for the euro’s funeral dirge. Here’s why, kind of:

The euro entered the world on the first day of 1999, trading at $1.174. A year later, it fell to the point where it equaled the dollar for the first time. That fall the euro sank to its nadir, around 84¢. It again outvalued the dollar in July of 2002, briefly (and barely) dipped below again, and has been worth at least a dollar since that November. In July of 2008 it reached its zenith, trading at $1.58. Now it sits at around $1.32, and that alone gives many cause to question the euro’s future.

The euro is the national currency of France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Greece, Andorra, Montenegro, Kosovo, Vatican City, San Marino, Monaco, Slovenia, Slovakia, Portugal, the Netherlands, Belgium, Ireland, Luxembourg, Malta, Finland, Estonia, Cyprus and Austria.

Notice any European country missing?

Yes, Switzerland too. We were thinking of a nation slightly larger. Come on, you can do this. Bad food, no fluoride, used to have an Empire that the sun never set on?

Correct, the United Kingdom.

In 1990, back when the euro was not even a foul thought in its father’s head (a line stolen from Phil Hendrie for just such an occasion), Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was steadfast in her opposition to eventually dropping the pound sterling in favor of a transnational currency. Steadfast, and outnumbered. Her objections had nothing to do with convenience, national pride or exchangeability. They were much more pragmatic.

Thatcher argued, in print no less, that a modern and robust economy – we’ll call it Country A – and a basket case like Country B can’t share a currency. For one thing, a transnational currency would lower (and has lowered) interest rates. The weaker the replaced national currency, the greater the decrease in the interest rate. Which makes sense – a transnational replacement currency is necessarily weaker than the strong currencies it replaced and stronger than the weak ones it replaced. The interest rate is the price of money. The cheaper money is – i.e., the less it costs to borrow – the lower the interest rate. The countries that had weak currencies going in, such as Portugal and Italy, now found it easier to borrow money. And borrow they did.

Greece, too. Thatcher even mentioned Greece by name. It’s “Country B” above. Country A is Germany, Europe’s most powerful.

There are legitimate advantages to a weak currency; one weak when compared to others, that is (as contrasted with one weak when compared to itself historically.) For one thing, it makes exports cheaper. The U.S. dollar has lost around 10% of its value relative to the New Zealand dollar over the past year. American exporters who would never have been competitive enough to sell to Kiwis before have a brand new market/clientele. To a New Zealander, American goods are now that much cheaper. When a small country has the weak currency and larger countries have the comparatively strong ones, the effect on the small country’s potential for exports (and hence growth) is even greater. But the American dollar and the New Zealand dollar are necessarily different and unequal. It’s when two countries’ currencies should differ, but are prevented from doing so, that problems exacerbate.

Trouble arises when a small country (Greece) can now borrow more money than it did under its old currency, while sharing the new currency with stronger economies. When the euro become reality, it artificially made Greece’s currency more robust while doing the opposite to Germany’s. Greece could borrow more than before. And did. Boy, did it ever. Overextended itself, couldn’t pay its bills. So Germany, by virtue of being the local heavyweight, has to lend billions to Greece. If it doesn’t, Greece has incentive to quit the euro. A less-circulated euro means other weak countries would want to follow suit.

This is what the pound sterling has done with respect to the euro since the latter’s inception. The higher the graph, the stronger the pound. The Brits might be buying goods cheaply from the continent while having to sell them elsewhere, but at least they’re not worrying about their currency imploding.

One more thing. To use the euro, a country needs to qualify. (Several other countries are in line to adopt it as their currency: Latvia, Lithuania, and Denmark, among others.) Qualification means keeping inflation and long-term interest rates under particular thresholds, and the same for debt and deficit (relative to gross domestic product.)

Guess what? When all a government has to do to get access to cheap money is provide certain numbers to the European Central Bank, that government wants those numbers to look as good as possible. Honesty is at best a secondary goal here. The Greeks lied through their ouzo-scented teeth. The Portuguese, Italians and Spaniards weren’t all that forthright either. But now, it’s too late for the ECB to say, “No, you have to go back to your original currency.” Don’t think for a moment that something similar couldn’t happen in the United States, with a Department of the Treasury telling enough lies to keep the cheap money flowing. There’s no transnational currency for the U.S. to back out of, but there’s plenty of economic havoc to wreak.

It’s hard to appreciate how an artifice can create such damage, but it can. In a healthy system, currencies can trade against each other in the open market, correcting imbalances and reinforcing the economic soundness of each currency’s issuing government. When drachma and marken are operating as de jure equals, Greece eats itself into a coma. Which Germany then has to arouse.

“Adapt or die” is a truism throughout life. It’s hard to adapt when you’re forcefully prevented from doing so.

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The Multimillionaires Who Need Your Money

This post ran in slightly different form (well, vastly different form) on Investopedia a few months ago. If you can’t get enough of us here, we’re all over Investopedia. 

Estimated net worth, $1.48 billion. In dire need of a handout. Or a hand up. Either is fine.

 

The Miami (né Florida) Marlins moved into a new ballpark this week. Total cost to taxpayers: obscene. But it’s justified, because a business location that size is far too large to be built with the owner’s own money. Besides, the stadium itself is an economic catalyst. With it, neighborhood businesses (“bars and restaurants” is the catchphrase we’re obligated to use here) see increased activity, and everyone wins.

Which is falsehood on a colossal scale. By the same logic, you can argue that taxpayers ought to foot the bill for every gas station, supermarket, movie theater and hardware store. Of course those businesses don’t get taxpayer funding, nor will they ever. And why not? Because politicians and blind fans have “civic pride” or something in their sports teams, but not their small businesses.

The Marlins play in a climate so conducive to baseball that major league teams from cold-weather cities have been training in it since decades before the Marlins were founded in 1993. Yet the Marlins routinely draw fewer fans than any other team, despite winning 2 world championships in their brief history. And the new park has a (retractable) roof on it. The Marlins estimate they’ll play only 11 or so open-air home games a year.

But because the Marlins used to play in a stadium they shared with a football team, they were losing money. They really had no choice. Now, the new park will enable cash flow, profits, and more importantly, a permanent presence in South Florida. The fans, such as they are, won’t have to worry about the Marlins moving to Indianapolis or San Antonio or some other city that’s big enough to house a major league team but that doesn’t have a stadium.

Is that true? Were the Marlins really losing money? Or any other team, for that matter? The official word is that most major league teams do operate in the red, which makes you wonder why the people who own the teams don’t bail out with their dignity and a few remaining dollars intact. But of course, this is all conjecture. You’d have to get your hands on a team’s financial statements to confirm. No pro sports team has been publicly traded since the Boston Celtics were, in the late ‘90s, so the documents are mostly unavailable to us.

Or were, until a few months ago when an anonymous source forwarded Deadspin the financial statements of several major league baseball teams. (Deadspin did the lion’s share of work for this post, but here’s full attribution.)

The statements included those of one of the perennially sorriest teams in sports, the Pittsburgh Pirates. They’re about to embark on their 20th consecutive losing season, by far the longest such streak in the history of North American pro sports. The Pirates moved into a new $216 million park in the middle of that streak, built courtesy of their generous friends the taxpayers. Did the new park boost attendance?

No. Ahead of the Marlins, the Pirates have drawn the second-fewest fans in the league in each of the last 7 years. (We told you they were consistent.) So the Pirates must be losing money hand over fist, right? Owner Bob Nutting has to be desperate to sell. Heck, if you’ve got a few bucks in the bank and a good credit history, you could probably name your price.

In 2008, a year in which the Pirates’ payroll was slightly more than the $45,047,000 it’s since been whittled down to, they lost 95 games and turned a $14,465,406 profit. On which they paid $57,157 in taxes. Or .4%.

Ticket revenue was $32,129,368, far too little to cover salaries. So how did the Pirates pay their players?

They didn’t. The other teams did. The biggest item in the Pirates’ revenue column is the $39,046,312 they received in transfer payments (“revenue sharing”). With that money, the Pirates could meet 77% of payroll. Fortunately for their opponents, the Pirates didn’t get “their” money’s worth.

A similar item, “Major League Central Fund receivable”, dwarfs all the Pirates’ other current assets. With it, the team’s partners’ equity thus totals $83,536,192. As major professional sports teams go, that figure is in National Hockey League/Arena Football territory. The Pirates’ value is to the Dallas Cowboys’ as the Cowboys’ is to Raytheon’s. Which is hardly big business, but it’s very healthy business: the Pirates enjoy a 17.3% profit margin. Then again, it’s easy to turn a profit when your competitors are covering all your losses and then some.

The unorthodox thing about owning a sports team, as opposed to just about any other enterprise, is that with the former you have an additional objective beyond the standard economic one. Every other business wants to maximize its profits. A sports team wants to maximize profits and, presumably, win. By slashing expenses, and thus relying on the largesse of his fellow owners, Nutting can put a consistently atrocious product on the field and not only turn a profit, but watch the value of his team increase.

Combine a perpetually irrational clientele (“This is our year! It’ll be just like 1979!”) with compliant opponents who agree to share revenue, and the Pirates have little incentive to ever improve. Otherwise, they’d end up with a $200 million payroll like the New York Yankees have, and would be net donors to the general fund, not net recipients.

Nutting’s case is hardly unusual. The Los Angeles Clippers are the NBA equivalent of the Pirates, albeit with one winning season in the past 19 rather than zero. Clippers owner Donald Sterling is notorious for his stinginess, one example of thousands being the time he fired the team’s trainer and asked the head coach to tape the players’ ankles. (Mercifully, NBA bylaws now stipulate what should have been unwritten, that each team must hire a trainer. And pay him.)

Yet the market value of the Clippers has increased considerably since Sterling bought the team for $13.5 million in 1982, even though Sterling himself didn’t do a thing to increase said value. We’re pretty sure that this wasn’t what JFK had in mind when he said that a rising tide lifts all boats. Enjoy the games, everyone.

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