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Strong dollar, weak dollar, what does it mean?

I haven't seen this many Indochinese dong since Sunee Plaza. Hi-oh!

It means the price of the dollar, as quoted in foreign currencies. (It doesn’t make a lot of sense to quote the dollar in terms of domestic currency. It’s always going to be worth $1.) There are 182 national currencies in circulation across the planet, but for this post we don’t need to concern ourselves with sparsely traded ones like the Botswanan pula or the Kyrgyz som (no offense to our readers in Gaborone or Bishkek. Control Your Cash is huge in Bishkek.)

Most of the world’s large cross-currency financial transactions are undertaken in just a handful of currencies: among them the euro, the pound sterling, the Japanese yen, the Canadian dollar, the Australian dollar, the New Zealand dollar… and the U.S. dollar. In the world financial markets, the U.S. dollar’s value is expressed relative to the prices of these other currencies. And around the world, that can be vital. One Control Your Cash author had the perspective of growing up in Canada, where the value of the Canadian dollar (quoted in U.S. cents) is at least as prominent a financial indicator as the Dow is in the U.S. Given that the U.S. dollar has historically been the most widely held stable (and most stable widely held) currency in the world, it makes sense that it’d be the one that other countries would choose to quote their currency in terms of. In many parts of the world not referred to above, three particular (foreign) currencies carry equal importance when measuring their relative strengths. In South Africa, for instance, the U.S. dollar, pound, and euro are quoted in terms of each other, making for 3 daily rate quotes (6 if you count each quoted in terms of South Africa’s own rand.)

We do this – quoting euros in dollars, or dollars in pounds, or pounds in euros – because there’s no pure, objective measure of wealth: no commodity whose value always stays the same with respect to everything else. There can’t be, as the economy is dynamic and accelerating. Millennia ago, it might have made sense to count, say, a suckling pig as a unit of currency. My hog is worth 4 of your sucklings. My horse is worth 20. My cow, maybe 8. Oh, wait, it’s a bull? Fine, you can have it for 3. When consumer electronics and decorative tiles and golf clubs don’t yet exist and therefore can’t be quoted in terms of suckling pigs, no problem. But the moment an economy advances even a little, you need something uniform and readily transferable to conduct business in. Even cigarettes work better than piglets, but that implies that your economy has already advanced to the point where cigarettes can be manufactured. Gold works to some extent, as we discussed here, but there are myriad reasons – mostly nationalism and conspicuity – why each nation insists on printing its own money.

If everything has a value – and if anything should, money should – it stands to reason that currencies can be traded for each other. And what makes a currency worth buying? Well, considering money isn’t edible, what makes it valuable is its potential for growth. It’s an investment, like anything else people trade in the financial markets.

If I buy ExxonMobil stock, I’m betting that the stock will increase in value – or in other words, that each dollar I’m buying the stock with will one day be worth less stock.

Yes! Breakthrough.

But currencies are different. If I buy pounds, doesn’t that mean I’m betting that my dollars will one day be worth fewer pounds?

Yes.

Does that make me a traitor to my country?

No, it makes you an investor. Indeed, currency transactions differ from most transactions in that when you deal in currency, you’re exchanging two abstract quantities whose only practical purpose – whose primary purpose – is ultimately to buy other things with. But if the currency you do business in (and if you’re American, that’s largely going to be U.S. dollars) is in danger of losing value relative to other currencies, there’s no point in waiting for it to happen while watching your dollars get weaker.

A “weak” dollar only means weak relative to other currencies. A currency can also lose value relative to itself over time (and almost always will), but that’s a different phenomenon – inflation, which can occur without respect to what’s happening in the rest of the world.

There are plenty of reasons why currencies fluctuate in value, a big one being interest rates. Let’s use the U.S. dollar and the pound as examples. The United Kingdom’s central bank*, the Bank of England, recently set its bank rate (the rate at which commercial and investment banks can borrow money from it) at ½%.  Every few months the Federal Reserve sets the American equivalent, the federal funds rate. Instead of a number, it’s a range, which is currently 0–¼%. (The more a bank borrows, the lower the rate it pays.) The effective federal funds rate, which is a weighted average of the money borrowed by banks, is .11%.

The U.K. rate is unequivocally higher, and not by a little. Which means that ever since those rates were set, the pound has promised higher returns than the dollar. Which makes the pound more desirable than the dollar, which is why the pound is worth more dollars now than it was a few months ago.

(The Bank of Japan’s rate is .1%. The European Central Bank’s is ¼%**, as is the Bank of Canada’s.) We’re not recommending currency investing, nor discouraging it. We’re just trying to explain how it works, which is better than you understanding it retroactively.

In the last 10 months, the pound has gained 20% on the dollar. Does that mean the entire American economy is weak relative to the Brits’? No. If your U.S.-based business buys a lot of British materials (labor, capital, whatever), it’s gotten more expensive to operate, because your business is taking in money in dollars and paying it out in pounds. If your U.S.-based business exports a lot to the U.K., then life is magical. You might not have noticed a thing regarding the price of what your company sells, or what it costs to make it, but from the perspective of a British consumer, your products got cheaper (in pounds.) Which is a big advantage over any British competitors of yours.

There are other criteria that determine currencies’ relative strengths, of course. A country with a lot of debt relative to its size (e.g. Venezuela) might have a crazy person in charge (which it does.) That crazy person (Hugo Chavez) can keep printing currency to settle the country’s debts, making the currency worthless and vaporizing the wealth of all the Venezuelans who earn and save money in that currency. But a country with a vibrant economy, little debt, and lots of imports relative to its size (e.g. Singapore) will usually have a stable currency. Singapore has to buy goods from other countries in order to survive, which means Singapore has a vested interest in keeping its currency worth something. It doesn’t have a lot of financial obligations, so there’s no incentive to weaken its currency by inflation.

Where do we fit on this scale? The United States has a tremendously vibrant economy, at least relative to the rest of the world, regardless of what’s been happening the last 18 months. The U.S. also has a lot of debt. However, we import a lot in absolute terms (although in relative terms, it’s nothing compared to Singapore. Plus we export a lot, too.) And while our chief executive isn’t crazy, it’s not a stretch to call him an opportunist who’d think nothing of ordering the Federal Reserve to help accomplish certain political goals that might not be economically sound.

Where to find currency rates? Yahoo! Finance is our favorite all-purpose financial site: it’s clean, comprehensive and easy to navigate. Scroll down to “Currency Investing” on the left column and have at it.

*You do a blog post, and then you realize halfway through that you might introduce an unfamiliar term. A country’s central bank – most every country of decent size has one – isn’t a bank in the sense that it has branches you walk into and make deposits in. A central bank exists to lend a country’s government its currency. The central bank actually creates the money the government borrows, which is why the dollar bills in your pocket carry the phrase “Federal Reserve Note”.

**You can choose between decimals and vulgar fractions on your own blog. We’re using both.

**This post is featured at Compounding Life**

Reading this post will make you sound 477% more financially literate

 

The Oklahoma/Texas border, as drawn by Muhammad Ali

“The Dow gained 50 points today.”

“The market broke 10,000.”

Do you know what either of those statements mean? To most people “The Dow” and “the market” are somewhat synonymous, but those above numbers remain abstract. Control Your Cash surveyed some of its smartest friends to see who could define the Dow. Here are a few of the answers:

“The volume of industrial stocks traded.”
No.

“An average rating (or price level) of a bunch of important stocks. I think of ‘Fortune 500’ the same way, but I figure ‘the Dow’ includes more stocks, or just stocks that are somehow related to ‘industry’.”
Yes and no.

 

“The big number that is quoted after the bell every day is an aggregate/average of all the stocks available for public purchase.”
No.

 

“Isn’t that number somehow based upon the average share price the Dow stocks traded at?”
We’re getting closer.

Things the Dow has nothing to do with:

-strength of the U.S. dollar
-price of gold
-unemployment rate
-bonds
-prime rate
-taxes
-interest rates
-how many stocks were traded yesterday, or how many shares of them were traded.

The Dow’s proper name is the Dow Jones Industrial Average. It’s a number that fluctuates throughout the trading day as particular stocks trade on the New York Stock Exchange. The number is the product of a simple calculation involving the prices of the stocks of a certain 30 companies. Though the companies, and the index, are called “industrials,” that doesn’t necessarily mean that they operate big brick factories with smokestacks. The companies are called industrials to distinguish them from transportation companies, which used to be an important distinction. In 1884 when the Dow was first calculated, railroads and steamships comprised a huge chunk of the economy. (The Dow Jones Transportation Average still exists, though few people outside the airline and trucking businesses pay attention to it.)

The Dow is simply the share prices of those 30 big stocks, added together and multiplied by 7.557486. (We’ll explain the multiplication later.) The companies aren’t the 30 biggest revenue generators in America, or even the 30 most profitable, although there’s lots of overlap. The stocks, with their prices at the close of trading on Friday, October 30 are:

3M 73.57
Alcoa 12.42
American Express 34.84
AT&T 25.97
Bank of America 14.58
Boeing 47.80
Caterpillar 55.06
Chevron 76.54
Cisco 22.81
Coca-Cola 53.31
Dupont 31.82
Exxon Mobil 71.67
General Electric 14.26
Hewlett-Packard 47.46
Home Depot 25.09
Intel 19.11
IBM 120.61
Johnson & Johnson 59.05
JPMorgan Chase 41.77
Kraft Foods 27.52
McDonald’s 58.61
Merck 30.93
Microsoft 27.73
Pfizer 17.03
Procter & Gamble 58
Travelers Insurance 49.79
United Technologies 61.45
Verizon 29.59
Wal-Mart 49.68
Walt Disney 27.37

Those sum to 1285.44. Multiply by 7.557486 to get 9714.69, and you’re done.

Most people are surprised to find out how few stocks comprise the Dow. After all, 1400 other companies trade on the NYSE, to say nothing of the additional thousands that trade on NASDAQ and other exchanges. You won’t find America’s 14th, 15th, 19th and 20th most profitable companies (Philip Morris, Occidental Petroleum, Oracle and News Corporation) on the Dow. Corning, Bristol-Myers Squibb and PepsiCo aren’t far behind, either. Still, the companies on the list represent about ¼ of all the publicly traded market value in the country. The Dow consists of the stock prices of only 30 big corporations because a) there weren’t many more than that back in 1884, and b) if it’s the 19th century and you’re using a pencil, the more companies you add, the longer the average takes to compute. Even with the advent of calculators, for some reason the unrepresentative Dow has remained the benchmark for the market.

Nothing’s permanent, mind you. General Electric is to the Dow as Chester Pitts is to the Houston Texans or Dave Mustaine is to Megadeth: the only remaining original member. On average, a company gets replaced about once a year. Two gigantic and gigantically mismanaged corporations, General Motors and Citi, were politely asked to leave the premises this past year. That’ll happen when your stock falls 99%. They were replaced by Travelers and Cisco.

There are far more comprehensive indices out there. The S&P 500 tracks…well, you can probably figure out how many companies. There’s also a Russell 3000 and a Wilshire 5000. That last one measures the worth of almost the entire market for publicly traded stocks.

Besides exclusivity, the Dow has other limitations. Look at the prices above. Some companies’ stocks trade at 9 times the price of other companies’, yet they’re all weighed equally. The chance of Pfizer stock rising $1 tomorrow is greater than that of IBM stock, simply because Pfizer is so much cheaper and its price thus more volatile. But whether IBM goes up $1 (or .8%) or Pfizer does (5.9%), the Dow rises 7.55749 points either way.

Why the 7.55749? Because of stock splits. Throughout history, some companies – Dow components or otherwise – have tried to attract more investors by doubling (or tripling, decapling, whatever) the number of outstanding shares. This is just an accounting construct that doesn’t change anybody’s actual holdings. If you own 500 shares worth $2 each before a 2-for-1 split, you’ll own 1000 shares worth $1 each after the split. Stocks normally trade in units of 100 shares, so if you wanted to invest in the company for as little money as possible, you’d only have to pay half as much as you would have had to before the split.

Another thing to keep in mind regarding the Dow: the price of a stock doesn’t tell you anything about the health of a company. That’s what financial statements are for. Non-Dow member Google closed at $536.12 Friday. That doesn’t mean Google is 31 times stronger than Pfizer is. For one thing, Google might just happen to be divided into fewer shares than Pfizer. Remember that the Dow, in its simplest terms, reflects nothing more than what people are willing to pay for the stocks of 30 large but disparate companies.

The Dow tells you only a sliver of what’s happening with the economy. Unemployment could reach 25%, an ounce of gold could cost $10,000*, the Chinese could finally cash in that gargantuan IOU and put us all to work tilling yams for Jiang Zemin’s dinner table, but the Dow could still conceivably rise if enough people want to buy enough of the underlying stocks.

There. Now you’re educated.

*Or a dollar could be worth 3.11 Aumg. See this post.

#79 in the periodic table, #1 in our hearts

Makes it harder for people to bum change off you, too.

Every news story that contains a dollar figure is a product of its time, because inflation taints everything. That’s a recurring theme in the book version of Control Your Cash, soon to be released by a major publisher if certain contingencies break the right way.

Inflation, in one paragraph: with rare exceptions, the value of money always decreases. Slowly, but consistently. Right now a dollar is worth about 2% less than it was a year ago. That 2% is fairly consistent throughout the last century. It’d take a few more paragraphs to explain why. Better yet, a future post.

When the dollar amounts get big enough, and a federal government that lost its financial moorings a long time ago starts throwing out 12- and 13- and even 14-digit numbers, you can lose perspective. It’s hard to conceive of a million of anything, let alone a billion or a trillion. Especially when those numbers get bigger every year, thanks in part to inflation.

In the late 1940s, the U.S. dollar replaced the pound sterling as the world’s reserve currency – the default that international transactions are measured in when using another currency would be impractical or confusing. Americans today still benefit from that. Just by virtue of living here, we don’t have to worry about our currency becoming gradually worthless – and our life savings evaporating.

The dollar became the reserve currency largely due to the size of the American economy and the dollar’s relative stability. (It then self-perpetuated: the more stable the dollar, the more firmly entrenched it became as the reserve currency.) But that doesn’t mean it’ll be this way forever. Just this past week, China and several Middle Eastern countries proposed inventing a new currency to supplant the weakening dollar as the denomination in which oil and other commodities should be traded. This new currency would be nothing formal and tradable, just an amalgamation of existing world currencies that aren’t the dollar. That people are taking this seriously shows the dollar is assailable.

The U.S. dollar has enjoyed a 60-year-and-counting (however tenuously) reign as a powerful medium of exchange. As impressive as that is, gold has served as a store of value for about 100 times longer.

When the government creates too much currency, that currency weakens. Inflates. Becomes less valuable. It’s not hard for this to happen: the government just needs to fire up the presses. When a government owes a lot of money, like the United States’ does, this is an easy way of giving its creditors less than what they really deserve. But, by punishing its creditors, the government also punishes anyone else who does business in dollars. Which would be all Americans.

Gold can’t be injected into the economy as quickly as dollars can. To increase the gold output, you need to find a particularly rich vein, start extracting, put thousands of hours of manpower on the task, refine, purify, separate the dross, and bring it to market. Which is exactly what the world’s gold manufacturers try to do anyway, every day they operate. It’s not easy. That’s why gold, and not cobalt nor nickel, is the historical commodity people have used for money.

Gold isn’t an objective measure of wealth, but it’s as close as we can get in the practical world. Because extra gold is so hard to introduce to the market, gold’s value won’t fluctuate as much as something issued by the Federal Reserve, the Bank of England, or the EU. That’s why financial newscasts, publications and websites prominently display the price of gold. When the price of gold goes “up” (you’ll understand the quotation marks in a minute), that’s supposed to represent something noteworthy about both gold’s scarcity and the general state of the economy.

But gold is pretty scarce no matter what. Here’s a semi-rhetorical question: why do we quote gold prices in terms of dollars, a currency continuously weakened by inflation?

Right now, gold is trading at $1049/ounce, “down” $14.90 from yesterday. The Control Your Cash book recommends again and again that in order to greater appreciate how money works, you should examine every financial transaction you engage in from the other party’s perspective. Commodity prices are no exception. Instead of quoting the price of an ounce of gold in dollars, why not say that a dollar is currently trading at 29.65 milligrams of gold (up .41 milligrams from yesterday)?

We propose our own new unit of currency: the gold milligram, symbol Aumg (prounounced “OMG”).

Here are some current exchange rates:

euro 44.18 Aumg
pound sterling 48.15
yen .33
Swiss franc 29.14
Mexican peso 2.26
renminbi 4.34

With no more than two digits before the decimal point, these numbers are easy to visualize. And because of inflation, the numbers will almost all decrease as time passes, reminding the people who use these currencies of their ever-weakening power.

Here are some more for you:

2005 U.S. dollar 73.32
1998 U.S. dollar 109.46
1968 U.S. dollar 883.49

Puts a modest 2% inflation rate into perspective, doesn’t it?

Why should we assume the dollar (or any other state-issued currency) is the objective and constant measure, and gold is the commodity with the wildly variable price? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

The short answer to the first question is conditioning. Decades ago the United States switched its currency from one defined in terms of gold to one “backed by the full faith and credit of the United States government”, a remnant from the reliquary of charmingly naïve and obsolete buzzphrases.

It’s natural for Americans to phrase their economic thinking in terms of “dollars”. Natural, and convenient, but damaging and incomplete. When a dollar is only as weak or as strong as the Federal Reserve arbitrarily chooses to make it, then the Federal Reserve has the ability to dictate the terms of (and to a large extent, even the size of) the nation’s economy. It’s hard to find a better example of too much power concentrated in the hands of too few. You know, the issue we fought the Brits over.

By one method, the United States money supply increased 6% from 2006 to 2007. That includes not only all the currency in circulation, but all the money held in checking accounts. If a 6% increase sounds modest, consider that the world gold output increased by 1.5% last year. Which triply overstates things, because 2/3 of the gold mined last year was used for industry, jewelry, etc. The 6% figure for the increase in greenbacks is conservative, too. It doesn’t include money in savings accounts, money market accounts, nor certificates of deposit.

In 2006 the Federal Reserve stopped calculating the increase in the broadest possible definition of money; the definition that includes huge institutional certificates of deposit held by banks. (These are CDs worth several hundred times more than the thousand-dollar ones you might be holding. But because they don’t trade among individuals, the government has an excuse for removing them from the equation.) The Fed argued that the costs to collect the data outweighed any benefits, which is why it would no longer estimate how much money is really circulating through the economy.

Yes, a branch of the 21st century American government willfully stopped crunching numbers. Can you think of any scenario in which a branch of the government would do that, if it had nothing to hide? The ironic thing is that the Fed isn’t even hiding what it’s hiding: paraphrasing, they said “Citizen, this information doesn’t concern you, and you wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. Nothing to see here.”

If the Fed released those numbers, we’d know how many trillions of dollars they’re diluting the economy with. We’d know how few Aumg it’ll take to buy a dollar next year. We’d know how badly inflation is eroding the nest eggs we’ve each spent a lifetime building.

Some estimate that the money supply is really increasing by around 16% annually. Which is more than 30 times faster than the supply of commodity gold is increasing. So which is more stable – the dollar or the Aumg?

The point of this exercise is not to argue that the next time you buy a coffee, you should offer to pay with 40 milligrams of gold. Rather, the point is to put things in perspective when, for instance, Sen. Harry Reid says health care reform will cost 59,301,000,000,000 Aumg. Or 59,301 metric tons of gold. Or 38% of all the gold ever mined.