“The prices of all industrial securities have fallen,” said the Deutsche Bank in 1900, “and this decline has been felt all the more because by reason of the ill-conceived Bourse Law, it struck the public with full force without being softened through covering purchases”--i. e., by the bears. Again, four years later, when the law was still in force, the same authority states “a serious political surprise would cause the worst panic, because there are no longer any dealers (shorts) to take up the securities which at such times are thrown on the market.” The Dresdner Bank in 1899 reported that the dangers arising from this prohibition cannot be overestimated “if with a change of economic conditions the unavoidable selling force cannot be met by dealers willing and able to buy.”
“Short sellers do not determine prices,” says Professor Huebner. “By selling they simply express judgment as to what prices will be in the future. If their judgment is wrong they will suffer the penalty of being obliged to go into the market and buy the securities at higher prices. Nine tenths of the people are by nature ‘bulls,’ and the higher prices go, the more optimistic and elated they become. If it were not for a group of ‘short sellers,’ who resist an excessive inflation, it would be much easier than now to raise prices through the roof; and then, when the inflation became apparent to all, the descent would be abrupt and likely unchecked until the basement was reached. The operations of the ‘bear,’ however, make excessive inflation extremely expensive, and similarly tend to prevent a violent smash because the ‘bear,’ to realize his profits, must become a buyer. The writer has been told by several members of the New York Stock Exchange that they have seen days of panic when practically the only buyers, who were taking the vast volume of securities dumped on the exchange, were those who had sold ‘short,’ and who now turned buyers as the only way of closing their transactions. They were curious to know what would have happened in those panic days, when everybody wished to sell and few cared to invest, if the buying power had depended solely upon the real investment demand of the outside public.
“In reply also to the prevalent opinion that ‘short selling’ unduly depresses security values, it should be stated that ‘short sellers’ are frequently the most powerful support which the market possesses. It is an ordinary affair to read in the press that the market is sustained or ‘put up’ at the expense of the ‘shorts’ who, having contracted to deliver at a certain price can frequently easily be driven to ‘cover.’ Short selling is thus a beneficial factor in steadying prices and obviating extreme fluctuations. Largely through its action, the discounting of serious depressions does not take the form of a sudden shock or convulsion, but instead is spread out over a period of time, giving the actual holder of securities ample time to observe the situation and limit his loss before ruin results. In fact, there could be no organized market for securities worthy of the name, if there did not exist two sides, the ‘bull’ and the ‘bear.’ The constant contest between their judgments is sure to give a much saner and truer level of prices than could otherwise exist. ‘No other means,’ reports the Hughes Committee, ‘of restraining unwarranted marking up and down of prices has been suggested to us.’”[31]
So much for the functions of the bear in markets that deal in invested capital. In the commodity markets he becomes of even greater value, indeed, he is well-nigh indispensable. Mr. Horace White, who was the Chairman of the Hughes Investigating Committee, cites this instance: “A manufacturer of cotton goods, in order to keep his mill running all the year round, must make contracts ahead for his material, before the crop of any particular year is picked. The cotton must be of a particular grade. He wishes to be insured against fluctuations in both price and quality; for such insurance he can afford to pay. In fact he cannot afford to be without it. There are also men in the cotton trade, of large capital and experience, who keep themselves informed of all the facts touching the crops and the demand and supply of cotton in the world, and who find their profit in making contracts for its future delivery. They do not possess the article when they sell it. To them the contract is a matter of speculation and short selling, but it is a perfectly legitimate transaction.
“To the manufacturer it is virtually a policy of insurance. It enables him to keep his mills running and his hands employed, regardless of bad weather or insect pests or other uncertainties. The same principles apply to the miller who wants wheat, to the distiller, the cattle-feeder, and the starch-maker who wants corn, to the brewer who wants hops and barley, to the brass founder who wants copper, and so on indefinitely. Insurance is one of two redeeming features of such speculation; and the other, which is even more important, is the steadying effect which it has on market prices. If no speculative buying of produce ever took place, it would be impossible for a grower of wheat or cotton to realize a fair price at once on his crop. He would have to deal it out little by little to merchants who, in turn, would pass it on, in the same piecemeal way, to consumers. It is speculative buying which not only enables farmers to realize on their entire crops as soon as they are harvested, but enables them to do so with no disastrous sacrifice of price. When buyers who have future sales in view compete actively with each other, farmers get fair prices for their produce.”[32]
And, it may be added, the same satisfactory result is attained when bears who have sold the farmer’s crop short come to cover their short sales by buying in the open market; their buying steadies the market if there is a tendency to decline; if the market is strong, their buying helps make it stronger. In either case they are the farmer’s best friends, because the farmer profits as prices advance.
Speaking of farmers, it is well known that much of the opposition to short selling and dealing in futures in the large markets finds its chief advocates among the Western and Southern politicians whose constituents are the agricultural classes. These gentlemen fulminate strongly against the New York Stock Exchange and the grain and cotton exchanges, and in currying favor with their bucolic supporters they do not hesitate to condemn margin trading, short selling and every other phase of speculative markets. Yet it does not occur to them, or, if it does, they dare not refer to it, that in forming pools and combinations to hold back their wheat and cotton their constituents are doing the very thing which they so strongly condemn in speculative centres. The farmer is, of course, richer than he ever was before, but nevertheless he grows his wheat to sell, and only a few can carry it for any length of time without borrowing from the banks. The farmer who goes into one of these pools with wheat valued at $10,000 and who borrows $8000 on it from his local bank, is nothing more nor less than a speculator in wheat on a 20 per cent. margin, and the same horrid appellation describes the cotton-planter who resorts to similar practices.[33]
Now, of course, there is no moral reason why a farmer should not speculate if he chooses, but what touches us on the raw is his Phariseeism in doing for himself what he professes to abhor and condemn in others. One is tempted to say unkind things to the farmer at such times, to remind him, for example, that he is to-day the most backward and unprogressive factor in American business life. Despite the fact that the Department of Agriculture has spent $100,000,000 on his education in the last twenty years, he has not yet begun to learn what the German, Dutch, and French farmers learned years ago in intensive farming, nor has he mastered the art of cattle-raising in anything like the degree it is understood in the Argentine. Nature has smiled on him; he waxes fat with her bounty, but he does not keep pace with the growth of the country. Although enhancing prices are paid him for his product, he is unable to raise a crop proportionate in any degree to the facilities put at his disposal in the way of fertilizers and machinery. One would like to “rub it in” on the farmer, but one doesn’t, “because” as a recent writer puts it, “the farmer is a farmer, and therefore not a person to be lectured like a mere banker or broker in Wall Street.”
To the farmer, the politician, and the layman generally, short sales of cotton or grain are understood, approved, in fact, if the grower happens to be the one who profits by them. But substitute stocks and shares for wheat and cotton, and talk of “operations for a fall,” and the layman thinks he smells a rat. He sees the bale of cotton or the carload of wheat actually moving; it is a concrete thing; it appeals to his senses, it is comprehensible. But talk to him of bits of paper called stock certificates, and by a curious process he concludes that a short sale has no basis of reality and is therefore menacing and improper. He persuades himself that short selling ought to be prohibited by law, and, since Wall Street harbors the chief offenders, he finds in the nearest politician a handy ally to assist him. These gentlemen, who obstinately refuse every other medicament, could be cured of their ailment by a strong diet of economics. They become subjects of medical, rather than financial, interest. They should dip themselves into Conant and Leroy-Beaulieu; they should cool off in the pages of Bagehot and Emery; and, by the time they have got into the soothing columns of the Hughes Commission’s report, they will be ready for new points of view.
As a preparatory lesson: suppose a speculator buys from a commission merchant a carload of coal of a specified grade. The coal is not in the possession of the commission merchant, but he knows where he can get it, and he knows that he can deliver it on the date agreed upon. Accordingly he sells it short, and enters into a binding contract which, happily, the courts construe to be perfectly legal. Now suppose the same purchaser wishes to buy 100 shares of Pennsylvania Railroad stock. All Pennsylvania stock is the same, that is to say any 100 shares of it is just as good as any other 100 shares of the same property--the number on the certificate is of no importance whatever.
The dealer to whom he applies does not happen to have 100 Pennsylvania on hand, but he knows where he can get it, and he knows that he can deliver it to the purchaser on the following day. So he sells it short, and all that remains to complete his part of the contract is the actual delivery. He is then a bear on Pennsylvania stock. He may, if he chooses, go into the open market and buy the stock at once, so that he will be able to deliver it in the easiest and most direct way. Or he may feel that by waiting he may be able to buy at a lower price than that at which he has sold it, hence, in order to make the delivery promptly, he borrows the hundred shares from one of his colleagues, to whom he pays the market price as security for the temporary loan of the certificate.[34] In a day or two the price of the stock may have declined, whereupon the bear goes into the market and buys the 100 shares of Pennsylvania at a price, say, 1 per cent. lower than that at which he sold it.
When this certificate is delivered to him next day, he delivers it in turn to the man from whom he borrowed the original 100 shares; his security money is then returned to him, and the transaction is closed. It is just as real a transaction as any other, and just as legal. Moreover, since it is always possible to buy, but not always possible to sell, the active presence in the market of large numbers of bears who _must_ buy, whether they want to or not, is the very best policy of insurance that a holder of securities could have.
Many years ago there was a law on the French Statute books, subsequently repealed, prohibiting short sales. M. Boscary de Villeplaine, a deputy chairman of the association of stockbrokers, was conversing with Napoleon regarding a pending discussion in the Council of State looking to the repeal of the law. “Your Majesty,” said de Villeplaine, “when my water carrier is at the door, would he be guilty of selling property he did not own if he sold me two casks of water instead of only one, which he has?” “Certainly not,” replied Napoleon, “because he is always sure of finding in the river what he lacks.” “Well, your Majesty, there is on the Bourse a river of Rentes.”[35]
Napoleon felt, no doubt, that there was something inherently wrong in selling short; even as these lines are written, counsel for a Congressional committee is attempting to make witnesses admit that the practice is “immoral.” But why, where, how is it immoral? It pervades all business; no question of morals or ethics enters into it at all. The man who sells you a motor-car has not got it; he accepts your money and enters into an agreement to deliver the car next spring because he knows or believes that he can make it and have it ready for delivery at that time. Meanwhile he has sold short. A gentleman of my acquaintance has sold thousands of storage-batteries on the same basis, although plans for them have not yet been designed to meet the specifications. At Cape Cod the cranberry-growers sell their crop before it has begun to mature; all over the land contractors and builders are “going short” of the labor and materials which, at some time in the future, they hope to obtain to fulfil the terms of their agreements. Are all these worthy people “immoral”?
If it is immoral to _sell_ for a purpose, it is equally immoral to _buy_ for a purpose; in each case the purpose is the hope of a profit. Buying for a profit is approved by every one; why not selling? In both instances you have bought or sold for a difference in price; the _sequence_ of the events in no way involves a question of morals, since there is no ethical difference and no economic difference between buying first and selling last, and selling first and buying last. Moreover, in selling short you do no injury, since you sell to a buyer, at his price, only what he wants and is willing to pay for.[36]
All suggestions of impropriety in short selling are grotesque in their absurdity. But suppose, for purposes of argument, that economic errors of some sort were actually involved in this practice. How could it be regulated or controlled? As the governors of the Stock Exchange stated to the Hughes Commission in 1909, short selling is of different descriptions. There is the short sale where the security is held in another country and sold to arrive pending transportation. There is the short sale where an individual sells against securities which he expects to have later, but which are not in deliverable form; and in this connection I call your attention to the recent sale of $50,000,000 of Corporate Stock of the City of New York where deliveries were not made for a period of about three months, and which stock was dealt in enormously, long before it was issued.
“If a market had not been provided for it under those conditions,” said the governors, “the loan could not have been placed. Then, again, there is the short selling of stock against which different and new securities are to be issued; the vendor knowing that he is to receive certain securities at a distant date, but desiring to realize upon them _at this time_. Beyond this, there is the regular selling of short stock, either by parties who do so to hedge a dangerous position upon the long side of the market, or the sale purely and simply with the intention of rebuying at a profit, should circumstances favor it.”
Finally, there is the investor with stock in his strong-box actually paid for and owned outright. He may wish to sell in a strong market with the hope of repurchasing at lower prices, but for reasons of his own he may borrow the stock for delivery rather than deliver the securities bearing his own name. Technically he is short; he is a bear. But in his case, as in that of the others here cited, how can this perfectly proper method of doing business be “regulated” or interfered with in any way? I do not think it necessary to pursue so palpable an absurdity.
It has been said that the bears often resort to unfair methods to bring about declines in prices, circulating rumors designed to alarm timid owners of securities and thus frighten them into selling. That this is done every now and then is undeniable, but the opportunity of the bear in these matters is very limited, and may be easily and speedily investigated, whereas similar practices, by the bulls in inflating values by all sorts of grotesque assertions and promises are by no means so easily run to earth, and do incalculably more harm.
The bear who drags a red-herring across the trail now and then interrupts the chase, but he cannot stop it; the genial optimist who has a doubtful concern on his hands, with a pack of enthusiastic buyers in full cry at his heels, is a much more serious matter. Good times and bull markets engender many questionable practices of this sort. “All people are most credulous when they are most happy,” says Walter Bagehot; “and when much money has just been made, when some people are really making it, when most people think they are making it, there is a happy opportunity for ingenious mendacity. Almost everything will be believed for a little while, and long before discovery the worst and most adroit deceivers are geographically or legally beyond the reach of punishment. But the harm they have done diffuses harm, for it weakens credit still further.”[37]
If this book were written for people instructed in economic matters there would be no occasion to dilate upon the usefulness of bears and the value of short selling, but since we are addressing laymen who do not understand how the bear can be a useful factor, we may venture to say once more that insurance is the chief advantage in his operations. Ex-Governor White’s contribution to the subject, which I have quoted in this chapter, is strongly supported by Mr. Conant, who shows that valuable progress in opening new countries and developing new industries is often made possible by “bearish” operations designed to “hedge” or insure the new undertaking against loss.
“The broker who has a new security which he desires to place from time to time in the future, making possible, for instance, the opening of a new country to railway traffic, protects himself against loss resulting from future changes in market conditions by selling other securities for future delivery at current prices. These securities will realize a profit when the date arrives for delivery if the market has in the meantime become unfavorable, and will offset the loss upon his new securities. They will have to be bought at a loss if the movement of prices has been upward, but the upward movement will afford a profit upon the new securities which he is seeking to place upon the market. Thus, to quote Georges-Levy, ‘there is a genuine insurance, which the broker will have himself organized and on which he will willingly pay the premium for protection against any accident.’”[38]
An instance such as this serves to show the difference between gambling and speculating, terms that are often misapplied by critics of stock markets. A gambler seeks and makes risks which it is not necessary to assume, and which, in their assumption, contribute nothing to the general uplift. But the speculator--in the instance just cited, a bear who sells short--volunteers to assume those risks of business which must inevitably fall somewhere, and without which the mine, or the factory, or the railroad could not be undertaken. His profession, and the daily risks he assumes, call for special knowledge and superior foresight, so that the probability of loss is less than it would be to others. If he did not do it--if there were no bear speculators--the same risks would have to be borne by others less fitted to assume them or the useful projects in question would not be undertaken at all.
So general is the employment of these hedging or insurance operations that in the case of cotton--to cite but one instance--the business is regarded by practically all cotton merchants as an absolute necessity under modern methods of conducting business. “An idea of the value of the hedging function may be obtained,” says Herbert Knox Smith, Commissioner of Corporations, “when it is stated that in Great Britain banks very generally refuse to loan money on cotton that is not hedged. Moreover, it is almost universally conceded that, since the introduction of hedging, failures in the cotton trade, which had previously been frequent, have been materially reduced as a direct result of the greater stability with which transactions in spot cotton can be conducted.”[39]
In conclusion it may be noted that as early as 1732 an attempt was made in England to prevent short sales by law, that the law was recognized a mistake and subsequently repealed. To-day there is no law on the English Statute books restricting speculation in any form. In America the New York State Legislature enacted a law in 1812 and the Federal Government in 1864, both designed to prevent short selling. These laws have also been repealed and they will not be revived. The bear has come to stay. As a spectre to frighten amateurs, he may continue for a time to stalk abroad o’ nights; as a necessary and useful part of all business he is a substantial reality. And he is not “immoral.”[40]
CHAPTER IV
THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE BANKS AND THE STOCK EXCHANGE
“A million in the hands of a single banker is a great power,” said Walter Bagehot; “he can at once lend it where he will, and borrowers can come to him because they know or believe that he has it. But the same sum scattered in tens and fifties through a whole nation is no power at all; no one knows where to find it or whom to ask for it.” This explains the power of Wall Street. Money flows there for the same reason that water flows downhill. The great agricultural districts of the West, for example, will gather from their crops this year several hundred millions of dollars. They have no real economic use for all this money in the farming districts; the large commercial and industrial undertakings that help to make America rich and powerful are not in that neighborhood.
Particular trades settle in particular districts, and the money they require must be sent to them from other districts. “Commerce is curiously conservative in its homes;” the steel trade concentrates in and around Pittsburg, the grain trade at Chicago, wholesale merchants in special lines are always to be found huddled together in our big cities in neighborly intimacy; and once a trade has settled in one spot it remains there. The millions that go West to pay the farmer must therefore go elsewhere to pay others as fast as a demand for money arises, because the price that will be paid for it elsewhere is greater than the price it will bring in the farmer’s pockets. This is doubly true because, as we have said, there are no imperious demands for money for commercial undertakings in the farmer’s neighborhood, and, even if there were, home enterprises are seldom attractive; curiously enough there is a familiarity about them and their local promoters that breeds contempt. Besides, these millions are scattered in small sums all over the agricultural States; there is no cohesion, no concentration.
What then becomes of these vast sums? They are deposited in the local banks, and the local bankers, who are wisely permitted by law to deposit three fifths of their legal reserves in a city bank, promptly transfer the funds that are not required at home to the bank that will pay interest on them. In this way large capital accumulates, and when we say this is a wise provision of the law we mean that scattered reserves in local country banks are of no more avail in emergencies than the five-dollar bills in the people’s pockets; but, gathered into one great central fund that will aggregate a sum large enough to provide every solvent bank and business house with ample support in times of distress, they accomplish a purpose worth talking about.
This is the way they do in Europe, but say “Central Bank” in America, and people are frightened out of their wits. They say politics would dominate it; “the interests” would control it. The bigness of things seems to paralyze them. But to attack a thing merely because it is big and powerful is no argument. In a country full of big things it does not ring true; it is un-American, and, as for the bogy of a centralized banking control, there is infinitely more of it in New York to-day, under the existing system, than there could possibly be under the plan proposed by the original Aldrich measure. However, the idea of a great Central Bank is not the subject under discussion.
When money flows into the New York banks the popular notion seems to be that it is used to facilitate speculation on the Stock Exchange. But this is only one of its many sources of employment. It will supply the payroll at Pittsburg, it will ship grain to Europe, it will discount the bills of merchants, it will return to the West and South when they call for it to move the next crop. If Canada or Europe wants it, and bids high enough for it, they will get a share of it. Wherever capital is most profitable, there it will turn; it will rapidly leave any country that cannot pay for it. It is the old simile of water finding its own level. The first step consists in gathering the idle hoards of individuals into banks; the next consists in centralizing these deposits where they will be available for other sections of the country that have use for them.
In order to attract these funds and so facilitate the business of the country smoothly and economically, the New York banks are accustomed to paying 2 per cent. interest on such deposits. Critics who seem to feel that there is something objectionable in the laws of gravitation, would prevent country banks from depositing in the cities by forbidding the payment of interest on deposits by national banks. But the laws that govern national banks, as Mr. Horace White suggests, are not the laws that govern State banks and trust companies, and, as these would gladly pay the 2 per cent. interest on deposits, they would be given an unfair advantage.[41] Critics also say that country banks should not be allowed to keep three fifths of their reserves in city banks, but then they would be at a disadvantage with the State banks in their neighborhood, since the prohibition would not apply to them. Moreover, if country banks were not thus permitted to deposit three fifths of their reserves, what would they do with their funds? For long periods the money would remain idle, and idle funds are as unhealthy for the community as they are for the banks.
There is no other way but for the country banker to take care of his customers first, and then send as much of his surplus as the law permits to the centre that will pay him the best return and the safest return. This is good business; it makes money; it is sound economics. And before the critic goes into a paroxysm over the fear that speculation in stocks will absorb all this wealth once it finds its way to New York, let me remind him, to cite but one instance, that short-time commercial paper, representing actual commodities moving to market, has the first call. The Minneapolis miller’s ninety-day bill, accepted by a reliable merchant and based on an actual carload of flour, has in all normal times a preferred claim on the banker’s funds.
This discounting of commercial paper is the ideal function of banking, to quote Mr. White, and if there were always a sufficient supply of good bills to absorb all the bank’s loanable credit, with an inflow of cash from maturing bills equal to the outgo of new ones, there would be no occasion for bankers to look elsewhere to keep their funds mobile--and the critic would be out of work.[42] But this does not often happen, because the bank’s loanable funds normally exceed the amount of acceptable paper, and at such times the banker makes advances on goods or securities, and, if goods and securities are not pressing for loans, he will place his funds elsewhere, where a demand exists. But securities for which there is always a ready market are such thoroughly good collateral for loans that bankers are glad to get them.