Joseph Cassano: the man with the trillion-dollar price on his headBy Paul Vicente
The Sunday Times May 17, 2009
This is Joseph Cassano. He is the multimillionaire trader accused of bringing down the insurance giant AIG — and with it the world’s economy. So is he a criminal, an incompetent or a scapegoat?EXCERPT...
There is, however, an alternative reading. This says that the furore over bonuses is a convenient distraction from the real causes of the crisis, which go to the heart of how the world is run. There is dishonesty in this collapse, on a scale that is almost too vast to comprehend. There are conflicts of interest in American finance and politics that make our own, dear House of Lords look like beginners. There are frauds so large, and so long-standing, that it can be hard to see them for what they are. And all these things were allowed to thrive in an intellectual atmosphere that tolerated no dissent. This reading is optimistic for those who believe in free markets, even if it is pessimistic for the US. “Capitalism has not failed,” says Bernard-Henri Lévy, the French philo-sopher. “We have failed capitalism.” The thesis can be tested through Patient Zero.
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But Greenberg faced a problem. Insurance is not like iPods, where if you invent the market, growth comes fast. Over time, it performs in line with the economy. In 1987 he found an answer: AIG would enter a joint venture with Howard Sosin, a pioneer in the new “Frankenfinance” of derivatives trading. You can thank Sir Isaac Newton for Frankenfinance. By showing in the 17th century that the universe conforms to natural laws, he encouraged our age to see money as a branch of physics. Starting in 1952, two generations of economists worked to show that people are like molecules, whose behaviour can be predicted in ways that are stable over time. Science then infected everything, from how much capital banks need to protect themselves against insolvency, to the risk in credit-default swaps. But there was a flaw: the City’s faux physicists never go back far enough in their analysis, because the data on the Bloomberg terminal cover a tiny period of history. “Real scientists tend to be much more sceptical about their data and their models,” says William Janeway, an MD of the private-equity firm Warburg Pincus and a Cambridge University lecturer. “They had all of the maths, but none of the instincts of good scientists.” There is also the 4x4 effect: if you give people a safer car (read, a safer world through financial innovation), they tend to drive faster. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.
To start with, AIG trod carefully in the new, scientific universe. Sosin’s idea was to buy financial risk from people who did not want it, then sell the risk to others in a series of “hedges” so that AIG kept the fees but not the risk. If a big organisation wanted to lock in an interest rate, for example, AIG would promise to pay the difference in costs if rates rose, then pass the risk to other parties in separate contracts. Sosin supplied the nerds and the models, AIG supplied the reassurance of its AAA rating, and for a long time the alchemy worked. AIG Financial Products (AIGFP), a unit with 0.3% of AIG’s 116,000 employees, made over $1 billion in profits between 1987 and 1992, a vast sum at the time. But Sosin left. And so did his successor, a mathematician named Tom Savage. When Savage departed in 2001, Greenberg put in charge a man he saw as “smart, tough and aggressive”: the unit’s chief operating officer, Joseph Cassano. The new leader had no background in Frankenfinance; his degree, from Brooklyn College, was in political science. The cop’s kid had ascended through what is called the “back office”: his expertise was in supervising the contracts and running the lawyers and accountants. This did not matter, Greenberg thought. Underlings had the right maths, and besides, Greenberg’s AIG held everyone, Cassano included, to account. The London team would be scrutinised. Which was just as well, as the huge intellectual error meant nobody else was in charge. “Why did no-one see it coming?” asked the Queen last November, on a visit to the London School of Economics. Well, they did, ma’am. Charles Bowsher, head of the US government’s General Accounting Office, testified as long ago as 1994 that “the sudden failure or abrupt withdrawal from trading” of large dealers in derivatives “could cause liquidity problems in the markets and could also pose risks to others, including… the financial system as a whole”. It took another 13 years, but that is exactly what happened.
One regulator tried to act on Bowsher’s warning, but she was silenced. Brooksley Born, who monitored the futures markets, tried to extend her remit to unregulated derivatives. Alan Greenspan and Robert Rubin, the then Treasury secretary, persuaded Congress to freeze her already limited power, forcing her departure. Rubin had come into government from Goldman Sachs; when he left he went back to banking, and pushed for Citigroup to step up its trading of risky, mortgage-related investments. For his advice, he earned over $126m (£84m) and then, as Citigroup collapsed, became an adviser to Barack Obama. After Greenspan stepped down from the US central bank in 2006, he became a consultant to Pimco, the world’s biggest bond fund, where his insights have been praised by his boss. “He’s made and saved billions of dollars for Pimco already,” said Bill Gross last year. Greenspan is also an adviser to Paulson & Co, a hedge-fund group that has made billions from the collapse in American housing.
The lightness of touch reached a level that defies belief. America has an Office of Risk Assessment, set up in 2004 to co-ordinate risk management for the main regulator, the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC). Jonathan Sokobin, its director, says it is charged with “understanding how financial markets are changing, to identify potential and existing risks at regulated and unregulated entities”. According to its website, it also helps to “anticipate, identify and manage risks, focusing on early identification of new or resurgent forms of fraud and illegal or questionable activities… across the corporate and financial sector”. By early 2008, this office was reduced to a staff of one. “When that gentleman would go home at night,” says Lynn Turner, the SEC’s former chief accountant, “he could turn the lights out. We had gotten down to just one person at the SEC responsible for identifying the risk at all the institutions.” The $596-trillion market in unregulated derivatives, including $58 trillion in credit-default swaps, was being watched by one person. That’s when he wasn’t looking at the rest of the corporate world, of course.
CONTINUED (with a tip of the fin to the great DUer KoKo...
http://business.timesonline.co.uk/tol/business/industry_sectors/banking_and_finance/article6281953.ece?token=null&offset=0&page=1 The guy can grow a beard and bicycle from Southampton to Sverdlovsk and people will still recognize him.