Skeptonomics

So Larry Summers will return to government in a key role on Obama’s economic team. It is said that he has a new outlook, less enamored of markets, more concerned with the fate of the bottom 90%. Fine. I’m all for a second chance, or a fifth or twelfth for that matter. I just want to see a Greenspan moment, with Larry facing the cameras and saying “I was wrong. Not just about a few small things or for a short time. I was wrong about the main thing, the idea that markets can be relied on to regulate the economy in the public interest, and I remained wrong throughout my earlier career in government. I cannot undo all the mistakes I made, but by acknowledging them I hope I can convince you I have learned from that experience, and that I will approach the crucial decisions before us with an open, humble and non-doctrinaire mind.”

I feel petty, oh so petty.

Once upon a time, the left (or most of it) thought they had history all figured out: they could interpret day-to-day politics in light of the tectonic shifts in social formations, and they had an endpoint to aim at, a model of an alternative, noncapitalist economic system. For some, this became an excuse for amoralism, the notion that the glorious revolutionary ends justified actions that would be morally repugnant by any other yardstick. The intellectual reflections of this amoralism, the writings on this topic by Trotsky, Merleau-Ponty, Fanon and the rest, are now seen as little more than an embarrassment.

Today the problem is more likely to be the reverse. Lacking a convincing view of history or the potential transformation of the existing order—in other words, lacking the basis for a systematic strategy—activists on the left are at risk of embracing an extreme moralism. If we don’t know how to change society, at least we can separate ourselves ethically: we can be the good people in an evil world.

So much political debate today has the unspoken premise, “How can I protect myself from being guilty?” Not in my name, they say, although the horrors are no less when some other name is invoked. Actually, wanting to not be guilty is a fine emotion, but it should be a springboard to effective, strategic action, not a politics of personal virtue.

In the latest issue of The Nation, Bill Greider expresses what has become the mantra of the left at this moment of high fiscal drama: nationalize the banks. Rather than just injecting passive capital, we are told to take a decisive position in common (voting) stock, so we can change the management, put our foot down on compensation, and generally change the whole modus operandi. It sounds very radical, harking back to the days when socialists saw nationalization of the commanding heights of the economy as the first step toward nationalization of the minor peaks, foothills and ultimately just about anything above sea level.

But it’s a bad idea. If you want the banks, you can have them. After the hammering they’ve taken in the market the last few months, their combined capitalization is a tiny fraction of the Fed’s new, gunky portfolio. And there’s a reason: they’ve got a solvency gap of trillions of dollars. Buy a bank and its liabilities are now yours. If you happen to be the US government, your full faith and credit is on the line for every penny.

There is nothing radical, not to mention equitable or practical, about underwriting the vast quantities of dubious financial instruments that metastasized during the past decade. You want a publicly owned and managed bank to lend against the tide and finance reconstruction? Start a new one.