How to set Libor in a post-Barclays age

Time for the banks to have some skin in the game

The Libor-fixing scandal is obviously problematic for a number of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that it isn't entirely clear how to prevent it happening again. The only reason we know for sure the rates were artificially set are the (still astonishing) internal emails from Barclays requesting that.

The issue is that, certainly at the height of the financial crisis, and even now, Libor relies on self-reported rates. Banks rarely actually borrow in large quantities from the inter-bank market any more, so rather than reporting what they are borrowing at, they are forced to report what they think they could report at. The problem then is that unless you have cast-iron evidence that there is an ulterior motive, its hard to distinguish rate-fixing from just not really guesstimating your rates very well.

Some have responded to this by arguing that the replacement to Libor should be based on actual borrowing. If a bank isn't borrowing on the inter-bank market, they report some other similar cost of capital; if they aren't borrowing at all, they don't submit. But in the FT today, Frank Partnoy comes up with another, more ingenious solution:

The teeth of the new regulation would be a rule requiring the bank that submitted the lowest Libor estimate to lend a significant amount of money, say $1bn, to the Libor Trust at its submitted low rate. Conversely, the bank submitting the highest Libor estimate would be required to borrow the same amount from the Libor Trust, in the relevant currency for the specified period of time, at its submitted high rate.

So if Barclays under-reports its rate by 1 per cent and finds itself the lowest reporting bank, it suddenly loses out on $10m over the course of a year. And the same problem if it over-reports. If, meanwhile, RBS over-reports by 1 per cent, it loses out on the same; and the trust in charge of setting the rates pockets the $20m difference (which could then go towards running costs, into the Treasury, or some other noble cause).

If there is a problem with that, it's that it may not be entirely painless to be forced to borrow $1bn even at accurately reported rates. But that seems like a small price to pay for regenerating trust in a system which has suffered a severe blow.

Barclays. Rates up, up, up? Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Photo: Getty
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Labour's purge: how it works, and what it means

The total number of people removed will be small - but the rancour will linger. 

Labour has just kicked off its first big wave of expulsions, purging many voters from the party’s leadership rolls. Twitter is ablaze with activists who believe they have been kicked out because they are supporters of Jeremy Corbyn. There are, I'm told, more expulsions to come - what's going on?  Is Labour purging its rolls of Corbyn supporters?

The short answer is “No”.

If that opener feels familiar, it should: I wrote it last year, when the last set of purges kicked off, and may end up using it again next year. Labour has stringent rules about expressing support for other candidates and membership of other parties, which account for the bulk of the expulsions. It also has a code of conduct on abusive language which is also thinning the rolls, with supporters of both candidates being kicked off. 

Although the party is in significantly better financial shape than last year, it still is running a skeleton staff and is recovering from an expensive contest (in this case, to keep Britain in the European Union). The compliance unit itself remains small, so once again people from across the party staff have been dragooned in.

The process this year is pretty much the same: Labour party headquarters doesn’t have any bespoke software to match its voters against a long list of candidates in local elections, compiled last year and added to the list of candidates that stood against Labour in the 2016 local and devolved elections, plus a large backlog of complaints from activists.

It’s that backlog that is behind many of the highest-profile and most controversial examples. Last year, in one complaint that was not upheld, a local member was reported to the Compliance Unit for their failure to attend their local party’s annual barbecue. The mood in Labour, in the country and at Westminster, is significantly more bitter this summer than last and the complaints more personal. Ronnie Draper, the general secretary of the Bfawu, the bakers’ union, one of Corbyn’s biggest supporters in the trade union movement, has been expelled, reported for tweets which included the use of the word “traitors” to refer to Labour opponents of Corbyn.  Jon Will Chambers, former bag carrier to Stella Creasy, and a vocal Corbyn critic on Twitter, has been kicked out for using a “Theresa May” twibbon to indicate his preference for May over Andrea Leadsom, in contravention of the party’s rules.

Both activities breach the letter of the party’s rules although you can (and people will) make good arguments against empowering other people to comb through the social media profiles of their opponents for reasons to dob them in.  (In both cases, I wouldn’t be shocked if both complaints were struck down on appeal)

I would be frankly astonished if Corbyn’s margin of victory – or defeat, as unlikely as that remains in my view – isn’t significantly bigger than the number of people who are barred from voting, which will include supporters of both candidates, as well as a number of duplicates (some people who paid £25 were in fact members before the freeze date, others are affliated trade unionists, and so on). 

What is unarguably more significant, as one party staffer reflected is, “the complaints are nastier now [than last year]”. More and more of the messages to compliance are firmly in what you might call “the barbecue category” – they are obviously groundless and based on personal animosity. That doesn’t feel like the basis of a party that is ready to unite at any level. Publicly and privately, most people are still talking down the chances of a split. It may prove impossible to avoid.

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. He usually writes about politics.