A couple weeks in, the FPC is ALREADY calling for "drastic reform"

Bank of England’s Andy Haldane calls 'em like he sees ‘em.

It seems a bit odd for one of the key figures in the UK’s newly installed financial regulatory structure to be calling for drastic reform of bank regulation already, but the Bank of England’s Andy Haldane seems to be calling them like he sees ‘em nonetheless.

Haldane is executive director of financial stability for the Bank’s Financial Policy Committee (FPC), the forward-looking systemic risk identifier created alongside the FCA and PRA as a result of 2012’s Financial Services act.

Given his position, it was interesting to hear him identify a “Byzantine” regulatory structure as a credible threat to the stability of the banking system, at a dinner held by the International Financial Law Review (IFLR) yesterday.

Complex regulation, he said, has only acted to the advantage of those with most resources to devote to exploiting gaps in the rules, arguing instead that “Simple measures of bank leverage, untainted by such complexity, were ten times better at predicting banking failure during the crisis than complex regulatory alternatives.”

Along with proposing a leverage ratio “north, possibly well north” of international requirements (a view that makes sense given Haldane’s work on the Basel committee), he suggested a “restructuring rule” facilitating simple wind-downs of banking operations, and a “resolution rule” governing restructuring, as the main building blocks of a stripped-down regulatory system.

Perhaps the most insightful back-to-basics comment made by Haldane this week, however, came at an event held the day before the IFLR dinner by the Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta.

Speaking on the subject of executive bonuses, he built on comments made in January (regarding the proposed deferral of bonuses by ten years to encourage prudence) to suggest that debt, rather than equity, should make up the mainstay of management compensation structures.

“Equity can give strange incentives” to the management of banks in crisis, he argued, adding that during the financial crisis, “many big firms gambled for their resurrection when, if you look at how top management was remunerated, it was heavily in equity.”

Debt elements facing wipeout in the event of business failure, he explained, could act as a major counter to these “strange incentives” if built into pay structure, concluding that “more can and should be done to have those sorts of debt form a larger part of compensation structures.”

This approach – to look at the incentives that drive how banks behave, rather than creating a web of rules to restrict what is possible – feels very much in line with the current zeitgeist.

Steven D. Levitt, the economics world’s answer to Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park, had this to say in the first chapter of bestselling pop-econ book Freakonomics:

“The typical economist believes the world has not yet invented a problem that he cannot fix if given a free hand to design the proper incentive scheme. His solution may not always be pretty -- it may involve coercion or exorbitant penalties or the violation of civil liberties -- but the original problem, rest assured, will be fixed. An incentive is a bullet, a lever, a key: an often tiny object with astonishing power to change a situation.”

With this in mind, it’s tempting to think that a creative look at executive remuneration, a subject which currently enrages a large slice of the world’s population, and which has been blamed for a lot of the misery to affect global markets since 2008, may be the tool capable of cutting the Gordian knot of post-crisis regulation.  

Photograph: Getty Images

By day, Fred Crawley is editor of Credit Today and Insolvency Today. By night, he reviews graphic novels for the New Statesman.

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Leader: Trump and an age of disorder

Mr Trump’s disregard for domestic and international norms represents an unprecedented challenge to established institutions.

The US presidency has not always been held by men of distinction and honour, but Donald Trump is by some distance its least qualified occupant. The leader of the world’s sole superpower has no record of political or military service and is ignorant of foreign affairs. Throughout his campaign, he repeatedly showed himself to be a racist, a misogynist, a braggart and a narcissist.

The naive hope that Mr Trump’s victory would herald a great moderation was dispelled by his conduct during the transition. He compared his country’s intelligence services to those of Nazi Germany and repeatedly denied Russian interference in the election. He derided Nato as “obsolete” and predicted the demise of the European Union. He reaffirmed his commitment to dismantling Obamacare and to overturning Roe v Wade. He doled out jobs to white nationalists, protectionists and family members. He denounced US citizens for demonstrating against him. Asked whether he regretted any part of his vulgar campaign, he replied: “No, I won.”

Of all his predilections, Mr Trump’s affection for Vladimir Putin is perhaps the most troubling. When the 2012 Republican presidential nominee, Mitt Romney, warned that Russia was the “number one geopolitical foe” of the US, he was mocked by Barack Obama. Yet his remark proved prescient. Rather than regarding Mr Putin as a foe, however, Mr Trump fetes him as a friend. The Russian president aims to use the US president’s goodwill to secure the removal of American sanctions, recognition of Russia’s annexation of Crimea and respect for the murderous reign of the Syrian president, Bashar al-Assad. He has a worryingly high chance of success.

Whether or not Mr Trump has personal motives for his fealty (as a lurid security dossier alleges), he and Mr Putin share a political outlook. Both men desire a world in which “strongmen” are free to abuse their citizens’ human rights without fear of external rebuke. Mr Trump’s refusal to commit to Nato’s principle of collective defence provides Mr Putin with every incentive to pursue his expansionist desires. The historic achievement of peace and stability in eastern Europe is in danger.

As he seeks reconciliation with Russia, Mr Trump is simultaneously pursuing conflict with China. He broke with precedent by speaking on the telephone with the Taiwanese president, Tsai Ing-wen, and used Twitter to berate the Chinese government. Rex Tillerson, Mr Trump’s secretary of state nominee, has threatened an American blockade of the South China Sea islands.

Mr Trump’s disregard for domestic and international norms represents an unprecedented challenge to established institutions. The US constitution, with its separation of powers, was designed to restrain autocrats such as the new president. Yet, in addition to the White House, the Republicans also control Congress and two-thirds of governorships and state houses. Mr Trump’s first Supreme Court appointment will ensure a conservative judicial majority. The decline of established print titles and the growth of “fake news” weaken another source of accountability.

In these circumstances, there is a heightened responsibility on the US’s allies to challenge, rather than to indulge, Mr Trump. Angela Merkel’s warning that co-operation was conditional on his respect for liberal and democratic values was a model of the former. Michael Gove’s obsequious interview with Mr Trump was a dismal example of the latter.

Theresa May has rightly rebuked the president for his treatment of women and has toughened Britain’s stance against Russian revanchism. Yet, although the UK must maintain working relations with the US, she should not allow the prospect of a future trade deal to skew her attitude towards Mr Trump. Any agreement is years away and the president’s protectionist proclivities could yet thwart British hopes of a beneficial outcome.

The diplomatic and political conventions embodied by the “special relationship” have endured for more than seven decades. However, Mr Trump’s election may necessitate their demise. It was the belief that the UK must stand “shoulder to shoulder” with the US that led Tony Blair into the ruinous Iraq War. In this new age of disorder, Western leaders must avoid being willing accomplices to Mr Trump’s agenda. Intense scepticism, rather than sycophancy, should define their response.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era