Here's what Draghi meant when he said the ECB would "cope"

Even the ECB is getting creative now.

At today’s  European Central Bank post-meeting news conference, we discovered that ECB President Draghi and his fellow Governing Council members are pulling on their walking boots for a trip into unexplored territory namely, negative interest rates.

We all dozed through his opening, oft-repeated remark that the ECB, "stands ready to act", (if economic developments so-demand), but then, much more significantly, he repeated the phrase in response to a journalist’s question about whether the ECB would ever consider taking the Deposit Rate negative-that counts as a hint in my book, the markets seemed to agree, and everyone sat up in their seats to listen with rapt attention as he pushed home the hint by saying the ECB would "cope" with any unintended consequences of negative interest rates. That removed the last obstacle-hitherto, the ECB’s response to negative rate speculation has always been to refer to such fears. He also repeatedly emphasised the extent to which the Governing Council feels the transmission mechanism from low ECB policy rates to increased and cheaper lending to real people and businesses had healed itself, even in the Periphery, i.e. therefore, conventional policy tools are once again back in play and potentially efficacious.

I was also impressed by the way he didn’t repeat his usual mantra about not pre-committing to interest rate moves-he usually leaps down anybody’s throat if they’re silly enough to try and get him to do that!

Here’s what he meant when he said the ECB would "cope" with any nasty side effects of negative policy rates. The most frequently sighted potential undesirable consequence is an inability on the part of banks to fund themselves adequately, because Money Market Funds will be unwilling or statutorily unable to lend to banks at negative interest rates, for fear of "breaking the buck" in terms of their redemption prices to investors. So, the story goes, banks will become illiquid. Again.

However, the ECB has already proved to us all that liquidity is its party piece-witness its  Long Term Refinancing Operations and Outright Monetary Transactions, (well, witness the latter’s description at least, since it’s yet to be used in practice). Liquidity is what the ECB feels it’s there for, and what its mandate allows, as opposed to anything that smacks of the provision of deficit funding to governments.

This is what Draghi meant when he said the ECB would "cope". Even as he spoke, the ECB’s boffins were no doubt crafting some new, diabolically clever liquidity scheme.

The psychological effects of actually paying money every day to deposit money at the ECB would have quite a dramatic effect upon banks-more than that to be expected from a cut of only 0.25 per cent, and not only would this small move down in interest rates have an amplified effect upon banks’ willingness to lend, it will also lead the man in the street to think again before putting his money on deposit. Why not go and spend it-surely all these weird experiments  monetary policy must lead to inflation at some stage, so maybe better to buy that car now, before it costs more next year?

And if it works for the ECB, why not for the Bank of England and its incoming and undoubtedly imaginative new Guv’, Mark Carney? His defeated  Deputy, Paul Tucker, has already floated the concept.

Photograph: Getty Images

Chairman of  Saxo Capital Markets Board

An Honours Graduate from Oxford University, Nick Beecroft has over 30 years of international trading experience within the financial industry, including senior Global Markets roles at Standard Chartered Bank, Deutsche Bank and Citibank. Nick was a member of the Bank of England's Foreign Exchange Joint Standing Committee.

More of his work can be found here.

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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.