Staring Into the Abyss
It was late in September of 1998. I was flying from New York to Bermuda to speak at a hedge fund conference, and found myself upgraded at the last minute, back in the day when I did not fly that much, so I was feeling rather happy. As the door closed, a patrician-looking gentleman stepped in and came and sat next to me, immediately picking up a file and burrowing into it. I had a book and the Wall Street Journal, so I was content to read.
As soon as we took off, he asked for a scotch. He proceeded, over the next hour, to wage a very aggressive war on the diminishing cache of scotch bottles stored on board. (No, it was not Art Cashin. He doesn't fly.) It was an arduous campaign, but he was fully committed to winning.
He glanced over to my Journal and noted some headline about the crisis that had occurred the previous week. I had been following the extreme market volatility with interest, but this was in the first decade of the internet, so most of what you came by you still read in print or heard on the phone.
"They don't really know how close we came," he shuddered, his eyes showing the first signs of emotion – and fear – I had seen from him. That piqued my interest, and I engaged him, though without touching his precious hoard of scotch. I settled for a nice chardonnay. It turned out he was the second-ranking executive at one of the three largest banks in the country. He had been at the table in the NY Fed boardroom when 14 banks were forced to put in $3.625 billion to keep Long Term Capital from collapsing, with only Bear Stearns declining (one of the reasons they had no friends ten years later). The NY Fed president had essentially called all the heads of the banks, told them to be in the room, not to send proxies, and to bring their checkbooks. There was subsequently a lot of criticism of the Fed, but they did what a central bank is supposed to do in times like that: they made the children play nice in the sandbox. They were the only entity that could force the various monster-ego players to even sit in the same room with each other.
"No one will ever really know," he said again. But of course, soon everyone did, as Roger Lowenstein wrote the must-read real-life thriller When Genius Failed.
"We walked to the edge of the abyss, and we looked over." He proceeded to regale me with the stories of the negotiations, as the immensity of what would happen if they allowed the collapse dawned on the group one by one. They all had exposure to LTCM but did not realize the extent of it until it was too late. Looking back, it might have looked something like the credit crisis of 2008 if they had not acted, except it would have happened much faster.
I can tell you that no one in that room wanted to write a $300-million check. It was not good for their careers. Interestingly, after two years the fund was liquidated and the banks got back their capital plus a small profit.
http://www.businessinsider.com/staring-into-the-abyss-2012-1#ixzz2eVZJdx00
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2011-...ns-of-long-term-capital-roger-lowenstein.html
http://www.zerohedge.com/news/2013-...n-collateral-or-how-modern-money-really-works (10 years of "financial stability" needed?)
(I haven't read in detail about what happened then, but battle tested could mean he was just there living through it in real time, if not being real decision maker)
Facebook
Twitter