For Every Action ...

[This post originally appeared at The Epicurean Dealmaker on December 10, 2009. It is reproduced here in its entirety.]

Christopher Columbus: "Hello there, hello there. Heh, heh. Ahh ... We white men. Other side of ocean. My name ... Chris-to-pher Co-lum-bus."
Indian chief: "Oh? You over here on a Fulbright?"
Christopher Columbus: "Hah? Uh, no, no. I'm over here on an Isabella, as a matter of fact. Which reminds me: I wanna take a few of you guys back with me in the boat to prove I discovered you."
Indian chief: "What you mean, discover us? We discover you."
Christopher Columbus: "You discovered us?"
Indian chief: "Certainly. We discover you on beach here. Is all how you look at it."
Christopher Columbus: "Ah, I never thought of that."

— "Columbus Discovers America," Stan Freberg Presents the United States of America, Vol. 1: The Early Years

It looks like Alistair Darling is going to have a quiet Christmas.

The UK finance minister unveiled a nasty Christmas surprise for bankers in the City yesterday: a 50%, non-deductible tax on discretionary bonuses in excess of £25,000 (or $41,000), to be levied against their employers' net income. This scurrilous government attack against chalk stripe suits, Soho strip clubs, and London property values landed with a sickening thud in Old Blighty. Many a banker's wife summarily cancelled their holiday plans and started contacting real estate agents in Geneva.

Today, Nicolas Sarkozy of France had the unmitigated gall (Unmitigated Gaul?) to pile on with a parallel policy proposal for his country's budget and an editorial in The Wall Street Journal, co-authored with famously dyspeptic Scot Gordon Brown. The fact that France agrees with the UK and is proposing a similar policy is proof positive that either La Republique has been secretly taken over by a stunted Englishman pretending to be French or the UK's Labour government is so desperate to retain power that it's turning Gaullist. Probably both.

In any event, the policy—as do all new tax policies at the end of the day—has triggered a desperate surge of scurrying about by bankers and banks, as they attempt to discover ways out of the trap. Their prospects do not look good.

London contacts report senior investment bankers stacked three deep on the pavement outside advisory boutiques' offices this morning, banging on the custom paneled mahogany doors to get entrance for interviews. One Vice President remarked he hadn't seen that many bespoke suits in one place since he stumbled into Gieves and Hawkes' basement storeroom on Saville Row by mistake. I predict independent UK advisors will quintuple their headcount by Christmas.

Other Voices – December 8, 2009

Where else could Kashkari have gone?, Felix Salmon. Neel Kashkari flees the woods (literally) for PIMCO:

Now it’s entirely possible that Kashkari went to Treasury out of pure selflessness — but he’s blazed a trail now (or at least he would have done had he not been following in the footsteps of many who went before him) and in future anybody moving to Treasury can expect that doing so is liable to do wonders for their employability and their chances of ever making a seven-figure income.

Hmm. Jumping into the welcoming embrace of the private sector so soon after leaving one of the most powerful and undefined governmental roles in financial history does seem a little ... unseemly. Perhaps my suggestion for a merged SEC and CFTC that we should "[d]ouble or triple ... professionals' pay, and impose a minimum five-year ban on joining any financial services provider after leaving the agency" should apply to Treasury, too.

A Windfall Profits Tax for Goldman Sachs?, Steven Davidoff, The Deal Professor. Provocative, to say the least. I worry that I have become excessively attracted to punitive, one-off solutions to intransigent structural problems. Must be my inner Bolshevist asserting itself.

Compromising my values every day, for you., Ultimi Barbarorum. Baruch defends financial markets as excessively complicated and sensitive emergent phenomena unsuitable for clumsy tampering. I think he also argues against a transaction (or Tobin) tax in there somewhere, but I seem to have misplaced my extensive notes.

We Didn't Start the Fire

[This post originally appeared at The Epicurean Dealmaker on December 7, 2009. It is reproduced here in its entirety.]

Rob Slolom: "Wow. Eight Oscars, 400 million dollars at the box office, and you saved Tugg Speedman's career."
Les Grossman: "I couldn't have done it without you."
Rob Slolom: "Really?"
Les Grossman: "No, dickhead. Of course I could. A nutless monkey could do your job. Now, go get drunk and take credit at all the parties."
Rob Slolom: "I wouldn't do that."
Les Grossman: "Ah ... joking. "
Rob Slolom: "Ah, there he is! Funny. You're a funny guy."
Les Grossman: "Yeah. But seriously, a nutless monkey could do your job."

— Tropic Thunder

For what it is worth, O Dearly Beloved, you cannot count me among the rabid, spittle-flecked populists who lump private equity plutocrats in with venal investment bankers, clueless commercial bankers, meretricious mortgage brokers, and Nancy Pelosi's manicurist as the principal agents of our current economic desuetude. While it is true that many of these would-be Captains of Industry did purchase companies at preposterously high valuations in 2006 and 2007 at the orgiastic climax of the Sino-Greenspan credit bubble, the most the majority of these hapless boobs can be accused of is getting their wee-wees caught in the woodchipper of mistaken opportunity.

Vast herds of professional morons in the fixed income investor community apparently thought it was a brilliant idea to offer virtually limitless quantities of debt at virtually invisible interest rates with virtually zero credit protection to picayune ex-investment bankers so the latter could snap up the flower of American (and global) industry at 250% of retail. With limited exceptions, said PE types said "What the hell," and signed on the dotted line. After all, their fiduciary and professional duty to their own investors is simply to maximize returns on contributed capital. And, in the unexpected case their investments went belly up, the PE professionals and their limited partners could just hand over the keys to the failed portfolio companies to their embarrassed lenders. What was not to like?

Of course, many of the overlevered companies owned by private equity firms are now struggling or have failed entirely. Hundreds if not thousands of employees who worked at these investments have been laid off, and thousands if not millions of citizens whose pension funds or universities invested in their shitty debt have taken it in the neck. But caveat emptor, eh?