What went wrongIN RECENT months many economists and policymakers, including such unlikely bedfellows as Paul Krugman, an economist and New York Times columnist, and Hank Paulson, a former American treasury secretary, have put “global imbalances”—the huge current-account surpluses run by countries like China, alongside America’s huge deficit—at the root of the financial crisis. But the IMF disagrees. It argues, in new papers released on Friday March 6th, that the “main culprit” was deficient regulation of t he financial system, together with a failure of market discipline. Olivier Blanchard, the IMF's chief economist, said this week that global imbalances contributed only “indirectly” to the crisis. This may sound like buck-passing by the world’s main interna tional macroeconomic organisation. But the distinction has important consequences for whether macroeconomic policy or more regulation of financial markets will provide the solutions to the mess.In broad strokes, the global imbalances view of the crisis argues that a glut of money from countries with high savings rates, such as China and the oil-producing states, came flooding into America. This kept interest rates low and fuelled the credit boom and the related boom in the prices of assets, such as houses and equity, whose collapse precipitated the financial crisis. A workable long-term fix for the problems of the world economy would, therefore, involve figuring out what to do about these imbalances.But the IMF argues that imbalances could not have caused the crisis without the creative ability of financial institutions to develop new structures and instruments to cater to investors’ demand for higher yields. These instruments turned out to be more risky than they appeared. Investors, overly optimistic about continued rises in asset prices, did not look closely into the nature of the assets that they bought, preferring to rely on the analysis of credit-rating agencies which were, in some cases, also selling advice on how to game the ratings system. This “failure of market discipline”, the fund argues, played a big role in the crisis.As big a problem, according to the IMF, was that financial regulation was flawed, ineffective and too limited in scope. What it calls the “shadow banking system”—the loosely regulated but highly interconnected network of investment banks, hedge funds, mortgage originators, and the like—was not subject to the sorts of prudential regulation (capital-adequacy norms, for example) that applied to banks.In part, the fund argues, this was because they were not thought to be systemically important, in the sense that banks were understood to be. But their being unregulated made it more attractive for banks (whose affiliates the non-banks often were) to evade capital requirements by pushing risk into these entities. In time, this network of institutions grew so large that they were indeed systemically important: in the now-familiar phrase, they were “too big” or “too interconnected” to fail. By late 2007, some estimates of the assets of the bank-like institutions in America outside the scope of existing prudential regulation, was around $10 trillion, as large as the assets of the regulated American banking system itself.Given this interpretation, it is not surprising that the IMF has thrown its weight strongly behind an enormous increase in the scale and scope of financial regulation in a series of papers leading up to the G20 meetings. Among many other proposals, it wants the shadow banking system to be subjected to the same sorts of prudential requirements that banks must follow. Sensibly, it is calling for regulation to concentrate on what an institution does, not what it is called (that is, the basis of regulation should be activities, not entities). It also wants regulators to focus more broadly onthings that contribute to systemic risk (leverage, funding and interconnectedness), the significance of which was probably under-appreciated until the collapse of Lehman Brothers and the subsequent chaos. And there is much more to be done, it suggests, involving cross-border banking, disclosure requirements, indices of systemic risk and international co-operation.Yet there is an underlying inconsistency here. The IMF’s version of “how it all happened” is a classic example of institutions gaming the regulatory system. It is impossible to anticipate all the possible ways in which regulations can be evaded. And while the wisdom of hindsight may make it appear blindingly obvious that non-bank financial institutions could become large enough to pose a risk to the entire system, clearly this was not apparent to policymakers at the time. Increasing the scope of regulation may well prevent the precise problems that led to this crisis from recurring in the same way, but nothing stops financiers from finding ways to evade the plethora of regulations that the fund is proposing. It is hard to shoot a moving target.And what about those pesky imbalances? The IMF’s view, broadly speaking, is that without excessive risk-taking by financial institutions, which was aided by the absence of regulation, imbalances would not by themselves have caused the meltdown. But equally, without the flood of money seeking returns, the risky financial instruments that the IMF is blaming for increasing systemic risk may not hav e grown and posed the risk that they did. Some blame the IMF’s policies during the Asian crisis for spurring countries in the region to build up enormous reserves. That may offer part of the explanation for why the Fund has come down so strongly on one side of the debate. Household choresTHERE are two radically different tales doing the rounds about HSBC, Europe’s biggest lender by market value. The first says that HSBC, deep down, is still an emerging-markets operation run by rugged types who disdain the sorcery of modern finance. Under the temporary grip of an evil spell in 2003 they bought Household, an American consumer-credit firm that then haemorrhaged losses. On March 2nd they snapped out of it. HSBC’s chairman acknowledged that it was “an acquisitio n we wish we had not undertaken”, wrote off its cost and promised to run down its book of dodgy loans. Having opened its heart, HSBC felt able to lower its dividend and raise its core tier-one capital ratio to 8.5%, above those of JPMorgan Chase (6.4%) and Santander (7.2%), two more of the Western world’s biggest banks also vying for the title of the safest one.Against this there is a horror story. It says that HSBC’s definition of capital excludes mark-to-market losses on asset-backed securities (ABS). Furthermore, particularly demanding critics say that it also excludes mark-to-market losses on its loan book. Like almost all banks, HSBC carries these at book value and impairs as customers default. However, include both these items and the core tier-one ratio would drop to just 2%. Treating loan books on the same basis, JPMorgan would be at 5% and many other banks would be insolvent.This would suggest that HSBC is in fact poorly capitalised, and needs to raise even more equity. The alternative, advocated by, among others, Knight Vinke, an activist investor, would be to cut loose Household, which HSBC does not legally guarantee and which accounts for just over half of the additional mark-to-market losses. Household’s credit spreads are much higher than HSBC’s, suggesting that investors think this is possible, despite HSBC’s verb al assurances to the contrary. Which story is right? Given the risk of litigation, the reputational hit and the fact that HSBC has itself loaned Household some $13.5 billion, its mark-to-market loss would have to get a lot worse before HSBC was prepared to let it default. And like many banks, HSBC argues that there is at least some chance mark-to-market losses overstate the ultimate impairments it will face. The ABS losshas been very volatile, doubling in six months and stands at ten times HSBC’s “stress test” estimate of the probable hit. The mark-to-market loss on Household’s loan book is double what optimistic analysts think the likely ultimate impairment will be.Pleading that fair-value accounting is cruel is hardly unique, but what makes HSBC’s position more credible than most is that it has the capacity to wait and see. Its funding position is excellent with deposits exceeding loans, reducing its dependence on wholesale markets. And the core business continues to generate lots of pre-provision earnings. If spread out over several years, the bank could absorb the hit from Household implied by the mark to-market valuation without damaging its capital.Indeed the real moral of the tale is different. Compared with other banks HSBC is protected by its big deposit base and its profitability. It looks therefore as if investors will back the rights issue. Others do not have even that comfort.Slash and burnIT FELT like death by a thousand cuts. Already this month has seen plenty to rattle stockmarkets, from dreadful economic news to the continuing bloodshed at American International Group, an insurer. Commodity firms were given a reprieve on March 4th by hopes of a big stimulus package in China—though all they got was reaffirmation of the country’s 8% growth target. Meanwhile, a new fear haunts the markets: the mounting number of firms slashing their dividends.That banks and insurance companies will chop their payments is now understood, but the pain has spread. General Electric (GE) has cut its dividend for the first time in 71 years, Dow Chemical for the first time since 1912. In Europe previously reliable payers like Telecom Italia and Anglo-American, a mining firm, have reduced their payouts, and even BP has said it cannot increase its dividend at today’s oil prices. Income investors were left to ponder Eurotunnel, the operator of the rail link between France and Britain, which will pay the first dividend since its creation in 1986. Its $9m may buy a few tissues for those mourning the loss of $9 billion of annual payouts from GE alone.Based on experience since the second world war, investors had cause to be more optimistic. Although stock prices and earnings move up and down violently, dividends have been more reliable, typically falling from the peak of a cycle to its trough by only one-tenth in real terms. Furthermore, the share of American earnings paid out as dividends has declined from a post-war peak of almost two-thirds to about one-third in 2007, with many firms preferring stock buybacks (which have now ground to a halt). That should have given companies a bigger buffer.Unfortunately other structural trends worked against income-lovers. Firms’ debt levels rose, increasing the volatility of earnings. And the quality of the profits fell. Financial companies contributed about one-third of the $736 billion of dividends paid globally by quoted firms in 2007. Standard & Poor’s, a rating agency, reckons that dividends in America could fa ll by about a quarter this year—the steepest drop since 1938. Even this may understate the decline. Financial firms’ payouts will collapse—even relatively well capitalised banks like JPMorgan Chase have reduced their dividends. And more of the industrial firms that make up the other two-thirds of total dividends will cut too. Pessimists point to 1931-35, when dividends per share in America fell by 45% from peak to trough.For many firms dividend cuts are an unpleasant task that should not be shirked. There is no point in starving a business and endangering a firm’s balance-sheet in order to meet macho dividend commitments. The counter-argument, that cuts remove an important discipline on managers, hardlyholds true today, when all firms are counting the pennies. That being so, when firms announced cuts why did their share prices slump? The reason has a lot to do with signalling.A share’s value must be the present value of all future dividends—otherwise stockmarkets would be a giant Ponzi scheme. But in theory shareholders should not care whether dividends are paid out today or later. Just as taking money out of a cash machine does not make you richer, nor does extracting cash from a firm you own. Investors who need income to meet pension payments, for example, can raise it just as well by selling a small part of their holdings instead of receiving dividends. It is true that dividends, rather than capital appreciation, have provided a big chunk of long-term equity returns. But this partly reflects the choice of firms to pay out a big chunk of their earnings. Had they paid out less, capital appreciation would, in theory, have been commensurately higher.The main reason why investors are worried is that dividends are a guide to managers’ views of when earnings might reach their trough: they do not want to pay the dividend out of borrowing, or worse, cut it again. Occasionally this floor is breached—in 1933 American earnings per share dropped below dividends. Today, GE has cut its quarterly dividend from 31 cents per share to ten cents. That is partly to reduce gearing, but also suggests managers’ low confidence in analysts’ forecasts for earnings of about 30 cents. Likewise if American dividends fall by a third from their recent peak, then—assuming they set a floor for profits—earnings would bottom out at about two-thirds below the level of 2007. That would be a drop on a par with the 1930s and far below most forecasts. An overblown scenario perhaps, but the scare over dividends suggests that many investors are still too optimistic.What went wrong最近几个月，许多经济学家和决策者们，包括一些意见不太可能的一致的家伙：例如纽约时报专栏作者，经济学家保罗•克鲁格曼和美国前财长汉克•保尔森，都一致认为“全球失衡”——像中国一样的一些国家拥有巨大的经常账户盈余，而美国却有着巨额的赤字——是这次金融危机的根源所在。