-----Original Message-----
From: Sid Shniad [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]]
Sent: March 13, 2001 7:10 PM
Subject: Capitalism's Casino (the stock market) - The Guardian


The Guardian                                                    March 5,
2001

Capitalism's Casino 

        As social security dwindled, Americans gambled on the stock market 
        to protect their futures. They're losing 

        By Gary Younge

        Six months ago a church worker in Harlem put me on hold for what 
felt like an indecently long time. Just as I was about to hang up on our 
conversation about the church's moral responsibility to balance the 
competing goals of historical preservation, economic development and 
racial and social diversity in the area, he returned to my ear as abruptly 
as he'd left. "Sorry," he said. "That was my broker. That's a call I had to 
take. Now where were we?" 

        A few days later I mentioned this to a social worker in Brooklyn by 
way of an amusing anecdote. He was amused - but only by my naivety. 
"You always take the call from your broker," he said. "I'd put my wife on 
hold for him. And she wouldn't be mad if I told you either. She'd do the 
same thing." 

        In a country where the percentage of people owning stock and 
equities had risen by 31% in four years, following the stock market had 
become a national sport. With more than a third of the nation owning 
stocks, Wall Street and Main Street appeared to have converged. The 
average investor might be in his or her late forties, white and professional

but stock ownership had breached the barriers of race, social class, 
ethnicity, political affiliation and region in a way previously reserved for

God and Coca Cola. Around 80m Americans owned stocks or mutual 
funds - more than watch the Oscars, surf the internet or voted in the 1998 
congressional elections and double the number in 1983. 

        Everyone, it seemed, could be a dealer; and dealing and following 
your stocks could take place everywhere. Thanks to new technologies 
you could trade from your home and check your stocks on your mobile 
phone in an aeroplane and in most business foyers, where hungry eyes 
feasted on flashing numbers flickering across television screens. 

        All things considered, this was hardly surprising. Between 1982 and 
1999 prices on the stock market climbed every year but one. In 1999 the 
Nasdaq leapt 86% and reached its high point this weekend last year. Just 
as Fukuyama proclaimed the end of history, so theorists believed the 
"new economy" could defy gravity and logic. 

        But the ramifications went way beyond the economic. Socially, the 
stock market was the main topic of conversation at water-coolers, 
barbecues and dinner parties. "I felt I had to get some stocks just so I'd 
have something to talk about," said a Brit who moved to New York two 
years ago. People joined investment clubs in thousands and some 
mutual-fund seminars with top money managers were standing room 
only. 

        Culturally, it was de rigueur. Business presenters became household 
names. The anchorwoman for the business channel, CNBC, found herself 
so besieged that she started asking her husband to pick up the Chinese 
takeaway. "I'm trying to get out of there with my food," said Sue Herera, 
"and the cook's asking, 'What's with Intel?'" 

        Television shows like The Street and Bull turned the stock market
into 
prime-time soap operas. "Wall Street is the new American pastime," said 
Michael Chernuchin, the creator of Bull, last year. "People follow the Dow 
and Nasdaq like they are sports scores. The average New York cabby 
used to have the Daily News on the front seat beside him. Today, he also 
has Barron's and the Wall Street Journal." 

        So long as graphs went skywards the outlook remained sunny. But 
with markets plunging, and the economy flattening, the stock-buying 
American public now find themselves under a stubborn, dark cloud. 
Membership of investment clubs has dropped 23% in the past two years; 
advertising in personal finance magazines has nose-dived; The Street 
was cancelled halfway through its run thanks to poor ratings. In the space 
of just two weeks last month the number of investors describing 
themselves as bears almost trebled while the number of bulls more than 
halved, according to a membership poll by the American Association of 
Individual Investors. 

        To some, this signals nothing more than the jitters of novices who 
were in it for the quick buck rather than the long run. The increase in 
stock ownership, argued the right, demonstrates both the invincibility and 
democratisation of capitalism, turning millions from spectators to players 
in the free market. With everyone from social workers to the clergy 
involved, the primacy of the market was entrenched. 

        Whether this was wilful disingenuousness or wishful thinking (or
both) 
is not clear. Either way it represents a fundamental misinterpretation of 
the phenomenon. For while some joined the investor class with making 
an easy fortune in mind, the motivation for most of this new generation of 
investors is not getting rich but not becoming poor. 

        Since the Republicans started slashing spending on wealth, 
healthcare and education and weakening labour laws, prompting job 
insecurity, people have looked for ways to make themselves less 
vulnerable. A survey released last year by Ariel Mutual Funds and 
Charles Schwab revealed that saving money for retirement, children's 
college education and emergencies were all cited before "obtaining a 
better lifestyle" as reasons for investing in stocks. 

        This was not confined to the US. Many Britons invested in private 
pensions, endowment policies and private health care because they could 
see the writing on the wall for the welfare state, pensions and the NHS 
under the Conservatives. 

        And while the political complexion of governments may change, the 
basic belief that the market can, should and will play a meaningful role in 
supporting our social needs prevails. Herein lies the ideological impetus 
for the third way and private-public partnerships pushed by Blair. It also 
provides the glue for Bush's planned social security reforms, whereby 
workers will have "individual retirement accounts" with managers they can 
designate themselves. 

        With the stock markets taking a pounding, the fig leaf for this
political 
direction has been removed. In its place we see that the politics of the 
past 15 years has been based on the assumption of permanent economic 
prosperity. What sense does welfare to work make if there is no work? 
What point is there in private finance initiatives if capital is scarce? 

        Meanwhile America's baby boomers sit and fret. With each market 
bulletin they see their hopes for a comfortable retirement and a sound 
educational grounding for their children fade. Worse still, with the paper 
value of their assets plummeting, many have spent against savings that 
have withered away. 

        Economists call it dis-saving. "The collapse of savings has been one

of the most striking phenomena of the US economy in the 1990s," said 
the Financial Times. The trouble is, like those who took out endowments 
20 or so years ago in Britain only to find they cannot pay off their 
mortgage today, many here thought they were playing it relatively safe. 
Naive? - possibly. But their choices were limited. Having been 
ideologically cajoled and politically coerced to invest in their "own
future" 
they now find they have gambled it in capitalism's largest casino.

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