SLATE moneybox
Will Your Recession Be Tall, Grande, or Venti?
The more Starbucks a country has, the bigger its financial problems.

By Daniel Gross
Posted Monday, Oct. 20, 2008, at 6:04 PM ET

Remember Thomas Friedman's McDonald's theory of international
relations? The thinking was that if two countries had evolved into
prosperous, mass-consumer societies, with middle classes able to
afford Big Macs, they would generally find peaceful means of
adjudicating disputes. They'd sit down over a Happy Meal to resolve
issues rather than use mortars. The recent unpleasantries between
Israel and Lebanon [not to mention Russia and Georgia], which both
have McDonald's operations ... put paid to that reasoning. But the
Golden Arches theory of realpolitik was good while it lasted.

In the same spirit, I propose the Starbucks theory of international
economics. The higher the concentration of expensive, nautically
themed, faux-Italian-branded Frappuccino joints in a country's
financial capital, the more likely the country is to have suffered
catastrophic financial losses.

It may sound doppio, but work with me. This recent crisis has its
roots in the unhappy coupling of a frenzied nationwide real-estate
market centered in California, Las Vegas, and Florida, and a
nationwide credit mania centered in New York. If you could pick one
brand name that personified these twin bubbles, it was Starbucks. The
Seattle-based coffee chain followed new housing developments into the
suburbs and exurbs, where its outlets became pit stops for real-estate
brokers and their clients. It also carpet-bombed the business
districts of large cities, especially the financial centers, with
nearly 200 in Manhattan alone. Starbucks' frothy treats provided the
fuel for the boom, the caffeine that enabled deal jockeys to stay up
all hours putting together offering papers for CDOs, and helped
mortgage brokers work overtime processing dubious loan documents.
Starbucks strategically located many of its outlets on the ground
floors of big investment banks. (The one around the corner from the
former Bear Stearns headquarters has already closed.)

Like American financial capitalism, Starbucks, fueled by the capital
markets, took a great idea too far (quality coffee for Starbucks,
securitization for Wall Street) and diluted the experience
unnecessarily (subprime food such as egg-and-sausage sandwiches for
Starbucks, subprime loans for Wall Street). Like so many
sadder-but-wiser Miami condo developers, Starbucks operated on a
"build it and they will come" philosophy. Like many of the humiliated
Wall Street firms, the coffee company let algorithms and
number-crunching get the better of sound judgment: If the waiting time
at one Starbucks was over a certain number of minutes, Starbucks
reasoned that an opposite corner could sustain a new outlet. Like the
housing market, Starbucks peaked in the spring of 2006 and has since
fallen precipitously.

America's financial crisis has gone global in the past month. European
and Asian governments, which until recently were rejoicing over
America's financial downfall, have had to nationalize banks and expand
depositors' insurance. Why? Many of their banks feasted on American
subprime debt and took shoddy risk-management cues from their American
cousins. Indeed, the countries whose financial sectors were most
connected to the U.S.-dominated global financial system, the ones
whose financial institutions plunged into CDOs, credit-default swaps,
and the whole catalog of horribles have suffered the most.

What does this have to do with the price of coffee? Well, when you
start poking around Starbucks' international store locator, some
interesting patterns emerge. At first blush, there's a pretty close
correlation between a country having a significant Starbucks presence,
especially in its financial capital, and major financial cock-ups,
from Australia (big blowups in finance, hedge funds, and asset
management companies; 23 stores) to the United Kingdom
(nationalization of its largest banks). In many ways, London in recent
years has been a more concentrated version of New York—the wellspring
of many toxic innovations, a hedge-fund haven. It sports 256
Starbucks. In Spain, which is now grappling with the bursting of a
speculative coastal real-estate bubble (sound familiar?), the
financial capital, Madrid, has 48 outlets. In crazy Dubai, 48
Starbucks outlets serve a population of 1.4 million. And so on: South
Korea, which is bailing outs its banks big time, has 253; Paris, the
locus of several embarrassing debacles, has 35.

But there are many spots on the globe where it's tough to find a
Starbucks. And these are precisely the places where banks are
surviving, in large part because they have not financially integrated
with banks in the Starbucks economies. In the entire continent of
Africa, whose banks don't stray too far, I count just three (in
Egypt). We haven't heard much about bailouts in Central America, where
Starbucks has no presence. South America's banks may be buckling, but
they haven't broken. Argentina, formerly a financial basket case and
now a pocket of relative strength, has just one store. Brazil, with a
population of nearly 200 million, has a mere 14. Italy hasn't suffered
any major bank failures in part because its banking sector isn't very
active on the international scene. The number of Starbucks there?
Zero. And the small countries of Northern Europe, whose banking
systems have been largely spared, are largely Starbucks-free. (There
are two in Denmark, three in the Netherlands, and none in the
Scandinavian trio of Sweden, Finland, and Norway.)

My tentative theory: Having a significant Starbucks presence is a
pretty significant indicator of the degree of connectedness to the
form of highly caffeinated, free-spending capitalism that got us into
this mess. It's also a sign of a culture's willingness to abandon
traditional norms and ways of doing business (virtually all the
countries in which Starbucks has established beachheads have their own
venerable coffee-house traditions) in favor of fast-moving American
ones. The fact that the company or its local licensee felt there was
room for dozens of outlets where consumers would pony up lots of
euros, liras, and rials for expensive drinks is also a pretty good
indicator that excessive financial optimism had entered the
bloodstream.

This theory isn't foolproof. Some places that have relatively high
concentrations of Starbucks, such as Santiago, Chile (27), have been
safe havens. Russia, which has just six, has blown up. But it's close
enough. And so, if you're looking for potential trouble spots, forget
about the Financial Times or the Bloomberg terminal. Just look at the
user-friendly Starbucks store locator. The next potential trouble
spot? I just returned from a week in Istanbul, Turkey, a booming
financial capital increasingly tied to the fortunes of Western Europe.
It has a storied coffee culture, yet I gave up counting the number of
Starbucks stores occupying prime real estate. It turns out there are
67 of them. Watch out, Turkey.

Daniel Gross is the Moneybox columnist for Slate and the business
columnist for Newsweek. You can e-mail him at [EMAIL PROTECTED] He
is the author of Pop! Why Bubbles Are Great for the Economy.

-- 
Jim Devine /  "Nobody told me there'd be days like these / Strange
days indeed -- most peculiar, mama." -- JL.
_______________________________________________
pen-l mailing list
[email protected]
https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l

Reply via email to