WINNERS AND LOSERS Here are several memes about winners and losers that I have cojoined. Meme 001: The Marxists Have Won 2001.5.1 It is not just that the workers now control the means of production: they *are* the means of production. According to Robert Fogel's ingenious and completely plausible calculations in his superb _The Fourth Great Awakening and the Future of Egalitarianism_ (U. of Chicago Press, 2000, p. 297), two-thirds of capital in the United States is human capital, the rest land and reproducable material assets. -------------- Meme 002: The Feminists Have Won 1.5.9 What women want is not equal pay or any other such equality as to be taken seriously for their minds. I asked several women at my office whether they were told when they were growing up not to act smart lest the boys not like them. Those of my generation--I was borm in 1944 and among the first boomers--invariably said yes. But those a generation earlier all said no. Signals for sexual attractiveness, like everything else are partly innate and partly learned. An attractive waist-hip ratio of around 0.70 universally sends a fertility message to men, but increasingly so does high intelligence: marry me and you will have smart and intelligent children. Female intelligence is rapidly becoming a sex signal. (It always was for me.) By no means do I claim that the professional feminists will go away any more than at age 11, evidently well on the way to becoming a hardened cynic, did I think the March of Dimes would stop merely because a vaccine for polio had been developed. Below is a newspaper item documenting the victory of the feminists using demographics. Many men pick brides for brains, not looks By Cherry Norton, Social Affairs Editor The Independent [England], 2000.5.27 A third of men now choose to marry "up", finding wives who have a higher education level than them and more chance of success in the job market. A new report suggests that a growing number of men are choosing life-long partners based on their intellect rather than their looks, and that they find cleverness attractive. Cohabitation, marrying later, and the growing economic independence of women have made it socially acceptable for men to marry women who are likely to earn more money, the report's authors said. "When people are looking for the best possible spouse, economics comes into it. High education attainment is one of the most valuable characteristics, as it is a good predictor of being able to earn a good income throughout life," said co-author Dr Brendan Halpin, of the Institute for Social and Economic Research at the University of Essex. "There are more and more married women in the workplace and the wife's qualifications and potential economic performance have become important factors for many men," he said. The report, Who marries whom in Great Britain?, is based on data collected by the British Household Panel Survey, an annual questionnaire of over 10,000 people, which includes life histories and marital choices of over 10,000 people. The findings show that before 1924, less than 14 per cent of men married "up", 39 per cent married "down" and 48 per cent married someone of the same educational level. The latest figures show that men are as likely to marry "up" as "down", with 37 per cent marrying women of equivalent educational status. People who marry soon after leaving school or university are the most likely to marry someone of the same educational level. But as the average age of first marriage has risen to nearly 27, men and women are working and meeting more people from different educational backgrounds. Cohabitation before marriage may be playing its part in women marrying men of lower educational level than them, Dr Halpin suggested. Cohabitation involves less commitment than marriage and people make "looser choices". "Once people are living together, the relationship survives or fails on more personal characteristics and different rules emerge," he said. The latest figures show that 35 per cent of cohabitations turn into marriage. Dr Halpin, who conducted the research with Dr Tak Wing Chan, from the University of Surrey, said: "The findings suggest that men are choosing to marry women of higher educational level, over and above what would be expected from the [general] increased educational level of women. "With the closing of the gender gap in educational attainment, and the gradual narrowing of the gender wage gap, brides may increasingly be valued for their contribution to the family income," said Dr Halpin. "We would expect women whose wage rate has increased to have become more attractive to potential husbands," he said. http://www.independent.co.uk/news/UK/This_Britain/2000- 05/bride270500.shtml ---------------- Meme 005: The Downtrodden Have Not Lost 1.5.22 While the Marxists have won--the workers now own the means of production because they *are* the means of production--and the feminists have won--intelligence is women is now a sex signal for fit offspring, there may be losers as the economy becomes more and more dependent on intelligence. Clearly, by every measure, those in the top quintile are ahead both relatively and absolutely and those in the second quintile probably are too. Those in the middle quintile may be losing relatively, but the absolute gains are far greater than commonly acknowledged. This is because the Consumer Price Index barely takes into account quality improvements. Factor this in, from razor blades and even bread (does any remember when bread would spoil after just one or two days?) to anything electronic, and it's clear that those in the middle quintile have also won. Those in the bottom quintile are so miserable and out of it that any growth in their relative inequality does not matter, while their absolute gains are real. Stephen Moore and Julian L. Simon, _It's Getting Better All the Time: 100 Greatest Trends of the Last 100 Years_ (Washington: Cato Institute, 2000), say that the poverty line today is what the average American earned in 1970. I am not sure the downtrodden even care. -------------- Meme 007: The Midtrodden Have Lost 1.5.28 Earlier I argued that the Marxists and feminists have won, that those in the top three quintiles have won, and that the downtrodden (those in the bottom quintile) have not lost. But what I call the midtrodden, those in the fourth quintile, have lost as we move more and more into the information economy, of which globalization is just one not very large part economically. The midtrodden are those who do have jobs, but not full-time, full-year ones. They are willing to work and work when they can. They rent and buy their cars on time, are maxed out on their credit cards, and never get ahead. They have many of the Protestant virtues, except those of planning. They are not very good consumers: I would not spend $7.99 on a rotisserie and Coca- Cola special, if I did not have much money! Here are two New York Times articles from last year about them. September 17, 2000 In a Working-Poor Town, Candidates Are Dismissed as Being Out of Touch By RICK BRAGG CROSS CITY, Fla., Sept. 14 The Greyhound seems to carry more people away from here than it ever brings back. Cindy Lamb works the cash register at the bus stop, and, one ticket stub at a time, she sells young people a way out of Dixie County. "There's nothing for them here but the logging in the woods, or at a sawmill," she said, making change at the Chevron station that also serves as the bus depot. Her own son left to find work in the Georgia carpet mills. Outside, people buy gas $5, $10 at a time. Gas just went up 2 cents a gallon here, which is a lot, Ms. Lamb said, to a man who watches his paycheck trickle much too fast into the tank of his pickup. People complain to her about hard times, low-paying jobs and high gas prices because her counter is a way station in this town of just over 2,000 people in northwest Florida. They blame the federal government in a vague, distrusting way, but even in an election year, a year when the nation will choose a new president, there is little talk of voting for change, or of voting at all. People here look at Al Gore and George W. Bush and see two men born to the country club, men whose family histories jingle with silver spoons. They appear, to people here, just the same. "I don't think they think about people like us, and if they do care, they're not going to do anything for us," said Ms. Lamb, 41, who has lived in Cross City since 1969. "Maybe, if they had ever lived in a two-bedroom trailer, it would be different." "I don't think either one of those men running for president has ever had to worry about where their next paychecks are coming from," said Ms. Lamb, who said she was registered to vote but cannot remember the last time that she did. "I don't think they ever had to throw watermelons around in a field." It is not just apathy, say Ms. Lamb and others here, that will keep people away from the polls on Election Day in Dixie County, a county with a tradition of low voter turnout, the lowest in Florida in 1998 and 1996. It is anger, over being ignored and, in some ways, left behind. Poorer people here never felt any connection with Republicans. But, as Mr. Gore has moved to the nation's political center, people like Aundray Dogain who work in low-paying jobs know that means they are being left behind. The disillusionment here with the national candidates runs so deep that though the roads are lined with political signs for local politicians, there is no sign of Mr. Bush or Mr. Gore in Dixie County. "They look the same to me," said Ms. Dogain, 31, who manages a shift at the McDonald's in Cross City. She says she believes her life will remain the same, no matter which political party wins. It always has. It was Mr. Gore, people here point out, who pushed so hard for the North American Free Trade Agreement, which, they say, has led to the closing of manufacturing plants around the country and sent jobs to Mexico. "Why vote? I don't want to waste my time," said Ms. Dogain, a single mother who must feed, clothe and care for three children on a paycheck that brings in little more than the minimum wage, which is $5.15 an hour. "I don't even pay attention to those two, and all my friends say the same thing. My life won't change." She does not want charity, she said, just a candidate who seems to be sincere when he talks about poor people. Bill Clinton promised poor people health insurance, people here in Dixie County point out, and a Republican-controlled Congress shot his plan down. It was the last time people here remember a candidate who at least tried to do anything that would help their lives. "I dream of having a bigger house, a better car, a piece of land, but I don't think politicians are going to help me get that," said Ms. Dogain, who owns her three-bedroom mobile home and drives a 1987 Dodge Caravan. She hears Al Gore talk about continuing the nation's prosperity and she cringes. She hears George W. Bush talk about how things could be done so much better, and she cringes again. She knows what the Republicans mean when they talk about good times, and she believes that it seldom includes a 31-year-old black woman who works in the heat and grease of a fast-food restaurant. "They use people like us to get votes, and they don't end up doing anything good for us," said Ms. Dogain, who said she had not voted in the past decade and would not vote on Nov. 7. It is not just this election that has people uninspired, if not angry. It is a series of elections. In 1998, when Mr. Bush's brother, Jeb, won the race for governor of Florida, only 31.9 percent of Dixie County's 9,898 registered voters went to the polls, compared with the state average of 49.5 percent. In 1996, when President Clinton won his second term, a surprising 48 percent of Dixie County voters turned out, but the county still had the lowest average turnout in a state in which 67.4 percent of voters turned out. "My vote won't help me, it won't help my family," said Tracy Hunt, 25, a manager at the Hardee's restaurant in Cross City. "It doesn't matter. That's the harsh reality." "They say they care," Mr. Hunt said. "This is just to get in. This time next year, it'll be a different ballgame." To Mr. Bush and Mr. Gore, he said, Dixie County is a "faraway land," of people who do not matter, and "too small of a town" to even worry about. Mr. Hunt's father is a foreman in a lumberyard and his mother owns a small crafts business. He is divorced, and had to move back in with his parents. He is training for a new job in computers. Almost everyone in Cross City talks about computers as if they are an employment promised land. The most angry and dejected people in Cross City are not people sitting around waiting for welfare. That is not the help they want. They want jobs. They want new plants. They say they want an old- fashioned politician who does not speak of the global economy as an excuse for the lack of jobs. Instead, they say they get politicians who lobby Congress for legislation to send jobs away. They are no longer even sure what they want from a political champion. They just know that they do not have one, and say they have given up on ever having one. "People here work hard," Ms. Lamb said. And while they survive, they seldom prosper. She and her husband, a construction worker, rent a house. They asked the landlord if they could rent to buy, and he said he would think about it. "It's old, but it's a good little house," she said. "I sure would like to have it." It is the real world that they live in, she says, a world that the presidential candidates have no connection with. "A lot of people don't care any more," Ms. Lamb said. "Life doesn't get any better. The politicians don't bring any industry. If you don't have the silver spoon in your mouth, you join the Army or you leave." "Yesterday, gas went up to $1.61 from 1.59. Those guys," she said of the candidates, "don't worry about things like that. But it's a lot." It is an ugly thought, she said, but it crosses her mind now and then. She thinks the candidates would be happier if people like her did not exist at all. "Then," she said, "they don't have us complaining." ---------------- From the Magazine, October 15, 2000 Where to Go When You're Broke For people untouched by the New Economy, the Old Economy pawnshop is their A.T.M. By BRENDAN I. KOERNER The shelves at Spino's Pawn Shop in Waterbury, Conn., brim with mismatched goods: stereos, vacuums, saxophones, crossbows, video games, yellowing packages of Krazy Glue. The brothers who run the place pay hard cash for what people drag in, though they draw the line at anything that's alive; a fisherman once tried to pawn a string of wriggling carp. The money that the Spinos shell out is technically called a loan -- the interest is about 15 percent, the item itself is the collateral. If the loan is not repaid within a month, the Spinos sell the merchandise for two or three times what they spent. It's a healthy business -- particularly in the winter, says Scott Spino, "when people are laid off and all the construction guys come in here with their tools" -- but that's not all it is. In a rusting postindustrial town like Waterbury, Spino's functions a bit like a cash machine for people with nothing in the bank. As good as times get, there are plenty of such folks to go around. Forty-seven million households in the United States have annual incomes below $35,000, and in the event of a layoff or a medical crisis, 40 percent of American families would run out of cash within three days. People like that, says Gene Spino, can't go to a bank. "Can you imagine? They would walk in there and say, 'I need $100.' And the bank would be, like, 'Security!' " So who are these people and what exactly do they need the money to cover? In a day at Spino's, 18 people came in the door to pawn one of their possessions. A handful agreed to discuss their finances. These are their stories. Matt Cianciolo received a $25 loan for his 13-inch Sony color TV. Cianciolo, 35, holds down two jobs, one at a plastics factory, the other managing a nearby apartment complex. When he needs additional money, he'll take on temporary handyman gigs. But Cianciolo recently splurged on a used 1991 Plymouth Acclaim, and the initial costs were more than he had planned for. "I put $1,500 down," he says. "With insurance and gas and all that, I needed some money to get me through the week." Though not a frequent pawner, he occasionally uses Spino's to scrape together a few extra bucks. When a foreman can't pay him at week's end, "he might give me some tools and say, 'Make a few dollars off this,' "says Cianciolo. "I'll come down here and try to turn over a drill, anything. I might get $10 or $15." _________________________________________________________________ Brendan I. Koerner is a Markle fellow at the New America Foundation. _________________________________________________________________ Cianciolo hoped to get a bit more for his TV, offering to throw in the antenna for another $5. But it's tough to resell antennas in a world of cable TV, so they aren't welcome at Spino's (neither are items like VCR's and Walkmans, which have small profit margins). Cianciolo walked away with his $25 on a Tuesday morning, confident that it would tide him over until his paycheck arrived on Friday. He wound up with cash to spare. The week's supply of cigarettes had already been paid for -- he buys his Newports by the carton -- so Cianciolo's sole expenses were gas and food. He put a measly $5 in the tank and made a grocery run for some bare-bones provisions: frozen dinners, a loaf of bread, a few bars of soap. When payday arrived at week's end, Cianciolo drove down to Spino's to reclaim his set for $30; he is one of the estimated 30 to 50 percent of customers who repay their loans. With his auto insurance taken care of through September, Cianciolo aims to avoid pawnshops for the foreseeable future. "At least, I hope to," he adds. T om Slekis received a $30 loan for two of his fishing poles. Medical problems have dogged Slekis since 1979, when a car accident left him paralyzed from the waist down. Since then, he claims, he has gone under the knife 52 times; the bulk of his days are spent shuttling to and from the hospital. A former substance-abuse counselor, the wheelchair-bound Slekis, 44, is currently too pain-ridden to work. "Man, this is the brokest I've been in five years," he grumbles. "My job in life right now is to stay healthy. That's it." Slekis was bracing for yet another operation -- the amputation of his left leg. With bills mounting and his cash flow near zero, he needed some quick dough to cover the basics. "I don't pawn," he insists. "Well, I used to, when I was drinking and drugging. But that was years ago." One of the fishing poles was a fancy model that Slekis claims is worth $100. When the Spinos offered him just $30 for the pair, he grudgingly accepted. "Hey! We're eating tonight!" he whooped to a friend, waving a 10 and a 20. He also tried to score a few extra bucks by pawning some tackle, but the shop declined. "Aw, come on," kidded Slekis, holding a Day-Glo orange lure up to his ear lobe. "They make great earrings." The cash went quickly. His gas-guzzling Oldsmobile chugged nearly $17. He plunked down $7.99 for the grocery-store special, a rotisserie chicken and a six-pack of Coca-Cola. Cigarettes nearly wiped out the remainder of the loan. "Man, I'll be back," Slekis says. "That's a $100 pole there. I'll never see another pole like that again." His short-term goal is modest: get out of the hospital, pick up his poles and go fishing for striped bass this fall in Long Island Sound. He has one month to come up with the $36 necessary to get the poles out of hock. Gene Spino is skeptical of Slekis's vows to return. "Everybody says they're going to buy it back," he says. "Half of them don't. You never see them again. But it doesn't matter to us." S haron Johnson received a $20 loan for two gold-plated bracelets and a set of silver earrings. With summer vacation drawing to a close, Johnson, a 19-year-old college sophomore, was looking to enjoy one last lark. She had copped tickets to a concert at the Meadows Music Theater in Hartford, featuring the bands Live and Counting Crows. The Dave Matthews Band was slated soon after, and Johnson hoped to scam tickets to that sold-out affair, too. She had waitressed all summer at a local watering hole, but the tips were lousy -- too many cheapskates drinking $1.75 bottles of Budweiser. The bulk of her earnings went toward clothes and clubbing in New Haven or Hartford. She needed something extra to finance her concert outing. "I got a ride up there," said Johnson, pointing to her beat-up Honda. "I just need gas and money for food. Burgers up there are pretty expensive." Then, coyly, she added, "I guess it wouldn't be so great if I said I was going to spend it on drugs, huh?" The jewelry was mostly junk, low-grade Home Shopping Network fare. The Spinos rejected a watch before settling on the three other pieces. When she demanded $20, they agreed. Sensing she had made a blunder, Johnson grimaced: "I should have asked for $30, huh?" As it turns out, the extra $10 wouldn't have helped much. A friend tracked down a set of Dave Matthews ducats, but they were $65 apiece. Johnson was forced to borrow yet again, this time from an acquaintance. Add in some $5 sandwiches and a tank of gas, and the romp was scarcely covered by her pawn. "Twenty dollars doesn't get you very far in this world," she says. Still, Johnson has no regrets about hocking the jewelry. "I never wore it," she says. "You saw that bracelet my grandmother gave me. It never even came out of the box." The loot, she adds, is Spino's to keep. In fact, she has already tossed her pawn ticket. ------------------ Meme 022: Midtrodden: Trailer Owners and Conseco Are Haunted by Risky Loans, 1.11.26 [Remember what I said about the midtrodden, that they are the Americans who are harmed by the cognitive revolution in the economy. I argued, in different memes, that the feminists and Marxists have won, but that the downtrodden (the bottom quintile) have not lost. Here's another piece about the fourth quintile. Nearly all trailer dwellers are White, though this article does not go into this aspect of the matter.] Trailer Owners and Conseco Are Haunted by Risky Loans NYT November 25, 2001 By ALEX BERENSON LAURENS, S.C. -- The trailer is white and narrow, a starter model with black shutters. It sits off a wooded road outside this rundown town, which missed most of the last decade's boom but is catching every bit of this year's bust. The trailer is deserted but not empty. Dirty pans fill the sink. Trash overflows a blue plastic bin. Tiny shoes, a broken stroller and a small book titled "God's Gift to Mothers" are strewn across the stained green carpet. A baby doll lies lost on the floor. The trailer was financed by Conseco (news/quote) in 1998 and repossessed by Conseco in 2001. This is how easy money looks, three years later. Most of America never noticed, but the 1990's were good times for trailer homes, a k a manufactured housing. From 1991 to 1998, annual sales of manufactured homes more than doubled, to 374,000 from 174,000. One company, one man and one accounting rule drove that growth. Green Tree Financial, a Minnesota lender, financed more than 40 percent of all manufactured homes sold in the United States during the industry's peak. Lawrence M. Coss ran Green Tree as chairman and chief executive, taking home $200 million in pay during the boom. The rule, a rarely used accounting convention called "gain on sale," encouraged Green Tree to make as many loans as possible and allowed it to report more than $2 billion in profits that never existed. To meet the surge in demand created by Green Tree, home manufacturers opened scores of factories. Thousands of dealers, who sold the homes, set up lots nationwide. In the South in particular, manufactured homes proliferated, and in South Carolina, the epicenter of the boom, they made up more than half of all new homes sold in 1997 and 1998. In their rush to lend, Green Tree and its rivals made loans to borrowers who had little chance of paying them back. Tens of thousands of those people have already defaulted and have been evicted. Conseco alone has repossessed 25,000 homes so far this year, after a record 28,466 in 2000. By the time the industry's hangover ends later this decade, hundreds of thousands more low- income borrowers will lose their homes. They will wind up with huge debts and ruined credit because their homes are worth far less than what they owe. Green Tree is now Conseco Finance, the lending arm of Conseco, the financial company based in Carmel, Ind. Mr. Coss, who did not return calls seeking comment, retired in 1998 and owns a ranch in River Falls, Wis. Gain-on- sale accounting has been relegated to the dustbin of finance. The manufactured housing industry, meanwhile, is foundering. Only about 180,000 new homes will be sold this year. Factories are closing as quickly as they opened during the fat years, and tens of thousands of jobs are gone. Dealers are shuttering, too. In South Carolina alone, the number has fallen to less than 400 from a peak of 620 in 1998. "Greed overcame logic," said Walter R. Young Jr., chairman of Champion Enterprises (news/quote), the largest maker of manufactured homes, a publicly traded company based in Auburn Hills, Mich. Builders and dealers share the blame for expanding too quickly, Mr. Young said, but without Green Tree and other finance companies, the boom would not have been possible. "You always have to follow the cash," he said. "Loose money fans it, and everything got carried away." The future of Conseco, which makes loans and sells insurance mainly to middle- and low-income consumers, is also in doubt. After buying Green Tree in 1998, the company went on its own binge under Stephen C. Hilbert, its well-paid chairman. Conseco's spree peaked in 1999, when it financed $6.3 billion in new manufactured homes, 41 percent of the national total. But facing mounting losses from bad loans and a plunging stock price, Conseco's board forced out Mr. Hilbert in April 2000 and soon replaced him with Gary C. Wendt, the former chairman of GE Capital. Mr. Hilbert did not return calls. This year, Conseco has cut back sharply on manufactured-home lending. But Conseco is still saddled with $26 billion in loans on trailer homes, including more than $20 billion from the days of Mr. Hilbert and Mr. Coss. Many top Wall Street investors, including Carl C. Icahn, the onetime corporate raider, have sold Conseco's stock short, betting that it will fall. Losses on the trailer loans, along with problems at Conseco's insurance business, will bankrupt the company by the middle of next year, the short-sellers say. "June of 2002 looks to be very hairy," said M. W. Montgomery of Rocker Partners, a hedge fund that has sold Conseco's shares short since the fall of 1999, when they traded above $20. "It's becoming clear to everybody that this game stops then, if not sooner." According to Conseco's own projections, it will produce only about $800 million in cash from its operations next year - yet it has $1.4 billion in debt and interest payments and dividends coming due. The bears say that the cash flow estimate is optimistic. Even if it proves accurate, Conseco, which already has more than $6 billion in debt and preferred stock, may have a hard time finding enough money to make up the difference. On Wednesday, Fitch, a bond rating agency, lowered its rating on Conseco Finance's debt to CCC, indicating "that default is a real possibility." In an interview on Tuesday, Mr. Wendt said the company could easily meet its debt payments next year, by selling assets if necessary. "These short-sellers have one thing in mind - the destruction of the company," Mr. Wendt said. "We have a company that employs 13,500 people, and we want to continue to have a company that employs 13,500 people." Mr. Wendt received a $45 million bonus and stock options for 10 million shares at $5.88 each when he joined Conseco in June 2000, and will receive 3.2 million shares if he remains chairman through June. Last week, to bolster its case, Conseco presented investors in New York with a four-hour discussion of the company's finance business, focusing on its manufactured-home loans, which make up 60 percent of the loans on the company's books. The company said it had toughened its standards for new loans and had increased its reserves to cover potential losses on defaults. Bruce Crittenden, chief executive of Conseco Finance, said the trailer home business was becoming more profitable. The interest rates that Conseco pays are falling, while the rates it charges borrowers have remained high, increasing the profit on each loan it makes. "I believe in our model," Mr. Crittenden said. But investors are unconvinced. Conseco's stock closed on Friday at $4.48. That is down 92 percent since Mr. Hilbert agreed to buy Green Tree in April 1998, costing the company's shareholders $18 billion. For much of the last decade, Green Tree appeared to be one of Wall Street's great growth stocks. Its profits jumped sixfold, to $301 million, from 1991 to 1997. Its stock soared thirtyfold. But Green Tree's profits were a mirage, made possible because of gain-on-sale accounting. Like many other banks and finance companies, Green Tree used a process called securitization to resell its home loans to outside investors. Green Tree grouped thousands of these small loans into a pool worth hundreds of millions of dollars. It then divided that pool into a series of bonds and sold them, promising to pay interest on the bonds from the interest it collected on the loans. Green Tree typically charged borrowers 12 percent to 13 percent interest and promised to pay its bondholders about 7 percent. The company, in the middle, made a profit on the difference. Trailer home borrowers, mostly near the bottom of the economic ladder, often default on their loans. It might seem odd that bond investors, who generally value safety, would buy bonds backed by such risky collateral as trailers. But in a securitization, losses from defaulted loans are not spread equally. Instead, the bonds are divided into "tranches," and one tranche must be repaid before payment on the next can begin. The bottom tranches are risky and pay higher interest, while the tranches that are repaid first are very safe. Securitization provided Green Tree with ready access to capital from the bond buyers, and that enabled it to finance as many loans as it wanted. At the same time, gain-on- sale accounting allowed Green Tree to record income from every loan that it made. Normally, banks record profits on loans only as they are repaid, whether they securitize the loans or hold them on their books. But when Green Tree finished a securitization, it calculated how much money it expected to make as the loans were paid back in the future. Then the company recorded that amount as profit, even though it would not be paid for many years. Essentially, Green Tree decreed that its loans would be profitable and put off worrying whether its forecasts had been right until later. Other financial companies that specialize in subprime lending also used such gain-on-sale accounting, but not to the extent that Green Tree did. The combination of gain-on-sale and securitization meant that as long as Green Tree could find more borrowers, it could report higher profits, said Mr. Crittenden, the president of Conseco Finance. "When you're running a gain-on- sale shop, it's based on volume," he said. Mr. Crittenden joined Green Tree at the end of 1995, as the company expanded into home equity and credit card loans. He took over manufactured-housing loans in January 1999, after Mr. Coss retired. In September 1999, in response to pressure from investors, Conseco stopped using gain-on-sale accounting, switching to the more traditional method of booking profits only as the company is repaid. Seeking new borrowers under Mr. Coss, Green Tree went to places like Pensacola, Fla., where it opened an office in 1995 to service trailer home dealers in southern Alabama. Employees had a difficult time finding enough loans to make, said Tammy Weakley, who worked as a loan processor in the Pensacola office from 1995 to 1999. To meet monthly targets set at Green Tree's headquarters, Ms. Weakley said the office would accept loans whose borrowers did not meet the company's credit criteria, especially near the end of each month. "There was pressure," Ms. Weakley said. "The whole office was pushed to the maximum." (Ms. Weakley and two other employees in Pensacola have sued Green Tree, asserting that they were sexually harassed by a manager there.) The loan situation was similar here in South Carolina, where dealers knew that Green Tree and other lenders would approve almost anyone who applied, according to dealers and people in the industry here. Many lenders made loans with as little as 5 percent down, say, $2,500 on a $50,000 home. Some financed loans with only $1,000 down. "It was easy," said G. Mitchell Gault, a dealer in Mauldin, S.C. "The lenders were greedy as hell." Mr. Gault said he thought that lenders "cared more about quotas than the quality of the loan." Dealers, who could make $10,000 or more in profit on a $50,000 home, were not shy about signing up borrowers. If a would-be buyer could not come up with a down payment, the dealer might tell him to bring in a used gun worth $200 and buy it for $2,000, according to dealers and people in the industry. That money would then become the down payment. "Some of these people didn't deserve to be a homeowner, and they were put in homes," Mr. Gault said. William Ryan, an analyst at Ventana Capital in New York who covers financial companies, said Green Tree cut loan standards beginning in 1995. It made bigger loans, allowed lower down payments and accepted buyers with spotty credit histories, he said. "These companies have a way of creating loan volume where none exists," Mr. Ryan said. Other lenders lowered their standards, too. But Green Tree expanded faster than any of them. In 1992, it lent $1.2 billion to 43,000 borrowers for manufactured homes, accounting for about one in five trailer loans made that year, according to Securities and Exchange Commission filings and industry statistics. In 1996, Green Tree lent $4.8 billion to 143,000 borrowers. Three years later, Green Tree, at that point owned by Conseco, made $6.6 billion in loans, including $300 million on homes it had already repossessed. Gain-on-sale accounting enabled Green Tree to book profits every time it securitized a basket of loans, and the company's earnings soared alongside its loans during the mid- 1990's. But those profits were not based on actual cash the company had taken in. They were an accounting fiction based on Green Tree's projections of the payments it would eventually receive, less its operating costs and its losses on repossessions. In 1997, the fiction began to unravel. In calculating its future profits on a loan, Green Tree needed to estimate two crucial variables: the odds that borrowers would default and the odds that they would refinance and pay off loans in advance. Either would make the loans less profitable. During Green Tree's expansion, short-sellers had argued that the company had underestimated the risks of prepayment and default. They were right. In November 1997, Green Tree began a long process of erasing most of the profits it had ever earned with a $190 million pretax write-off. A $200 million write-off followed in January 1998. "We think at this time our assumptions are appropriate," Dale Redman, Green Tree's chief financial officer, said at the time of the second write-off. Three months later, Green Tree sold itself to Conseco in a deal then valued at $7.6 billion in Conseco stock. Conseco's shares fell $8.63, to $49.13, after the deal was announced, as investors worried that Conseco did not understand the risks of buying Green Tree. During a conference call discussing the deal, Mr. Hilbert, Conseco's chairman, dismissed that possibility. "Wall Street sometimes takes a day or two to be fully enlightened," he said. The stock never regained its loss. CONSECO quickly discovered that many of Green Tree's borrowers could not repay their loans. In July 1998, the company took a $549 million pretax write- off on Green Tree, which was renamed Conseco Finance. Hoping to prove that the new acquisition could work, Conseco continued to use gain-on-sale accounting and actually increased the number of loans it made. But as the quality of the company's loans fell, borrowers defaulted even more quickly, forcing Conseco to write off profits almost as soon as it booked them. Even after Conseco cut back last year on lending, the losses continued. Write-offs became an annual event, totaling $554 million in 1999, $516 million in 2000 and $315 million so far this year. Between them, Green Tree and Conseco have written down Green Tree's pretax profits by $2.3 billion over the last four years. Add $500 million in other "special charges" related to Green Tree that Conseco has taken, and the write-downs wipe out all the pretax profits Green Tree and Conseco Finance earned over the last seven years. "It's amazing to me how the shareholders of these companies actually believe the earnings per share, and they don't understand how that's accounted for," said Mr. Montgomery of Rocker Partners. "The overwhelming majority of the income which is being booked is a definite maybe sometime." As the losses mounted in the first two years after the acquisition, Conseco's stock plunged almost 90 percent. On April 28, 2000, with the company's shares at $5.63, Mr. Hilbert quit. He received a $72 million severance package, including the right to use Conseco's private jet up to 20 times a year. All told, Mr. Hilbert's pay from 1993 to 2000 was $530 million. Mr. Coss did not do quite as well. His pay, tied to Green Tree's reported profits, totaled about $200 million from 1993 to 1998, including a $30 million severance package. If those write-offs seem ugly, the reality on the ground is worse. In their rush to win borrowers, Green Tree and other lenders began offering 30-year mortgages instead of the 15-year terms that had been standard at the beginning of the 1990's. By 1997, the average Green Tree loan had a term of about 25 years, up from 13 years in 1987. The longer mortgages lowered monthly payments slightly, enabling lenders to make more loans. But they greatly increased overall interest costs. On a typical $50,000 mortgage with a 13 percent interest rate, the monthly payment on a 15-year loan is $633, compared with $553 for a 30- year loan. But the longer loan costs a borrower an extra $85,000 in interest over the loan's life. In addition, the principal balance on a high-interest 30-year loan shrinks very slowly during the first few years. After five years of payments on a $50,000, 30-year mortgage at 13 percent interest, the borrower has paid more than $32,000 in interest but still owes $49,000 in principal. Yet unlike conventional houses, which often appreciate, manufactured homes quickly lose their value. After three years, the wholesale value of a manufactured home is about half its retail price. As a result, borrowers face a difficult squeeze. They are not building equity, and if they sell their homes, they will probably find that they receive less than the amount they owe on their loans. Mr. Gault, the dealer, said demand for new homes had collapsed partly because homeowners who would like to move to larger trailers could not. "They started going 30 years on these single-wide homes," he said. "Once you live in a home two or three or four or five years, you want to upgrade and you can't upgrade. You're upside-down in it big time." Because their homes are worth less than they owe, the owners have few options if they lose their jobs or face unexpected expenses, said Mark Tesh, credit counseling director for a nonprofit family counseling center in Greenville, S.C. "A lot of times," Mr. Tesh said, "those folks are better off just filing for bankruptcy, so they can just start fresh." He said his clients were often financially unsophisticated and focused only on their monthly payment, not the risks of signing a 30- year note on a wasting asset. "A lot of folks that get into the mobile home scenario, they get into it initially because it's more affordable," he said. "They honestly don't realize that a mobile home is going to depreciate. Most of them learn the hard way." Mr. Crittenden Conseco said the move to 30- year mortgages made sense because the quality of manufactured housing had improved in the last decade. Trailers and conventional houses now share many materials and construction techniques. "This asset has a 50-year life minimum," he said. "The manufacturers have done an outstanding job with the quality of these homes." Conseco, Mr. Crittenden said, also works closely with borrowers who face financial difficulty, including regularly granting loan extensions and sometimes even accepting reduced monthly payments. Tighter loan standards may also reduce defaults. Still, Conseco projects that it will eventually repossess about one in five of the new manufactured homes it finances. On loans made on repossessed homes, which are aimed at even less creditworthy borrowers and can carry interest rates of 18 percent, Conseco figures on default rates of 50 percent, Mr. Crittenden said. Those projections may comfort Wall Street, reducing investors' concerns that Conseco is underestimating its risks. But they offer little comfort for borrowers struggling to make their monthly payments. Bonnie and Mitchell Turner, who live near Laurens, have given up struggling. In August 1999, the Turners bought a repossessed double-wide trailer with financing from Conseco. They wound up with mortgage and insurance payments of $618 and additional lot rent of $250. The extra payments seemed manageable with Mrs. Turner working as a waitress and Mr. Turner as a carpenter. "I just wanted a house, my house," she said. "A place to retire in, hopefully." But within months, the furnace failed, costing $1,500 to repair. Now Mrs. Turner has lost her job, and Mr. Turner's monthly take-home pay has fallen to about $2,000. With four children, the family has food and clothing costs, car payments and electricity bills that total almost $1,500. Even with their old rent of $380, the Turners' finances would be stretched to the breaking point. "The $618 is killing us," Mrs. Turner said. "We just can't do it." The Turners, who stopped paying their mortgage in August, are waiting for Conseco to repossess their home. Mrs. Turner said she hopes the company won't foreclose until after Christmas. "If my hindsight was my foresight," she added, "I would never have purchased it at all." http://www.nytimes.com/2001/11/25/business/25GARY.htm [I am sending forth these memes, not because I agree wholeheartedly with them, but to infect your thinking. Ponder them and spread them.]