Thursday, May 27, 2004

No Slowing Seen In Housing Boom

Steady Sales, Rising Prices Forecast

By Sandra Fleishman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, May 27, 2004; Page E04

The U.S. housing market shows no sign of a nationwide bubble and should remain strong for the next decade even if interest rates rise somewhat, according to an analysis from leading industry economists released yesterday.

There's no slowdown in sight for housing demand, according to the group of five economists who collaborated on the first 10-year projection offered by the Homeownership Alliance, a Washington-based association of 18 national housing organizations.

Instead, the report compiled by Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, the Independent Community Bankers of America, the National Association of Home Builders and the National Association of Realtors offered the promise of a continuing boom driven by population growth, including immigration, and new jobs.

Among the 10-year predictions:

• Demand for new housing will remain steady at about 2 million units a year, with aging boomers, boomer babies and immigrants competing for places to live.

• The national homeownership rate will grow to as much as 72.4 percent from its 2003 record of more than 68 percent.

• Total home sales will average about 8.5 million per year, on par with recent record years.

• Home price increases should average 5 percent a year nationally through 2013, with price gains above 6 percent in areas where supply is tight, such as the Washington market.

"The American Dream is really alive and well, and over the next 10 years we see a very solid and bright future," said Paul Merski, chief economist for the Independent Community Bankers of America.

The rosy predictions came on the same day as a Commerce Department report that U.S. sales of new houses fell 11.8 percent in April, the biggest monthly drop in more than a decade. The government report raised some alarms yesterday that housing's golden glow over the past three years might be fading as mortgage rates climb and home prices soar.

But one of the economists who helped shape the 10-year alliance forecast downplayed the Commerce report, saying it offered a very limited picture of the market and reflected more that March's new-home sales numbers were boosted by good weather.

"The March bulge in home sales apparently was related to an unusual swing in weather conditions, and market fundamentals remain sound despite an increase in mortgage interest rates from their March lows," David F. Seiders, chief economist for the National Association of Home Builders, said in a press statement on the Commerce numbers. "We've been expecting sales to recede from the early-year pace, but we're forecasting an annual total of 1.113 million units, up about 2 percent from the record pace in 2003."

New-home sales in April dropped to a seasonally adjusted annualized rate of 1.093 million, from a record 1.239 million in March. Sales in the South, which includes the Washington area, declined the most, down 22 percent from March.

At the Homeownership Alliance conference, Seiders said there could be threats to the housing industry in the next 10 years if interest rates increase dramatically, a scenario he and his colleagues do not expect, or if Congress changes regulation of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, the two secondary mortgage market giants.

Seiders said interest rates were not factored into the alliance's 10-year forecast because "the most important factor [in housing growth] is population growth" and because the industry trusts that Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan "will be keeping the economy fairly close to potential growth and that the inflation side will not be allowed to go out of control."

The housing industry economists generally expect interest rates to stay below 7 percent this year and not reach 7.5 percent until 2006.

If rates were to move much higher, that could affect the decisions of people to buy or rent, but the overall demand for housing would not be affected, said David W. Berson, Fannie Mae's chief economist.

David A. Lereah, chief economist for the National Association of Realtors, said 36 metropolitan markets, including the Washington area, showed double-digit home price appreciation in the last quarter because of low inventory and high demand. Prices will not drop, said Lereah, unless "you have more supply than demand" and "a local concentrated loss of jobs."

Sunday, May 09, 2004

Just how unaffordable is the Bay State?

By Robert David Sullivan and Rachel Deyette Werkema, The Boston Globe

MOST BAY STATE FAMILIES long ago reconciled themselves to the idea that they'll never live in Boston's most famously posh suburbs -- places like Wellesley, Weston, and Duxbury. But the zone of communities whose homes are beyond the reach of all but the most affluent families has expanded with astonishing speed, spreading north and south to absorb historically middle-class towns such as Burlington and Canton. If this trend continues, it raises troubling questions about the future of homeownership for the middle class.

Just how much any particular buyer can afford to pay for a home depends on many factors: size of down payment, mortgage interest rates, as well as income. But many consumer finance organizations and real estate associations use a formula of 2.5 times household income as a rule of thumb for affordability. Apply even a slightly more generous standard, three times income, to the Massachusetts housing market and it's easy to see why the dream of homeownership is forcing middle-income families farther and farther from Boston.

These two maps compare the median sales price for single-family homes in each town to the state's median household income, the first in 1999 and the second in 2002. The median is the mid-point of a distribution, so half of all household incomes (and half of home sales prices) are above the median and half below; thus, the maps show how many multiples of a middle-class Massachusetts household's income it would take to pay for a home priced in the middle of those sold in each community that year. In 1999, the median household income in Massachusetts was $50,502; in 2002, $51,470.

In our maps, we put towns in the most affordable category if the median sales price was up to three times median household income, that is, a price of $151,506 in 1999 and $154,410 in 2002. The least affordable towns are those where the median sales price exceeded six times median income, or $303,012 in 1999, $308,820 in 2002.

By this measure, less and less of the state -- and virtually none of eastern Massachusetts -- is in the price range of middle-income Massachusetts households. In just three years, the number of communities in the most expensive category jumped from 43 to 106. While many of the newly pricey neighborhoods were in "suburban sprawl" territory, long-settled cities such as Medford, Newburyport, and Somerville also moved into the top category.

In that same period, 41 communities, including Clinton, Fitchburg, and Swansea, moved out of the most affordable category by one step (up to three-to-four times median), while 27, including Attleboro, Lunenburg, and Methuen, skipped ahead by two categories. Another four towns -- Berkley, Harwich, Mashpee, and Rehoboth, all in the southeastern part of the state -- jumped even further, landing somewhere between five and six times median income.

As of 2002, New Bedford was the only community east of Worcester where home prices were less than three times the state's median annual household income. Brockton, Lawrence, and Lowell were the only communities within Interstate 495 where a typical single-family home could be bought for less than four times the median income.

Of course, it's not impossible for a middle-class family to find an affordable home. Even in some of the most expensive communities, as many as half of the home sales do come in under $300,000 (though many of the towns in this category have median prices far above that). But because so much of the housing stock has become off-limits to middle-class families, particularly to first-time buyers, they must look for "bargains" in a wider and wider geographical area -- often adding to commuting costs and making it impossible to change residences without changing school districts. Home prices are rising because a minority of buyers are willing and able to pay them, but they are also driving the home-buying decisions of practically everyone else.

Friday, May 07, 2004

Housing Is Economic Foundation

by Broderick Perkins

Housing isn't just a roof over your head, equity money in the bank, and tax deductions -- though that's plenty -- it's also an economic cornerstone with benefits that go far beyond those enjoyed by the individual homeowner.

New-home construction, by itself, is a major part of the economy, but the housing industry as a whole (including expenditures on existing housing) contributes $218 billion to California's economy, supports almost 1 million jobs and accounts for approximately 10 percent of all statewide economic activity.

Also, every dollar invested in new housing activity generates almost two dollars in total economic activity, and the industry is a major force in every region of the state, according to "The Economic Benefits Of Housing In California," produced by the Sacramento Regional Research Institute (SRRI), a joint effort between California's Sacramento Area Commerce and Trade Organization and California State University-Sacramento.

This isn't the first time statistics show housing can be an economic linchpin.

The SRRI report updates the original "Economic Benefits of Housing" released in late 2002 and it comes on the heels of "Housing Supply and Affordability: Do Affordable Housing Mandates Work?" by the Reason Public Policy Institute, a Los Angeles-based public policy research firm.

Together, the reports reveal overwhelming evidence that California isn't priming the economic pump as well as it could.

"The report's calculations are based on the 188,000 housing starts recorded in 2003, but according to the state Department of Finance, the statewide annual housing need is far greater, about 230,000 homes and apartments each year," said California Building Industries Association president Sherman D. Harmer Jr., a San Diego home builder.

"If the industry were producing enough homes to meet the need, the economic impact for the state and for regional economies would be significantly greater," Harmer added.

The report examined the impact of new-home construction; the overall impact of the housing industry as a whole, including economic activity generated by existing homes; and the regional benefits in 25 of California's metropolitan areas.

It also tracked the growth of home building's impact on the economy from 2001 through 2003 and found that home building generated a total of $45.5 billion for California's economy in 2001, $51.67 billion in 2002, and $59.35 billion in 2003. Total employment generated by home building rose from 403,600 in 2001 to 456,600 in 2002 and to approximately 526,000 in 2003, the report found, even as employment roles dipped overall during California's technology down turn.

The figures include economic activity and employment directly related to building homes; indirect activity from businesses doing business with home builders such as suppliers, consultants, transportation firms, and financiers; and all the purchases and expenditures that the employees of these companies then are able to make.

When expenditures on existing housing and other related factors were considered, housing contributes $218 billion to the economy, 1 million jobs and 10 percent of economic activity statewide.

"This report should be required reading for every state legislator and every city council member and planning commissioner around California. Housing drives our state’s economy, and this report proves that point, but too many decision-makers haven't connected the dots yet. The sooner our state and local officials understand how critically important housing is, the better off California's economy and California's families will be," Harmer said.

Published: May 7, 2004

Saturday, May 01, 2004

There Goes the Neighborhood

There Goes the Neighborhood

Why home prices are about to plummet--and take the recovery with them.
By Benjamin Wallace-Wells
Washington Monthly

In Washington, where words are the currency, where imprecise verbs threaten the loss of a political career and misapplied nouns can doom a movement, there remain a few figures who get a general pass not just for a certain degree of verbal imprecision, but for a fairly deep-seated degree of intellectual wackiness, a penchant for regularly saying very odd things. Newt Gingrich is one of these public figures, Robert Byrd another; Helen Thomas has her moments, too.

You'll be sitting in the audience listening to a sensible speech by, say, Gingrich, and all of a sudden you get the notion that aliens have captured his brain. Befuddled, you'll turn to your friend next to you, the libertarian true-believer, and he'll shrug his shoulders and whisper back: "Oh, it's just Newt." And then, a few minutes later, the speaker's episode will subside, the aliens return the brain, and the speech continues on its before-we-were-so-rudely-interrupted track. No one says a word. The capital's press gives these folks a pass from its usual lawyerly scrutiny because they are regarded as sages who can be relied upon to speak some kind of unusual and valuable truth, whose occasional episodes of profound intellectual oddness are thought to stem from the same deep source as their general brilliance.

One of these spells flared up during the last week in February, when Greenspan recommended that the home-owning public take a good hard look at switching from fixed-rate mortgages, under whose terms payments stay the same no matter what interest rates do, to adjustable rate mortgages (ARMs), where payments fluctuate along with interest rates--which, right now, makes close to zero sense. Interest rates are lower than they've been in 30 years, and, with all economists predicting a general economic upturn, and Bush's budget deficit and the weak dollar sucking up capital, little doubt exists that interest rates must rise, in which case, switching from a fixed-rate to adjustable-rate mortgage would be pretty costly for any family naïve enough to take Greenspan at his word. The episode did not pass completely without critical notice. It was "the strangest bit of advice ever to be proffered by an American central banker," Jim Grant, publisher of Grant's Interest Rate Observer, told the San Francisco Chronicle. Then the press moved on: "Oh, it's just Greenspan."

But sometimes wacko ideas can betray deeper truths. It is tempting to ask what stake the chairman might have in trying to convince millions of people to do something so contrary to their own interest. One theory floated by Fed-watchers is that the chairman is trying to help out his classic institutional constituency, the big banks, which hold trillions of dollars in fixed-rate mortgage paper. There may be something to that theory, but there is almost certainly a deeper and more important motive behind this curious advice. Quite simply, Greenspan is trying to keep a wobbly and fragile recovery alive--and using mortgage refinancing to do it.

There are many strange things about the choppy recovery we're in, but among the most curious is that it is being fueled largely by consumer spending. Why consumers should continue to spend, and why they've done it throughout the recession, is not immediately obvious. After all, average income growth has been puny in the last few years. There's been a big falloff in jobs. Health care and tuition costs have only been going up. And the stock market has spent the last three years unsuccessfully huffing and puffing to get back to the level where it was in early 2001. Why have consumers been spending so much?

Economists have advanced two main reasons. One is that Americans have so lost their moorings that they've had few qualms about going deep into debt. That's certainly true. The average person's debt as a percentage of his income is now higher than it's ever been. But there's another reason, too: Americans have been using their homes as ATM machines, refinancing their mortgages in order to fund their spending. This, of course, makes sense. The one sector of the economy that has consistently swelled has been housing prices. This has intrigued and surprised many economists, because housing is supposed to operate in sync with the economy, expanding during flush times and contracting when things go poorly. But even in a down economy, prices have soared.

Because of these rising prices, people have felt that despite all the ups and downs in stocks and salaries, that their overall situation was okay. Homes are the biggest asset most families own, and their value has been rising nicely. For that reason, Americans have felt more comfortable buying big-ticket items, from SUVs to new computers to Disney World vacations. Much of that spending has gone right onto the VISA card. But that debt has been kept somewhat manageable by another factor in housing prices: mortgage refinancing.

With home prices rising and the Fed keeping rates low, a mortgage refinancing industry that barely existed 15 years ago exploded into one of the fastest growing sectors of the financial services industry. Last year, one-third of all homeowners used cash-out mortgages to refinance their homes, a rate roughly consistent over the past five years. Savvy investors, says Harvard economist William Apgar, are likely to have refinanced "two or three times in the last two years." Each time they do, they have either been able to lower their monthly payments, or walk away with a chunk of cash. And where does that extra cash go? The ubiquitous Ditech TV ads say it all: "I just refinanced my home and paid off my credit cards!" American homeowners have gained $1.6 trillion in cash from refinancing in the last five years, and those gains have flowed almost wholly into purchases of consumer goods. The resulting spending, says Wharton's Susan Wachter, is "propping up" the American economy.

Greenspan has played enabler to this boom. But with the Fed fund's rate at 1 percent, the chairman can't do much more to sustain it. Tens of millions of Americans have already refinanced their mortgages, and at current rates, can't be induced to do so again. This small window is closing, fast: For six months, refinancing has been tapering off, and economists expect it to narrow further--many economists have argued the gains from refinancing are likely to halve ths year. Moreover, as soon as interest rates rise (as Greenspan himself has said they will within the next year), virtually all refinancing will cease.

Greenspan's rather ham-handed effort to get them to go for ARMs, is a sign not of the chairman's own eccentricity or advanced age, but, instead, of the economy's current unsteadiness. Greenspan knows, perhaps better than anyone, that this economy is perched nervously on top of a wobbly, Dr. Seuss-like tower. Our recovery is propped up by consumer spending, which is in turn propped up by mortgage refinancing, and if that refinancing dries up before more props can be put in, the whole edifice could fall. "Since long-term interest rates cannot fall low enough to facilitate another wave of fixed-rate refinancings, he is trying to encourage homeowners to refinance one last time: fixed to ARM," Peter Schiff, president of Euro Pacific Capital in Los Angeles told the San Francisco Chronicle.

Let's assume for a moment that enough people get fooled, and the refinancing boom gets extended for another year. Then what? The real problem hits. Because if you think Greenspan's being cagey on refinancing, the truth he's really avoiding talking about is that we're in the midst of a huge housing bubble, on a scale only seen once before since the Depression. Worse, the inflated housing market is now in an historically unique position, as the motor of the rest of the economy. Within the next year or two, that bubble is likely to burst, and when it does, it very well may take the American economy down with it.

House bound

Whether or to what extent American home prices will plummet soon is open to some debate, but not much. Even the professionally optimistic housing economists employed by the real-estate industry are now admitting that the good times may be over: "What we would ask for is kind of a slow slowdown," Jeff Culbertson, president of Coldwell Banker-Northern California, told Knight Ridder at the beginning of March. Virtually every housing economist is concerned that prices may be unstable, and growing numbers are becoming outright alarmed. To understand why that is--and why warnings of a coming housing collapse haven't been front-page news--just look at the numbers.

Truth is, in most of the country there's no housing bubble. Perhaps the crucial ratio from which economists determine whether housing markets are out of whack is the ratio of home prices to annual income. In most of the country, it is modest, 2.4:1 in Wisconsin, 2.2:1 in Kentucky, 2.9:1 in Illinois.

Only in about 20 metro areas, mostly located in eight states, does the relationship of home price to income defy logic. The bad news is that those areas contain roughly half the housing wealth of the country. In California, the price of a home stands at 8.3 times the annual family income of its occupants; in Massachusetts, the ratio is 5.9:1; in Hawaii, a stunning, 10.1:1. To some extent, there are sound and basic economic reasons for this anomaly: supply and demand. Salaries in these areas have been going up faster than in the nation as a whole. The other is supply: These metro areas are "built out," with zoning ordinances that limit the ability of developers to add new homes. But at some point, incomes simply can't sustain the prices. That point has now been reached. In California, a middle-class family with two earners each making $50,000 a year now owns, on average, an $830,000 home. In the late 80s, the last time these eight states saw price-to-income ratios this high, the real estate market collapsed.

By other measures, too, the market is badly bloated. One index of housing inflation is the difference between house prices and rents. In a healthy market, driven by demand, rents and sale prices ought to track roughly together. But while sale prices have soared, rents have stayed flat; and in some of the most overheated markets, like San Francisco and Seattle, they have actually been declining. Such a gap, the economist and New York Times columnist Paul Krugman has written, suggests "that people are now buying houses for speculation rather than merely for shelter," evidence that he called a "compelling case" for a housing bubble. "Within the next year or so," The Economist argued in a May 2003 editorial, these regional "bubbles are likely to burst, leading to falls in average real home prices of 15-20 percent" across America. And, of course, in the most heated markets the drop is likely to be steeper yet.

When housing bubbles burst, they can hurt more than their sector of the economy. Studies have shown that they exercise twice the effect on consumer spending as comparable declines in stock prices. So, a 20 percent drop in housing prices would have the same, shriveling effect on the economy as a 40 percent crash in the stock market. When investors lose value in their houses, many of them pull money out of other investments, like stocks. Then, too, jobs in construction, real estate, and other fields that depend on new home sales die off.

What can Alan Greenspan or anyone else do about this? The answer is, not much. Prices are so stratospheric that even modest hikes in long-term interest rates could burst the bubble. And with federal deficits soaking up so much capital, interest rates are likely to rise as the economy heats up and demand for capital increases. Of course, Greenspan could argue for rescinding some of President Bush's tax cuts, which he's long defended, to bring down the deficit. But even that probably won't forestall a collapse in home prices.

Given the lateness of the hour, and the near-inevitability of the coming crash, there's really only one thing left for concerned citizens to do. Start assigning blame.

Blowing bubbles

Fortunately, the bad actors responsible for this manic inflation are pretty easy to recognize. They look remarkably like the ones who puffed up the tech bubble in the late 90s. In both cases, the unfettered optimism of the buying public was fueled by a brokerage industry almost wholly concerned with making a sale, independent analysts with an incentive to hype prices, and major accounting fraud.

What drives most appreciation in housing prices is the universal human desire to own a slightly larger and more expensive place than one can really afford; a desire restrained in normal times by the universal desire of those who lend money to get paid back.

Getting a home loan used to be a particularly nerve-wracking and unpleasant process. A stern loan officer behind a big mahogany desk would pore over your income and credit, suspiciously probing your portfolio for weaknesses. And sensibly enough: The bank that lent you the money would have to collect on the mortgage for the next 30 years and had to make sure you were really good for it. It hired independent appraisers to make sure the price was in line. This process was a little stingy, and meant some people on the low end of the income scale couldn't buy a home and many others got less home than they might have wanted, but the system usually kept prices in check.

The one exception to this general process was mortgages sold on the secondary market. In the 1930s, Congress created the Federal National Mortgage Corporation (Fannie Mae) to encourage banks to make loans to low-income Americans by agreeing to purchase those mortgages from the banks. In 1970, Congress created a second agency, the Federal Home Loan Mortgage Corporation (Freddie Mac), to do much the same thing. By the late 1980s, these two entities, which belong to the category known as Government Sponsored Entities (GSEs), were buying up and reselling 30 percent of new mortgages and packaging the mortgages to be sold as securities.

Fannie and Freddie's market share was limited by their ability to attract investment capital. But in 1989, Congress instituted some modest-seeming technical changes that made Freddie and Fannie much more attractive to investors, and able to draw much more capital. Under the new rules, for instance, they were allowed to customize securities at different levels of risk and return to meet more precisely the demands of different sectors of the capital market. Then, too, bank regulators let pension funds and mutual funds class Fannie's debt as low-risk. As a consequence, during the 1990s, investors practically threw money at Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, which became enormously, steadily profitable. The GSEs used the new capital to buy up every mortgage they could, and banks were only too happy to sell off the mortgage paper. The price cap on the mortgages Fannie and Freddie could insure was raised. As a result of all these changes, Fannie and Freddie went from buying mostly mortgages for low-end homes to those of the middle- and upper-middle class. And the share of the nation's conventional mortgage debt which they insure has swelled, to more than 70 percent today, double its share in 1990.

This shift has had two crucial, if under-appreciated, consequences. First, in little more than a decade, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac have gone from handling one trillion dollars in mortgages to four trillion, with virtually no changes in oversight. Second, their dominance of the mortgage market has profoundly undermined the discipline that once kept housing prices in check.

Once banks knew they could automatically hand off the mortgages they wrote to Fannie and Freddie with basically no risk, the old incentive system dissolved. "Banks and other mortgage lenders are not watching home prices carefully because they rarely hold onto the mortgage paper they create--they just sell it upstream to mortgage investors," John R. Talbott, a housing researcher at UCLA's Anderson School of Business, has argued. "It is a dangerous situation indeed when neither home buyers nor the institutions that finance them are concerned with the ultimate price being paid for the housing asset."

In most markets, buyers and sellers rely on independent experts to bring sanity to prices. In the stock markets during the 1990s, that role had traditionally been played by stock analysts, whose opinions were famously bought off by the investment banks they worked for. Something similar has happened to appraisers, the independent contractors banks hire to determine the worth of a home for the purposes of a mortgage loan. In a recent survey conducted by the October Research Group, more than half of all appraisers said that they personally felt pressured to overstate loans, and "nearly all" said they knew a colleague who had actually done so. The pressure to inflate, October's publisher Joe Casa said, "is much worse now than it's ever been." Industry analysts have estimated that between 15 and 30 percent of houses nationally are over-valued.

It's not just the discipline of banks that keeps people from buying more than they can afford, but also the buyers' own fear and guilt. But in an environment where home prices continue to spiral up, fear and guilt are replaced by a sense that you're a fool not to buy the most house you can possibly get away with.

A particular kind of speculative frenzy ensues, captured in a recent story in The Washington Post which detailed a new phenomenon: home buyers camping out overnight for the chance to be the first in the next morning's open house, ready to buy $700,000 houses in built-out, lush-lawned suburbs like Arlington. The phenomenon has created temporary, yuppie tent cities. The story's authors interviewed several buyers in the tented line who planned to sell their purchases back into a steadily rising market, and concluded, dryly: "There is an element of speculation to the lines."

What makes the current frenzy especially dangerous is that every relevant institution has an incentive to play along. Who, after all, is likely to say stop? Not the realtors. Not the banks, any longer. Not Fannie and Freddie or the private secondary-mortgage operators, who are turning vast profits on the backs of the bubble. Certainly not the Federal Reserve or the Treasury Department, while the economy depends on a sustained housing boom.

By 2000, some acute observers, like Jane D'Arista, a former chief economist for the House Financial Services committee and now a federal funds researcher with the Financial Markets Center, had begun to warn that the situation was untenable. By 2002, a few major players, like Steve Roach, Morgan Stanley's chief economist, had picked up on the concerns about a bubble and Fannie and Freddie's sprawling influence. But Greenspan, Treasury, and GSE officials, in interviews and testimony, denied that housing inflation posed a problem. And, sure enough, in the next year, not only did the bubble fail to deflate, but it also expanded--the housing sector posted its best year ever.

Then, last summer, came a warning no one should have missed: news of major accounting fraud at Freddie Mac. In stocks, corporate accounting scandals appeared after the market plunged, too late to signal danger. But the fraudulent accounting at Freddie Mac was, or should have been, a wake-up call, though the details of this scandal were distinctly different. Instead of hiding losses, as happened at Worldcom and Enron, the accountants at Freddie Mac had been hiding embarrassingly large profits. They feared that higher-than-expected returns might incite more risk-taking and a more volatile housing market than investors in Freddie Mac would like. A number of senior executives were canned, and spooked foreign investors sold off Freddie and Fannie's debt. A sense was emerging, among politicians as well as economists, that Fannie and Freddie were not just running amok, says Tom Stanton, an attorney specializing in government sponsored enterprises, but that they "were showing a combination of high leverage, fast growth, and weak oversight of just two companies that held or guaranteed several trillion dollars of mortgages between them and posed potential systemic risk to the American economy."

Testifying before Congress on July 16, Greenspan did not discuss any of this, nor did he mention a bubble. Instead, he chose to praise the economic benefits of low interest rates and home refinancing. The boom continued unabated. By October, homebuyers were able to refinance to a 30-year fixed-rate loan with a rate of just 4.99 percent.

Eleventh-hour warnings

Still, the accounting scandals, carrying with them a vague, unsavory whiff of Enron, made reforms in the housing market impossible to ignore. Even Franklin Raines, Fannie Mae's chairman, admitted that the GSEs needed to be reined in. In the fall, the House dipped its toes into the water, with a bill that established a single regulator in the Treasury Department with broader authority to make sure the GSEs had their finances in order. At the White House's behest, the Senate Banking Committee began hearings on the same issue in February. The goal of most of the debate in Congress has so far been how to ensure the GSEs financial viability; there has been very little talk about how to reduce their role in the housing markets.

That job fell to Greenspan: Finally, on Feb. 24, testifying before the Senate Banking Committee, he came clean about the risks of the housing market, in a speech reminiscent of his 1996 warning about "irrational exuberance" in the stock market. In his familiar, glum posture, his bald head slouching low over the table, he warned that the GSEs weren't just unstable, but also posed a "systemic risk" to the economy of the United States. He suggested debt caps, to reduce Fannie and Freddie's role in the market, and urged stricter regulation.

The chairman's proposals were both brave and right, the best plan for resolving the structural problems with GSEs that's been put forward yet. But given the political situation, his reforms won't be enacted anytime soon. The day after his testimony, his suggestions were brushed off by everyone from Fannie and Freddie's chief executives to Republicans and Democrats on the Hill. Oh, it's just Greenspan.

Both political parties have bought into the idea that a vast, unfettered Fannie and Freddie are good for the country, and have only amplified the GSEs' "American Dream" rhetoric. Republicans are still invested in the deregulation of Fannie and Freddie they helped engineer in the late 1980s. Democrats, generally the party of more regulation, have historically been Fannie and Freddie's best friends, and the GSEs' lush executive suites are packed with former Democratic staffers: Raines was Clinton's director of the Office of Management and Budget, and his predecessor, James A. Johnson, a longtime aide to Walter Mondale, is now leading John Kerry's search for a running mate. In the hearings on the Hill, neither Democrats nor Republicans have seemed favorably disposed to strict regulation of Fannie and Freddie, and American Banker has concluded that the GSEs' lobbying power is strong enough that no regulatory bill will pass without their okay.

Greenspan, of course, knows all this. He knows his reform initiatives stand little chance politically right now, and he knows that even if, miraculously, they were put into place, they likely won't keep the housing market from crashing. Why even bother to bring it up? Two reasons, say Fed-watchers. First, though he didn't explicitly warn against the housing bubble, Greenspan wants to be able to claim, after the bubble bursts, that he gave fair warning, even though these warnings came at the eleventh hour. But at a less cynical level, the chairman knows that in the American political process real reforms only get put into place after a crisis and not before, but that you stand a better chance of getting them if you publicize them early.

So, why then didn't he bring these issues up even earlier? The answer may be that he simply couldn't afford to--he was relying on a supercharged housing sector to get the economy as a whole through the recession. Indeed, he still is. On the very day that he suggested his reforms of the secondary market, he was trying to squeeze a little more juice out of refinancing with his bizarre advice to consumers about ARMs. And that, ultimately, is the ironic and uncomfortable position that this economy has forced Greenspan into. To get out of the recession, he had to rely on, stay mum about, and even encourage a housing bubble. Now, that very bubble may be the thing that destroys the recovery he has sought to create.