The Position of the Chancellor of the Exchequer in the Money Market.
Nothing can be truer in theory than the economical principle that
banking is a trade and only a trade, and nothing can be more surely
established by a larger experience than that a Government which
interferes with any trade injures that trade. The best thing
undeniably that a Government can do with the Money Market is to let
it take care of itself.
But a Government can only carry out this principle universally if it
observe one condition: it must keep its own money. The Government is
necessarily at times possessed of large sums in cash. It is by far
the richest corporation in the country; its annual revenue payable
in money far surpasses that of any other body or person. And if it
begins to deposit this immense income as it accrues at any bank, at
once it becomes interested in the welfare of that bank. It cannot
pay the interest on its debt if that bank cannot produce the public
deposits when that interest becomes due; it cannot pay its salaries,
and defray its miscellaneous expenses, if that bank fail at any
time. A modern Government is like a very rich man with very great
debts which he cannot well pay; its credit is necessary to its
prosperity, almost to its existence, and if its banker fail when one
of its debts becomes due its difficulty is intense.
Another banker, it will be said, may take up the Government account.
He may advance, as is so often done in other bank failures, what the
Government needs for the moment in order to secure the Government
account in future. But the imperfection of this remedy is that it
fails in the very worst case. In a panic, and at a general collapse
of credit, no such banker will probably be found. The old banker who
possesses the Government deposit cannot repay it, and no banker not
having that deposit will, at a bad crisis, be able to find the
5,000,000 L. or 6,000,000 L. which the quarter day of a Government
such as ours requires. If a finance Minister, having entrusted his
money to a bank, begins to act strictly, and say he will in all
cases let the Money Market take care of itself, the reply is that in
one case the Money Market will take care of him too, and he will be
insolvent.
In the infancy of Banking it is probably much better that a
Government should as a rule keep its own money. If there are not
Banks in which it can place secure reliance, it should not seem to
rely upon them. Still less should it give peculiar favour to any
one, and by entrusting it with the Government account secure to it a
mischievous supremacy above all other banks. The skill of a
financier in such an age is to equalise the receipt of taxation, and
the outgoing of expenditure; it should be a principal care with him
to make sure that more should not be locked up at a particular
moment in the Government coffers than is usually locked up there. If
the amount of dead capital so buried in the Treasury does not at any
time much exceed the common average, the evil so caused is
inconsiderable: it is only the loss of interest on a certain sum of
money, which would not be much of a burden on the whole nation; the
additional taxation it would cause would be inconsiderable. Such an
evil is nothing in comparison with that of losing the money
necessary for inevitable expence by entrusting it to a bad Bank, or
that of recovering this money by identifying the national credit
with the bad Bank and so propping it up and perpetuating it. So long
as the security of the Money Market is not entirely to be relied on,
the Government of a country had much better leave it to itself and
keep its own money. If the banks are bad, they will certainly
continue bad and will probably become worse if the Government
sustains and encourages them. The cardinal maxim is, that any aid to
a present bad Bank is the surest mode of preventing the
establishment of a future good Bank.
When the trade of Banking began to be better understood, when the
Banking system was thoroughly secure, the Government might begin to
lend gradually; especially to lend the unusually large sums which
even under the most equable system of finance will at times
accumulate in the public exchequer.
Under a natural system of banking it would have every facility.
Where there were many banks keeping their own reserve, and each most
anxious to keep a sufficient reserve, because its own life and
credit depended on it, the risk of the Government in keeping a
banker would be reduced to a minimum. It would have the choice of
many bankers, and would not be restricted to any one.
Its course would be very simple, and be analogous to that of other
public bodies in the country. The Metropolitan Board of Works, which
collects a great revenue in London, has an account at the London and
Westminster Bank, for which that bank makes a deposit of Consols as
a security. The Chancellor of the Exchequer would have no difficulty
in getting such security either. If, as is likely, his account would
be thought to be larger than any single bank ought to be entrusted
with, the public deposits might be divided between several. Each
would give security, and the whole public money would be safe. If at
any time the floating money in the hands of Government were
exceptionally large, he might require augmented security to be
lodged, and he might obtain an interest. He would be a lender of
such magnitude and so much influence, that he might command his own
terms. He might get his account kept safe if anyone could.
If, on the other hand, the Chancellor of the Exchequer were a
borrower, as at times he is, he would have every facility in
obtaining what he wanted. The credit of the English Government is so
good that he could borrow better than anyone else in the world. He
would have greater facility, indeed, than now, for, except with the
leave of Parliament, the Chancellor of the Exchequer cannot borrow
by our present laws in the open market. He can only borrow from the
Bank of England on what are called 'deficiency bills.' In a natural
system, he would borrow of any one out of many competing banks,
selecting the one that would lend cheapest; but under our present
artificial system, he is confined to a single bank, which can fix
its own charge.
If contrary to expectation a collapse occurred, the Government might
withdraw, as the American Government actually has withdrawn, its
balance from the bankers. It might give its aid, lend Exchequer
bills, or otherwise pledge its credit for the moment, but when the
exigency was passed it might let the offending banks suffer. There
would be a penalty for their misconduct. New and better banks, who
might take warning from that misconduct, would arise. As in all
natural trades, what is old and, rotten would perish, what is new
and good would replace it. And till the new banks had proved, by
good conduct, their fitness for State confidence, the State need not
give it. The Government could use its favour as a bounty on prudence,
and the withdrawal of that favour as a punishment for culpable
folly.
Under a good system of banking, a great collapse, except from
rebellion or invasion, would probably not happen. A large number of
banks, each feeling that their credit was at stake in keeping a good
reserve, probably would keep one; if any one did not, it would be
criticised constantly, and would soon lose its standing, and in the
end disappear. And such banks would meet an incipient panic freely,
and generously; they would advance out of their reserve boldly and
largely, for each individual bank would fear suspicion, and know
that at such periods it must 'show strength,' if at such times it
wishes to be thought to have strength. Such a system reduces to a
minimum the risk that is caused by the deposit. If the national
money can safely be deposited in banks in any way, this is the way
to make it safe.
But this system is nearly the opposite to that which the law and
circumstances have created for us in England. The English
Government, far from keeping cash from the money market till the
position of that market was reasonably secure, at a very early
moment, and while credit of all kinds was most insecure, for its own
interests entered into the Money Market. In order to effect loans
better, it gave the custody and profit of its own money (along with
other privileges) to a single bank, and therefore practically and in
fact it is identified with the Bank of this hour. It cannot let the
money market take care of itself because it has deposited much money
in that market, and it cannot pay its way if it loses that money.
Nor would any English statesman propose to 'wind up' the Bank of
England. A theorist might put such a suggestion on paper, but no
responsible government would think of it. At the worst crisis and in
the worst misconduct of the Bank, no such plea has been thought of:
in 1825 when its till was empty, in 1837 when it had to ask aid from
the Bank of France, no such idea was suggested. By irresistible
tradition the English Government was obliged to deposit its money in
the money market and to deposit with this particular Bank.
And this system has plain and grave evils.
1st. Because being created by state aid, it is more likely than a
natural system to require state help.
2ndly. Because, being a one-reserve system, it reduces the spare
cash of the Money Market to a smaller amount than any other system,
and so makes that market more delicate. There being a less hoard to
meet liabilities, any error in the management of that reserve has a
proportionately greater effect.
3rdly. Because, our one reserve is, by the necessity of its nature,
given over to one board of directors, and we are therefore dependent
on the wisdom of that one only, and cannot, as in most trades,
strike an average of the wisdom and the folly, the discretion and
the indiscretion, of many competitors.
Lastly. Because that board of directors is, like every other board,
pressed on by its shareholders to make a high dividend, and
therefore to keep a small reserve, whereas the public interest
imperatively requires that they shall keep a large one.
These four evils were inseparable from the system, but there is
besides an additional and accidental evil. The English Government
not only created this singular system, but it proceeded to impair
it, and demoralise all the public opinion respecting it. For more
than a century after its creation (notwithstanding occasional
errors) the Bank of England, in the main, acted with judgment and
with caution. Its business was but small as we should now reckon,
but for the most part it conducted that business with prudence and
discretion. In 1696, it had been involved in the most serious
difficulties, and had been obliged to refuse to pay some of its
notes. For a long period it was in wholesome dread of public
opinion, and the necessity of retaining public confidence made it
cautious. But the English Government removed that necessity. In
1797, Mr. Pitt feared that he might not be able to obtain sufficient
species for foreign payments, in consequence of the low state of the
Bank reserve, and he therefore required the Bank not to pay in cash.
He removed the preservative apprehension which is the best security
of all Banks.
For this reason the period under which the Bank of England did not
pay gold for its notes--the period from 1797 to 1819--is always called
the period of the Bank restriction. As the Bank during that period
did not perform, and was not compelled by law to perform, its
contract of paying its notes in cash, it might apparently have been
well called the period of Bank license. But the word 'restriction'
was quite right, and was the only proper word as a description of,
the policy of 1797. Mr. Pitt did not say that the Bank of England
need not pay its notes in specie; he 'restricted' them from doing
so; he said that they must not.
In consequence, from 1797 to 1844 (when a new era begins), there
never was a proper caution on the part of the Bank directors. At
heart they considered that the Bank of England had a kind of charmed
life, and that it was above the ordinary banking anxiety to pay its
way. And this feeling was very natural. A bank of issue, which need
not pay its notes in cash, has a charmed life; it can lend what it
wishes, and issue what it likes, with no fear of harm to itself, and
with no substantial check but its own inclination. For nearly a
quarter of a century, the Bank of England was such a bank, for all
that time it could not be in any danger. And naturally the public
mind was demoralised also. Since 1797, the public have always
expected the Government to help the Bank if necessary. I cannot
fully discuss the suspensions of the Act of 1844 in 1847, 1857, and
1866; but indisputably one of their effects is to make people think
that Government will always help the Bank if the Bank is in
extremity. And this is the sort of anticipation which tends to
justify itself, and to cause what it expects.
On the whole, therefore, the position of the Chancellor of the
Exchequer in our Money Market is that of one who deposits largely in
it, who created it, and who demoralised it. He cannot, therefore,
banish it from his thoughts, or decline responsibility for it. He
must arrange his finances so as not to intensify panics, but to
mitigate them. He must aid the Bank of England in the discharge of
its duties; he must not impede or prevent it.
His aid may be most efficient. He is, on finance, the natural
exponent of the public opinion of England. And it is by that opinion
that we wish the Bank of England to be guided. Under a natural
system of banking we should have relied on self-interest, but the
State prevented that; we now rely on opinion instead; the public
approval is a reward, its disapproval a severe penalty, on the Bank
directors; and of these it is most important that the finance
minister should be a sound and felicitous exponent.