How to value toxic assets (part 4)

Okay.  First, a correction:  There is (of course) a market for CDOs and other such derivatives at the moment.  You can sell them if you want.  It’s just that the prices that buyers are willing to pay is below what the holders of CDOs are willing to accept.

So, here are a few thoughts on estimating the underlying, or “fair,” value of a CDO:

Method 1. Standard asset pricing considers an asset’s value to be the sum of the present discounted value of all future income that it generates.  We discount future income because:

  • Inflation will mean that the money will be worth less in the future, so in terms of purchasing power, we should discount it when thinking of it in today’s terms.
  • Even if there were no inflation, if we got the money today we could invest it elsewhere, so we need to discount future income to allow for the (lost) opportunity cost if current investment options generate a higher return than what the asset is giving us.
  • Even if there were no inflation and no opportunity cost, there is a risk that we won’t receive the future money.  This is the big one when it comes to valuing CDOs and the like.
  • Even if there’s no inflation, no opportunity cost and no risk of not being paid, a positive pure rate of time preference means that we’d still prefer to get our money today.

The discounting due to the risk of non-payment is difficult to quantify because of the opacity of CDOs.  The holders of CDOs don’t know exactly which mortgages are at the base of their particular derivative structure and even if they did, they don’t know the household income of each of those borrowers.  Originally, they simply trusted the ratings agencies, believing that something labeled “AAA” would miss payment with probability p%, something “AA” with probability q% and so on.  Now that the ratings handed out have been shown to be so wildly inappropriate, investors in CDOs are being forced to come up with new numbers.  This is where Knightian Uncertainty is coming into effect:  Since even the risk is uncertain, we are in the Rumsfeldian realm of unknown unknowns.

Of course we do know some things about the risk of non-payment.  It obviously rises as the amount of equity a homeowner has falls and rises especially quickly when they are underwater (a.k.a. have negative equity (a.k.a. they owe more than the property is worth)).  It also obviously rises if there have been a lot of people laid off from their jobs recently (remember that the owner of a CDO can’t see exactly who lies at the base of the structure, so they need to think about the probability that whoever it is just lost their job).

The first of those is the point behind this idea from Chris Carroll out of NYU:  perhaps the US Fed should simply offer insurance against falls in US house prices.

The second of those will be partially addressed in the future by this policy change announced recently by the Federal Housing Finance Agency:

[E]ffective with mortgage applications taken on or after Jan. 1, 2010, Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae are required to obtain loan-level identifiers for the loan originator, loan origination company, field appraiser and supervisory appraiser … With enactment of the S.A.F.E. Mortgage Licensing Act, identifiers will now be available for each individual loan originator.

“This represents a major industry change. Requiring identifiers allows the Enterprises to identify loan originators and appraisers at the loan-level, and to monitor performance and trends of their loans,” said Lockhart [, director of the FHFA].

It’s only for things bought by Fannie and Freddie and it’s only for future loans, but hopefully this will help eventually.

Method 2. The value of different assets will often necessarily covary.  As a absurdly simple example, the values of the AAA-rated and A-rated tranches of a CDO offering must provide upper and lower bounds on the value of the corresponding AA-rated tranche.  Statistical estimation techniques might therefore be used to infer an asset’s value.  This is the work of quantitative analysts, or “quants.”

Of course, this sort of analysis will suffer as the quality of the inputs falls, so if some CDOs have been valued by looking at other CDOs and none of them are currently trading (or the prices of those trades are different to the true values), then the value of this analysis correspondingly falls.

Method 3. Borrowing from Michael Pomerleano’s comment in rely to Christopher Carroll’s piece, one extreme method of valuing CDOs is to ask at what price a distressed debt (a.k.a. vulture) fund would be willing to buy them at with the intention of merging all the CDOs and other MBSs for a given mortgage pool so that they could then renegotiate the debt with the underlying borrowers (the people who took out the mortgages in the first place).  This is, in essense, a job of putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.  Gathering all the CDOs and other MBSs for a given pool of mortgage assets will take time.  Identifying precisely those mortgage assets will also take time.  There will be sizable legal costs.  Some holders of the lower-rated CDOs may also refuse to sell if they realise what’s happening, hoping to draw out some rent extraction from the fund.  The price that the vulture fund would offer on even the “highly” rated CDOs would therefore be very low in order to ensure that they made a profit.

It would appear that banks and other holders of CDOs and the like are using some combination of methods one and two to value their assets, while the bid-prices being offered by buyers are being set by the logic of something like method three.  Presumably then, if we knew the banks’ private valuations, we might regard the difference between them and the market prices as the value of the uncertainty.

Other posts in this series:  1, 2, 3, [4], 5, 6.

One of the challenges in negotiation for Israel/Palestine

There’s a perennial idea of proposing Northern Ireland as a model of how progress might be achieved in the fighting between Israelis and Palestinians.  After reading this recent posting by Megan McArdle, one of the difficulties in such an idea becomes plain.

In Northern Ireland, both sides had moral, if not logistical, support from larger powers that were themselves allies.  So while the nationalists found it difficult to trust the British government, they would generally trust the US government, who in turn trusted the British government, while the same chain applied in reverse for the loyalists.

By contrast, while Israel receives moral and logistical support from the USA, none of America’s close allies really comes close to giving the Palestinian cause at large, let alone Hamas in particular, the sort of tacit support that America gave the Irish nationalists.

How to value toxic assets

There should really be a question mark at the end of that title.  As far as I can tell, no-one really knows.

I mentioned yesterday that the US government has just given a guarantee to Bank of America against losses in a collection of CDOs and other derrivatives that BofA and the US government agreed were currently worth US$81 billion (the headline guarantee is for $118 billion, but $37 billion of that is cash assets that are unlikely to lose value).

Last November the US government did the same thing for Citigroup, but the numbers there were much larger:  US$306 billion.

The deal with Bank of America is a better one because the $81 billion of toxic assets had to be bundled with $37 billion of cash that will almost certainly create a (small) profit to partially offset any losses.

Nevertheless there is a general question of how they arrived at those numbers given that the market for those assets has dried up:  nobody is buying or selling them, so there aren’t any market prices to use.

The problem is hardly unique to America.  From today’s FT:

[M]inisters and regulators are examining loans already on banks’ balance sheets, which are becoming more impaired as the economy deteriorates. Concern about the eventual size of losses on them is one reason British banks have recently reined in lending.

Final decisions are not expected imminently from the Treasury. But Mr Brown has spoken recently of the problem of “toxic assets” on balance sheets, raising speculation that a “bad bank” solution will be adopted.

The prime minister has also said Britain is looking at different models. These include schemes whereby the government buys up bad assets in return for cash or government bonds; and schemes where banks keep the assets on their balance sheets but the government insures them against loss. The latter method was adopted by the US government this week to shore up Bank of America.

The Bank of England is moving towards the idea of a so-called bad bank, since private sales of bank assets are proving difficult or impossible. But it raises difficult questions: how should assets be valued; should gilts be issued for the purchases; or should money be created.

Mr Darling also notes that a US toxic asset relief scheme proved difficult to launch because of banks’ refusal to sell assets at a price ­acceptable to the government. Offering insurance against future losses on bad assets could prove more attractive.

“The other problem is that the banks haven’t asked us to do this yet,” said one government official. “We would be asking the banks to give us a load of crap and they’d say to us: ‘What are you going to pay us then?’”

The credit crisis will not end until we know which banks are solvent and which are not, and we won’t know that until we know the value of those CDOs.  Despite the fact that they can’t sell them, banks are loath to write them off completely.  Also from the FT today:

With speculation growing that the government will be forced to stage another bank rescue, the prime minister told the Financial Times he had been urging the banks for almost a year to write down their bad assets. “One of the necessary elements for the next stage is for people to have a clear understanding that bad assets have been written off,” he said.

Speaking amid mounting market concerns that banks face further heavy losses, Mr Brown said: “We have got to be clear that where we have got clearly bad assets, I expect them to be dealt with.”

Is it just me, or do you get impression that we’re watching a very expensive game of chicken here?

Money multipliers and financial globalisation

Important: Much of this post is mistaken (i.e. wrong).  It’s perfectly possible for America to have an M1 money multiplier of less than one even if they were an entirely closed economy.  My apologies.  I guess that’s what I get for clicking on “Publish” at one in the morning.  A more sensible post should be forthcoming soon.  I’m leaving this here, with all its mistakes, for the sake of completeness and so that people can compare it to my proper post whenever I get around to it.

Update: You can (finally) see the improved post here.  You’ll probably still want to refer back to this one for the graphs.

Via Greg Mankiw, I see that in the USA the M1 money multiplier has just fallen below one:

M1 Money Multiplier (USA, Accessed:  7 Jan 2009)
M1 Money Multiplier (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)

At the time of writing, the latest figure (for 17 December 2008) was 0.954.  That’s fascinating, because it should be impossible.  As far as I can tell, it has been made possible by the wonders of financial globalisation and was triggered by a decision the US Federal Reserve made at the start of October 2008.  More importantly, it means that America is paying to recapitalise some banks in other countries and while that will help them in the long run, it might be exacerbating the recessions in those countries in the short run.

Money is a strange thing.  One might think it would be easy to define (and hence, to count), but there is substantial disagreement of what qualifies as money and every central bank has their own set of definitions.  In America the definitions are (loosely):

  • M0 (the monetary base) = Physical currency in circulation + reserves held at the Federal Reserve
  • M1 = Physical currency in circulation + deposit (e.g. checking) accounts at regular banks
  • M2 = M1 + savings accounts

They aren’t entirely correct (e.g. M1 also includes travelers cheques, M2 also includes time/term deposits, etc.), but they’ll do for the moment [you can see a variety of countries’ definitions on Wikipedia].

The M1 Money Multiplier is the ratio of M1 to M0.  That is, M1 / M0.

In the normal course of events, regular banks’ reserves at the central bank are only a small fraction of the deposits they hold.  The reason is simple:  The central bank doesn’t pay interest on reserves, so they’d much rather invest (i.e. lend) the money elsewhere.  As a result, they only keep in reserve the minimum that they’re required to by law.

We therefore often think of M1 as being defined as:  M1 = M0 + deposits not held in reserve.

You can hopefully see why it should seem impossible for the M1 money multiplier to fall below 1.  M1 / M0 = (M0 + non-reserve deposits) / M0 = 1 + (non-reserve deposits / M0).  Since the non-reserve deposits are always positive, the ratio should always be greater than one.  So why isn’t it?

Step 1 in understanding why is this press release from the Federal Reserve dated 6 October 2008.  Effective from 1 October 2008, the Fed started paying interest on both required and excess reserves that regular banks (what the Fed calls “depository institutions”) held with it.  The interest payments for required reserves do not matter here, since banks had to keep that money with the Fed anyway.  But by also paying interest on excess reserves, the Fed put a floor under the rate of return that banks demanded from their regular investments (i.e. loans).

The interest rate paid on excess returns has been altered a number of times (see the press releases on 22 Oct, 5 Nov and 16 Dec), but the key point is this:  Suppose that the Fed will pay x% on excess reserves.  That is a risk-free x% available to banks if they want it, while normal investments all involve some degree of risk.  US depository institutions suddenly had a direct incentive to back out of any investment that had a risk-adjusted rate of return less than x% and to put the money into reserve instead, and boy did they jump at the chance.  Excess reserves have leapt tremendously:

Excess Reserves of Depository Institutions (USA, Accessed: 7 January 2009)
Excess Reserves of Depository Institutions (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)

Corresponding, the monetary base (M0) has soared:

Adjusted Monetary Base (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)
Adjusted Monetary Base (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)

If we think of M1 as being M1 = M0 + non-reserve deposits, then we would have expected M1 to increase by similar amounts (a little under US$800 billion).  In reality, it’s only risen by US$200 billion or so:

M1 Money Supply (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)
M1 Money Stock (USA, Accessed: 7 Jan 2009)

So where have the other US$600 billion come from?  Other countries.

Remember that the real definition of M1 is M1 = Physical currency in circulation + deposit accounts.  The Federal Reserve, when calculating M1, only looks at deposits in America.

By contrast, the definition of the monetary base is M0 = Physical currency in circulation + reserves held at Federal Reserve.  The Fed knows that those reserves came from American depository institutions, but it has no idea where they got it from.

Consider Citibank.  It collects deposits from all over the world, but for simplicity, imagine that it only collects them in America and Britain.  Citibank-UK will naturally keep a fraction of British deposits in reserve with the Bank of England (the British central bank), but it is free to invest the remainder wherever it likes, including overseas.  Since it also has an arm in America that is registered as a depository institution, putting that money in reserve at the Federal Reserve is an option.

That means that, once again, if Citibank-UK can’t get a risk-adjusted rate of return in Britain that is greater than the interest rate the Fed is paying on excess reserves, it will exchange the British pounds for US dollars and put the money in reserve at the Fed.  The only difference is that the risk will now involve the possibility of exchange-rate fluctuations.

It’s not just US-based banks with a presence in other countries, though.  Any non-American bank that has a branch registered as a depository institution in America (e.g. the British banking giant, HSBC) has the option of changing their money into US dollars and putting them in reserve at the Fed.

So what does all of that mean?  I see two implications:

  1. Large non-American banks that have American subsidiaries are enjoying the free money that the Federal Reserve is handing out.  By contrast, smaller non-American banks that do not have American subsidiaries are not able to access the Federal Reserve system and so are forced to find other investments.
  2. The US$600+ billion of foreign money currently parked in reserve at the Fed had to come out of the countries of origin, meaning that it is no longer there to stimulate their economies.  By starting to pay interest on excess reserves, the US Federal Reserve effectively imposed an interest rate increase on other countries.

On the topic of US politics …

There’s a perennial question thrown around by Australian and British politics-watchers (and, no-doubt, by people in lots of other countries too, but I’ve only lived in Australia and Britain):  Why do American elections focus so much on the individual and so little on the proposed policies of the individual?  Why do the American people seem to choose a president on the basis of their leadership skills or their membership of some racial, sexual, social or economic group, while in other Western nations, although the parties are divided to varying degrees by class, the debate and the talking points picked up by the media are mostly matters of policy?

An easy response is to focus on the American executive/legislative divide, but that carries no water for me.  Americans seem to also pick their federal representatives and senators in the same way as they do their president.

The best that I can come up with is to look at differences in political engagement brought about by differences in scale and political integration.  The USA is much bigger (by population) and much less centralised than Australia or Britain.  As a result, the average US citizen is more removed from Washington D.C. than the average Briton is from Whitehall or the average Australian from Canberra.  The greater population hurts engagement by making the individual that much less significant on the national stage – a scaled-up equivalent of Dunbar’s number, if you will.  The decentralisation (greater federalism) serves to focus attention more on the lower levels of government.  The two effects, I believe, reinforce each other.

Americans are great lovers of democracy at levels that we in Australia and Britain might consider ludicrously minuscule and at that level there is real fire in the debates over specific policies.  Individual counties vote on whether to raise local sales tax by 1% in order to increase funding to local public schools.  Elections to school boards decide what gets taught in those schools.

That decentralisation is a deliberate feature of the US political system, explicitly enshrined in the tenth amendment to their constitution.  But when so many matters of policy are decided at the county or state level, all that is left at the federal level are matters of foreign policy and national identity.  It seems no surprise, then, that Americans see the ideal qualities of a president being strength and an ability to “unite the country.”

The Archbishop of Canterbury: mischaracterised, but still off the rails

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, has drawn a storm of criticism ( BBC, Times, Guardian, Independent, Telegraph) by calling for a “plural jurisdiction” that allows for Islamic law to be recognised in Britain.

It seems unavoidable and, as a matter of fact, certain conditions of sharia are already recognised in our society and under our law, so it is not as if we are bringing in an alien and rival system. We already have in this country a number of situations in which the internal law of religious communities is recognised by the law of the land as justifying conscientious objections in certain circumstances.

There is a place for finding what would be a constructive accommodation with some aspects of Muslim law as we already do with aspects of other kinds of religious law.

That principle that there is only one law for everybody is an important pillar of our social identity as a Western democracy. But I think it is a misunderstanding to suppose that people don’t have other affiliations, other loyalties which shape and dictate how they behave in society and that the law needs to take some account of that.

As I understand it, under English (and, I’m guessing, Australian) law, there is already the following arrangement:

In the event of a civil dispute, if both parties independently agree to it, that dispute can be heard in arbitration by somebody (or a group of people) separate from the courts and the decision of that arbitration will be binding under the law. There are nevertheless legal limits as to what the arbitration may declare.

As a first example, this practice is widely used in investment law, both domestic and international.

As a second example, it would be available if a tenant is complaining that their landlord hasn’t fixed the heating.

At present, there is a Jewish version of this set up in Britain. There is nothing to stop a Muslim equivalent being set up, if it hasn’t already.

The key point is that the arbitration can not proceed unless both parties agree beforehand to take part and abide by the ruling. If either one does not, then it goes before the regular courts.

Where the archbishop has gone off the rails, in my opinion, is that he seems to be calling for an entirely extra-judicial set-up; a competing system of justice that is parallel to (not a component of) the general law of the state.  That is simply wrong.

The collapse of a monopoly

As I previously mentioned, I got an iPhone for christmas.  In the UK, like the USA, Apple arranged an exclusive deal with one mobile provider, in this case O2.  The cheapest plan that O2 offered was for £35/month, which included the remarkably low 200 minutes and 200 texts per month, but did also allow for unlimited internet usage when using the O2 network rather than a local 802.11 network.

Perhaps because of the increasing availability of iPhone substitutes, perhaps because of the increasing numbers of jail-broken iPhones that can be used on other networks or perhaps because they know that the new v1.1.3. of the iPhone firmware has already been jailbroken and that when combined with the upcoming release of the iPhone SDK, it’ll stay jailbroken, O2 has recently realised that their time of being a true monopolist has ended.   How do I know this?  Because this week I received the following text message from O2:

We’re really pleased to tell you that we are upgrading your £35 iPhone tariff in Feb so you will benefit by mid March at the latest.

The new tariff will take your minutes from 200 to 600 and your texts from 200 to 500.  Plus you’ll continue to receive the same unlimited UK data allowing you to surf the internet on your iPhone.

Better still, you don’t have to do a thing to get them.  We’ll text you to let you know when your new tariff is live.

Simply tap the link to find out more, including details on all our new iPhone tariffs and to see the new tariff terms & conditions.

http://iphone.o2.co.uk/35

Which, as a tariff, is much closer to their competitors without the iPhone.  For example, Vodafone’s £35/month plan charges £1 for the first 15MB of internet each day and £2 for each additional MB and includes your choice of:

  • 500 minutes of talk and unlimited texts
  • 750 minutes of talk and 100 texts, or
  • 500 minutes of talk and 500 texts with £52.50 knocked off the 18-month bill.

They’ve only dropped down to the usual category of monopolistic competition (they still have pricing power, which they use to implement second-degree price discrimination), but O2’s time of being a complete monopolist has come to an end.

John Pilger versus “the great game”

John Pilger (biography on Wikipedia) has a new piece out in the New Statesman, “The ‘good war’ is a bad war.” This is the central part of his essay:

The truth about the “good war” is to be found in compelling evidence that the 2001 invasion, widely supported in the west as a justifiable response to the 11 September attacks, was actually planned two months prior to 9/11 and that the most pressing problem for Washington was not the Taliban’s links with Osama Bin Laden, but the prospect of the Taliban mullahs losing control of Afghanistan to less reliable mujahedin factions, led by warlords who had been funded and armed by the CIA to fight America’s proxy war against the Soviet occupiers in the 1980s. Known as the Northern Alliance, these mujahedin had been largely a creation of Washington, which believed the “jihadi card” could be used to bring down the Soviet Union. The Taliban were a product of this and, during the Clinton years, they were admired for their “discipline”. Or, as the Wall Street Journal put it, “[the Taliban] are the players most capable of achieving peace in Afghanistan at this moment in history”.

The “moment in history” was a secret memorandum of understanding the mullahs had signed with the Clinton administration on the pipeline deal. However, by the late 1990s, the Northern Alliance had encroached further and further on territory controlled by the Taliban, whom, as a result, were deemed in Washington to lack the “stability” required of such an important client. It was the consistency of this client relationship that had been a prerequisite of US support, regardless of the Taliban’s aversion to human rights. (Asked about this, a state department briefer had predicted that “the Taliban will develop like the Saudis did”, with a pro-American economy, no democracy and “lots of sharia law”, which meant the legalised persecution of women. “We can live with that,” he said.)

By early 2001, convinced it was the presence of Osama Bin Laden that was souring their relationship with Washington, the Taliban tried to get rid of him. Under a deal negotiated by the leaders of Pakistan’s two Islamic parties, Bin Laden was to be held under house arrest in Peshawar. A tribunal of clerics would then hear evidence against him and decide whether to try him or hand him over to the Americans. Whether or not this would have happened, Pakistan’s Pervez Musharraf vetoed the plan. According to the then Pakistani foreign minister, Niaz Naik, a senior US diplomat told him on 21 July 2001 that it had been decided to dispense with the Taliban “under a carpet of bombs”.

That is fascinating stuff. I am glad that people like Pilger exist as journalists because he really does push to uncover the truth. Any lie by any government is shameful. Nevertheless, while I am happy to accept the facts that Pilger presents as true, it’s difficult to read this article and to know what he actually wants other than to continue his vociferous criticism of Western foreign policy and that of the United States in particular.

On the one hand, he highlights above some of the awful aspects of an Afghanistan ruled (let’s not say governed) by the Taliban: no democracy, no freedom of religion, little (if any) freedom of speech, the utter subjugation of women, an economy based on the extraction and capture of wealth. On the other hand, he later speaks of the …

… historic ban on opium production that the Taliban regime had achieved. A UN official in Kabul described the ban to me as “a modern miracle”. The miracle was quickly rescinded. As a reward for supporting the Karzai “democracy”, the Americans allowed Northern Alliance warlords to replant the country’s entire opium crop in 2002. Twenty-eight out of the 32 provinces instantly went under cultivation.

But he doesn’t bother noting that the Taliban were only able to enforce their ban by killing anyone who violated it. I’m pretty sure that Pilger opposes the death penalty. I’m absolutely certain that he opposes it when it’s instigated without any recourse to defence in a fair trial.

I agree entirely with Pilger that the main priorities of the U.S. in looking at other countries have been political stability and economic liberalism, with the rule of law being a distant third and anything else almost entirely off the radar. I likewise agree that this is principally because these represent minimum conditions for the inevitably large U.S. companies to do business in those countries. I say “inevitably” because small U.S. companies are not in a position to invest internationally. Pilger views this as a modern form of imperialism. It’s a tempting position, but I tend to think of it more as the U.S. looking out for it’s own and leaving other countries to sort out their own particular rights and values. It is not non-interventionism, but a sort of ideally-minimal-but-occasionally-dramatic-interventionism.

I would understand if Pilger thought that the West ought to promote the good things it has aspired to itself: women’s rights, religious freedom, the welfare state and so forth. But Pilger is apparantly against humanitarian intervention, which he describes as the work of the ascendant, “narcissistic, war-loving wing” of liberalism, so I am again left confused as to what he wants the West to actually do. Does he want complete isolation?

Let me put it this way: Zimbabwe is in a terrible state. From once being described as the “bread-basket of Africa,” it is now the basket-case of the continent. It’s inflation is so high as to become unmeasurable. A third of it’s population has fled the country. It has no democracy. The opposition, when they attempt to rally, is beaten. For it’s part, the West has imposed sanctions, but China has happily handed truckloads of cash to Mugabe’s regime in exchange for Zimbabwe’s natural resources. What does John Pilger think the foreign policy of the U.S.A., the U.K. and the rest of the West ought to be towards Zimbabwe?

The exponential rise of bureaucracy

Bureaucracy has been getting worse for years. Bigger, more complex, more self-referential, self-justifying, self-absorbed. More impenetrable. The language of bureaucracy has been changing as some sort of linguistic mirror of the organisation itself. It has happened in the public service at all three levels and in the private sector. It has happened in every industry. Why? My current thoughts, in three slightly overlapping points:

Point 1) The distribution of demand across skills and abilities has been changing. As we’ve moved away from agriculture, through manufacturing and towards services and office work, the need for administrative, bureaucratic tasks has increased.

Point 2) The distribution of task-related ability across the population has not changed, or at least has not changed much. There might be more people going to university, but there are limits to how much education can enhance a person’s innate ability.

Point 3) (a) A high-ability person will get more done than a low-ability person, irrespective of their coworkers.

Point 3) (b) The productivity of a person is influenced by the ability of their co-workers, so that high-ability coworkers will raise your productivity and low-ability coworkers will lower your productivity.

Point 3) (c) There is an optimal size to a team. Even if everyone is of equal ability, per-person productivity will (initially) rise with the size of the team, peak, and then start to fall.

Points 1 and 2 mean that the need for bureaucratic work is increasing, but the number of people needed to do that work is increasing faster because the ability of the marginal (new) bureaucrat is less than the average ability of the existing bureaucratic workforce. Point 3 means that the gap between these two growth rates increases as the demand for bureaucratic work increases. As an illustration, I imagine the demand for bureaucratic tasks increasing linearly, but the size of the bureaucracy (and the inner complexity of it) needed to provide this service increasing exponentially.

How do we fight this? I see three ways:

a) Try harder to shift the distribution of ability over the population. The Aust/UK governments are aware of this, but have unfortunately settled for simply lowering the bar for getting into university. A generous commentator might acknowledge that they had the best intentions at heart, but the end result is one set of numbers going up, the value of those numbers going down and the problem remaining the same. Seriously working to address the problem via this tack — if it can be done from this angle at all — could only be done over a timeframe of 20+ years.

b) Work to slow (or, ideally, reverse) the increasing demand for bureaucratic work in the first place. Cut red tape. Stop trying to watch, record, register and regulate everything. Remove overlap.

c) Decrease bureaucratic team sizes. Make them specialise. Specifically link bureaucratic teams to the end-consumers that they are nominally serving.