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Contents

Introducing Wiley Investment Classics

Publisher’s Note

Foreword

Capital Ideas

Against The Gods

The Power of Gold

Capital Ideas Evolving

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc., 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, (978) 750-8400, fax (978) 646-8600, or on the Web at www.copyright.com. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 111 River Street, Hoboken, NJ 07030, (201) 748-6011, fax (201) 748-6008, or online at http://www.wiley.com/go/permissions.

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There are certain books that have redefined the way we see the worlds of finance and investing - books that deserve a place on every investor’s shelf. Wiley Investment Classics will introduce you to these memorable books, which are just as relevant and vital today as when they were first published. Open a Wiley Investment Classic and rediscover the proven strategies, market philosophies, and definitive techniques that continue to stand the test of time.

Only Yesterday: An Informal History of the 1920’s

Frederick Lewis Allen

Lombard Street: A Description of the Money Market

Walter Bagehot

The Go-Go Years: The Drama and Crashing Finale of Wall Street’s Bullish 60s

John Brooks

Fifty Years in Wall Street

Henry Clews

Value Averaging: The Safe and Easy Strategy for Higher Investment Returns

Michael E. Edleson

Common Stocks and Uncommon Profits and Other Writings

Philip A. Fisher

Paths to Wealth Through Common Stocks

Philip A. Fisher

Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds by Charles Mackay and Confusion de Confusiónes by Joseph de la Vega

Martin S. Fridson, Ed.

Where the Money Grows and Anatomy of the Bubble

Garet Garrett

The Stock Market Barometer

William Peter Hamilton

Manias, Panics, and Crashes: A History of Financial Crises

Charles P. Kindleberger and Robert Aliber

Reminiscences of a Stock Operator

Edwin Lefèvre

The Battle for Investment Survival

Gerald M. Loeb

A Fool and His Money: The Odyssey of an Average Investor

John Rothchild

The Common Sense of Money and Investments

Merryle Stanley Rukeyser

Where are the Customers’ Yachts? or A Good Hard Look at Wall Street

Fred Schwed, Jr.

The Alchemy of Finance

George Soros

The Aggressive Conservative Investor

Martin J. Whitman and Martin Shubik

Supermoney

Adam Smith

Peter Bernstein shaped and defined modern investment management. A successful investment manager, author of three bestselling books, and founder of The Journal of Portfolio Management, Peter perhaps understood and communicated more about investing than anyone of his generation.

We believe Peter’s books will stand the test of time and will serve to enlighten future generations of readers. To that end, we present this collection of Peter’s four most important books: Capital Ideas, Against the Gods, The Power of Gold, and Capital Ideas Evolving.

As Paul Volcker wrote in the foreword to The Power of Gold, “Peter Bernstein was an anomaly in the modern world of investment, a man with a deep understanding of finance in all its up-to-date mathematical and theoretical manifestations, but also a student of history.” His profound understanding of financial theory and financial history—along with his gift of narrative—explain the unique and enduring appeal of Peter’s books.

Capital Ideas, published in 1992, traces the development of modern finance theory from the theoretical work of academics to the real-world innovations of the practitioners on Wall Street. The sequel, Capital Ideas Evolving, published in 2007, chronicles the implementation of financial theory to practice after the 1990s, profiling institutions and individuals who led the way on Wall Street during that era.

Against the Gods explains how the concept of risk evolved through history, from ancient times to today’s complex financial markets. Very much a history of ideas, the book describes the work of revolutionary thinkers John von Neumann, Isaac Newton, and Fischer Black, and many more. But Bernstein shows, despite the advances in thought, how irrationality still tends to dominate human decision- making in the face of uncertainty.

The Power of Gold explains the historical fascination of gold, its use as a monetary instrument, and how gold has shaped human history. Dismissed by John Maynard Keynes as a “barbaric relic,” Bernstein’s explanation of how gold satisfies a yearning for solidity and stability hints that gold’s role in history might not quite yet be extinguished.

Peter Bernstein may well be the pre-eminent financial historian of our time. We hope this collection will provide readers with an appreciation of the depth and variety of Peter’s work and broaden their knowledge of the historical origins of modern finance.

Those fortunate enough to own these volumes know that Peter Bernstein was a truly remarkable writer. Consider: Peter decided to write about the history of the mathematics of risk and uncertainty, its intellectual roots, and its implications for markets and for modern life. With that description, who could have predicted that Against the Gods would reside, for months, on multiple bestseller lists, all over the world? He chose to write about the intellectual foundations of neoclassical financial thought, and the pioneers who laid those foundations. The result? Another bestseller: Capital Ideas. He decided—as a Keynesian, no less—to write about the history of gold as a currency, as a store of value, as a safe haven, and as a means of displaying wealth. Yet another bestseller: The Power of Gold.

How many serious practitioners or finance academics do not have one or more of these books on their shelves? I suspect very few. Whether one reads them for the business of asset management or for the academic pursuit of a deeper understanding of the capital markets, these are true classics.

For many of us, Peter Bernstein was an influential mentor, a friend, a colleague and—for those of us fortunate enough to know him well—a true mensch. With an incisive intellect, keen wit, deep empathy for others, and a deep commitment to ethics—doing well by doing good—he reveled in life and in learning. His facility with the written and spoken word was both remarkable and utterly unsurprising. In the dark recession days of 1974, he founded and, for many years, edited the Journal of Portfolio Management, one of the most respected journals spanning the chasm between the academic and practitioner communities.

I had the good fortune of working with Peter on two journal articles. Because of his involvement, I still consider them my two best works, with fourteen years between them.

In 1986, we shared a concern that the pension community was too concerned about the wrong measure of risk—the volatility of pension assets—and too little concerned about the right measure—the economic mismatch between assets and liabilities. We began collaborating on a paper, which ultimately appeared in the Harvard Business Review, “The Right Way to Manage your Pension Fund,” in early 1988. (The title was selected by HBR, not by us. Too arrogant to our tastes!) During our collaboration, I enjoyed his bluntness; I knew I was learning at the feet of a master.

Then, in 2000, we were concerned that people were forecasting future returns by extrapolating the recently spectacular past, with potentially disastrous consequences. We explored this concern, and wrote “What Risk Premium is ’Normal’?,” which appeared in the Financial Analysts Journal in early 2002.

On receiving the first draft of “The Right Way,” he phoned me (this was before email), to say that I’d written a “turgid, challenging” first draft, with some “carefully hidden gems,” which he intended to bring forward in a total rewrite. Far from being offended, I was thrilled!

During the rewriting process with Peter, I learned of his passion for “which hunts”—seeking stilted text, where that would serve as a more conversational alternative to which—and for “sanit-ize-ing” the text—replacing almost all ize words, purging strategize (which, given his view that the word is an abomination, I was pleased he never found in my text), replacing utilize with use, and so forth. Peter generally favored using shorter, less stilted, words—replacing methodology with method, paradigm with pattern or norm.

His pet peeve was the passive voice: Any time a shorter word might suffice, a preference was exhibited by Peter, favoring the paradigm in which the preferred methodology was for the shorter word to be utilized. Or as Peter would rewrite it: Peter always preferred the active voice and the shorter word.

In short, Peter’s writing is magical, a joy to read. A history of the theoretical foundations of modern finance that reads as effortlessly and joyfully as a Grisham thriller? You bet!

We all have learned about Bernoulli numbers. In Against the Gods, Peter reminds us that Bernoulli was a human being:

Jacob was . . . an acclaimed genius in mathematics, engineering and astronomy. The Victorian statistician Francis Galton describes him as having “a bilious and melancholic temperament . . . sure but slow.” His relationship with his father was so poor that he took as his motto Invito patre sidera verso: “I am among the stars in spite of my father.” Galton did not limit his caustic observations to Jacob. . . . he depicts [the family] in his book . . . as “mostly quarrelsome and jealous.”

In a few short words, we learn a great deal about Bernoulli the man . . . and Galton!

Blaise Pascal, of Pascal’s Triangle fame, revolutionized probability theory in collaboration with his friend, Pierre de Fermat (the famous Fermat’s Last Theorem was finally proved in 1995, 358 years after Fermat claimed to have found a proof, for which there was not enough room in the margin). From Against the Gods, we learn that—apart from being one of the most astonishing mathematical geniuses of all time—Pascal was an entrepreneur and a party animal! In his early fifties,

Pascal underwent some sort of mystical experience. He sewed a description of the event into his coat, so that he could wear it next to his heart, claiming “Renunciation, total and sweet.” He abandoned mathematics and physics, swore off high living, dropped his old friends, sold all his possessions, except for his religious books, and . . . took up residence in the monastery of Port-Royal in Paris.

In Capital Ideas, we learn of the pioneering ideas of Bachelier, Black, Fama, Leland, Markowitz, Miller, Modigliani, Rosenberg, Rubenstein, Samuelson, Scholes, Sharpe, Treynor, and Tobin, to name only a few. And, we are introduced to each of them, as human beings. The story behind the book’s very peculiar photo of Eugene Fama went to the grave with Peter, unless some of his friends—in whom he cheerfully confided the secret—choose to spill the beans.

In The Power of Gold, Peter takes us through “the history of an obsession.” For those who wonder at the challenges of maintaining the purchasing power of the dollar, the yen, the euro, the pound, and the yuan, we learn that

Constantine, who reigned from 306 to 337 . . . immediately set out to improve the acceptability and respectability of the Byzantine currency by issuing a new gold coin called the gold solidus, which later became known as the bezant (it weighed 4.55 grams and was 98 percent pure). The bezant continued in production, with unchanging weight and purity, for about seven hundred years, long after Rome had fallen to the barbarians.

accepted everywhere from end to end of the earth. It is admired by all men and in all kingdoms, because no kingdom has a currency that can be compared to it.

After the bezant’s run of nearly 900 years as the world’s best-respected currency, we learn:

[N]o hegemony in history has lasted forever. After Constantinople fell to the Crusaders in 1204, the bezant began to lose its purity to debasement and, as a result, its wide acceptability.

So much for the challenges of reining in inflation during a typical business cycle!

These illustrative passages illustrate Peter Bernstein’s art. His genius was not in his historical knowledge, which was vast, but in his ability to bring history to life. We gain an awareness of history, if we know the dates, places, facts, and events. It takes mastery to plumb the personalities and motivations that create those events, at those dates, in those places and given those facts. In so doing, Peter brings the past to an immediate and powerful relevance to our current lives.

In the last three years of his life, Peter felt that finance theory was evolving so quickly (with some of its core principles under assault) that he decided to write Capital Ideas Evolving, which was published barely a month before he died. Far from being a new edition of Capital Ideas, it’s a whole new book. Peter takes a careful look at the new directions of finance theory and the implications of the various attacks on its foundations. What about behavioral finance? Aren’t we communal pack animals, craving the love and respect of others? Does this affect the behavior of markets? Of course! What about hidden risks, the kind we can’t measure? How does all of this translate into investable strategies and products? The title of his closing chapter says it all: “Nothing Stands Still.”

In my recollections of Peter, two things stand out: his curiosity and his humanity. His curiosity was boundless. .He always wanted to learn more about finance and markets, to be sure. But, he also had a vast curiosity and knowledge about politics, psychology, the physical sciences, and the arts. His humanity drove his thinking and his writings, time and again. In each issue of the Journal of Portfolio Management, he wrote an introductory page or two—in effect, an “Editor’s Corner”—offering his thoughts on something that mattered to him. During the 1982 recession, he wrote a wonderful short piece advising the affluent of Wall Street to consider their ability—through their work and their personal choices—to ease the suffering of others caught in the recession’s grip. Did any finance journal offer the same insight in the global crisis of 1988-90? Not to my knowledge.

If you are buying these books to read them for the first time, good for you! You have many hours of joyous learning ahead of you. If you already own some of these books, and want this compendium to complete the set, or to give you a go-to reference for the future, take the time to read whatever is new to you. Peter’s gift to you, and to all of us, is his lucid and entertaining way of distilling simplicity out of complexity, and his way of sharing some of his abiding joy at the wonders of learning.

Peter was, for much of the past century, the Demosthenes of the finance world. Those of us who knew and loved Peter shall always remember and miss him. With these books, you can come to know him, too.

Published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., Hoboken, New Jersey. Published simultaneously in Canada.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior written permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc., 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 10923, (978) 750–8400, fax (978) 750–4470, or on the web at www.copyright.com. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Permissions Department, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 111 River Street. Hoboken, NJ 07030, (201) 748–6011, fax (201) 748–6008, or online at http://www.wiley.com/go/permissions.

For general information on our other products and services or for technical support, please contact our Customer Care Department within the United States at (800) 762–2974, outside the United States at (317) 572–3993 or fax (317) 572–4002.

What is history all about if not the exquisite delight of knowing the details and not only the abstract patterns?

All authors who undertake projects like this need help from others. I have been unusually fortunate in having had such generous and essential assistance from the people named below.

The book could never have taken shape without the participation of the people whose work it describes: Fischer Black, Eugene Fama, William Fouse, Hayne Leland, Harry Markowitz, John McQuown, Robert C. Merton, Merton Miller, Franco Modigliani, Barr Rosenberg, Mark Rubinstein, Paul Samuelson, Myron Scholes, William Sharpe, James Tobin, Jack Treynor, and James Vertin. Each of them spent long periods of time with me in interviews, and most of them engaged in voluminous correspondence and telephone conversations as well. All of them read drafts of the chapters in which their work is discussed and gave me important criticisms and suggestions that enrich virtually every page of the book. Most of them also provided their photographs.

Each in his own way contributed to my understanding of the subject matter well beyond the chapters that were their immediate concern. In this regard, I hope I may be forgiven if I single out Paul Samuelson, my friend of more than fifty years. He served uncomplainingly as my mentor, inspiration, and inexhaustible research associate from the very beginning; the accumulation of handwritten wisdom that passed from his fax to my fax is a treasure in itself. And my thanks as well to Janice Murray, who made our communication so easy and rewarding.

I have also benefited from those who were kind enough to undertake the onerous task of reading the complete manuscript. Michael Granito, Bernard Obletz, Roger Kennedy, Patricia Carry Stewart, and Byron Wien were especially helpful in providing me with many suggestions, which I have made every effort to put to good use. Richard Brealey’s bounteous contribution to both the theoretical and the historical aspects of the story was invaluable. Robert Heilbroner, my oldest friend and sometime co-author, combined painstaking editorial advice with broad critical observations whose influence is apparent throughout.

I am deeply indebted to Peter Brodsky, Michael Keran, William Lee, and Lawrence Seltzer, whose encouragement after their careful reading of early drafts gave me the impetus to carry on when the going was hardest.

Many other people helped in supplying or guiding me to research material without which the project would have run into sand early in the game. I am especially grateful to John Brush, Richard Cowles, Charles D’Ambrosio, David Durand, Charles Ellis, Martin Fridson, Charles Henry, Judith Kimball, the staff of the Marlboro College Library in Marlboro, VT, Donald McCloskey, Joseph Murphy, M. F. M. Osborne, Earle Partridge, Edward Renshaw, Andrew Roy, Richard Russell, Hugh Weed, and Richard West.

I owe a special debt to Martin Leibowitz. The original plan of the book included a long section on the bond market, where Leibowitz has been the acknowledged leader as both theoretician and practitioner. When considerations of space and format led me to restrict the subject matter to the equity markets, I was unable to use the help that he had so generously provided. I hope to make up for that omission on an early occasion.

I have had enough experience as both writer and editor to know an editors’ editor when I meet one. Peter Dougherty is it. His participation in this endeavor was my great good fortune. He enlarged the scope of the book beyond my own more limited concepts. He sharpened its literary quality even as he deepened the quality of the content. Without his understanding of the subject and knowledge of the personalities, I would all too frequently have ended up in the wilderness. I have never known a more merciless taskmaster who could at the same time make the job great fun.

The convention on these occasions is for the author to describe his or her spouse as a nonentity whose main contribution is to keep the author isolated from the clutter of daily life. The good spouse arranges matters so that the author’s wondrous flights of creativity can soar to heights reserved only to those human beings blessed by such a self-effacing life’s companion.

When I acknowledge that my Barbara performed to perfection the dreary job of isolating me from the clutter of daily life, I only hint at her contribution. She provided light when there was dark and brought me back to reality when I succumbed to euphoria. But even that was not all. Her most valuable gift was to be in the foreground rather than the background. She has been a close collaborator in every phase of the project, from the interviews to the planning and writing of each chapter. Every part of the book has been improved by her participation.

Even with all this help and support, I am certain that flaws remain. They comprise the only part of the book that is my responsibility alone.

Americans have always welcomed change. Revolution is our birthright. We take it as a sign of our youth that we prefer the new to the old. We are fascinated by innovation and lionize the innovators. We are partial to tinkerers and make folk-heroes out of people like Thomas Edison, Henry Ford, and Benjamin Franklin.

But sometimes change seems to run amuck and things appear to be out of control. Then fear takes over and spoils our appetite for novelty. That is what has happened in Wall Street over the past fifteen or twenty years.

The complexity and speed of financial innovation have reached a point where it is hard to grasp what is happening from moment to moment. Amateur investors and many professionals are wary of space-age trading strategies and kinky financial instruments that seem beyond their understanding. Individual investors grumble that they are the last to receive information about the stocks they own and the last to find buyers when security prices are dropping. Giant financial institutions complain that security prices are dangerously volatile. There is a widely held perception that overpaid MBAs, corporate raiders, and investment managers who talk like astrophysicists are living in a world of their own, detached from the realities of people who really work for a living.

But that is only part of the story. The untold part, which is what this book is about, reveals that much of this fear and resentment is misplaced. Baffling as it may be to some, Wall Street is vital and productive, a model for the rest of the world, including former socialist countries seeking the path to prosperity and freedom.

The gap in understanding between insiders and outsiders in Wall Street has developed because today’s financial markets are the result of a recent but obscure revolution that took root in the groves of ivy rather than in the canyons of lower Manhattan. Its heroes were a tiny contingent of scholars, most at the very beginning of their careers, who had no direct interest in the stock market and whose analysis of the economics of finance began at high levels of abstraction.

Yet the message they brought to Wall Street was simplicity itself, based on two of the most basic laws of economics. There can be no reward without risk. And gaining an advantage over skilled and knowledgeable competitors in a free market is extraordinarily difficult. By combining the linkage between risk and reward with the combative nature of the free market, these academics brought new insights into what Wall Street is all about and devised new methods for investors to manage their capital.

Much of what these scholars had to say often seemed strange and uninviting to hungry investors and to the aggressive salesmen who inhabit Wall Street. But in their quiet way the academics eventually overcame the old guard and liberated the city of capital. Before they were done, they had transformed today’s wealth of nations and the lives of all of us, as citizens, savers, and breadwinners.

Today investors are more keenly aware of risk, and better able to deal with it, than at any time in the past. They have a more sophisticated understanding of how financial markets behave and are capable of using to advantage the vast array of new vehicles and new trading strategies specifically tailored to their needs. Innovative techniques of corporate finance have led to more careful evaluation of corporate wealth and more effective allocation of capital. The financial restructuring of the 1980s created novel solutions to the problems arising from the separation of ownership and control and made corporate managers more responsive to the interests of shareholders.

The first signs of the revolution in finance and investing appeared in October 1974, with the culmination of the worst bear market in common stocks since the Great Crash of 1929. By the time prices finally touched bottom, market values had fallen more than 40 percent from what they had been two years earlier.

That was not all. An overheated domestic economy and the rapacity of the OPEC countries had sent inflation soaring. In just a year and a half, the cost of living jumped 20 percent, more than 1 percent a month. After adjustment for inflation, the entire rise in stock prices since 1954 had been erased. At the same time, the bond market, the traditional haven for the risk-averse, suffered a 35 percent loss of purchasing power.

No one emerged unscathed. Employees found that the decline in the value of their pension funds threatened the security of their retirement. Distress brought pressure for change throughout the world of finance: the way professionals managed their clients’ capital, the structure of the financial system itself, the functioning of the markets, the range of investment choices available to savers, and the role of finance in the profitability and competitiveness of American companies. Many of the star portfolio managers of the go-go years of the 1960s disappeared in the rubble, along with Richard Nixon’s price controls and Gerald Ford’s W.I.N, buttons. Respected banks, major industrial corporations, and even the City of New York stood at the brink of bankruptcy.

Had it not been for the crisis of 1974, few financial practitioners would have paid attention to the ideas that had been stirring in the ivory towers for some twenty years. But when it turned out that improvised strategies to beat the market served only to jeopardize their clients’ interests, practitioners realized that they had to change their ways. Reluctantly, they began to show interest in converting the abstract ideas of the academics into methods to control risk and to staunch the losses their clients were suffering. This was the motivating force of the revolution that shaped the new Wall Street.

Even an incomplete list of the innovations that have emerged since the mid-1970s reminds us of how profoundly the present differs from the past. The unfamiliarity of some of the new terminology suggests the magnitude of that break with tradition.

Today there are money market funds, bank CDs for small savers, unregulated brokerage commissions, and discount brokers. There are hundreds of mutual funds specializing in big stocks, small stocks, emerging growth stocks, Treasury bonds, junk bonds, index funds, government-guaranteed mortgages, and international stocks and bonds from all around the world. There is ERISA to regulate corporate pension funds, and there are employee savings plans that enable employees to manage their own pension funds. There are markets for options (puts and calls) and markets for futures, and markets for options on futures. There is program trading, index arbitrage, and risk arbitrage. There are managers who provide portfolio insurance and managers who offer something called tactical asset allocation. There are butterfly swaps and synthetic equity. Corporations finance themselves with convertible bonds, zero-coupon bonds, bonds that pay interest by promising to pay more interest later on, and bonds that give their owners the unconditional right to receive their money back before the bonds come due.

The world’s total capital market of stocks, bonds, and cash had ballooned from only $2 trillion in 1969 to more than $22 trillion by the end of 1990; the market for stocks alone had soared from $300 billion to $55 trillion. Today, more than half of the global market, nearly $12 trillion, trades outside the United States, compared to only one-third of the market in 1969. Hence, the wealth of nations.

Over $2 trillion, more than 50 percent of the common stock outstanding in the United States, is now owned by pension funds, mutual funds, educational endowments, and charitable foundations, compared with 40 percent in 1980 and less than 15 percent in 1950. These institutions account for 80 percent of all trading activity in the stock market, and none of them pays income taxes or taxes on capital gains. More than 70 percent of all outstanding shares changes hands in the course of a year, up from only 20 percent or so in the 1970s. The average transaction of the New York Stock Exchange now exceeds 2,000 shares, nearly six times what it was in 1974; half of the daily volume of trading takes place in blocks of 10,000 shares or more. Meanwhile, individual investors who buy and sell for their own accounts are a disappearing breed. Their direct holdings of common stocks now represent only 16 percent of their financial assets, down from 44 percent in the late 1960s.a Odd-lots (transactions of less than 100 shares) have fallen from 5 percent of total volume to less than 2 percent.

Financial assets now change hands with dizzying speed. Daily trading on the New York Stock Exchange averages over 150 million shares, more than ten times the daily average of 1974, five times the average in the highest year of the 1970s, and 100 times the average in the early 1950s. On Black Monday of October 1987, 604 million shares were traded. Millions of additional shares are traded directly across computers, bypassing the organized exchanges altogether. The volume of shares traded in the markets for futures and options often exceeds the volume traded on the organized exchanges. Trading in Tokyo is ten times what it was in 1982, in Frankfurt twelve times, and in London thirty times.

The pace is even swifter in the once-sedate bond market. Daily trading in U.S. government bonds runs about $100 billion. That means that the ownership of the entire national debt is turning over ten times a year. Trading is swifter still in the foreign-exchange markets: Transactions in the United States exceed $100 billion a day, while Tokyo does some $30 billion and other world markets do another $100 billion.

Such volume would be impossible without the computer. Many complex securities could not even be priced without the computer’s speed and mathematical capabilities. So-called DOT transactions automate small trades on the New York Stock Exchange and transmit them instantaneously from the customer’s broker to the post where the order is executed. The whole world, it seems, is becoming computerized. Even Latin America and Spain rely on computers to carry out trades, check customer credits, and post the transaction results for records and statements.b In an article titled “The Wild, Wired World of Electronic Exchanges,” Institutional Investor magazine for September 1989 paints the scene: “Say good-bye to the heady roar of the exchange floor. Forget the terse shouting of two traders on the phone. The new sound of finance is the machine-gun clatter of fingers on a keyboard. And it can already be heard on thousands of trading desks in dozens of markets around the world.”1

Financial markets are among the most dazzling creations of the modern world. Popular histories of financial markets from the City of London to Wall Street tell the story of panics, robber barons, crooks, and rags-to-riches tycoons. But such colorful tales give little hint of the seriousness of the business that goes on in those markets. John Maynard Keynes once remarked that the stock market is little more than a beauty contest and a curse to capitalism. And yet no nation that has abandoned socialism for capitalism considers the job complete until it has a functioning financial market.

Simply put, Wall Street shapes Main Street. It transforms factories, department stores, banking assets, film producers, machinery, soft-drink bottlers, and power lines into something that can be easily convertible into money and into vehicles for diversifying risks. It converts such entities into assets that you can trade with anonymous buyers or sellers. It makes hard assets liquid, and it puts a price on those assets that promises that they will be put to their most productive uses.

Wall Street also changes the character of the assets themselves. It has never been a place where people merely exchange money for stocks, bonds, and mortgages. Wall Street is a focal point where individuals, businesses, and even entire economies anticipate the future. The daily movements of security prices reveal how confident people are in their expectations, what time horizons they envisage, and what hopes and fears they are communicating to one another.

The ancients left prediction to the Sphinx, to the Delphic oracle, or to those who could read the entrails of animals. Ecclesi-astes tells us that “there is no remembrance of things past, neither shall there be remembrance of things to come.” Dante reserved a seat in hell for anyone “whose glance too far before him ranged,” and twisted their heads back-to-front.2

Today anticipating the future is a necessity, not an arcane game. Yet how do we make decisions when our crystal ball turns cloudy? How much risk can we afford to take? How can we tell how big the risk actually is? How long can we afford to wait to discover whether our bets are going to pay off?

The innovations triggered by the revolution in finance and investing provide answers to such questions. They help investors deal with uncertainty. They provide benchmarks for determining whether expectations are realistic or fanciful and whether risks make sense or are foolish. They establish norms for determining how well a market is accommodating the needs of its participants. They have reformulated such familiar concepts as risk, return, diversification, insurance, and debt. Moreover, they have quantified those concepts and have suggested new ways of employing them and combining them for optimal results. Finally, they have added a measure of science to the art of corporate finance.

Many of these innovations lay hidden in academic journals for years, unnoticed by Wall Street until the financial turbulence of the early 1970s forced practitioners to accept the harsh truth that investment is a risky business. This was the key insight that the academics brought to Wall Street. Waiting for one’s ship to come in is inevitably uncomfortable and uncertain, they declared, but there is no way to avoid the discomfort or to foretell just what the future holds in store.

Wall Street responded to this urgent message by expanding the variety of mutual funds, by showing heightened interest in international investing, and by devising new instruments of corporate finance. Moreover, it discovered new sources of return in such risk-controlling techniques as options, futures, swaps, portfolio insurance, and other exotic measures.

Some of these innovations produced unforeseen and undesirable outcomes. Financial markets, like many other creations of the human imagination, mix dangerous tendencies with wholesome impulses.

Most economic crises, in one way or another, have originated from abuses in the financial system, which may explain why orthodox economists have traditionally shunned their brethren in the finance departments. Stocks and bonds, for example, by their very nature, invite speculation and even corruption. No one buys them with the lofty purpose of making the allocation of the nation’s capital more efficient. People buy them only in the hope of catching a ride on the road to riches.

Because stocks and bonds are liquid, decisions to buy or sell them can be easily reversed. They change hands anonymously as their prices march across the computer screen. Because they move in response to information of all types, the player who gets the information first has an enormous advantage.

They fluctuate in sympathy with one another, so that trouble in one place often spreads across the markets: chaos theory reminds us that the flutter of a butterfly’s wings in Mexico can turn out to be the cause of a tidal wave in Hawaii. Most important, the prices of stocks and bonds reflect people’s hopes and fears about the future, which means they can easily wander away from the realities of the present.

There is no way to purge financial markets of these attributes. Efforts to do so—and regulation has come in many different forms—impair the efficiency with which financial assets perform the broad social function of serving as a store of value. Liquidity, low transaction costs, and the freedom of investors to act on information are essential to that function.

If individual investors had dominated the financial markets during the 1970s and 1980s, the revolution we have been describing would in all likelihood never have taken place; the ingenious journal articles would have stimulated more ingenious journal articles, but little change would have occurred on Wall Street. In any case, tax constraints and high transaction costs would have prevented individual investors from transforming their portfolios to accord with the new theories. Most individual investors work at the job only part-time and cannot undertake the long study and constant attention required by the application of innovative techniques.

Instead, the revolution was augmented by the rise of institutional investors such as pension funds, which were able to change as their size and investment goals changed. In the 1950s, financial institutions were far from performance-oriented. When I first came into the investment management business in 1951, buy-and-hold was the rule and turnover in institutional portfolios was slow. One reason for this complacency was rationalized laziness in an environment in which competition played a negligible role. But in another sense it was perfectly logical. In the 1950s most stocks were owned by taxable individuals who had bought them during the 1930s and 1940s at far lower prices. I remember how impressed I was by the profits in the portfolios managed by my father’s investment counseling firm when I arrived on the scene in 1951. It made no sense to sell good companies and give Uncle Sam a disproportionate share of the winnings.

It was about this time that everything began to change. The early 1950s were a period of great prosperity across all income groups. Yearly savings by individuals nearly tripled between 1949 and 1957. As the depression-haunted generation faded away, common stocks once again became an acceptable asset, even for trust accounts; New York State led the way by discarding a longstanding statute that had limited stock ownership to 35 percent of the total of personal trust capital.

A great wave of new investors, with no share in the huge capital gains generated by the older portfolios, now acquired the habit of calling their brokers. Share-ownership doubled during the decade. By 1959, one in every eight adults owned stock, 75 percent of them with household incomes under $10,000 (the equivalent of about $40,000 in 1990 purchasing power). Individual savings flowed into the mutual funds even more rapidly than into the direct purchase of common stocks; mutual fund assets doubled between 1955 and 1960 and then doubled again over the next five years.

Corporate pension funds developed from a novelty to an institution and became the primary clients of the investment management profession. Their assets increased more than tenfold during the 1950s, giving them a powerful influence on portfolio turnover. Because pension funds are not subject to the capital gains taxes that hobble profit-taking by individuals, professional portfolio managers now began to have more fun.

This flood of new money, especially tax-free money, pouring into the marketplace soon transformed the traditional practices of comfortably ensconced trust officers and investment advisors. Competition goaded institutions into ever-higher levels of activity in their endless pursuit of rich returns. In 1967, my own organization, seeking a quick move into the big time, assented to being acquired by an aggressive young brokerage firm with a capital of only $1,000,000 that would keep on acquiring until one day it metamorphosed into one of the largest firms on Wall Street. Along with everyone else, we noticed that we were trading much more actively than in the old days, especially as more and more of the money we managed was exempt from taxation.

The process has been a constant joy to the investment advisory profession. Just during the 1980s the number of investment advisors registered with the S.E.C. tripled, while the number of mutual funds more than quadrupled. Dave Williams, chairman of one of the largest mutual fund organizations, recently quipped that “investment management is the only professional enterprise in America with more competitors than clients.”3

There are giants among them. Nearly 100 portfolio management organizations now have over $10 billion each under management. The ten largest manage $800 billion of financial assets out of an institutional total of some $5 trillion in stocks, bonds, and real estate. Citibank, which was number one in 1977 with $26 billion, would barely have made the top 25 in 1989.

The tried-and-true methods of managing portfolios that my older partners taught me in the 1950s were ill suited to the management of the vast sums that accrued to institutions as the years went by. Everything had to be revised: investment objectives, diversification patterns, trading strategies, client contracts, definitions of risk, and standards of performance.

The merry game of just picking the best stocks and tucking them into a client’s portfolio had worked well enough when portfolio management organizations were small. My firm, with less than $100 million under management when we were acquired, had no trouble running portfolios with less than twenty positions.

As organizations grew in size, that scale of operations was no longer practical. Managers with $5 billion under management and with only twenty holdings in a portfolio have to put $250 million into each position. To accumulate such large holdings and to liquidate them later on tends to move stock prices so far that the sheer cost of transacting cuts deeply into the portfolio’s rate of return. Many of the go-go managers of the 1960s ignored that reality, and continued to act as though they were still managing small portfolios. Their innocent disregard of change helps explain what happened when stormy economic weather overwhelmed the optimistic markets of 1971 and 1972.

Before the revolution, the clients of our family-oriented business would come to us and say, “Here is my capital. Take care of me.” As long as their losses were limited when the market fell, and as long as their portfolios rose as the market was rising, they had few complaints. They came to us and stayed with us because we understood their problems and the myriad kinds of contingent liabilities that all individuals must face. They recognized that we shared the delicate texture of their views about risk. We joked that we were nothing more than social workers to the rich–but skilled social workers to the rich, confident that our performance was being measured in human satisfaction rather than in comparative rates of return. We knew no more about the clients of other investment managers than they knew about ours.

But when corporate pension funds and university endowments replace individuals as the dominant clientele, the manager/client relationship undergoes a transformation. Social work goes out of fashion: personal relationships, though still important, grow more tenuous. Usually the person with whom the advisor deals must report to some higher authority who has no direct relationship with the advisor. The shareholders in mutual funds seldom know the names of the people who manage their money. Anyone who is interested can find out how much the General Motors Pension fund has to invest, whether Yale is dissatisfied with the way XYZ Associates has been managing their endowment fund, or how well ABC Management performed last year.

As financial markets multiplied and as institutions and professional managers became the principal players, innovation was inevitable. But innovation must be preceded by theory. And the role of theory in the financial revolution took some surprising twists and turns.