PFE, Chapter 17, Efficiency page 39
THE FINANCIAL PAGE
GET SHORTY
by James Surowiecki
Issue of 2003-12-01
A few years ago, the Finance Ministry of Malaysia suggested that a certain group of troublemakers needed to be punished. Caning,
the Ministry said, would be the right penalty. And who were the malefactors being threatened with the rap of rattan? They weren’t
drug dealers or corrupt executives or even gum chewers. They were short sellers.
Short sellers are investors who sell assets (a company’s shares, say) that they have borrowed, in the hope that the price will fall; if it
does, they can buy the shares at a lower price, return them to the trader they borrowed them from, and pocket the difference. In
effect, they are betting against a company’s stock price. As a result, they have, historically, been regarded with great suspicion, and
though the Malaysian proposal was novel, the hostility behind it was not. Shorts have been reviled since at least the seventeenth
century. Napoleon deemed the short seller “an enemy of the state.” England outlawed shorting for much of the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries. Just last year, Germany’s Finance Minister suggested that short selling should be banned during crises.
Across the world, short sellers continue to be seen as conniving sharpies, spreading false rumors and victimizing innocent
companies with what House Speaker J. Dennis Hastert once called “blatant thuggery.”
The United States, it’s true, hasn’t resorted to the rattan, but it still enforces a set of rules against short selling that have been in
place since the thirties, when shorts were seen as a cause of the Great Crash. In a country as optimistic and can-do as ours, there
seems to be something un-American about betting against stocks. That may be changing. The Securities and Exchange
Commission is now proposing an eighteen-month experiment in which the most onerous restrictions on short selling would be lifted
for three hundred big stocks. If the market for these stocks worked well, the old rules could eventually be lifted across the board.
And it’s about time.
“It’s easy to make short sellers wear the black hats,” James Chanos, the head of Kynikos Associates and one of the few pure short
sellers around, says. “Short selling is always an emotional issue. Executives have their egos tied to the price of their shares, so
when you take a position against them they take it personally.” But give the short sellers their due: they’re the canaries in the coal
mine, recognizing problems before others do. In the past few years alone, shorts sounded early alarms about blow-ups like Enron,
Tyco, and Boston Chicken; they also uncovered scams at lots of smaller companies that tried to cash in on the stock-market
hysteria of the late nineties. In general, the companies that short sellers target deserve it. The economist Owen Lamont studied a
group of companies that had clashed with short sellers—denouncing them in conference calls with investors, imploring shareholders
not to lend them stock, and so forth. He found that the average stock-market return for these companies over the next three years
was minus forty-two per cent, which suggests that their stock prices were as inflated as the shorts had claimed.
Even when short sellers aren’t uncovering malfeasance, their presence in the market is useful. If you think of a stock price as a
weighted average of the expectations of investors, restrictions on short selling skew that average by shutting out people with
contrary opinions. It’s a bit like setting a point spread for a football game by allowing people to bet only on one side. When a team of
Yale management professors did a study of forty-seven stock markets around the world, they found that markets with active short
sellers reacted to information more quickly and set prices more accurately. A traditional justification for short-selling regulations—
including the rule the S.E.C. wants to repeal, which prevents short selling when prices are already falling—is that they protect
markets from panics. Yet the study found no evidence of it. There’s a case to be made that in the late nineties restrictions on short
selling helped inflate the Internet bubble, by reducing any counterweight to the prevailing mania. This, in turn, worsened the
eventual crash.
If the S.E.C. does run its experiment, corporations are hardly going to drown in a deluge of short sales. Today, only two per c
ent of
all United States stock-market shares are shorted, and even with looser restrictions short selling is likely to remain uncommon. In
part, that’s because shorting stocks is simply harder than buying stocks: loans can be called in at any moment, and your potential
losses are unlimited. More important, shorting demands a willingness to challenge Wall Street’s foundational dogma: that stocks
should, and will, go up.
“I used to think that it should be as easy to go short as it is to go long,” Chanos, who was one of the first to see through Enron’s
hype, says. “After all, the two things seem to require the same skill set: you’re evaluating whether a company’s stock price reflects
its fundamental value. But now I think that they aren’t the same at all. Very few human beings perform well in an environment of
negative reinforcement, and if you’re a short, negative reinforcement is what you get all the time. When we come in every day, we
know that Wall Street and the news and ten thousand public-relations departments are going to be telling us that we’re idiots. You
don’t have that steady drumbeat of support behind you that you have if you’re buying stocks. You have a steady drumbeat on your
head.” By lifting the regulatory sanctions on short selling, the S.E.C. might help to weaken the social sanctions. The result should be
a better functioning market, which is in the interest of investors as a whole. Let corporations denounce short sellers all they want.
The case against these bears is a lot of bull.