- Laurence Copeland is a professor of finance at Cardiff University Business School and a co-author of “Verdict on the Crash” published by the Institute of Economic Affairs. The opinions expressed are his own. -

Before the credit crunch, we had what I called a Prozac market. Investors on both sides of the Atlantic seemed to be in denial, as irrational as the people who end up in the bankruptcy court because for years they have kept on smiling while the bills piled up unopened.

Last Fall, reality caught up in the shape of the worst banking crisis in history, and we have now had to mortgage our earnings for decades to come in order to bail out the banks. Not surprisingly, by mid-March this year, the Dow had fallen by well over 50 percent from its peak level at the start of October 2007, and the FTSE by nearly as much. In the last three months, however, the FTSE has risen by 20 percent and the Dow by nearly 30 percent. What has happened to justify the recovery?

The best that can be said is that there have been signs that the economic situation is deteriorating more slowly than in the second half of last year.

For example, the fall in house prices may be slowing. But in both UK and the U.S., they remain a long way above their long run levels by most yardsticks. Moreover, in the early 1990s, after the last British house price bubble popped, it took almost a decade for prices to recover, against a background of far higher inflation and a much more robust economy than today – and of course without an accompanying banking collapse.

Insofar as the construction industry is concerned, any increase in demand from the residential sector is likely to be overshadowed by continuing weakness in commercial real estate and, in the UK particularly, brutal cuts in public sector capital expenditure.

For the foreseeable future, the UK and U.S. governments, households and much of the corporate sector will be forced by record levels of debt to rein in their spending. Long term bond yields are already above 4 percent. Insuring against the risk of default costs 39 basis points for U.S. government debt, 80 points for UK gilts, and 300 or 400 points for a number of major multinationals, which clearly indicates that some financial markets have few illusions about the future.

Pricing equities usually involves a comparison of historic dividend yields with long term interest rates. Unfortunately, in crisis conditions, past levels of earnings (and hence of dividends) are no guide to the future. As government and consumers begin to repay their debts, they will both have to cut spending, or at least prevent it growing at anything like the rate seen in the last few years.

Ideally, the slack would be taken up by export demand. But with world trade in the doldrums, it is hard to imagine the UK and U.S. can export their way out of recession.

I can only visualise two possible exits from this impasse. Either the future involves years of Japan-style deflation, high unemployment and stagnant output. More likely, Anglo-Saxon electorates will opt for monetary expansion, inflation and devaluation, implying a de facto default – which is exactly the outcome being priced by the CDS insurance premia mentioned earlier.

Neither scenario is attractive for equity markets. Add to all this the danger of another round in the banking crisis (possibly involving the European banks), thinly-veiled threats from China to dump their dollars, long term problems which have not gone away, like global warming, pensions and health care……if the market was on Prozac last time, it must be on Ecstasy now.

So what should investors do? My own choice would be a mix of two components:

1. Corporate debt and/or equity of low-leverage companies in “safe” industries: pharmaceuticals and healthcare, food processors, utilities, etc.

2. Conventional and index-linked gilts in pounds, dollars and euros.

Of course, if you think governments are going to default on their debts, rather than inflate them away over the next decade or two, you need to buy gold……and a gun might be useful too.

- Laurence Copeland is a professor of finance at Cardiff University Business School and a co-author of “Verdict on the Crash” published by the Institute of Economic Affairs. The opinions expressed are his own. -

The unending saga of MPs’ expenses has to be seen in perspective. Of all the dishonest things that politicians do, inflating their expenses is about the least damaging. At their worst, they lie to us whenever they think it politic to do so and knowingly favour policies which suit their own interests rather than those of the country. How can this happen? After all, in a democracy the interests of government are supposed to be aligned with those of the electorate, aren’t they?

It might work if we were all rational, but alas, we are not. Only too often, we want the best of both worlds. Nobody is offering us endless sunshine with no hosepipe bans. But there are always politicians prepared to tell us we can have low taxes without reducing government spending, longer sentences without overcrowded jails, near-total job security without high unemployment (the French are especially keen on this), and so on. Why do democratic politicians repeatedly make these promises which they know to be impossible? And why do we keep believing them, election after election, in spite of the repeated failure of politicians to deliver the impossible?

The question is as topical now as ever. In spite of their frightening levels of indebtedness, neither the UK nor the U.S. government has yet said how it proposes to pay off debts in the future – in fact, Gordon Brown is adamant that spending will carry on more or less unaffected. Yet surely voters on both sides of the Atlantic can see that at some point they will have to pay higher taxes and/or accept substantial cuts in Government spending? If so, why do politicians persist with the charade?

The answer lies, I believe, in the nature of the competitive process through which politicians appeal to the electorate. Suppose 80 percent of the electorate know that a choice has to be made – we cannot have both spending and lower taxes. If, say, half of these “informed” voters favour lower taxes and cuts in government spending if necessary, it is fair to assume they also predominantly support the right wing party (Conservative or Republican, for example). Similarly, the other informed segment of the electorate prefer higher taxes and will overwhelmingly vote Labour or Democrat.

Now it is axiomatic that a two party system is a battle for the centre ground, inhabited by the floating voter. In the example here, it is a fight for the 20 percent of the electorate who either still cling to the hope that we can have the best of both worlds or, possibly, who know we cannot, but nonetheless cannot face the decision (and who may have the same attitude to their own credit card bills). In order to capture their votes, politicians must continue to offer pipe dreams. If they can include a reassuring wink to their own side (“when the crunch comes we’ll do the right thing”), so much the better.

At some point, the process must come to an end, as more and more voters realise the truth – that neither they, nor the Government can go on borrowing indefinitely. The game is over when, either the segment of the electorate still in denial has dwindled into insignificance, or maybe when politicians risk alienating their own supporters by the patent dishonesty of their pitch. If the reports are to be believed, Prime Minister Gordon Brown thinks we are still some way from this point, while Chancellor Alistair Darling begs to differ.