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Summary
Summary
The dramatic story behind the most audacious power grab in American history
The financial crisis that exploded in 2008 isn't past but prologue. The stunning rise, fall, and rescue of Wall Street in the bubble-and-bailout era was the coming-out party for the network of looters who sit at the nexus of American political and economic power. The grifter class--made up of the largest players in the financial industry and the politicians who do their bidding--has been growing in power for a generation, transferring wealth upward through increasingly complex financial mechanisms and political maneuvers. The crisis was only one terrifying manifestation of how they've hijacked America's political and economic life.
Rolling Stone' s Matt Taibbi here unravels the whole fiendish story, digging beyond the headlines to get into the deeper roots and wider implications of the rise of the grifters. He traces the movement's origins to the cult of Ayn Rand and her most influential--and possibly weirdest--acolyte, Alan Greenspan, and offers fresh reporting on the backroom deals that decided the winners and losers in the government bailouts. He uncovers the hidden commodities bubble that transferred billions of dollars to Wall Street while creating food shortages around the world, and he shows how finance dominates politics, from the story of investment bankers auctioning off America's infrastructure to an inside account of the high-stakes battle for health-care reform--a battle the true reformers lost. Finally, he tells the story of Goldman Sachs, the "vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity."
Taibbi has combined deep sources, trailblazing reportage, and provocative analysis to create the most lucid, emotionally galvanizing, and scathingly funny account yet written of the ongoing political and financial crisis in America. This is essential reading for anyone who wants to understand the labyrinthine inner workings of politics and finance in this country, and the profound consequences for us all.
Author Notes
Matt Taibbi is a contributing editor for Rolling Stone and a columnist for RollingStone.com. He is the author of The Great Derangement, Spanking the Donkey,Smells Like Dead Elephants, and The Divide: American Injustice in the Age of the Wealth Gap.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Taibbi eviscerates Wall Street for what he considers frauds perpetrated on the American people over the last ten years. Deftly delving deeply into complicated financial history and lingo, Taibbi deftly lays the subject bare, rendering heretofore-dense subject matter simple without being simplistic. Blame for the recent mortgage collapse, commodities bubble, and tech bubble are laid at the feet of a relatively small number of bankers and traders who, in the author's opinion, act without fear of reciprocity from a U.S. government no longer representative of the American people. He begins by awarding the title "Biggest Asshole In The Universe" to former-Fed Chief Alan Greenspan, taking him to task for willfully or stupidly disemboweling what little regulation the financial markets may have had before his tenure. This theme resounds throughout, and Taibbi asserts that the collusion between Wall Street and the White House has effectively turned the United States into a massive casino, in which working Americans are regularly bilked out of their savings and homes while the wealthy are repeatedly rewarded for their graft. It's an important and worthy read, but not for the Randian disciple or Goldman-Sachs alum. (Nov.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* Rolling Stone contributing editor Taibbi delivers a blistering examination of the upheaval that has roiled the American economic system over the past several years. At the heart of the upheaval, he says, is a vein of greed running up and down the real-estate industry, from mortgage brokers who falsified customer loan applications to banks that parceled out mortgages to second and third parties to rating agencies that signed off on highly suspect loans. Taibbi saves a good deal of venom for former Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan, arguing that Greenspan's philosophy of easy cash, limited government oversight of markets, and bailing out too big to fail financial institutions all fueled the recent economic meltdown. And Taibbi profiles a recently passed health-care bill severely compromised by an all-powerful insurance lobby. As critical as he is of the process a process not likely to get fixed any time soon he doesn't seem to carry an agenda; instead, like any good investigative reporter, he mostly follows his nose.--Moores, Alan Copyright 2010 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
AMONG the unfortunate legacies of the financial crisis of 2008 is a tendency among commentators to soft-pedal the outrage over what happened. In too many accounts, blame is considered impossible to assign given the complexities of modern-day finance. Those inclined to point fingers at Wall Street or Washington are frequently derided as innocents who do not grasp how the world really works. The result is an apologia that goes something like this: Mistakes were made, despite the best intentions of financial professionals. Bankers lent too much money to poor people who never should have bought homes. Models used to measure risk broke down, and regulators were swamped. All of this was a shame, but accidents are a part of life, and an unavoidable part of the swashbuckling style of capitalism that has enriched Americans for generations. Nonsense, Matt Taibbi says. In "Griftopia," a relentlessly disturbing, penetrating exploration of the root causes of the trauma that upended economic security in millions of American homes, Taibbi argues that what unfolded was far from accidental. Rather, the nation suffered the equivalent of a hostile takeover of key areas of its commercial life by investment banking houses, while regulators and members of Congress abdicated their responsibilities either because they were influenced by campaign cash or because they believed the fairy tale that unsupervised markets always work best. The result, Taibbi asserts, was a thieves' paradise - Griftopia. A contributing editor for Rolling Stone magazine, Taibbi is best known for the metaphor he hurled like a grenade at the Wall Street goliath Goldman Sachs, calling it "a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity, relentlessly jamming its blood funnel into anything that smells like money." He amplifies that characterization here, pointing out that Goldman managed to collect billions of dollars in taxpayer bailout funds that were paid to American International Group (A.I.G.). Taibbi persuasively dismisses the argument that the financial crisis was caused by poor people with a taste for real estate, delineating how Wall Street eagerly handed out mortgages to anyone with a pulse, and then used the home loans as the material for a far more lucrative enterprise - the exotic investments known as derivatives. The derivatives market depended upon a steady supply of mortgages. But when too many of the bets went bad, Wall Street persuaded the Treasury to construct bailouts that Taibbi describes as a "labyrinthine financial sewage system designed to stick us all with the raw waste and pump clean water back to Wall Street." Much of this story is familiar. The shelves are full of books describing how Wall Street turned mortgage markets into a casino. Goldman's dealings with A.I.G. have been probed in the pages of this newspaper, among others. What Taibbi brings is a broader context and his trademark snarky prose. He has written a polemic, a fullscale indictment of Wall Street and Washington, one that sometimes veers toward ranting, yet serves as a needed antidote to the more even-tempered but fatuous accounts already available. In Taibbi's telling, contemporary finance has perverted markets that once served important functions, turning them into frontier-style betting parlors. Futures markets, for example, were created to allow farmers to hedge themselves against fluctuations in crop prices, and were traditionally regulated to prevent investors from amassing holdings large enough to manipulate prices. But over the last two decades, the federal government, at Wall Street's behest, pared down its rules, allowing speculators to dominate commodities markets. Wall Street then steered pension funds into commodities. This, Taibbi claims, was the real cause of the commodities bubble that sent oil prices soaring to ludicrous heights in the summer of 2008. And now, with many local authorities hurting for cash, Wall Street is increasingly brokering deals that turn municipal facilities like Chicago's parking meters into investment vehicles controlled by overseas governments - deals that Taibbi presents as a taxpayer rip-off. Some of this analysis is overheated. Taibbi portrays the sale of infrastructure to overseas buyers as nefarious on its face, without adequately explaining the supposed evils. He accepts the depiction of the Obama health care reform as "a new law that will radically remake the faces of both the federal government and the private economy, and also ratify the worst paranoid fears of both ends of the political spectrum." Never mind that much of the healthcare sector was already in government hands through Medicare and Medicaid. But he rightly decries the crudity of the deal through which private insurers were supplied new customers at government-protected prices. Taibbi is a skilled and often entertaining writer. He is determined to help the reader make sense of complex issues that frequently cloak political and economic power, and he adroitly demystifies much of the jargon that lards financial writing. But he is too enamored of his own style. His prose wrestles for attention with the story itself, and his predilection for shock imagery and profanity tends to undermine the points he is trying to make. The vampire squid metaphor was deadly, yet Taibbi can't resist trying to duplicate that feat on just about every other page, as if laboring to justify his perch at the same magazine that once employed Hunter S. Thompson. Words and phrases like "bloviating," "utterly insane" and "moron" all get vigorous workouts. Taibbi refers to A.I.G.'s "impending ratings holocaust." And not content to excoriate the former Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan for his near-cultish reverence for unsupervised markets, Taibbi calls him a liar, adding that he "castrated the government as a regulatory authority, then transformed himsetf into the Pablo Escobar of high finance, unleashing a steady river of cheap weight into the crack house that Wall Street was rapidly becoming." Mixed metaphors aside, this sort of hyperventilation makes Taibbi's legitimate accusations seem flimsy, as if the facts alone were not sufficient cause for consternation. Taibbi reprints his now-famous vampire squid article as the book's final chapter (with updating), and then tacks on a tedious recounting of how other journalists unfairly attacked him. This score-settling comes off as sophomoric and trifling. STILL, Taibbi has written a necessary and engaging corrective to the noxious idea that the tragedy of recent years was an inevitable byproduct of the market system. What's more, he concludes with a grim warning. The villains of the last crisis, he observes, are the same people now tasked with preventing the next one."We live in an economy that is immensely complex, and we are completely at the mercy of the small group of people who understand it - who incidentally often happen to be the same people who built these wildly complex economic systems," he writes. "We have to trust these people to do the right thing, but we can't, because, well, they're scum. Which is kind of a big problem, when you think about it." The nation, Taibbi says, suffered the equivalent of a hostile takeover by investment banking houses. Peter S. Goodman is the business editor of The Huffington Post and the author of "Past Due: The End of Easy Money and the Renewal of the American Economy."
Kirkus Review
A ticked-off field guide to modern America, a place where the con artists of high finance call the shots."There are really two Americas, one for the grifter class, and one for everybody else," writesRolling Stonecorrespondent and frequent TV commentator Taibbi (The Great Derangement: A Terrifying True Story of War, Politics, and Religion at the Twilight of the American Empire, 2008, etc.). Given that almost everybody in that "everybody else" category knows nothing about how finance works, it's all too easy for the grifters to convince us that Wall Street is our friend and Washington our enemy. The author writes with populist fervor, but with the left-trending populism of an Upton Sinclair rather than a Father Coughlin. He has no use for the teabagger crowd or its prom queen, Sarah Palinwho, he writes, with memorable venom, "looks like a chief flight attendant on a Piedmont flight from Winston-Salem to Cleveland, with only the bag of almonds and the polyester kerchief missing from the picture." For all that, he does not discount the wrath that Palin and her cohorts express; even though it's misplaced, he writes, it's very real. Whether his patient explanations will ever reach that crowd remains to be seen, but Taibbi writes carefully about such things as the way that "gamblers disguised as Wall Street brokers" manipulate commodities to the exclusive benefit of the small capitalistgrifter, that isclass. The author writes with scorn for recent political maneuverings that amount to giveaways great and small to the con artists, not least of them the health-care reform package so despised by right-wingerswho, Taibbi adds, have ever since "disgraced themselves by spinning out one easily debunked lie after another" and otherwise behaving like infants.Meaty food for thought, steeped in righteous bile.]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
Rolling Stone contributing editor Taibbi argues that politics in America largely functions as entertainment, while shortsighted economic policies hugely benefit only a minority of individuals and businesses. Chapters on the mortgage crisis, the commodities bubble, and health-care reform are excellent, but he doesn't mince words. Only suggest this book to readers who will be able to handle Alan Greenspan being called a "one-in-a-billion asshole." (LJ 11/15/10) (c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
1 The Grifter Archipelago; or, Why the Tea Party Doesn't Matter "Mr Chairman, delegates, and fellow citizens ." The roar of the crowd is deafening Arms flailing spastically as the crowd pushes and shoves in violent excitement, I manage to scribble in my notebook: Place going absolutely apeshit? It's September 3, 2008 I'm at the Xcel Center in St Paul, Minnesota, listening to the acceptance speech by the new Republican vice- presidential nominee, Sarah Palin The speech is the emotional climax of the entire 2008 presidential campaign, a campaign marked by bouts of rage and incoherent tribalism on both sides of the aisle After eighteen long months covering this dreary business, the whole campaign appears in my mind's eye as one long, protracted scratch-fight over Internet-fueled nonsense. Like most reporters, I've had to expend all the energy I have just keeping track of who compared whom to Bob Dole, whose minister got caught griping about America on tape, who sent a picture of whom in African ceremonial garb to Matt Drudge and because of this I've made it all the way to this historic Palin speech tonight not having the faintest idea that within two weeks from this evening, the American economy will implode in the worst financial disaster since the Great Depression. Like most Americans, I don't know a damn thing about high finance The rumblings of financial doom have been sounding for months now-the first half of 2008 had already seen the death of Bear Stearns, one of America's top five investment banks, and a second, Lehman Brothers, had lost 73 percent of its value in the first six months of the year and was less than two weeks away from a bankruptcy that would trigger the worldwide crisis Within the same two-week time frame, a third top- five investment bank, Merrill Lynch, would sink to the bottom alongside Lehman Brothers thanks to a hole blown in its side by years of reckless gambling debts; Merrill would be swallowed up in a shady state-aided backroom shotgun wedding to Bank of America that would never become anything like a major issue in this presidential race The root cause of all of these disasters was the unraveling of a massive Ponzi scheme centered around the American real estate market, a huge bubble of investment fraud that floated the American economy for the better part of a decade Take it as a powerful indictment of American journalism that I'm far from alone in this among the campaign press corps charged with covering the 2008 election None of us understands this shit We're all way too busy watching to make sure X candidate keeps his hand over his heart during the Pledge of Allegiance, and Y candidate goes to church as often as he says he does, and so on. Just looking at Palin up on the podium doesn't impress me She looks like a chief flight attendant on a Piedmont flight from Winston-Salem to Cleveland, with only the bag of almonds and the polyester kerchief missing from the picture With the Junior Anti-Sex League rimless glasses and a half updo with a Bumpit she comes across like she's wearing a cheap Halloween getup McCain's vice-presidential search party bought in a bag at Walgreens after midnight-?four-piece costume, Pissed-Off White Suburban Female, $19.99 plus tax. Just going by the crude sportswriter-think that can get any campaign journalist through a whole presidential race from start to finish if he feels like winging it, my initial conclusion here is that John McCain is desperate and he's taking one last heave at the end zone by serving up this overmatched electoral gimmick in a ploy for . . . what? Women? Extra-horny older married men? Frequent Piedmont fliers? I'm not sure what the endgame is here, but just going by the McCain campaign's hilariously maladroit strategic performance so far, it can't be very sophisticated So I figure I'll catch a little of this cookie-cutter political stump act, snatch a few quotes for my magazine piece, then boogie to the exits and grab a cheesesteak on the way back to the hotel But will my car still be there when I get out? That's where my head is at, as Sarah Palin begins her speech. Then I start listening. She starts off reading her credentials She's got the kid and nephew in uniform-check Troop of milk-fed patriotic kiddies with Hallmark Channel names (a Bristol, a Willow, and a Piper, a rare Martin Mull- caliber whiteness trifecta)-check Mute macho husband on a snow machine- check This is all standard-issue campaign decoration so far, but then she starts in with this thing about Harry Truman: My parents are here tonight, and I am so proud to be the daughter of Chuck and Sally Heath Long ago, a young farmer and haberdasher from Missouri followed an unlikely path to the vice presidency. A writer observed: "We grow good people in our small towns, with honesty, sincerity, and dignity." I know just the kind of people that writer had in mind when he praised Harry Truman. I grew up with those people. They are the ones who do some of the hardest work in America, who grow our food, run our factories, and fight our wars. They love their country, in good times and bad, and they're always proud of America I had the privilege of living most of my life in a small town. I'm on the floor for the speech-stuck in the middle of a bunch of delegates from, I believe, Colorado-and at the line "They are the ones who do some of the hardest work," the section explodes in cheers. I look back up at Palin and she has a bit of a confident grin on her face now Not quite a smirk, that would be unfair to say, but she's oozing confidence after delivering these loaded lines From now through the end of her speech there will be a definite edge to her voice, an edge that also fills the air of this building. Before I have any chance of noticing it she's moved beyond the speaking part of the program and is suddenly, effortlessly, deep into the signaling process, a place most politicians only reach with great effort, and clumsily, if at all But Palin is the opposite of clumsy: she's in the dog-whistle portion of the speech and doing triple lutzes and backflips. She starts talking about her experience as mayor of Wasilla, Alaska: I guess a small-town mayor is sort of like a "community organizer," except that you have actual responsibilities I might add that in small towns, we don't quite know what to make of a candidate who lavishes praise on working people when they are listening and then talks about how bitterly they cling to their religion and guns when those people aren't listening. We tend to prefer candidates who don't talk about us one way in Scranton and another way in San Francisco. The TV talking heads here will surely focus on the insult to Barack Obama and will miss the far more important part of this speech-the fact that Palin has moved from talking about small-town folks as They a few seconds ago to We now-We don't know what to make of this, We prefer this It doesn't take a whole lot of thought to figure out who this We is Certainly, to those listening, if you're part of this We, you know If you're not part of it, as I'm not, you know even more. Sarah Palin's We is a very unusual character to make an appearance in a national presidential campaign, where candidates almost to the last tend to scrupulously avoid any hint that they are not talking to all Americans Inclusiveness, telegenic warmth, and inoffensiveness are the usual currency of national-campaign candidates Say as little as possible, hope some of the undecideds like your teeth better than the other guy's-that's usually the way this business works. But Palin, boldly, has tossed all that aside: she is making an impassioned bunker speech to a highly self-aware We that defines itself by the enemies surrounding it, enemies Palin is by now haughtily rattling off one by one in this increasingly brazen and inspired address. She's already gone after the "experts" and "pollsters and pundits" who dismissed McCain, the "community organizer" Obama, even the city of San Francisco (We are more likely to live in Scranton), but the more important bit came with the line about how people in small towns are the ones who "do some of the hardest work." The cheer at that line was one of recognition, because what Palin is clearly talking about there are the people this crowd thinks don't do "the hardest work," don't fight our wars, don't love our country. And We know who They are. What Palin is doing is nothing new It's a virtual copy of Dick Nixon's "forgotten Americans" gambit targeting the so-called silent majority-the poor and middle-class suburban (and especially southern) whites who had stayed on the sidelines during the sixties culture wars That strategy won Nixon the election against Humphrey by stealing the South away from the Democrats and has been the cornerstone of Republican electoral planning ever since. The strategy of stoking exurban white resentment against encroaching immigration, against the disappearance of old values, against pop- culture glitz, against government power, it all worked so well for the Republicans over the years that even Hillary Clinton borrowed it in her primary race against Obama. Now Palin's We in St Paul is, in substance, no different from anything that half a dozen politicians before her have come up with But neither Nixon nor Hillary nor even Ronald Reagan-whose natural goofball cheerfulness blunted his ability to whip up divisive mobs-had ever executed this message with the political skill and magnetism of this suddenly metamorphosed Piedmont flight attendant at the Xcel Center lectern. Being in the building with Palin that night is a transformative and oddly unsettling experience It's a little like having live cave-level access for the ripping-the-heart-out-with-the-bare-hands scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom A scary-as-hell situation: thousands of pudgy Midwestern conservatives worshipping at the Altar of the Economic Producer, led by a charismatic arch-priestess letting lose a grade-A war cry The clear subtext of Palin's speech is this: other politicians only talk about fighting these assholes, I actually will. Palin is talking to voters whose country is despised internationally, no longer an industrial manufacturing power, fast becoming an economic vassal to the Chinese and the Saudis, and just a week away from an almost-total financial collapse Nobody here is likely to genuinely believe a speech that promises better things. But cultural civil war, you have that no matter how fucking broke you are And if you want that, I, Sarah Palin, can give it to you It's a powerful, galvanizing speech, but the strange thing about it is its seeming lack of electoral calculation It's a transparent attempt to mass- market militancy and frustration, consolidate the group identity of an aggrieved demographic, and work that crowd up into a lather This represents a further degrading of the already degraded electoral process Now, not only are the long-term results of elections irrelevant, but for a new set of players like Palin, the outcome of the election itself is irrelevant This speech wasn't designed to win a general election, it was designed to introduce a new celebrity, a make- believe servant of the people so phony that later in her new career she will not even bother to hold an elective office. The speech was a tremendous success On my way out of the building I'm stuck behind a pair of delegates who are joyously rehashing Palin's money quotes: BUTT-HEAD: You know what they say the difference is between a hockey mom and a pit bull? BEAVIS: Yeah. BUTT-HEAD: No, I mean, you remember? BEAVIS: Oh, yeah! BUTT-HEAD: She's like, "Lipstick!" BEAVIS: Yeah, lipstick! (both explode in laughter) I reach out and tap one of them on the shoulder. "Hey," I say "Can I ask you two what you think Sarah Palin will actually accomplish, if she gets elected?" Beavis stares at me "I think she's gonna take America back," he says. Getting this kind of answer on campaign jaunts is like asking someone why they like Pepsi and having them answer, "Because I believe it's the choice of a new generation." "Yeah, okay," I say "But what actual policies do you want her to enact, or what laws do you think she's going to pass?" They both frown and glance down at my press pass, and I realize instantly the game is up I'm not part of the We Butt-Head steps forward in a defensive posture, shielding his buddy from the liberal- media Ausländer. "Wait a minute," he says "Who do you work for, exactly?" The big difference between America and the third world: in America, our leaders put on a hell of a show for us voters, while in the third world, the bulk of the population gets squat In the third world, most people know where they stand and don't have any illusions about it. Maybe they get a parade every now and then, get to wave at shock troops carrying order colors in an eyes-right salute Or maybe, if they're lucky, the leader will spring for a piece of mainstream entertainment-he'll host a heavyweight title fight at the local Palace of Beheading Something that puts the country on the map, cheers the national mood, distracts folks from their status as barefoot scrapers of the bottom of the international capitalist barrel. But mostly your third-world schmuck gets the shaft He gets to live in dusty, unpaved dumps, eat expired food, scratch and claw his way to an old enough age to reproduce, and then die unnecessarily of industrial accidents, malnutrition, or some long-forgotten disease of antiquity Meanwhile, drawing upon the collective whole-life economic output of this worthy fellow and 47 million of his fellow citizens, the leader and about eighteen of his luckiest friends get to live in villas in Ibiza or the south of France, with enough money for a couple of impressive-looking ocean cruisers and a couple dozen sports cars. We get more than that in America We get a beautifully choreographed eighteen-month entertainment put on once every four years, a beast called the presidential election that engrosses the population to the point of obsession This ongoing drama allows everyone to subsume their hopes and dreams for the future into one all-out, all-or-nothing battle for the White House, a big alabaster symbol of power we see on television a lot Who wins and who loses this contest is a matter of utmost importance to a hell of a lot of people in this country. But why it's so important to them is one of the great unexplored mysteries of our time It's a mystery rooted in the central, horrifying truth about our national politics. Which is this: none of it really matters to us The presidential election is a drama that we Americans have learned to wholly consume as entertainment, divorced completely from any expectations about concrete changes in our own lives For the vast majority of people who follow national elections in this country, the payoff they're looking for when they campaign for this or that political figure is that warm and fuzzy feeling you get when the home team wins the big game Or, more importantly, when a hated rival loses Their stake in the electoral game isn't a citizen's interest, but a rooting interest. Voters who throw their emotional weight into elections they know deep down inside won't produce real change in their lives are also indulging in a find of fantasy That's why voters still dream of politicians whose primary goal is to effectively govern and maintain a thriving first world society with great international ambitions What voters don't realize, or don't want to realize, is that that dream was abandoned long ago by his country's leaders, who know the more prosaic reality and are looking beyond the fantasy, into the future, at an America plummeted into third world status. Excerpted from Griftopia: Bubble Machines, Vampire Squids, and the Long Con That Is Breaking America by Matt Taibbi All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
1 The Grifter Archipelago; or, Why the Tea Party Doesn't Matter | p. 3 |
2 The Biggest Asshole in the Universe | p. 35 |
3 Hot Potato: The Great American Mortgage Scam | p. 78 |
4 Blowout: The Commodities Bubble | p. 124 |
5 The Outsourced Highway: Wealth Funds | p. 156 |
6 The Trillion-Dollar Band-Aid: Health Care Reform | p. 173 |
7 The Great American Bubble Machine | p. 206 |
Epilogue | p. 241 |
Note on Sources | p. 251 |