Why It’s Worse Than You Think

The financial system is supposed to be a tube, transmitting lower interest rates. Banks borrow from the Fed, and pass through lower costs to customers and to the markets at large. But today banks are acting more like dried sponges, absorbing the liquidity the Fed is providing to shore up their balance sheets and make up for losses, rather than releasing the cash into the economy. The Federal Reserve reports that in April, 55 percent of commercial banks said they are tightening lending standards on commercial loans, up from 30 percent in January. Judy Eisenbrand, a Moorpark, Calif., real-estate agent, notes that buyers also can't get loans as easily today, even in strong markets. "The standards are so much stricter than they were during the boom days," she says.

The upshot: the Fed's adrenaline isn't really circulating through the commercial bloodstream. According to mortgage-data firm HSH, rates on conforming 30-year mortgages (under $417,000) have only fallen marginally since the Fed began cutting rates, from 6.4 percent on Sept. 21 to 6.17 on May 30, while jumbo loan rates haven't budged at all. Worse, this may be as good as it gets. Last Tuesday, Federal Reserve chairman Ben Bernanke indicated that the Fed may be done cutting rates. Why? "Inflation has remained high," Bernanke said, "largely reflecting continuing sharp increases in the prices of globally traded commodities."

Economists say it generally takes nine to 12 months for Federal Reserve interest-rate cuts to work their way into the system. By contrast, sending checks to consumers tends to produce quick results. Some retailers have reported a surge of business spurred by the tax rebates. But consumers are shopping for necessities, not discretionary items. Sales at Wal-Mart and Costco were up in May, while sales at Kohl's and Nordstrom were down. David Rosenberg, chief economist at Merrill Lynch, argues that higher food and gas prices are eating the rebate. Follow the math. The rebate checks will total about $120 billion. Studies suggest that about 40 percent of that total, or about $48 billion, will be spent in short order; the rest will be saved or spent later. Rosenberg reckons that higher energy costs—crude-oil prices are up 40 percent so far in 2008—are draining about $30 billion out of household cash flow per quarter, and that food inflation, running at a 9 percent annualized rate, drains another $20 billion per quarter. "So instead of the stimulus being filtered into real economic activity, it's being diverted into the checkout counter at Albertson's and the gas station," he says.

Last November, retired school principal Barbara McGeary, 75, of Camp Hill, Pa., switched from a Toyota Rav 4 SUV to a Prius. But the savings she realizes are eaten by a higher food bill. "When I go to the grocery store, I see prices have doubled on some of the things I'm purchasing," she says. Last year she paid $3.99 for a container of about two dozen brownies. Now that they're retailing for $8.49, she bakes her own. McGeary and her husband are also eating at home more than ever. "Restaurants, of course, have had to increase their prices," she says.

While the housing and credit crisis is homegrown, the higher prices for high-octane gasoline and corn chips are effectively imports. Historically, or at least since the end of World War II, if the U.S. sneezed, the world caught a cold. When we used more gas, oil prices rose, and when we used less gas, oil prices fell. As GM vice chairman Bob Lutz points out, "Usually petroleum prices were the first to react to a severe U.S. slowdown." In the past it would have been unthinkable for oil to spike if Americans were cutting back.

Many factors, from a weak dollar to rising speculation, are behind the higher commodity prices. But at root, $4-per-gallon gasoline and $20-per-pound steaks are largely a function of the changing economic geography, and the diminished stature of the U.S. Last January, the talk of the World Economic Forum in Davos (aside from the locale of the Google party) was the prospect of "decoupling"—the notion that India and China could maintain their breakneck economic growth rates even if the U.S. pooped out. Five months later, the global economy seems to have decoupled faster than Jessica Simpson and John Mayer. The world is growing without us. "My impression is that China and India both have sufficient domestic demand-led growth to continue to have vibrant growth even if the U.S. has a sustained period of difficulty," former Treasury secretary Robert Rubin tells NEWSWEEK. Producers of commodities are enjoying the fruits of higher prices. Sorry, Tom Friedman, the world is no longer flat. "It is upside down," says Mohamed El-Erian, co-CEO of bond mutual-fund giant PIMCO. "The growing robustness of the emerging economies enables them to step up to the global plate at a time when the U.S. has to take a breather in order to put its financial house in order." This rampant global economic growth—more people eating better, more people driving, more people using electricity—is translating into higher prices at the Stop & Shop.

The situation we're in is nowhere near stagflation—the consumer price index is rising at a 3 percent annual rate, compared with 13 percent in 1979. But it's still a shock to the system. Fuel surcharges have become de rigueur from exterminators to personal trainers. On May 28, Dow Chemical announced it would increase prices 20 percent to compensate for higher energy prices. The realization that the U.S. no longer controls its economic destiny is contributing to the widespread feeling of unease and crisis of confidence. Economically speaking, the 1990s belonged to the U.S. and New York and Silicon Valley. But as this decade motors toward its close, it seems powered by China, and Russia, and Dubai and Mumbai. It's as though we're home watching reruns while everybody else is out partying. Worse, some of those benefiting the most from the new tilt on the Risk board are hostile to the U.S., like Hugo Chávez of Venezuela. In a recent study, Mary Egan, a partner at the Boston Consulting Group, found that 71 percent of those polled agreed with the following statement: "Because the world has changed so much, the U.S. economy will not be as strong as it was—or at least not for the next several years."

Such surveys measure sentiment, and any analyst worth his weight in PowerPoint presentations will tell you that sentiment doesn't always translate into cash activity in the marketplace. But there's one marketplace where sentiment—and especially consumer confidence—matters greatly: politics. The last time consumer confidence was this low was in October 1992—the month before incumbent George H.W. Bush won 37 percent of the popular vote, the worst performance of any incumbent in history. "The economy is always the biggest issue in a general presidential election," says Tom Mann, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institute, because it's a referendum on the party in power. A recent CBS News poll showed more people identified the economy as their leading concern (34 percent) than identified oil prices (16 percent) and Iraq (15 percent) combined.