Every crisis, though, brings opportunity. In this one, investors will go back to investing in simpler, more durable things (at least until forgetfulness kicks in). For instance, investing in a company that supplies grains to hungry people looks like a better bet than investing in one that sells mortgages to people who can’t afford them. The focus will shift to things we need, rather than things we want.

As I write these words, I’m in Paris, France, sitting at one of those cafes that spill out onto the sidewalks. The two towers of Notre Dame are visible across the Seine. It is a bright and cool fall afternoon. A blackboard propped up outside the cafe carries the daily fare written in chalk. A typically gruff waiter in rolled shirt sleeves takes my order after what seems like a really long time. I’ve slipped into the Parisian pace of life, in which meals take an especially leisurely turn.

The French have a chance to gloat a bit. Even though the crisis in America, the world’s biggest economy, helps no one, the French may have a better shot than most at coming through it with only flesh wounds. The housing market stinks in France, too. Housing sales in France are off 20% in the last 12 months. But the French market is not nearly as leveraged as the U.S. market was.

Financial innovation seems to occur slowly here. Mortgages in France are typically for terms of only 15 years. The French have also not embraced creativity in this field, as most mortgages bear fixed rates of interest. There is no subprime market. And French consumers did not borrow much against the rising prices of their homes. (The savings rate here is 13% of income, versus zero in America.)

The U.S. economy followed a very different path. Sometime over the past few decades, we abandoned the old-world notion of making things. We turned to making shuffling paper our stock in trade. Precisely when and why this happened will be something for historians to debate. But sometime in the 1990s, the percentage of corporate profits from finance passed that from manufacturing.

It was the first time that had happened, and the gap has only grown wider since. Before the great credit crisis hit, profits from financial firms made up nearly half of corporate profits. Only 10% came from the manufacturing sector. As recently as the mid-1960s, it was the other way around.

The French go on and on about their cheeses, wines and breads. For us, mortgages became our national product. Mortgages, before the crisis hit, made up 60% of total bank loans and the financial sector grew to become our biggest sector — bigger than health care, retail or manufacturing.

The implication of this post-finance U.S. economy is a theme we’ll explore more in this letter. As an early conclusion, though, I believe the spread between finance and manufacturing has reached millennial extremes, like a rubber band at its limits. Now begins the snap back.

Until next time,
Chris Mayer

November 3, 2008

P.S.: In the current issue of Capital & Crisis, I lay out my ideas for investing in the post-financial world. One idea focuses around a family-owned conglomerate that combines operations in pork, grains, shipping and more.

The Crisis of American Capitalism was originally featured in the Penny Sleuth.