Bubblehead trilogy: the messenger.
Inside the head of the head bubblehead.
In the other parts of the bubblehead trilogy,
The Movement and
The Manifesto, I look at the bubblehead movement
and at the statement of its core beliefs. Now I'll look at the
proto-bubble blogger himself, and still the most read of that breed.
All of us have occasionally wondered
if there was a bogeyman under our bed.
Before the Information Age, we
had two choices. We could suffer in silence, too embarrassed to ask for
help. Or we could look under the bed and find that the bogeyman had either
gone away or never
existed.
But now the Internet's "ease of
information transfer" gives us a third choice. We can go to a bubble blog,
where someone who's never looked under his bed will warn us never to look under
our bed either, and describe the bogeyman to us in gory detail.
You'll find many bubble blogs these days but one
stands out. It's "the top-ranked Google result for 'housing crash' and
'housing bubble' for 3 years running". I won't mention its name but it's
easy to find and you'll know it when you do. I'll
call
the blogger "Sage".
To the many bubbleheads who hang with him,
Sage is a refreshingly unorthodox thinker with refreshingly unorthodox opinions on that
over-hyped snare and delusion to the unwary,
homeownership.
To the handful of real estate agents who've seen a bubble blog, Sage must look like their
worst nightmare.
To me, Sage is neither nightmare
nor prophet.
Instead, Sage is simply impressive testimony to the power of the blogs, an Alert Citizen who
until recently would've been limited to fulminating in the Letters section of
his local newspaper. In fact, Sage has written at least two letters to the
editor, one alerting us to the perils
of starting barbeques with lighter fluid, the other alerting us to the perfidy of Microsoft
programmers.
Sage advanced with the technology, moving
from Ed. to Amazon.com, where
instead of being "top-ranked" he's "reviewer rank 41453". Amazon must
be a tough room. While at Amazon.com Sage alerted us to the perils of
buying Black & Decker products and to the perfidy of Wells Fargo.
Today he's a pop prophet and
loose cannon wannabe, alerting us to the perils of homeownership and to the
perfidy of the real estate industry.
Sage is nothing if not alert to
peril and perfidy.
Let's examine Sage, pioneer bubble blogger,
conspiracy theorist deluxe and top-rated source of simple and reassuring answers to complex
and troubling questions.
Sage practices what he preaches:
"save a fortune by renting" until "housing costs half as much".
This central tenet of the bubblehead faith—economics'
version of "keep yourself barefoot and
pregnant"—isn't
leading edge: it could have come from the California Association
of Apartment Owners. It could also have come from a Wall Street that until
recently has been feeling neglected by all the hoopla
surrounding (and cash flowing into) real estate.
This isn't avant-garde thinking. No, it's more derriere-garde.
But nineteenth-century thinking makes
Sage one of "the
new real estate sages" according to a regular contributor to sfgate.com, online version of the San Francisco Chronicle.
Heady praise indeed for a modest, retiring guy whose message is unoriginal and,
as we'll see, inaccurate. But celebrity is easy to come by these days. And if
you're wondering what qualifies this sfgate contributor to anoint real
estate sages, it's a "best-selling" book on how to choose your career. Credentials?
You don't need no stinkin' credentials to pontificate online on real
estate.
That the Chronicle would walk on the wild side with the bubbleheads shows how big that newspaper thinks the movement is, and
how desperately it wants to be relevant to a demographic that's fleeing old
media like a burning building. Apparently journalistic standards
spiral downward with ad revenue; yellow journalism is just the thing to perk up an ailing
circulation. But the Chron can save
its server space: it's an article of faith among bubbleheads that the old
media is just a mouthpiece for the National Association of Realtors. That the
real estate industry regularly accuses the old media of being a mouthpiece for
the bubbleheads suggests that at least a few journalists are
doing it right—reporting things neither side wants to hear—and
getting blamed instead of thanked. It's the balanced reporting both sides
say they want, but real estate is now so polarized that the bubbleheads prefer "the prejudice, the flippancy, and the violence of the
platform partisan".
Real estate: now it's personal.
To someone accustomed to the
superficial gloss of the old media, Sage is an unlikely celebrity: a quart low on
charisma, not particularly articulate, more than a little naive,
and stalking the housing crash with deathwatch earnestness
years before it happened. Meet citizen journalism. It’s a little like F*cked.com
throwing rotten tomatoes at dot-com as it collapsed, but
without the edgy humor—or any humor. Instead, the tone is “engineer with a burr up his
butt”.
But whatever his shortcomings,
Sage and other bubble bloggers are rallying points for bubbleheads who don't
think they're getting the full story. Admittedly,
those looking for strict impartiality from the National Association of Realtors® will be disappointed, although I'm
not sure why anyone would be shocked—shocked!—that
an industry trade group is cheerleader for its industry. And sure, agents
will always say "now is a great time to buy", but those of us who've seen the
market go through an entire cycle or two actually believe it. We know that there is no risk-free time to
buy, only different markets with different buying opportunities. Just ask
the brave souls who bought Silicon Valley homes late in 2001 when the world in
general, and Silicon Valley real estate in particular, looked like it was
going to hell in a hand basket. They'll lose their home equity about the
time we're all standing in bread lines.
What's the secret of Sage's appeal?
Aside, that is, from
telling bubbleheads what they want to hear?
Maybe it's because Sage was the first-est with the most-est;
2003 goes back to the pre-history of blogdom. Or maybe it's the Craigslist
effect: low sparkle-and-zip equals high perceived credibility. Or
maybe we've entered the realm of the political
scientist, because Sage may be the 'net's version of that ancient Greek
feature, the demagogue. "A speaker who
seeks to make capital of social discontent." But in deference to his medium,
maybe we should call him a "netagogue".
Let's look at Sage more closely, his
history and his
message.
Why not examine his credentials? "Credentials"?
Now there's a trip down
memory lane:
"Gee, Grandpa, tell us about 'credentials'."
"Well son, in my day, you had to have some kinda training and
experience before anyone took you seriously. But these young
whippersnappers today think all they need is some blogging software and a beef."
"That's swell, Grandpa. Now tell us about
meeting Abraham Lincoln."
But if Sage gives us no
credentials to examine, he does give us his history. That's good
information because, as proto-bubblehead, Sage's story is the story of many.
Sage is an exemplar. I've never met Sage, even though we live in the same
city and at one time may have worked in the same building, but I've met his
brethren. I've even unwittingly worked with his brethren, oh yes I have, back when I
thought that anyone who couldn't drive past an open house A-frame was a red-hot buyer. I know them better than they know real estate.
I may even know them better than they know themselves.
Sage tells us little about
himself except his full name, which he sews liberally across the Internet,
perhaps to build the brand. So with
some casual Googling we can piece together his humble beginnings and meteoric
ascent. We can get inside his head
and, in doing so, get inside the heads of the bubbleheads.
Sage moves here from Chicago in
1997 at age 32, and like many new arrivals to dot-com Silicon Valley, he's a
young computer engineer with an Internet start-up. And like many new
arrivals, he rents, and in Palo Alto, the navel of the dot-com universe.
But don't add "dot-com" to "Palo Alto" and get "real estate irrational exuberance", at
least not
in 1997, because Sage's introduction to local real estate was low-key and non-threatening. 1997 was a good
year for Silicon Valley real estate but not a great year, merely an early step in the
comeback trail from the depressed market of the early 1990s. If he
noticed or cared, Sage would have seen a market that still favored
buyers slightly.
But Sage wouldn't have been the first new
arrival sent reeling out the door by sticker shock. I
wondered then if the recruiters and HR departments really leveled with their new
hires about Silicon Valley's stratospheric cost of living,
because newbies were always blown away by our home prices. What
they'd owned in Chicago or Shaker Heights was positively palatial compared to
what they could buy here, even
with a bigger salary and
generous stock options. And then prices went up like a rocket in late 1999 and 2000,
slamming the door even harder on even more of them.
Now, you don't need a Ph.D. in
sociology to know that any group whose only view of Opportunity is as it leaves
town without them is going to a) start thinking it's been screwed, and b) start
looking for the "they" who did it. And to reassure this group that it's a
victim—that
nothing it did or didn't do caused its downfall—the "they"
must possess
supernatural powers of coercion strong enough to bend iron and stop the world on
its axis.
It's the simplistic,
pre-scientific world view preferred by nine out of ten cavemen. Thunder
comes, not from unstable warm air, but from angry gods. Rising home prices
come, not from more and wealthier buyers chasing few and fewer homes, but from
the venal machinations of "they".
Three "theys" lurked in the
dense underbrush of dot-com Silicon Valley real estate. One was greedy
sellers but hey, most buyers recognized that they too would be greedy sellers, given the
chance. This left shady real estate agents, highly-organized forces of
evil who pushed prices up and up beyond all reason. It also left their
running dogs, credulous buyers.
But all the conspiracy theorists
had to do to find "they" was look in the mirror. They were
"they"—yes!—flooding
Silicon Valley with their new money, driving up our cost of living and, with it,
our cost of housing.
Most either got over it and bought or
left. Sage did neither, which makes him something of a museum piece.
Meanwhile, home prices have nearly tripled since Sage hit town back in 1997.
Then the median sales price of a Palo Alto single-family home was $562k.
By 2006 it had climbed to $1.340M, as Sage sat with his feet up, patiently
waiting...waiting...waiting for the inevitable day real estate would
self-destruct.
That's some serious home equity Sage missed
out on. Seven-hundred seventy-eight thousand
United States dollars and
no cents. Whiffing this badly when so many lesser mortals grabbed the brass ring might
seem to cast doubt on his status as "real estate sage".
With $112,400 (20 percent) down, that's a tidy 31.74 percent annualized return on equity that the all-seeing
Sage didn't see coming.
"Yeah, but it was a fluke."
I don't think so, but who cares? It happened.
"Yeah, but it'll never happen
again." The glass-half-empty brigade always say that after a boom, but if they're right this
time, then all the
more reason all-knowing Sage
should've gotten in while the gettin' was good.
This may explain why Sage
believes so strongly that current home prices will fall by half. It also
raises some impertinent questions. If
Sage thinks the median Palo Alto home sold in 2006 is really only worth half—$670k—its
current value, then why
didn't he buy at a Sage-approved $670k when he could? Why didn't he buy in
1997? Too early? Needed to get his feet wet? Okay. Then
why didn't Sage buy in 1998, when the median sales price was only $628k?
Or why didn't Sage buy in 1999, when the median price was $715k? Or why
didn't Sage buy as late as 2001 when he still could've picked up something nice
in Palo Alto for his target $670k? Even in 2003, the year he launched his
bubble blog, Sage could easily have bought the two-bedroom home he's renting now
at a sound and
prudent $670k. Why do the fundamentals support $670k today, but not when
homes were selling at $670k? Is this profound insight? Or
is it just 20-20 hindsight?
What was Sage up to in the late
1990s? I don't know, but I do know that even in 1998 people would
occasionally sidle up to me
at an open house
and smirk, "we both know prices are
inflated, it's all hype, and it can't last".
Sage is an engineer, which
reminds me that there's a type of buyer, always a numbers-cruncher, who wants the market to slow
down so that he can take it over to the light and have a good look at it. But
the market never slows enough, which leads to this conversation ripped from the pages of real life:
Agent: "That house you wanted
to make an offer on?
The listing agent just called. They're getting an offer tomorrow. We
need to meet."
Engineer: "But I can't make an
offer. I haven't finished my spreadsheet." (Rim shot.)
The problem with this picture of
the engineer going through life with his parking brake on is that many successful
buyers in my fast-paced and highly-competitive market are engineers.
Apparently there's a difference between the belt-and-suspenders type who won't
move until every last part is tested a thousand times, and the first-to-market
type willing to trust his gut and take a chance. You probably want
Belt-and-Suspenders working on the shuttle program. You probably want
First-to-Market getting your start-up's new gizmo out the door before your
competitor does or it's obsolete. You definitely want First-to-Market as a buyer. But
Belt-and-Suspenders seems to personify most numbers-crunchers. His literalness and
fascination with the microscopic machinery of the market keeps him from seeing the nuances
that lubricate it. Putting along in the slow lane, old Belt can't see the
forest for the trees.
Sage next appears in 1998 as the
author of a book on how to improve Web site performance. It didn't make
the New York Times best-seller list, but it did sell well enough to be reprinted
in 2002, and even today plenty of online retailers will sell you a new or used
copy. What do you know? Once Sage wasn't just a media-anointed "sage".
He was
a genuine expert. Maybe that's part of the problem.
I'll quote something Tom Wolfe heard
and passed along: "An intellectual is a person knowledgeable in one field
who speaks out only in others." Tom, intellectuals aren't the only ones who
feel comfortable straying into unfamiliar territory. Let's substitute
"bubblehead" for "intellectual" and
listen to what else he has to say. The bubblehead
needs "no
particular education, no scholarly training, no philosophical grounding, no
conceptual frameworks, no knowledge of academic or scientific developments other
than the sort of stuff you might pick up in Section 9 of the Sunday newspaper
[or on the Internet].
Indignation about the powers that be and the bourgeoisie fools who did their
bidding—that was all you needed. Bango! You were an
[expert]."
The bubblehead is "inseparable from his necessary indignation.
It was his indignation that elevated him to his plateau of moral superiority.
Once up there, he was in a position to look down at the rest of humanity [home
buyers and agents]. And it hadn't cost him any effort, intellectual
or otherwise."
Wolfe's pyrotechnics are tough
to follow, but let me put the idea my way. Many of us reach a fork in the
road, a decision point that triggers an almost Biblical temptation.
It's when we think hey, I'm really good at what I do.
Because from there it's a short step to hey, I'm really good period,
end of discussion. Most of us
get through this moment with our heads the same size because somehow we
understand that knowledge is a house with many locked rooms, and that whatever
specialized aptitude we have unlocks only one of those rooms.
Or success can have us thinking
that no room is locked to us.
1999 finds Sage quiescent, but in
2000 he
has his Saul-on-the-road-to-Damascus epiphany that not only converts him to the
bubblehead faith
but makes him one of its leading proselytizers.
In a recent interview, Sage says
that in 2000 he offered $500k "without inspections" on a Berkeley house listed
at $400k "and got outbid". The story is common to the dot-com
wars. Losing in multiple offers is a huge emotional letdown and, I
suspect, a serious kick in the ego. And that's just from the agent's point
of view.
Most buyers pick themselves off the floor and try again; some don't.
But what's surprising about this
story is the alleged quality of
Sage's
one and
apparently only offer. I'd like to see it—there's more to a
good
offer than price or inspections—but
a buyer willing to offer 25 percent over list usually doesn't pack up and leave after just one
try, let alone do a scorched-earth retreat.
And in shifting his focus from go-go Palo Alto
to laid-back "Bizerkley", Sage reveals a bit more about himself. Both
are university towns with progressive traditions, but the Silicon Valley culture
of Palo Alto,
which doesn't diss you for making a buck while changing the paradigm, has left
it with only a trace
residue of 1960s counter culture. Berkeley, on the other hand, is its
local flagship.
Berkeley is also considerably cheaper than Palo
Alto. Palo Alto challenges the numbers-crunchers because it doesn't look good
on a spreadsheet. You pay big bucks for dumpy homes in ordinary neighborhoods—and
that's affordable Palo Alto. This leads to the perception
among some that only fools, whipped into a frenzy by unscrupulous agents (those "they"
again), pay Palo Alto prices. "They" are up to their old
tricks, stirring up the marketplace, ruining things for ordinary God-fearing
folks. Somehow the people who
buy this comforting delusion never connect the fact that they and all their friends really
really want to live in Palo Alto with the fact that
Palo Alto is really really expensive. Some of these people
profess to understand the economics of real estate.
That fateful rebuff in 2000
affected Sage in two ways. First, it drained him of any enthusiasm for
homeownership for at least six years and, according to the interview this
anecdote comes from, probably for another five as well. That's what they
call a "pivotal event".
Second, it helped Sage develop his
manifesto, his belief structure about homebuying and homeownership.
But don't go there yet, because
it'll be instructive to review what Sage
took away from his brief and unsuccessful brush with homebuying.
According to the interview, "the numbers
didn't add up." This is classic bubblehead thinking: homebuying is all about numbers, not about
home. Real estate is just
another financial market; a home is just another financial asset. The only legitimate emotions in any financial market are greed and fear,
and that
other emotion NAR keeps mentioning—home—is
just industry propaganda foisted on gullible victims. Left to their
own devices, people won't connect emotionally to "home".
But when "they" run homebuying up the flagpole, the weak and credulous
have no choice but to salute.
That's the bubbleheads' story. Want a simple answer to a complex issue?
Hey, don't we
all? Maybe
the whole bubblehead-versus-homebuyer dichotomy boils down to this: left
brain versus right, numbers versus emotion, detachment versus commitment,
rationalist versus intuitivist, clinical Mr. Science versus
comforting hearth of home, even alienation
versus community is there a sociologist in the house? Neither side understands the other because each
side is wired
differently.
Which side is right? I'm
won't go there, because then I'd be making the same spurious value judgment the
bubbleheads make. But it does strike me that the elaborate mythology the
bubbleheads have had to use to patch together their position suggests that it's more
about denial than reality. On the other hand, it may simply mean that even
the bubbleheads—especially
the bubbleheads—don't
know where they come from. I wish one blogger was fearless and perceptive
enough to stand back, look objectively at the bubblehead position and strip it
to its core belief—"we're
inveterate speculators who think it's all about the money"—and
leave out all the home-brewed inefficient market stuff and sanctimonious moral
crusading. Then the bubblehead position would be credible. Not
right, but credible...or at least honest...or at least not as goofy. Of
course, any blogger who did that would have an audience consisting solely of himself.
"This was when I realized that this was not
sustainable." Here Sage is both right and wrong in the
short-term, and flat-out wrong in the long term. No, the dot-com real
estate boom wasn't sustainable. Booms are never sustainable, just as busts
are never sustainable in a desirable place like the Bay Area. Booms and
busts run in cycles. This isn't advanced economic thinking. The
local real estate market, booming in 2000, was headed for bust. And whenever we're in a bust, there are
always people who say "the market will never come back" and say it
convincingly. They've
also said "Silicon Valley will never come back", convincingly, every time it's gone bust over
the past thirty years. Our current recovery marks the
sixth time they've been wrong.
Sustainable appreciation? I don't know how
Sage
defines it, but if the gullible fools who paid an unsustainable $969k for the
median-priced Palo Alto home sold in 2000 still own it, they've done rather
well: it's now worth about $1.340M. Meanwhile, at some point
between now and 2001, the "new real estate sage" gets himself a $350
monthly rent reduction. Woo hoo! Let's run the numbers.
Gullible Fools pick up $371k in equity. Sage saves himself a nice tidy $29k in
rent, and that's assuming he got that rent reduction right after his lease
expired. Gullible Fools 1, Sage 0. Of course, Sage recovers nicely
by claiming that Gullible Fools will have to give it all back, but the economy's
response to declining and even flattening home prices suggests Mr. and Mrs. Fool
will lose their 38 percent appreciation only when all of us—bubbleheads
included—are
standing at soup kitchens.
The price spike that so alarmed
Sage in 2000 is how homes appreciate in an area like ours, an area that can't
have enough supply to meet surges in demand because it's been built out for
years. Perhaps Sage thinks that Silicon Valley price appreciation
should look like the trend line for the national average home price:
ever so slowly and steadily upward. Any appreciation more dramatic than this is a
"bubble". Perhaps he doesn't understand that the national trend line is
deceiving because of "the law of big numbers": it's a composite of
hundreds of local markets, many experiencing great volatility due to local
economic conditions, but which in the aggregate cancel each other out except for a gradual long-term trend upward
[until recently].
According to Sage, bubbleheads are "people
like me who would like to buy but don't want to ruin their lives by getting into
massive debt." It's a common sentiment—"I
want it all"—but
for most of us it's not realistic. Yes, most homeowners
cut their spending in other
areas. Their cars may be older and not as
expensive. Their toys
may be fewer, their vacations not as exotic. But they make these sacrifices
willingly because the emotional satisfaction from owning their
home is compensation enough. Their focus has shifted from fancy/toys/adventure to home. It happens
to most of us, sooner or later. Sage isn't there yet. He may never
be. That's okay. It's even okay for him to think that this is corny NAR propaganda. But it's not okay for him to put down others
for thinking and feeling what he doesn't or can't.
And perhaps you've noticed a sense of entitlement.
"I should be able to buy a home in one of the most expensive and desirable places on earth
without feeling the pinch."
Sage: "Everyone has an economic
interest in the deal. No one is on the buyer's side." Whew,
maybe houses should come with warning labels! It also makes you wonder how a country with a 67
percent
homeownership rate for so long has managed to avoid collapse. This junior-grade cynicism
calls to mind the little boy who discovers that Santa Claus doesn't exist and runs with it. Now
not only is the Old Gent a fraud,
but so is Christmas and the Fourth of July and Groundhog Day and...
Yes, there's risk in the real estate market,
just as there's risk in the stock market, the new-car market, the plasma TV market or any big-ticket market.
There's also risk in being
risk averse. It's no secret that
real estate offers more risk than plasma TVs, but no one will live in a plasma
TV for forty years and then sell it for forty times what he paid.
It's that risk/reward thing.
And yes, everyone involved in the sale of a home
gets paid. Everyone involved in renting a home gets paid too. That's how business models work. Who do you think should
represent buyers, Sage? Docents? Could buyers protect themselves by
paying their agents up front, by the hour, instead of letting sellers pay agents
per transaction? I'm all for it, but I don't think many buyers will be.
The critics and paradigm-changers don't understand that buyers have bought into
real estate model for
one reason: they like it. Buyers keep coming back
to the current business model, not because they're stupid, but because it's to
their advantage. Change the
way buyer's agents get paid, Sage, and a legion of grateful agents will elect you NAR president for life.
No one looks out for buyers?
I know more than a few agents who do, but I'll never convince you of that. So
I'll humor you and say, okay, no one looks out for the little guy—unless,
of course, the little guy's interests happen to coincide with a big guy's.
The NAR is a big guy, one of the biggest, and it's doing everything it can to
keep homeownership compelling. Then there's that other big guy, the
Federal government, the biggest guy on the playground, who for seventy years has
helped homeowners with perks like tax advantages and insured loans. These
are good guys for a little guy to hang with.
But who looks out for the little
guy, especially renters? Do renters have a powerful lobby? Not
unless they live in one of a handful of rent-controlled cities. But
landlords do have a lobby, and it's one of the biggest in the state.
They're very big guys, but they're on their side, not your side.
Sage surveys the battlegound and
calmly offers this
advice: "Rent and watch and enjoy, 'cause now it's our turn."
Hold it! I'm getting this idea for a fable. I call it "The Ant and The Grasshopper".
This is
exactly the stuff bubbleheads want to hear, because this is exactly the
stuff bubbleheads want to do. Bubble-think miraculously transforms inertia
and paralysis into cunning strategy. Yessir, just sit on your (rented) porch with your feet up and the world will come
a-crawling. That's how it always works. No effort or initiative
necessary. But since a chart on
Sage's home page shows Craiglist's asking rents rising steadily (and
actual rents have been going up since 2005, according to MLS
data) you have to wonder how often Sage looks
at his blog or fact-checks his thinking.
Which brings us to the
awkward truth that everyone seems too polite to point out:
Emperor Sage has no clothes. Let's forget for a moment that
Sage has no industry experience; neither do the real estate academics (and what a swell job they do!). Let's also forget for a moment that Sage
is self-taught; at least the academics have to get through grad school. Let's not forget
for one minute that Sage hasn't had any homeownership experience in the past nine
years, if ever. Let's also not forget, even for a second, that the sum
total of his real estate experience is apparently one unsuccessful offer.
Yet Sage is a "real estate sage".
As they say here in Silicon Valley,
"Are you kidding?"
This is a little like a guy writing an advice
column on dating who's had just one date in nine years...and it didn't go well...and now he thinks dating is highly overrated...in fact, he recommends
that you
drop out of dating until sanity returns to the dating experience...and honest,
this isn't sour grapes, just disinterested science.
"Yeah, but he's really interested in dating.
He's researched it a whole lot. You should see his spreadsheets."
The analogy between dating and
homebuying isn't a stretch. People "fall in love" with a house,
preferably one with "sex appeal". They need to bond emotionally to a house
before they can make a commitment to it. Did I just prove that homebuyers are
emotional twits? I guess it depends on whether you think emotion can be a
legitimate, positive and reliable guide. Did you spreadsheet your spouse before you proposed?
Resolutely turning his back on homebuying in 2000,
Sage rents a two-bedroom house in Menlo Park for $2700. He and his family
of three apparently still live there.
At some point Sage leaves the
Internet start-up that brought him to Silicon Valley for Sun, then moves to "a major
online brokerage" he initially refuses to name but later identifies as Charles
Schwab. Well, somehow we knew it wasn't an online real estate brokerage.
It's interesting that Sage works for Schwab, and that another top bubble blogger
calls himself a securities broker. And the securities market is the market
hurt most by the real estate boom, with money hemorrhaging from it into real
property. Does Sage have a conflict of interest?
Depends on whether you believe in
innocent coincidence. Sure, Sage is just a programmer, just support staff,
but when bubbleheads say that anyone in real estate is automatically too close
to the industry to be objective, and when two of the leading bubble bloggers
work for the industry that's real estate's biggest competitor for the small
investor's dollar, and when not one
of the hordes of conspiracy theorists swarming their blogs says "isn't that
interesting"...well, isn't that interesting? No double standards here.
In 2003 Sage launches his
blogging career and begins warning that the end is near. Real estate doesn't collapse
catastrophically in 2003, or in 2004, or in 2005, or in 2006, and in 2007 it's still
booming in his neighborhood. In fact, the Menlo
Park market west of 101 is sizzling. But
Sage
is just being a good sport. He's giving real estate a very long head start.
Mysteriously, Sage remains a mass media wallflower until mid 2005.
Why no interest in this pop prophet? Sage
hints darkly that revenue from
real estate advertising has corrupted the local media. When confronted with this
accusation, the editor of his local newspaper retorts that she's
never heard of him.
But in June 2005 Sage gets brief
mention in a Time/CNN online story culled from a Time Magazine article which notes that some are "finding value in the rental market".
Sage tells Time he
rents a two-bedroom house in Menlo Park "for $2350 a month—a
13% cut from the $2700 he paid when he moved in five years ago".
2006 finds the mass media finally
noticing bubble blogs, and this rising tide raises Sage's profile. One source of interest is unlikely: Verde
Magazine, the project of a local high school journalism class. Sage kicks
off the interview in typical fashion by asserting that while homeowners are in denial about
falling prices, "Those who don't own are more inclined to take a balanced view.
They're not invested in one point of view. In fact, they're not invested
at all." Here we find not one but two, count 'em, two, fallacies.
First, homeowners in his area are in denial about falling prices because prices
aren't falling [they wouldn't fall until late 2008]. And bubbleheads are fully invested, both emotionally and
financially, in the "bubble". In just a few moments Sage will conveniently confirm
this for us.
Sage shows off his sturdy
independence by declaring "...I sure won't buy a home just because Realtors tell
me I should." It's the featured quote, set off in its own box, and I can
see why this ringing denunciation of authority speaks so strongly to teen-age journalists feeling their way through
the minefields of knee-jerk adolescent rebellion. Most of us outgrow it. Some don't.
Sage lays some advanced bubble
theory on our youthful reporters that seems fuzzy even by bubble blogger
standards: even though the price of Bay Area homes has gone up
substantially since he began blogging in 2003, their value has actually gone
down. Sage is quoted as claiming that "If you bought an
expensive house in the mid 90s (sic) and you decide to sell it and move
to Florida 30 years later, you're going to get a very nasty shock when you find
out that the property you thought was rising in value over time has actually
gone down in value. It's worth it to know what your house is really going
to be valued at down the road." I for one would certainly like to know what my house
will be valued at thirty years from now or, failing that, next month. I'd also
like to know what brand of crystal ball Sage recommends.
Maybe something got lost in translation
here, unless
Sage sees Weimar-like inflation in the future. But his reference to retiring to
Florida is revealing. It strikes a false note, like an outsider
mispronouncing a local street name. Who retires from Silicon Valley to
Florida? I asked my wife, and in the combined 103 years we've lived here
(jeez) we couldn't think of one person who's made that move. I do have two
Minnesota cousins who retired to Florida. That's only our experience,
of course, but we've seen lots of people come and go over the years and it does
suggest that leaving Silicon Valley's perfect weather for Florida's heat and humidity isn't
typical Silicon Valley behavior. But having lived in Florida, I can tell
you that leaving Midwestern snow for Florida sunshine is typical Midwestern behavior. And remember, Sage is from Chicago.
And remember, one of the benefits of homeownership is that it encourages people
to put
down roots
in the community. Renter Sage may live in Menlo Park, but apparently his frame of
reference is
still Chicago. I wonder where he keeps his snow shovel?
Verde quotes Sage as
saying that "rental rates are staying more or less the same" at a time when his blog
showed rents up 10 to 15 percent. I guess the key phrase here is "more or less".
Sage surfaces next in September 2006, in
a piece of arrant Internet flackery called PRWeb® Press Release Newswire, which has him
ruminating "the mania we had in housing was actually a painful thing for a lot of
people. They watched their friends seem to get
rich..." Gosh, isn't this interesting? Remember, Sage just
claimed that bubbleheads are "not invested" in the
"bubble".
They don't feel "painful" emotions like envy and jealousy. No,
they're above that. That's why we can count on them "to take a balanced view"
of real estate.
He goes on to reflect
nostalgically that "I was reporting (the crash) long before it was even true".
This reminds me of the economist who predicted the 2001 recession...and the 2000
recession...and the 1999 recession...and the... The secret to omniscience
is to keep throwing those predictions against the wall.
When and if one sticks, be sure to mention it in your resume.
NPR tracks down Sage for a November 2006
PBS blog article on bubble blogs (yes, blogs are reporting on blogs, a sure sign
the
end is near and not a moment too soon). I won't quote from the
interview, since it's the usual bubble stuff, but the reader comments that follow are
interesting. "Who are you going to trust, a person who is paid on
commission telling you to 'buy now or be priced out forever', and telling you to
take a toxic interest-only loan, or are you going to trust a community of
people, sharing their views about what is really going on?" By now I
think you might ask, "Do I get a third choice, please?" And note the
telling admission that this "community" is "sharing their views", not
their experience. Which do you think would be more useful?
Which do you think is more comforting to the priced-out and paralyzed?
Another poster turns bad
second-hand information into bad third-hand information by quoting the Sage
Manifesto verbatim to explain what's wrong with real estate. Then someone
will quote her, turning bad third-hand information into bad fourth-hand
information, and so on, and so on...and pretty soon everyone gets to feel like
an expert without dipping a toe in the market. More of that
"ease of information transfer".
Here's one of the more
heart-tugging sub-plots on the blogs, the agent who supposedly comes clean and
steps forward to spill the beans: Hi, my name is Malcolm. "I was one
of those who made a ton of money in real estate. The fundamentals made
absolutely no sense when people purchased my homes at 3 times what I was paying"
in rent. Thanks for sharing, Malcolm, but I gotta say, your confession is
a little suspect. First, I'm supposed to believe that you were making "a ton
of money" and renting? Okay, could happen. Second, you talk about your
real estate career in the past tense. Is it conscience that keeps you from
selling overpriced real estate these days, or is it unpaid bills? Are you shunning Moloch to meditate in the
desert, living on locusts and honey? Or did you discover that real estate is
a lot harder than it looks and go find yourself a nice easy 9-to-5? No one is more willing to point the accusing finger at real estate than the agent who
couldn't make a living in it. Then it's not his fault. "I was too good for real estate"
is always an ego-saver.
Finally, we'll look at Sage's most recent
appearance in the press, a February 2007 interview posted on the Inman News Web site. Here,
in hostile territory, he
breaks down and confesses: "Most renters are neutral...But there is a
small contingent of renters-by-choice who are adamant bubble believers and have
made a big bet on it by renting. I'm one of them." Of course, this flatly contradicts
his earlier assertion that "those who don't own are more inclined to
take a balanced view" of real estate; I think we can all agree that
"balanced view" and "adamant bubble believers" don't go together. And note
his reference
to "a big bet". Looks like bubbleheads really are "invested in one point
of view", financially as well as emotionally.
Sage adds "I don't think there are any areas that
are still inflating". First, note the bubble-speak: home prices
don't rise, they "inflate". Second, home prices went up in 71 of the country's 149
largest metropolitan areas in late 2006 and 14 had double-digit increases, according to the
National Association of Realtors. In California during the same period, 171 of 364 cities showed
an increase in median price according to DataQuick and the California
Association of Realtors.
"I can rent a million-dollar home for a little
over 2 percent per year, but cannot borrow $1 million in cash for 2 percent.
It would cost more like 6 percent...This proves that buyers are overpaying for
houses by about a factor of three in the Bay Area." What's
interesting about this assertion is that in his
Manifesto Sage claims that Bay Area
home prices should be only half what they are, which would reduce them to
1998 levels. But here Sage goes further, claiming that home prices should be only
a third, which would
drop them all the way
to 1994 levels—which
in the Bay Area is essentially late 1980s levels. So what's your target
date, Sage? 1998? 1988? 1888? Well, Sage, it's been said that consistency is the hobgoblin of foolish minds
and, besides, we're only talking about a discrepancy of 50 percent.
This concludes our summary
of the latest
and best in bubble-think.
That's one reason I'm
reasonably confident about the national real estate market over the next few
years, as many local markets transition. In the area in which Sage and I
live, near Stanford University, I see
market forces—historically strong demand, dwindling inventory, rising wages, more jobs and the migration they bring, a long-term and
incurable housing
shortage, and a level of affluence that makes risky loans a relatively small
factor—which
suggest that our landing will continue to be soft (perhaps appreciation of a few
points a year) [okay, how about a 20 percent decline when the Central Valley's
lost over 40 percent?] and will, I think, reverse in a year or two as recent
arrivals move from renting to homeownership.
That's just my guess, of
course, but I've been through a complete real estate cycle and the average
bubblehead hasn't.
Yet another reason I'm
taking predictions of market mayhem with a large grain of salt is because of a
former client, a young and aggressive attorney, I met in 1999. She told me,
like someone passing on a hot stock tip, that she was taking continuing
education to position herself for the tidal wave of Y2k litigation sure to
come when every computer flipped to 01/01/00,
rolled over on its back and
expired, bringing commerce to its knees and plaintiff's attorneys out of the woodwork.
And what a goldmine that was! for the media and for the people who sold Y2k classes to
aggressive attorneys.
Hang around long enough and you learn that bad news sells. Hear enough
bad news enough times and you're not as willing to let the media and special
interest groups play on your fears like a violin.
So who knows what's going
to happen to real estate? Probably not Sage; the odds appear against it. And you know what I think?
I think Sage knows this. It's just a feeling, but I think Sage
sees the writing on the wall.
Sure, home prices are down
in the rust belt and in Southern California and in the Central Valley.
This probably gratifies Sage intellectually, if that's the right word.
And sure, Sage must be heartened by the subprime lending crisis, although my
guess is that the long-term fall-out will be confined mostly to those areas
where sub-prime lending was common. If Sage was scientific he
could confirm subprime's immediate impact just by comparing the markets in the
"have" and "have-not" neighborhoods of his own city.
But I don't think Sage
cares much about what's happening on the other side of town, let alone hundreds or
thousands of miles away. Sage made a huge and intensely personal bet on
real estate, right here, right now, right in his own neighborhood. He
rolled the dice and put
his economic future on the line.
Did it pay off?
Sage makes brave noises, of course, and I'd never underestimate his bunker mentality or overestimate his grasp of real estate
reality. But a real estate sage should know that the value of the house
he rents didn't tank in 2007, that in fact it went up slightly, and that 2008
looks like more of the same [and was, until October of that year]. And while Sage may not have caught a
leading local economist's prediction that Silicon Valley will add 20,000 to
25,000 jobs a year through 2015, he must know that the local economy
is rebounding and that this makes his 50 percent crash in home prices even less
likely.
So, no, I wouldn't be
surprised if the blogger's life begins to wear thin for Sage. Yes, the attention, even adulation, must be
gratifying. Sage now has his own bubble logo and even a few advertisers.
He's been the toast of two bubble fetes. He's getting his fifteen minutes, or at
least a folding chair on the rubber chicken circuit. This is almost big stuff, in a
vacuous Media Age sort of way.
But after five long years
of keeping his blog's boilers fully stoked, Casey Jones must wonder
where he's heading. It may have crossed his mind that the bubblehead
faith and faithful are mighty thin material to work with.
Prices in many areas have flattened or gone down, as even the NAR predicted,
but in his own back yard that pesky "bubble" just won't burst. Sage is
patient, as people often are when they have no place to go, and the spotlight
has come tantalizingly close. But Sage is still well down the celebrity
ladder, just a cult hero, underpaid, overworked and underground. It's
tough keeping a blog audience (so they tell me; shoot me if you ever see me
downloading blogging software). It must be tough fending off the young
gun-slingers to stay number one. But when
does all his critical mass and first-mover advantage pay off? When do
five years of time, effort and fulminating do more than stroke the
old ego?
And, yes, when does
bubble blogging make up for the real estate equity he's missed out on?
Sage may even wonder if time is
running out on bubble bloggers. Pop culture events aren't eternal, and
what Sage created isn't the Gettysburg Address. Bubble blogs are spawn
of the real estate boom. Once that's history, and once the real estate
market recovers, what keeps the bubble
blogs from being just a memory, something the average bubblehead recalls years
later, as he writes his mortgage check, with the
same fuzzy nostalgia and faint
chagrin that his parents recall the 1960s. "Jeez, did I really think that?"
At least he won't have to burn his old photographs. Meanwhile, the
hardcore bubbleheads will still be renting and loving it loving
it! but
by then they'll have moved on to some other topic to over-analyze and second-guess and
some other conspiracy theory to embrace. Then Sage might be as hip as disco.
Sage's recent decision to
charge for links suggests that he thinks it's time for the old labor of love to
start paying
its own way. The result—almost half
his audience
disappeared overnight, according to his own chart—isn't encouraging. Then there's his public musings on starting a "buyer's
MLS", a reverse Multiple Listing Service offering buyers to presumably
desperate home sellers. It's more of his "now it's our turn!" thinking, except
that the limitations of the bubblehead movement may trip him up yet again.
Because it's a little farfetched to think that Bay Area sellers would be
interested in locking themselves in the same room with tire-kickers,
ideologues and aspiring
bottom-feeders.
But no journey is a complete
loss. Maybe, just maybe, Sage learned a few things along the way, the
same things every agent learns if he or she stays in real estate long enough:
That the real estate market
is bigger than any one person or group. It doesn't care what you think,
or where you draw your line in the sand.
That the real estate market is unpredictable, because
what drives it is unpredictable.
That for every good reason the
real estate market "should" do something, there's another good reason it
won't.
That real estate is local,
very local, very local.
That obsession and
spreadsheets are no substitute for experience and judgment.
They're all great lessons.
For Sage, they come at a very high price. But great lessons always
do.
copyright © 2007 John Fyten Site
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