Why are we such suckers time and again for real estate bubbles? It's simple, really.
For years I greedily tracked the value of my home. A small condo in downtown Boston, it had doubled in value just five years after my wife and I bought it in 1994, according to Zillow.com, the website built for the hard-core real estate voyeur. Two years after that it had tripled. By 2005, just 11 years after the home's purchase, it had nearly quadrupled in value. I was rich! Rich, rich, rich!
Three years later, I'm not so rich. And a few months -- maybe even weeks? -- from now, I expect I may be poorer still.
What was I thinking? It wasn't as if demand for Boston homes had suddenly shot up. During that time, in fact, the city's population remained relatively flat. Nor did the cost of construction suddenly jump dramatically. And, yes, while we had put some money into the place, the sad fact was that by 2005, the home was looking a bit bedraggled. Yet, for some reason, I happily fell into the delusion that I was set for retirement.
I wasn't alone in this thinking. We were all deluded. In 1999, the median home price in Boston was under $200,000. Six years later (again, according to Zillow.com), it was $444,000. The same happened throughout Massachusetts. In 1999, the median home in the Commonwealth fetched $165,000. In 2005: $377,000.
How ludicrous was this? Worse than you may think. Yale economics professor Robert J. Shiller created an index tracking "real" housing prices for the nation (that is, adjusted for inflation) back to 1890. The index started at 100. Except for the Great Depression and a few other wobbles, for a century the index floated somewhere between 100 and 120. Beginning in 1997, however, the index began to spike upward, shooting from 110 to nearly 200 in nine years. Remember, these are "real," inflation-adjusted values, meaning that somehow the intrinsic worth of housing nearly doubled in less than a decade.
In retrospect, that's absurd. But we believed it (and by "we," I mean almost everyone: buyers, sellers, developers, lenders, investors, tax collectors, government officials, and so on). No more, of course. Now, instead of glorying in a boom market, we're pointing fingers. The Federal Reserve pushed interest rates to historic lows. The deductibility of interest made borrowing cheaper. Lenders lost control of their standards. Buyers lost control of their senses. Government policy encouraging homeownership went overboard. Newfangled mortgage-backed securities obscured risk. Regulators were asleep at the wheel.
Whatever. To me, the troubling question is not the causes of the bubble -- that seems fodder for endless political argument -- but rather why almost all of us blindly bought into it.
Economists don't really understand why bubbles like this occur. The first documented case was in the 1600s in Holland, when a mania for tulips for a time drove the price of some bulbs to more than the annual income of a well-off citizen. There have been bubbles aplenty since: Beanie Babies, Internet stocks, and, of late, oil. There have also been real estate bubbles: one in the 1970s, a second in the 1980s (the latter brought down the revered Bank of New England). It's easy to say we should learn our lesson. But history suggests we don't.
Here's why: Bubbles are a great opportunity to make money. Let's say you had been a skeptic and, even as housing prices started to climb in the late 1990s, you refused to play the game. You might now seem a prophet, but you'd also have missed out. True, right now people are losing money as real estate values drop. But during the years the bubble was inflating, lots of people made lots of money (indeed, even now, housing prices are far above historic norms).
Yes, in the long run, bubbles are crazy. And in the long run, they eventually burst. But in the short run, when everyone else is making money, they're hard to resist. If we expect our homes -- or any other assets that are part of a bubble -- to be worth more tomorrow than they are today, then why not buy, why not borrow? That's why, chastened as we may be by the current collapse of the credit markets, someday soon something new will come along -- a new kind of tulip bulb, perhaps, or just a resurgence of the housing market -- and we'll all merrily plunge right in. It's the rational response to an irrational world.
Originally published in The Boston Globe Magazine, October 26, 2008. Illustration by Emiliano Ponzi.