Henry Paulson - On the Brink - Inside the Race to Stop the Collapse of the Global Financial System

“The British screwed us,” I blurted out, more in frustration than anger.

I’m sure the FSA had very good reasons of their own for their stance, and it would have been more proper and responsible for me to have said we had been surprised and disappointed to learn of the U.K. regulator’s decision, but I was caught up in the emotion of the moment.

“We’re going to have to all work together to manage this,” I went on. “We’ve got no buyer, and there’s nothing to do about it.”

Having been forewarned of this possibility at the morning’s meeting, nobody seemed shocked by the bad news. They may even have felt momentary relief not to have to commit billions to an iffy rescue. But as the reality sunk in they became somber. And then they quickly began to come together, focusing on a single question: How are we going to prepare for the markets’ opening on Monday?

Chris Cox talked a little about the process going forward. He said the SEC had been working for a long time on detailed plans for handling a Lehman bankruptcy.

As I made my way from the conference room, a number of executives rushed up to me for news. A contingent from Lehman crowded close to the doorway. Rodge Cohen, who was advising Lehman, approached me, accompanied by Bart McDade.

“Hank, what’s happening?” he asked.

I gave them the bad news. “We had the banks ready to do the deal, but the British wouldn’t approve it.”

Rodge grabbed hold of me and said, “Hank, this is terrible.”

I remember how he and McDade implored us to try something else. I could see the devastation in their faces as they took in the cold, stark reality: this was the end. They had scrambled all weekend, and I felt terrible for them, and particularly for McDade, a stand-up guy who had been thrust into an impossible job at the last possible minute.

Back in my temporary office on the 13th floor, a jolt of fear suddenly overcame me as I thought for a moment of what lay ahead of us. Lehman was as good as dead, and AIG’s problems were spiraling out of control. With the U.S. sinking deeper into recession, the failure of a large financial institution would reverberate throughout the country—and far beyond our shores. I could see credit tightening, strapped companies slashing jobs, foreclosures rising ever faster: millions of Americans would lose their livelihoods and their homes. It would take years for us to dig ourselves out from under such a disaster.

All weekend I’d been wearing my crisis armor, but now I felt my guard slipping as I gave in to anxiety. I knew I had to call my wife, but I didn’t want to do it from the landline in my office because other people were there. So I walked around the corner to a spot near some windows on the other side of the elevators and phoned Wendy, who had just returned from church. I told her about Lehman’s unavoidable bankruptcy and the looming problems with AIG.

“What if the system collapses?” I asked her. “Everybody is looking to me, and I don’t have the answer. I am really scared.”

“You needn’t be afraid,” Wendy said. “Your job is to reflect God, infinite Mind, and you can rely on Him.”

I asked her to pray for me, and for the country, and to help me cope with this sudden onslaught of fear. She immediately quoted from the Second Book of Timothy, verse 1:7—“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

The verse was a favorite of both of ours. I found it comforting and felt my strength come back with this reassurance. With great gratitude, I was able to return to the business at hand. I called Josh Bolten and New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg to alert them that Lehman would file for bankruptcy that evening.

We had tried during the summer and more intensely in the last few days to be ready for this moment. Beginning right after I had informed the CEOs that Barclays was done, the Wall Street firms, under the guidance of Tim and the New York Fed, got down to work. Among other things, they divided the industry into teams to try to minimize the disruptions that were likely to occur the next day.

A group on the 13th floor worked through other issues. The Fed had decided it could and would lend directly to the Lehman broker-dealer arm to enable it to unwind its repo positions. (Over the next few days, it would lend as much as $60 billion for this purpose.) Separately, the International Swaps and Derivatives Association had agreed to sanction an extraordinary derivatives trading session. It began at 2:00 p.m., and though originally scheduled to run until 4:00 p.m., it would be extended another two hours. The aim was for the firms to unwind as much as they could, and to offset their exposure to Lehman, before the firm declared bankruptcy and threw the market into disarray.

With a company like Lehman that had operations across the globe, bankruptcy raised enormously complex issues. Which entities would file for bankruptcy, and which would not? Would the European and U.K. entities file before the New York holding company? The Federal Reserve and the SEC had to work these details out with Lehman in order to orchestrate the proper sequence of filings. Lehman’s broker-dealer had to be open for business on Monday for the Fed to be able to backstop the unwinding of Lehman’s giant repo book.

One of the biggest issues was that the firm did not appear to have taken seriously the possibility of having to file for bankruptcy until the last minute. A Lehman team, accompanied by their counsel Harvey Miller of Weil, Gotshal & Manges, would not arrive at the New York Fed to discuss bankruptcy options until early Sunday evening, and even then Lehman appeared to have no immediate intention of filing.

In the midst of all this, President Bush called me at about 3:30 p.m.

“Will we be able to explain why Lehman is different from Bear Stearns?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. “There was just no way to save Lehman. We couldn’t find a buyer even with the other private firms’ help. We will just have to try to manage this.”

I had to add that Merrill, now in talks with BofA, was the next-weakest investment bank, and that AIG had a severe liquidity problem. I also told the president that in my opinion we might need to go to Congress to get expanded powers to deal with the crisis. The problems we had to contend with were coming at us fast and all at once. The case-by-case approach we had been using since Bear Stearns was no longer enough. President Bush—reassuring, as always—told me we would figure out how to work through the crisis. We agreed to meet the next day after I returned to Washington.

Even as we struggled with Lehman, AIG rushed to center stage. That afternoon, Chris Flowers called Dan Jester to say he’d made a proposal to AIG to acquire some of the company’s most valuable subsidiaries. It sounded to me like Flowers was trying to take the company for next to nothing. At the same time, other private-equity firms were doing due diligence on various parts of AIG’s operations. But Bob Willumstad had his own proposal for us.

A little before 5:00 p.m., Willumstad returned to the New York Fed with his advisers, and we again met in the conference room on the 13th floor. Willumstad delivered terrible news: The only proposal he had been able to generate from private-equity investors came from Flowers, and his board had rejected it as inadequate. Further, AIG had discovered another major problem: huge losses in its securities lending program. AIG had been lending out its high-grade bonds and receiving cash in return. It reinvested the cash in mortgage-backed securities, hoping to earn some extra income. As counterparties sought to unwind the deals to avoid exposure to AIG, the insurer faced the prospect of having to sell the illiquid mortgage-backed securities at big losses. It was clear that AIG’s cash crunch would likely occur sometime within the week—sooner than we had been told Saturday morning.