On the Edge: Paycheck to Paycheck

James Howard Kunstler

An acquaintance told me a weird story yesterday. Let’s call him “E.” He runs an Internet consulting company here in Saratoga Springs. It employs about twenty-five people in a downtown building E put up a few years ago.

Last month a freak windstorm ripped through here and took down the electric power for three days. E lost communication with the payroll service (a separate company) that issues his employee’s salaries. The storm happened in the middle of the day, Friday, payday.

The power came back on Sunday night, and on Monday two of E’s employees each asked for private meetings with the boss. Because of the storm, they said, the payroll company had failed to make electronic salary deposits in their checking accounts. They were concerned because they were late on their mortgage payments and without the past week’s electronic paycheck, they couldn’t pay their mortgages.

E told me that these were “high-level employees” with substantial salaries who were both living in “very high-end homes,” which around here would mean around a half-million dollars (and I know that in some parts of the US, like Washington, DC, or San Francisco, a half-million barely gets you a “pre-owned” raised ranch). He said he was shocked to discover that his executives were living from paycheck to paycheck, in houses that by normal criteria (i.e. pre-bubble standards) they probably couldn’t afford.

“What if something happened to me?” E said. “What if I was hit by a bus? That would be it for the company. That would be the end of their paychecks, and what if they didn’t find another job almost immediately? I don’t want to interfere in their personal affairs, but I can’t help feeling that I really need to talk to them about this.”

Meanwhile, our cretinous, pandering local newspaper, the Saratogian, published a special real estate section on Sunday under the banner “Progress 2006.” The headline under the banner said, “If You Build It They Will Come,” and the accompanying photo showed a rank of beige McHouses in a new subdivision. The sub-head said “Growth is the name of the game across the county.”

Spring here in the North Country brings with it a ripe expectation that the winter real estate doldrums will soon yield to raptures of zippy sales. Of course this is based on the assumption that the year ahead will be like the recent years just past, only better! The sense of momentum in the real estate markets is reinforced by the fact that so much stuff has worked through the arduous permitting process and is just now coming up for sale, with even more stuff behind it moving through the cloacal pipeline, so to speak—so therefore the buyers will automatically appear drooling into their checkbooks.

I don’t think so. I think that what we are getting here is stupendously delusional behavior. The ebullience in the newspaper only tells me how much unexpressed subconscious terror lurks just below the surface of wished-for “normality.” For one thing, anybody who walks around this town can hardly fail to notice how the realtor’s signs are accumulating in the front yards. Nothing’s moving. Outside of town, in the suburban asteroid belts that only ten years ago were cornfields and cow pastures, there’s a much more lavish supply of new houses. I detect an odor of bloodshed.

This has been a hot market for a while, because Saratoga is an historic “main street” town in pretty good condition with a high level of cultural amenity, close to the gigantic Adirondack Park. The three old cities nearby which comprise the employment centers of the Capital District—Albany, Schenectady, and Troy—are in such a state of squalid decrepitude that practically anyone gainfully employed has fled shrieking lately, and Saratoga has attracted many willing to tolerate a 30-plus mile commute.

For years following the two oil crises of the 1970s, the real estate market in Saratoga fell stone dead because the fear of rising gasoline prices and long lines at the filling stations remained so vivid. We’re headed back to scary gasoline prices again, only this time it will not be a temporary crisis. And this time, there will be a huge surplus of unsold houses. There will also be a substantial number of house owners getting in trouble with their mortgage payments, and one way or another their houses may end up adding to the supply of available houses. There is also very likely to be trouble in the financial markets, with dark implications for the value of the US dollar, for the movement of interest rates, and for the availability of further credit.

It makes my head hurt to imagine the coming carnage on the real estate scene here. Nation-wide, the latest figures are not reassuring. Even hot markets cool off when evil economic winds blow. According to the California Association of Realtors, sales of existing, single-family detached homes were down 24.1 percent, the highest year-on-year decline since December 1990 when sales dropped 25.2 percent. The National Association of Realtors reports Massachusetts home sales are down 21 percent and listings up 41 percent. In Florida existing home sales are down 19 percent. In Alabama existing home sales down 21 percent and listings up 17 percent. Pennsylvania sales down 17 percent. Minnesota sales down 7 percent and inventory Up 35 percent.

Meanwhile housing “starts” (under construction) jumped 14.5 percent in January of 2006. Permit approvals were up 6.8 percent. That old dawg, momentum.

House “affordability” reached a 14-year low according the US Department of Commerce. Foreclosures were up 27 percent so far in 2006.

You wonder, finally, how many current homeowners will lose their houses? How many developers will lose the shirts off their backs? How many banks will get stuck with foreclosed property? And how will the United States economy function without a phony-baloney real estate bubble market driving it?


Read: The Long Emergency: Surviving the Converging Catastrophes of the Twenty-First Century, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2005. Visit James Howard Kunstler’s website.