Ann Althouse says she wanted to smack Edmund L. Andrews, author of “My Personal Credit Crisis“, when she read his article in Sunday’s NY Times Magazine. And it wouldn’t be a love tap, either.
I’m with Althouse.
Andrews begins by saying, “If there was anybody who should have avoided the mortgage catastrophe, it was I. As an economics reporter for The New York Times, I have been the paper’s chief eyes and ears on the Federal Reserve for the past six years.”
And yet, not only did Andrews fail to avoid the catastrophe, and not only did he plunge into it with verve and vigor when he of all people should have known better, he continued to throw good money after bad, refusing to acknowledge his errors and getting ever more deeply into the hole as he covered his overextensions with ever-spiraling credit card debt.
And for what? It’s not as though Andrews and his wife-to-be (who sounds like somewhat of a financial ditz, but at least she’s got an excuse—she’s not an economics reporter for the Times) were poverty-stricken. It was just that they wanted to live in a manner to which their salaries really did not allow them to become accustomed: buying the dream house, taking the dream vacations, indulging the kids in the dream indulgences, and pretending they never had to think about whether they could afford these things.
The banking and credit industry was only too happy to oblige, by lending them more money than they could afford to pay, counting on the fact that their new home would only appreciate. Sound familiar? Andrews and his fiance, despite being highly educated and supposedly sophisticated, continue to plead ignorance and the seductiveness of easy money—pretty strange coming from a man with his job [emphases mine]:
I thought I knew a lot about go-go mortgages. I had already written several articles about the explosive growth of liar’s loans, no-money-down loans…Yet for all that, I was stunned at how much money people were willing to throw at me…
As I walked out of the settlement office with my loan papers, I couldn’t shake the sense of having just done something bad . . . but also kind of cool…It had been so easy and fast. Almost fun…
Meanwhile, neither of us was paying attention to how easy our bank had made it to build up debt…
Patty and I were now unwittingly tapping into our credit line at a terrifying pace…
Our debt spiraled up faster than I had ever dreamed possible…
Between humongous loan balances and high rates, we had hung ourselves with the rope they gave us…
Andrews remains mystified as to how this could have happened to him. I can help him out on that: greed and denial. No one forced him to do any of this, and he of all people ought to have known better. But his story is an excellent example of how far many people in this country have come from any idea of personal responsibility.
And that lack of responsibility continues. Who’s paying now? It certainly doesn’t seem to be Andrews, whose bank is so overloaded with potential foreclosures that it hasn’t gotten around to modifying his loan yet (“don’t call us, we’ll call you”). The last sentence of his piece is “Eight months after my last payment to the bank, I am still waiting for the ax to fall.”
So he and the family are living rent-free in their lovely suburban home while the rest of us idiots pay our mortgages and/or our rents and try to live more or less within our means. Sweet.

