Barron's
Monday, June 28, 2004
Two of a Kind?
With a poker face, Wall Street sees similiarities between a card game and it's own game
by Michael Santoli, Senior Editor
Folks who work on Wall Street love their games. Witness the prevalence of broker-hosted golf outings and trading room betting pools. And, every so often, Wall Streeters' affinity for games converges with their obsession for trying to figure out the stock market, generating a fashionable metaphor for thinking about investing.
It's now one of those times. There's a vogue in investment circles for exploring the world of gambling - particularly poker - in the hunt for insights into investor psychology, good decision-making and sharp risk-reward analysis.
Of course, the language and lore of betting has long been a part of the rhythm of the Street. The terms "ante", "vig" and "house money" have all doubled as shorthand for investment phrases. And both Wall Street and the gambling demimonde tend to attract young men dreaming of easy money. Some rely on their wits; others use complicated computer-driven systems to coax profits from long odds.
But these days - at investment conferences and in market- strategy essays and chats with portfolio managers - a more high-toned, analytical take on the gambling arts and sciences is being aired.
Legg Mason's celebrated fund manager Bill Miller hosted a provocative conference for clients last fall in Las Vegas, where his colleague David Nelson delivered a talk on the ways in which poker is akin to investing (read it at
http://www.leggmason.com/billmiller/conference/illustrations/nelson.asp).
Just this month, the Society of Quantitative Analysts held a seminar featuring presentations on sports betting by a finance professor and another on Texas hold 'em poker. The latter was delivered jointly by a Harvard Business School professor and a former professional poker player-turned-options-trader-turned-hedge-fund-manager.
And from conversations with brokers and hedge fund managers lately, it's clear that one of the books making frequent rounds on Wall Street recently is
Bringing Down the House, a best-selling account of a scheme by MIT students to win millions at blackjack in the 'Nineties.
No doubt, the general revival of popular interest in gambling culture is part of Wall Street's focus on the betting life these days. The unlikely success of the World Poker Tour on the Travel Channel has been echoed by the hit
Celebrity Poker Showdown on the Bravo network. It's no surprise that reality-TV impresario Mark Burnett (the culprit behind
Survivor and
The Apprentice) has created
The Casino, which premiered this month.
James McManus, author of another hot poker-related book,
Positively Fifth Street, makes a broad claim in the introduction to the new anthology
Read 'Em and Weep. "The case can be made for poker having supplanted baseball as our national pastime," he ventures. "What used to be called 'the cheater's game' is now, for better or worse, at the heart of America's romance with market democracy."
Extending this line of thought a bit, the gambling-oriented books in favor today may qualify as this year's
Moneyball, the Michael Lewis book about the "value investing" approach favored by Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane in acquiring baseball players.
Released a year ago,
Moneyball was perhaps the most popular non-financial book in years to penetrate the consciousness of professional investors, who eagerly gave it to clients and invoked "Billy Beane-ism" as shorthand for their stock-picking strategy. It got to the point where references to
Moneyball in fund managers' annual shareholder letters quickly attained cliche' status.
Moneyball showed that ballplayers were systematically mispriced because of the hidebound attitudes of talent evaluators, the sloppy use of statistics and a misapprehension of what traits contribute to winning. It offered hope to money managers who continued to search for the profitable key to selecting stocks that the market has missed.
Bringing Down the House is a more vicarious pleasure, but one that appeals to Wall Streeters' hope for stumbling on to a "system" that lets them get the better of the competition in a game with the odds arrayed against them.
As if to underscore the common threads, Amazon.com lists
Moneyball as the first suggestion among other books as a reader of
Bringing Down the House might enjoy. And to complete the loop, the Amazon page for
Moneyball refers readers to investor-focused works like Enron post-mortem
The Smartest Guys in the Room and Michael Lewis' first book, the men-behaving-manly Wall Street memoir
Liars' Poker.
The blackjack-as-stock-trading analogy is a tempting one for investors to seize, mainly because blackjack is a "beatable" game, given enough statistical computing power, strict discipline, a permissive casino boss and sufficient capital to weather the vagaries of hand-by-hand luck.
Market pros also like the comparison because blackjack "is the only casino game of chance whose outcome depends on past outcomes," as John Allen Paulos writes in
A Mathematician Plays the Stock Market. That's because each player sees all the cards that have been dealt and then can compute the odds of any unseen card being dealt from the remainder of the deck.
There are other simplifying aspects of blackjack that may draw investors' interest. A player bets only against the house, whose dealer must adhere to rigid rules known by everyone. For instance, the dealer will take another card until he or she has a 17 or better, or has busted by having taken cards that add up to more than 21.
If only the stockmarket were so straightforward.
Sure, investors routinely extrapolate past performance to project future investment results. But everything from academic studies to mutual fund disclaimers exposes the fallacy of relying on the historical record to infer performance down the road. And in the markets, no investor knows, in advance or after the fact, what "rules" are motivating the investor on the other side of the trade.
Justin Wolfers, a Stanford professor who is joining the staff of the Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, has shown that legal sports-betting "markets" are mostly as efficient as financial markets. And they're inefficient in some of the same ways, mainly rooted in participants' behavioral biases.
For instance, deep long shots in horse racing are systematically over-bet, meaning that 50-1 shots win far less often than once in 50 times. In the same way, deeply out-of-the-money stock options are routinely priced higher than their theoretical value. This may be due to a 'What the heck" impulse among players, and a human inability to distinguish long odds from truly miniscule odds, says Wolfers.
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