In late June, one of the most influential figures in modern American economics, Alan Greenspan, passed away at the age of 100. For nearly two decades, he chaired the Federal Reserve, serving under four presidents and presiding over an unprecedented period of low inflation, rapid technological innovation, and one of the longest economic expansions in American history.

Known as “The Maestro,” Greenspan left behind a monetary legacy that was, in many ways, quite paradoxical. On one hand, he believed deeply in laissez-faire principles such as deregulation, limited government interference, and allowing markets to self-correct. Yet as Fed chair, he was also one of the most powerful economic interventionists in the world. When market volatility threatened to spiral into broader economic collapse, he was often willing to use the power of the Federal Reserve to soften the blow.

This strategy of lowering interest rates when markets fell sharply became known as the “Greenspan put.” While it was never an explicit policy, it helped to turn the Federal Reserve into something like an unofficial insurance policy for financial markets.

Greenspan is often credited with helping guide the economy through the longest sustained expansion of the 20th century. The recovery that began in March 1991 continued until March 2001, lasting 120 months and setting the record at the time for the longest U.S. expansion on record. During much of that period, inflation remained relatively tame, unemployment fell, productivity improved, and the technology boom helped drive remarkable economic optimism.

However, Greenspan’s legacy is also shadowed by the financial collapse that would follow shortly after he left office. Under his leadership, the Fed kept interest rates artificially low in the mid-2000s, which helped fuel borrowing, speculation, and a rapid rise in housing prices. At the same time, Greenspan was reluctant to support stronger regulation of Wall Street, derivatives, and the increasingly risky mortgage lending practices spreading through the financial system.

After the financial crisis, Greenspan made one of the most revealing admissions of his career. Testifying before Congress in 2008, he acknowledged that he had found a flaw in the model he had trusted for decades. That model assumed that banks and other financial institutions, acting in their own self-interest, would avoid risks that could endanger their shareholders and long-term stability.

The crisis exposed the weakness in that assumption. Risky loans were increasingly bundled into securities and sold elsewhere, allowing much of the long-term consequences to be transferred away from the institutions that originated them. Critics argue that Greenspan’s deregulatory philosophy and confidence in private enterprise helped create an environment where those risks could build largely unchecked.

In the end, Greenspan’s legacy is not easily reduced to success or failure. He helped guide the economy through a period of remarkable prosperity, but his faith in markets also exposed how fragile that prosperity could become when risk was misunderstood, misplaced, or ignored.

His career reminds us that economic policy is rarely as pure as ideology makes it sound. Free markets can create enormous growth, but when confidence collapses, people still instinctively look to government institutions to restore stability. That was the paradox of Alan Greenspan: he believed deeply in the power of markets, yet his most lasting legacy may be the way he taught markets to expect rescue.

(Past performance is no guarantee of future results. The advice is general in nature and not intended for specific situations)