Archives for August 2010

Nothing succeeds like succession

So virile, he did chinups with his hands backwards. IN A SUIT

George Steinbrenner died last month. Although he was the stereotype of the stuffy, autocratic tycoon, that stereotype’s validity is now as dead as The Boss himself.

Steinbrenner came from wealth – relatively modest wealth, compared to what he ended up creating. His father owned a shipping company, transporting ore and grain on the Great Lakes. Steinbrenner fils succeeded in the family business before expanding into sports. If you’d ranked the Major League Baseball owners by net worth, Steinbrenner would have been a lot closer to the bottom than the top. Unlike his fellow owners, Steinbrenner’s income stream consisted of little more than the revenue generated by his team itself, and its ever-increasing franchise value.

The federal estate tax, which can be as large as 55%, lapsed on January 1. Steinbrenner died at the right time for his heirs to avoid having to possibly liquidate the franchise to comply with a backwards, outdated tax based more in jealousy than in economic rationale. Still, people including our political betters argue that concentrating wealth in the hands of the Steinbrenner clan is somehow obscene and maintains the folkloric gap between rich and poor.

Well, what’s the alternative to letting dead people turn their wealth over to their children? There are two:

1) Evaporate the wealth. Destroy it. Flood the gold mine, unlock the doors on the sporting goods store, set the car dealership on fire after cancelling the insurance policy.

2) Hand the wealth over to the appropriate bureaucrats in the federal government.

Again, an important distinction with a huge difference: “the government” is not just an amorphous entity that inhabits stately marble buildings, denies you access to certain empty plots of land and gives you a convenient address to send your taxes to. It’s comprised of people. A rich dead man’s wealth that succumbs to the estate tax doesn’t go to “the government”, it goes to particular people. Who then mete it out to other people. Whether any of those people are entitled to said wealth isn’t the issue here: the important thing is that the recipients and transfer agents of this forced largesse are humans with prejudices and biases.

There are plenty of characteristics that distinguish America from a world full of lesser countries (four-down football, the Imperial system of weights and measures, Hamer guitars, Holly Halston, bison, the republican form of government, concealed possession of firearms, the Amazon Kindle, etc.) But one that’s taken a hit in recent years is the absence of class envy. Ten years ago, the only place you could find resentment of rich people was in the sociology department at the University of California’s main campus. Wealth was something to aspire to, not to begrudge.

That was before the lines between the political class and the financial class blurred. Put a former Goldman Sachs chairman in charge of the Treasury Department, give him unfettered access to taxpayer money, let him funnel it to men who run corporations of sufficient size and political bent, then defend it with one of the most ludicrous statements issued by a president (:28), and it’s easy to see how rank-and-file taxpayers might get resentful or at least suspicious. Especially given that this miscarriage was perpetrated by the political party that ostensibly stands for small government. The subsequent and current administration doesn’t even bother to mouth such ideals, and can afford to be more dogmatic. And reactionary. And confiscatory.

The argument for the estate tax is that wealth shouldn’t be concentrated in a few hands, or we’d end up like Mexico, where conventional wisdom states that only 150 families or so own almost all the means of production.

But isn’t that just a judgment call? Say Larry Ellison died tomorrow (we chose him instead of Bill Gates or Warren Buffett, because Ellison is the richest guy on the Forbes 400 who hasn’t gone public with his intention to will most of his wealth to someone other than his kids.) Ellison is worth ~$27 billion, contingent on what Oracle stock did today. He has two kids and a (fourth, childless) wife. The wife presumably signed a prenup the size of Mount Whitney.

Is three heirs too few to enjoy Ellison’s wealth? If the answer’s “yes”, then how many should share in Ellison’s estate? All 300 million of us? Or the few thousands who would benefit indirectly were IRS agents to take $14.85 billion of that to distribute as they see fit?

It’s relevant, so perhaps we should mention that the author has no pig in this race. Nor does he believe that rich people are entitled to any fewer of the freedoms that middle-class and poor Americans accept as their birthright. The establishment and continuance of the estate tax puts government workers and legislators in charge of deciding who gets what. They might even be adept at this, that’s not the point. The point is that they should have no more right to award wealth than the person who created said wealth.

If Ellison dies on January 1, 2011, when the estate tax will presumably be reinstated, his heirs will be forced to sell controlling interest in Oracle. Which could mean the company’s eventual direction will fall in the hands of people without Ellison’s vision. Maybe irrationally motivated corporate raiders, maybe the agents of the federal government itself (why not? Go dig up General Motors founder Billy Durant and ask if he ever envisioned taxpayers “buying” his brainchild.)

The estate tax leaves us with perverse incentives. It can discourage family-run businesses from reinvesting profits, if doing so only will only accelerate the company’s eventual disassembly. This isn’t just a problem for Sam Walton’s kids, either. Almost all American farms are owned by families. You know, agriculture – the one indispensable industry that all the others derive from. The Department of Agriculture’s own employees – federal teat-suckers all – admit that as many as 10% of farms could soon fall victim to the estate tax.

But farmers aren’t rich. Why would they have to pay the estate tax?

They have to own a ton of capital to turn a profit. Farming is about the most labor-intensive, capital-intensive business there is. And the most critical.

More to the point, estates have already been taxed throughout their existence. It’s not like George Steinbrenner wasn’t sending tens of millions of dollars to the IRS every year to maintain his wealth in the first place.

Sure, Larry Ellison’s kids had no hand in creating his wealth. If that’s the criterion for deciding who doesn’t deserve it once he’s gone, who does deserve it?

**This post is featured in Tax Carnival #74: Labor Day 2010 Edition**

**This post is featured in the Carnival of Wealth #3**

He’s not overpaid. You probably aren’t either

The labor market's biggest bargain

 

This post is written in response to a fellow financial blogger who argues that

“(Pro athletes) are all overpaid in my view… they should be paid for performance… $100K base salary… if you play well, you make more. Play bad, and we take money from you.”

She (I’m assuming it’s a lady. I hope it’s a lady) isn’t the first person to take this position, nor the first to put standard English usage through a cheese grater, just the most recent.

Jim Irsay, who owns the Indianapolis Colts, pays Peyton Manning $14 million annually. For that, Irsay gets about as indestructible a force as there is in pro football, the linchpin of an offense that’s a threat to go to the Super Bowl every year. Before Manning got to town, the Colts were the laughingstock of the league and the franchise value nowhere near what it is now.

Irsay didn’t remain rich enough to own a football team by overpaying people. If having Manning around is worth $14 million to Manning, you can be sure it’s worth more than that to Irsay.

Here at Control Your Cash, we neither idolize Manning nor disdain him (same goes for any pro athlete.)  But what good would result from paying him a base salary of <1% of what he commands on the market? Would the author have the remaining 31 NFL owners collude and refuse to pay any more than that to an athlete who could enrich their teams by tens of millions of dollars?

Begrudging athletes their salaries is nothing more than jealousy – the same activities we grew up doing for fun, these people worked so hard to get proficient at that they can command lots of money. Meanwhile, I’m punching a clock, getting yelled at by the boss and trying to figure out how to pay the mortgage. It’s so unfair.

Even years after high school is over, the star quarterback still receives a mixture of adulation and envy. Besides, how do you “pay for performance”, anyway? Say you tie LeBron James’ salary to his scoring and rebounding averages. In other words, you’d encourage him to shoot every time he touches the ball, even when the game situation calls for him to pass: or you’re giving him incentive to always play close to the basket, rather than ever defend someone on the perimeter. And yes, let’s put a coach in a position where he can draw up plays that have a direct negative financial impact on certain players. That won’t cause any resentment.

So, you argue, pay athletes for winning. Then how do you determine how much of each victory each player is responsible for? Should a player who works so hard in a game that he injures himself risk further injury by coming back earlier than he should, just so he can get paid more? Maybe you could just trust that the majority of pro sports owners know what they’re doing. And the few stupid ones (like the guy in Minnesota who just signed Darko Milicic for $20 million) are engaging in an exchange that doesn’t affect you or me in any direct way.

Instead, take this as a lesson: for the most part, how much an employee gets paid correlates to how much he’s helping his boss get paid. The salesman is the standard example, because sales is so easily quantified: bring $x to the company, keep $yx for yourself where y is a number between 0 and 1 (a lot closer to 0.)

Do you want more money? Let’s do a flowchart:

If you’re salaried, it’s a little more convoluted. Sometimes it’s a case of determining how much it would cost the company to not have you around. Even a receptionist or a custodian provides some value, in that respect. (If either of those happen to be what you do for a living, don’t let anyone tell you that it’s a “non-revenue” position. Ask how much revenue your company would be amassing if the grounds were filthy and the phones unanswered.)

If you’re a cubicle toad, it can be harder still. Your humble blogger used to work as a $45,000/year advertising copywriter. For this, the ad agency got:

-550 collateral pieces (or as normal people call them, “junk mail and flyers”)
-887 headlines
-223 radio commercials
-34 television commercials
-11 long-form presentation pieces

In other words, the agency was getting the biggest deal since the guy who bought Manhattan from Peter Minuit*. That work output was what about 2.2 ordinary writers could have done in the same period. An ordinary writer got paid around $40,000 (if you want to find out these things, it helps to make friends with the girls in the accounting department.) So in return for the $5,000 “surplus”, said writer was leaving an additional $43,000 on the table.

The agency billed its clients over $25 million that year. $45,000 was hardly a fair representation of a prodigious writer’s value. It was more fair than paying Peyton Manning “$100,000 base salary” would be, but not by much.

The point of all this? Know your worth. 99.something% of salaried employees don’t. Your employer knows exactly how expendable (or valuable) you are. If it’s the former, you’re about to get fired. If it’s the latter, he’s in no rush to share the details of that information with you.

And if you’re in business for yourself, you get to transcend this entire stupid charade.

*Minuit got the island for $24, we all know that. But his heirs don’t own it today, right? He must have unloaded it at some point.