Archives for August 2013

#MakeCollegeUnnecessary

Melvin's busy making spacecraft, but as soon as he's on his break he'd love to hear your analysis of heteronormative role play in modern media.

Melvin’s busy making spacecraft, but as soon as he’s on his break he’d love to hear your analysis of heteronormative role play in modern media.

 

Of course, it already is unnecessary, but try telling that to the liberal arts majors who seem to be providing most of the vocal power for the latest rallying cry/hashtag. No less formidable a force than the President of the United States has made “college affordability” his latest pet cause, arguing that the marketplace of education should be subject to something other than natural laws.

Things cost what they cost. Prices, with exceedingly rare exceptions, are inversely correlated to quantities bought. When the price of gas rises, it might not affect your own driving habits perceptibly, but one person in a hundred or a thousand is going to say, “Screw it, I’m taking the bus.” And if Chico’s decides to knock a few bucks off the price of its Magique pull-on ankle pants, they’ll sell more pairs to more fashionable if budget-conscious women. Raising prices means lower demand. Meanwhile sales (in the sense of “discounts”) increase sales (in the sense of “revenue”.) This is so obvious that pointing it out hardly counts as cogitation.

College was historically expensive, which is why a) for centuries, hardly anyone went and those who did were rich, and 2) in the last couple of generations, parents started creating college funds for their progeny. Save today, spend on Junior 18 years from now. It wasn’t easy, but supposedly nothing worthwhile is.

As a quantifier of how far we’ve advanced as a society, we’re reminded that university attendance is way up and that a larger ratio of our college-age colleagues are heading for tertiary education than ever before. This is supposed to be a pure representation of prosperity, akin to rising per capita income or declining infant mortality. In a future utopia, 100% of high school seniors will attend Harvard, Yale, or the safety school of their choice (probably Penn.)

What percentage of age-appropriate people should be attending college? Far less than do now. The evidence is overwhelming:

  • The college graduate who works at a retail job, far from being a tragic anomaly, has gone beyond cliché and turned into a quotidian feature of life.
  • Just about every personal finance blogger on the planet – i.e., people who think they have some sort of qualification for talking about money – carries tens of thousands of dollars in student loans and doesn’t even seem embarrassed by the situation.
  • Tuition has outpaced inflation by about 150%. We’ll explain why this is in a minute.
  • The most uncomfortable truth of all, for baccalaureate holders who want reality to be something other than what it’s currently constituted as: qualified blue-collar workers aren’t merely getting by, they’re prospering. Nor are they going into debt to do it.

Regarding the 3rd point above: when the federal government began the nationalization of education financing, that put downward (political) pressure on interest rates. After all, what’s the point of bureaucrats getting involved at the behest of our elected representatives if they can’t lower rates for the benefit of the voting public? Interest rates went from what the market would bear – i.e., where the lowest rate lenders were willing to offer matched the highest rate students and their parents were willing to pay – to something lower than that. Sallie Mae has no incentive to turn a profit in the same manner that independent lenders would, knowing that taxpayers can and will make up the difference.

The schools still operate with respect to the balance sheet, however. The University of Michigan might not be a for-profit venture in the same sense that DeVry or the University of Phoenix is, but the former still has an endowment to maintain and expenses to pay. Out of tuition and gifts mostly, and tuition monies are less subject to whim and variance than donations are. So…

If you’re a university, why not increase tuition far beyond its historic norms? You have tens of thousands of potential incoming students, all of whom have been convinced (or convinced themselves) that what you’re selling is indispensable. Throw a dead cat (its body donated by the biology department, where smart kids are learning marketable skills) and you’ll hit a professor (its body taking up space in the humanities department) who will argue that college education is a public utility of comparable import to electricity and water. The only difference is that the local power company is probably a mandated monopoly that’s forced by law to charge below-market rates that cover expenses and allow for a modest profit. Meanwhile, universities don’t operate under such constraints. If every university in the United States decided tomorrow to double its tuition, students would grumble, lead protests, wear Che Guevara shirts, listen to Rage Against The Machine, maybe even burn effigies of Richard Nixon, but they’d still get their parents to pay. Largely because they can’t see nor comprehend the price tags. I still have enough to pay for this week’s pot and hummus wraps, right? That’s all that matters. Besides, I don’t have to start paying back until I graduate.

Perverse incentives, again. Now you’ve just given Johnny Undergrad motivation for spending money and time on a master’s degree and deferring life even longer.

Debt will kill you, often creating a hole in 4 years that you can spend 8 times as long digging out of. It doesn’t matter: education remains a drug more desirable than the purest batch of crack. Maybe that’s the problem, a semantic one. “Education” implies a universal good, like “health” or “prosperity”. But education is what you get when you absorb and retain practical knowledge. Which indicates true education – knowing that Shakespeare intended Prospero to be an autobiographical character in The Tempest, or knowing that the duration of a vehicle’s spark line is based on total primary circuit resistance and coil voltage available?

Now, knowing which of those will remedy a weak fuel/air mixture and get someone’s car running smoothly? Okay, which of those can you learn only in an inexpensive community college or trade school? Finally, which will impress an employer (excluding deans of college English departments), and make a tangible difference in the world?

Stop complaining, and stop moving in a direction other than forward. When a significant portion of college students realize they’ll be better off elsewhere, those colleges will notice. When parents begin to acknowledge that the math will never pencil out on their daughter’s performing arts degree, purveyors of higher education will have no choice but to communicate more effectively to their clientele exactly what they’re getting for the money. And hopefully, our demagogues in charge will realize that the stated goal of higher enrolment shouldn’t be an end unto itself.

The Most Expensive Meal In The World

Our Italian forefathers would be embarrassed

Our Italian forefathers would be embarrassed

 

It’s one of the most overwrought axioms of personal finance advice, right up there with “Create an emergency fund” and “Buy generic.” Do this one and you’ll save Gaia while keeping your belly full, the ultimate dual objectives of parsimony.

Plant a garden! What could be easier or more rewarding? A little (free) photosynthesis, a little (practically free) water, and soon you’ll be consuming nutrients as Mother Nature intended, eliminating the middlemen – Monsanto, Walmart, and all the other baleful corporations that serve only to keep the downtrodden trodden down while tightening the screws on the customers.

That wasn’t our motivation, but we succumbed, anyway. If anything, we were trying to defy Mother Nature, see if we couldn’t make something grow in a region whose annual rainfall rarely breaks 4 inches. We started ambitiously, with tomatoes and peppers, eventually adding more modest crops such as mint and basil into the mix.

That was in late May. Furthermore, we cheated. We bought the Home Depot starter kit; potted shrubs instead of seeds. Several cubic feet of soil. Plus a shovel, a wheelbarrow, and a dream.

This is hardly news to anyone who’s ever tried a garden, and we’re running the danger of being Mojave Desert-centric in our description of the events, but hear us out. For 12 weeks we watered the plants daily – 3 minutes first thing in the morning, 3 more at twilight – marveling at their steady and measurable growth. We eventually shifted to automated sprinklers, but never forgot the painstaking work involved in turning on a hose and waiting patiently, twice a day. Doing so kept us grounded, and hopeful. Then around week 10, the plants bore fruit:

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There are 6 tomatoes on that bush. You might well have mistaken them for grapes. As for the peppers, or “capsicum” for some of our Commonwealth friends, may they rest in peace. Nevada, or our little slice of it, apparently being too arid or otherwise inhospitable for such feeble vegetables.

Hothouse round tomatoes cost around $2 a pound at the local supermarket. By our estimates, the tomatoes on our winsome little bush weigh less than a pound. And cost $48.11 in cash and maybe 10 hours in time. Including building the materials for and erecting our makeshift sunscreen (that slumping canopy, suspended on polyvinyl chloride pipe.) Mercifully, we have no weevils nor potato bugs in the desert. We do, however, have rabbits. And now the rabbits have the larval peppers. God know what they’re doing with them, other than laughing at our attempts to arm the perimeter with (irritating but non-toxic) mammal repellent.

To our fellow Americans (well, fellow North Americans) reaping, threshing and winnowing their way through the vast tomato fields of the San Joaquin Valley, this post’s for you. Thanks, and thanks for helping illustrate this lucid example of Adam Smith’s invisible hand in action.

Tomatoes, born on a farm. Protected from blight by wonderful, beautiful, life-enhancing pesticides. (For everyone but the pests, anyway.) Harvested by the myriad and transported to our shores at an attractive if not incomprehensibly low price. Economies of scale in full force. Joining with our millions of neighbors to indirectly farm out (hey-oh!) our tomato cultivation to the people who are really, really good at it benefits everyone. The producers make a living growing tomatoes, several orders of magnitude more efficiently than we could do it. The consumers don’t have to curse the elements and pray for rain while their tomatoes contemplate growing.

The garden was, and is, a vanity project. Alright, that’s not fair: it’s a hobby. And like most if not all hobbies, it makes zero economic sense. It’s not supposed to, and it never was. Your stamp collection isn’t a professional endeavor, nor is your fondness for working on cars. (If it was, it wouldn’t be a hobby and you’d be a technician.) If we were to have paid ourselves minimum wage while tilling the fields on our way to and from our air-conditioned home offices, and then sold our produce at an appropriate markup at the local farmer’s market, those tomatoes would go for about $98 a pound.

Wagyu beef, the authentic Honshu stuff, sells for $35 a pound.

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The point to be made here is that trading pennies for hours is a moron’s game. At the very least, it’s a moron’s game if you think you’re being fiscally prudent by playing it. The gains from our tomato-farming enterprise weren’t illusory, but they were largely psychological. We learned we can grow edible food, armed with only our implements, our guile and the head start of fully developed shrubs. We justified being out in the sun doing something other than cardiovascular exercise, yoga, or lounging by the pool. And during our lonely hours tending to our nano-orchard, we had time to contemplate our and our tomatoes’ place in the universe. Made the first draft easy to write, and half a revision later, here we are.

Carnival of Wealth, Sedona Edition

 

Cue the one-upping New Yorkers telling us how much prettier the rock formations in Lower Manhattan are

Cue the one-upping New Yorkers telling us how much prettier the rock formations in Lower Manhattan are

 

CYC has decamped to Central Arizona for the week, and unwittingly witnessed a conversation that segues into our first submission. Laying by the hotel pool, eyes fixed on our Kindles, we overheard the kind of boisterous people that such a milieu seems to attract. A tattooed bro in his late 30s or so, and his fat wife. Conversing – or to be more accurate, interrogating – every person around them.

“So where are you from? We’re from Phoenix.”

“So where are you from? I used to live in Oregon for 6 years, but I was born in California. Then I met him (points to tattooed bro) and now we live in Phoenix.”

And then finally:

“So where are you from? What’s that? Rome? Like Rome in Italy? Oh, no way! Honey, they’re from Rome! I’d love to go to Rome. I’ve never been to Rome. What’s your name? ‘Angela’? That’s a girl’s name in America. Oh, you said ‘Angelo.’ I’m sorry. I thought you said ‘Angela.’ That’s a girl’s name in America. So what part of Rome are you from?* Is this your first time in America? It’s interesting meeting someone from Rome because I’ve never left the United States.”

And that tore it. Again, this was a woman in her late 30s. Not only that, but she had lived in a state that borders another nation and is currently living in a 2nd such state. She also has enough money that she could afford to spend a couple of days at a resort that’s almost as far from her home as another country is. The idea of international travel seemed out of reach for this woman, unlike the crullers and bear claws at the breakfast buffet.

Barbara Friedberg wasn’t there, but she would have shaken her head at this woman’s limited view. Barbara recently traveled to Machu Picchu – a place pool lady probably couldn’t have found on a map – and didn’t vaporize her life’s savings to do so.

Our generation is spoiled to the point that we don’t even realize how achievable international travel is. Your grandmother might have crossed an ocean once, to get here, then never left. But several of our regular CoW submitters have each visited dozens of countries, often paying less to travel to Kigala or Columbo than it would cost to visit Miami. Open your eyes, see how Barb does it, and follow her lead. Or stay insular, whatever.

One of those peripatetic few is Paula Pant at Afford-Anything, who has visited more places than you ever will despite not yet turning 30. Paula didn’t come from money, but she knows how to make it and how to refrain from unnecessarily spending it. (Also how to invest it, but that’s a topic for another time.) Paula forgoes profligacy in some parts of her life (owning an unremarkable car, having roommates) so that she can hop on a plane to Amsterdam or San Francisco without blinking. Largely because she doesn’t squander money. In that respect Paula’s like Trent Hamm, except with a purpose. Well, she also writes beautifully, isn’t obese, is comfortable on camera, doesn’t terrify small children, doesn’t obsess over role-playing games and doesn’t make her own soap, either.

Here, we’ll continue with something cerebral and provocative, keep the dullwits from reading too far. The last baby boomers were born in 1964, meaning that sometime around 2080 they’ll finally, mercifully have gone the way of the Tasmanian tiger.  PKamp3 at DQYDJ.net says it’s inaccurate to credit (or blame) them for every demographic phenomenon, not the least of which is lower participation in the workforce.

For every dozen simpletons whose only understanding of debt is in the form of their monthly credit card balance, there’s one sharp cookie like Pauline Paquin at Reach Financial Independence who understands that borrowing money is almost a necessary condition for building wealth. She borrowed to finance investments and then, trapped in a corner by her conscience and her indebtedness, fought interminably to honor her commitments and keep her investments intact. Pauline says that the debt helped her in an indirect psychological way, too. Knowing that she had to pay back the money she used to finance her investments forced her to drive in a gear that she didn’t know she had.

Our most consistently mysterious contributor is Dividend Growth Investor, a model of efficiency who shares with us every week his** mechanism for building wealth via dividend-paying stocks. Even a company that pays an ever-increasing dividend has some amount of risk in its stock, so how does Dividend Growth Investor go about measuring that risk and working within it? You have to read his piece, but the gist of it is that a $1 drop in the stock price is often less important than a 10¢ drop in the dividend.

New submitter? A college kid who has $15,000 in student loans, is saving up for a $4000 engagement ring and a $5000 “wedding fund”, and who has an emergency fund? Oh, this is going to go splendidly. Jeremy Berretta at My Financial Road has a self-styled “savings problem.” This post is more of that 1st-person singular pronoun confessional stuff we’ve grown accustomed to, the kudzu that stains an otherwise pristine lawn, but Jeremy does have a sense of humor and apparently, some assets. We’ll call him a work in progress. Why he’s going to blow $9000 he can ill afford on a woman who excites his pants is too deep a problem for us to comprehend, however.

Advertising copywriter. Which, for effort rendered, was also the best paying. Harry at Your PF Pro asks his readers, including us, what the easiest job we ever had is.

Evan at My Journey to Millions is a personal finance anarchist, or at least he’d have us believe so from his latest post:

Most people discuss personal finance rules in absolute terms.  I hate it! I truly believe there are almost NO SET PERSONAL FINANCE RULES.  Rather, personal finances are well just that…personal

There are plenty of set personal finance rules, which are basically the antonyms of all the Anti-Tips of the Day we run in the right column. No matter what the endeavor, you need some structure. Beethoven’s worst symphony is objectively better than Train’s asexual caterwauling. Professional football is an institution, while professional dodgeball doesn’t exist. Organization even carries over to crime: Mafia dons lead better lives than street punks do.

Michael at Kitces.com discusses Monte Carlo retirement projections, the response to a previous generation’s less sophisticated insistence that the path to retirement follow a well-defined line. Instead, offering a range of possibilities with corresponding likelihoods makes far more sense.

Finally, Man of the World and chronic overachiever Jason at Hull Financial Planning reminds us that we’ve hardly touched on annuities in the too-long history of CYC. Yearly fixed sums for life? To paraphrase Jason’s synopsis of his own work, Dr. Wade Pfau, CFA recently published research showing that it’s possible to mathematically replicate or improve upon overall net worth performance of annuitization through increasing stock holdings a few years after retirement. But, as [Jason and CYC] have discussed, personal finance isn’t all about math. Research from RAND and from a longitudinal study of retirees in the UK shows that retirees who have annuities and pensions, all other variables held equal, are happier than those who don’t. So what’s the psychology behind why it’s better to make a slightly mathematically suboptimal decision in purchasing annuities (SPIAs or single premium deferred annuities only…don’t want to line salesmen’s pockets) than to take a crack at leaving behind a little more money the Pfau way?

Hold everything: one more. Apparently Wade Pfau’s been a common topic among our more enlightened submitters. Michael at Financial Ramblings shows the calculations behind Professor Plau’s work that suggests the optimal savings rate for a worker who wants to neither defer too much spending (thus being overly frugal in the present) nor have too little saved for retirement (i.e. too much life at the end of the money.) Not only that, but that optimal savings rate is calculated to 2 decimal places.

Thanks again. We’ll be back tomorrow.

 

*Which hill, you mean? Who cares?
**That he’s male is about the only thing we know about him.