The Best Investments Are Easy To Find. Assuming You’re Looking.

This is what money looks like.

This is what money looks like.

 

When’s the last time you bought a 900-to-1500 ft2 diatomaceous earth filtration unit? Alright, that question was kind of specific. So when was the last time you bought a diatomaceous earth filtration unit of any size?

We’ve talked before about the Barbra Streisand investing strategy, in which you buy the stocks of products you use. (Ms. Streisand bought Starbucks stock because “we go to Starbucks every day.”) Taken to its logical extension, this would result in an economy that consisted solely of consumer products, which is impossible. A vibrant economy, or even a moribund one, contains plenty of goods and services that facilitate the delivery of your marked-up coffee and your social networking sites. You never think twice about those background goods, but would have great difficulty living without them. So…wouldn’t it make tons of sense to at least examine the stocks of the companies that make them? Especially since relatively few people are already doing it?

Unless you live in Houston, and even then, you’ve probably never heard of Schlumberger. Even its name sounds hopelessly square, like a 1950’s-era retail store. (“Ladies, come to Schlumberger’s for wash-and-wear clothes in all the latest space-age fabrics! You’ll love the selection, and your husband will love our prices! Dial KLondike 5-1239 for business hours. Now accepting charge cards.”)

Except Schlumberger a) was founded in France (it’s pronounced shlum-ber-zhay’) and 2) is light-years removed from that. It’s the world’s largest oilfield services company. What does that mean?

Well, say you have a claim (or “prospect”, to use the appropriate jargon) on a patch of seafloor in the Gulf of Mexico. Underneath it are millions of cubic yards of hydrocarbons, ready to be converted into petroleum and related fluids. You have a vessel that can contain the oil, or proto-oil, but how do you get it through vertical miles of ocean and into your hold?

With a subsea landing string/electrohydraulic operating system, that’s how. Basically a telescoping tube that collects your paydirt and sends it up. But you also want it to verify that it’s properly installed, given that you can’t exactly slap on some scuba gear and determine so for yourself. And it’d be nice if you could shut it off automatically in an emergency, preferably without getting your fingers wet.

These ain’t cheap, as you can imagine. Nor are directional drilling motors, nor flexible cement that seals your well off from the rest of the ocean and keeps the fish from getting dirty. Schlumberger is just one company that does all of the above and much else, and the next time you complain about how much you’re paying at the gas pump you should think about the tens of billions of dollars in capital investment it takes to fill up your precious fruity Prius.

The point is that there’s a vast sea of hidden value out there – the bottom of the iceberg, to introduce yet another tired and oceanic-themed analogy. Enormous corporations that provide vital services and products, and that no one outside of the industry gives a second thought to. Schlumberger pulled in $42 billion in revenue in 2012, and that number’s gone up every year. Its profit margins are huge, especially given what a capital-intensive industry it’s in. Despite the best efforts of solar and wind advocates, there’s no escaping the truth that oil provides denser and more easily obtainable energy than just about any substance short of uranium. In other words, demand for Schlumberger’s customers’ products (and by extension, Schlumberger’s products themselves) won’t be reducing anytime soon. There are other oilfield services companies, but Schlumberger is the largest.

Do you now how many individual investors own Schlumberger? Fewer than 10,000. At $73 a share it isn’t cheap in absolute terms, but that’s down from its 2008 apogee. Price/earnings ratio is 18, on the high end for the industry but not insurmountable. And of course there’s a dividend, currently $1.25 per year. (Like most companies of its size, Schlumberger pays its dividend out quarterly.)

It doesn’t have to be Schlumberger. There are scores of companies that are hiding in plain sight, making hundreds of millions of dollars apiece and comprising significant chunks of the S&P 500 and other indices. AXA. Allianz. Cardinal Health. Or from our last post, McKesson.

Okay, great. But I have no idea how to do this.

Sure you do. Read the chapter on investing in our book. It’s at least as easy to get through as this post is. Pick up our e-book, the obtrusive ad for which you probably ignored and reflexively closed when you logged onto the site just now. Refresh and try it again, because there really is an unglamorous secret to riches. Several secrets, in fact. And you’re not going to find them anywhere that intersects with pop culture and lowest-common-denominator mass media.

We’re So Smart It’s Terrifying

Awful

Awful

 

Two years ago we wrote a post on the foolishness of getting caught up in topical and exciting initial public offerings. And this was back when Facebook was still privately held.

For the unsophisticated among you, yet another piece of knowledge that’s so obvious it’s easy to miss:

Your bank account understands only numbers. It doesn’t care about social buzz, popularity, trendiness, your Pinterest board, what Jay-Z has to say about diversification, or what your friends are doing (especially what your friends are doing.) That bank account is antiseptic and uninterested (disinterested, really) in your workaday concerns. It only sits there. It doesn’t even necessarily want to grow. Great if it does grow, but getting it to do so is your problem. Your financial balances don’t want to grow because they don’t want to do anything. They have no capacity for desire, nor any other emotion. And with respect to money, neither should you.

Seriously, what is the point of snapping up Zynga stock the moment it goes on sale? For a lot of people, it goes no deeper than “Here’s this product/service that I use, and now shares of the company that makes it are available for purchase. Therefore, I can take both figurative and literal ownership of it, and derive validation that way.” If it’s important for you to self-identify as an avant-garde shareholder, in tune with the New Economy, Business 2.0, stop reading. You’re going to hurt yourself.

Folks, we’re in this for one thing only. MONEY. It’s all that matters, at least for our purposes. Otherwise go find a personal fulfillment blog or one of those unreadable debt blogs instead. Here’s one to get you started.

Back to the summer of 2011. It was a simpler time. Prince William and the incipient Duchess of Cambridge had just moved out of their parents’ places and in together. South Sudan didn’t yet exist as an independent nation. Amy Winehouse still had a pulse. And Crumbs Bakery went public.

Our parents’ generation had little trouble discerning between Things of Importance (work, responsibility, knowing how to fix a carburetor) and Trivialities (self-expression, keeping your friends apprised of your hour-to-hour activities.) Cupcakes were on the latter list, and near the bottom.

We maintained that a business predicated on the creation and delivery of cupcakes was something better suited for prepubescent neighborhood girls than for a NASDAQ-listed company. Or for a NASDAQ Capital Market-listed company. (That’s the real NASDAQ’s developmentally delayed cousin.)

Crumbs went in the toilet, and quickly. It took 2 months to lose half its value, which it never regained. In fact, it took another 6 months to lose half its value again. It’s since lost yet another half of its value and then some, making Crumbs stock a Zeno’s Tortoise of sorts.

Why was this an awful investment? Well, we already told you way back then, but if you didn’t click the link:

  • The company expanded way too quickly. 
  • It doesn’t take a tenured college professor to determine that cupcake demand is pretty elastic. The lower your income falls, which it likely has if you’ve lived in the United States since Crumbs’ inception, the smaller the ratio of it you’re going to spend on sugary treats.
  • Barriers to entry? Any idiot with a pan and some non-stick spray can bake muffins.
  • You’re probably fat. Eat some celery instead.

Our recommendation instead was to invest in Crumbs’ antithesis. A company beyond uncool. There isn’t even any room for this company on the hipness continuum. You can’t savor their products, or even touch most of them. McKesson distributes wholesale drugs and medical supplies. And it sells clinical software to hospitals, too. Is that getting you excited? If not you, then how about the lifestyle editor at The New York Times Magazine? Did Sex & The City ever do an episode about workflow management for osteopaths?

McKesson is up 38% in the last year and a half, or about 12,800 basis points more than Crumbs. If we told you one of these companies would be bankrupt in a year – McKesson, which pulls in $122 billion annually; or Crumbs and its $14 million market capitalization, with operating expenses that eat up its gross profit and then some every quarter – which would you pick?

People like to think they want more money than they currently have. But in practice, lots don’t. The ones who dabble in investing, more properly dubbed speculating in their cases, mostly have motivations other than that of increasing their net worth. We aren’t completely sure what those motivations are, and we don’t care. The road to building wealth doesn’t have to be glamorous to be effective, and probably shouldn’t. If everyone’s talking about an investment, it doesn’t mean it’s worth investing in. It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s not worth investing in, either, but maybe you should use measuring sticks other than public natter.