DOW GAINS .0000000000000002%

Alright, we took a little decimal license with that one. The actual headline that appeared on Fox Business Network’s After The Bell was “DOW GAINS .02%.” It should have appeared on WGSC, better known to Howard Stern aficionados as “the Who-Gives-A-Sh*t Channel.”

This is all noise, zero signal. Every daily change in the Dow is. Even the historic ones are. Every daily change in just about anything is.

As self-aware humans, we plan. That’s largely a good thing. The act of, say, enrolling in college happens with the understanding that 4 or more years down the road, and decades beyond, it’ll start paying off. Even the simpler act of planting a tree is done with a nod to a future that the planter might never be alive to see. Having kids goes on this list too, of course.

Yet for some reason, when regarding the stock market, we become mayflies. It’s as if we’re thinking, “But if the Dow fell 20 points this morning, how am I going to be able to retire at 7 p.m. and live off my investments from then until midnight?” If you want, you can blame the journalists for this: they have to talk about something, and the stock market is pretty much guaranteed to close at some level on every day that it’s open. (Curiously, the days that the Dow doesn’t close at any level are the truly newsworthy ones. 9/11, for instance.)

There’s too much information in every realm, not just finance and business. The only parts of the daily news that always contain legitimately important and timely information are sports and weather. The fluctuation in Archer Daniels Midland stock or the price of gold means nothing to the average investor over the course of a day, a week, a month, even longer. To illustrate the point, here’s the market level at yesterday’s close of business:

5 years

No, wait. This is the market level at yesterday’s final bell: 1 day

Oops. Sorry. No, it’s this:

5 day

Wait wait wait wait wait. Swear to God, this is it:2 years

In ascending order of length, the periods represented by these graphs are day, a week, 2 years and 5 years. But do you have any idea which is which?

(Answer: 5 years, a day, a week, 2 years.)

We removed the numbers on the vertical axis, and there’s no sense of scale, but that’s not the point. Whether you believe in a “permanent bull market” or not, a continually rising line isn’t visible in any of these charts. The 1-day changes seem considerably less abrupt than the 1-week changes, which would be unlikely in a rational world.

Tune out. Here’s a challenge, with absolutely no reward from us if you meet it: examine your portfolio no more than quarterly. Some wags would replace “quarterly” with “annually”, but we’re not at that level quite yet. What happens hour-to-hour is of zero consequence, and what happens over a period of weeks isn’t much more critical.

Look at other investments, ones whose price isn’t as easy to calculate. You bought your house in the hope that it’ll appreciate in value, right? If your $150,000 three-bedroom gets assessed at $149,703, what are you going to do? Sell sell sell? Pray for a bump? Or live your live confident that your house is an asset with a permanent tangible value, and that should you ever want to sell it, today’s prices will bear no relationship to those future prices?

Unplug. Read a book. Play with your kids. Go cycling. Whatever you do, don’t fool yourself into thinking that exposure to an onslaught of financial information is necessarily going to educate you. While you’re at it you ought to stop reading other personal finance blogs and just concentrate on this one. And read it largely for entertainment. (Which makes it sound as though our advice is unserious or unimportant, which is untrue. We meant entertainment in the literal sense: be entertained, while absorbing subject matter that can often be dry depending on who’s presenting it.)

It’s a cliché, but a valid one: for the most part, you make your money going into an investment, not out of it. Buy undervalued assets, and wait for them to appreciate. A stock bought at the top of the market – for example, Enron at its localized zenith – is not an undervalued asset. For a more contemporary and less notorious example, take Amazon, which is close to its current (and all-time) peak of 276½ or so. A fixation on short-term movements, no matter how drastic, will rapidly drive you insane. Considering your presumed lifespan, you want any eventual insanity to manifest itself as slowly and methodically as possible.

The average daily movement in the Dow is less than .026%. Or as CNBC might put it, “DOW UP .026%!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Journalists, even financial ones, are not renowned for having perspective. You’re smarter than that.

Optionality. The Choice is Yours.

"I've got an 83% chance of staying alive! Those are great odds."

“I’ve got an 83% chance of staying alive! Those are great odds.”

Don’t make dumb bets.

We recently read Antifragile, the latest from iconoclast and self-described flâneur Nassim Nicholas Taleb. If you’re unfamiliar with Taleb, he’s most famous for writing the predecessor to Antifragile,a book called The Black Swan. Its main argument is that there are certain events that defy prediction and that you can’t do anything about, other than minimize your risk of exposure to their negative effects (if any) and maximize your risk of exposure to any positive ones. The title derives from the Australian bird of the same name, which Europeans discovered in the late 17th century, thus destroying the part of their worldview that held that swans are definitively white.

This isn’t a review of Antifragile. (Alright, here’s a review: Buy it, then read it slowly and repeatedly.) However, today we are concerning ourselves with one of Taleb’s fundamental recommendations: Put yourself in situations where the potential for a great reward is offset by the potential for a small loss, and avoid the opposite scenarios. If you need a concrete example, Taleb suggests that you should live in a big city. (He lives in New York.) That way you can increase the likelihood of having random encounters with people who can benefit you. Go to enough cocktail parties on the Upper East Side and you’ll find someone who can look at your business proposal, or at least put you in touch with someone who can.

On a macro scale, Taleb cites federal government intervention in the economy that’s always done with the promise of a (modest) benefit, yet invariably ends with (unanticipated, gigantic) costs. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac will serve as the definitive examples of this until something greater and more destructive comes along. Single-payer healthcare, maybe. The temptation to take the path of least resistance, when resisting can result in disaster, never enters these bureaucrats’ vacuous heads.

Which brings us to a real-world example of our own experience. Last summer, your humble blogger got a speeding ticket. 40 mph in a 35 zone, on a moderately used divided 4-lane road that’s flanked by a series of car dealerships. Shortly after they’d closed for the day. Meanwhile, not 100 yards away on the nearby U.S. highway, several drivers were cruising in the passing lane and thus driving far more dangerously than anyone driving in excess of 5 mph in a commercial zone would be. But we digress.

The ticket is exorbitant. $205, but the very act of going down to the county court house and acknowledging receipt of the ticket will knock it down to $140 and a non-moving violation (i.e., no harm to the driver’s record and no disclosure to the insurer.)

Or we could fight it. Which carries a potential risk and a potential reward. Let’s see what a rational person, or at least a Taleb reader, should do in this situation.

Choose not to go to court, and we’re looking at a certain debit of -$140. So that’s our baseline. Proceed on the most conservative path possible, the equivalent of buying T-bills, and that’s how much we’ll be out. So let’s consider that $140 an all-but-irretrievable sunk cost, and proceed from there. What happens if we fight the ticket? There are 2 possible outcomes:

  1. Not guilty/case dismissed. Net gain, +$140.
  2. Guilty. This one’s more complicated. The fine will be for the full amount of the ticket, $205. A guilty verdict also means 1 point on the license, which, as best we can estimate, will result in a 15% increase in premia over the next 3 years. That’s about another $500, ignoring the time value of money. Sum it and that’s a net loss of $565. (Remember that we’ve already accepted that we’re down $140 by doing nothing and paying the reduced fine already offered by the court.)

So by taking the risk of going to court, one of 2 results will happen – a $140 gain, or a $565 loss. Neither of which mean anything without examining our chances in court.

Our case is less than airtight. We did everything you’re supposed to (take video of the crime scene, come up with a list of questions to ask the officer, and then request one continuance after another), but we’ll be going up against an officer who’s so diligent that he went to the trouble of writing the radar gun’s calibration data on the ticket. He’s been on the force for 6 years, has already been an officer involved in an officer-involved fatal shooting, makes 6 digits a year and looks about 19 years old, so the likelihood of him having retired before the court date is slim. If he gets 3 weeks of vacation a year, the chance of the trial happening during one of them is about 6%. If he shows up, we can pencil in an L.

Our research indicates that officers show up for similar cases at least 60% of the time, and we could probably jack that up a few percentage points. So that’s a reduced chance of winning (enjoying a $140 gain), and a substantially greater chance of losing (incurring a $565 cost.) Even a lottery ticket, though its odds are atrocious, offers a huge payoff balanced with a tiny cost. Fighting this speeding ticket offers the opposite.

We’ll be contacting the prosecuting attorney and writing our $140 check tomorrow.