Don’t You Want To Protect Your Family?

"This is the accelerated benefits rider, this is the waiver of premium clause, and over here we have OH GOD JUST KILL ME NOW"

“This is the accelerated benefits rider, this is the waiver of premium clause, and over here we have OH GOD JUST KILL ME NOW”

 

Now that we’ve gotten Wednesday’s cash grab out of the way, a question that’s puzzled us for years:

How the hell do life insurance agents make money? This ties into one of our Supreme Commandments of Personal Finance (we can’t say “10” because the number changes, and besides it’s probably closer to 3):

Always look at each transaction from the other party’s perspective.

If you’re buying, what does the seller stand to gain from this? Is he (it’s a guy in this example) making enough on the sale to vacation in the Bahamas for a month? Or is he working for The Man, and merely avoiding getting fired for another pay period by getting you to buy a country club membership? In other words, how much wiggle room does he have?

Conversely, how much will the buyer benefit from what you’re selling? Obviously, you’re not going to keep a tally for every single transaction in your life, or you’d never do anything else. Your purchase of a 99¢ Big Gulp® at the 7-Eleven is not a staring contest between Southland Corporation’s predatory pricing and your hard bargaining. But be pragmatic. A) Don’t leave money on the table, and 2) Know when to walk away from a deal, because there will almost always be another one.

Back to our mystery. With no bipedal dependents, we at CYC Headquarters are long past anyone trying to convince us that life insurance is a good investment. But tens of millions of other people do spend money on life insurance, and are convinced that doing so is the only thing preventing their offspring from ending up in an orphanage, in a poorhouse, as a stowaway on a merchant ship, or as part of some other Dickensian relic.

We went to MetLife’s website, plugging in the numbers for a 40-year old male in “great” health (the level between “excellent” and “good”) who doesn’t suck on those filthy disgusting cancer darts. The site prompted us to select a state of residnecy, so we chose the nation’s most populous. A million-dollar, 20-year term policy for a Californian costs $106 a month. The agent gets, say, 15% of that. So, $16. For maybe a couple of hours’ work. Of course, selling life insurance policies isn’t quite like selling Girl Scout (or for our Canadian friends, Girl Guide) cookies: the standard inclination is not to buy, and to avoid the salesperson if possible. Assume a generous lead conversion rate of 10%, and your typical life insurance agent appears to be working for far less than minimum wage. At least recyclable soda can collectors can show up to their daily grind in something significantly more casual than Western business attire.

Except our commission estimates were miles off. A professional connection of ours explains that the scale is anything but uniform. In fact, it goes more like this: 75% in the 1st year, 10% in the 2nd, then 0. Clearly, the agency can afford to be so generous to the agent on the front end because at any given time, only 5% of 20-year policies are in their 1st year. (We used math for that.) Still, average it out over the life of the policy, and the commission structure still seems pretty skinflinty. On the other hand, front-loading it saves all but the lowest-performing rookie agents from starving to death.

A declining commission schedule means that the pressure to sell is never not there. Residuals and royalties are for musicians, not for insurance agents. The idea of selling a policy and enjoying its commission in perpetuity, or at least for the life of the policy, doesn’t exist. While other industries (Wall Street, the military) can afford to bring as many unproven recruits in as possible, allowing for plenty of attrition while a small fraction of those recruits make a long career out of it, life insurance don’t play that way. Hiring fresh college graduates no longer makes economic sense. Rather, the trend is toward hiring established, middle-aged financial professionals with impressive client lists and a penchant for estate planning. Which is probably better for all concerned.

All in all, hawking life insurance still sounds to us like a stupendously difficult way to make a living. Add that to the list of real jobs that we’d rather die than do. Not that anyone reading this was necessarily contemplating becoming an insurance salesperson, but at least we have a better grasp of how an occupation that seemingly makes no financial sense, does. To some extent. Our formula for building wealth remains unaltered: the more sources of passive income you have, the less you’ll have to rely on your own ability to perform the mundane. Monthly rent checks and quarterly dividends beat monthly pittance commissions, at least in our admittedly biased world.

The Name “Affordable Care Act” is 33% Accurate

Adding a little kid to a bill signing makes it 236% more adorable and OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT HIDEOUS ABOMINATION BETWEEN HARRY REID AND MAX BAUCUS KILL IT KILL IT WITH FIRE

Adding a little kid to a bill signing makes it 236% more adorable and WHAT IS THAT GROTESQUE ABOMINATION BETWEEN HARRY REID AND MAX BAUCUS KILL IT KILL IT WITH FIRE

It’s definitely an act, as opposed to a legitimate attempt to reduce bureaucracy and thereby reduce costs in what used to be a faintly uncomplicated sector of the economy. In fact, the bureaucracy the Act creates is staggering in its depth. It not only makes private health a public concern, but places the mandatory purchase of insurance under the purview of the Internal Revenue Service. Buy coverage or pay a fine. In other words, You’re going to be covered, and you’re going to like it. Do we make ourselves clear? 

How do an ostensibly free people get collectively subjected to such a mandate? Not without substantial effort on the part of a political class committed to see its social agenda enacted. In several steps:

1. Come up with a baseless allegation, quantify it, but do so in such a way that it can’t be disproven, e.g. “47 million Americans don’t have health insurance!”

Many Americans go their entire 20s without health insurance, because it makes economic sense for them. For the tiny likelihood of a young man or woman falling off a cliff and needing $500,000 in treatment, it can be a perfectly rational decision to forgo spending the few thousand dollars in premia.

Furthermore, the few policies available in the oligopolistic market offer little in the way of choice. It’s inefficient for insurers to offer perfectly individualized policies, which leads to semi-generic policies that include maternity coverage for single men with vasectomies. To say nothing of contraception for groups of exceedingly post-menopausal celibate women.

Pay for something and get add-ons that you not only didn’t want but have no possible use for? No thanks. After all, this is a society of people who have petitioned Congress to introduce bills that prevent cable companies from selling packages with superfluous channels. Yet there’s little momentum to prevent something similar in the insurance market. Americans would rather pay for unnecessary drug rehabilitation coverage than pay for unwanted Azteca America and RFD TV

2. Sell the allegation as a flaw in the status quo, a wrong to be righted, rather than the cumulation of personal choice.

It’s not as if most of those “47 million” have ever been prohibited from buying health insurance. They just choose not to.

Again, personal choice, if that isn’t an outmoded concept. Forcing health care coverage on everyone, and artificially flattening the prices, gives incentive to otherwise irrational behavior. As the Roanoke Times recently put it,

[Y]oung and healthy people must pay into a system that would otherwise be overburdened with the costs of treating the older, sicker population

Avoid the short-term decisions that will result in diabetes, heart disease, cirrhosis or something else life-threatening down the road? Why bother? An uninsured rational agent today has tremendous implicit encouragement to not be rash. The forcibly insured rational agent of 2015 does not.

3. Take the allegation to its logical extreme and appeal to emotion. “97-year-old Ida Cruikshank of Ames, Iowa has spina bifida and stage 4 lymphoma. You want to throw her out on the street?” If it means impoverishing the rest of us, sure, why not?

4. Stand economics on its head, and this is the complicated step.

Obviously, a little kid with hydrocephaly is going to cost tons to insure. There’s no way an insurer can make money off a policy underwritten for such a patient, so it makes no sense to offer said policy.

Begin with that moral imperative, that overarching objective – Health care coverage for all, at all costs (the dependent phrase there spoken softly) – and find a workaround. Here’s a conversation that doubtless happened between the ruling class and the heads of various insurers. We don’t have the transcript handy, so our reenactment will have to do:

Anthem CEO: We can’t write policies that we know will lose money.
White House: Yes, but you’re not going to lose money. Listen to this.
Okay, you’re going to lose money on a few policies–those of the uninsurable we mentioned above–by charging below-market rates. HOWEVER, what if we more than made up for it by forcing tens of millions more people, perfectly healthy people, to buy your product? Then…
Anthem CEO: [eyes light up]
White House: You can charge whatever you want, pretty much. Triple market rates, quadruple market rates, knock yourself out. You will have the power of federal law behind you. And don’t think we won’t enforce it.
Anthem CEO: This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Don’t believe the journalists. Here’s the money quote from the Department of Health & Human Services’ own website:

[I]nsurers can no longer deny coverage to children because of a pre-existing condition, like asthma or diabetes, under the health care law. And beginning in 2014, health insurers will no longer be able to charge more or deny coverage to anyone because of a pre-existing condition.

Name another commodity for which this makes a lick of sense. The people who are going to consume the most resources will pay as much as those who will use the least (the department said in unambiguous language.) If there’s a fundamental difference between this and, say, a mobile phone service provider charging its international roaming customers no more than it charges the customers who never make non-emergency calls, we’re too stupid to find it.

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.