Shortcuts Are More Work Than They’re Worth

 

“Walton, why do you smell like my grandson’s bedroom?”

 

In honor of the late John Wooden, this week’s lesson is to work on your fundamentals.

There are two major ways to evaluate stocks: fundamental analysis and technical analysis.

Groan.

Stop whining. This isn’t difficult.

Fundamental analysis means assessing a company’s financial statements: taking the accountants’ work and reaching conclusions with it.

Technical analysis is the financial equivalent of astrology. It involves looking at how a company’s stock is performing – not how the company itself is performing – and using that to figure out what the stock will do.

Here’s an example of why that’s insane. This is what ExxonMobil stock did from July 3, 2006 to July 20, 2007:

If you remember, public sentiment at the time ran something like:

The oil companies are bleeding us dry!

They’re fixing prices!

They’re in cahoots with the Bush Administration, the Elders of Zion, the Illuminati and the Trilateral Commission!

What could possibly be a better investment for the short term than a monopolistic, chronic polluter with powerful connections and a product we can’t live without? Any room for me on that gravy train?

Here’s what ExxonMobil has done since then:

The scale on the y-axis changed, but not by much. What happened?

Centrifugal force happened. Public perception brought the stock up to a level it couldn’t sustain. Then reality set in and the stock got too expensive to attract new investors. In July of 2007, a technical analyst would have measured the angle of ExxonMobil’s rise and expected it to continue its northward progress. That same technical analyst wouldn’t reply to your emails today, assuming you could find him.

Most people who offer stock tips advocate some form of technical analysis. Why? Because it’s easy. It takes .12 seconds to comprehend a chart.

You’ve heard the disclosure phrase “past performance is not necessarily indicative of future results.” Aside from the inelegant use of the passive voice, the statement makes a lot of sense. When a stock picker uses it to keep things all nice and legal, you have to make a couple of logical connections to deduce the message, which is:

 

That technical “analysis” we sell? This statement renders it invalid.

 

Everything is cyclical to some extent, right? No stock consistently outperforms the market, because the numbers don’t allow for it. There’s a ceiling, and it’s lower than you think. If the stock of a company with a market capitalization of $20 million were to double every year, within less than a generation it’d outpace the nation’s gross domestic product.

Fundamental analysis means perusing the unglamorous, dry columns of numbers that accompany corporations’ annual reports. It means going through a few years of data and comparing last year’s net revenue numbers to the previous year’s. Determining whether a company’s net profits increased, or if there’s a good reason why they decreased.

“Picking” a stock in the conventional sense – i.e., figuring out which one is going to suddenly jump in value – is a bigger scam than keno. The established stocks – the Dow components, the companies with the largest revenue and profit numbers – are traditionally the stocks with the strongest likelihood of maintaining their value. But because they’re so big, it’s impossible for them to grow that much more. Any company on this list will probably halve in size before it doubles. For a sports analogy (ladies, I’ll make this as easy as possible), Gordon Beckham (.203) is far more likely to raise his batting average by 50 points than Ichiro Suzuki (.358) is. Market conditions prevent the frontrunners from gaining any significant value. It’s the laggards who make the biggest gains.

And suffer the biggest losses.

Continuing with the analogy, Ichiro’s batting average can afford to move 50 points in the other direction. But if Beckham’s does, he’ll be on either the bench or a bus to Charlotte in short order.

This is another place where we see how badly humanity assesses risk. It’s easy to look at the potential for profit, less so to even acknowledge the possibility of loss. From Gilbert & Sullivan’s Utopia, Limited, the librettist suggests that if you’re going to create a company, begin with a trivial market capitalization. Say, 18p:

You can’t embark on trading too tremendous.
It’s strictly fair, and based on common sense.

If you succeed, your profits are stupendous,
And if you fail, pop goes your 18 pence.

A sports analogy, followed by a theater analogy. There, now everything’s in balance.

What’s more likely to hit zero – a company that’s already made its way to consistency, or one that’s closer to being 18 pence away from “popping”?

Of course there’s value in the occasional startup company. If you can find them with any consistency, then please, write this blog for us. You can even rename it after yourself.

And remember: the next coach who tells his team “you need to work on your technicals” will be the first.

**This post is featured in**

The Carnival of Road to Financial Independence #21

and

Stock Carnival Ecstasy

Spare the reader, not the writer.

Earlier this week, the earnest and sincere Mariusz Skonieczny, a professional money manager, asked us to review his book, Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? It’s about how to properly value companies, and how to avoid investing foolishly.

The poor guy didn’t know what he was getting into, asking a stranger who happens to be a style martinet for a critique. At Control Your Cash, our primary passion is (obviously) personal finance. Our secondary passion is clarity. If we’re going to take it upon ourselves to communicate with you, we owe it to you to entertain and inform you. You can only blow 168 hours a week online, so we try to make your time here worth your while: something every content creator should take to heart.

ADDENDUM, 11:07 PM PT, May 24: I (Greg) posted this review a few hours ago. (I never write in the first person, so you know this is important.) The review might seem cruel in places, where I criticize Skonieczny for having a bland writing style. But there’s one little hitch.

Mariusz Skonieczny lives a couple of hours outside of Chicago, which of course is home to more Poles than any city outside Poland. Because he writes in fully functional English, I assumed he was 3rd-, 4th, or higher-generation Polish-American and that his parents, for whatever reason, chose to give him an ethnically authentic name.

No, Mariusz Skonieczny is Polish. As in, born in Poland and didn’t learn English until he was 16. And to look at his picture, he didn’t turn 16 all that long ago. His command of English is so good that it fooled me into thinking he’s a native speaker, and it’s unfair for me to expect him to write like someone with a lifetime of English idioms under his belt. In fact, Mariusz Skonieczny is the second-best Polish-born writer of English I’ve ever read. (Joseph Conrad is still #1.) So rather than rewrite the review, I’m mentioning that Mariusz Skonieczny has written a far better book in English than I could hope to write in Polish. Read this review with that in mind, and pay more attention to what I say about his book’s actual content. And to Mariusz himself, I apologize.

———————

Skonieczny runs ClassicValueInvestors.com, which offers a refreshing, conservative approach to money management. Skonieczny even admits that a disciplined investor should be able to chart his own path by reading and applying the advice in Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market?, without having to hire Skonieczny’s firm.

Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? begins with Skonieczny outlining his modest successes in the stock market. He doesn’t promise the reader 3000% annual returns or any such nonsense. Instead he explains that his portfolio preserved much of its value in 2008-09 while the Dow was losing most of its.

Skonieczny simplifies some advanced and often misunderstood concepts, including a fairly succinct explanation of how AIG got in trouble. He even manages to break down credit default swaps, which are about as easy to understand as Chinese manifold geometry. Skonieczny explains how a typical mutual fund can carry 100 stocks, something most mutual fund investors don’t give a second thought to.

Read Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? while wearing a hydration pack, because boy, is it dry. Like almost every book, Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? could have stood dozens of man-hours of editing. Skonieczny does credit a couple of editors, who hopefully didn’t charge him much. The book is simultaneously verbose and stilted.

It appears to be almost completely properly spelled (it’s “Standard and Poor’s”, not “Standards and Poor’s”), and largely free of grammatical errors (it’s “different than”, not “different from”. And “best” is a superlative, not a comparative.) Skonieczny’s math is perfect. But to paraphrase George Orwell, never write 8 words when one will do, and never write one when zero will do. Use the active voice. Most importantly, in instructive non-fiction, use the second person wherever you can. Don’t say “investors should”, say “you should”. Don’t say “shares should be purchased”, say “buy in”. Be direct. Eschew obfuscation. Each person who’s reading your book is doing so as an individual. One person. Write to him.

To read Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? you have to sift through sentences that were cribbed from a fifth-grader with a book report due the next morning, e.g.:

The railroad industry is important to the American economy.

and

The Internet is a great source for information

Come on.

Alright, enough on form, let’s talk content. Skonieczny makes valid points that deserve to find an audience. For instance, he laments that mutual fund managers will gladly remain aboard a sinking ship while logic dictates they should jump. They don’t dare get out of declining stocks and into the temporary refuge of cash, because investors will say, “I’m giving you 1½% of my money so you can do nothing with it? My bank can do the same thing, as can a pickle jar buried in my backyard.”

There’s usable information in Skonieczny’s discussion on how to value a company. Don’t buy overpriced stocks. Understand the strength of a business doesn’t always directly correlate with the strength of its stock. Skonieczny warns about “overdiversification”, a rare complaint that runs heretical to the way most money managers operate.

But the chapter on diversification runs only a page and a half. It does include one worthwhile piece of advice from the otherwise dubious Jim Cramer: namely that you study each company you own for an hour a week. (Not that you’re actually going to do that, but maybe if you think about it you won’t invest in a fund with too many components.)
The chapter entitled “When to Sell”, which sounds like it’d be worth reading, is even shorter. Brevity for its own sake is one thing, but you can distill that entire chapter into one of Skonieczny’s finest sentences:

The best time to sell is when projections turn out positive… and the market realizes (the company’s) full value by pricing it correctly.

Not highly, correctly. If you bought at a discount, then you profited.

In some passages Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? could have used concrete examples, instead of theoretical ones. Skonieczny says to beware of serial acquirers, which Control Your Cash seconds. He writes:

A CEO in pursuit of prestige and fame that comes with the size of the firm may engage in numerous acquisitions per year. Oftentimes, companies overpay for the acquisitions and waste capital in the process.

Like Sunbeam under Al Dunlap, or Atari under Nolan Bushnell.

Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? is intended for neophytes, which makes the book’s arrangement frustrating in places. For instance:

Companies may pay out a portion of their earnings in cash dividends

But Skonieczny doesn’t explain to whom, nor why. (Shareholders, and because they expect it as an income stream with their investment. Otherwise they’ll buy the stock of a different company that does pay dividends.)

Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? uses the acronym IPO in the introduction, but doesn’t explain what it stands for until a few pages later. Skonieczny does a similar thing with the concept of “share buyback”. It’s unclear how sophisticated he expects his audience to be. He explains that it’s smart to research company financial statements, then waits 80-odd pages to explain how to find them (under the “investor relations” section on most corporate websites. Or – and here’s a Control Your Cash free one – from AnnualReports.com.)

Skonieczny illustrates the power of compounding, something we beat like a rented goalie in Control Your Cash: Making Money Make Sense. One of his underlying arguments is that investors often miss obvious and self-evident truths. Summarizing here, he asks: “Given three businesses – one that returns 20%, one 2%, and one -10%, why do people invest with anything but the first?” Excellent question.

But some passages leave you scratching your head, e.g.:


(Yahoo! investors paid) $112 per share in 2000, but that year the company earned only 24¢ per share. This was a P/E ratio of 467. To justify that price, the company would need to grow at an incredibly high rate. Because the company grew its earnings per share at 8.76% from 2000 to 2008, it actually was worth approximately $4 per share in 2000.

Huh? Yes, Yahoo! was overvalued. But what does its EPS growth from 2000 through 2008, which no one could predict anyway, have to do with its 2000 share price? And how did he reach that $4 figure? If the answer was contained in the paragraphs that preceded that passage, we couldn’t deduce it.

Skonieczny name-checks Warren Buffett early and often. At the quarter-post he calls forth the ghost of investing’s other immortal titan, Benjamin Graham, reminding us that it’s a good idea to buy undervalued stocks. This is probably the most vital concept in the book. The second-most important is this:

Skonieczny explains how brokerage houses make money – not by getting you to buy growing stocks, but by getting you to buy stocks, period. He details how investment managers are rewarded counterintuitively, which bears repeating and which we’ll probably talk about in a future post. If an investment manager tries to sell his clients an undervalued stock that no other manager is touching, he runs the risk of that stock not immediately gaining value. Impatient investors will want out, and the manager’s boss won’t be happy. But if the manager promotes the same stocks his competitors promote, he can’t do as poorly by comparison. If a stock becomes large enough to become, say, a component of the Dow or the S&P 500, it will automatically become part of several mutual funds – making a fund manager’s job that much easier and giving him an opportunity to shrug his shoulders should the stock go static. It’s regression to the mean, fueled largely because human attention spans are so damn short.

To demonstrate the wisdom of businesses preferring internal growth to external, Skonieczny offers an original concept. He encourages you to “visualize (yourself) as a business”. A financially successful person, like a successful business, generates enough income that he doesn’t need to borrow.

Skonieczny shows how one industry hit particularly hard by the recession was RV manufacturing: the least damaged of the three major manufacturers watched its stock price drop by only 80%. He explains how it’s important to invest in “defensive” (recession-proof) companies in bad times, and why it’s dumb to invest in a stock the moment it hits the market. Or as Skonieczny puts it, “buy good companies in bad markets when everyone else is selling, and sell in good markets when everyone else is buying.” Or as we put it, “Buy assets, sell liabilities.”

Skonieczny breaks down case studies of real companies in detail in the book’s final chapter: Burlington Northern Santa Fe, the above-referenced Thor (Airstream’s parent company), Wells Fargo and Moody’s. But it’s impossible to get through Why Are We So Clueless About the Stock Market? without coming back to its awkward style.

(An ophthalmological machine) may cost as much as $100,000 or more.

Which means it could cost between $0 and $100,000, or it could cost over $100,000. It could cost anything.

The clichés are plentiful: for instance, Skonieczny makes a reference to the stereotypical occupation for smart people. (No, not “brain surgeon.” The other one.) One chapter starts with the crutch of “Webster’s defines _________ as…” Groan.

A tip for aspiring writers: don’t say “in the event of litigation.” Say “if somebody sues.” Speak clear, conversational English. Ditto for writing it.

Don’t chase the crowd. Don’t equate a business to its stock. Do your research, while other investors rely for their investment advice on alleged professionals who can’t even be bothered to do research themselves. Mariusz Skonieczny’s message is timeless and fundamental, it just takes him a while to convey it.

Goldman Sachs, and why should I give a damn?

Lloyd Blankfein, exhibiting the kind of manicure most of us can only dream of.

If you work for a living, especially if you do anything that gets your fingers calloused or makes you sweat, it’s easy to wonder what a financial services firm does aside from employ well-dressed people to shuffle paper.

Goldman Sachs is a financial services firm, one of the world’s biggest. An investment bank, if you want a slightly more limiting but descriptive term.

You have a neighborhood bank – e.g. Chase, SunTrust, BB&T. You deposit your paychecks there, withdraw cash, earn interest, maybe borrow money to buy a house or start a business. The bank makes money by charging more interest on its loans than it pays out to its accountholders.

Investment banks such as Goldman Sachs have better, more lucrative ways to occupy their time. Say a medium-to-large firm wants to buy another, or sell itself or a piece. The firm hires an investment bank to value the assets and liabilities involved, help with pricing and look for contingencies that the parties involved in the transaction might have missed (e.g. determining the rightful owner of certain assets, making sure that a legal transgression doesn’t render a transaction void.)

Investment banks do more than that, too. You probably know that some companies issue bonds to raise money – in other words, they borrow it from whoever’s willing to lend it. You can buy a bond issued by Johnson & Johnson for a little over $100, and receive 4.061% annually until the bond matures 13 years from now. It’s an investment bank that underwrites that issue of bonds – figuring out how much Johnson & Johnson should borrow and what rate to offer, then selling the bonds to brokerage houses that will in turn sell said bonds to their clients. The same goes for issuing stock, only in that case the investment bank helps determine the initial market price and the volume of the issue. After that point market forces (and in 2010 America, governmental suasion) take over.

Banks like Goldman Sachs also exchange currencies, millions of dollars (or pounds or pesos) worth at a time, to keep their clients liquid and protect them from inflation in whichever nation they happen to be conducting business. Of course, said banks take a cut. An investment bank’s clients also trust it to buy equities, bonds and commodities on its behalf, putting the clients’ assets to (presumably) efficient use instead of just having them sit around in cash that doesn’t earn interest.

Investment banks also create and manage mutual funds and pension funds, pooling different investments to create a meta-investment that you can buy into and hopefully preserve your assets in. Investment banks also manage assets for foundations, colleges and universities, and rich individuals and families. And occasionally, an investment bank will invest in a business itself. In Goldman Sachs’ case, everything from Las Vegas casinos to Chinese meat processing.

So while what investment banks do isn’t as tangible as what engineering firms or agribusinesses do, investment banks still serve a clear purpose that helps resources find their most efficient use, which is the whole point of capitalism and progress. This takes skill and experience. You wouldn’t hire a bunch of teenagers and pay them minimum wage to underwrite your next bond issue.

Investment banking is intellectually challenging, risky, and should offer commensurate rewards. And when the bankers make the wrong decisions – charging too low a rate of interest, buying a security whose price then tailspins – they should eat the losses.

Should.

In 2007 Goldman Sachs made huge profits on mortgage-backed securities, the investments made up of mortgage debt pooled and sold with the promise of interest. Lots of people defaulted on their mortgages, which made the mortgage-backed securities lose money. A couple of Goldman Sachs employees predicted this, sold short all the mortgage-backed securities they could find, and the company profited while other Wall Street firms got burned. However, Goldman Sachs created securities of its own that were dubious and difficult to value – including several whose underlying investment was home equity loans, which are always at a relatively high risk of default. Goldman Sachs stock went from a high of $234 in October of 2007 to $52 in November of 2008.

Around the same time, you helped out by buying $10 billion worth of Goldman Sachs stock. Because it’s your federal government’s job to keep investment banks viable, for some reason.

Greece is bankrupt, or close to it. For 11 years Goldman Sachs helped the Greek government fudge its numbers, allowing the nation to pile up debt that it now has to refinance to the tune of $11,500 per citizen. In 2009, Goldman Sachs received cash from U.S. government ward AIG in return for even more dubious securities. That’s cash that originated with American taxpayers. Goldman Sachs sold further securities (collateralized debt obligations) to investors, then bet short against them, the equivalent of Los Angeles Lakers owner Jerry Buss wagering on the Utah Jazz in their current NBA playoff series against the Lakers (which would pay 17/4 had he wagered before the series began.)

It’s those collateralized debt obligations that are the primary reason why Goldman Sachs is in the news. Goldman Sachs hired an independent firm (ACA) to review them, but allegedly never informed ACA about a hedge fund (Paulson) that wanted to short the collateralized debt obligations. Which would be fine, except Paulson helped select the underlying mortgages. Continuing with the Jerry Buss analogy, it’d be as if Buss hired a new general manager to release his entire starting 5 of Kobe Bryant, Pau Gasol, Ron Artest, Derek Fisher and Andrew Bynum, then signed 5 random New Jersey Nets to replace them.

The 2 Dutch firms on the other side of what became a billion-dollar loss are understandably miffed, and have taken their case to the Securities and Exchange Commission. Goldman Sachs argues that hey, we just bring buyers and sellers together and what happens after that is up to the market.

In a completely unrelated and independent development, Goldman Sachs employees and family members contributed more money to the president’s election campaign than any firm but one. Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein has visited the White House 4 times, which is 4 times more than you. Enjoy your work week.