1 tip for finding undervalued stocks

Recycle Friday! Featuring something we already wrote for someone else’s blog, but liked enough to eventually want back. Last spring this ran on Free From Broke. Today, we’ve updated it for a more mature audience.

1 Tip for finding undervalued stocks

Nah. Shop at the place next door, with the higher prices.

Why do people get excited when their favorite retailer holds a sale, but not when Wall Street does?

Let’s start with the obligatory disclaimer – this is not an encouragement nor a discouragement to buy or sell particular securities, stocks carry risk, consult a financial advisor but you don’t have to, etc.  That was for that infinitesimally small segment of the population that is a) literate enough to read this post, yet b) dumb enough to do whatever a disembodied online voice suggests.  There, now you can read the post absolved of any obligation to think.

Most investors know, in theory, that it’s foolish to buy at the top of the market and sell at the bottom. (Of course, human nature means that the opposite is true in practice – otherwise the top and bottom wouldn’t be where they are.)  But it’s equally foolish to assume that the market will carry you along indefinitely if you just buy a flat representation of it and don’t research at all.  We have 12+ years of real-world evidence of that.  Factoring in inflation, the Dow has risen by an average of .4% annually since February of 1997.  Your index fund would have been better off if it had collected tin cans since the Packers last won a Super Bowl.

There is such a thing as overdiversification. You might find stability in a comprehensive index fund, but it’s impossible to find any significant value.  Buying a basket of Dow stocks, or something similar like a Wilshire 5000 index fund, will likely give fantastic returns over an 80-year period.  If you plan on not waiting until you’re 115 years old to enjoy your money, there are more targeted ways to go about attempting to build wealth in the stock market.

Instead, look at companies that are temporarily wounded, i.e. whose stock sells at a discount. Earlier this year, when the global CEO of Toyota (NYSE: TM) was being grilled on Capitol Hill for selling cars to people who confused the brake with the accelerator, the company’s stock sank.  But some fleeting bad PR can’t negate a decades-long reputation for value and quality.  A few weeks after our demonstrative congressmen and senators finally pulled the curtain on their combination political theater/witch trial, Toyota stock had quietly gained 15%.

Around the time Toyota emerged from a bruising at the unfair hands of public opinion, British Petroleum (NYSE: BP) made Toyota’s problems look trivial.  BP traded at $60.48 the day the Deepwater Horizon spill began.  Today it’s at $36.52, a 60% drop.  The rig’s manufacturer, Transocean (NYSE: RIG), has fallen from $92.03 to $50.04 over the same period, a 46% decline.  Fortunately for Transocean, it’s in an industry with few players.  Also, most people had barely heard of it since it doesn’t sell directly to the public.  (When was the last time you bought an oil rig?)  This distinguishes Transocean from BP, which plasters its logo everywhere and goes out of its way to embed itself in the public consciousness.  Thanks to that insistence, almost everyone identifies the Gulf of Mexico spill with BP more than they do Transocean.

Both BP and Transocean have otherwise healthy financials that can normally withstand a one-time event. Then again, Deepwater Horizon is some event.  But a wounded company isn’t a doomed company: despite the Exxon Valdez disaster, ExxonMobil went from pariah to the world’s most profitable company in just a few years.  Johnson & Johnson rebounded after the Tylenol scare of 1982 and came back stronger than ever.  There are several ways to murder a company along with its stock: obsolescence (Atari), poor economics (General Motors) and rampant crime (Enron) are three of the most efficient.  But for a temporarily disabled company with a history of success and goodwill (in the general sense, not the accounting sense)?  A resurgence is more likely than you think.  Don’t confuse a broken bone with a bullet wound through the cranium.

One more time: there’s always value somewhere in the stock market, but very rarely can you make money simply by buying into the market as a whole.  In fact, the times when the market (as a whole) rises fastest are when the gains are most dubious and tentative – case in point, the dot-com bubble and ensuing crash.  More accurately, there’s always value in the stock market among particular entrants.  Finding the ones whose stock prices have suffered for no better reason than that of public perception is as wise a place as any to start.

The truth will imprison you

It’s Thursday! Rerun time. And today’s topic is how dishonesty can make you rich. Here’s a CYC vintage cross-post from The Writer’s Coin, updated for a modern 2011 audience with updates in red:

Here you go, American Greetings. Paid in full.

When is it OK not to pay a bill? (If you’re the Greek central bank, “Whenever it suits you.” Or foreclosed-upon homeowners, or the United States Secretary of the Treasury…)

Your humble poster automates whatever finances he can, setting and then forgetting the cable bill, the phone bill, the car payment etc. and freeing up time our ancestors would have spent reconciling statements and hoping that payments would post once checks had cleared.

Two weeks ago I received an email from…well, a company whose parent is based out of Cleveland and grosses $2 billion annually. I patronize this company only sporadically, but they make you buy an annual membership. Like a moron, I ignored the email’s unambiguous message that said my account would auto-renew within a week. (Months later, I honestly cannot remember what the company is. I’d be more than happy to disclose it – I’m fairly certain the statute of limitations has expired on the microfraud I perpetrated – but I haven’t a clue.)

A week later, another email. From PayPal, saying my account had been debited. (And there’s your answer, courtesy of a visit to my PayPal history: Blue Mountain, now a division of American Greetings.)

(Aside: What’s more nerve-wracking than an email from PayPal? For me it usually means I spent money for some legitimate purpose, sometime in the previous month, couldn’t recall what I bought and am only remembering it now.)

I’d automatically re-upped with the Cleveland company and was now on the hook for another 363 days. The price of the membership is nominal, but I shouldn’t spend money on something I can’t justify.

I called the company and spoke with its Interactive Voice Responder. “So you wish to cancel your membership? Please say ‘cancel.’ Thank you.” She confirmed my cancellation, but I still had to plead my case to a human to get the charges reversed.

Once I got a real person on the line, I got creatively dishonest and explained that I was out of the country and had left the job of canceling my membership to my girlfriend. (Because when you have to get something done, it’s always smart to wait until the last minute and put someone else in charge of it while you’re thousands of miles away.) And, as long as I was weaving fiction out of the ether, I mentioned that my girlfriend happens to have a thick Czech accent. (More lying.) And, on the day before the account was set to auto-renew, she attempted to cancel via the… Interactive Voice Responder. Yeah, that’s it. But she couldn’t, because…it couldn’t discern her heavily accented English.

(Editor’s note: lying is wrong and everything…but this is pretty funny)
(Agreed.)

I felt dirty doing this, especially when the customer service person bought my story without question. I didn’t have to defend my ridiculous charade even slightly, which left me wondering whether she was naïve or just couldn’t be bothered to treat me with the skepticism I deserved.

If you’re persistent, polite, and apologetic, you can weasel your way out of minor charges like this. Which gives you a second chance to use the money you thus recovered to buy assets and sell liabilities with. (Note: This method will not work with the IRS or almost any other federal government agency.) But it does bring up an ethical question: How wrong is this? There are degrees.

Did I receive a service and fail to pay for it?

No, unless you consider the 1½ days of membership that I received but didn’t use to be a “service”. Extrapolating from the company’s annual dues, I owe them about 6¢. Having me on the membership rolls for that period cost them a small fraction of that.

How big a deal are we talking about?

Using the traditional scorekeeping method of dollars and cents, almost nothing.

What burden am I putting on the other party?

6¢ divided by all that company’s employees? I’d have cost them more money if I’d shown up at corporate headquarters and asked to use the bathroom.

Is there a pattern?

No. I learned my lesson. Once was enough. (And it was. Haven’t done this since. Once in a lifetime was enough.)

Social convention dictates that we honor certain legal obligations and ignore others. Making the payments on your car falls into the former category—you can’t be surprised if your car with delinquent payments gets repossessed. Paying your mortgage used to fall in that category, at least before 2007. On the other hand, driving 4 miles an hour over the posted speed limit to keep up with traffic is hardly the kind of thing you should feel guilty about doing.

So is there a special circle of Hades reserved for deadbeats like me, or have I committed the equivalent of removing the tag from a mattress I don’t own? (Even the late Fr. Grescoviak of St. Basil’s, issuer of the harshest penances in all of Catholicism, probably would have let that one slide.)

Man of the Year 2010 update

He‘s gotten even smarter, which we didn’t think was possible.

Bob had 22 years left on a $148,000 mortgage at 6¼%. Knowing an opportunity when he saw it, Bob didn’t complain about how low interest rates are and how hard it is for banks to make a profit. Nor did he lament that his house had lost $115,000 from its inflated peak value (which, of course, is just a number on an appraiser’s calculator. Bob’s house gained value, albeit not very much, in one of the most brutal housing markets in America.)

He, and we, noticed how low 15-year mortgages had gotten. Bob refinanced, and next month will begin making payments on his new 15-year, 3¾% mortgage. He’ll save $200/month. But, there’s always a trade-off. In this case, it’s that he’ll now own his house free-and-clear 7 years earlier.

Wait – he pays less monthly, and repays the debt faster? Alright, maybe there is no trade-off.

Poor people, would you even have thought of this? Back away from tonight’s episode of Celebrity Disagreement and learn from the master.