Fixed-rate mortgages are boring. Get something fun instead!

Welcome to Recycle Friday. This week, a post that originally ran on LenPenzo.com, updated for posterity.

If this page appears in your mortgage document, RUN. Also, mortgages shouldn't have sines and tangents in them

Should you walk away from your mortgage just because your home depreciated?

So you refinanced. Or bought too much house. You divided the mortgage payments by your income, and decided you could swing something a few percentage points higher than the recommended 25–33 because the market was rising and your house would make you rich just by existing.

You relied on speculation as an investment strategy (not even your own speculation, but other people’s.) But your house got cheaper, maybe cheaper than what you bought it for. That’s called “losing money on an investment,” which happens all the time, but people think it oughtn’t when your bedroom and kitchen are part of the investment.

The market might bounce back. If you’re 7 years in, lots can happen in the remaining 23 on a 30-year mortgage.

When you lose money on a stock, your brokerage account might get wiped out, but no one will see the evidence of this except you. Owe more than your vehicle is worth, and it might get repoed. Fine, tell people you sold it and always wanted to ride the bus instead. But stop making payments on a house, and there’s a letter from the constable on the door, maybe some yellow tape involved – hard to keep that quiet from the neighbors. Also, people getting forcibly removed from “their” houses (it’s yours and not the bank’s only after you pay the entire mortgage) make for striking photo and political opportunities. After all, bankers are evil. Meanwhile, it’s the working stiffs just trying to make ends meet who get raked over the coals. (Wow, a sentence composed entirely of clichés. Mike Lupica approves.)

Some people who make enough to cover the mortgage dump the house anyway – the strategic default. They assume investment values only move in one direction. According to Experian, that includes 20% of defaulters.

This is hiding behind the law. Stop making payments, and it’s not like you’ll be evicted that week. It takes months, even years. The idea here is to take the mortgage payments and put them toward, say, your credit card balance, figuring the lender will gladly renegotiate a contract you signed in order to get some sort of return on its investment.

Some borrowers think this is fine because if the lender kicks you out, it’ll be tough to sell the house to someone else in a down market anyway. The lender at least wants the house to stay lived in.

This is nonsense. Strategic defaults hurt everyone.

A strategic default does to your credit score what Michael Vick did to underperforming fighting dogs. You’ll never be able to borrow either a) again, or b) until Congress and the White House decide that so many people need to improve their credit scores that it just wouldn’t be fair to let some insidious little 3-digit numbers have such power over those people’s lives.

What’s the solution? Well, no politician of either party wants the other accusing him or her of standing by while old ladies and cripples are being kicked out of “their” houses. The government would then essentially renegotiate mortgage contracts, setting caps on future ones and insisting the lenders take less. Under this type of forced renegotiation, the borrowers don’t even have to sack up and face the lenders themselves.

Besides, co-workers, professors, and the blonde lady on TV say defaulting is fine. And for PR reasons, lenders are hunting down deficient borrowers about as aggressively as the feds go after illegal immigrants.

Say you walk away from your mortgage, mail your keys to your lender, then rent somewhere. Your now-former neighbor follows, then a third. No matter how swank a neighborhood you deserted, the lawns turn brown and the pools green because no one’s living in the houses. Which reduces the value of the remaining houses. Now the people who stayed behind and haven’t (yet) defaulted watch their homes’ values decline. Which means they’ll likely owe more than their houses are worth, making it more likely that those folks will default. Continue like this, and you end up with…Detroit.

When you declare bankruptcy, you can renegotiate to protect yourself from creditors. But strategically defaulting is the opposite – you keep all your assets except the house and mortgage.

So what to do? Four choices:

1. Man up, economize and make your payments. You’re obligated to the lender, yourself (to preserve your credit), any kids of yours (unless you don’t think you need to set an example) and society. If you steal from your lender, it doesn’t directly affect the rest of us, but it makes civilization incrementally more difficult to live in—the broken window theory.

You don’t like that answer? It’s a house, for crying out loud. You need somewhere to live. No matter how much value it loses, it’s still better than renting and never building a dime of equity. Stop assuming that because your $100,000 house lost 10% of its value last year, it’ll lose a similar amount next year and by 2022 will be worth -$10,000.

2. Short sale. If you know you can’t make your payments, and you’ve exhausted every possible way of earning or otherwise securing money, call the lender and come clean AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. The lender will sell the house at a loss, just to get you out of there and collect some money. You’ll still be on the hook until the bank resells the house, but that won’t last forever and at least you can stop throwing good money after bad.

3. Ask for a loan modification. It’s begging, but your pride already left a while ago.

4. The Deed in Lieu of Foreclosure. Tell the lender, “Look, I can’t make the payments. Let’s not short sell, I’ll just give you the damn thing to get out of this suffocating debt.” This hurts your credit rating the least, and tells the lender not to worry about you being one of those evictees who pours concrete in the toilets and makes off with the copper wire.

And next time, get a vanilla 30-year fixed-rate mortgage.

**This post is featured in the Totally Money Blog Carnival-Valentine Edition**

Renting is for mental patients.

America's cheapest house

3 bedrooms, 1 bath

19429 Albany Street, Detroit (like it was going to be in another city)

$20.

That is not a typo.

But it’s been on the market for 3 months, so you should come in around $16.

This country still doesn’t get it. Home prices have decreased to the point where it’s no longer a case of building equity, but of deciding how much profit you feel like eventually making.

A child can understand this, but sometimes the sophistry of years makes people stupid. Here it is in handy equation form:

“Low prices” = better for the buyer (That’s you.) Furthermore, a lower price means less risk. And a greater potential rate of return. The only thing that could make the housing market better (for buyers) would be if we could somehow figure out a way for China to build cheap houses and dump them on the American market.

That last pair of parentheses contains more than just a couple of words. It contains profound insight.

You often hear that the “______ market” (housing, jewelry, car, fine art, tourism) is “bad”. Or “good”.

There’s no such thing as a “bad market”, nor a “good market”. There are only large markets and small markets. Either there’s a large demand for and/or supply of a good or service, or there isn’t. “Good” and “bad” are loaded adjectives that don’t tell you a thing about the magnitude of a market. Somewhat obviously, to the extent to which a market is “good” for buyers, it’s “bad” for sellers, and vice versa. A “bad” housing market – according to the intellectually lazy journalists whom the gullible general populace looks to for guidance – simply means one in which prices are low.

If it’s welcome news when Best Buy or the Apple Store lowers its prices, why on Earth would it be unwelcome news when the population looking to get out of their houses does the same thing?

“Well, because houses are more important than mere consumer goods. A house is the American Dream. It’s one of the three basic necessities. It’s your refuge, your castle, your…”

Look, if you want clichés and platitudes, there are hundreds of other financial blogs that you can read, probably without even moving your lips. A house is a good, just like anything else. Would you hesitate to buy a perfectly adequate used car that’s selling for 40% below market? You know, for fear of being seen as taking advantage of the poor previous owner who meant well but just got behind on her payments?

The homeseller whose position you need to exploit will find somewhere else to live. Of course she will, there’s a housing glut. Which is why prices fell so low in the first place.

Control Your Cash’s home town is Las Vegas, a place where economic sense goes to die. (We’ll explain how this fits your city’s situation in short order.) A couple of years ago, when local unemployment was microscopically low and a nation of thrill-seekers flush with speculative cash needed their indulgences stroked, Las Vegas reached its perigee as an exciting, dynamic place to live.

Which means people wanted to move to Las Vegas, faster than the contractors could build homes. Which, not surprisingly, drove prices up. The result was about two years’ worth of endlessly recurring news stories bemoaning that local home prices were so high that working families couldn’t afford them, people were having to rent, boom times have their victims, et al.

Without attaching moral weight to the price of a house, the fact is that the market will always continue its progress and fluctuation unabated. Things cost, largely, what they cost.

The world economy weakened, and consumers focused more on necessities than luxuries. It’s tough to justify show tickets and blackjack budgets being as important as food and clothing, so tourist junkets to Vegas began to dry up, relatively speaking. As did home prices.

Two years later, the common lament in the local news was that all the equity that people had built up their houses had now evaporated, and then some. Mortgage holders refinanced, which led to overexposure, which led to eviction, sometimes. (Only “sometimes” because intrusive government on multiple levels did what governments do best, spreading the pain around to the responsible innocents who budgeted wisely and didn’t overextend themselves. These lucky folks who Controlled Their Cash got to watch their taxes pay to keep others in their inappropriately grandiose houses.)

Yes, the unfortunates lost their equity. Many conveniently forgot that the original equity increase was built on the flimsy soil of speculation.

You can joke about Las Vegas all you want – which would be extraordinarily hypocritical if you’re one of Vegas’ 38 million annual visitors – but that only tells half the story. What really distinguishes Las Vegas is that it’s the place where differences in financial common sense are exploited the most. The typical Las Vegas moron bought at the top of the market, moved from his extended-stay apartment, and got to enjoy a brief period in an overly luxurious house thanks to a less-than-diligent lender. Instead of thanking those lenders for giving them a temporary sniff of the good life, the morons rewarded them by pouring concrete down toilets and stealing fixtures.

Which makes for a good news story. But no 11:00 newscast will lead with a feature on the quiet real estate investor who took a discounted house off a lender’s hands, then held it, waiting for the certainty that prices will eventually rebound.

The housing market is having a sale. Do you understand how rare this is? Fabergé lowers the prices on a dozen eggs more often than the housing market en masse breaks out the purple marker.

It’s almost counterintuitive. After all, the population is still growing. The overwhelming majority of people still have gainful employment. And the buildable area is the same – the nation isn’t expanding its boundaries past the traditional 3,794,066 square miles. In such a situation housing prices should continue to rise, although probably more modestly than usual. Instead, the arrow is pointing in the other direction.

It’s not like housing is a fad, the Pokemon or Rubik’s Cube of the late aughts. People seem to enjoy shelter, and have for dozens of years.

There has never been a better time to buy a house.

If you’re still skeptical, two questions:

a) Would you agree that people can profit from real estate investing?

It’s an omnibus, incredibly general question. So much so that it might stand a little rephrasing: is it possible to create wealth by investing in real estate?

b) If you answered “yes” (which you should have, it’s the only possible answer),

Under what set of conditions would an enterprising real estate investor best be poised to strike?

Well, she’d need:

-depressed prices

We covered that.

sellers whose motivation goes beyond price

Many of the sellers who are asking these low prices had backed themselves into a corner. They financed, say, a $200,000 house, watched its market price grow to $300,000, refinanced, got a $75,000 line of equity*, used it to buy motorcycles and ATVs, got pinstriping for the ATVs and rust protection for the bikes, couldn’t make the payments, got the line of credit revoked as the value of their home found its own level, and now are dying to get out for fear of never being able to pay off the line of credit.

So I should prey on the downtrodden?

If that’s what you’re worried about, then don’t. Instead, just let the next buyer do what we’re recommending you do. He will.

Or you can just add $20,000 or $100,000 to your offer, it that’ll make you feel better. Call it a karmic payment, if you like. And then leave a comment on this story, so we can record your IP address and report you to the Idiot Police.

The buyer wants to sell. Every day he holds onto the house brings him greater pain and uncertainty. You’re doing him a favor by taking it off his hands and giving him the one liquid, fungible thing he needs. You can’t pay off debts with assembled stucco and drywall.

-irrationality sweeping the marketplace

Perverse incentives are everywhere. (Witness the rustic period piece at the top of this post, perfect for the enterprising young home buyer ready to test her home improvement skills.)

This isn’t a shrouded opportunity. This is a sign from the heavens. You want to make the world a better place, and build wealth in the process? Take a house off the hands of someone who needs the money. Make him happy in the short run, and yourself ecstatic in the long. When the real estate market is behaving like a pawn shop, you owe it to yourself and the economy as a whole to be the liquidity that the market is crying out for.

———————–

*There are no stupid questions. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, a line of equity is basically a credit card without the plastic. You know that Discover Card in your pocket with the $8000 limit? This is similar.

If you’ve shown a capacity to pay, your bank can offer you a line of equity. “Capacity to pay” can mean a salary – after all, they’re your bank and they know where your money is – or it can mean an asset, like whatever equity you’ve built up in your house, however tentative that equity might be.

And because it’s borrowed money, you don’t use it to buy toys with. You use it to buy assets with. Assets whose rate of return exceeds whatever interest you’d pay your bank on the line of credit. God, this is easy. Why isn’t everyone rich again?

Phrenology, astrology, global warming

Today's renter, c. 2040

If enough people educate themselves, hopefully we can add “arguing that it’s better to rent than own a house” to the list of pseudoscientific hogwash. In fact, that’s an insult to hogwash, which serves the valuable purpose of washing hogs.

Yes, high interest rates can make home ownership difficult. That’s a moot point, seeing as mortgage rates are currently around an extremely palatable 5.41%. Besides, the highest mortgage rates of the authors’ lifetime (18% in the mid-to-late ’70s) can’t compare to the 100% that a landlord charges you. Again, the landlord gets it all. This is not hard to comprehend, although for some people it’s easy to rationalize away.

So you’ve agreed to buy, and found yourself a 30-year fixed rate mortgage in the process. (If you think you can somehow justify having an adjustable-rate mortgage, which could theoretically rise to any interest level the mortgagor chooses, please find another blog that’s more your speed. One with funny pictures of cats, for instance.) How to pay the mortgage off? Is there a better way than cutting monthly checks for the next 30 years?

There is, and it’s not the obvious one.

Lately it’s become vogue to make biweekly payments, thus reducing the 30-year obligation to 24 years and 9 months and saving tens of thousands in interest. That’s true, but there are a couple of reservations to keep in mind:

a) Paying biweekly doesn’t mean you’ll be paying 24 times a year. It means you’ll be paying 26 times a year.

b) If you want to make an extra 2 payments a year, there’s a better way to do it.
Once a year, preferably on the same date, send a payment equivalent to the monthly payment to your lender but specify that it’s to go exclusively to the principal.
Take a $300K loan, 6% APR, which means a $1798.65 monthly payment. By making biweekly payments for half as much, you’ll save $70,924 over the course of the loan. But making an extra annual principal-only payment amortizes your 30-year mortgage off in 24 years and 5 months, or 4 months faster than using the biweekly method. And it saves you an additional $5525, for a total of $76,449.

Our research shows that readers love charts, especially ones featuring columns of numbers. So here are three amortization schedules for that 30-year, 6% mortgage. In order:

1) standard monthly payments;
2) standard monthly payments, with an extra annual principal only-payment;
3) biweekly payments.

Standard
Year Interest Principal Balance
2010 $17,899.78 $3,684.04 $296,315.96
2011 $17,672.56 $3,911.26 $292,404.71
2012 $17,431.32 $4,152.50 $288,252.21
2013 $17,175.21 $4,408.61 $283,843.60
2014 $16,903.29 $4,680.53 $279,163.07
2015 $16,614.61 $4,969.21 $274,193.86
2016 $16,308.12 $5,275.70 $268,918.16
2017 $15,982.72 $5,601.10 $263,317.06
2018 $15,637.26 $5,946.56 $257,370.50
2019 $15,270.49 $6,313.33 $251,057.17
2020 $14,881.10 $6,702.72 $244,354.45
2021 $14,467.69 $7,116.13 $237,238.32
2022 $14,028.78 $7,555.04 $229,683.28
2023 $13,562.80 $8,021.02 $221,662.27
2024 $13,068.08 $8,515.74 $213,146.53
2025 $12,542.85 $9,040.97 $204,105.57
2026 $11,985.22 $9,598.59 $194,506.97
2027 $11,393.20 $10,190.61 $184,316.36
2028 $10,764.67 $10,819.15 $173,497.21
2029 $10,097.37 $11,486.45 $162,010.76
2030 $9,388.91 $12,194.91 $149,815.85
2031 $8,636.75 $12,947.06 $136,868.78
2032 $7,838.21 $13,745.61 $123,123.17
2033 $6,990.41 $14,593.41 $108,529.76
2034 $6,090.32 $15,493.50 $93,036.26
2035 $5,134.71 $16,449.11 $76,587.16
2036 $4,120.17 $17,463.65 $59,123.51
2037 $3,043.05 $18,540.77 $40,582.73
2038 $1,899.49 $19,684.32 $20,898.41
2039 $685.41 $20,898.41 $0
Total $347,514.55 $300,000

With additional annual principal-only payment
Year Interest Principal Balance
2010 $17,798.35 $5,584.12 $294,415.88
2011 $17,453.93 $5,928.54 $288,487.34
2012 $17,088.27 $6,294.20 $282,193.14
2013 $16,700.06 $6,682.41 $275,510.73
2014 $16,287.90 $7,094.57 $268,416.17
2015 $15,850.33 $7,532.14 $260,884.02
2016 $15,385.76 $7,996.71 $252,887.32
2017 $14,892.54 $8,489.93 $244,397.39
2018 $14,368.90 $9,013.57 $235,383.82
2019 $13,812.96 $9,569.51 $225,814.31
2020 $13,222.74 $10,159.73 $215,654.58
2021 $12,596.11 $10,786.36 $204,868.22
2022 $11,930.83 $11,451.64 $193,416.57
2023 $11,224.51 $12,157.95 $181,258.62
2024 $10,474.64 $12,907.83 $168,350.79
2025 $9,678.51 $13,703.96 $154,646.83
2026 $8,823.28 $14,549.19 $140,097.65
2027 $7,935.92 $15,446.55 $124,651.10
2028 $6,983.21 $16,399.26 $108,251.84
2029 $5,971.74 $17,410.73 $90,841.11
2030 $4,897.88 $18,484.58 $72,356.53
2031 $3,757.80 $19,624.67 $52,731.86
2032 $2,547.39 $20,835.08 $31,896.78
2033 $1,262.33 $22,120.14 $9,776.63
2034
(through May) $120.24 $9,776.64 $0
Total $271,066.13 $300,000

Biweekly payments
Interest Principal Balance
2010 $17,899.78 $5,482.69 $294,517.31
2011 $17,561.62 $5,820.85 $288,696.47
2012 $17,202.61 $6,179.86 $282,516.60
2013 $16,821.45 $6,561.02 $275,955.58
2014 $16,416.78 $6,965.69 $268,989.88
2015 $15,987.15 $7,395.32 $261,594.56
2016 $15,531.02 $7,851.45 $253,743.11
2017 $15,046.76 $8,335.71 $245,407.40
2018 $14,532.63 $8,849.84 $236,557.56
2019 $13,986.79 $9,395.68 $227,161.88
2020 $13,407.29 $9,975.18 $217,186.70
2021 $12,792.04 $10,590.43 $206,596.27
2022 $12,138.85 $11,243.62 $195,352.65
2023 $11,445.36 $11,937.11 $183,415.54
2024 $10,709.11 $12,673.36 $170,742.18
2025 $9,927.44 $13,455.03 $157,287.15
2026 $9,097.57 $14,284.90 $143,002.25
2027 $8,216.51 $15,165.96 $127,836.29
2028 $7,281.10 $16,101.37 $111,734.92
2029 $6,288.01 $17,094.46 $94,640.45
2030 $5,233.66 $18,148.81 $76,491.64
2031 $4,114.28 $19,268.19 $57,223.45
2032 $2,925.86 $20,456.61 $36,766.83
2033 $1,664.14 $21,718.33 $15,048.50
2034
(through Sept.) $363.32 $15,048.50 $0
Total $276,591.13 $300,000

Could you use an extra $5525?