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Weekend reading: Quid game

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What caught my eye this week.

Sooner or later in any survival drama, half the survivors walk out on the other half in search of a better future.

Sure, they’re all safer together in the camp.

But that also sucks – what with the dull food and the claustrophobia and the love triangles and the sudden deadly nocturnal bloodbaths.

Let’s take a chance, urge the ringleaders. No more meekly accepting fate. It’s time to take back control!

Viewers wince and shout “don’t do it!”

But it’s to no avail.

Stuck in the mid-series doldrums, the screenwriters need these renegades to be chowed down by zombies or vapourised by aliens or to turn on each other, starving and half-mad.

An antihero gets his comeuppance. A fan favourite cops it, too.

Whoever is left limps home, desperate to perpetuate their lucrative Netflix gig for six more seasons – unlike their unfortunate eviscerated comrades who can now only dream of 20 years signing T-shirts at Comic Con.

Lost in the supermarket

Back in the real world and in a Britain today that definitely shares nothing in common with the above scenario, things seem to be mildly unraveling:

  • One in six adults reports being unable to buy essential items because they were not available, according to the ONS.
  • 76% of British businesses believe staffing is a threat to UK competitiveness, says the CBI.
  • There’s not enough people around willing to slaughter the pigs.
  • British fisherman now need 38 pieces of paper to export fish into the EU, versus four before we left the EU – just one example of the vast frictions introduced at our borders.
  • Covid still stalks the land even as it recedes in places as disparate as the US and Italy. This despite 138,000 deaths, multi-month lockdowns, and an early lead in vaccinations.

The list goes monotonously on.

I’ll say it again – this is definitely not all happening because of Brexit.

From book shortages in the US to soaring gas prices in Europe, the Containergeddon that’s broken supply chains, and a global shortfall in everything from semiconductors to paint, Humanity PLC is struggling to reboot.

However Britain is especially vulnerable to this disruption – even absent a Brexit – because we’re very exposed to trade.

And what was heroically spun by some as a reason to make such activity difficult with our by-far largest trading partner has now come back to bite us.

As a result our economy – ‘running on fumes’ says Bloomberg – has been slow to bounce back:

Complete control

In response, the charismatic blonde survivor who headed our breakaway group has continued his finger-pointing.

Despite nearly every economist in the world warning we’d face consequences from staff shortages if we turned off free movement with Brexit, PM Boris Johnson blames business, this time for perpetuating a low-wage culture.

As the Brexit-tracking professor Chris Grey notes on this shift:

Johnson, inevitably, is the master of this illogic, managing to suggest within the course of one interview that the crisis doesn’t exist, and that it exists but is nothing to do with Brexit, and that it exists but is part of what delivering Brexit means.

It’s like the three-card Monte scam in reverse: rather than the gullible punter never turning up the winning card, Johnson’s trick is to present whatever card he picks as being the winner.

There was of course no evidence that immigration made more than a tiny difference to the employment prospects of Britons. That was a fiction, like so much other campaign nonsense:

What free movement did do was keep the lorries rolling, the elderly cared for, the Starbucks coffees coming, and the home renovations happening.

What we’re seeing on the High Streets is just the tip of the iceberg:

Even if you believe anything that Brexit will lead to upskilling and a pay boost for Brits, it’s clearly going to take decades.

So you might think the government should come clean and start taking appropriately massive action to redress this problem, given we have now got (slightly) more freedom to act and it can still borrow cheaply.

However besides the blame game and the cheering of fuel shortages, the main talk at this week’s Tory party conference was of tax rises and cutting spending.

It sounded ominously like Austerity 2.0.

Clampdown

Chancellor Rishi Sunak is no idiot, so you might wonder – beyond idealogy – why he’d go down this path at a time of record low borrowing costs.

Why not build new towns to solve Britain’s housing crisis? Why not plant 100,000 hectares of new forests instead of 30,000, to make a dent in our climate pledges?

If this isn’t the time for borrowing to boost the economy then when?

I suspect there are couple of big impediments.

Firstly, as former Bank of England governor Mark Carney warned Britain is reliant on the “kindess of strangers” – the capital inflows that finance our current account deficit.

On top of that Britain’s finances are uniquely emeshed with the world:

Source: Bank of England

For example, a third of UK corporate borrowing is financed from overseas lenders.

The international perception of the UK’s finances is therefore a priority for any competent UK chanceller. As bad headlines multiply, Sunak can’t risk a credibility gap, a run on the pound, and/or rising borrowing costs.

As Merryn Somerset-Webb puts it in the FT [search result]:

A 2013 study from the World Bank suggests that once government debt goes over 77 per cent of GDP every additional percentage point reduces real annual GDP growth by 0.017 percentage points.

At [the UK’s] 106 per cent that adds up — its effect on living standards might be why Sunak said at his party’s conference this week that he considers the ongoing piling up of debt to be “immoral”. All this suggests more taxation.

Whatever the Brexit rhetoric, we’re not totally in control here. Sunak has to at least talk tough – and arguably act tough – to keep foreign capital on-side.

That’s surely one reason why the government is mooting tax hikes, even with GDP in the hole and the cost of borrowing for investment neglible.

Train in vain

The second reasonable reason the government may be reluctant to embark on the kind of massive infrastructure spending spree I’d like to see at a time of record affordability is that it simply can’t be done.

It’s hardly treasonous to say we had a problem building more homes (a massive shortfall for decades) or infrastructure (Crossrail is years late) even before the pandemic and Brexit.

Now we’re short of workers, who exactly will build the new towns? The new infrastructure?

I still believe my ginormous tree-planting idea has legs. If anything requires low skills it’s digging a hole, it’d boost the economy, and it needs to be done.

But this sort of thing won’t level-up the workforce long-term.

Perhaps Sunak’s wonks have run the numbers and told him that without workers he can’t productively spend the money, even if he wants to?

London calling

I’m often reminded by critics that Monevator is an investing site – as if the nation’s economy was as inconsequential for us as the football results.

But fair enough, what could this mean for our finances and portfolios?

Firstly, Britain is not finished. Those who were opposed to our leaving the EU are foolish in predicting a collapse.

As I’ve said since day one, Brexit is more like a leaky tyre from a puncture than a headlong crash into the barriers. The pandemic added bumps in the road, but we’re still a strong, well-educated economy.

The UK will do worse economically indefinitely because we left the EU – something you might legitimately feel that was worth it for other reasons. But we won’t become an economic basket case.

Rather, I believe we face mild stagflationary forces – although not enduring stagflation, and I’m not (yet) predicting a recession.

Inflation will rise for a time, because it is rising everywhere. It may then persist for years here because of the higher cost of workers. The Bank of England’s new chief economist recently said as much. His underlings predict CPI inflation will hit 4% later this year.

But faced with low economic growth, the Bank will surely be reluctant to raise borrowing costs too fast.

This may be where Sunak’s steathy tax rises will instead step-in to remove some money from the economy to curb inflation – hopefully in a vaguely progressive fashion.

Tax rises can be expected to hurt economic growth at the margin, but may be judged better than the alternative (an international confidence scare).

The takeaways are probably something like:

  • A stronger pound than you might have expected.
  • Similarly stronger (low-yielding) UK government bonds.
  • Cash in savings accounts continuing to deliver negative real returns.
  • Mortgage rates stay low and house prices don’t crash.
  • Self-constrained against outright tax rises, we can probably expect a capital gains tax hike and lower reliefs from pension contributions.
  • I expect (and welcome) a minimum wage hike, given the rhetoric. (Of course previous governments did this without needing Brexit to do it.)
  • UK markets may be largely held back by weaker growth at home and a strong currency making our exports less attractive or profitable abroad.

The usual caveats apply. This is just my best guess, for what it’s worth. It’s definitely subject to revision with new data.

Things may go better than expected. For example, the removal of furlough hasn’t yet done the damage some predicted.

I do hope we get a few more breaks. We’re overdue them.

Have a great weekend!

[continue reading…]

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The Slow and Steady passive portfolio update: Q3 2021

The annualised return of the portfolio is 9.45%.

Fuel shortages, an energy crisis, the Winter of Discontent reboot…

There’s been so many callbacks to the 1970s lately I’m dusting off my flares.

By which I mean the absurdest trouser style in history – not my emergency distress fireworks.

Still, it’s hard not to FREAKOUT when the Slow & Steady portfolio got SLAUGHTERED 0.36% in the last quarter!

Sorry, I went a bit CNBC News there.

Anyway it’s okay, I’m coping with the loss. I took swift and decisive action.

I started a brawl in a petrol station.

Then I sold everything in exchange for a hard drive of crypto.

I feel much better now.

Steady on

Alright, you got me – I did nothing as usual. Except reflect on the 9.45% annualised the Slow & Steady portfolio has made for over a decade.

Things aren’t so bad, huh?

This quarter’s returns are brought to you by 5D-Anxiety-O-Vision:

Truth is, the portfolio’s pond is mostly still. The two biggest ripples emanated from:

  • The enduring volatility of Emerging Markets – down nearly 5% in a quarter. (Damn you, China!)
  • The slow puncture of conventional bonds. They’re the first asset class to become a net drag on the portfolio, having inflicted a -0.51% annualised loss across the portfolio’s 11-year lifetime.

This small loss from bonds is the price we’ve paid to insure against the worst fate in investing.

The Slow & Steady portfolio is Monevator’s model passive investing portfolio. It was set up at the start of 2011 with £3,000. An extra £985 is invested every quarter into a diversified set of index funds, tilted towards equities. You can read the origin story and find all the previous passive portfolio posts tucked away in the Monevator vaults.

Signal vs noise

Do these disturbances mean anything? And surely we can’t put up with a loss-making asset like those rubbish bonds?

Judging when (if ever) such information should be acted upon is one of the main challenges of passive investing.

Does a signal show:

  • Something is fundamentally wrong?
  • The steering wheel needs a nudge?
  • Or that things should be left well alone?

The irony of the Smartphone Age is it deluges us with more information than we can cope with. While at the same time superficially offering us the power to immediately respond to every compelling tip, lead, and theory.

For any story in my investing feeds, I can dive down a rabbit-hole and discover:

  • Someone who’s woven a plausible-sounding thesis around it. (Plausible because I don’t have time to untangle the cat’s-cradle of connections enmeshing every story that mews for attention.)
  • Social proof that people are acting on the thesis. (Are they the cognoscenti or a cult?)
  • The product (or targeted ad campaign) that’ll ‘change my life’.

Why don’t I do something?

  • Am I stupid?
  • Uninformed?
  • Scared?
  • A dinosaur?

I hold the line, because I know I’m being hosed.

Separating signal from noise is impossible in this environment. It’s like fishing with my teeth in the Niagara Falls.

I only hear from the success stories du jour. Never how most of the stories end.

Yet these flashes-in-the-pan leave me with an after-image of someone else’s win. Even though most flame-out later.

There’s a mismatch between my life’s time-horizon and their 15 seconds of fame.

This dissonant loop locks my instincts and rationality in an eternal battle – like warring gods in heaven.

The proof points of a 24/7 culture can make long-term thinking appear flat-footed and flat-capped. (More dubious fashion advice there.)

The world has always been uncertain. But today’s excessive illusion of control further raises our anxiety levels.

It takes a lot of willpower to not scratch every itch.

Crypto insecurity

I do think that crypto is the most interesting challenge to evidence-based investing I’ve seen.

How do you respond when there’s no firm evidence?

Is it all tulips, or will crypto come up roses? Either is possible.

More likely, one or two cryptocurrencies will enter the pantheon of worthy asset classes. But I don’t know which of the current crop will make it, or whether they’ll all be supplanted by new competitors.

I’ve heard some say that they’re ‘indexing’ baskets of crypto because you should diversify across as many assets as possible.

But how many would bother to do that without having first heard all the crypto-millionaire stories? Huge wealth that was typically achieved by actually going ‘all-in’ on a particular digital asset, when it cost just peanuts?

Do they also advocate investing in asset classes where the gloss has long peeled off the marketing brochure? For example, commodities, private equity, and volatility?

I have exposure to esoteric assets insofar as the global stock markets tracked by my index funds include companies with fingers in these pies.

I take that as proof of financial value. And that’s how I’ll get my exposure to blockchain technology, too.

Cryptic conflicts

The most insidious insult in the knowledge economy is being labelled as someone who ‘doesn’t get it.’

If you don’t know what’s going on, then you’re deemed useless.

The obvious defense is to stretch ourselves ever more thinly. Put just enough skin in the new game and you can:

  • Participate in the upside
  • Limit the downside
  • Quell an unquiet ego

I think this exercise can help. In the last resort, I use it to enforce a ceasefire between my rational and instinctual sides. Because my ego is an arch-troublemaker. And its interventions usually solve problems as effectively as handbags on the forecourt.

Still, I won’t be including Bitcoin or any other crypto assets in this model portfolio anytime soon. Almost certainly “any time ever”, actually.

But if some of the companies our money is invested in via our index funds hit it big with blockchain, I’ll be happily cheering them along.

New transactions

Every quarter we throw £985 at the King Kong that is the global market. Our peanuts are split between seven funds, as per our predetermined asset allocation.

We rebalance using Larry Swedroe’s 5/25 rule. That hasn’t been activated this quarter.

These are our trades:

UK equity

Vanguard FTSE UK All-Share Index Trust – OCF 0.06%

Fund identifier: GB00B3X7QG63

New purchase: £49.25

Buy 0.220 units @ £223.54

Target allocation: 5%

Developed world ex-UK equities

Vanguard FTSE Developed World ex-UK Equity Index Fund – OCF 0.14%

Fund identifier: GB00B59G4Q73

New purchase: £364.45

Buy 0.711 units @ £512.42

Target allocation: 37%

Global small cap equities

Vanguard Global Small-Cap Index Fund – OCF 0.29%

Fund identifier: IE00B3X1NT05

New purchase: £49.25

Buy 0.122 units @ £402.14

Target allocation: 5%

Emerging market equities

iShares Emerging Markets Equity Index Fund D – OCF 0.18%

Fund identifier: GB00B84DY642

New purchase: £78.80

Buy 40.807 units @ £1.93

Target allocation: 8%

Global property

iShares Global Property Securities Equity Index Fund D – OCF 0.17%

Fund identifier: GB00B5BFJG71

New purchase: £49.25

Buy 20.746 units @ £2.37

Target allocation: 5%

UK gilts

Vanguard UK Government Bond Index – OCF 0.12%

Fund identifier: IE00B1S75374

New purchase: £305.35

Buy 1.73 units @ £176.84

Target allocation: 31%

Global inflation-linked bonds

Royal London Short Duration Global Index-Linked Fund – OCF 0.27%

Fund identifier: GB00BD050F05

New purchase: £88.65

Buy 77.9 units @ £1.14

Target allocation: 9%

New investment = £985

Trading cost = £0

Platform fee = 0.35% per annum.

This model portfolio is notionally held with Fidelity. Take a look at our online broker table for cheaper platform options if you use a different mix of funds. Consider a flat-fee broker if your ISA portfolio is worth substantially more than £25,000. The Slow & Steady portfolio has long since passed that threshold. I’ll explore a move to a flat-fee platform in the next installment.

Average portfolio OCF = 0.15%

If all this seems too much like hard work then you can buy a diversified portfolio using an all-in-one fund such as Vanguard’s LifeStrategy series.

Interested in tracking your own portfolio or using the Slow & Steady investment tracking spreadsheet? This piece on portfolio tracking shows you how.

Take it steady,

The Accumulator

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Weekend reading: Padstow away

Weekend reading logo

What caught my eye this week.

I am down in Cornwall at the moment, living the outdoorsy middle-class Londoner’s cliché dream. Earlier this evening Paul Ainsworth wowed with a rib. Yesterday a Rick Stein spot did wonders with a negroni.

The Camel Estuary of course outshines them all.

So technically I’m on my holidays. But this being October in the UK there’s been plenty of rain to keep me busy. Hence a short menu of links below.

Enjoy, please add anything you’ve spotted in the comments – and have a great weekend!

[continue reading…]

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Three investing mistakes that cost me

Three investing mistakes that cost me post image

I’ve recently been judging my investing track record against hindsight – always a losing proposition – yet fun if you have a masochistic streak

Looking up the ten-year performance of my chosen index trackers, I can easily see what I coulda, shoulda, woulda done instead.

Here’s three decisions that haunt me like some ghost of investing past: clanking its chains and wailing “failure! failure!

Fail 1: Risk factor investing

I was warned. It’s right there in the strategy’s name: RISK.

The theory of investing in risk factors is you can zhuzh up some extra return by putting money into funds tracking baskets of companies with special properties as defined by clever academics.

These boffins had apparently reverse-engineered the secret sauce of stock picking legends like Ben Graham and Warren Buffett. They then published their recipe for the hoi polloi like me to lap up.

Of course, such factor returns weren’t guaranteed. John Bogle described the concept as a “marketing gimmick” back in 2013. Our own Lars Kroijer warned against them, too.

I dutifully did my research, noted the danger of decades of under-performance, then placed my bets on lesser-correlated, ‘no-promises but it’s a sure thing [wink]’ winners like the Value, Quality, Momentum, and Small factors.

With names like that, how could I fail? (Okay, maybe Small should have set the alarm bells ringing.)

More than a decade later and I feel like I’ve backed the gastropod with a gammy foot in a snail race.

My oh-so-clever smart beta, strategic beta, fundamental indexing, risk premium, factor investing (Christ! How many times do we need to rebrand this thing before it comes good?) funds drag themselves around the track in the wake of my vanilla global tracker year in, year out.

And now I’m trapped:

  • The angel on my shoulder says a decade of under-performance goes with the territory. I’ve just gotta hold on.
  • The devil says the risk premiums are dead. They were diluted by dumb money like mine the moment they were launched as mass market, fruit-flavoured ETFs.

Forgive me ‘St’ Jack (Bogle). I should have listened to your wisdom:

“Fund performance comes and goes. Costs go on forever.”

Conclusion: Keep reading research that claims my favoured factors are not overvalued, just out of favour. Confirmatory bias for the win my friends!

Fail 2: Buying on the cheap

Buy low, sell high. This heuristic has everything. It’s so beguiling, so contrarian, and as diabolically simple as a poisoned chalice switcheroo.

To action the plan just follow these simple steps:

  1. Load up on assets after a market fire-sale.
  2. Wait for mean-reversion to turn the tables in your favour.
  3. Cash in.

Only loser squares buy high!

This school of thought naturally led me to valuation metrics. Touchstones like the Shiller PE Ratio reputedly reveal when a market is a screaming buy, or else a giant bubble set to burst across the face of humanity.

By that light, the US market has been an inflamed pimple of doom for years.

Meanwhile, the UK and Emerging Markets have been the only major regions that looked remotely cheap for much of my investing life.

“Pah!” thought I. “Success ‘tis as simple as tilting towards these cut-price stocks.”

I might as well have cut my throat. The bargains stayed in the basement.

The FTSE 100 was dominated by big banks.

Me as the Financial Crisis lets rip: “Cripes.”

The FTSE 100 was dominated by big oil.

Me as the world catches fire: “Eeek!”

The FTSE 100 is dominated by big pharma.

Me as the world catches Rona: “Swings and roundabouts.”

As for Brexit…

…let’s not go there.

Conclusion: The FTSE looks like a sin index full of tobacconists, arms companies, booze giants, and miners planning to despoil the world’s beauty spots. That’s gotta be good for profits, right? And the US can’t keep climbing forever while China won’t keep filing the horns off their tech unicorns, surely?

The whole world looks like a basket-case. I best stop trying to be clever.

Fail 3: Rigid adherence to evidence-based investing

If an asset class doesn’t have a 100-year track record then I don’t invest.

Equities, bonds, gold, cash, commodities – I understand what these are for and what they do.

But how do you respond when someone invents something fundamentally new (hello, crypto) that could be a game-changer or a ponzi scheme?

Well, if you’re my co-blogger The Investor you scoop it up like a schoolboy at a rock pool. This guy collects securities the way others collect stamps.

If you’re The Accumulator you sit on the sidelines like a hunter-gatherer who can’t believe this farming lark will ever catch on.

Meanwhile, you torture yourself with crypto-millionaire fables – because even a caveman has to have a hobby.

Perhaps I should have started that fun money portfolio after all. That would help me escape my ideological constraints and silence the second-guessing.

Conclusion: The small probability of a major pay-off is tempting but I haven’t got enough money to chase every pot o’ gold story. Ethereum, meme stocks, NFTs. The opportunities to invest in things I don’t understand are endless and the casualties under-reported – like victims of the Onecoin scam.

Grateful for the investing mistakes I didn’t make

Comparing yourself to humanity’s fat-tail winners is a curse of the modern age, but I have a better idea…

Think about what went right.

I made it to financial independence, early. I’ve got enough to live on for the rest of my days. I can’t compete with my neighbour’s lambo but on the global scale, I hit the jackpot.

I’m happier than I’ve been for… decades. Wow! That realisation just fell out of my fingers as I was typing. It kinda stings my eyes.

I’ve had my share of luck. So it’s okay that I didn’t predict a cat GIF would be worth more than my house.

One happy coincidence for me was stumbling upon passive investing all those years ago.

That simple, replicable, stick-with-it strategy was never going to let me take a bath full of money.

But it’s allowed me to enjoy life’s other riches on tap.

Investing mistakes? I’ve had a few

The mistake this article makes is to view the past through a cock-eyed monocle of failure. Hindsight is 20/20 but it’s blind to chance.

Everyone loses some battles. You just have to win the war.

Take it steady,

The Accumulator

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