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14 weeks and 12 numbers that have changed the investing history books forever post image

The middle of February 2020, and the global stock market is riding high. There are concerns – the unpredictable US president, Britain’s disentanglement from the EU, and how quickly China can recover from a new virus that has turned a key city into something from a dystopian novel – but also optimism. The US/China trade spat is easing. US election years tend to be good for markets. There’s also the Olympics to look forward to.

Fast-forward fourteen weeks and… wow.

We’ve been living through a real-life disaster movie. The build-up was tense and then the action exploded at an unimaginable pace. Heroes and villains filled our TV screens, augmented by scenes of human misery and suffering. Millions sickened – hundreds of thousands died. Billions ‘sheltered in place’ as the US lingo puts it, many terrified of leaving their homes. We’re only just beginning to realize the cost in terms of jobs, economic dislocation, and the ginormous IOUs written by governments worldwide.

Investors have had a front row seat. The stock market’s reaction may seem exaggerated – like an excitable child in the row behind us, screaming and gasping as events unfold. But it’s also uncannily predictive. By late February it saw things taking a turn for the dramatic, and began to swoon. Portfolios reeled.

For the rest of our lifetimes we’ll see data points from 2020 popping up in any backwards-look at the records. The textbooks blogs won’t need to be rewritten – event-driven crashes are nothing new – but such was this one’s ferocity that the data will need to be revised.

Here are some numbers for the ages.

1. The S&P 500 fell 30% in 22 days

US markets saw the 30% fastest decline ever. Other markets plunged even more steeply, but the US S&P 500 is the big beast of the jungle. Its companies make up more than half of the global equity portfolio.

2. The spread on the riskiest debt jumped by 9.8%

A frantic dash for cash and into the safe havens of government bonds saw riskier bonds dumped overboard like orders for Tokyo 2020 t-shirts. Widening credit spreads are normal in risk-off environments, but again the speed here was dramatic. According to Morningstar, spreads for BBB, high-yield, and CCC and lower-rated credits jumped 3.57%, 7.30%, and 9.78%, respectively, during the peak-to-trough period. This was the largest widening within a month-long period since the 2008 financial crisis.

3. The Vanguard Total Bond Market ETF traded at a discount of 6.2% to net assets

The money markets looked in danger of breaking down. On 12 March the Vanguard Total Bond Market ETF traded at an unprecedented 6.2% discount to its net asset value (NAV). Oversimplifying hugely, this implied investors could buy the ETF, sell its underlying holdings, and make an instant profit. But of course they couldn’t, because liquidity was evaporating, and also the apparent discounts on many bond ETFs anticipated declines in market prices in advance of them being discovered with real-life trades. On Sunday 15 March the US Federal Reserve rode to the rescue and the disruption was contained.

4. The UK government announced a £350 billion economic defence package

We’ve never seen anything like this government intervention outside of wartime – and not even then so baldly declared. On 17 March the newly-installed UK chancellor Rishi Sunak told the country he was ready to deploy £330bn in loans and £20bn in other aid.

5. US oil prices went below $0

Here’s something else you don’t see every day. Or indeed, ever. On 20 April the price of oil in the US – as indicated by futures contracts – turned negative. In theory this meant an oil producer would pay you to take oil off their hands. Oil demand had collapsed with the global lockdown, and storage capacity looked close to full. “This is off-the-charts wacky,” Stewart Glickman, an energy equity analyst at CFRA Research, told the BBC. “The demand shock was so massive that it’s overwhelmed anything that people could have expected.”

6. Some 20.5 million US workers lost their jobs in April

This cover from The New York Times is a legendary effort that will define the period. Breathtaking and defying almost everyone’s worst-case scenarios back in late February – whatever they now say they believed back then.

7. The Bank of England told us to get ready for the worst recession in 300 years

On 6 May the central bank warned the British economy looked set to shrink by 14% in 2020. This would be the biggest annual contraction since a decline of 15% in 1706, based on the bank’s best estimate of historical data.

8. The largest British firms slash dividends by £24bn in the face of crisis

Looking to hoard cash, prevented from paying dividends due to receiving state support – or simply dodging a PR disaster – UK firms have scrapped their dividends. By early May the UK’s 100 largest companies had cut their payouts by £24 billion, according to the investment bank Gleacher Shacklock. Link Asset Services’ worst-case scenario envisages total dividends down by 51% in 2020 – although its central expectation is for a more bearable 32-39% decline. Either way, the age-old truism that dividends are far less volatile than prices looks like it will be upended by Covid-19.

9. The UK government pays the wages of an extra eight million workers

Britain has so far been spared the enormous job losses seen in the US, largely due to Rishi Sunak’s very generous support package. By 19 May some eight million UK workers had been furloughed onto the UK government’s coronavirus job retention scheme, which sees the state pay 80% of an employee’s wages. The scheme has won plaudits, but it’s expensive. It had already cost the Treasury £11 billion by late May, and it has now been extended to the end of October, albeit with employers asked to chip in from 1 August.

10. The UK government sold gilts with a negative yield of 0.003%

With investors still smarting from the crash and fears of a depression looming, the UK government sold £3.8 billion worth of three-year gilts on 20 May at a negative yield of 0.003%. This is the first time conventional gilts have been sold with a negative yield – it meant investors were willing to give their money to the UK government with the certainty of getting back less in the future. Why would they do this? Perhaps some had no choice but to take the going rate – for example pension funds – but others may anticipate deflation (falling prices) which could increase the real value of cash, even eroded by negative interest. Or maybe they see gilt yields going lower still, allowing them to sell their bonds for a profit – the so-called ‘greater fool’ theory.

11. The UK budget deficit skyrocketed to £62.1bn in April

Whatever the reason, it’s a good thing the UK government can borrow so cheaply, because it has to. Bloomberg reported that April’s £62.1 billion deficit – the most since modern records began in 1993 – was almost three times the previous peak, and almost as much as in the whole of the previous fiscal year. Even during the financial crisis, monthly borrowing was never more than £22 billion.

12. The S&P 500 leaps 33% from its March low

What goes down doesn’t always bounce back – certainly not within short two months – but that’s what has happened with equities in the US. To return to where we started, the US market is up 33% since the trough of despair on 23 March. I’d noted the day before that investor panic seemed to have reached doomsday levels, and I was adding to my shares accordingly. But I was doing so with a long-term horizon – I didn’t expect a face-ripping bull market over the next two months!

Has the market correctly discerned that economies will recover quickly as lockdowns are lifted? Were the worst fears of the virus overblown? Or is the situation still truly dire – but even after all those job losses and dividend cuts, equities are the most attractive asset class compared to the negative yields on government bonds and barely-there interest on cash?

After the rollercoaster we’ve been on in 2020, I wouldn’t rule anything out.

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Weekend reading logo

What caught my eye this week.

Right now it can be hard to picture the economic damage caused by the Covid-19 pandemic.

We know it’s bad. The leading indicators – joblessness, factory orders, early GDP reports – tell us that.

But the full impact is being softened by government and central bank countermeasures.

Also, the more insidious affects will take years to be appreciated.

Consider the massive hit to the gazillions of small businesses that aren’t listed on markets, and are currently sheltering-in-place behind furlough schemes and cheap loans. Or the disruption and perhaps permanent impairment of some supply chains and other inter-linkages. The mental and physical health consequences. The loss of innovation.

The list goes on – but happily the world’s best minds are on the case!

Here’s an illustration of the woes in the start-up ‘unicorn’ space from the full-year results of Softbank, the firm behind the $100+billion venture capital Vision Fund:

Don’t expect to understand this graphic unless you have an MBA.

Oh SoftBank, I’m only teasing you.

As someone who reads company reports like normal people read about the Beckhams, it’s fun to come across a graphic like this.

(Although, SoftBank, I’m not sure unicorns have wings? Are you suggesting start-ups will have to mutate to survive? Or was it just too messy to illustrate a unicorn receiving a giant capital infusion at a massively lower valuation to float it out of that ditch?)

If in the future there are fewer identikit software start-ups with names that sound like forgotten children’s toys (Preppy! Snoozer! BarfBoy! TimeTurd!) raising millions to no useful end, then maybe some good will have come out of the crisis…

Oh dear – Covid-19 has turned me into a cynic. The list of symptoms keeps growing, eh?

Have a great weekend.

[continue reading…]

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The revenge of the latte factor

A photo of some coffee beans cascading, to illustrate how money falls away as per the latte factor.

You’ve heard of the latte factor, right? It’s the idea that trivial purchases add up over a lifetime to a massive wodge of could-have-been.

David Bach’s The Automatic Millionaire coined the term 15 years ago. Never one to miss the chance to make himself a million, he even published a book last year centered on The Latte Factor.

Bach is very readable if you enjoy that can-do American style, so it might be worth reading if you’re new to not flushing your money down the toilet.

Seriously: US financial guru Suze Orman made headlines last year when she said drinking a regular coffee was like “peeing $1 million down the drain”.

As Orman sees it:

Let’s say you spend around $100 on coffee each month.

If you were to put that $100 into [tax-sheltered account] instead, after 40 years the money would have grown to around $1 million with a 12% rate of return.

Even with a 7% rate of return, you’d still have around $250,000.

Orman told CNBC:

“You need to think about it as: You are peeing $1 million down the drain as you are drinking that coffee. Do you really want to do that? No.”

Too graphic? It could be worse.

A few years ago the latte factor was recast for millennials as the avocado toast factor.

We really don’t want The Accumulator drawing one of his blackboard illustrations of that…

The latte factor: Semi-skimmed

I’m not against the latte factor as a concept. It’s a useful check against careless spending, and I’ve shared it with friends in the past.

The latte factor also puts a more respectable veneer on what my friends see as me simply being a tightwad!

However it’s always been easy to unpick the latte factor, even on its own terms.

Bach stated someone in her early 20s could save $2,000 a year by skipping a $5 daily coffee. This lucky and decaffeinated lady would then earn 10-11% a year to reach $1 million by retirement in her 60s.

Sounds good. But problems abound:

  • Even 15 years on from The Automatic Millionaire, lattes still don’t cost $5. (Nor £5, in the UK. Try £3.) A latte from Starbucks in the US is $3. So that’s more like $1,095 a year saved.
  • Bach’s 10-11% a year is a very punchy expected return. My co-blogger has long touted a 5% after-inflation ((i.e. A ‘real’ return.)) expected return for equities. Maybe with inflation, a generous 8%. Does Bach think that foregoing a daily coffee will also turn you into a super-investor?
  • Most people won’t want to have all their money in the highest risk-return asset (shares). They’ll want to sleep better at night. This is especially true as they get older. Holding bonds and/or cash to dampen portfolio volatility will bring your return down. Let’s call it a still-heady 5% with inflation, to stay consistent with Bach’s numbers.
  • Compound $1,095 at 5% for 40 years and you get just $139,000. (Same in £s, of course).

$139,000 is a useful sum, sure, but you’re not even nominally ((i.e. ignoring inflation)) a millionaire after giving up all those lattes.

Extra cream on top

I don’t want to bash Bach too badly. (Although it’s alliteratively appealing…)

The latte factor is meant to be a high-level concept and teaching tool, not a financial calculator. (Ahem – although Bach did create one of those, too. But his latte factor calculator enables you to tweak the variables to something more realistic).

The latte factor is one of those things that’s blindingly obvious when you get good with money – step forward all the regulars in the Monevator comments – but it can be mind-blowing if you’re not.

Try it out on a young friend or family member if you don’t believe me.

I’ve known people who will never spend £10 when they can spend £20. Showing them how small sums add up always produces a reaction – although sadly not so often a lifestyle revolution.

In fact, the world could probably be divided into those that understand the latte factor deep in their bones, and those that don’t.

I’ve been on dates where the other party over-orders wildly (and we were always going Dutch, so let’s have none of that) and I’ve died a little inside.

Years later I realized (or more likely was told) that they saw the careless abundance as a demonstration of how into making the date a great time they were.

Whereas what I saw was an unfinished bottle of wine and half a pudding – not just on the table, but also on the bill – which I then compounded over a long and never-to-be lifetime together.

My million pound coffee

With all that said, last Saturday I had a very visceral reaction to the latte factor.

Or maybe a moment of detente with the anti-latte factor.

I was meeting one of my best friends, for the first time since lockdown began. He was the first friend I’d seen away from my own home since mid-March.

We decided to get a takeaway coffee from the recently re-opened Gail’s Bakery ((A mostly London-located upmarket bakery chain.)) near his flat.

I was early, so I queued for our coffees, six-feet from the nearest customer. The normally rammed shop contained just two staff and me. When our coffees were ready, they were brought outside and placed like two unstable hand grenades on a little table by a woman wearing a mask and blue gloves who immediately stepped back – smiling with her eyes, but very properly treating me like I was a leper.

The third place of a 1990s ad man’s dreams this was not. I’ve been to more welcoming GUM clinics.

But you know what? That coffee was magnificent. The whole shebang: Walking and sipping it from its environmentally dubious cup. Consuming the 10p of product and the £2.90 of taste, marketing, and nostalgia. Chatting – even at volume, at a distance – with my friend.

I knew I’d missed decent coffees on the go and obviously I’ve missed conversation. When lockdown began I noted how the streets seemed weird because nobody was walking with coffees.

Almost as if it was the 1980s. As if Friends had never happened!

Something bigger than a £2.95 coffee had vanished from my life.

Of course, I love coffee – and maybe you hate the stuff, or at least the mass-market escapism ritual that coffee has become.

But I bet you have your own ‘frivolous factor’, too.

Spontaneous sessions in the pub? Gym membership? Seeing films at the cinema alone on a weeknight? A serious National Trust and cream tea habit? City breaks via short-haul flights?

Did you only notice how much they mattered to you when they were gone?

Fool’s gold

It was always obvious you can take frugality and compound interest to extremes.

I once called it Buffett’s Folly, in honour of Warren Buffett’s house of the same name.

Even as he bought his property in 1957, Buffett calculated the $31,500 home cost him at least a million dollars.

That was on the back of what Buffy believed he would have generated with the money if he’d invested it in stocks instead, given his prodigious rates of return.

But Buffett still lives in exactly the same house, 63 years later. If the shingle still reads Buffett’s Folly, it’s with an ironic twist today.

By all means let’s save our pennies where we can (and avoid spending pennies, Orman-style, into the bargain. Boom boom!)

But we’ve just had a taste of what it’s like to be a monk in seclusion for the past eight weeks.

I rather enjoyed lockdown, truth be told.

But I wouldn’t trade it for meeting a friend for a decent coffee, on a whim, for the rest of my life.

Not for a million pounds. Not even for £139,000.

(Besides, coffee is really good for you!)

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Salary sacrifice: the downsides in a crisis

Salary sacrifice can come back to burn you

Many Monevator readers will be reaping generous tax breaks on their pension contributions made available through salary sacrifice schemes.

But what’s less widely understood is that salary sacrifice can work against you if it lowers your salary below critical thresholds, or if your employer hasn’t been transparent about what your salary officially is.

Badly administered schemes operate in a grey area that leaves employees in the dark about potential downsides – such as the risk of reduced redundancy pay, sick pay, and other benefits – whether by accident or unscrupulous design. (Delete as applicable, although we can do without either in the midst of a worldwide recession).

What is salary sacrifice?

Salary sacrifice schemes are a contractual agreement between you and your employer to give up part of your salary in exchange for a non-cash benefit such as pension contributions, childcare support, bicycles, and ultra-low emission cars.

The upside is you do not pay tax or National Insurance Contributions (NICs) on your foregone salary.

Your employer doesn’t pay National Insurance on your sacrificed salary either. They can pass on their savings on to you, or they can sneakily trouser it for extra profit.

HMRC doesn’t seem to mind a bit so long as certain boundaries are observed.

What is the downside of salary sacrifice?

The downside of salary sacrifice is that it lowers your salary – and you’ve signed a contract saying that you agree to it!

Reducing your salary can reduce your entitlement to a slew of benefits that are related to your earnings level, including:

  • Redundancy pay
  • Notice pay
  • Pay rises
  • Overtime and bonuses
  • Holiday pay
  • Sick pay
  • Employer pension contribution levels
  • Life cover
  • Maternity / paternity pay
  • State Pension
  • Unemployment benefits
  • Incapacity benefit
  • Mortgage borrowing levels
  • Credit card borrowing levels

All of the above depend on your earnings level to some degree – or to your earnings clearing certain thresholds.

Your employer is under no obligation to measure those benefits against your pre-sacrifice salary (unless they’ve contractually agreed that with you).

In some cases it’s entirely out of their hands anyway. You shouldn’t be on a salary sacrifice scheme if it drops you below the National Minimum Wage (unless you’re exempt). It may also not work out for you if you’re subject to the tapered annual allowance. Hint: HMRC are alive to this caper and sacrificed salary is just added back to calculate your threshold income. It’s like shooting at the Borg.

Salary sacrifice: how it could cost you

Everything is okay if your employer clearly explained the issues to you before you signed your new contract sacrificing salary.

(Yes… of course they did.)

Alternatively, everything is groovy if your employer is completely trustworthy and not prone to doing over its own employees when cashflow is tight.

(Is it just me, or is it suddenly a bit hot in here?)

Things are still on a relatively even keel if your employer explained that you would retain a notional salary or shadow salary. In this case your pre-sacrifice salary counts when your employer calculates your right to contractual benefits that it controls, namely:

  • Redundancy pay
  • Notice pay and holiday pay
  • Pay rises
  • Overtime and bonuses
  • Contractual sick pay
  • Employer pension contribution levels
  • Life cover
  • Contractual maternity / paternity pay

If you don’t have a notional salary agreement then employers are perfectly within their rights to use your lower post-sacrifice pay to calculate these amounts – although they should have mentioned it before signing you up to salary sacrifice. I say they’re within their rights – obviously you work for ScuzzBucket plc if your employer does this kind of thing… can I interest you in a prospectus?

State benefits are calculated using your post-sacrifice salary and that’s the end of it. These include:

  • Statutory sick pay
  • Statutory maternity / paternity pay / adoption pay
  • State Pension entitlements
  • Incapacity benefit
  • Parental bereavement pay
  • Jobseeker’s Allowance and Employment and Support Allowance

You can ensure you don’t come a-cropper with some of these benefits (such as State Pension) by ensuring your salary doesn’t drop below the lowest threshold for National Insurance Contributions, or that you’ve built up a sufficient record of payments already or through credits.

A particularly generous employer can make a non-statutory ‘top-up’ payment to employees, if they’d like to make good any shortfall in statutory pay entitlement.

(Good luck with that!)

Salary sacrifice: can I change my agreement?

You can change your salary sacrifice agreement, but your freedom of manoeuvre is limited.

Your contract should specify your cash earnings and your non-cash benefits. Non-cash benefits are benefits that your employer pays for.

Your contract needs to change whenever your salary sacrifice agreement changes, and if you switch between cash and non-cash benefits too frequently then you lose your tax advantages.

The Government has outlined certain ‘lifestyle changes’ which justify a swift opt-out of your salary sacrifice agreement.

Example events include:

  • Changes to circumstances directly arising as a result of coronavirus (Covid-19)
  • Marriage
  • Divorce
  • Partner becoming redundant or pregnant

It’s also worth noting that your employer can’t force you into a salary sacrifice scheme, just in case you were wondering.

Salary sacrifice: does it reduce my pension annual allowance?

Salary sacrifice should not have any negative impact on your annual allowance although, as always with tax, seek more qualified advice if you’re worried about this.

The problem goes something like this:

  • Your pre-sacrifice salary: £40,000
  • You salary sacrifice: £25,000
  • Your post-sacrifice salary: £15,000

Does that post-sacrifice salary limit your annual allowance to £15,000 (less than you’re contributing!) because your tax relief is limited to 100% of your relevant UK earnings per tax year?

(I’m excluding those who’ve triggered the money purchase annual allowance (MPAA) or the tapered annual allowance.)

Your £40,000 pension annual allowance for defined contribution pensions consists of:

  • Your personal contributions
  • Your employer’s contributions
  • Third-party contributions – anyone else who kindly chips in for you

If the combined total of those contributions goes over your annual allowance and your carry forward, then you’re in for a tax charge.

You get tax relief on your personal contributions up to 100% of your relevant UK earnings or your annual allowance, whichever is lower.

Your employer’s contributions are not subject to your relevant UK earnings limit, only your £40,000 annual allowance limit.

Old Mutual puts it succinctly:

Personal contributions can be limited by relevant UK earnings but employer contributions are not.

Meanwhile, salary sacrifice converts your salary into an employer pension contribution as explained by Pru Advisor:

An employee could also save income tax, and National Insurance Contributions (NIC), by using a salary sacrifice agreement.

This is where they have a contract with their employer to exchange some of their gross salary (before tax) for a non-cash benefit, such as an employer pension contribution.

So it’s okay if salary sacrifice reduces your salary below the level of your total pension contributions – because your sacrifice is classified as employer contributions, and those do not attract tax relief.

However, personal contributions above your post-sacrifice salary will not gain tax relief either.

All of this is apparently confirmed by the Government’s own pension annual allowance calculator which does not ask how much you earned during the tax year. It’s only interested if you exceeded the £40,000 limit or if you tripped the MPAA or tapered annual allowance.

Salary sacrifice in a crisis

I’ve been happily maxing out my salary sacrifice for years in order to hit financial independence. I didn’t know about the downsides, nor was I made aware of them when I signed up.

That makes me deeply uncomfortable about what will happen should I catch a bullet. Maybe it’ll be alright, maybe not.

I don’t like grey areas and – given we face a recession of biblical proportions – I’ve cut my salary sacrifice to the bone.

Take it steady,

The Accumulator

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