I’m diving into an ugly discussion here about a middle-class reality: student debt.
I’ve seen this movie too many times. Far be it from me to cast aspersions on the failings of my clients or their children. But at least a couple times a year, I would find clients who had signed on to pay for their children’s college debt, assuming that once out of school, the child would be responsible for repayment. Alas, the child decided (for whatever reason) they were not interested in “adulting” at that level. And Mom and Dad, responsible on paper, continued to make the payments, often at the expense of their own retirement security.
I’ve probably bored you to tears over the past few blogs, but I can’t help trying to be more complete. (This is in response to some finfluencer posts I found that only give the sexy part of any story.)
Somewhat tangential to my recent Taxes Matter posts, I want to offer two more tax ideas for diversification, but first a word on Required Minimum Distributions (RMDs).
“Wide diversification is only required when investors do not understand what they are doing.”
These are strong words from Warren Buffet, the CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, which arguably is its own diversified investment. Buffet has been known to say that concentration builds wealth and diversification protects wealth; that diversification is a hedge for when you are not knowledgeable.
That said, what should you do with your nest egg: build wealth or protect it?
April is Financial Literacy Month, wherein we encourage Americans to create and maintain healthy financial habits. The only problem is, depending on your source for financial education, you can go down a rabbit hole quickly in the wrong direction.
Not every self-proclaimed financial “expert” delivers best practice information; in other words, generally accepted and researched principles and guidelines. And that means it’s sometimes hard for you to extrapolate what information is right for you. Most of the reputable talking heads deliver solid data, but they also have something to sell. And that can be problematic when what you are learning is sales opinion and not fact.
Last week, I discussed why tax diversification matters in retirement. In it, I described how we tend not to think of tax treatment in distribution as we build our wealth. Instead, we place most of our wealth in accounts that are taxable as income (IRAs, 401(k)s) and in our homes (equity.)
But in retirement, we may want to finesse how much income we show year-over-year in order to take advantage of the tax code; because having assets with different tax treatments (capital gains, Roth, deferred) provides more choices, which lead to (potentially) paying less tax out of your savings.
It’s Tax Day! Welcome back to the surface, all my CPA friends. Well done on this year’s efforts. Get all the extensions filed and head out on your well-earned spring vacations! When you come back, let’s do coffee.
As for the rest of us, we tend to think of taxes as a necessary evil, which of course, they are. It’s hard to love tax information. Now, before I lay some on you (tax love, that is) in honor of this auspicious annual event, I’d like to address something truly important in grammatical constructs. And while my reach is not far (yet), I will be gratified if just one person learns this and uses it properly going forward:
We’re going to hear more and more about the “feminization of wealth” as the great wealth transfer—$80 to $90 trillion from Boomers to Millennials—takes place. By the end of the decade, we expect that women will control $30 trillion, and, eventually, about 60% of all wealth in the U.S. For perspective, U.S. gross domestic product for 2023 was just under $28 trillion.
Prospective clients would regularly tell me they are “maxing” their 401(k)s. Upon closer inspection, I’d discover that they were not maxing their 401(k)s. What were they doing? They were maxing their employer match. This happens often enough that I think it bears explaining. When financial planners say you should “max your contribution to your 401(k),” I don’t think it means what you think it means. (See The Princess Bride.)
Let me tell you a “not-so” secret: I bought AAPL (Apple) in 2001 at $17. I had a feeling that the iTunes thing was going to be big. And I was right. Yippee for me! Having just come off the bursting of the dot-com bubble and the horror of 9/11, I made a great call.
I few weeks ago, I posted What is the Role of Allies? (Part I), wherein I proposed that Allies who are only mentors are coming up short. Continued economic expansion requires that Allies actively identify and recruit more women into senior leadership because, in a world that is increasingly older and female, women’s wisdom and identification with the consumer population is essential for growth.
I know I just wrote a little about the notion and costs of frailty risk. But I’m going to force the issue here. My experience with clients is that nobody wants to talk about caregiving and being cared for. (Exception: My mom, Hurricane Jackie, who begins every Saturday morning conversation with, “If anything happens to me….”)
There are some crazy and absolutely true metrics about the percentage of clients who, when offered guaranteed lifetime income by their financial advisors, refuse to take the advice. And it’s a high percentage. Since I pride myself on clear communication, I don’t think the challenge, for my own clients, was my failure to describe what it is, what it isn’t, why it’s a good thing, and what are any potential gotchas. I think it’s fear.
It’s hard to imagine arriving at that age where you start a conversation regaling people with your latest doctor’s appointments. Lots of us arrive there, however. Sometimes it’s a necessity, like when a child takes over a parent’s health logistics. But mostly we joke how we’ll never be that person, when in reality, we know, deep down, we are destined to become precisely that person.
Recently, I drove east from Cincinnati to Saratoga Springs, New York, as I do twice a month; and let me state for the record that I-71 and I-90 are not interesting roads. The trip is much more tolerable when it includes catchup phone calls and audiobooks. This time, my 11-hour pilgrimage called for a weighty tome. A substantial piece of thought leadership.
It’s not our fault that we think of the stock market as a form of speculation. Pundits and consumers alike refer to investing as “playing the market,” as though we’re walking up to a blackjack table, slot machine or roulette wheel. And just like gambling, participating in the stock market comes with risk.
It seems to me that we (still) live in a world where misogyny is the last acceptable bias. It’s crazy to me, growing up being told I could do anything I wanted to, if I wanted it badly enough, to know that my success is a threat to anyone.
When I take on a new client, the first activity is to understand their values, their current and desired lifestyle, and assess how closely their cashflow management matches where their hearts are.
Among the most common refrains I hear from clients is, “We were never taught this stuff in school,” or “My parents never taught me about money.” For most of us, this is a truth-bomb extraordinaire.
I’m going to take a cue from Avivah Wittenberg-Cox and refer to our lives in quarters. She describes our 3rd quarter as one of becoming and our 4th quarter as one of harvesting. Her goal is to enable us to understand that we are likely going to live to 100, and we need to be conscious that the shape we’re in when we get there is up to us.
I recently read a post by a young finfluencer about something called the “family opportunity mortgage.” No doubt searching for fresh content, she rightfully made the point that it’s possible to use this tool to help your retired parents own a home. The challenge, however, is that the Family Opportunity Mortgage Program has been discontinued, so you can’t go to a lender and ask for one.
Those who have met the Finkel family in person know that we are a small bunch. Long used to being undermined by high shelves and overshadowed by tall, long-limbed folk, we are easy to overlook, literally. But we are loud, and that certainly makes up for what we lack in stature. We are also not slender. I believe a more accurate description for us is “chunky.”
Among the more pernicious myths of the 20th century is the notion that it’s good to defer taxes because, in retirement, we’ll all be in a lower tax bracket. This is treated as gospel by CPAs and mere mortals alike. We believe that, when the piper demands his due, we’ll be enjoying our financial freedom—retirement—at a discount.
A couple years ago, I moved to a largely fee-only financial planning model; more specifically, a fee-first planning model, as my clients would, over the course of a one-year engagement, implement solutions with my team once we had established both trust and need.
Longevity is the duration or length of our lives. Longevity risk represents how our longevity will compromise our lifestyle. Financial people refer to it as the “risk you will run out of money before you run out of breath.” As a group, we try to prevent ourselves and our loved ones from eating cat food in our 80s. But there is another longevity risk that I want to address, and that is that your healthspan—the duration of that part of your life in which you are free from debilitating illness—won’t be long enough if you don’t take ameliorative steps now.
We’re all in sales. Day in and day out, we sell others on our ideas, recommendations, and our work product. The only difference between salespeople and non-salespeople is how they’re compensated. I’ve looked at sales compensation models and sales contributor success, slicing and dicing it every which way. And sometimes I think the “Hunter” archetype is overrated.
A professional colleague felt she needed to ask her husband to use a $5,000 bonus to start her own consultancy. Her bonus. Her income. And she had to ask … her spouse? The issue for her was less about getting permission than assuaging her guilt for using her money on herself and not on her family. (Spoiler alert: Her spouse was completely supportive, so she did it, she’s wildly successful, and she’s never looked back.)
I am childless by choice. And that’s probably an important area for Madrina Molly™ to explore, as women without children need to consider how they will spend their later years. For a couple of decades, people told me I’d change my mind one day; that my biological clock would start ticking. It never happened.
Recently, a pundit referred to the “generativity” of President Biden. That immediately sent me to the nearest search engine. Turns out “Generativity vs. Stagnation” is the seventh stage of Erik Erikson’s psychosocial development theory. (I did not take Psychology in college, so this is all new to me. But say “psychosocial development theory” three times fast and Erikson may appear.)
Many of you have been kind enough to ask how you can provide financial support to Madrina Molly™ as this effort launches, and we are grateful. For now, the best gift you can give is to subscribe (for free) to the newsletter on this platform, Substack. We have made the decision that we will build our mailing list and use Substack’s free features, of which there are many. But when it comes time to monetize our offerings, we will migrate elsewhere.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary, retirement is the “withdrawal from one's occupation or position, especially upon reaching a certain age.” Note that the definition uses the word “withdrawal” and not “end.” The definition of “withdrawal” uses the words “retreat” and “removal.” Again, not the word “end.” That should be instructive for us in the 21st Century.
Retirement is not an end. We do not expire. Ageism in society notwithstanding, we have choices:
· Fund retirement in our 50s to support ourselves in our 80s and 90s. Or don’t.
· Be curious and embrace lifelong learning to nourish our brains. Or don’t.
· Invest in our health so that our bodies will stand a chance of taking us the distance under our own steam. Or don’t.