Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Tenets of Lou Simpson

Lou Simpson's principles as written in his brochure submitted to the SEC and listed in the book Concentrated Investing:

  • Think independently
  • Invest in-high return businesses run for the shareholders
  • Pay only a reasonable price, even for excellent businesses
  • Invest for the long-term
  • Do not diversify excessively


 These are quotes taken from the Kellogg school of management--

"There are a few factors that we look at. First, is this the business we thought it was? If you figure out that a business is not what you thought it was, that’s a bad sign."

The second factor is the management, which can also differ from what you thought. Unfortunately, a lot of managements are very short-term oriented, and that can be another reason to sell. This goes back to the basic integrity and the focus of people in charge.

The third factor is an overly high valuation, and this is often the most difficult, because you’re investing in something you wouldn’t buy at current prices, but you don’t want to sell because it’s a really good business and you think it’s ahead of itself on a price basis. It might be worth holding on to it for a while."

"I think you need a combination of quantitative and qualitative skills. Most people now have the quantitative skills. The qualitative skills develop over time."

"Everyone talks about modelling—and it’s probably helpful to do modelling—but if you can be approximately right, you will do well."

"One thing you need to determine is: Are the company’s leaders honest? Do they have integrity? Do they have huge turnover? Do they treat their people poorly? Does the CEO believe in running the business for the long term, or is he or she focused on the next quarter’s consensus earnings?"

"The essence [of my investment philosophy] is simplicity"

"What we do is run a long-time-horizon portfolio comprised of ten to fifteen stocks. Most of them are U.S.-based, and they all have similar characteristics. Basically, they’re good businesses. They have a high return on capitalconsistently good returns, and they’re run by leaders who want to create long-term value for shareholders while also treating their stakeholders right."

"You can only know so many companies. If you're managing 50 or 100 positions, the chances that you can add value are much, much lower.

"... be very careful with each decision you make. The more decisions you make, the higher the chances are that you will make a poor decision."

"One thing a lot of investors do is they cut their flowers and water their weeds. They sell their winners and keep their losers, hoping the losers will come back even. Generally, it’s more effective to cut your weeds and water your flowers. Sell the things that didn't work out, and let the things that are working out run."

"If I’ve made one mistake in the course of managing investments it was selling really good companies too soon. Because generally, if you’ve made good investments, they will last for a long time."

"Of course, things can change. Amazon is changing the retail business quite dramatically."

"The biggest difference between Warren and me is that Warren had a much harder job. He was managing 20 times the amount of money we were."

"If somebody’s going to invest using hot tips, or listening to CNBC, or investing with so-called wealth managers at brokerage firms, I think it’s a loser’s game for them."

Zero Management Fees-- Mark Chapman

ZERO MANAGEMENT FEES – A SURVEY

From: Mark Chapman
mchapman@aquamarinefund.com
Date: August 30, 2017

INTRODUCTION AND HEALTH WARNING.

My goal in researching and writing this note was to shed some more light on a relatively obscure and little studied corner of the world of alternative investments –whereby a professional money manager does not charge an asset management fee.

To get a better sense of this universe, I used two sources:

Firstly, and with the help of Aaron Westlund of Poor Creek Capital, I reviewed forms ADVart 1 which are filed by United States based investment advisors who are regulated by the SEC as well as by state-regulated investment advisors.

Because of the paucity of data from those forms I also canvassed hedge funds around the world through email, social media and personal contacts to find out more in an adhoc way. I did this work informally and alongside my work as a director of the Aquamarine Fund.

In reaching my conclusions I have taken at face value and on trust statements that have not necessarily been properly verified. Thus, none of the data and conclusions presented here should be considered conclusive or authoritative. Rather, they should be considered a jumping off point for further conversation and discussion.

In that spirit, please do provide me with feedback and updated, or more accurate information, so that I can incorporate it into this write-up and redistribute to you. The rest of this paper is divided into the following sections:

1. SHORT HISTORY OF HEDGE FUNDS AND FEE STRUCTURES
2. DATA & FINDINGS
3. CONCLUSIONS AND THOUGHTS
4. SURVEY RESPONSES

1. SHORT HISTORY OF HEDGE FUNDS AND FEE STRUCTURES
Hedge funds and their associated fee structures originated in the early fifties when an Australian-American, Alfred Winslow Homer, started what is considered to be the first hedge fund. There were two key innovative features to his fund: Zero Management Fees
Mark Chapman mchapman@aquamarinefund.com

• First, he combined two apparently risky strategies – shorting and leverage, with the goal of delivering better returns and lower volatility.

• Second, and unlike mutual funds, he did not charge a management fee. His fee structure was simply to take 20% of the profits each year.

Later that decade, Warren Buffett started his partnership, and he also did not charge a management fee. Moreover, instead of asking for 20% of the profits, he added a hurdle of 6% and a 25% performance fee. Subsequent to that, others also started funds, although few stuck to Buffett’s and Winslow’s zero management fee formula. Many funds standardized on a “One and Twenty” model.

But some went to “Two and Twenty”. And in his heyday, Steve Cohen’s SAC Capital is reputed to have gone as high as “Five and Fifty”. But the world seems to have shifted. Hedge fund returns have moderated and we have witnessed a boom in indexing, index funds and ETF’s. In this environment, while Two and Twenty still seems to be the most popular approach, there appears to be a trend to dial back down the fees that hedge fund managers charge their clients. This takes place through various mechanisms. In addition to simply reducing the percentage charged, the following are also used:

• Introduce a “high water mark” mechanism ensures that the manager has recouped all prior losses for an investor before the manager earns a performance fee with respect to that investor

• Introduce a “hurdle rate”, which requires the fund to achieve a stated return before the manager can earn a performance fee The benefits of lower fees are oftentimes offset by a “lock-up period” which specifies when an investor can or cannot make a withdrawal from the fund. So today, there exists at one end of the hedge fund fee spectrum a Two and Twenty like structure, where the manager’s approach is often: “If you don’t like it, go and invest somewhere else, as I need to be rewarded for my work even if I don’t make you any money”. But gaining popularity right at the other end of the spectrum is what we can call the zero management fee structure, where the manager only gets rewarded through a performance fee if he makes money, over a hurdle rate, for his investors.

2. DATA AND FINDINGS

In the universe of investment advisers registered with the SEC with Assets Under Management of over $100,000,000 there are just three advisers that manage private hedge funds and who only charge a performance fee (i.e. zero management fee) across all entities they advise. These are Quantitative Investment Management, Biglari Capital and Piper Jaffray Investment Management.

The underlying private hedge funds of these 3 advisers are Quantitative Tactical Aggressive Funds, The Lion Funds and Piper Jaffray Municipal Opportunities Fund. For state-registered investment advisers with Assets Under Management less than $100,000,000, there are only eleven advisers that manage active private hedge funds and who only charge a performance fee (i.e. zero management fee) across all entities they advise.

These funds are: Lockbox I, Steele Partners, Klute Capital Fund, Prelude Opportunity Fund, Lucky Man Partners, Weidmann Capital Partners, Asset Appreciation Fund of America, Wellford Partners, Bridge Reid Fund, Krohne Fund, Borman Creek Capital and SG3 Capital. This is a miniscule fraction - considering the tens of thousands of Registered Investment Advisers in the US. But there is one wrinkle that suggests that the number might be higher:

While many advisors do charge a performance-only fee to some of their funds, clients or classes they also manage other funds, clients or classes where a performance and management fee is charged and it’s just not possible, with the available data, to isolate and separate out data which will show advisors who charge a blend – performance-only to some funds/clients/classes versus performance and management fee for others. Take the Pabrai Funds for example.

It is well documented that Mohnish Pabrai has not charged his Pabrai Investment Funds investors a management fee for very many years. However, on his Form ADV, the box “compensated by a percentage of assets” is ticked. This is surely the case for many other advisors, who in reality only charge performance fees.



Aaron Westlund adds colour to this: “Some of our initial non-accredited investors didn’t qualify to be charged an actual performance fee. So, for those initial nonaccredited investors (we no longer have any non-accredited investors), we put in a management fee but committed that we would waive that fee down to what would have been charged as a performance fee instead”.

Notwithstanding what appears to be a small number of advisers that charge only a performance fee across all their funds, I was inundated with commentary from advisors and their friends across the globe about individual funds charging performance fees only (i.e. zero management fee funds or classes within a fund). The chart below shows where our responses came from and not surprisingly the USA was top of the list with 41%.


Some features from the commentary that was received from zero management fee managers follow: 

The lock-up period for investors was generally one year but in some cases, there was no lock up and in one case a three year lock up. In general, I found that for funds offering zero management fees, the percentage of the fund beneficially owned by the manager and related persons was higher than I would normally expect to see in a private fund. I thank Rhys Summerton, from Milkwood Capital Limited who flagged this up for me when he wrote “I suspect what you will find is that the higher percentage of own capital of a fund, the more the fund manager will accept zero management fees and focus on performance fees”. Almost 100% of the respondents issued their NAV’s monthly and the predominant fund strategy was long only in a global geography. The most telling feature however was the significant number of managers who claimed to be value investors. 

Whilst acknowledging that our sample size was small and there could be an element of bias on account of the fact that I am the director of a value fund, it is an interesting question whether managers who focus on value investing also believe they should only be rewarded if they perform significantly better that the market. The most popular performance fee structure in the zero management fee environment was a twenty-five percent (25%) annual incentive allocation in excess of a six percent (6%) non-cumulative hurdle return calculated annually, compared to the typical a twenty percent (20%) annual incentive allocation in the Two and Twenty scenario. However, this did vary up to thirty percent (30%) annual incentive allocation in excess of an eight percent (8%) hurdle.

I also found that new investors, when given the choice, were more likely to pick a zero management fee class rather than a Two and Twenty class, signifying a general investor recognition than managers should be compensated for performance. However, for tax reasons I found that existing investors in a fund offering both options in different classes, were often loathe to shift to the zero management fee class as they would likely crystallize a taxable gain on the change in class.

In addition, I found several innovative fee structures, for example one run by Orbis Investments, called the Refundable Reserve Fee share class, where the high-water mark concept is scrapped. The performance fee is based on the relative performance experienced by each client and such performance fees are refunded in the event of subsequent under performance. I thank Dan Brocklebank of Orbis Investments for sharing their complex but very fair fee arrangements with me.

3. CONCLUSIONS AND THOUGHTS

Upon further thought, the apparent rise in managers’ willingness to reduce their fees is rather remarkable – given the hurdles – or barriers standing in the way of a manager who does not want to charge his clients an asset management fee. The first is that unless the manager has some other source of income, or is independently wealthy, implementing a zero management fee structure is a real stretch for most managers. Many of them desperately want to do it but the reality is that covering start-up expenses and the risk of a general market downturn in the first years of operation make in likely that few will venture this path. For while every manager will do their level best to outperform from year one, periods of underperformance are a fact of life and in a zero management fee environment, the manager may have to sustain years of operating losses before breaking even on the enterprise. Thus, only the very luckiest or very best managers will be able to finance their first period of operations with no management fee unless they have the private, personal or family financial wherewithal to survive the start-up period.

For example, David Shapiro of Willis Towers Watson shared with me the story of Bedlam Asset Management, a UK based manager, launched in 2002 ridiculing 'grossly overpaid' fund managers and using the slogan: 'No gain, no fee'. Bedlam was never really able to achieve the gains needed to make enough money for its performance-fee model to thrive but they did run for ten years before closing quietly in 2013, having got their AUM to over $500 million.

So, while new managers are not necessarily opting for Two and Twenty, they usually charge some sort of management fee to get their operation started, even if it is expensebased rather that asset-based.

Thus, existing managers often offer a blend of management and performance fees to exiting investors and performance only fees to new investors. The Aquamarine Fund, where I am a director has such a structure. In our case, the manager can afford to not get paid any performance fee for a significant period, relying on the pre-existing management fee for his survival. For example, from 2014 to the start of 2017, performance fee only investors paid Guy Spier nothing for his expertise and his efforts. While those periods may not be comfortable, they are doable.

And if this does not present a fraught enough picture for the aspiring zero management fee manager, he can have no doubt that the fund’s attorneys and other advisors will strongly counsel him against this course of action – at least in part because they are mindful of the need to pay one’s bills – especially theirs.

But in spite of these significant hurdles, I have no doubt that a multitude of zero management fee structures are currently being established.

Why is that?

Part of the reason is the competition that comes from indexing. Even Warren Buffett – who used to run a zero management fee fund now advocates for low-cost index funds. With so much money flowing into that part of the market and with many traditional hedge funds underperforming, managers feel the pressure to be able to demonstrably deliver value and driving their fees down is a way to do that.

Also, part of the explanation is that investors are becoming increasingly sophisticated, and understand quite clearly that in the case of indexing, by being forced to buy into the most over-valued members of the index, they may actually be setting themselves up for inferior results.

But rather than opt for a flat-fee manager, sophisticated investors realize that the only managers who would be willing to go to all the trouble and expense of setting up a fund in which they only get paid if they outperform a hurdle are the ones who are capable of outperforming. If one believes that, then simply choosing to invest in funds with zero management fees may be the best way to identify and invest with the best managers.

Even if only some investors think this way, that may be enough reason to entice better managers (or at least those with a high opinion of themselves) to step up and go the extra mile with a frugal fee structure.

Thus, offering a zero management fee structure may serve as a kind of signal for prospective investors.  

If this is indeed the case, there is a lot more for fund managers to do in order to signal that they can beat the market. In most cases the annual hurdle rate is 6%, which makes a lot of sense. Most investors should be contented with a 6% annual return. But in the case of most funds with a 6% hurdle, it also has the feature that it is non-cumulative. That means if you are down 6% one year, the next year your hurdle isn’t 18% but it reverts to 6%.

A manager that truly wanted to signal his confidence in delivering superior annualized returns would be able to demonstrate that - by making their hurdle a cumulative one. So far, very few have done that.

Tony Hansen added:

 “Another factor you will find commonplace in zero fee managers is their willingness to restrict the size of their AUM, to ensure they can generate returns at a level that will be sufficient to generate performance fees. They are far less prone to becoming ‘asset gatherers’ as this could potentially reduce their capacity to earn fees. To this end, my own fund ‘soft-closed’ at $50m (i.e. only existing unitholders can contribute further) and will ‘hard-close’ at $100m (i.e. no further additions – save for a once annual offer to replace redeemed funds). This relatively modest AUM will allow me the long runway I seek (30- 40 years) with excess size not likely to become an impediment for many years.”

Other Sources

Alfred Winslow Jones https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfred_Winslow_Jones The Jones nobody keeps up with –

Carol Loomis in Fortune Magazine – 1966. http://fortune.com/2015/12/29/hedge-funds-fortune-1966/b

Donald Knuth -- My advice to young people


Donald Knuth –

If you think you're a really good programmer... read [Knuth's] Art of Computer Programming... You should definitely send me a resume if you can read the whole thing.
—Bill Gates


What advice would I give to a young person?

My advice to young people—
Don’t just believe  because something is trendy, it’s good. In fact, I’d probably go the other extreme. If I find too many people adopting a certain idea, I’d probably think it is wrong.

If my work has become too popular, I’d think I'd have to change.

This may seem ridiculous but, I see the other side of it too often where people go against their gut instinct and even though they aren’t terrible interested in it because they think that they’ll get more prestige and the community wants them to do it a certain way. But I think you get more prestige by doing good science than doing popular science. Because if you go with what you really think is important then, there is a higher chance that it really is important in the long run. And it is the long run that has the most benefit to the world.

Usually when I’m writing or publishing a book, it is different from what is done before. Because I feel like there is a need for such a book, not because there was somebody saying, “Please write such as book.” Following your own instincts it seems to me, is better than following the herd.  

My friend Peter Wegner told me in the 60’s that for "The Art of Computer Programming"-- I shouldn’t write the whole series, I should first write a reader’s digest then expand on parts afterwards. 

That would probably work for him—but I work in a completely different way. I have to see something to a point where I’ve surrounded it and totally understood it before I can comfortable write about it with any confidence. That’s the way I work. I don't want to  write about a high level thing unless I fully understood a low level thing. People have completely different strengths—I know.

I need firm pegs in which I can hang knowledge about a subject. If I went through life without any in-depth knowledge about any part, then it all seems to be flimsy. It doesn’t give me any satisfaction. The classic phrase is that a liberal education is to “try to learn everything about something and something about everything.” 

To me,  I like this idea about learning everything about an area— if you don’t know something really solid, then you never have enough confidence.  A lot of times I have to read through a lot of material in order to write just one sentence. 

I will choose words which will be more convincing than if I really don’t have the knowledge—it will somehow come out implicitly in the writing.

These are just some vague thoughts that I have when reflecting over some of the directions that distinguishes  what I’ve done from what I’ve seen other people do (in the subject of computer science).     



Why I don’t use email

It is best for me to be a bit of a hermit and have time for things which require a long attention span with no interruptions. I started email in 1975 and stopped in 1990. 15 years was a life time’s worth, because people would just shoot me questions as a random oracle. I would dutifully reply with well-constructed sentences and 4 hours later, when I am back on my research, I’ve lost a lot of time.
On the other hand, I’m impatient too, when I asked my secretary to send an email last week to a guy, I’m mad he hasn’t replied immediately. So I’m not being fair. I’m imposing on other people and not letting them be imposing on me. 

Monday, February 10, 2020

Solitude and Leadership


Solitude and Leadership
If you want others to follow, learn to be alone with your thoughts
By William Deresiewicz | March 1, 2010




The lecture below was delivered to the plebe class at the United States Military Academy at West Point in October 2009.


My title must seem like a contradiction. What can solitude have to do with leadership? Solitude means being alone, and leadership necessitates the presence of others—the people you’re leading. When we think about leadership in American history we are likely to think of Washington, at the head of an army, or Lincoln, at the head of a nation, or King, at the head of a movement—people with multitudes behind them, looking to them for direction. And when we think of solitude, we are apt to think of Thoreau, a man alone in the woods, keeping a journal and communing with nature in silence.
Leadership is what you are here to learn—the qualities of character and mind that will make you fit to command a platoon, and beyond that, perhaps, a company, a battalion, or, if you leave the military, a corporation, a foundation, a department of government. Solitude is what you have the least of here, especially as plebes. You don’t even have privacy, the opportunity simply to be physically alone, never mind solitude, the ability to be alone with your thoughts. And yet I submit to you that solitude is one of the most important necessities of true leadership. This lecture will be an attempt to explain why.
We need to begin by talking about what leadership really means. I just spent 10 years teaching at another institution that, like West Point, liked to talk a lot about leadership, Yale University. A school that some of you might have gone to had you not come here, that some of your friends might be going to. And if not Yale, then Harvard, Stanford, MIT, and so forth. These institutions, like West Point, also see their role as the training of leaders, constantly encourage their students, like West Point, to regard themselves as leaders among their peers and future leaders of society. Indeed, when we look around at the American elite, the people in charge of government, business, academia, and all our other major institutions—senators, judges, CEOs, college presidents, and so forth—we find that they come overwhelmingly either from the Ivy League and its peer institutions or from the service academies, especially West Point.
So I began to wonder, as I taught at Yale, what leadership really consists of. My students, like you, were energetic, accomplished, smart, and often ferociously ambitious, but was that enough to make them leaders? Most of them, as much as I liked and even admired them, certainly didn’t seem to me like  leaders. Does being a leader, I wondered, just mean being accomplished, being successful? Does getting straight As make you a leader? I didn’t think so. Great heart surgeons or great novelists or great shortstops may be terrific at what they do, but that doesn’t mean they’re leaders. Leadership and aptitude, leadership and achievement, leadership and even ex­cellence have to be different things, otherwise the concept of leadership has no meaning. And it seemed to me that that had to be especially true of the kind of excellence I saw in the students around me.
See, things have changed since I went to college in the ’80s. Everything has gotten much more intense. You have to do much more now to get into a top school like Yale or West Point, and you have to start a lot earlier. We didn’t begin thinking about college until we were juniors, and maybe we each did a couple of extracurriculars. But I know what it’s like for you guys now. It’s an endless series of hoops that you have to jump through, starting from way back, maybe as early as junior high school. Classes, standardized tests, extracurriculars in school, extracurriculars outside of school. Test prep courses, admissions coaches, private tutors. I sat on the Yale College admissions committee a couple of years ago. The first thing the admissions officer would do when presenting a case to the rest of the committee was read what they call the “brag” in admissions lingo, the list of the student’s extracurriculars. Well, it turned out that a student who had six or seven extracurriculars was already in trouble. Because the students who got in—in addition to perfect grades and top scores—usually had 10 or 12.
So what I saw around me were great kids who had been trained to be world-class hoop jumpers. Any goal you set them, they could achieve. Any test you gave them, they could pass with flying colors. They were, as one of them put it herself, “excellent sheep.” I had no doubt that they would continue to jump through hoops and ace tests and go on to Harvard Business School, or Michigan Law School, or Johns Hopkins Medical School, or Goldman Sachs, or McKinsey consulting, or whatever. And this approach would indeed take them far in life. They would come back for their 25th reunion as a partner at White & Case, or an attending physician at Mass General, or an assistant secretary in the Department of State.
That is exactly what places like Yale mean when they talk about training leaders. Educating people who make a big name for themselves in the world, people with impressive titles, people the university can brag about. People who make it to the top. People who can climb the greasy pole of whatever hierarchy they decide to attach themselves to.


But I think there’s something desperately wrong, and even dangerous, about that idea. To explain why, I want to spend a few minutes talking about a novel that many of you may have read, Heart of Darkness. If you haven’t read it, you’ve probably seen Apocalypse Now, which is based on it. Marlow in the novel becomes Captain Willard, played by Martin Sheen. Kurtz in the novel becomes Colonel Kurtz, played by Marlon Brando. But the novel isn’t about Vietnam; it’s about colonialism in the Belgian Congo three generations before Vietnam. Marlow, not a military officer but a merchant marine, a civilian ship’s captain, is sent by the company that’s running the country under charter from the Belgian crown to sail deep upriver, up the Congo River, to retrieve a manager who’s ensconced himself in the jungle and gone rogue, just like Colonel Kurtz does in the movie.
Now everyone knows that the novel is about imperialism and colonialism and race relations and the darkness that lies in the human heart, but it became clear to me at a certain point, as I taught the novel, that it is also about bureaucracy—what I called, a minute ago, hierarchy. The Company, after all, is just that: a company, with rules and procedures and ranks and people in power and people scrambling for power, just like any other bureaucracy. Just like a big law firm or a governmental department or, for that matter, a university. Just like—and here’s why I’m telling you all this—just like the bureaucracy you are about to join. The word bureaucracy tends to have negative connotations, but I say this in no way as a criticism, merely a description, that the U.S. Army is a bureaucracy and one of the largest and most famously bureaucratic bureaucracies in the world. After all, it was the Army that gave us, among other things, the indispensable bureaucratic acronym “snafu”: “situation normal: all fucked up”—or “all fouled up” in the cleaned-up version. That comes from the U.S. Army in World War II.
You need to know that when you get your commission, you’ll be joining a bureaucracy, and however long you stay in the Army, you’ll be operating within a bureaucracy. As different as the armed forces are in so many ways from every other institution in society, in that respect they are the same. And so you need to know how bureaucracies operate, what kind of behavior—what kind of character—they reward, and what kind they punish.
So, back to the novel. Marlow proceeds upriver by stages, just like Captain Willard does in the movie. First he gets to the Outer Station. Kurtz is at the Inner Station. In between is the Central Station, where Marlow spends the most time, and where we get our best look at bureaucracy in action and the kind of people who succeed in it. This is Marlow’s description of the manager of the Central Station, the big boss:
He was commonplace in complexion, in features, in manners, and in voice. He was of middle size and of ordinary build. His eyes, of the usual blue, were perhaps remarkably cold. . . . Otherwise there was only an indefinable, faint expression of his lips, something stealthy—a smile—not a smile—I remember it, but I can’t explain. . . . He was a common trader, from his youth up employed in these parts—nothing more. He was obeyed, yet he inspired neither love nor fear, nor even respect. He inspired uneasiness. That was it! Uneasiness. Not a definite mistrust—just uneasiness—nothing more. You have no idea how effective such a . . . a . . . faculty can be. He had no genius for organizing, for initiative, or for order even. . . . He had no learning, and no intelligence. His position had come to him—why? . . . He originated nothing, he could keep the routine going—that’s all. But he was great. He was great by this little thing that it was impossible to tell what could control such a man. He never gave that secret away. Perhaps there was nothing within him. Such a suspicion made one pause.
Note the adjectives: commonplaceordinaryusualcommon. There is nothing distinguished about this person. About the 10th time I read that passage, I realized it was a perfect description of the kind of person who tends to prosper in the bureaucratic environment. And the only reason I did is because it suddenly struck me that it was a perfect description of the head of the bureaucracy that I was part of, the chairman of my academic department—who had that exact same smile, like a shark, and that exact same ability to make you uneasy, like you were doing something wrong, only she wasn’t ever going to tell you what. Like the manager—and I’m sorry to say this, but like so many people you will meet as you negotiate the bureaucracy of the Army or for that matter of whatever institution you end up giving your talents to after the Army, whether it’s Microsoft or the World Bank or whatever—the head of my department had no genius for organizing or initiative or even order, no particular learning or intelligence, no distinguishing characteristics at all. Just the ability to keep the routine going, and beyond that, as Marlow says, her position had come to her—why?
That’s really the great mystery about bureaucracies. Why is it so often that the best people are stuck in the middle and the people who are running things—the leaders—are the mediocrities? Because excellence isn’t usually what gets you up the greasy pole. What gets you up is a talent for maneuvering. Kissing up to the people above you, kicking down to the people below you. Pleasing your teachers, pleasing your superiors, picking a powerful mentor and riding his coattails until it’s time to stab him in the back. Jumping through hoops. Getting along by going along. Being whatever other people want you to be, so that it finally comes to seem that, like the manager of the Central Station, you have nothing inside you at all. Not taking stupid risks like trying to change how things are done or question why they’re done. Just keeping the routine going.


I tell you this to forewarn you, because I promise you that you will meet these people and you will find yourself in environments where what is rewarded above all is conformity. I tell you so you can decide to be a different kind of leader. And I tell you for one other reason. As I thought about these things and put all these pieces together—the kind of students I had, the kind of leadership they were being trained for, the kind of leaders I saw in my own institution—I realized that this is a national problem. We have a crisis of leadership in this country, in every institution. Not just in government. Look at what happened to American corporations in recent decades, as all the old dinosaurs like General Motors or TWA or U.S. Steel fell apart. Look at what happened to Wall Street in just the last couple of years.
Finally—and I know I’m on sensitive ground here—look at what happened during the first four years of the Iraq War. We were stuck. It wasn’t the fault of the enlisted ranks or the noncoms or the junior officers. It was the fault of the senior leadership, whether military or civilian or both. We weren’t just not winning, we weren’t even changing direction.
We have a crisis of leadership in America because our overwhelming power and wealth, earned under earlier generations of leaders, made us complacent, and for too long we have been training leaders who only know how to keep the routine going. Who can answer questions, but don’t know how to ask them. Who can fulfill goals, but don’t know how to set them. Who think about how to get things done, but not whether they’re worth doing in the first place. What we have now are the greatest technocrats the world has ever seen, people who have been trained to be incredibly good at one specific thing, but who have no interest in anything beyond their area of exper­tise. What we don’t have are leaders.
What we don’t have, in other words, are thinkers. People who can think for themselves. People who can formulate a new direction: for the country, for a corporation or a college, for the Army—a new way of doing things, a new way of looking at things. People, in other words, with vision.
Now some people would say, great. Tell this to the kids at Yale, but why bother telling it to the ones at West Point? Most people, when they think of this institution, assume that it’s the last place anyone would want to talk about thinking creatively or cultivating independence of mind. It’s the Army, after all. It’s no accident that the word regiment is the root of the word regimentation. Surely you who have come here must be the ultimate conformists. Must be people who have bought in to the way things are and have no interest in changing it. Are not the kind of young people who think about the world, who ponder the big issues, who question authority. If you were, you would have gone to Amherst or Pomona. You’re at West Point to be told what to do and how to think.
But you know that’s not true. I know it, too; otherwise I would never have been invited to talk to you, and I’m even more convinced of it now that I’ve spent a few days on campus. To quote Colonel Scott Krawczyk, your course director, in a lecture he gave last year to English 102:
From the very earliest days of this country, the model for our officers, which was built on the model of the citizenry and reflective of democratic ideals, was to be different. They were to be possessed of a democratic spirit marked by independent judgment, the freedom to measure action and to express disagreement, and the crucial responsibility never to tolerate tyranny.
All the more so now. Anyone who’s been paying attention for the last few years understands that the changing nature of warfare means that officers, including junior officers, are required more than ever to be able to think independently, creatively, flexibly. To deploy a whole range of skills in a fluid and complex situation. Lieutenant colonels who are essentially functioning as provincial governors in Iraq, or captains who find themselves in charge of a remote town somewhere in Afghanistan. People who know how to do more than follow orders and execute routines.
Look at the most successful, most acclaimed, and perhaps the finest soldier of his generation, General David Petraeus. He’s one of those rare people who rises through a bureaucracy for the right reasons. He is a thinker. He is an intellectual. In fact, Prospect magazine named him Public Intellectual of the Year in 2008—that’s in the world. He has a Ph.D. from Princeton, but what makes him a thinker is not that he has a Ph.D. or that he went to Princeton or even that he taught at West Point. I can assure you from personal experience that there are a lot of highly educated people who don’t know how to think at all.
No, what makes him a thinker—and a leader—is precisely that he is able to think things through for himself. And because he can, he has the confidence, the courage, to argue for his ideas even when they aren’t popular. Even when they don’t please his superiors. Courage: there is physical courage, which you all possess in abundance, and then there is another kind of courage, moral courage, the courage to stand up for what you believe.
It wasn’t always easy for him. His path to where he is now was not a straight one. When he was running Mosul in 2003 as commander of the 101st Airborne and developing the strategy he would later formulate in the Counterinsurgency Field Manual and then ultimately apply throughout Iraq, he pissed a lot of people off. He was way ahead of the leadership in Baghdad and Washington, and bureaucracies don’t like that sort of thing. Here he was, just another two-star, and he was saying, implicitly but loudly, that the leadership was wrong about the way it was running the war. Indeed, he was not rewarded at first. He was put in charge of training the Iraqi army, which was considered a blow to his career, a dead-end job. But he stuck to his guns, and ultimately he was vindicated. Ironically, one of the central elements of his counterinsurgency strategy is precisely the idea that officers need to think flexibly, creatively, and independently.


That’s the first half of the lecture: the idea that true leadership means being able to think for yourself and act on your convictions. But how do you learn to do that? How do you learn to think? Let’s start with how you don’t learn to think. A study by a team of researchers at Stanford came out a couple of months ago. The investigators wanted to figure out how today’s college students were able to multitask so much more effectively than adults. How do they manage to do it, the researchers asked? The answer, they discovered—and this is by no means what they expected—is that they don’t. The enhanced cognitive abilities the investigators expected to find, the mental faculties that enable people to multitask effectively, were simply not there. In other words, people do not multitask effectively. And here’s the really surprising finding: the more people multitask, the worse they are, not just at other mental abilities, but at multitasking itself.
One thing that made the study different from others is that the researchers didn’t test people’s cognitive functions while they were multitasking. They separated the subject group into high multitaskers and low multitaskers and used a different set of tests to measure the kinds of cognitive abilities involved in multitasking. They found that in every case the high multitaskers scored worse. They were worse at distinguishing between relevant and irrelevant information and ignoring the latter. In other words, they were more distractible. They were worse at what you might call “mental filing”: keeping information in the right conceptual boxes and being able to retrieve it quickly. In other words, their minds were more disorganized. And they were even worse at the very thing that defines multitasking itself: switching between tasks.
Multitasking, in short, is not only not thinking, it impairs your ability to think. Thinking means concentrating on one thing long enough to develop an idea about it. Not learning other people’s ideas, or memorizing a body of information, however much those may sometimes be useful. Developing your own ideas. In short, thinking for yourself. You simply cannot do that in bursts of 20 seconds at a time, constantly interrupted by Facebook messages or Twitter tweets, or fiddling with your iPod, or watching something on YouTube.
I find for myself that my first thought is never my best thought. My first thought is always someone else’s; it’s always what I’ve already heard about the subject, always the conventional wisdom. It’s only by concentrating, sticking to the question, being patient, letting all the parts of my mind come into play, that I arrive at an original idea. By giving my brain a chance to make associations, draw connections, take me by surprise. And often even that idea doesn’t turn out to be very good. I need time to think about it, too, to make mistakes and recognize them, to make false starts and correct them, to outlast my impulses, to defeat my desire to declare the job done and move on to the next thing.
I used to have students who bragged to me about how fast they wrote their papers. I would tell them that the great German novelist Thomas Mann said that a writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people. The best writers write much more slowly than everyone else, and the better they are, the slower they write. James Joyce wrote Ulysses, the greatest novel of the 20th century, at the rate of about a hundred words a day—half the length of the selection I read you earlier from Heart of Darkness—for seven years. T. S. Eliot, one of the greatest poets our country has ever produced, wrote about 150 pages of poetry over the course of his entire 25-year career. That’s half a page a month. So it is with any other form of thought. You do your best thinking by slowing down and concentrating.


Now that’s the third time I’ve used that word, concentrating. Concentrating, focusing. You can just as easily consider this lecture to be about concentration as about solitude. Think about what the word means. It means gathering yourself together into a single point rather than letting yourself be dispersed everywhere into a cloud of electronic and social input. It seems to me that Facebook and Twitter and YouTube—and just so you don’t think this is a generational thing, TV and radio and magazines and even newspapers, too—are all ultimately just an elaborate excuse to run away from yourself. To avoid the difficult and troubling questions that being human throws in your way. Am I doing the right thing with my life? Do I believe the things I was taught as a child? What do the words I live by—words like dutyhonor, and country—really mean? Am I happy?
You and the members of the other service academies are in a unique position among college students, especially today. Not only do you know that you’re going to have a job when you graduate, you even know who your employer is going to be. But what happens after you fulfill your commitment to the Army? Unless you know who you are, how will you figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life? Unless you’re able to listen to yourself, to that quiet voice inside that tells you what you really care about, what you really believe in—indeed, how those things might be evolving under the pressure of your experiences. Students everywhere else agonize over these questions, and while you may not be doing so now, you are only postponing them for a few years.
Maybe some of you are agonizing over them now. Not everyone who starts here decides to finish here. It’s no wonder and no cause for shame. You are being put through the most demanding training anyone can ask of people your age, and you are committing yourself to work of awesome responsibility and mortal danger. The very rigor and regimentation to which you are quite properly subject here naturally has a tendency to make you lose touch with the passion that brought you here in the first place. I saw exactly the same kind of thing at Yale. It’s not that my students were robots. Quite the reverse. They were in­tensely idealistic, but the overwhelming weight of their practical responsibilities, all of those hoops they had to jump through, often made them lose sight of what those ideals were. Why they were doing it all in the first place.
So it’s perfectly natural to have doubts, or questions, or even just difficulties. The question is, what do you do with them? Do you suppress them, do you distract yourself from them, do you pretend they don’t exist? Or do you confront them directly, honestly, courageously? If you decide to do so, you will find that the answers to these dilemmas are not to be found on Twitter or Comedy Central or even in The New York Times. They can only be found within—without distractions, without peer pressure, in solitude.


But let me be clear that solitude doesn’t always have to mean introspection. Let’s go back to Heart of Darkness. It’s the solitude of concentration that saves Marlow amidst the madness of the Central Station. When he gets there he finds out that the steamboat he’s supposed to sail upriver has a giant hole in it, and no one is going to help him fix it. “I let him run on,” he says, “this papier-mâché Mephistopheles”—he’s talking not about the manager but his assistant, who’s even worse, since he’s still trying to kiss his way up the hierarchy, and who’s been raving away at him. You can think of him as the Internet, the ever-present social buzz, chattering away at you 24/7:
I let him run on, this papier-mâché Mephistopheles and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and would find nothing inside but a little loose dirt. . . .
It was a great comfort to turn from that chap to . . . the battered, twisted, ruined, tin-pot steamboat. . . . I had expended enough hard work on her to make me love her. No influential friend would have served me better. She had given me a chance to come out a bit—to find out what I could do. No, I don’t like work. I had rather laze about and think of all the fine things that can be done. I don’t like work—no man does—but I like what is in the work,—the chance to find yourself. Your own reality—for yourself, not for others—what no other man can ever know.
“The chance to find yourself.” Now that phrase, “finding yourself,” has acquired a bad reputation. It suggests an aimless liberal-arts college graduate—an English major, no doubt, someone who went to a place like Amherst or Pomona—who’s too spoiled to get a job and spends his time staring off into space. But here’s Marlow, a mariner, a ship’s captain. A more practical, hardheaded person you could not find. And I should say that Marlow’s creator, Conrad, spent 19 years as a merchant marine, eight of them as a ship’s captain, before he became a writer, so this wasn’t just some artist’s idea of a sailor. Marlow believes in the need to find yourself just as much as anyone does, and the way to do it, he says, is work, solitary work. Concentration. Climbing on that steamboat and spending a few uninterrupted hours hammering it into shape. Or building a house, or cooking a meal, or even writing a college paper, if you really put yourself into it.
“Your own reality—for yourself, not for others.” Thinking for yourself means finding yourself, finding your own reality. Here’s the other problem with Facebook and Twitter and even The New York Times. When you expose yourself to those things, especially in the constant way that people do now—older people as well as younger people—you are continuously bombarding yourself with a stream of other people’s thoughts. You are marinating yourself in the conventional wisdom. In other people’s reality: for others, not for yourself. You are creating a cacophony in which it is impossible to hear your own voice, whether it’s yourself you’re thinking about or anything else. That’s what Emerson meant when he said that “he who should inspire and lead his race must be defended from travelling with the souls of other men, from living, breathing, reading, and writing in the daily, time-worn yoke of their opinions.” Notice that he uses the word lead. Leadership means finding a new direction, not simply putting yourself at the front of the herd that’s heading toward the cliff.


So why is reading books any better than reading tweets or wall posts? Well, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes, you need to put down your book, if only to think about what you’re reading, what you think about what you’re reading. But a book has two advantages over a tweet. First, the person who wrote it thought about it a lot more carefully. The book is the result of his solitude, his attempt to think for himself.
Second, most books are old. This is not a disadvantage: this is precisely what makes them valuable. They stand against the conventional wisdom of today simply because they’re not from today. Even if they merely reflect the conventional wisdom of their own day, they say something different from what you hear all the time. But the great books, the ones you find on a syllabus, the ones people have continued to read, don’t reflect the conventional wisdom of their day. They say things that have the permanent power to disrupt our habits of thought. They were revolutionary in their own time, and they are still revolutionary today. And when I say “revolutionary,” I am deliberately evoking the American Revolution, because it was a result of precisely this kind of independent thinking. Without solitude—the solitude of Adams and Jefferson and Hamilton and Madison and Thomas Paine—there would be no America.
So solitude can mean introspection, it can mean the concentration of focused work, and it can mean sustained reading. All of these help you to know yourself better. But there’s one more thing I’m going to include as a form of solitude, and it will seem counterintuitive: friendship. Of course friendship is the opposite of solitude; it means being with other people. But I’m talking about one kind of friendship in particular, the deep friendship of intimate conversation. Long, uninterrupted talk with one other person. Not Skyping with three people and texting with two others at the same time while you hang out in a friend’s room listening to music and studying. That’s what Emerson meant when he said that “the soul environs itself with friends, that it may enter into a grander self-acquaintance or solitude.”
Introspection means talking to yourself, and one of the best ways of talking to yourself is by talking to another person. One other person you can trust, one other person to whom you can unfold your soul. One other person you feel safe enough with to allow you to acknowledge things—to acknowledge things to yourself—that you otherwise can’t. Doubts you aren’t supposed to have, questions you aren’t supposed to ask. Feelings or opinions that would get you laughed at by the group or reprimanded by the authorities.
This is what we call thinking out loud, discovering what you believe in the course of articulating it. But it takes just as much time and just as much patience as solitude in the strict sense. And our new electronic world has disrupted it just as violently. Instead of having one or two true friends that we can sit and talk to for three hours at a time, we have 968 “friends” that we never actually talk to; instead we just bounce one-line messages off them a hundred times a day. This is not friendship, this is distraction.


I know that none of this is easy for you. Even if you threw away your cell phones and unplugged your computers, the rigors of your training here keep you too busy to make solitude, in any of these forms, anything less than very difficult to find. But the highest reason you need to try is precisely because of what the job you are training for will demand of you.
You’ve probably heard about the hazing scandal at the U.S. naval base in Bahrain that was all over the news recently. Terrible, abusive stuff that involved an entire unit and was orchestrated, allegedly, by the head of the unit, a senior noncommissioned officer. What are you going to do if you’re confronted with a situation like that going on in your unit? Will you have the courage to do what’s right? Will you even know what the right thing is? It’s easy to read a code of conduct, not so easy to put it into practice, especially if you risk losing the loyalty of the people serving under you, or the trust of your peer officers, or the approval of your superiors. What if you’re not the commanding officer, but you see your superiors condoning something you think is wrong?
How will you find the strength and wisdom to challenge an unwise order or question a wrongheaded policy? What will you do the first time you have to write a letter to the mother of a slain soldier? How will you find words of comfort that are more than just empty formulas?
These are truly formidable dilemmas, more so than most other people will ever have to face in their lives, let alone when they’re 23. The time to start preparing yourself for them is now. And the way to do it is by thinking through these issues for yourself—morality, mortality, honor—so you will have the strength to deal with them when they arise. Waiting until you have to confront them in practice would be like waiting for your first firefight to learn how to shoot your weapon. Once the situation is upon you, it’s too late. You have to be prepared in advance. You need to know, already, who you are and what you believe: not what the Army believes, not what your peers believe (that may be exactly the problem), but what you believe.
How can you know that unless you’ve taken counsel with yourself in solitude? I started by noting that solitude and leadership would seem to be contradictory things. But it seems to me that solitude is the very essence of leadership. The position of the leader is ultimately an intensely solitary, even intensely lonely one. However many people you may consult, you are the one who has to make the hard decisions. And at such moments, all you really have is yourself.
Permission required for reprinting, reproducing, or other uses.

Friday, December 20, 2019

Investing in the Unknown and Unknowable



                                                                            Capitalism and Society

Volume 1, Issue 2                           2006                                         Article 5

Investing in the Unknown and Unknowable

Richard Zeckhauser Harvard University 
Copyright (c) 2006 The Berkeley Electronic Press.  All rights reserved

                            Abstract

  
From David Ricardo making a fortune buying British government bonds on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo to Warren Buffett selling insurance to the California earthquake authority, the wisest investors have earned extraordinary returns by investing in the unknown and hte unknowable (UU).  But they have done so on a reasoned, sensible basis.  This easay explains some of the central principles that such investors employ.  It starts by discussing "ignorance," a widespread situation in the real world of investing, where even the possible states of the world are not known.  Traditional finance theory does not apply in UU situations.
Strategic thinking, deducing what other investors might know or not, and assessing whether they might be deterred from investing, for example due to fiduciary requirements, frequently point the way to profitability.  Most big investment payouts come when money is combined with complementary skills, such as knowing how to develop real estate or new technologies.  Those who lack these skills can look for "sidecar" investments that allow them to put their money alongside that of people they know to be both capable and honest. The reader is asked to consider a number of usch investments.
Central concepts in decision analysis, game theory, and behavioral decision are deployed along-side real investment decisions to unearch successful investment strategies.  There strategies are distiled into eight investment maxims.  Learning to invest more wisely in a UU world may be the most promising way to significantly bolster your properity.
KEYWORDS: investing, unknown, unknowable, sidecar investment, fattailed distribution, buffett, Kelly Criterion, asymmetric information.
David Ricardo made a fortune buying bonds from the British government four days in advance of the Battle of Waterloo. He was not a military analyst, and even if he were, he had no basis to compute the odds of Napoleon’s defeat or victory, or hard-to-identify ambiguous outcomes. Thus, he was investing in the unknown and the unknowable. Still, he knew that competition was thin, that the seller was eager, and that his windfall pounds should Napoleon lose would be worth much more than the pounds he’d lose should Napoleon win. Ricardo knew a good bet when he saw it.1

This essay discusses how to identify good investments when the level of uncertainty is well beyond that considered in traditional models of finance. Many of the investments considered here are one-time only, implying that past data will be a poor guide. In addition, the essay will highlight investments, such as real estate development, that require complementary skills. Most readers will not have such skills, but many will know others who do. When possible, it is often wise to make investments alongside them.

Though investments are the ultimate interest, the focus of the analysis is how to deal with the unknown and unknowable, hereafter abbreviated UU.  Hence, I will sometimes discuss salient problems outside of finance, such as terrorist attacks, which are also unknown and unknowable.

This essay takes no derivatives, and runs no regressions.2 In short, it eschews the normal tools of my profession. It represents a blend of insights derived from reading academic works and from trying to teach their insights to others, and from lessons learned from direct and at-a-distance experiences with a number of successful investors in the UU world. To reassure my academic audience, I use footnotes where possible, though many refer to accessible internet articles in preference to journals and books. Throughout this essay, you will find speculations and maxims, as seems called for by the topic. They will be labeled in sequence.

This informal approach seems appropriate given our present understanding of the topic. Initial beliefs about this topic are highly uncertain, or as statisticians would phrase it: “Prior distributions are diffuse.” Given that, the judicious use of illustrations, and prudent attempts to provide taxonomies and sort tea leaves, can substantially hone our beliefs, that is, tighten our future predictions.

Part I of this essay talks about risk, uncertainty, and ignorance, the last carrying us beyond traditional discussions. Part II looks at behavioral economics, the tendency for humans to deviate in systematic ways from rational decision, particularly when probabilities are involved, as they always are with investments. Behavioral economics pervades the UU world. Part III addresses the role of skilled mathematical types now so prevalent in finance. It imparts a general lesson: If super-talented people will be your competitors in an investment arena, perhaps it is best not to invest. Its second half discusses a dispute between math types on money management, namely how much of your money to invest when you do have an edge.  Part IV details when to invest when you can make more out of an investment, but there is a better informed person on the other side of the transaction. Part V tells a Buffett tale, and draws appropriate inferences. Part VI concludes.


I.  RISK, UNCERTAINTY AND IGNORANCE

Escalating challenges to effective investing. The essence of effective investment is to select assets that will fare well when future states of the world become known. When the probabilities of future states of assets are known, as the efficient markets hypothesis posits, wise investing involves solving a sophisticated optimization problem. Of course, such probabilities are often unknown, banishing us from the world of the capital asset pricing model (CAPM), and thrusting us into the world of uncertainty.3

Were the financial world predominantly one of mere uncertainty, the greatest financial successes would come to those individuals best able to assess probabilities. That skill, often claimed as the domain of Bayesian decision theory, would swamp sophisticated optimization as the promoter of substantial returns.

The real world of investing often ratchets the level of non-knowledge into still another dimension, where even the identity and nature of possible future states are not known. This is the world of ignorance. In it, there is no way that one can sensibly assign probabilities to the unknown states of the world. Just as traditional finance theory hits the wall when it encounters uncertainty, modern decision theory hits the wall when addressing the world of ignorance. I shall employ the acronym UU to refer to situations where both the identity of possible future states of the world as well as their probabilities are unknown and unknowable. Table 1 outlines the three escalating categories; entries are explained throughout the paper.



This essay has both dreary and positive conclusions about investing in a UU world. The first dreary conclusion is that unknowable situations are widespread and inevitable. Consider the consequences for financial markets of global warming, future terrorist activities, or the most promising future technologies. These outcomes are as unknowable today as were the 1997 Asian meltdown, the 9/11 attacks, or the NASDAQ soar and swoon at the end of the century, shortly before they were experienced.

These were all aggregate unknowables, affecting a broad swath of investors. But many unknowables are idiosyncratic or personal, affecting only individuals or

miles to the west of the city, will they come? Will the Vietnamese government let me sell my insurance product on a widespread basis? Will my friend’s new software program capture the public fancy, or if not might it succeed in a completely different application? Such idiosyncratic UU situations, I argue below, present the greatest potential for significant excess investment returns.

The second dreary conclusion is that most investors – whose training, if any, fits a world where states and probabilities are assumed known – have little idea of how to deal with the unknowable. When they recognize its presence, they tend to steer clear, often to protect themselves from sniping by others. But for all but the simplest investments, entanglement is inevitable – and when investors do get entangled they tend to make significant errors.

The first positive conclusion is that unknowable situations have been and will be associated with remarkably powerful investment returns. The second positive conclusion is that there are systematic ways to think about unknowable situations. If these ways are followed, they can provide a path to extraordinary expected investment returns. To be sure, some substantial losses are inevitable, and some will be blameworthy after the fact. But the net expected results, even after allowing for risk aversion, will be strongly positive.
Do not read on, however, if blame aversion is a prime concern: The world of UU is not for you. Consider this analogy. If in an unknowable world none of your bridges fall down, you are building them too strong. Similarly, if in an unknowable world none of your investment looks foolish after the fact, you are staying too far away from the unknowable.

Warren Buffett, a master at investing in the unknowable, and therefore a featured player in this essay, is fond of saying that playing contract bridge is the best training for business. Bridge requires a continual effort to assess probabilities in at best marginally knowable situations, and players need to make hundreds of decisions in a single session, often balancing expected gains and losses. But players must also continually make peace with good decisions that lead to bad outcomes, both one’s own decisions and those of a partner. Just this peacemaking skill is required if one is to invest wisely in an unknowable world.

The nature of unknowable events. Many of the events that we classify as unknowable arrive in an unanticipated thunderclap, giving us little or no time to anticipate or prepare. But once they happen, they do not appear that strange. The human mind has an incredible ability to find a rationalization for why it should have been able to conjecture the terror attack of 9/11; or the Asian tsunamis of 1997 and 2005, respectively caused by currency collapse and underwater earthquake. This propensity to incorporate hindsight into our memories – and to do so particularly our ability to anticipate extreme events in the future. We learn insufficiently from our misestimates and mistaken decisions.

Other unknowable events occur over a period of time, as did the collapse of the Soviet Union. Consider most stock market swings. Starting in January 1996, the NASDAQ rose five-fold in four years. Then it reversed field and fell by two thirds in three years. Such developments are hardly thunderclaps. They are more like blowing up a balloon and then dribbling out the air. In retrospect, these remarkable swings have lost the flavor of an unknowable event, even though financial markets are not supposed to work that way. If securities prices at any moment incorporate all relevant information, a property that is usually posited, long-term movements in one direction are hardly possible, since strong runs of unanticipated good news or bad news will be exceedingly rare. Similarly, the AIDS scourge now seems familiar territory, though 25 years ago – when there had been only 31 cumulative deaths in the U.S. from AIDS – no one would have predicted a world-wide epidemic killing tens of millions and vastly disrupting the economies of many poor nations.

Are UU events to be feared? Warren Buffett (1996) once remarked: “It is essential to remember that virtually all surprises are unpleasant.”  Most salient  UU events seem to fall into the left tail of unfortunate occurrences. This may be more a matter of perception than reality. Often an upside unknowable event, say the diminution of terror attacks or recovery from a dread disease, is difficult to recognize. An attack on any single day was not likely anyway, and the patient still feels lousy on the road to recovery. Thus, the news just dribbles in, as in a financial market upswing. B.F. Skinner, the great behavioral psychologist, taught us that behavior conditioned by variable interval reinforcement – engage in the behavior and from time-to-time the system will be primed to give you a payoff – was the most difficult to extinguish. Subjects could never be sure that another reward would not be forthcoming. Similarly, it is hard to discern when a string of inconsistently spaced episodic events has concluded. If the events are unpleasant, it is not clear when to celebrate their end.

Let us focus for the moment on thunderclap events. They would not get this title unless they involved something out of the ordinary, either good or bad. Casual empiricism – judged by looking at local, national and international headlines – suggests that thunderclap events are disproportionately adverse. Unlike in the old television show, The Millionaire, people do not knock on your door to give you a boatload of money, and in Iraq terror attacks outnumber terrorist arrests manifold.

The financial arena may be one place with an apparently good ratio of upside to downside UU events, particularly if we include events that are drifts and not thunderclaps. By the end of 2004, there were 2.5 million millionaires in the United States, excluding housingwealth.

http://money.cnn.com/2005/06/09/news/world_wealth/ Many of these individuals, no doubt, experienced upside UU events. Some events, such as the sustained boom in housing prices, were experienced by many, but many upside events probably only affected the individual and perhaps a few others; such events include an unexpected lucrative job, or having a business concept take a surprisingly prosperous turn, or having a low-value real estate holding explode in value, etc.

We hear about the lottery winner -- the big pot, the thunderclap, and the gain for one individual makes it newsworthy. In contrast, the tens of thousands of UU events that created thousands of new real estate millionaires are mostly reported in dry aggregate statistics. Moreover, contrary to the ads in the back of magazines, there is usually not a good way to follow these “lucky folks,” since some complementary skill or knowledge is likely to be required, not merely money and a wise choice of an investment. Thus, many favorable UU financial events are likely to go unchronicled.

While still in this Pollyannish frame, it is worth noting the miracles of percentage symmetry given extreme events. Posit that financial prices move in some symmetric fashion. Given that negative prices are not possible, such changes must be in percentage rather than absolute terms.4  We will not notice  any difference between percentage and absolute if changes are small relative to the mean. Thus, if a price of 100 goes up or down by an average of 3 each year, or up by a ratio of 103/100 or down by 100/103 hardly matters. But change that 3 to a 50, and the percentage symmetry helps a great deal. The price becomes 100(150/100) or 100(100/150)), which has an average of 117. If prices are anything close to percentage symmetric, as many believe they are, then big swings are both enemy and friend: enemy because they impose big risks, friend because they offer substantial positive expected value.

Many millionaires have made investments that multiplied their money 10- fold, and some 100-fold. The symmetric geometric model would expect events that cut one’s stake to 1/10th or 1/100th of its initial value to be equally likely. The opportunity to get a 10 or 100 multiple on your investment as often as you lose virtually all of it is tremendously attractive.

There is, of course, no reason why investments must yield symmetric geometric returns. But it would be surprising not to see significant expected excess returns to investments that have three characteristics addressed in this essay: (1) UU underlying features, (2) complementary capabilities are required to

undertake them, so the investments are not available to the general market, and
(3) it is unlikely that a party on the other side of the transaction is better informed. That is, UU may well work for you, if you can identify general characteristics of when such investments are desirable, and when not.

These very attractive three-pronged investments will not come along everyday. And when they do, they are unlikely to scale up as much as the  investor would like, unlike an investment in an underpriced NYSE stock, which scales nicely, at least over the range for most individual investors. Thus, the UU- sensitive investor should be constantly on the lookout for new opportunities. That is why Warren Buffett trolls for new businesses to buy in each Berkshire- Hathaway annual report, and why most wealthy private investors are constantly looking for new instruments or new deals.

Uniqueness. Many UU situations deserve a third U, for unique. If they do, arbitrageurs – who like to have considerable past experience to guide them – will steer clear. So too will anybody who would be severely penalized for a poor decision after the fact. An absence of competition from sophisticated and well- monied others spells the opportunity to buy underpriced securities.

Most great investors, from David Ricardo to Warren Buffett, have made most of their fortunes by betting on UUU situations. Ricardo allegedly made 1 million pounds (over $50 million today) – roughly half of his fortune at death – on his Waterloo bonds.5 Buffett has made dozens of equivalent investments. Though he is best known for the Nebraska Furniture Mart and See’s Candies, or for long-term investments in companies like the Washington Post and Coca Cola, insurance has been Berkshire Hathaway’s firehose of wealth over the years. And insurance often requires UUU thinking. A whole section below discusses Buffett’s success with what many experts saw as a UUU insurance situation, so they steered clear; but he saw it as offering excess premium relative to risk, so he took it all.

Speculation 1: UUU investments – unknown, unknowable and unique – drive off speculators, which creates the potential for an attractive low price.

Some UU situations that appear to be unique are not, and thus fall into categories that lend themselves to traditional speculation.  Corporate takeover  bids are such situations. When one company makes a bid for another, it is often impossible to determine what is going on or what will happen, suggesting uniqueness. But since dozens of such situations have been seen over the years, speculators are willing to take positions in them. From the standpoint of investment, uniqueness is lost, just as the uniqueness of each child matters not to those who manufacture sneakers.

Weird Causes and Fat Tails. The returns to UUU investments can be extreme. We are all familiar with the Bell Curve (or Normal Distribution), which nicely describes the number of flips of a fair coin that will come up heads in a large number of trials. But such a mechanical and controlled problem is extremely rare. Heights are frequently described as falling on a Bell Curve. But in fact there are many too many people who are extremely tall or extremely short, due say to glandular disturbances or genetic abnormalities. The standard model often does not apply to observations in the tails. So too with most disturbances to investments. Whatever the explanation for the October 1987 crash, it was not due to the usual factors that are used to explain market movements.6

More generally, movements in financial markets and of investments in general appear to have much thicker tails than would be predicted by Brownian motion, the instantaneous source of Bell Curve outcomes. That may be because the fundamental underlying factors produce thicker tails, or because there are rarely occurring anomalous or weird causes that produce extreme results, or both. The UU and UUU models would give great credence to the latter explanation, though both could apply.7

Complementary skills and UU investments. A great percentage of UU investments, and a greater percentage of those that are UUU, provide great returns to a complementary skill. For example, many of America’s great fortunes in recent years have come from real estate. These returns came to people who knew where to build, and what and how. Real estate developers earn vast amounts on their capital because they have complementary skills. Venture capitalists can secure extraordinary returns on their own monies, and charge impressive fees to their investors, because early stage companies need their skills and their connections. In short, the return to these investments comes from the combination of scarce skills and wise selection of companies for investment. High tech pioneers – Bill Gates is an extreme example – get even better multiples on their investment dollars as a complement to their vision and scientific insight.8

Alas, few of us possess the skills to be a real estate developer, venture capitalist or high tech pioneer. But how about becoming a star of ordinary stock investment? For such efforts an ideal complementary skill is unusual judgment. Those who can sensibly determine when to plunge into and when to refrain from UUU investments gain a substantial edge, since mispricing is likely to be severe. Bill Miller, the famed manager of the Legg Mason Value Fund, had a unique record of beating the S&P; his string through December 2005 was 15 years in a row. In October 2004 he spoke at Harvard University, and explained in detail why he made major purchases of Google at its public offering, surely a UUU situation given the nature of the company and the fact that it was offered through a Dutch auction.9 Virtually all in the audience were impressed that he made this decision -- the stock came out at $85 in August that year and had run up to $140. But Miller recognized that explaining past successes is not a challenge. He went on to proclaim Google a great investment for the future. How right he was. Google was selling at $380 in September 2006, when this essay was completed. Alas, 2006 was not kind to Miller. By September, his Value Fund was 12% behind the S&P for the year. Only time will tell whether Miller has lost his touch or is merely in a slump.

Warren Buffett’s unusual judgment operates with more prosaic  companies, such as oil producers and soft drink firms. He is simply a genius at everyday tasks, such as judging management capability or forecasting company progress. He drains much of the unknowable in judging a company’s future. But he has other advantages. A number of Buffett’s investments have come to him because companies sought him out, asking him to make an investment and also to serve on their board, valuing his discretion, his savvy, and his reputation for rectitude – that is, his complementary skills, not merely his money. And when he is called on for such reasons, he often gets a discounted price. Those like Miller

and Buffet, who can leverage complementary skills in stock market investment, will be in a privileged position of limited competition. But that will accomplish little if they do not show courage and make big purchases where they expect high payoffs. But the lesson for regular mortals is not to imitate Warren Buffett or Bill Miller; that makes no more sense than trying to play tennis like Roger Federer. Each of them has an inimitable skill. If you lack Buffett-Miller capabilities, you will get chewed up as a bold stock picker.

Note, by the way, the generosity with which great investors with complementary skills explain their successes – Buffett in his annual reports, Miller at Harvard, and any number of venture capitalists who come to lecture to MBAs. These master investors need not worry about the competition, since few others possess the complementary skills for their types of investments. Few UU investment successes come from catching a secret, such as the whispered hint of “plastics” in the movie The Graduate. Mayer Amschel Rothschild had five sons who were bright, disciplined, loyal and willing to disperse. These were the complementary skills. The terrific investments in a UU world – and the Rothschild fortune – followed.

Before presenting a maxim about complementary skills, I present you with a decision problem. You have been asked to join the Business Advisory Board of a company named Tengion. Tengion was founded in 2003 to develop and commercialize a medical breakthrough: “developing new human tissues and organs (neo-tissues and neo-organs) that are derived from a patient’s own cells…[this technology] harnesses the body’s ability to regenerate, and it has the potential to allow adults and children with organ failure to have functioning organs built from their own (autologous) tissues.” http://www.tengion.com/

This is assuredly a UU situation, doubly so for you, since until now you had never heard the term neo-organ. A principal advantage of joining is that you would be able to invest a reasonable sum on the same basis as the firm’s insiders and venture capitalists. Would you choose to do so?

I faced this decision problem because I had worked successfully with Tengion’s president on another company many years earlier. I was delighted with the UU flavor of the situation, and chose to join and invest because I would be doing so on the same terms as sophisticated venture capital (VC) firms with track records and expertise in relevant biotech areas. This was an investment from which virtually everyone else would be excluded. In addition, it would benefit from the complementary skills of the VCs.

Sidecar investments. Such undertakings are “sidecar investments”; the investor rides along in a sidecar pulled by a powerful motorcycle. The more the investor is distinctively positioned to have confidence in the driver’s integrity and his motorcycle’s capabilities, the more attractive the investment, since its price will be lower due to limited competition. Perhaps the premier sidecar investment ever available to the ordinary investor was Berkshire Hathaway, many decades back. One could have invested alongside Warren Buffett, and had him take a ridiculously low compensation for his services. (In recent years, he has been paid
$100,000, with no bonus or options.) But in 1960 who had heard of Warren Buffett, or knew that he would be such a spectacular and poorly compensated investor? Someone who knew Buffett and recognized his remarkable capabilities back then was in a privileged UU situation.

Maxim A: Individuals with complementary skills enjoy great positive excess returns from UU investments. Make a sidecar investment alongside them when given the opportunity.

Do you have the courage to apply this maxim? It is January 2006 and you, a Western investor, are deciding whether to invest in Gazprom, the predominantly government-owned Russian natural gas giant in January 2006. Russia is attempting to attract institutional investment from the West; the stock is sold as an ADR, and is soon to be listed on the OTC exchange; the company is fiercely profitable, and it is selling gas at a small fraction of the world price. On the upside, it is generally known that large numbers of the Russian elite are investors, and here and there it is raising its price dramatically. On the downside, Gazprom is being employed as an instrument of Russian government policy, e.g., gas is sold at a highly subsidized price to Belarus, because of its sympathetic government, yet the Ukraine is being threatened with more than a four-fold increase in price, in part because its government is hostile to Moscow. And the company is bloated and terribly managed. Finally, experiences, such as those with Yukos Oil, make it clear that the government is powerful, erratic, and ruthless.

This is clearly a situation of ignorance, or UU. The future states of the world are simply not known. Will the current government stay in power? Will it make Gazprom its flagship for garnering Western investment? If so, will it streamline its operations? Is it using foreign policy concerns as a device mainly to raise prices, a strong positive, and is it on a path to raise prices across the board? Will it complete its proposed pipelines to Europe?  What questions haven’t you thought of, whose answers could dramatically affect your payout? Of course, you should also determine whether Western investors have distinct disadvantages as Gazprom shareholders, such as unique taxes, secondary voting status, etc. Finally, if you determine the investment is favorable given present circumstances, you should ask how quickly Russia could change conditions against outsiders, and whether you will be alert and get out if change begins.
You could never learn about the unknowables sufficiently well to do traditional due diligence on a Gazprom investment. The principal arguments for going ahead would be that Speculation 1 and Maxim A apply. If you could comfortably determine that the Russian elite was investing on its own volition, and that foreigners would not be discriminated against, or at least not quickly, this would make a sensible sidecar investment.10

II.  BEHAVIORAL ECONOMICS AND DECISION TRAPS

Behavioral decision has shaken the fields of economics and finance in recent decades. Basically, this work shows in area after area that individuals systematically deviate from making decisions in a manner that would be admired by Jimmie Savage (1954) and Howard Raiffa (1968), pioneers of the rational decision paradigm. As one illustration, such deviators could be turned into money pumps: They would pay to pick gamble B over gamble A. Then with A reframed as A’, but not changed in its fundamentals, they would pay to pick A over B.

That is hardly the path to prudent investment, but alas behavioral decision has strong descriptive validity. Behavioral decision has important implications  for investing in UU situations. When considering our own behavior, we must be extremely careful not to fall prey to the biases and decision traps it chronicles. Almost by definition, UU situations are those where our experience is likely to be limited, where we will not encounter situations similar to other situations that have helped us hone our intuition.

Virtually all of us fall into important decision traps when dealing with the unknowable. This section discusses two, overconfidence and recollection bias, and then gives major attention to a third, misweighting differences in probabilities and payoffs. But there are dozens of decision traps, and some will appear later in this essay. The Nobel Prize winning work of Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky (the latter was warmly cited, but died too soon to win), 11 and the delightful and insightful Poor Charlie’s Almanack, written by Charles Munger (Warren Buffett’s partner) respectively provide academic and finance-oriented discussions of such traps.

There are at least three major objections to behavioral economics: First, in competitive markets, the anomalies it describes will be arbitraged away. Second, the anomalies only appear in carefully crafted situations; they are much like optical illusions, intriguing but rarely affecting everyday vision. Third, they describe the objection is tangential to this discussion; competitive markets and arbitrage are not present in many UU situations, and in particular not the ones that interest us. The second objection is relatively unimportant because, in essence, UU situations are those where optical illusions rule the world. A UU world is not unlike a Fun House. Objection three I take up seriously below; this essay is designed to help people behave more rationally when they invest.

Let us first look at the biases.

Overconfidence. When individuals are assessing quantities about which they know very little, they are much too confident of their knowledge (Alpert and Raiffa, 1982). Appendix A offers you a chance to test your capabilities in this regard.  For each of eight unknown quantities, such as the area of Finland, you are asked to provide your median estimate, then your 25th and 75th percentile estimates (i.e., it is one quarter likely the true value will be more extreme than either of the two), and then your 1st and 99th percentiles, what are referred to as surprise points. In theory, an individual should have estimates outside her surprise points about 2% of the time. In fact, even if warned about overconfidence, individuals are surprised about 35% of the time.12 Quite simply, individuals think they know much more about unknowable quantities than they do.

Speculation 2: Individuals who are overconfident of their knowledge will fall  prey to poor investments in the UU world. Indeed, they are the green plants in the elaborate ecosystem of finance where there are few lions, like Bill Miller and Warren Buffett; many gazelles, like you and me; and vast acres of grass ultimately nourishing us all.

Recollection bias. A first lesson in dealing with UU situations is to know thyself. One good way to do this is to review successes and failures in past decisions. However, since people do not have a long track record, they naturally turn to hypotheticals from the past: Would I have judged the event that actually occurred to be likely? Would I have made that good investment and steered clear of the other bad one? Would I have sold out of NASDAQ stocks near New Year 2001? Alas, human beings do not do well with such questions. They are subject to substantial recollection bias.13

Judging by articles in the New York Times leading up to 9/11/2001, there was a clear UUU event. But that is not what respondents told us one to three  years later. They were asked to compare their present assessments of the likelihood of a massive terrorist attack with what they estimated that likelihood to be on September 1, 2001. Of more than 300 Harvard Law and Kennedy School students surveyed, 31% rated the risk as now lower, and 26% rated the risk as the same as they had perceived the 9/11 risk before the event.14 We can hardly be confident that investors will be capable of judging how they would have assessed UU risks that occurred in the past.

Misweighting probabilities and preferences. The two critical components of decision problems are payoffs and probabilities. Effective decision requires that both be carefully calibrated. Not surprisingly, Prospect Theory, the most important single contribution to behavioral decision theory to date, finds that individuals’ responses to payoffs and probabilities are far from rational.15 To my knowledge, there is no tally of which contributes more to the loss of expected utility from the rational norm. (Some strong supporters of behavioral decision theory, however, think it is our norms that are misguided, and that the way the brain naturally perceives outcomes, not the prescriptions of decision theorists and economists, should be the guideline.)

Whether drawing from Prospect Theory or observation, it seems clear that individuals draw insufficient distinctions among small probabilities. Consider the following experiment, in which an individual is asked to pick A or B.

Lottery Choice: Payoffs Versus Probabilities



Payoff
Probability
A
$2000
0.01
B
$1000
0.025

A rational, risk averse individual should opt for B, since it offers a higher expected value – $25 versus $20 – and less risk. Yet past experiments have  shown that many individuals choose A, since in accordance with Prospect Theory they do not distinguish sufficiently between two low probability events. We speculate further that if we used named contingencies – for example, the Astros or the Blue Jays win the World Series – alongside their probabilities, the frequency of preference for A would increase. The contingencies would be selected, of course, so that their likelihood of occurrence, as indicated by odds in Las Vegas, would match those in the example above.

This hypothetical experiment establishes a baseline for another one that involves UU events. This time the prizes are based on events that are as close to the spectrum of UU events as possible, subject to the limitation that they must be named.16 Thus, a contingency might be that a 10,000-ton asteroid passed within 50,000 miles of Earth within the past decade, or that more than a million mammals crossed the border from Tanzania to Kenya last year. To begin our experiment, we ask a random sample of people to guess the likelihood of these contingencies. We then alter the asteroid distance or the number of animals in the question until the median answer is 0.03. Thus, if 50,000 miles got a median answer of 0.05, we would adjust to 40,000 miles, etc.

We now ask a new group of individuals to choose between C and D, assuming that we have calibrated the asteroid and mammal question to get to  0.03.

Lottery Choice: Payoffs Versus Probability or UU Event



Payoff
Required contingency
C
$2000
Draw a 17 from an urn with balls numbered 1 to 100
D
$1000
10,000-ton asteroid passed within 40,000 miles of Earth

Lotteries C and D should yield their prizes with estimated probabilities of 1% and 3% respectively. Still, we suspect that many more people would pick C over D than picked A over B, and that this would be true for the animal  movement contingency as well.17

A more elaborated version of this problem would offer prizes based on alternative UU contingencies coming to pass. For example, we might recalibrate the mammal-crossing problem to get a median response of 0.01. We would then have:

Lottery Choice: Payoffs Versus UU Events



Payoff
Required contingency
E
$2000
Calibrated large number of animals crossed the Tanzania- Kenya border
F
$1000
10,000 ton-asteroid passed within 40,000 miles of Earth

Here the values have been scaled so the median response is three times higher for the asteroid event than the animal crossing. We would conjecture again that E would be chosen frequently.18 People do not like to rely on the occurrence of UU events, and choices based on distinguishing among their probabilities would be an unnatural act.

Daniel Ellsberg (1961) alerted us to ambiguity aversion long before he created a UU event by publishing the Pentagon papers. In an actual experiment, he showed, in effect, that individuals preferred to win a prize if a standard coin flip came up heads, rather than to win that prize by choosing either heads or tails on the flip of a mangled coin whose outcome was difficult to predict.19 Such ambiguity aversion may be a plausible heuristic response to general decisions under uncertainty, since so often there is a better-informed person on the other side – such as someone selling a difficult-to-assess asset.20 Whatever the explanation, ambiguity aversion has the potential to exert a powerful effect. Extending Ellsberg one step further, it would seem that the more ambiguous the contingencies, the greater the aversion. If so, UU investments will drive away all but the most self-directed and rational thinking investors. Thus, Speculation 1 is reinforced.

III.  MATH WHIZZES IN FINANCE AND CASH MANAGEMENT

The major fortunes in finance, I would speculate, have been made by people who are effective in dealing with the unknown and unknowable. This will probably be truer still in the future. Given the influx of educated professionals into finance, those who make their living speculating and trading in traditional markets are increasingly up against others who are tremendously bright and tremendously well-informed.21
By contrast, those who undertake prudent speculations in the unknown will be amply rewarded. Such speculations may include ventures into uncharted areas, where the finance professionals have yet to run their regressions, or may take completely new paths into already well-traveled regions.22 It used to be said that if your shoeshine boy gave you stock tips it was time to get out of the market. With shoeshine boys virtually gone and finance Ph.D.’s plentiful, the new wisdom might be:

When your math whiz finance Ph.D. tells you that he and his peers have been hired to work in the XYZ field, the spectacular returns in XYZ field have probably vanished forever.

Similarly, the more difficult a field is to investigate, the greater will be the unknown and unknowables associated with it, and the greater the expected profits to those who deal sensibly with them. Unknownables can’t be transmuted into sensible guesses -- but one can take one’s positions and array one’s claims so that unknowns and unknowables are mostly allies, not nemeses. And one can train to avoid one’s own behavioral decision tendencies, and to capitalize on those of others.

Assume that an investor is willing to invest where he has an edge in UU situations. How much capital should then be placed into each opportunity? This problem is far from the usual portfolio problem. It is afflicted with ignorance, and decisions must be made in sequential fashion. Math whizzes have discussed this problem in a literature little known to economists, but frequently discussed among gamblers and mathematicians. The most famous contribution is an article published 50 years ago by J.L. Kelly, an AT&T scientist. His basic formula, which is closely related to Claude Shannon’s information theory, tells you how much to bet on each gamble as a function of your bankroll, with the probability of winning and the odds as the two parameters. Perhaps surprisingly, the array of future investment opportunities does not matter.

Kelly’s Criterion, as it is called, is to invest an amount equal to W – (1- W)/R, where W is your probability of winning, and R is the ratio of the amount you win when you win to the amount you lose when you lose. Thus, if you were 60% likely to win an even money bet, you would invest .6 – (1-.6)/1 = .2 or 20% of your capital.

It can be shown that given sufficient time, the value given by any other investment strategy will eventually be overtaken in value by following the Kelly Criterion, which maximizes the geometric growth rate of the portfolio. That  might seem to be definitive. But even in the mathematical realm of optimal dynamic investment strategies, assuming that all odds and probabilities are known, we encounter a UU situation.

Paul Samuelson, writing in a playful mood, produced an article attacking the Kelly Criterion as a guide for practice. His article uses solely one-syllable words. His abstract observes: “He who acts in N plays to make his mean log of wealth as big as it can be made will, with odds that go to one as N soars, beat me who acts to meet my own tastes for risk.”23  Samuelson correctly prescribes that  in favorable-odds situations, whether repeated or not, the optimal amount for an individual who maximizes his expected utility to invest will depend on his utility function. To promote your intuition, consider a polar case. A  risk-neutral  investor should invest his total wealth whenever he confronts a favorable-odds situation, as opposed to the “magic fraction” proposed by Kelly. Going all in, to use poker terminology, will maximize his expected total wealth, hence his expected utility, for any finite number of periods.24 In short, Samuelson shows that the Kelly Criterion, though mathematically correct, should not guide an

investor’s actions, since it ignores the structure of preferences, whether risk neutral or risk averse.25
Accounting for preferences, it turns out that the Kelly Criterion leads to precisely the right investment proportions if one’s utility function is logarithmic, but it is too conservative for less risk-averse utility functions, and vice versa.  With logarithmic utility, one will just take an even money bet that either multiplies one’s wealth by 1+x or by 1/(1+x), for any x. Thus, one would take an even money bet to double or halve one’s wealth.

I lack both the space and capability to straighten out the sequential investment problem. But I should make a few observations to point out that even if the Kelly Criterion were correct, the formulation it employs does not capture most real world investment opportunities: (1) Most UU investments are illiquid for a significant period, often of unknown length. Monies invested today will not be available for reinvestment until they become liquid. (2) Markets charge enormous premiums to cash out illiquid assets.26 (3) Models of  optimal  sequential investment strategies tend to assume away the most important real- world challenges to such strategies, such as uncertain lock-in periods. (4) There are substantial disagreements in the literature even about “toy problems,” such as those with immediate resolution of known-probability investments. The overall conclusion is that: (5) Money management is a challenging task in UU problems. It afflicts even those with a substantial edge when making such investments. And when the unknowable happens, as it did with the air- pocket plunge in the 1987 stock market or the 1997 Asian crisis, unforeseen short-term money-management problems – e.g., transferring monies across markets in time to beat margin calls – tend to emerge. These five points imply that even if it were clear how one should invest in a string of favorable gambles each of which is resolved instantaneously, that would help us little in the real world of UU investing, which presents a much more difficult task.

Though I have quibbled about the Kelly Criterion, it makes a simple, central point that is missed in virtually all investment advice. Most such advice focuses on efficient or near efficient markets, implying that one will not have a great edge in any investment. In contrast, the real world presents some ordinary investments, some attractive investments, and some very attractive investments. Clearly it makes sense to invest more in the more attractive investments. This leads to a maxim on investment advantage:

Maxim B: The greater is your expected return on an investment, that is the larger is your advantage, the greater the percentage of your capital you should put at risk.

Most investors understand this criterion intuitively, at least once it is pointed out. But they follow it insufficiently if at all. The investment on which they expect a 30% return gets little more funding than the one where they expect to earn 10%. Investment advantage should be as important as diversification concerns in determining how one distributes one’s portfolio.


IV. INVESTING WITH SOMEONE ON THE OTHER SIDE

One of the more puzzling aspects of the financial world is the volume of transactions in international currency markets. Average daily volume is $1.9 trillion, which is slightly more than all U.S. imports in a year. There are hedgers in these markets, to be sure, but their volume is many times dwarfed by transactions that cross with sophisticated or at least highly paid traders on both sides. Something no less magical than levitation is enabling all players to make money, or think that they are making money.

But let us turn to the micro situation, where you are trading against a single individual in what may or may not be a UU situation. If we find that  people make severe mistakes in this arena even when there is merely risk or uncertainty, we should be much more concerned, at least for them, when UU may abound.

Bazerman-Samuelson example and lessons. Let us posit that you are 100% sure that an asset is worth more to you than to the person who holds it, indeed 50% more. But assume that she knows the true value to her, and that it is uniformly distributed on [0,100], that is, her value is equally likely to be 0, 1, 2, … 100. In a famous game due to Bazerman and Samuelson (1983), hereafter BS, you are to make a single bid. She will accept if she gets more than her own value. What should you bid?

When asked in the classroom, typical bids will be 50 or 60, and few will bid as low as 20. Students reason that the item will be worth 50 on average to her, hence 75 to them. They bid to get a tidy profit. The flaw in the reasoning is that the seller will only accept if she will make a profit. Let’s make you the bidder. If you offer 60, she will not sell if her value exceeds 60. This implies that her average value conditional on selling will be 30, which is the value of the average number from 0 to 60. Your expected value will be 1.5 times this amount, or 45. You will lose 15 on average, namely 60-45, when your bid is accepted. It is easy to show that any positive bid loses money in expectation. The moral of this story is that people, even people in decision analysis and finance classrooms, where these experiments have been run many times, are very poor at taking account of the decisions of people on the other side of the table.

There is also a strong tendency to draw the wrong inference from this example, once its details are explained. Many people conclude that you should never deal with someone else who knows the true value, when you know only the distribution. In fact, BS offer an extreme example, almost the equivalent of an optical illusion. You might conclude that when your information is very diffuse and the other side knows for sure, you should not trade even if you have a strong absolute advantage.

That conclusion is wrong. For example, if the seller’s true value  is uniform on [1,2] and you offer 2, you will buy the object for sure, and its expected value will be 1.5 times 1.5 = 2.25. The difference between this example and the one with the prior on [0,1] is that here the effective information discrepancy is much smaller. To see this, think of a uniform distribution from [100,101]; there is virtually no discrepancy. (In fact, bidding 2 is the optimal bid for the [1,2] example, but that the extreme bid is optimal also should not be generalized.)

Drawing inferences from others. The general lesson is that people are naturally very poor at drawing inferences from the fact that there is a willing seller on the other side of the market. Our instincts and early training lead us not to trust the other guy, because his interests so frequently diverge from ours. If someone is trying to convince you that his second hand car is wondrous, skepticism and valuing your own information highly helps. However, in their study of the heuristics that individuals employ to help them make decisions, Tversky and Kahneman (1974) discovered that individuals tend to extrapolate heuristics from situations where they make sense to those where they do not.

For example, we tend to distrust the other guy’s information even when he is on our side. This tendency has serious drawbacks if you consider sidecar investing – free riding on the superior capability of others – as we do below. Consider two symmetrically-situated partners with identical interests who start with an identical prior distribution about some value which is described by a two- parameter distribution. They each get some information on the value. They also have identical prior distributions on the information that each will receive. Thus, after his draw, each has a posterior mean and variance. Their goal is to take a decision whose payoff will depend on the true value. The individuals begin by submitting their best estimate, namely their means. After observing each other’s means, they then simultaneously submit their new best estimate. Obviously, if  one had a tight (loose) posterior his estimate would shift more (less) toward that of his partner. In theory, two things should happen: 

(a) The two partners should jump over each other between the first and second submission half of the time.

(b) The two partners should give precisely the same estimate for the third submission.

In practice, unless the players are students of Robert Aumann27 – his article “Agreeing to Disagree” (1976) inspired this example – rarely will they jump over each other. Moreover, on the third submission, they will not come close to convergence.

The moral of this story is that we are deeply inclined to trust our own information more than that of a counterpart, and are not well trained to know when this makes good sense, and when it inclines us to be a sucker. One should also be on the lookout for information disparities. Rarely are they revealed through carnival-barker behavior. For example, when a seller merely offers you an object at a price, or gets to accept or reject when you make a bid (as with BS), he will utilize information that you do not possess. You had better be alert and give full weight to its likely value, e.g., how much the object is worth on average were he to accept your bid.

In the financial world one is always playing in situations where the other fellow may have more information and you must be on your guard. But unless you have a strictly dominant action – i.e., it is superior no matter what the other guy’s information -- a maximin strategy will almost always push you never to invest. After all, his information could be just such to lead you to lose large amounts of money.

Two rays of light creep into this gloomy situation: First, only rarely will his information put you at severe disadvantage. Second, it is extremely unlikely that your counterpart is playing anything close to an optimal strategy. After all, if it is so hard for you to analyze, it can hardly be easy for him.28
  
Absolute advantage and information asymmetry. It is helpful to break down these situations into two components. A potential buyer’s absolute advantage benefits both players. It represents the usual gains from trade. In many  financial situations, as we observed above, a buyer’s absolute advantage stems from her complementary skills. An empty lot in A’s hands may be worth much less than it would be in B’s. Both gain if A trades to B, due to absolute advantage. But such an argument would not apply if A was speculating that the British pound would fall against the dollar when B was speculating that it would rise. There is no absolute advantage in such a situation, only information asymmetries.

If both parties recognize a pure asymmetric information situation, only the better informed player should participate. The appropriate drawing of inferences of “what- you-know-since-you-are-willing-to-trade” should lead to the well known no-trade equilibrium. Understanding this often leads even ordinary  citizens to a shrewd strategem:

Maxim C: When information asymmetries may lead your counterpart to be concerned about trading with you, identify for her important areas where you  have an absolute advantage from trading. You can also identify her absolute advantages, but she is more likely to know those already.

When you are the buyer, beware; seller-identified absolute advantages can be chimerical. For example, the seller in the bazaar is good at explaining why your special characteristics deserve a money-losing price – say it is the end of the day and he needs money to take home to his wife. The house seller who does not like the traffic noise in the morning may palter that he is moving closer to his job, suggesting absolute advantage since that is not important to you. Stores in tourist locales are always having “Going Out of Business Sales.” Most swindles operate because the swindled one thinks he is in the process of getting a steal deal from someone else.

If a game theorist had written a musical comedy, it would have been Guys and Dolls, filled as it is with the ploys and plots of small-time gamblers. The overseer of the roving craps game is Nathan Detroit. He is seeking action, and asks Sky Masterson – whose good looks and gambling success befit his name – to bet on yesterday’s cake sales at Lindy’s, a famed local deli. Sky declines and recounts a story to Nathan:

On the day when I left home to make my way in the world, my daddy took me to one side. “Son,” my daddy says to me, “I am sorry I am not able to bankroll you to a large start, but not having the necessary lettuce to get you rolling, instead I'm going to stake you to some very valuable advice. One of these days in your travels, a guy is going to show you a brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken. Then this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the jack of spades jump out of this brand-new deck of cards and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, do not accept this bet, because as sure as you stand there, you're going to wind up with an ear full of cider.”

In the financial world at least, a key consideration in dealing with UU situations is assessing what others are likely to know or not know. You are unlikely to have mystical powers to foresee the unforeseeable, but you may be able to estimate your understanding relative to that of others. Sky’s dad drew an inference from someone else’s willingness to bet. Presumably Ricardo was not a military expert, but just understood that bidders would be few and that the market would overdiscount the UU risk.

Competitive knowledge, uncertainty, and ignorance. Let us assume that you are neither the unusually skilled Buffett nor the unusually clear-thinking Ricardo. You are just an ordinary investor who gets opportunities and information from time to time. Your first task is to decide into which box an investment decision would fall. We start with unknown probabilities.

Investing with Uncertainty and Potential Asymmetric Information



Easy for Others to Estimate
Hard for Others to Estimate
Easy for You to Estimate
A. Tough markets
B. They’re the Sucker
Hard for You to Estimate
C. Sky Masterson’s Dad, You’re the Sucker
D. Buffett’s Reinsurance Sale Calif. Earthquake Auth.

The first row is welcome and relatively easy, for two reasons: 

(1) You probably have reasonable judgment of your knowledge relative to others, as would a major real estate developer considering deals in his home market. Thus you would have a good assessment of how likely you are to be in Box B or Box A. 

(2) If you are in Box B, you have the edge. Box A is the home of the typical thick financial market, where we tend to think prices are fair on average.

The second row is more interesting, and brings us to the subject matter of this paper. In Part V below, we will see Buffett sell a big hunk of reinsurance because he knew he was in box D. His premium was extremely favorable, and he knew that the likelihood of extreme odds-shifting information being possessed by the other side was thin. Box C consists of situations where you know little, and others may know a fair amount. The key to successfully dealing with situations where you find probabilities hard to estimate is to be able to assess whether others might be finding it easy.

Be sensitive to telling signs that the other side knows more, such as a smart person offering too favorable odds. Indeed, if another sophisticated party is willing to bet, and he can’t know that you find probabilities hard to estimate, you should be suspicious. For he should have reasonable private knowledge so as to protect himself. The regress in such reasoning is infinite.

Maxim D: In a situation where probabilities may be hard for either side to assess, it may be sufficient to assess your knowledge relative to the party on the other side (perhaps the market).

Let us now turn to the more extreme case, situations where even the states of the world are unknown, as they would be for an angel investment in a completely new technology, or for insuring infrastructure against terrorism over a long period.

Investing with Ignorance and Potential Asymmetric Information



Known to Others
Unknown to Others
Unknown to You
E. Dangerous Waters Monday Morning Quarterback Risk
F. Low Competition Monday Morning Quarterback Risk

In some ignorance situations, you may be confident that others know no better. That would place you in Box F, a box where most investors get deterred, and where the Buffetts of this world, and the Rothschilds of yesteryear have made lots of money. Investors are deterred because they employ a heuristic to stay  away from UU situations, because they might be in E, even though a careful assessment would tell them that outcome was highly unlikely. In addition, both boxes carry the Monday Morning Quarterback (MMQ) risk; one might be blamed for a poor outcome if one invests in ignorance, when it was a good decision that got a bad outcome; might not have allowed for the fact that others might have had better knowledge when in fact they didn’t; or might not have allowed for the fact that others might have had better knowledge, when in fact they did, but that negative was outweighed by the positive of your absolute advantage. The criticisms are unmerited. But since significant losses were incurred, and knowledge was scant, the investment looks foolish in retrospect to all but the most sophisticated. An investor who could suffer significantly from any of these critiques might well be deterred from investing.

Let us revisit the Gazprom lesson within this thought in mind. Suppose you are a Russia expert. It is still almost inevitable that real Russians know much more than you. What then should you do? The prudent course, it would seem, would be first to determine your MMQ risk. It may actually be reduced due to your largely irrelevant expertise. But if MMQ is considerable, steer clear. If not, and Russian insiders are really investing, capitalize on Box E, and make that sidecar investment. You have the additional advantage that few Westerners will be doing the same, and they are your prime competition for ADRs.29

Speculation 3. UU situations offer great investment potential given the combination of information asymmetries and lack of competition.

Boxes E and F are also the situations where other players will be attempting to take advantage of us and, if it is our inclination, we might take advantage of them. This is the area where big money changes hands.

A key problem is to determine when you might be played for a sucker. Sometimes this is easy. Anyone who has small oil interests will have received many letters offering to buy, no doubt coming from people offering far less than fair value. They are monopsonists after all, and appropriately make offers well below the market. They may not even have any inside knowledge. But they are surely taking advantage of the impulsive or impatient among us, or those who do not understand the concepts in this paper.

Being a possible sucker may be an advantage if you can gauge the probability. People are strongly averse to being betrayed. They demand much stronger odds when a betraying human rather than an indifferent nature would be the cause of a loss (Bohnet and Zeckhauser, 2004). Given that, where betrayal is  a risk, potential payoffs will be too high relative to what rational decision analysis would prescribe.

Investing in UU with potentially informed players on the other side. Though you may confront a UU situation, the party or parties on the other side may be well informed. Usually you will not know whether they are. Gamblers opine that if  you do not know who the sucker is in a game that you are the sucker. That does not automatically apply with UU investments. First, the other side may also be uninformed. For example, if you buy a partially completed shopping center, it may be that the developer really did run out of money (the proffered explanation for its status) as opposed to his discovery of deep tenant reluctance. Second, you may have a complementary skill, e.g., strong relations with WalMart, that may give you a significant absolute advantage multiple.

The advantage multiple versus selection formula. Let us simplify and leave risk aversion and money management matters aside. Further posit, following BS, that you are able to make a credible take-it-or-leave-it offer of 1. The value of the asset to him is v, an unknown quantity. The value to you is av, where a is your absolute advantage. Your subjective prior probability distribution on v is f (v).  The mean value of your prior is m < 1.30 In a stripped-down model, three parameters describe this situation: your advantage multiple, a; the probability that the other side is informed, p; and the selection factor against you, s, if the other side is informed.31 Thus s is the fraction of expected value that will apply, on average, if the other side is informed, and therefore only sells when the asset has low value to her. Of course, given the UU situation, you do not know s, but you should rely on your mean value of your subjective distribution for that parameter.

If you knew p = 0, that the other side knew no more than you, you would simply make the offer if am > 1. If you knew there were selection, i.e., p = 1, you would invest if your multiple more than compensated for selection, namely if ams
> 1. The general formula is that your return will be:

am[ps + (1-p)1] .                                                                     (1)

Maxim E: A significant absolute advantage offers some protection against potential selection. You should invest in a UU world if your advantage multiple  is great, unless the probability is high the other side is informed and if, in addition, the expected selection factor is severe.

Following Maxim E, you should make your offer when the expression in (1) exceeds 1.

In practice, you will have a choice of offer, t. Thus, s will vary with t, i.e., s(t).32 The payoff for any t will be

If at the optimal offer t*, this quantity is positive, you should offer t*.

Playing the advantage multiple versus selection game. Our formulation posited a take-it-or-leave-it offer with no communication. In fact, most important financial exchanges have rounds of subtle back-and-forth discussion. This is not simply cheap talk. Sometimes real information is provided, e.g., accounting statements, geological reports, antique authentications. And offers by each side reveal information as well. Players on both sides know that information asymmetry is an enemy to both, as in any agency problem.

It is well known that if revealed information can be verified, and if the buyer knows on what dimensions information will be helpful, then by an unraveling argument all information gets revealed.33 Consider a one-dimension case where a value can be between 1 and 100. A seller with a 100 would surely reveal, implying the best unrevealed information would be 99. But then the 99 would reveal, and so on down through 2.

When the buyer is in a UU situation, unraveling does not occur, since he does not know the relevant dimensions. The seller will keep private unfavorable information on dimensions unknown to the buyer. She will engage in  signposting: announcing favorable information, suppressing unfavorable.34

The advantage multiple versus selection game will usually proceed with the seller explaining why she does not have private information, or revealing private information indicating that m and a are large. Still, many favorable deals will not get done, because the less informed party can not assess what it does not know. Both sides lose ex ante when there will be asymmetry on common value information, or when, as in virtually all UU situations, asymmetry is suspected.

Auctions as UU games. Auctions have exploded as mechanisms to sell everything from the communications spectrum to corporate securities. Economic analyses of auctions – how to conduct them and how to bid – have exploded alongside. The usual prescription is that the seller should reveal his information about elements that will affect all buyers’ valuations, e.g., geologic information on an oil lease or evidence of an antique’s pedigree, to remove buyers’ concerns about the Winner’s Curse. The Winner’s Curse applies when an object, such as an oil lease, is worth roughly the same to all. The high bidder should be aware that every other bidder thought it was worth less than he did. Hence, his estimate is too high, and he is cursed for winning.

Real world auctions are often much more complex. Even the rules of the game may not be known. Consider the common contemporary auction phenomenon, witnessed often with house sales in hot markets, and at times with the sale of corporations.35 The winner, who expected the final outcome to have been determined after one round of bidding, may be told there will be a best and final offer round, or that now she can negotiate a deal for the item.

Usually the owner of the object establishes the rules of the game. In theory, potential buyers would insist that they know the rules. In practice, they often have not. When Recovery Engineering, makers of PUR water purifiers, was sold in 1999, a “no one knows the rules” process ensued, with Morgan Stanley representing the seller. A preliminary auction was held on an August Monday. Procter and Gamble (P&G) and Gillette bid, and a third company expressed interest but said it had difficulties putting its bid together. Gillette’s bid was $27 per share; P&G’s was $22. P&G was told by the investment banker that it would have to improve its bid substantially. Presumably, Gillette was told little, but drew appropriate inferences, namely that it was by far high. The final auction was scheduled for that Friday at noon. Merrill Lynch, Gillette’s investment banker, called early on Friday requesting a number of additional pieces of due diligence information, and requesting a delay till Monday. Part of the information was released – Gillette had had months to request it – and the auction was delayed till 5 p.m. Friday. P&G bid $34. At 5 p.m., Merrill Lynch called, desperate, saying it could not get in touch with Gillette. Brief extensions were granted, but contact could not be established. P&G was told that it was the high bidder. Over the weekend a final deal was negotiated at a slightly higher price; the $300 million deal concluded. But would there have been a third round of auction if Gillette had bid $33.50 that Friday? No one knows.

The Recovery board puzzled over the unknowable question: What happened to Gillette? One possibility was that Gillette inferred from the fact that it was not told its Monday bid was low that it was in fact way above other bidders. It was simply waiting for a deal to be announced, and then would propose a price perhaps $2 higher, rather than bid and end up $5 higher.36 Gillette never came back. A while later, Recovery learned that Gillette was having – to that time unreported – financial difficulties. Presumably, at the moment of truth Gillette concluded that it was not the time to purchase a new business. In short, this was a game of unknowable rules, and unknowable strategies.37 Not unusual.

At the close of 2005, Citigroup made the winning bid of about $3 billion for 85% of the Guangdong Development Bank, a financially troubled state-owned Chinese bank. As the New York Times reported the deal, it “won the right to negotiate with the bank to buy the stake.” If successful there, its “control might allow Citigroup to install some new management and have some control over the bank’s future…one of the most destitute of China’s big banks…overrun by bad loans.”38 Citigroup is investing in a UU situation, and knows that both the rules  of the game and what it will win are somewhat undefined. But it is probably confident that other bidders were no better informed, and that both the bank and the Chinese government (which must approve the deal) may also not know the value of the bank, and were eager to secure foreign control. Great value may come from buying a pig in a poke, if others also can not open the bag.

Ideal investments with high and low payoffs. In many UU situations, even the events associated with future payoff levels – for example, whether a technology supplier produces a breakthrough or a new product emerges – are hard to foresee. The common solution in investment deals is to provide for distributions of the pie that depend not on what actually happens, but solely on money received. This would seem to simplify matters, but even in such situations sophisticated investors frequently get confused.

With venture capital in high tech, for example, it is not uncommon for those providing the capital to have a contractual claim to all the assets should the venture go belly up. Similarly, “cram down” financings, which frequently follow when startups underperform, often gives VCs a big boost in ownership share. In theory, such practices could provide strong incentives to the firm’s managers. In reality, the managers’ incentives are already enormous. Typical VC arrangements given bad outcomes cause serious ill will, and distort incentives – for example, they reward gambling behavior by managers after a bleak streak. Worse still for the VCs, they are increasing their share of the company substantially when the company is not worth much. They might do far better if arrangements specified that they sacrifice ownership share if matters turn out poorly, but gain share if the firm does particularly well.

Maxim F: In UU situations, even sophisticated investors tend to underweight how strongly the value of assets varies. The goal should be to get good payoffs when the value of assets is high.

No doubt Ricardo also took Maxim F into account when he purchased the “Waterloo bonds.” He knew that English money would be far more valuable if Wellington was victorious and his bonds soared in value, than if he lost and the bonds plummeted.

A UU investment problem. Now for a harder decision. Look at the letter in Exhibit A, which offers you the chance to make a modest investment in an oil well. You have never heard of Davis Oil and the letter came out of the blue, but you inquire and find out that it is the company previously owned by the famous, recently deceased oilman Marvin Davis. Your interest is offered because the Davis Company bought the managing partner’s interest in the prospect from a good friend and oil man who invited you into his prospect.39 Davis is legally required to make this offer to you. Decide whether to invest or merely wait for your costless override before you read on.

 
Here is what your author did. He started by assessing the situation. Davis could not exclude him, and clearly did not need his modest investment. The letter provided virtually no information, and was not even put on letterhead, presumably the favored Davis approach if it were trying to discourage investment. Davis had obviously spent a fair amount of effort determining whether to drill the well, and decided to go ahead. It must think its prospects were good, and you would be investing as a near partner.

Bearing this in mind, he called Bill Jaqua – a contact Davis identified in the letter – and asked about the well. He was informed it was a pure wildcat, and that it was impossible to guess the probability of success. Some geologic  technical discussion followed, which he tried to pretend he understood. He then asked what percent of Davis wildcat wells had been successful in recent years, and got a number of 20-25%. He then asked what the payoff was on average if  the wells were successful. The answer was 10 to 1. Beyond that, if this well was successful, there would be a number of other wells drilled in the field. Only participation now would give one the right to be a future partner, when presumably the odds would be much more favorable. This appeared to be a reasonably favorable investment, with a healthy upside option of future wells attached. The clinching argument was that Jaqua courteously explained that Davis would be happy to take his interest and give him the free override, thus reinforcing the message of the uninformative letter not placed on letterhead. (It turned out that the override would have only been 1% of revenue -- an amount not mentioned in the letter – as opposed to 76% if he invested.)40 In short, the structure of the situation, and the nature of Davis’s play made a sidecar investment imperative. The well has not yet been started.

Davis was in a tough situation. It had to invite in undesired partners on favorable terms when it had done all the work. It reversed the usual ploy where someone with a significant informational advantage tries to play innocent or worse, invoke some absolute advantage story. Davis tried to play up the UU aspect of the situation to discourage participation.

Review of the bidding. You have been asked to address some decision problems.  Go back now and grade yourself first on the overconfidence questionnaire. The answers are in the footnote.41

You were asked about three investments: Tengion, Gazprom and Davis Oil. Gazprom has done nicely over a six-month period. Neither of the other outcomes has been determined. Go back and reconsider your choices, and decide whether you employed the appropriate principles when making them, and then assess the more general implications for investment in UU situations. Though this essay pointed out pitfalls with UU investing, it was generally upbeat about the potential profits that reside in UU arenas. Hopefully you have been influenced, at least a bit.


V. A BUFFETT TALE

The following story encapsulates the fear of UU situations, even by sophisticated investors, and the potential for shrewd investors to take great advantage of such situations. In 1996, I was attending an NBER conference on insurance. One participant was the prime consultant to the California Earthquake Authority. He had been trying to buy a $1 billion slice of reinsurance – to take effect after $5 billion in aggregate insured losses -- from the New York financial community. The Authority was offering five times estimated actuarial value, but had no takers. It seemed exceedingly unlikely that the parties requesting coverage had inside information that a disastrous earthquake was likely. Hence, there was a big advantage, in effect a = 5, and p was close to 0. Maxim E – weigh absolute advantage against informational disadvantage – surely applied.

My dinner table syndicate swung into action, but ended up $999.9 million short. A couple days later, we learned that Buffett had flown to California to take the entire slice. Here is his explanation.

…we wrote a policy for the California Earthquake Authority that goes into effect on April 1, 1997, and that exposes us to a loss more than  twice that possible under the Florida contract. Again we retained all the risk for our own account. Large as these coverages are, Berkshire's after- tax "worst-case" loss from a true mega-catastrophe is probably no more than $600 million, which is less than 3% of our book value and 1.5% of our market value. To gain some perspective on this exposure, look at the table on page 2 and note the much greater volatility that security markets have delivered us. [Chairman’s letter to the Shareholders of Berkshire Hathaway, 1996, http://www.ifa.com/Library/Buffet.html]42


Reinsurance for earthquakes is certainly a venture into the unknown, but had many attractive features beyond its dramatic overpricing. Unlike most insurance, it was exceedingly unlikely that the parties taking insurance had inside knowledge on their risk. Thus, Buffett – despite attention to money management -- was willing to take 100% of a risk of which Wall Street firms houses rejected taking even part. Those fancy financial entities were not well equipped to take a risk on something that was hard for them to estimate. Perhaps they did not recognize that others had no inside information, that everyone was operating with the same probability. And perhaps they were just concerned about Monday Morning Quarterbacking.

It is also instructive to consider Buffett’s approach to assessing the probabilities in this UU situation, as revealed in the same annual report:

So what are the true odds of our having to make a payout during the policy's term? We don't know - nor do we think computer models will help us, since we believe the precision they project is a chimera. In fact, such models can lull decision-makers into a false sense of security and thereby increase their chances of making a really huge mistake. We've already seen such debacles in both insurance and investments. Witness "portfolio insurance," whose destructive effects in the 1987 market crash led one wag to observe that it was the computers that should have been jumping out of windows.

Buffett was basically saying to Wall Street firms: “Even if you hire 100 brilliant Ph.D.s to run your models, no sensible estimate will emerge.” These are precisely the types of UU situations where the competition will be thin, the odds likely favorable, and the Buffetts of this world can thrive.

As Buffett has shown on repeated occasions, a multi-billionaire will rush in where mathematical wizards fear to tread. Indeed, that explains much of his success. In 2006 hurricane insurance met two Buffett desiderata, high prices and reluctant competitors. So he plunged into the market:

Buffett’s prices are as much as 20 times higher than the rates prevalent a year ago, said Kevin Madden, an insurance broker at Aon Corp. in New York. On some policies, premiums equal half of its maximum potential payout, he said. [In a May 7, 2006, interview Buffett said:] “We will do more than anybody else if the price is right… We are certainly willing to lose $6 billion on a single event. I hope we don’t.'’ http://seekingalpha.com/article/11697

At least two important lessons emerge from thinking about the “advantage-versus-

Maxim G: Discounting for ambiguity is a natural tendency that should be overcome, just as should be overeating.

Maxim H: Do not engage in the heuristic reasoning that just because you do not know the risk, others do. Think carefully, and assess whether they are likely to know more than you. When the odds are extremely favorable, sometimes it pays to gamble on the unknown, even though there is some chance that people on the other side may know more than you.

Buffett took another bold financial move in 2006, in a quite different field, namely philanthropy. He announced that he would give away 85% of his fortune or $37.4 billion, with $31 billion going to the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Putting money with the Gates Foundation represents sidecar philanthropy. The Foundation is an extremely effective organization that focuses on health care and learning. It is soon to be led by Bill Gates, a fellow with creativity, vision and hardheadedness as strong complementary skills, skills which are as valuable in philanthropy as they are in business.

VI. CONCLUSION

This essay offers more speculations than conclusions, and provides anecdotal accounts rather than definitive data. Its theory is often tentative and implicit. But the question it seeks to answer is clear: How can one invest rationally in UU situations? The question sounds almost like an oxymoron. Yet clear thinking about UU situations, which includes prior diagnosis of their elements, and relevant practice with simulated situations, may vastly improve investment decisions where UU events are involved. If they do improve, such clear thinking will yield substantial benefits. For financial decisions at least, the benefits may be far greater than are available in run-of-the-mill contexts, since competition may be limited and prices well out of line.

How important are UU events in the great scheme of financial affairs? That itself is a UU question. But if we include only those that primarily affect individuals, the magnitude is far greater than what our news accounts would suggest. Learning to invest more wisely in a UU world may be the most promising way to significantly bolster your prosperity.

  
APPENDIX A

Assessing Quantities*


1.  Democratic votes in Montana, 2004 Presidential election
                                              2.    Length of Congo River (in miles)
                                              3.    Number of subscribers to Field and Stream
                                         4.    Area of Finland (in square miles)
                                         5.    Birth rate in France per 1,000 population
                                         6.    Population of Cambodia
                                         7.    Revenues of Wal-Mart Stores (largest in U.S.), 2003
8.  Annual Percent Yields on 30-Year Treasury Bonds   in 1981 (This year had the highest rate over the 1980-1998 period.)
                                         9.    Number of physicians in the United States, 2002
10.  Number of electoral votes going to Republican presidential candidate in 2008 (out of 538)
11.  Value of Dow Jones Average on December 31, 2006 (on 6/30/06 closed at 11,150)
12.  Value of the NASDAQ on December 31, 2006 (on 6/30/06 closed at 2,172)


1st %ile
25th %ile
50th %ile
75th %ile
99th %ile
Democratic votes MT
2004 Pres. election





Congo River
(length in miles)





Field & Stream (number
of subscribers)





Finland
(area in square miles)





Birth Rate of France
(per thousand)





Population of     Cambodia





Revenues of Wal-Mart
Stores, 2003





% Yields on
30-Year Bonds, 1981





Number of Physicians in
U.S., 2002





# electoral college votes,
Republican presidential candidate in 2008





Dow Jones Average 12/31/06
(on 6/30/06 closed at 11,150)





Value of NASDAQ 12/31/06
(on 6/30/06 closed at 2,172)





* Question 1, http://www.uselectionatlas.org/RESULTS/state.php?f=0&year=2004&fips=30. Questions 2-6, 1995 Information Please Almanac. Question 8, 1999 Wall Street Journal Almanac. Questions 7 & 9, World Almanac 2005.




                                     Remarks:
I thank Miriam Avins, Paul Samuelson and Nils Wernerfelt for helpful comments.

1 The financing of 36 million pounds was floated on the London Stock Exchange. Ricardo took a substantial share. His frequent correspondent Thomas Malthus took 5,000 pounds on Ricardo’s recommendation, but sold out shortly before news of the Waterloo outcome was received. The evidence is clear that Ricardo, in his words, understood the “dismal forebodings” of the situation, including “its consequences, on our [England’s] finances.” See Sraffa (1952, Vol VI, pp. 202, 229 and surrounding material.

2 Ralph Gomory’s (1995) literary essay on the Unknown and Unknowable provided inspiration. Miriam Avins provided helpful comments.

3 The classic description of uncertainty, a situation where probabilities could not be known, is due to Frank Knight (1921).

4 This is sometimes expressed that things move geometrically rather than arithmetically, or that the logarithm of price has a traditional symmetric distribution. The most studied special case is the lognormal distribution. See “Life is log-normal” by E. Limpert and W. Stahel, http://www.inf.ethz.ch/personal/gut/lognormal/brochure.html, for an argument on the widespread applicability of this distribution.

5 Ricardo’s major competitors were the Baring Brothers and the Rothschilds. Do not feel sorry for the Rothschilds. In the 14 years from 1814 to 1828 they multiplied their money 8-fold, often betting on UU situations, while the Baring Brothers lost capital. http://www.businessweek.com/1998/49/b3607071.htm. Analysis based on Niall Ferguson’s  House of Rothschild.

6 Hart and Tauman (2004) show that market crashes are possible purely due to information processing among market participants, with no new information.  They observe that the 1987  crash – 20% in a day – happened despite no new important information becoming available, nor negative economic performance after the crash. Market plunges due to ordinary information processing defies any conventional explanation, and is surely a UU event.

7 Nassim Taleb and Benoit Mandelbrot posit that many financial phenomena are distributed according to a power law, implying that the relative likelihood of movements of different sizes depends only on their ratio. Thus, a 20% market drop relative to a 10% drop is the same as a 10% drop relative to a 5%  drop.  http://www.fooledbyrandomness.com/fortune.pdf.  Power distributions have fat tails. In their empirical studies, economists frequently assume that  deviations from predicted values have normal distributions. That makes computations tractable, but evidence suggests that tails are often much thicker than with the normal. Zeckhauser and Thompson (1970).

8 Complementary skills can also help the less affluent invest.  Miriam Avins, a good friend,  moved into an edgy neighborhood in Baltimore because the abandoned house next door looked like a potential community garden, she knew she had the skills to move the project forward, and she valued the learning experience the house would bring to her family. Her house value doubled in 3 years, and her family learned as well.

9 Dinner speech to annual executive program on Investment Decisions and Behavioral Finance, John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, October 14, 2004.


10 This investment was proposed when this paper was presented at a conference sponsored by the Wharton School on January 6, 2006. The price was then 33.60. At press time nine months later it was $47.


12 Approximate average from Investment Decisions and Behavioral Finance, executive program, annually fall 2001-2006, and API-302, Analytic Frameworks for Policy course. The former is chaired, the latter taught by Richard Zeckhauser, Kennedy School, Harvard University.

13 See Gilbert (2006) for insightful discussions of the problems of rationalization and corrigibility.

14 See Viscusi and Zeckhauser (2005).

15Kahneman and Tversky (1979).

16 This illustration employs events that may have happened in the past, but subjects would not know. The purpose is to make payoffs immediate, since future payoffs suffer from a different  form of bias.

17 The experiment is at a disadvantage in getting this result, since peoples’ assessments of the contingencies’ probabilities would vary widely. Some would pick D because they attached an unusually high probability to it. In theory, one could ask people their probability estimate after they made their choice, and then look only at the answers of those for whom the probability was in a narrow range. However, individuals would no doubt adjust their retrospective probability estimates to help rationalize their choice.
  
18 This experiment and the choice between lotteries C and D above only approximate those with numerical probabilities, since they are calibrated for median responses and individuals’ estimates will differ.

19 In fact, Ellsberg’s experiment involved drawing a marble of a particular color from an urn. Subjects preferred a situation where the percentage of winning marbles was known, even if they could bet on either side when it was unknown.

20 Fox and Tversky (1995, p. 585) found that ambiguity aversion was “produced by a comparison with less ambiguous events or with more knowledgeable people….[it] seems to disappear in a noncomparative context.” Ambiguity aversion is still relevant for investments, if alternative investments are available and contemplated.

21 Paul Samuelson, who attends closely to most aspects of the finance field, attests to this challenge. He observed that the Renaissance Group, run by former Stony Brook math professor Jim Simons, is “perhaps the only long-time phenomenal performer [in traditional financial markets] on a risk-corrected basis.” Private communication, June 15, 2006.

22I saw such path blazing by my former business partner Victor Niederhoffer in the 1970s, when he ventured into commodity investing. His associates hand recorded commodity prices at 15- minute intervals. He lined up a flotilla of TRS-80 Radio Shack computers to parallel process this information. His innovative data mining, spurred by accompanying theories of how markets behave, gave him a giant advantage over major investment houses. Niederhoffer continues along unusual paths, now making a second fortune after losing his first in the collapse of the Thai baht in 1997.
http://www.greenwichtime.com/business/scn-sa-black1jun18,0,3887361.story?page=5&coll=green-business-headlines

23 Samuelson, Paul A. (1979). “Why We Should Not Make Mean Log of Wealth Big Though Years to Act Are Long,” Journal of Baking and Finance 3: 305-307.

24 http://www.investopedia.com/articles/trading/04/091504.asp. In an interesting coincidence, Elwyn Berlekamp, a distinguished Berkeley math professor who was Kelly’s research assistant, was an extremely successful investor in a brief stint managing a fund for Jim Simons. See  footnote 19.

25 In the language of decision theory, individuals who follow Kelly rather than maximizing expected utility would be making a sacrifice in the certainty equivalent value of their terminal wealth, i.e., the wealth that results after participating in a string of gambles. The Kelly criterion is appropriate for someone with a logarithmic utility function.

26 For example, in real estate, a limited partnership interest that will come due in a few years is likely to sell about 30% below discounted expected future value. The significant discount reflects the complementary skills of acquirers, who must be able to assess and unlock the value of idiosyncratic partnerships. Personal communication, Eggert Dagbjartsson, Equity Resource Investments, December 2005. That firm earns substantial excess returns through its combination of effective evaluation of UU situations, and the unusual complementary skill of being able to deal effectively with recalcitrant general partners. Experience with Dagbjartsson’s firm – with which the author is associated – helped inspire this paper.

27 Robert Aumann and Thomas Schelling won the 2005 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics for their contributions to game theory.

28 Given the potential for imperfect play, it is sometimes dangerous to draw inferences from the play of others, particularly when their preferences are hard to read. The Iraqi weapons of mass destruction provide a salient example. Many people were confident that such weapons were present not because of intelligence, but because they believed Saddam Hussein could have saved himself and his regime simply by letting in inspectors, who in the instance would find nothing.

29 In January 2006, Gazprom traded in the west as an ADR, but soon became an over-the-counter stock.

30 It is important that m < 1. Otherwise the seller would refuse your offer if he were uninformed.

31 In health care, this process is called adverse selection, with sicker people tending to enroll in more generous health plans.

32 Let v be the conditional mean of x < v. The value of s will be constant if v/v = positive k for all v. This will be the case if f(v) is homogeneous, i.e., f(kv) = knf(v), as with the uniform or triangular distribution starting at 0.

33 See Grossman (1981) on unraveling. If information is costly to reveal, then less favorable information is held back and signposting applies (Zeckhauser and Marks, 1996).

34 To be sure, the shrewd buyer can deduce: “Given the number of unknown dimensions I suspected, the seller has revealed relatively few.” Hence, I assume that there are a number of unfavorable dimensions, etc. When seller revelation is brief, only high m buyers will make exchanges. The doubly shrewd buyer may be informed or get informed on some dimension without the seller knowing which. He can then say: “I have unfavorable information on a dimension. Unless you reveal on all dimensions, this information will stay private, and I will  know that you are suppressing information.” The triply shrewd buyer, knowing nothing, will  make the same statement. The shrewd seller has countermeasures, such as insisting on proof that the buyer is informed, e.g., by third party attestation, and if evidence is received then revealing some but not all, hoping to hit the lucky dimension.

35 See Subramanian and Zeckhauser (2004), who apply the term “negotiauctions” to such processes.

36 Recovery created a countermeasure to raise any post-deal bid by inserting a breakup fee in its deal with P&G that declined (ultimately to 0) with the price premium paid by a new buyer.

37 Details confirmed by Brian Sullivan, then CEO of Recovery Engineering, in personal communication, January 2006. Zeckhauser was on the Recovery board due to a sidecar privilege. He had been Sullivan’s teacher, and had gotten him the job.

38 New York Times, December 31, 2005, B1 and B4. Citigroup had several Chinese state-owned companies as partners, but they probably gave more political cover than knowledge of the value of the bank.

39 That man was Malcolm Brachman, president of Northwest Oil, a bridge teammate and close friend. Sadly Malcolm had died in the interim. One consequence was that he could not advise  you.

40 Not mentioned in the letter was that 24% went off the top to priority claims, and that Davis charges 75% if you take the free override.

41 1) 173,710 2) 2,716 3) 2,007,901 4) 130,119 5) 13 6) 12,212,000 7) $259B 8) 13.45% 9)
853,000, 10) 173, 11) 12,466, 12) 2,444


REFERENCES

Alpert, M. and Raiffa, H. (1982). “A Progress Report on the Training of Probability Assessors,” in Judgment Under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases, Kahneman, D., P. Slovic, and A. Tversky, (eds.), pp. 294-305. Cambridge University Press, New York.

Aumann, R. (1976). “Agreeing to Disagree,” Annals of Statistics 4: 1236-1239.

Bazerman, M. and Samuelson, W. (1983). “I Won the Auction But Don’t Want the Prize,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 27: 618-634.

Bohnet, I. and Zeckhauser, R. (2004). “Trust, Risk and Betrayal,” Journal of Economic Behavior and Organization 55: 467-484.

Ellsberg, D. (1961). “Risk, Ambiguity, and the Savage Axioms,” Quarterly Journal of Economics 75: 643-669.

Fox,   C.   and   Tversky, A.  (1995).  “Ambiguity Aversion and Comparative Ignorance,” Quarterly Journal of Economics 110(3): 585-603.
Gilbert, D. (2006). Stumbling on Happiness. Alfred A. Knopf, New York. Gomory,  R., (June 1995).   “An Essay on the Known, the Unknown and the
Unknowable,” Scientific American 272: 120.

Grossman, S.J. (1981). “The Informational Role of Warranties and Private Disclosure about Product Quality,” Journal of Law and Economics, 24(3): 461-483.

Hart,  S.  and  Tauman, Y. (2004).  “Market Crashes without External Shocks,”
Journal of Business 77(1): 1-8.

Kahneman,  D.  and  Tversky,  A.  (1979). “Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decision Under Risk,” Econometrica 47, 263-291.
Knight, F. (2001). Risk, Uncertainty and Profit. Houghton Mifflin, Boston. Munger, C. (2005). Poor Charlie’s Almanack: The Wit and Wisdom of Charles

Raiffa, H. (1968). Decision Analysis.  Addison-Wesley, Reading, MA. Samuelson, P. (1979). “Why We Should Not Make Mean Log of Wealth Big
Though Years to Act Are Long,” Journal of Banking and Finance 3: 305-307.
Savage, L. J. (1954). The Foundations of Statistics. Wiley, New York. Sraffa, P. editor with M.H. Dobb (1952). The Works and Correspondence of
David Ricardo. Cambridge University Press: London.

Subramanian, G. and Zeckhauser, R. (2005). “‘Negotiauctions’: Taking a Hybrid Approach to the Sale of High Value Assets,” Negotiation 8(2): 4-6.

Tversky, A. and Kahneman, D. (1974). Judgment under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases,” Science 185: 1124-1131.

Viscusi, W.K. and Zeckhauser, R. (2005). “Recollection Bias and the Combat of Terrorism,” Journal of Legal Studies 34: 27-55.

Zeckhauser, R. and Thompson, M. (1970). “Linear Regression with Non-Normal Error Terms,” Review of Economics and Statistics 52(3): 280-286.

Zeckhauser, R. and Marks, D. (1996). “Signposting: The Selective Revelation of Product Information,” in Wise Choices: Games, Decisions, and Negotiations, Zeckhauser, R., R. Keeney, and J. Sebenius (eds.), pp. 22-
41. Harvard Business School Press, Boston.