Joe Nocera is a bright guy. Over the course
of a lengthy career, the former Fortune executive editor has won numerous
awards for excellence in business journalism and recently co-authored a
penetrating analysis of the financial crisis (All the Devils Are Here: The Hidden
History of the Financial Crisis). He now hangs his hat at the New
York Times, covering a wide range of business-related topics.
Mr. Nocera also stands out for his
willingness to discuss the sorry state of his personal finances, a startling
admission for a world-class financial journalist. With his sixtieth birthday
approaching, he recently revealed to readers that his 401(k) is “in tatters.”
Some of the culprits are familiar: A concentrated strategy during the
technology boom put a big dent in his portfolio, and a divorce several years
later inflicted similar damage. A third source of difficulty is harder to
fathom—the decision to raid his 401(k) to fund a home remodeling project. Such
behavior strikes us as the sort of short-term thinking journalists are so quick
to condemn in the executive suite. Mr. Nocera acknowledges that good financial
advisors provide sound advice regarding discipline and diversification, but he
doesn’t appear to have consulted one.
Mr. Nocera found a sympathetic ear in
Teresa Ghilarducci, a behavioral economist at The New School. She was not the
least bit surprised by his experience—most humans, in her view, have neither
the skill nor the emotional stability to be successful investors. She finds the
entire concept of a participant-driven 401(k) a “failed experiment.”
Prompted by this tale of woe, I dug out
twenty-three years’ worth of 401(k) statements and surveyed the results for the
first time. As a thirty-nine-year-old research director at LPL Financial, I was
late to the starting line for the retirement race. I filled out the enrollment
forms and devoted about three minutes to the task of selecting my retirement
plan vehicles. When I opened my first 401(k) statement in March 1990, it showed
a whopping balance of $195.26 from investments in three Putnam Equity mutual
funds—two US and one global. (Mr. Nocera says he began putting retirement money
away in the late 1970s, so he had at least a ten-year head start.)
After joining Dimensional in early 1995, I
liquidated the Putnam funds and placed the rollover balance in Dimensional’s
401(k). I don’t recall what my thinking was at the time, but with seven equity
funds in my account rather than three, it seems plausible that I devoted more
than three minutes to the portfolio construction decision. Maybe six.
Over the last twenty-three years I have
occasionally been tempted to fiddle with the allocation scheme, usually after
some big move in the markets up or down. But I am skeptical of my capacity for
self-discipline. What if a tactical decision to underweight small stocks or
overweight emerging markets turned out to be right? Would I be tempted to make
an even bigger bet the next time? I could find myself on a slippery slope
leading to a one-fund portfolio. My preferred strategy, as a result, is to do
nothing. Some might argue I have taken this slothful approach to an extreme,
having never added a new fund to the lineup (no Emerging Markets Value?!),
never tweaked the portfolio weights, and never rebalanced. Call it the Rip Van
Winkle strategy—when you get the urge to do something, take a nap.
From a humble beginning, my account has
grown to a generous sum over the past twenty-three years, although it hasn’t
always been smooth sailing. Using quarterly data, the overall value fell 12.8%
during the technology stock meltdown (March 31, 2000–September 30, 2002) and
suffered a thumping loss of 46.8% during the financial crisis (September 30,
2007–March 31, 2009), despite a stream of fresh contributions. But the recovery
was dramatic as well—up 77.5% for the twelve months ending March 2010 and up
another 23.5% for the subsequent year. The current balance exceeds the 2007
high water mark by a comfortable margin. This is not an exercise in
self-congratulation, just an example of what anyone could have done by
harnessing the forces of competitive markets.
Perhaps the 401(k), in its current form, is
indeed a “failed experiment” for a substantial fraction of the workforce.
Another interpretation is that the 401(k) was never intended as a centerpiece
for retirement funding, and the enrollment process cries out for improvement.
Participant outcomes might be greatly enhanced if choices were presented in a
way that acknowledges persistent behavioral traits leading to poor decisions.
And when it comes to charting one’s
financial future, it appears even journalists skillful enough to unravel
complicated financial puzzles can benefit from an objective second opinion.
Wellington, Weston. “A “Failed
Experiment”?”. Dimensional Funds. 9 May. 2011.