In my last post, I discussed the merits of a combined portfolio of stocks and bonds as compared to an all-stock portfolio. I found that the bonds in a combined portfolio will often help mitigate losses when stocks are declining, as is happening right now. But as recent events have shown, that mitigation can be fickle, and a combined portfolio will rarely generate positive returns when an all-stock portfolio is experiencing a major correction or crash. For example, a portfolio of 60% stocks and 40% bonds (60/40 portfolio) historically experienced about half the annual loss of an all-stock portfolio in years when stocks declined.
Because stock returns have easily trounced bond returns over most of U.S. market history, I concluded last time that the main reason people hold bonds is to feel better during a temporary stock correction. But the reduced losses offered by a combined portfolio might still be too much emotional pain for some investors. When stocks decline by -30%, there’s no guarantee that the average investor won’t panic and sell when their combined portfolio drops by only -15%. Since I first wrote that about two weeks ago, the ongoing market turmoil has caused me to think a lot more about the assumptions surrounding investor moods.
How Do You Really Feel?
The idea that bonds will insulate you from emotionally-driven bad decisions seems reasonable on its face, but what’s the evidence supporting this claim? Just in the last month, I’ve witnessed multiple professional investors giving media quotes like, “In these turbulent times, having some bonds will allow you to sleep at night”. How do these professionals know that I will sleep better at night with a 60/40 portfolio? How do they even know that such statements apply to clients they’ve known for years? Perhaps some clients with bond-heavy portfolios are too embarrassed to admit that they pace the floor at night anyway. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that most investors and advisers spend tons of time quantifying asset values and movements, but almost no time trying to systematically assess their own emotions or those of their clients¹.
Further, focusing on how we feel during temporary losses seems to miss a large part of the emotional spectrum. What about feeling good when our portfolios perform well? Does that help counteract bad feelings when our portfolios are in decline? How quickly does one emotional extreme erase the lingering effects of the last emotional extreme? And don’t we feel regret when another simple portfolio outperforms our portfolio for many years? Do our negative or positive moods compound in response to mounting losses or gains over time? Or do we become numb to more losses and accustomed to more gains the longer they continue? What’s our aggregate mood as all these competing emotions swirl in and out of our heads over time?
Right now, the entire investing world is focused on the fear of further stock market plunges. So, I can’t think of a better time to attempt a broader assessment of our investing emotions. While I can’t hope to answer all the questions I posed in the previous paragraph, it seems entirely possible to more systematically assess the cumulative impact of a wider spectrum of investing emotions.
I call my more systematic assessment the “Happy-Crappy Investometer”. As you’ll see, the H-C Meter (for short) is not entirely objective or quantitative because our emotions are inherently subjective. However, the H-C Meter is at least semi-quantitative because:
- It uses portfolio returns and volatility to score the magnitude of several emotional drivers
- Consistently quantifies those drivers
- And tracks their cumulative changes over time.
While the H-C Meter has tons of limitations and caveats, it seems infinitely better than unsupported platitudes that focus solely on our fear of crashes. And examining a wider spectrum of emotions over longer periods might give us all a little better perspective on how we feel right now when the stock market can drop by 10% in one day. Perhaps the H-C Meter might even tell us something about the conventional wisdom of holding bonds.
Building The Happy-Crappy Investometer
First, recent market events make it pretty clear that investors feel happier when portfolio values increase and sadder (and/or madder) when values decrease. The social scientists Daniel Kahneman and Simon Teversky have quantified through experiments that we usually feel about 2 to 2.5 times worse about losses than we feel good about gains, although in some cases they found the multiplier was much higher. They called this cognitive bias “loss aversion”.
Second, it also seems self-evident that we feel some pride when our portfolio is outperforming other standard portfolios and envy when we’re underperforming those same portfolios. For example, an investor in an all-stock portfolio would feel pride in beating the 60/40 portfolio (as in, “I’m so smart I didn’t include those useless bonds”). But they would feel envy if they underperformed that same portfolio (as in, “I’m so stupid to have not diversified more”).
Third, observing my own investing life, both my good and bad feelings seem to fade with time. One of the central tenants of Buddhism is the idea of impermanence; the only constant in life is change itself. Let’s say my portfolio’s annual return was +20% five years ago, and it’s gone neither up nor down since then. I’m sure I would feel pretty jazzed about those gains when they first occurred, but five years later that thrill would have mostly faded away, and my mind would be more focused on my portfolio’s recent lack of progress.
Using these three measures of investing mood, I built the H-C meter by adding them together to give a total cumulative mood score as shown in this graphic (click on the image to enlarge).
For each measure, one percent contributes one point to the total score, except for absolute losses, which I multiplied by 2.5 to represent loss aversion. The scale of the rightmost “mood score” is entirely relative and has no meaningful units. As the overall mood score gets higher or lower, the investor theoretically feels progressively better or worse.
I calculated the H-C score on an annual basis for an all-stock portfolio (S&P 500) and an all-bond portfolio (10-year U.S. Treasury) using return statistics from Aswath Damodaran going back to 1928. And from those data, I calculated the same scores for a 60/40 portfolio assuming annual rebalancing.
The relative performance metric is calculated by comparing the all-stock and all-bond portfolios to the performance of the 60/40 portfolio. The 60/40 portfolio is compared to the all-stock portfolio because loss aversion theory suggests that a 60/40 portfolio holder would pay more attention to underperforming stocks than outperforming bonds.
Given that mindful investors have a long-term horizon, I calculated the cumulative total mood scores over 10-year periods. So, the mood effect from years of gains gets subtracted out by years of losses (and vice versa) in both absolute and relative terms.
Finally, the mood fader is a simple calculation that subtracts two percent if a portfolio had a positive score in the previous year and adds two percent if the previous year’s score was negative. I guessed that the rate of mood fade might be something like 2% per year. So, I’m assuming that the increased “comfort” generated by, for example, a 10% gain one year will have completely faded five years later. So, all the scores are gently pushed overtime back to an equilibrium mood state, which on the total mood score scale I called a “tolerable” condition.
Of course, the H-C Meter covers only some of the many questions about investing emotions that I raised at the outset. But at least it covers some of the questions in a fairly reasonable, semi-quantitative, and consistent way. And it covers way more than just thinking about how temporarily scared we are from this month’s stock market plunge.
Happy-Crappy Investometer Results
So, what does the H-C Meter tell us about the likely overall moods of long-term investors in each of the three portfolios (all-stock, 60/40, and all-bond)? Let’s start by looking at an example of a very crappy decade for investing (1928-1937) and a relatively happy and recent decade (2010-2019). Here’s the graph for the crappy decade involving the Great Depression.
The stock portfolio investor had a pretty happy first year (green zone), but his mood was dismal five years later (red zone), as the stock market plummeted. The bond portfolio investor bumps around in a mostly tolerable mood (yellow zone) for the entire decade. By 1932, the bond investor’s not ecstatic, but she’s got a slight smile on her face because she knows she’s avoiding all the stock carnage and even making some meager gains. As you might expect, the 60/40 portfolio investor’s mood is somewhere in between the other two investors. At least in this period, bonds functioned as advertised and help buoy a bond investor’s mood.
Now let’s look at a happy decade.
As you might have expected, the stock investor just got happier and happier. Even though the mood from previous years’ gains is continually fading, the successive new gains keep restoking the happiness fire. In contrast, the bond investor is still bumping around in the “tolerable” range. And if anything, her mood is getting a little worse toward the end of the decade because her relatively meager bond gains fuel envy of the stock portfolio’s terrific gains. The 60/40 investor is moderately happy by the end, but he’s also pretty envious of the all-stock portfolio.
These comparisons confirm that in a down stock market the all-bond investor will probably feel better than the all-stock investor. And that’s the prevailing mood right now. But in an up stock market, the bond investor will feel just okay, assuming he or she can tolerate a high FOMO level. But looking at individual decades still doesn’t tell us which portfolio will maximize our mood because we can’t predict whether the next decade will be good or bad.
What if we look instead at the entire history of stock and bond returns and calculate the rolling-average cumulative mood score for every possible decade? In that case, we’d be looking at the rightmost datapoint on each decade graph that I could generate from these data. In other words, we’re answering this question: “If I was holding any of these three portfolios, how would I have felt at the end of every possible decade since 1928?” Here’s that graph.
It turns out that holding an all-stock portfolio would have made you feel pretty good over the majority of stock/bond market history. But there would have been a few times when you could have felt pretty darn bad. Holding an all-bond portfolio would have made you feel ambivalent (or tolerable) over most of market history. But there would have been a few times when you could have felt bad, particularly the 15 years ending from about 1950 to 1965, and a few times when you could have felt pretty good. Again, the 60/40 portfolio produced moods intermediate between stock and bonds with a few brief exceptions.
If we assume history is indicative of a future range of possible market conditions, we can estimate the probabilities of various future moods with each portfolio from this summary graph of the rolling-decade analysis above.
If past is prologue, then the H-C Meter says there’s a 70% probability of feeling “good” or “great” when investing in an all-stock portfolio and only a 10% chance of feeling “bad” or “terrible”. With the all-bond portfolio, there’s actually a greater chance (20%) of feeling bad but a much lower chance (23%) of feeling good, basically at times when the stock market crashes. And there’s nearly a 60% chance that the all-bond investor will simply feel ambivalent or “tolerable”. The 60/40 investor’s chances of feeling bad are only 5%, even better than with stocks, but the trade-off is a pretty low (30%) chance of feeling good.
Conclusions
I’m sure some readers are thinking: “But my all-stock portfolio is making me feel supremely crappy right now.” So, the H-C Meter may seem like an irrelevant and misguided measure of our actual moods. But that’s missing the point. The H-C Meter is looking at cumulative moods as they change over 10-year periods. Current events in the stock market are just a temporary blip on your emotional radar. But it’s hard for any of us to see that right now.
When we’re in a fender bender it’s hard to think about how everything will be back to normal soon or consider all the great things in our lives². All we can feel is anger at ourselves or the other driver, dismay at the upcoming hassles, and fear about the possible consequences—paying for repairs, getting cited by the police, getting hit with higher insurance rates, etc. It’s hard to realize that in a year or so we might look back and laugh at the incident, even though in some corner of our minds we know that’s probably true. So, if you’re investing solely to maximize your long-term investing mood, I think the H-C Meter points you in the right direction. The best probability of feeling net good over the long-term is with an all-stock portfolio.
I’m not here to tell you that what you’re feeling right now is “wrong”. You feel how you feel, and standard mindful practice is to allow those short-term feelings and examine them with a dash of judgment-free curiosity. Mindful self-examination reminds us that extreme momentary fear will pass. That’s because everything passes, even our worst feelings. And they invariably transform into something new or different.
The H-C Meter is just an imperfect reminder that this too shall pass. Assuming you have an investing plan and you stick to it, you should be able to recognize that an all-stock portfolio has offered a great long-term mood over the last decade. And all evidence suggests that you will return to a long-term good mood if you can simply not respond to those temporary waves of fear today.
1 – Some advisers spend a considerable portion of their time assessing their clients’ emotions. Some even go so far as to say that the primary role of an adviser is emotional management. Kudos to them.
2 – Although it might not feel like it right now, I think most Americans know they have many blessings, particularly as compared to people in third-world countries who face even more substantial health and economic uncertainties every day.