Berkshire Hathaway Letters to Shareholders: 1965-2024

by Warren Buffett

We correctly foresaw a flight to quality by many large buyers of insurance and reinsurance who belatedly recognized that a policy is only an IOU—and who, in 1985, could not collect on many of their IOUs. These buyers today are attracted to Berkshire because of its strong capital position. But, in a development we did not foresee, we also are finding buyers drawn to us because our ability to insure substantial risks sets us apart from the crowd.

In any business, insurance or otherwise, “except for” should be excised from the lexicon. If you are going to play the game, you must count the runs scored against you in all nine innings. Any manager who consistently says “except for” and then reports on the lessons he has learned from his mistakes may be missing the only important lesson—namely, that the real mistake is not the act, but the actor. Inevitably, of course, business errors will occur and the wise manager will try to find the proper lessons in them. But the trick is to learn most lessons from the experiences of others. Managers who have learned much from personal experience in the past usually are destined to learn much from personal experience in the future.

We mentioned earlier that in the past decade the investment environment has changed from one in which great businesses were totally unappreciated to one in which they are appropriately recognized. The Washington Post Company (“WPC”) provides an excellent

We bought all of our WPC holdings in mid-1973 at a price of not more than one-fourth of the then per-share business value of the enterprise. Calculating the price/value ratio required no unusual insights. Most security analysts, media brokers, and media executives would have estimated WPC’s intrinsic business value at $400 to $500 million just as we did. And its $100 million stock market valuation was published daily for all to see.

Most institutional investors in the early 1970s, on the other hand, regarded business value as of only minor relevance when they were deciding the prices at which they would buy or sell. This now seems hard to believe. However, these institutions were then under the spell of academics at prestigious business schools who were preaching a newly-fashioned theory: the stock market was totally efficient, and therefore calculations of business value—and even thought, itself—were of no importance in investment activities.

Through 1973 and 1974, WPC continued to do fine as a business, and intrinsic value grew. Nevertheless, by yearend 1974 our WPC holding showed a loss of about 25%, with market value at $8 million against our cost of $10.6 million. What we had thought ridiculously cheap a year earlier had become a good bit cheaper as the market, in its infinite wisdom, marked WPC stock down to well below 20 cents on the dollar of intrinsic value.

You know the happy outcome. Kay Graham, CEO of WPC, had the brains and courage to repurchase large quantities of stock for the company at those bargain prices, as well as the managerial skills necessary to dramatically increase business values. Meanwhile, investors began to recognize the exceptional economics of the business and the stock price moved closer to underlying value. Thus, we experienced a triple dip: the company’s business value soared upward, per-share business value increased considerably faster because of stock repurchases and, with a narrowing of the discount, the stock price outpaced the gain in per-share business value.

You will notice that we had a significant holding in Beatrice Companies at yearend. This is a short-term arbitrage holding—in effect, a parking place for money (though not a totally safe one, since deals sometimes fall through and create substantial losses). We sometimes enter the arbitrage field when we have more money than ideas, but only to participate in announced mergers and sales. We would be a lot happier if the funds currently employed on this short-term basis found a long-term home. At the moment, however, prospects are bleak.

Right after yearend, Berkshire purchased 3 million shares of Capital Cities/ABC, Inc. (“Cap Cities”) at $172.50 per share, the market price of such shares at the time the commitment was made early in March, 1985.

Today, corporate instability is an inevitable consequence of widely-diffused ownership of voting stock. At any time a major holder can surface, usually mouthing reassuring rhetoric but frequently harboring uncivil intentions. By circumscribing our blocks of stock as we often do, we intend to promote stability where it otherwise might be lacking. That kind of certainty, combined with a good manager and a good business, provides excellent soil for a rich financial harvest. That’s the economic case for our arrangements.

Our Cap Cities purchase was made at a full price, reflecting the very considerable enthusiasm for both media stocks and media properties that has developed in recent years (and that, in the case of some property purchases, has approached a mania). it’s no field for bargains.

Of course, some of you probably wonder why we are now buying Cap Cities at $172.50 per share given that your Chairman, in a characteristic burst of brilliance, sold Berkshire’s holdings in the same company at $43 per share in 1978-80.

Right after yearend we acquired The Scott & Fetzer Company (“Scott Fetzer”) of Cleveland for about $320 million. (In addition, about $90 million of pre-existing Scott Fetzer debt remains in place.) In the next section of this report I describe the sort of businesses that we wish to buy for Berkshire. Scott Fetzer is a prototype—understandable, large, well-managed, a good earner. The company has sales of about $700 million derived from 17 businesses, many leaders in their fields. Return on invested capital is good to excellent for most of these businesses.

The Scott Fetzer acquisition, plus major growth in our insurance business, should push revenues above $2 billion in 1986, more than double those of 1985.

The Scott Fetzer purchase illustrates our somewhat haphazard approach to acquisitions. We have no master strategy, no corporate planners delivering us insights about socioeconomic trends, and no staff to investigate a multitude of ideas presented by promoters and intermediaries. Instead, we simply hope that something sensible comes along—and, when it does, we act.

On the other hand, we frequently get approached about acquisitions that don’t come close to meeting our tests: new ventures, turnarounds, auction-like sales, and the ever-popular (among brokers) “I’m-sure-something-will-work-out-if-you-people-get-to-know-each-other”. None of these attracts us in the least.

we are also interested in the negotiated purchase of large, but not controlling, blocks of stock, as in our Cap Cities purchase. Such purchases appeal to us only when we are very comfortable with both the economics of the business and the ability and integrity of the people running the operation.

In past reports I have noted that book value at most companies differs widely from intrinsic business value—the number that really counts for owners. In our own case, however, book value has served for more than a decade as a reasonable if somewhat conservative proxy for business value.

business value is a soft number: in our own case, two equally well-informed observers might make judgments more than 10% apart.

A large measure of our improvement in business value relative to book value reflects the outstanding performance of key managers at our major operating businesses. These managers—the Blumkins, Mike Goldberg, the Heldmans, Chuck Huggins, Stan Lipsey, and Ralph Schey—have over the years improved the earnings of their businesses dramatically while, except in the case of insurance, utilizing little additional capital. This accomplishment builds economic value, or “Goodwill,”

Charlie Munger, our Vice Chairman, and I really have only two jobs. One is to attract and keep outstanding managers to run our various operations. This hasn’t been all that difficult. Usually the managers came with the companies we bought, having demonstrated their talents throughout careers that spanned a wide variety of business circumstances. They were managerial stars long before they knew us, and our main contribution has been to not get in their way.

A by-product of our managerial style is the ability it gives us to easily expand Berkshire’s activities. We’ve read management treatises that specify exactly how many people should report to any one executive, but they make little sense to us. When you have able managers of high character running businesses about which they are passionate, you can have a dozen or more reporting to you and still have time for an afternoon nap. Conversely, if you have even one person reporting to you who is deceitful, inept or uninterested, you will find yourself with more than you can handle. Charlie and I could work with double the number of managers we now have, so long as they had the rare qualities of the present ones.

The second job Charlie and I must handle is the allocation of capital, which at Berkshire is a considerably more important challenge than at most companies. Three factors make that so: we earn more money than average; we retain all that we earn; and, we are fortunate to have operations that, for the most part, require little incremental capital to remain competitive and to grow.

If our retained earnings—and those of our major investees, GEICO and Capital Cities/ABC, Inc.—are employed in an unproductive manner, the economics of Berkshire will deteriorate very quickly.

Capital allocation at Berkshire was tough work in 1986.

Meanwhile, we had no new ideas in the marketable equities field, an area in which once, only a few years ago, we could readily employ large sums in outstanding businesses at very reasonable prices. So our main capital allocation moves in 1986 were to pay off debt and stockpile funds. Neither is a fate worse than death, but they do not inspire us to do handsprings either.

If Charlie and I were to draw blanks for a few years in our capital-allocation endeavors, Berkshire’s rate of growth would slow significantly.

Under current stock market conditions, we have little hope of finding equities to buy for our insurance companies. Markets will change significantly—you can be sure of that and some day we will again get our turn at bat. However, we haven’t the faintest idea when that might happen.

See’s has a one-of-a-kind product “personality” produced by a combination of its candy’s delicious taste and moderate price, the company’s total control of the distribution process, and the exceptional service provided by store employees. Chuck rightfully measures his success by the satisfaction of

The new company, as is the case with all LBOS, started with an exceptionally high debt/equity ratio. After the buy out, however, operations continued to be very successful. So by the start of last year debt had been paid down substantially and the value of the equity had increased dramatically.

You may be amused to know that neither Charlie nor I have been to Cincinnati, headquarters for Fechheimer, to see their operation. (And, incidentally, it works both ways: Chuck Huggins, who has been running See’s for 15 years, has never been to Omaha.) If our success were to depend upon insights we developed through plant inspections, Berkshire would be in big trouble. Rather, in considering an acquisition, we attempt to evaluate the economic characteristics of the business—its competitive strengths and weaknesses—and the quality of the people we will be joining. Fechheimer was a standout in both respects.

The combined ratio represents total insurance costs (losses incurred plus expenses) compared to revenue from premiums: a ratio below 100 indicates an underwriting profit, and one above 100 indicates a loss. When the investment income that an insurer earns from holding on to policyholders’ funds (“the float”) is taken into account, a combined ratio in the 107-112 range typically produces an overall break-even result, exclusive of earnings on the funds provided by shareholders.

Pricing behavior in the insurance industry continues to be exactly what can be expected in a commodity-type business. Only under shortage conditions are high profits achieved, and such conditions don’t last long. When the profit sun begins to shine, long-established insurers shower investors with new shares in order to build capital. In addition, newly-formed insurers rush to sell shares at the advantageous prices available in the new-issue market (prices advantageous, that is, to the insiders promoting the company but rarely to the new shareholders). These moves guarantee future trouble: capacity soars, competitive juices flow, and prices fade.

By raising large amounts of capital in the last two years, the insurance industry has, to continue our metaphor, vastly expanded its plantings of corn. The resulting increase in “crop”—i.e., the proliferation of insurance capacity—will have the same effect on prices and profits that surplus crops have had since time immemorial.

Interestingly, we were the slowest-growing large insurer in the years immediately preceding 1985. In fact, we shrank—and we will do so again from time to time in the future. Our large swings in volume do not mean that we come and go from the insurance marketplace. Indeed, we are its most steadfast participant, always standing ready, at prices we believe adequate, to write a wide variety of high-limit coverages. The swings in our volume arise instead from the here-today, gone-tomorrow behavior of other insurers. When most insurers are “gone,” because their capital is inadequate or they have been frightened by losses, insureds rush to us and find us ready to do business. But when hordes of insurers are “here,” and are slashing prices far below expectable costs, many customers naturally leave us in order to take advantage of the bargains temporarily being offered by our competition.

Ironically, the managers of certain major new competitors are the very same managers that just a few years ago bankrupted insurers that were our old competitors. Through state-mandated guaranty funds, we must pay some of the losses these managers left unpaid, and now we find them writing the same sort of business under a new name. C’est la guerre.

In our insurance operations we have an advantage in attitude, we have an advantage in capital, and we are developing an advantage in personnel. Additionally, I like to think we have some long-term edge in investing the float developed from policyholder funds. The nature of the business suggests that we will need all of these advantages in order to prosper.

The most important ingredient in GEICO’s success is rock-bottom operating costs, which set the company apart from literally hundreds of competitors that offer auto insurance. The total of GEICO’s underwriting expense and loss adjustment expense in 1986 was only 23.5% of premiums. Many major companies show percentages 15 points higher than that.

The difference between GEICO’s costs and those of its competitors is a kind of moat that protects a valuable and much-sought-after business castle. No one understands this moat-around-the-castle concept better than Bill Snyder, Chairman of GEICO. He continually widens the moat by driving down costs still more, thereby defending and strengthening the economic franchise.

Lou has consistently invested in undervalued common stocks that, individually, were unlikely to present him with a permanent loss and that, collectively, were close to risk-free.

During 1986, our insurance companies purchased about $700 million of tax-exempt bonds, most having a maturity of 8 to 12 years. You might think that this commitment indicates a considerable enthusiasm for such bonds. Unfortunately, that’s not so: at best, the bonds are mediocre investments. They simply seemed the least objectionable alternative at the time we bought them, and still seem so. (Currently liking neither stocks nor bonds,

We must, of necessity, hold marketable securities in our insurance companies and, as money comes in, we have only five directions to go: (1) long-term common stock investments; (2) long-term fixed-income securities; (3) medium-term fixed-income securities; (4) short-term cash equivalents; and (5) short-term arbitrage commitments. Common stocks, of course, are the most fun. When conditions are right that is, when companies with good economics and good management sell well below intrinsic business value—stocks sometimes provide grand-slam home runs. But we currently find no equities that come close to meeting our tests. This statement in no way translates into a stock market prediction: we have no idea—and never have had—whether the market is going to go up, down, or sideways in the near- or intermediate term future. What we do know, however, is that occasional outbreaks of those two super-contagious diseases, fear and greed, will forever occur in the investment community. The timing of these epidemics will be unpredictable. And the market aberrations produced by them will be equally unpredictable, both as to duration and degree. Therefore, we never try to anticipate the

arrival or departure of either disease. Our goal is more modest: we simply attempt to be fearful when others are greedy and to be greedy only when others are fearful. As this is written, little fear is visible in Wall Street. Instead, euphoria prevails—and why not? What could be more exhilarating than to participate in a bull market in which the rewards to owners of businesses become gloriously uncoupled from the plodding performances of the businesses themselves. Unfortunately, however, stocks can’t outperform businesses indefinitely. Indeed, because of the heavy transaction and investment management costs they bear, stockholders as a whole and over the long term must inevitably underperform the companies they own. If American business, in aggregate, earns about 12% on equity annually, investors must end up earning significantly less. Bull markets can obscure mathematical laws, but they cannot repeal them.

Our aversion to long-term bonds relates to our fear that we will see much higher rates of inflation within the next decade. Over time, the behavior of our currency will be determined by the behavior of our legislators. This relationship poses a continuing threat to currency stability—and a corresponding threat to the owners of long-term bonds.

In any event, you should know that our expectations for both the stocks and bonds we now hold are exceptionally modest, given current market levels. Probably the best thing that could happen to us is a market in which we would choose to sell many of our bond holdings at a significant loss in order to re-allocate funds to the far-better equity values then very likely to exist. The bond losses I am talking about would occur if high interest rates came along; the same rates would probably depress common stocks considerably more than medium-term bonds.

Despite the enthusiasm for activity that has swept business and financial America, we will stick with our ‘til-death-do-us-part policy. It’s the only one with which Charlie and I are comfortable, it produces decent results, and it lets our managers and those of our investees run their businesses free of distractions.

The tax rate on corporate ordinary income is scheduled to decrease from 46% in 1986 to 34% in 1988.

What really happens? When the corporate rate is cut, do Berkshire, The Washington Post, Cap Cities, etc., themselves soak up the benefits, or do these companies pass the benefits along to their customers in the form of lower prices? This is an important question for investors and managers, as well as for policymakers.

Our conclusion is that in some cases the benefits of lower corporate taxes fall exclusively, or almost exclusively, upon the corporation and its shareholders, and that in other cases the benefits are entirely, or almost entirely, passed through to the customer. What determines the outcome is the strength of the corporation’s business franchise and whether the profitability of that franchise is regulated.

For example, when the franchise is strong and after-tax profits are regulated in a relatively precise manner, as is the case with electric utilities, changes in corporate tax rates are largely reflected in prices, not in profits. When taxes are cut, prices will usually be reduced in short ord...