Chairman's Letter - 1985

Chairman’s Letter - 1985

BERKSHIRE HATHAWAY INC.

To the Shareholders of Berkshire Hathaway Inc.:

You may remember the wildly upbeat message of last year’s

report: nothing much was in the works but our experience had been

that something big popped up occasionally. This carefully-

crafted corporate strategy paid off in 1985. Later sections of

this report discuss (a) our purchase of a major position in

Capital Cities/ABC, (b) our acquisition of Scott & Fetzer, (c)

our entry into a large, extended term participation in the

insurance business of Fireman’s Fund, and (d) our sale of our

stock in General Foods.

Our gain in net worth during the year was $613.6 million, or

48.2%. It is fitting that the visit of Halley’s Comet coincided

with this percentage gain: neither will be seen again in my

lifetime. Our gain in per-share book value over the last twenty-

one years (that is, since present management took over) has been

from $19.46 to $1643.71, or 23.2% compounded annually, another

percentage that will not be repeated.

Two factors make anything approaching this rate of gain

unachievable in the future. One factor probably transitory - is

a stock market that offers very little opportunity compared to

the markets that prevailed throughout much of the 1964-1984

period. Today we cannot find significantly-undervalued equities

to purchase for our insurance company portfolios. The current

situation is 180 degrees removed from that existing about a

decade ago, when the only question was which bargain to choose.

This change in the market also has negative implications for

our present portfolio. In our 1974 annual report I could say:

“We consider several of our major holdings to have great

potential for significantly increased values in future years.” I

can’t say that now. It’s true that our insurance companies

currently hold major positions in companies with exceptional

underlying economics and outstanding managements, just as they

did in 1974. But current market prices generously appraise these

attributes, whereas they were ignored in 1974. Today’s

valuations mean that our insurance companies have no chance for

future portfolio gains on the scale of those achieved in the

past.

The second negative factor, far more telling, is our size.

Our equity capital is more than twenty times what it was only ten

years ago. And an iron law of business is that growth eventually

dampens exceptional economics. just look at the records of high-

return companies once they have amassed even $1 billion of equity

capital. None that I know of has managed subsequently, over a

ten-year period, to keep on earning 20% or more on equity while

reinvesting all or substantially all of its earnings. Instead,

to sustain their high returns, such companies have needed to shed

a lot of capital by way of either dividends or repurchases of

stock. Their shareholders would have been far better off if all

earnings could have been reinvested at the fat returns earned by

these exceptional businesses. But the companies simply couldn’t

turn up enough high-return opportunities to make that possible.

Their problem is our problem. Last year I told you that we

needed profits of $3.9 billion over the ten years then coming up

to earn 15% annually. The comparable figure for the ten years

now ahead is $5.7 billion, a 48% increase that corresponds - as

it must mathematically - to the growth in our capital base during

  1. (Here’s a little perspective: leaving aside oil companies,

only about 15 U.S. businesses have managed to earn over $5.7

billion during the past ten years.)

Charlie Munger, my partner in managing Berkshire, and I are

reasonably optimistic about Berkshire’s ability to earn returns

superior to those earned by corporate America generally, and you

will benefit from the company’s retention of all earnings as long

as those returns are forthcoming. We have several things going

for us: (1) we don’t have to worry about quarterly or annual

figures but, instead, can focus on whatever actions will maximize

long-term value; (2) we can expand the business into any areas

that make sense - our scope is not circumscribed by history,

structure, or concept; and (3) we love our work. All of these

help. Even so, we will also need a full measure of good fortune

to average our hoped-for 15% - far more good fortune than was

required for our past 23.2%.

We need to mention one further item in the investment

equation that could affect recent purchasers of our stock.

Historically, Berkshire shares have sold modestly below intrinsic

business value. With the price there, purchasers could be

certain (as long as they did not experience a widening of this

discount) that their personal investment experience would at

least equal the financial experience of the business. But

recently the discount has disappeared, and occasionally a modest

premium has prevailed.

The elimination of the discount means that Berkshire’s

market value increased even faster than business value (which,

itself, grew at a pleasing pace). That was good news for any

owner holding while that move took place, but it is bad news for

the new or prospective owner. If the financial experience of new

owners of Berkshire is merely to match the future financial

experience of the company, any premium of market value over

intrinsic business value that they pay must be maintained.

Management cannot determine market prices, although it can,

by its disclosures and policies, encourage rational behavior by

market participants. My own preference, as perhaps you’d guess,

is for a market price that consistently approximates business

value. Given that relationship, all owners prosper precisely as

the business prospers during their period of ownership. Wild

swings in market prices far above and below business value do not

change the final gains for owners in aggregate; in the end,

investor gains must equal business gains. But long periods of

substantial undervaluation and/or overvaluation will cause the

gains of the business to be inequitably distributed among various

owners, with the investment result of any given owner largely

depending upon how lucky, shrewd, or foolish he happens to be.

Over the long term there has been a more consistent

relationship between Berkshire’s market value and business value

than has existed for any other publicly-traded equity with which

I am familiar. This is a tribute to you. Because you have been

rational, interested, and investment-oriented, the market price

for Berkshire stock has almost always been sensible. This

unusual result has been achieved by a shareholder group with

unusual demographics: virtually all of our shareholders are

individuals, not institutions. No other public company our size

can claim the same.

You might think that institutions, with their large staffs

of highly-paid and experienced investment professionals, would be

a force for stability and reason in financial markets. They are

not: stocks heavily owned and constantly monitored by

institutions have often been among the most inappropriately

valued.

Ben Graham told a story 40 years ago that illustrates why

investment professionals behave as they do: An oil prospector,

moving to his heavenly reward, was met by St. Peter with bad

news. “You’re qualified for residence”, said St. Peter, “but, as

you can see, the compound reserved for oil men is packed.

There’s no way to squeeze you in.” After thinking a moment, the

prospector asked if he might say just four words to the present

occupants. That seemed harmless to St. Peter, so the prospector

cupped his hands and yelled, “Oil discovered in hell.”

Immediately the gate to the compound opened and all of the oil

men marched out to head for the nether regions. Impressed, St.

Peter invited the prospector to move in and make himself

comfortable. The prospector paused. “No,” he said, “I think

I’ll go along with the rest of the boys. There might be some

truth to that rumor after all.”

Sources of Reported Earnings

The table on the next page shows the major sources of

Berkshire’s reported earnings. These numbers, along with far

more detailed sub-segment numbers, are the ones that Charlie and

I focus upon. We do not find consolidated figures an aid in

either managing or evaluating Berkshire and, in fact, never

prepare them for internal use.

Segment information is equally essential for investors

wanting to know what is going on in a multi-line business.

Corporate managers always have insisted upon such information

before making acquisition decisions but, until a few years ago,

seldom made it available to investors faced with acquisition and

disposition decisions of their own. Instead, when owners wishing

to understand the economic realities of their business asked for

data, managers usually gave them a we-can’t-tell-you-what-is-

going-on-because-it-would-hurt-the-company answer. Ultimately

the SEC ordered disclosure of segment data and management began

supplying real answers. The change in their behavior recalls an

insight of Al Capone: “You can get much further with a kind word

and a gun than you can with a kind word alone.”

In the table, amortization of Goodwill is not charged against the

specific businesses but, for reasons outlined in the Appendix to

my letter in the 1983 annual report, is aggregated as a separate

item. (A compendium of the 1977-1984 letters is available upon

request.) In the Business Segment Data and Management’s

Discussion sections on pages 39-41 and 49-55, much additional

information regarding our businesses is provided, including

Goodwill and Goodwill Amortization figures for each of the

segments. I urge you to read those sections as well as Charlie

Munger’s letter to Wesco shareholders, which starts on page 56.

(000s omitted)


Berkshire’s Share

of Net Earnings

(after taxes and

Pre-Tax Earnings minority interests)


1985 1984 1985 1984


Operating Earnings:

Insurance Group:

Underwriting ……………. $(44,230) $(48,060) $(23,569) $(25,955)

Net Investment Income ……. 95,217 68,903 79,716 62,059

Associated Retail Stores …… 270 (1,072) 134 (579)

Blue Chip Stamps ………….. 5,763 (1,843) 2,813 (899)

Buffalo News ……………… 29,921 27,328 14,580 13,317

Mutual Savings and Loan ……. 2,622 1,456 4,016 3,151

Nebraska Furniture Mart ……. 12,686 14,511 5,181 5,917

Precision Steel …………… 3,896 4,092 1,477 1,696

See’s Candies …………….. 28,989 26,644 14,558 13,380

Textiles …………………. (2,395) 418 (1,324) 226

Wesco Financial …………… 9,500 9,777 4,191 4,828

Amortization of Goodwill …… (1,475) (1,434) (1,475) (1,434)

Interest on Debt ………….. (14,415) (14,734) (7,288) (7,452)

Shareholder-Designated

Contributions ………….. (4,006) (3,179) (2,164) (1,716)

Other ……………………. 3,106 4,932 2,102 3,475


Operating Earnings ………….. 125,449 87,739 92,948 70,014

Special General Foods Distribution 4,127 8,111 3,779 7,294

Special Washington Post

Distribution …………….. 14,877 — 13,851 —

Sales of Securities …………. 468,903 104,699 325,237 71,587


Total Earnings - all entities … $613,356 $200,549 $435,815 $148,895

======== ======== ======== ========

Our 1985 results include unusually large earnings from the

sale of securities. This fact, in itself, does not mean that we

had a particularly good year (though, of course, we did).

Security profits in a given year bear similarities to a college

graduation ceremony in which the knowledge gained over four years

is recognized on a day when nothing further is learned. We may

hold a stock for a decade or more, and during that period it may

grow quite consistently in both business and market value. In

the year in which we finally sell it there may be no increase in

value, or there may even be a decrease. But all growth in value

since purchase will be reflected in the accounting earnings of

the year of sale. (If the stock owned is in our insurance

subsidiaries, however, any gain or loss in market value will be

reflected in net worth annually.) Thus, reported capital gains or

losses in any given year are meaningless as a measure of how well

we have done in the current year.

A large portion of the realized gain in 1985 ($338 million

pre-tax out of a total of $488 million) came about through the

sale of our General Foods shares. We held most of these shares

since 1980, when we had purchased them at a price far below what

we felt was their per/share business value. Year by year, the

managerial efforts of Jim Ferguson and Phil Smith substantially

increased General Foods’ business value and, last fall, Philip

Morris made an offer for the company that reflected the increase.

We thus benefited from four factors: a bargain purchase price, a

business with fine underlying economics, an able management

concentrating on the interests of shareholders, and a buyer

willing to pay full business value. While that last factor is

the only one that produces reported earnings, we consider

identification of the first three to be the key to building value

for Berkshire shareholders. In selecting common stocks, we

devote our attention to attractive purchases, not to the

possibility of attractive sales.

We have again reported substantial income from special

distributions, this year from Washington Post and General Foods.

(The General Foods transactions obviously took place well before

the Philip Morris offer.) Distributions of this kind occur when

we sell a portion of our shares in a company back to it

simultaneously with its purchase of shares from other

shareholders. The number of shares we sell is contractually set

so as to leave our percentage ownership in the company precisely

the same after the sale as before. Such a transaction is quite

properly regarded by the IRS as substantially equivalent to a

dividend since we, as a shareholder, receive cash while

maintaining an unchanged ownership interest. This tax treatment

benefits us because corporate taxpayers, unlike individual

taxpayers, incur much lower taxes on dividend income than on

income from long-term capital gains. (This difference will be

widened further if the House-passed tax bill becomes law: under

its provisions, capital gains realized by corporations will be

taxed at the same rate as ordinary income.) However, accounting

rules are unclear as to proper treatment for shareholder

reporting. To conform with last year’s treatment, we have shown

these transactions as capital gains.

Though we have not sought out such transactions, we have

agreed to them on several occasions when managements initiated

the idea. In each case we have felt that non-selling

shareholders (all of whom had an opportunity to sell at the same

price we received) benefited because the companies made their

repurchases at prices below intrinsic business value. The tax

advantages we receive and our wish to cooperate with managements

that are increasing values for all shareholders have sometimes

led us to sell - but only to the extent that our proportional

share of the business was undiminished.

At this point we usually turn to a discussion of some of our

major business units. Before doing so, however, we should first

look at a failure at one of our smaller businesses. Our Vice

Chairman, Charlie Munger, has always emphasized the study of

mistakes rather than successes, both in business and other

aspects of life. He does so in the spirit of the man who said:

“All I want to know is where I’m going to die so I’ll never go

there.” You’ll immediately see why we make a good team: Charlie

likes to study errors and I have generated ample material for

him, particularly in our textile and insurance businesses.

Shutdown of Textile Business

In July we decided to close our textile operation, and by

yearend this unpleasant job was largely completed. The history

of this business is instructive.

When Buffett Partnership, Ltd., an investment partnership of

which I was general partner, bought control of Berkshire Hathaway

21 years ago, it had an accounting net worth of $22 million, all

devoted to the textile business. The company’s intrinsic

business value, however, was considerably less because the

textile assets were unable to earn returns commensurate with

their accounting value. Indeed, during the previous nine years

(the period in which Berkshire and Hathaway operated as a merged

company) aggregate sales of $530 million had produced an

aggregate loss of $10 million. Profits had been reported from

time to time but the net effect was always one step forward, two

steps back.

At the time we made our purchase, southern textile plants -

largely non-union - were believed to have an important

competitive advantage. Most northern textile operations had

closed and many people thought we would liquidate our business as

well.

We felt, however, that the business would be run much better

by a long-time employee whom. we immediately selected to be

president, Ken Chace. In this respect we were 100% correct: Ken

and his recent successor, Garry Morrison, have been excellent

managers, every bit the equal of managers at our more profitable

businesses.

In early 1967 cash generated by the textile operation was

used to fund our entry into insurance via the purchase of

National Indemnity Company. Some of the money came from earnings

and some from reduced investment in textile inventories,

receivables, and fixed assets. This pullback proved wise:

although much improved by Ken’s management, the textile business

never became a good earner, not even in cyclical upturns.

Further diversification for Berkshire followed, and

gradually the textile operation’s depressing effect on our

overall return diminished as the business became a progressively

smaller portion of the corporation. We remained in the business

for reasons that I stated in the 1978 annual report (and

summarized at other times also): “(1) our textile businesses are

very important employers in their communities, (2) management has

been straightforward in reporting on problems and energetic in

attacking them, (3) labor has been cooperative and understanding

in facing our common problems, and (4) the business should

average modest cash returns relative to investment.” I further

said, “As long as these conditions prevail - and we expect that

they will - we intend to continue to support our textile business

despite more attractive alternative uses for capital.”

It turned out that I was very wrong about (4). Though 1979

was moderately profitable, the business thereafter consumed major

amounts of cash. By mid-1985 it became clear, even to me, that

this condition was almost sure to continue. Could we have found

a buyer who would continue operations, I would have certainly

preferred to sell the business rather than liquidate it, even if

that meant somewhat lower proceeds for us. But the economics

that were finally obvious to me were also obvious to others, and

interest was nil.

I won’t close down businesses of sub-normal profitability

merely to add a fraction of a point to our corporate rate of

return. However, I also feel it inappropriate for even an

exceptionally profitable company to fund an operation once it

appears to have unending losses in prospect. Adam Smith would

disagree with my first proposition, and Karl Marx would disagree

with my second; the middle ground is the only position that

leaves me comfortable.

I should reemphasize that Ken and Garry have been

resourceful, energetic and imaginative in attempting to make our

textile operation a success. Trying to achieve sustainable

profitability, they reworked product lines, machinery

configurations and distribution arrangements. We also made a

major acquisition, Waumbec Mills, with the expectation of

important synergy (a term widely used in business to explain an

acquisition that otherwise makes no sense). But in the end

nothing worked and I should be faulted for not quitting sooner.

A recent Business Week article stated that 250 textile mills have

closed since 1980. Their owners were not privy to any

information that was unknown to me; they simply processed it more

objectively. I ignored Comte’s advice - “the intellect should be

the servant of the heart, but not its slave” - and believed what

I preferred to believe.

The domestic textile industry operates in a commodity

business, competing in a world market in which substantial excess

capacity exists. Much of the trouble we experienced was

attributable, both directly and indirectly, to competition from

foreign countries whose workers are paid a small fraction of the

U.S. minimum wage. But that in no way means that our labor force

deserves any blame for our closing. In fact, in comparison with

employees of American industry generally, our workers were poorly

paid, as has been the case throughout the textile business. In

contract negotiations, union leaders and members were sensitive

to our disadvantageous cost position and did not push for

unrealistic wage increases or unproductive work practices. To

the contrary, they tried just as hard as we did to keep us

competitive. Even during our liquidation period they performed

superbly. (Ironically, we would have been better off financially

if our union had behaved unreasonably some years ago; we then

would have recognized the impossible future that we faced,

promptly closed down, and avoided significant future losses.)

Over the years, we had the option of making large capital

expenditures in the textile operation that would have allowed us

to somewhat reduce variable costs. Each proposal to do so looked

like an immediate winner. Measured by standard return-on-

investment tests, in fact, these proposals usually promised

greater economic benefits than would have resulted from

comparable expenditures in our highly-profitable candy and

newspaper businesses.

But the promised benefits from these textile investments

were illusory. Many of our competitors, both domestic and

foreign, were stepping up to the same kind of expenditures and,

once enough companies did so, their reduced costs became the

baseline for reduced prices industrywide. Viewed individually,

each company’s capital investment decision appeared cost-

effective and rational; viewed collectively, the decisions

neutralized each other and were irrational (just as happens when

each person watching a parade decides he can see a little better

if he stands on tiptoes). After each round of investment, all

the players had more money in the game and returns remained

anemic.

Thus, we faced a miserable choice: huge capital investment

would have helped to keep our textile business alive, but would

have left us with terrible returns on ever-growing amounts of

capital. After the investment, moreover, the foreign competition

would still have retained a major, continuing advantage in labor

costs. A refusal to invest, however, would make us increasingly

non-competitive, even measured against domestic textile

manufacturers. I always thought myself in the position described

by Woody Allen in one of his movies: “More than any other time in

history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair

and utter hopelessness, the other to total extinction. Let us

pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly.”

For an understanding of how the to-invest-or-not-to-invest

dilemma plays out in a commodity business, it is instructive to

look at Burlington Industries, by far the largest U.S. textile

company both 21 years ago and now. In 1964 Burlington had sales

of $1.2 billion against our $50 million. It had strengths in

both distribution and production that we could never hope to

match and also, of course, had an earnings record far superior to

ours. Its stock sold at 60 at the end of 1964; ours was 13.

Burlington made a decision to stick to the textile business,

and in 1985 had sales of about $2.8 billion. During the 1964-85

period, the company made capital expenditures of about $3

billion, far more than any other U.S. textile company and more

than $200-per-share on that $60 stock. A very large part of the

expenditures, I am sure, was devoted to cost improvement and

expansion. Given Burlington’s basic commitment to stay in

textiles, I would also surmise that the company’s capital

decisions were quite rational.

Nevertheless, Burlington has lost sales volume in real

dollars and has far lower returns on sales and equity now than 20

years ago. Split 2-for-1 in 1965, the stock now sells at 34 –

on an adjusted basis, just a little over its $60 price in 1964.

Meanwhile, the CPI has more than tripled. Therefore, each share

commands about one-third the purchasing power it did at the end

of 1964. Regular dividends have been paid but they, too, have

shrunk significantly in purchasing power.

This devastating outcome for the shareholders indicates what

can happen when much brain power and energy are applied to a

faulty premise. The situation is suggestive of Samuel Johnson’s

horse: “A horse that can count to ten is a remarkable horse - not

a remarkable mathematician.” Likewise, a textile company that

allocates capital brilliantly within its industry is a remarkable

textile company - but not a remarkable business.

My conclusion from my own experiences and from much

observation of other businesses is that a good managerial record

(measured by economic returns) is far more a function of what

business boat you get into than it is of how effectively you row

(though intelligence and effort help considerably, of course, in

any business, good or bad). Some years ago I wrote: “When a

management with a reputation for brilliance tackles a business

with a reputation for poor fundamental economics, it is the

reputation of the business that remains intact.” Nothing has

since changed my point of view on that matter. Should you find

yourself in a chronically-leaking boat, energy devoted to

changing vessels is likely to be more productive than energy

devoted to patching leaks.


There is an investment postscript in our textile saga. Some

investors weight book value heavily in their stock-buying

decisions (as I, in my early years, did myself). And some

economists and academicians believe replacement values are of

considerable importance in calculating an appropriate price level

for the stock market as a whole. Those of both persuasions would

have received an education at the auction we held in early 1986

to dispose of our textile machinery.

The equipment sold (including some disposed of in the few

months prior to the auction) took up about 750,000 square feet of

factory space in New Bedford and was eminently usable. It

originally cost us about $13 million, including $2 million spent

in 1980-84, and had a current book value of $866,000 (after

accelerated depreciation). Though no sane management would have

made the investment, the equipment could have been replaced new

for perhaps $30-$50 million.

Gross proceeds from our sale of this equipment came to

$163,122. Allowing for necessary pre- and post-sale costs, our

net was less than zero. Relatively modern looms that we bought

for $5,000 apiece in 1981 found no takers at $50. We finally

sold them for scrap at $26 each, a sum less than removal costs.

Ponder this: the economic goodwill attributable to two paper

routes in Buffalo - or a single See’s candy store - considerably

exceeds the proceeds we received from this massive collection of

tangible assets that not too many years ago, under different

competitive conditions, was able to employ over 1,000 people.

Three Very Good Businesses (and a Few Thoughts About Incentive

Compensation)

When I was 12, I lived with my grandfather for about four

months. A grocer by trade, he was also working on a book and

each night he dictated a few pages to me. The title - brace

yourself - was “How to Run a Grocery Store and a Few Things I

Have Learned About Fishing”. My grandfather was sure that

interest in these two subjects was universal and that the world

awaited his views. You may conclude from this section’s title

and contents that I was overexposed to Grandpa’s literary style

(and personality).

I am merging the discussion of Nebraska Furniture Mart,

See’s Candy Shops, and Buffalo Evening News here because the

economic strengths, weaknesses, and prospects of these businesses

have changed little since I reported to you a year ago. The

shortness of this discussion, however, is in no way meant to

minimize the importance of these businesses to us: in 1985 they

earned an aggregate of $72 million pre-tax. Fifteen years ago,

before we had acquired any of them, their aggregate earnings were

about $8 million pre-tax.

While an increase in earnings from $8 million to $72 million

sounds terrific - and usually is - you should not automatically

assume that to be the case. You must first make sure that

earnings were not severely depressed in the base year. If they

were instead substantial in relation to capital employed, an even

more important point must be examined: how much additional

capital was required to produce the additional earnings?

In both respects, our group of three scores well. First,

earnings 15 years ago were excellent compared to capital then

employed in the businesses. Second, although annual earnings are

now $64 million greater, the businesses require only about $40

million more in invested capital to operate than was the case

then.

The dramatic growth in earning power of these three

businesses, accompanied by their need for only minor amounts of

capital, illustrates very well the power of economic goodwill

during an inflationary period (a phenomenon explained in detail

in the 1983 annual report). The financial characteristics of

these businesses have allowed us to use a very large portion of

the earnings they generate elsewhere. Corporate America,

however, has had a different experience: in order to increase

earnings significantly, most companies have needed to increase

capital significantly also. The average American business has

required about $5 of additional capital to generate an additional

$1 of annual pre-tax earnings. That business, therefore, would

have required over $300 million in additional capital from its

owners in order to achieve an earnings performance equal to our

group of three.

When returns on capital are ordinary, an earn-more-by-

putting-up-more record is no great managerial achievement. You

can get the same result personally while operating from your

rocking chair. just quadruple the capital you commit to a savings

account and you will quadruple your earnings. You would hardly

expect hosannas for that particular accomplishment. Yet,

retirement announcements regularly sing the praises of CEOs who

have, say, quadrupled earnings of their widget company during

their reign - with no one examining whether this gain was

attributable simply to many years of retained earnings and the

workings of compound interest.

If the widget company consistently earned a superior return

on capital throughout the period, or if capital employed only

doubled during the CEO’s reign, the praise for him may be well

deserved. But if return on capital was lackluster and capital

employed increased in pace with earnings, applause should be

withheld. A savings account in which interest was reinvested

would achieve the same year-by-year increase in earnings - and,

at only 8% interest, would quadruple its annual earnings in 18

years.

The power of this simple math is often ignored by companies

to the detriment of their shareholders. Many corporate

compensation plans reward managers handsomely for earnings

increases produced solely, or in large part, by retained earnings

fixed-price stock options are granted routinely, often by

companies whose dividends are only a small percentage of

earnings.

An example will illustrate the inequities possible under

such circumstances. Let’s suppose that you had a $100,000

savings account earning 8% interest and “managed” by a trustee

who could decide each year what portion of the interest you were

to be paid in cash. Interest not paid out would be “retained

earnings” added to the savings account to compound. And let’s

suppose that your trustee, in his superior wisdom, set the “pay-

out ratio” at one-quarter of the annual earnings.

Under these assumptions, your account would be worth

$179,084 at the end of ten years. Additionally, your annual

earnings would have increased about 70% from $8,000 to $13,515

under this inspired management. And, finally, your “dividends”

would have increased commensurately, rising regularly from $2,000

in the first year to $3,378 in the tenth year. Each year, when

your manager’s public relations firm prepared his annual report

to you, all of the charts would have had lines marching skyward.

Now, just for fun, let’s push our scenario one notch further

and give your trustee-manager a ten-year fixed-price option on

part of your “business” (i.e., your savings account) based on its

fair value in the first year. With such an option, your manager

would reap a substantial profit at your expense - just from

having held on to most of your earnings. If he were both

Machiavellian and a bit of a mathematician, your manager might

also have cut the pay-out ratio once he was firmly entrenched.

This scenario is not as farfetched as you might think. Many

stock options in the corporate world have worked in exactly that

fashion: they have gained in value simply because management

retained earnings, not because it did well with the capital in

its hands.

Managers actually apply a double standard to options.

Leaving aside warrants (which deliver the issuing corporation

immediate and substantial compensation), I believe it is fair to

say that nowhere in the business world are ten-year fixed-price

options on all or a portion of a business granted to outsiders.

Ten months, in fact, would be regarded as extreme. It would be

particularly unthinkable for managers to grant a long-term option

on a business that was regularly adding to its capital. Any

outsider wanting to secure such an option would be required to

pay fully for capital added during the option period.

The unwillingness of managers to do-unto-outsiders, however,

is not matched by an unwillingness to do-unto-themselves.

(Negotiating with one’s self seldom produces a barroom brawl.)

Managers regularly engineer ten-year, fixed-price options for

themselves and associates that, first, totally ignore the fact

that retained earnings automatically build value and, second,

ignore the carrying cost of capital. As a result, these managers

end up profiting much as they would have had they had an option

on that savings account that was automatically building up in

value.

Of course, stock options often go to talented, value-adding

managers and sometimes deliver them rewards that are perfectly

appropriate. (Indeed, managers who are really exceptional almost

always get far less than they should.) But when the result is

equitable, it is accidental. Once granted, the option is blind

to individual performance. Because it is irrevocable and

unconditional (so long as a manager stays in the company), the

sluggard receives rewards from his options precisely as does the

star. A managerial Rip Van Winkle, ready to doze for ten years,

could not wish for a better “incentive” system.

(I can’t resist commenting on one long-term option given an

“outsider”: that granted the U.S. Government on Chrysler shares

as partial consideration for the government’s guarantee of some

lifesaving loans. When these options worked out well for the

government, Chrysler sought to modify the payoff, arguing that

the rewards to the government were both far greater than intended

and outsize in relation to its contribution to Chrysler’s

recovery. The company’s anguish over what it saw as an imbalance

between payoff and performance made national news. That anguish

may well be unique: to my knowledge, no managers - anywhere -

have been similarly offended by unwarranted payoffs arising from

options granted to themselves or their colleagues.)

Ironically, the rhetoric about options frequently describes

them as desirable because they put managers and owners in the

same financial boat. In reality, the boats are far different.

No owner has ever escaped the burden of capital costs, whereas a

holder of a fixed-price option bears no capital costs at all. An

owner must weigh upside potential against downside risk; an

option holder has no downside. In fact, the business project in

which you would wish to have an option frequently is a project in

which you would reject ownership. (I’ll be happy to accept a

lottery ticket as a gift - but I’ll never buy one.)

In dividend policy also, the option holders’ interests are

best served by a policy that may ill serve the owner. Think back

to the savings account example. The trustee, holding his option,

would benefit from a no-dividend policy. Conversely, the owner

of the account should lean to a total payout so that he can

prevent the option-holding manager from sharing in the account’s

retained earnings.

Despite their shortcomings, options can be appropriate under

some circumstances. My criticism relates to their indiscriminate

use and, in that connection, I would like to emphasize three

points:

First, stock options are inevitably tied to the overall

performance of a corporation. Logically, therefore, they should

be awarded only to those managers with overall responsibility.

Managers with limited areas of responsibility should have

incentives that pay off in relation to results under their

control. The .350 hitter expects, and also deserves, a big

payoff for his performance - even if he plays for a cellar-

dwelling team. And the .150 hitter should get no reward - even

if he plays for a pennant winner. Only those with overall

responsibility for the team should have their rewards tied to its

results.

Second, options should be structured carefully. Absent

special factors, they should have built into them a retained-

earnings or carrying-cost factor. Equally important, they should

be priced realistically. When managers are faced with offers for

their companies, they unfailingly point out how unrealistic

market prices can be as an index of real value. But why, then,

should these same depressed prices be the valuations at which

managers sell portions of their businesses to themselves? (They

may go further: officers and directors sometimes consult the Tax

Code to determine the lowest prices at which they can, in effect,

sell part of the business to insiders. While they’re at it, they

often elect plans that produce the worst tax result for the

company.) Except in highly unusual cases, owners are not well

served by the sale of part of their business at a bargain price -

whether the sale is to outsiders or to insiders. The obvious

conclusion: options should be priced at true business value.

Third, I want to emphasize that some managers whom I admire

enormously - and whose operating records are far better than mine

built corporate cultures that work, and fixed-price options have

been a tool that helped them. By their leadership and example,

and by the use of options as incentives, these managers have

taught their colleagues to think like owners. Such a Culture is

rare and when it exists should perhaps be left intact - despite

inefficiencies and inequities that may infest the option program.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” is preferable to “purity at any

price”.

At Berkshire, however, we use an incentive@compensation

system that rewards key managers for meeting targets in their own

bailiwicks. If See’s does well, that does not produce incentive

compensation at the News - nor vice versa. Neither do we look at

the price of Berkshire stock when we write bonus checks. We

believe good unit performance should be rewarded whether

Berkshire stock rises, falls, or stays even. Similarly, we think

average performance should earn no special rewards even if our

stock should soar. “Performance”, furthermore, is defined in

different ways depending upon the underlying economics of the

business: in some our managers enjoy tailwinds not of their own

making, in others they fight unavoidable headwinds.

The rewards that go with this system can be large. At our

various business units, top managers sometimes receive incentive

bonuses of five times their base salary, or more, and it would

appear possible that one manager’s bonus could top $2 million in

  1. (I hope so.) We do not put a cap on bonuses, and the

potential for rewards is not hierarchical. The manager of a

relatively small unit can earn far more than the manager of a

larger unit if results indicate he should. We believe, further,

that such factors as seniority and age should not affect

incentive compensation (though they sometimes influence basic

compensation). A 20-year-old who can hit .300 is as valuable to

us as a 40-year-old performing as well.

Obviously, all Berkshire managers can use their bonus money

(or other funds, including borrowed money) to buy our stock in

the market. Many have done just that - and some now have large

holdings. By accepting both the risks and the carrying costs

that go with outright purchases, these managers truly walk in the

shoes of owners.

Now let’s get back - at long last - to our three businesses:

At Nebraska Furniture Mart our basic strength is an

exceptionally low-cost operation that allows the business to

regularly offer customers the best values available in home

furnishings. NFM is the largest store of its kind in the

country. Although the already-depressed farm economy worsened

considerably in 1985, the store easily set a new sales record. I

also am happy to report that NFM’s Chairman, Rose Blumkin (the

legendary “Mrs. B”), continues at age 92 to set a pace at the

store that none of us can keep up with. She’s there wheeling and

dealing seven days a week, and I hope that any of you who visit

Omaha will go out to the Mart and see her in action. It will

inspire you, as it does me.

At See’s we continue to get store volumes that are far

beyond those achieved by any competitor we know of. Despite the

unmatched consumer acceptance we enjoy, industry trends are not

good, and we continue to experience slippage in poundage sales on

a same-store basis. This puts pressure on per-pound costs. We

now are willing to increase prices only modestly and, unless we

can stabilize per-shop poundage, profit margins will narrow.

At the News volume gains are also difficult to achieve.

Though linage increased during 1985, the gain was more than

accounted for by preprints. ROP linage (advertising printed on

our own pages) declined. Preprints are far less profitable than

ROP ads, and also more vulnerable to competition. In 1985, the

News again controlled costs well and our household penetration

continues to be exceptional.

One problem these three operations do not have is

management. At See’s we have Chuck Huggins, the man we put in

charge the day we bought the business. Selecting him remains one

of our best business decisions. At the News we have Stan Lipsey,

a manager of equal caliber. Stan has been with us 17 years, and

his unusual business talents have become more evident with every

additional level of responsibility he has tackled. And, at the

Mart, we have the amazing Blumkins - Mrs. B, Louie, Ron, Irv, and

Steve - a three-generation miracle of management.

I consider myself extraordinarily lucky to be able to work

with managers such as these. I like them personally as much as I

admire them professionally.

Insurance Operations

Shown below is an updated version of our usual table,

listing two key figures for the insurance industry:

Yearly Change Combined Ratio

in Premiums after Policyholder

Written (%) Dividends


1972 …………… 10.2 96.2

1973 …………… 8.0 99.2

1974 …………… 6.2 105.4

1975 …………… 11.0 107.9

1976 …………… 21.9 102.4

1977 …………… 19.8 97.2

1978 …………… 12.8 97.5

1979 …………… 10.3 100.6

1980 …………… 6.0 103.1

1981 …………… 3.9 106.0

1982 …………… 4.4 109.7

1983 …………… 4.5 111.9

1984 (Revised) ….. 9.2 117.9

1985 (Estimated) … 20.9 118.0

Source: Best’s Aggregates and Averages

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.

The industry’s 1985 results were highly unusual. The

revenue gain was exceptional, and had insured losses grown at

their normal rate of most recent years - that is, a few points

above the inflation rate - a significant drop in the combined

ratio would have occurred. But losses in 1985 didn’t cooperate,

as they did not in 1984. Though inflation slowed considerably in

these years, insured losses perversely accelerated, growing by

16% in 1984 and by an even more startling 17% in 1985. The

year’s growth in losses therefore exceeds the inflation rate by

over 13 percentage points, a modern record.

Catastrophes were not the culprit in this explosion of loss

cost. True, there were an unusual number of hurricanes in 1985,

but the aggregate damage caused by all catastrophes in 1984 and

1985 was about 2% of premium volume, a not unusual proportion.

Nor was there any burst in the number of insured autos, houses,

employers, or other kinds of “exposure units”.

A partial explanation for the surge in the loss figures is

all the additions to reserves that the industry made in 1985. As

results for the year were reported, the scene resembled a revival

meeting: shouting “I’ve sinned, I’ve sinned”, insurance managers

rushed forward to confess they had under reserved in earlier

years. Their corrections significantly affected 1985 loss

numbers.

A more disturbing ingredient in the loss surge is the

acceleration in “social” or “judicial” inflation. The insurer’s

ability to pay has assumed overwhelming importance with juries

and judges in the assessment of both liability and damages. More

and more, “the deep pocket” is being sought and found, no matter

what the policy wording, the facts, or the precedents.

This judicial inflation represents a wild card in the

industry’s future, and makes forecasting difficult.

Nevertheless, the short-term outlook is good. Premium growth

improved as 1985 went along (quarterly gains were an estimated

15%, 19%, 24%, and 22%) and, barring a supercatastrophe, the

industry’s combined ratio should fall sharply in 1986.

The profit improvement, however, is likely to be of short

duration. Two economic principles will see to that. First,

commodity businesses achieve good levels of profitability only

when prices are fixed in some manner or when capacity is short.

Second, managers quickly add to capacity when prospects start to

improve and capital is available.

In my 1982 report to you, I discussed the commodity nature

of the insurance industry extensively. The typical policyholder

does not differentiate between products but concentrates instead

on price. For many decades a cartel-like procedure kept prices

up, but this arrangement has disappeared for good. The insurance

product now is priced as any other commodity for which a free

market exists: when capacity is tight, prices will be set

remuneratively; otherwise, they will not be.

Capacity currently is tight in many lines of insurance -

though in this industry, unlike most, capacity is an attitudinal

concept, not a physical fact. Insurance managers can write

whatever amount of business they feel comfortable writing,

subject only to pressures applied by regulators and Best’s, the

industry’s authoritative rating service. The comfort level of

both managers and regulators is tied to capital. More capital

means more comfort, which in turn means more capacity. In the

typical commodity business, furthermore, such as aluminum or

steel, a long gestation precedes the birth of additional

capacity. In the insurance industry, capital can be secured

instantly. Thus, any capacity shortage can be eliminated in

short order.

That’s exactly what’s going on right now. In 1985, about 15

insurers raised well over $3 billion, piling up capital so that

they can write all the business possible at the better prices now

available. The capital-raising trend has accelerated

dramatically so far in 1986.

If capacity additions continue at this rate, it won’t be

long before serious price-cutting appears and next a fall in

profitability. When the fall comes, it will be the fault of the

capital-raisers of 1985 and 1986, not the price-cutters of 198X.

(Critics should be understanding, however: as was the case in our

textile example, the dynamics of capitalism cause each insurer to

make decisions that for itself appear sensible, but that

collectively slash profitability.)

In past reports, I have told you that Berkshire’s strong

capital position - the best in the industry - should one day

allow us to claim a distinct competitive advantage in the

insurance market. With the tightening of the market, that day

arrived. Our premium volume more than tripled last year,

following a long period of stagnation. Berkshire’s financial

strength (and our record of maintaining unusual strength through

thick and thin) is now a major asset for us in securing good

business.

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.

To understand this point, you need a few background facts

about large risks. Traditionally, many insurers have wanted to

write this kind of business. However, their willingness to do so

has been almost always based upon reinsurance arrangements that

allow the insurer to keep just a small portion of the risk itself

while passing on (“laying off”) most of the risk to its

reinsurers. Imagine, for example, a directors and officers

(“D & O”) liability policy providing $25 million of coverage.

By various “excess-of-loss” reinsurance contracts, the company

issuing that policy might keep the liability for only the first

$1 million of any loss that occurs. The liability for any loss

above that amount up to $24 million would be borne by the

reinsurers of the issuing insurer. In trade parlance, a company

that issues large policies but retains relatively little of the

risk for its own account writes a large gross line but a small

net line.

In any reinsurance arrangement, a key question is how the

premiums paid for the policy should be divided among the various

“layers” of risk. In our D & O policy, for example. what part of

the premium received should be kept by the issuing company to

compensate it fairly for taking the first $1 million of risk and

how much should be passed on to the reinsurers to compensate them

fairly for taking the risk between $1 million and $25 million?

One way to solve this problem might be deemed the Patrick

Henry approach: “I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided,

and that is the lamp of experience.” In other words, how much of

the total premium would reinsurers have needed in the past to

compensate them fairly for the losses they actually had to bear?

Unfortunately, the lamp of experience has always provided

imperfect illumination for reinsurers because so much of their

business is “long-tail”, meaning it takes many years before they

know what their losses are. Lately, however, the light has not

only been dim but also grossly misleading in the images it has

revealed. That is, the courts’ tendency to grant awards that are

both huge and lacking in precedent makes reinsurers’ usual

extrapolations or inferences from past data a formula for

disaster. Out with Patrick Henry and in with Pogo: “The future

ain’t what it used to be.”

The burgeoning uncertainties of the business, coupled with

the entry into reinsurance of many unsophisticated participants,

worked in recent years in favor of issuing companies writing a

small net line: they were able to keep a far greater percentage

of the premiums than the risk. By doing so, the issuing

companies sometimes made money on business that was distinctly

unprofitable for the issuing and reinsuring companies combined.

(This result was not necessarily by intent: issuing companies

generally knew no more than reinsurers did about the ultimate

costs that would be experienced at higher layers of risk.)

Inequities of this sort have been particularly pronounced in

lines of insurance in which much change was occurring and losses

were soaring; e.g., professional malpractice, D & 0, products

liability, etc. Given these circumstances, it is not surprising

that issuing companies remained enthusiastic about writing

business long after premiums became woefully inadequate on a

gross basis.

An example of just how disparate results have been for

issuing companies versus their reinsurers is provided by the 1984

financials of one of the leaders in large and unusual risks. In

that year the company wrote about $6 billion of business and kept

around $2 1/2 billion of the premiums, or about 40%. It gave the

remaining $3 1/2 billion to reinsurers. On the part of the

business kept, the company’s underwriting loss was less than $200

million - an excellent result in that year. Meanwhile, the part

laid off produced a loss of over $1.5 billion for the reinsurers.

Thus, the issuing company wrote at a combined ratio of well under

110 while its reinsurers, participating in precisely the same

policies, came in considerably over 140. This result was not

attributable to natural catastrophes; it came from run-of-the-

mill insurance losses (occurring, however, in surprising

frequency and size). The issuing company’s 1985 report is not

yet available, but I would predict it will show that dramatically

unbalanced results continued.

A few years such as this, and even slow-witted reinsurers

can lose interest, particularly in explosive lines where the

proper split in premium between issuer and reinsurer remains

impossible to even roughly estimate. The behavior of reinsurers

finally becomes like that of Mark Twain’s cat: having once sat on

a hot stove, it never did so again - but it never again sat on a

cold stove, either. Reinsurers have had so many unpleasant

surprises in long-tail casualty lines that many have decided

(probably correctly) to give up the game entirely, regardless of

price inducements. Consequently, there has been a dramatic pull-

back of reinsurance capacity in certain important lines.

This development has left many issuing companies under

pressure. They can no longer commit their reinsurers, time after

time, for tens of millions per policy as they so easily could do

only a year or two ago, and they do not have the capital and/or

appetite to take on large risks for their own account. For many

issuing companies, gross capacity has shrunk much closer to net

capacity - and that is often small, indeed.

At Berkshire we have never played the lay-it-off-at-a-profit

game and, until recently, that put us at a severe disadvantage in

certain lines. Now the tables are turned: we have the

underwriting capability whereas others do not. If we believe the

price to be right, we are willing to write a net line larger than

that of any but the largest insurers. For instance, we are

perfectly willing to risk losing $10 million of our own money on

a single event, as long as we believe that the price is right and

that the risk of loss is not significantly correlated with other

risks we are insuring. Very few insurers are willing to risk

half that much on single events - although, just a short while

ago, many were willing to lose five or ten times that amount as

long as virtually all of the loss was for the account of their

reinsurers.

In mid-1985 our largest insurance company, National

Indemnity Company, broadcast its willingness to underwrite large

risks by running an ad in three issues of an insurance weekly.

The ad solicited policies of only large size: those with a

minimum premium of $1 million. This ad drew a remarkable 600

replies and ultimately produced premiums totaling about $50

million. (Hold the applause: it’s all long-tail business and it

will be at least five years before we know whether this marketing

success was also an underwriting success.) Today, our insurance

subsidiaries continue to be sought out by brokers searching for

large net capacity.

As I have said, this period of tightness will pass; insurers

and reinsurers will return to underpricing. But for a year or

two we should do well in several segments of our insurance

business. Mike Goldberg has made many important improvements in

the operation (prior mismanagement by your Chairman having

provided him ample opportunity to do so). He has been

particularly successful recently in hiring young managers with

excellent potential. They will have a chance to show their stuff

in 1986.

Our combined ratio has improved - from 134 in 1984 to 111 in

1985 - but continues to reflect past misdeeds. Last year I told

you of the major mistakes I had made in loss-reserving, and

promised I would update you annually on loss-development figures.

Naturally, I made this promise thinking my future record would be

much improved. So far this has not been the case. Details on

last year’s loss development are on pages 50-52. They reveal

significant underreserving at the end of 1984, as they did in the

several years preceding.

The only bright spot in this picture is that virtually all

of the underreserving revealed in 1984 occurred in the

reinsurance area - and there, in very large part, in a few

contracts that were discontinued several years ago. This

explanation, however, recalls all too well a story told me many

years ago by the then Chairman of General Reinsurance Company.

He said that every year his managers told him that “except for

the Florida hurricane” or “except for Midwestern tornadoes”, they

would have had a terrific year. Finally he called the group

together and suggested that they form a new operation - the

Except-For Insurance Company - in which they would henceforth

place all of the business that they later wouldn’t want to count.

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.

GEICO, 38%-owned by Berkshire, reported an excellent year in

1985 in premium growth and investment results, but a poor year -

by its lofty standards - in underwriting. Private passenger auto

and homeowners insurance were the only important lines in the

industry whose results deteriorated significantly during the

year. GEICO did not escape the trend, although its record was

far better than that of virtually all its major competitors.

Jack Byrne left GEICO at mid-year to head Fireman’s Fund,

leaving behind Bill Snyder as Chairman and Lou Simpson as Vice

Chairman. Jack’s performance in reviving GEICO from near-

bankruptcy was truly extraordinary, and his work resulted in

enormous gains for Berkshire. We owe him a great deal for that.

We are equally indebted to Jack for an achievement that

eludes most outstanding leaders: he found managers to succeed him

who have talents as valuable as his own. By his skill in

identifying, attracting and developing Bill and Lou, Jack

extended the benefits of his managerial stewardship well beyond

his tenure.

Fireman’s Fund Quota-Share Contract

Never one to let go of a meal ticket, we have followed Jack

Byrne to Fireman’s Fund (“FFIC”) where he is Chairman and CEO of

the holding company.

On September 1, 1985 we became a 7% participant in all of

the business in force of the FFIC group, with the exception of

reinsurance they write for unaffiliated companies. Our contract

runs for four years, and provides that our losses and costs will

be proportionate to theirs throughout the contract period. If

there is no extension, we will thereafter have no participation

in any ongoing business. However, for a great many years in the

future, we will be reimbursing FFIC for our 7% of the losses that

occurred in the September 1, 1985 - August 31, 1989 period.

Under the contract FFIC remits premiums to us promptly and

we reimburse FFIC promptly for expenses and losses it has paid.

Thus, funds generated by our share of the business are held by us

for investment. As part of the deal, I’m available to FFIC for

consultation about general investment strategy. I’m not

involved, however, in specific investment decisions of FFIC, nor

is Berkshire involved in any aspect of the company’s underwriting

activities.

Currently FFIC is doing about $3 billion of business, and it

will probably do more as rates rise. The company’s September 1,

1985 unearned premium reserve was $1.324 billion, and it

therefore transferred 7% of this, or $92.7 million, to us at

initiation of the contract. We concurrently paid them $29.4

million representing the underwriting expenses that they had

incurred on the transferred premium. All of the FFIC business is

written by National Indemnity Company, but two-sevenths of it is

passed along to Wesco-Financial Insurance Company (“Wes-FIC”), a

new company organized by our 80%-owned subsidiary, Wesco

Financial Corporation. Charlie Munger has some interesting

comments about Wes-FIC and the reinsurance business on pages 60-

62.

To the Insurance Segment tables on page 41, we have added a

new line, labeled Major Quota Share Contracts. The 1985 results

of the FFIC contract are reported there, though the newness of

the arrangement makes these results only very rough

approximations.

After the end of the year, we secured another quota-share

contract, whose 1986 volume should be over $50 million. We hope

to develop more of this business, and industry conditions suggest

that we could: a significant number of companies are generating

more business than they themselves can prudently handle. Our

financial strength makes us an attractive partner for such

companies.

Marketable Securities

We show below our 1985 yearend net holdings in marketable

equities. All positions with a market value over $25 million are

listed, and the interests attributable to minority shareholders

of Wesco and Nebraska Furniture Mart are excluded.

No. of Shares Cost Market


(000s omitted)

1,036,461 Affiliated Publications, Inc. ……. $ 3,516 $ 55,710

900,800 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc. 54,435 108,997

2,350,922 Beatrice Companies, Inc. ………… 106,811 108,142

6,850,000 GEICO Corporation ………………. 45,713 595,950

2,379,200 Handy & Harman …………………. 27,318 43,718

847,788 Time, Inc. …………………….. 20,385 52,669

1,727,765 The Washington Post Company ……… 9,731 205,172


267,909 1,170,358

All Other Common Stockholdings …… 7,201 27,963


Total Common Stocks $275,110 $1,198,321

========== ==========

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 example.

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. Our advantage, rather, was attitude: we had learned from

Ben Graham that the key to successful investing was the purchase

of shares in good businesses when market prices were at a large

discount from underlying business values.

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. (We are enormously

indebted to those academics: what could be more advantageous in

an intellectual contest - whether it be bridge, chess, or stock

selection than to have opponents who have been taught that

thinking is a waste of energy?)

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.

We hold all of the WPC shares we bought in 1973, except for

those sold back to the company in 1985’s proportionate

redemption. Proceeds from the redemption plus yearend market

value of our holdings total $221 million.

If we had invested our $10.6 million in any of a half-dozen

media companies that were investment favorites in mid-1973, the

value of our holdings at yearend would have been in the area of

$40 - $60 million. Our gain would have far exceeded the gain in

the general market, an outcome reflecting the exceptional

economics of the media business. The extra $160 million or so we

gained through ownership of WPC came, in very large part, from

the superior nature of the managerial decisions made by Kay as

compared to those made by managers of most media companies. Her

stunning business success has in large part gone unreported but

among Berkshire shareholders it should not go unappreciated.

Our Capital Cities purchase, described in the next section,

required me to leave the WPC Board early in 1986. But we intend

to hold indefinitely whatever WPC stock FCC rules allow us to.

We expect WPC’s business values to grow at a reasonable rate, and

we know that management is both able and shareholder-oriented.

However, the market now values the company at over $1.8 billion,

and there is no way that the value can progress from that level

at a rate anywhere close to the rate possible when the company’s

valuation was only $100 million. Because market prices have also

been bid up for our other holdings, we face the same vastly-

reduced potential throughout our portfolio.

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.

At yearend our insurance subsidiaries had about $400 million

in tax-exempt bonds, of which $194 million at amortized cost were

issues of Washington Public Power Supply System (“WPPSS”)

Projects 1, 2, and 3. 1 discussed this position fully last year,

and explained why we would not disclose further purchases or

sales until well after the fact (adhering to the policy we follow

on stocks). Our unrealized gain on the WPPSS bonds at yearend

was $62 million, perhaps one-third arising from the upward

movement of bonds generally, and the remainder from a more

positive investor view toward WPPSS 1, 2, and 3s. Annual tax-

exempt income from our WPPSS issues is about $30 million.

Capital Cities/ABC, Inc.

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. I’ve been on record for many years about

the management of Cap Cities: I think it is the best of any

publicly-owned company in the country. And Tom Murphy and Dan

Burke are not only great managers, they are precisely the sort of

fellows that you would want your daughter to marry. It is a

privilege to be associated with them - and also a lot of fun, as

any of you who know them will understand.

Our purchase of stock helped Cap Cities finance the $3.5

billion acquisition of American Broadcasting Companies. For Cap

Cities, ABC is a major undertaking whose economics are likely to

be unexciting over the next few years. This bothers us not an

iota; we can be very patient. (No matter how great the talent or

effort, some things just take time: you can’t produce a baby in

one month by getting nine women pregnant.)

As evidence of our confidence, we have executed an unusual

agreement: for an extended period Tom, as CEO (or Dan, should he

be CEO) votes our stock. This arrangement was initiated by

Charlie and me, not by Tom. We also have restricted ourselves in

various ways regarding sale of our shares. The object of these

restrictions is to make sure that our block does not get sold to

anyone who is a large holder (or intends to become a large

holder) without the approval of management, an arrangement

similar to ones we initiated some years ago at GEICO and

Washington Post.

Since large blocks frequently command premium prices, some

might think we have injured Berkshire financially by creating

such restrictions. Our view is just the opposite. We feel the

long-term economic prospects for these businesses - and, thus,

for ourselves as owners - are enhanced by the arrangements. With

them in place, the first-class managers with whom we have aligned

ourselves can focus their efforts entirely upon running the

businesses and maximizing long-term values for owners. Certainly

this is much better than having those managers distracted by

“revolving-door capitalists” hoping to put the company “in play”.

(Of course, some managers place their own interests above those

of the company and its owners and deserve to be shaken up - but,

in making investments, we try to steer clear of this type.)

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.

The human side is just as important. We don’t want managers

we like and admire - and who have welcomed a major financial

commitment by us - to ever lose any sleep wondering whether

surprises might occur because of our large ownership. I have

told them there will be no surprises, and these agreements put

Berkshire’s signature where my mouth is. That signature also

means the managers have a corporate commitment and therefore need

not worry if my personal participation in Berkshire’s affairs

ends prematurely (a term I define as any age short of three

digits).

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. However, our Cap Cities investment allies us

with an exceptional combination of properties and people - and we

like the opportunity to participate in size.

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. Anticipating your

question, I spent much of 1985 working on a snappy answer that

would reconcile these acts.

A little more time, please.

Acquisition of Scott & Fetzer

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. Some

well-known products are Kirby home-care systems, Campbell

Hausfeld air compressors, and Wayne burners and water pumps.

World Book, Inc. - accounting for about 40% of Scott

Fetzer’s sales and a bit more of its income - is by far the

company’s largest operation. It also is by far the leader in its

industry, selling more than twice as many encyclopedia sets

annually as its nearest competitor. In fact, it sells more sets

in the U.S. than its four biggest competitors combined.

Charlie and I have a particular interest in the World Book

operation because we regard its encyclopedia as something

special. I’ve been a fan (and user) for 25 years, and now have

grandchildren consulting the sets just as my children did. World

Book is regularly rated the most useful encyclopedia by teachers,

librarians and consumer buying guides. Yet it sells for less

than any of its major competitors. Childcraft, another World

Book, Inc. product, offers similar value. This combination of

exceptional products and modest prices at World Book, Inc. helped

make us willing to pay the price demanded for Scott Fetzer,

despite declining results for many companies in the direct-

selling industry.

An equal attraction at Scott Fetzer is Ralph Schey, its CEO

for nine years. When Ralph took charge, the company had 31

businesses, the result of an acquisition spree in the 1960s. He

disposed of many that did not fit or had limited profit

potential, but his focus on rationalizing the original potpourri

was not so intense that he passed by World Book when it became

available for purchase in 1978. Ralph’s operating and capital-

allocation record is superb, and we are delighted to be

associated with him.

The history of the Scott Fetzer acquisition is interesting,

marked by some zigs and zags before we became involved. The

company had been an announced candidate for purchase since early

  1. A major investment banking firm spent many months

canvassing scores of prospects, evoking interest from several.

Finally, in mid-1985 a plan of sale, featuring heavy

participation by an ESOP (Employee Stock Ownership Plan), was

approved by shareholders. However, as difficulty in closing

followed, the plan was scuttled.

I had followed this corporate odyssey through the

newspapers. On October 10, well after the ESOP deal had fallen

through, I wrote a short letter to Ralph, whom I did not know. I

said we admired the company’s record and asked if he might like

to talk. Charlie and I met Ralph for dinner in Chicago on

October 22 and signed an acquisition contract the following week.

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.

Miscellaneous

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.

To give fate a helping hand, we again repeat our regular

“business wanted” ad. The only change from last year’s copy is

in (1): because we continue to want any acquisition we make to

have a measurable impact on Berkshire’s financial results, we

have raised our minimum profit requirement.

Here’s what we’re looking for:

(1) large purchases (at least $10 million of after-tax

earnings),

(2) demonstrated consistent earning power (future

projections are of little interest to us, nor are

“turn-around” situations),

(3) businesses earning good returns on equity while

employing little or no debt,

(4) management in place (we can’t supply it),

(5) simple businesses (if there’s lots of technology, we

won’t understand it),

(6) an offering price (we don’t want to waste our time

or that of the seller by talking, even preliminarily,

about a transaction when price is unknown).

We will not engage in unfriendly takeovers. We can promise

complete confidentiality and a very fast answer - customarily

within five minutes - as to whether we’re interested. We prefer

to buy for cash, but will consider issuance of stock when we

receive as much in intrinsic business value as we give. Indeed,

following recent advances in the price of Berkshire stock,

transactions involving stock issuance may be quite feasible. We

invite potential sellers to check us out by contacting people

with whom we have done business in the past. For the right

business - and the right people - we can provide a good home.

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.


Besides being interested in the purchases of entire

businesses as described above, 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. We prefer large transactions: in the unusual case

we might do something as small as $50 million (or even smaller),

but our preference is for commitments many times that size.


About 96.8% of all eligible shares participated in

Berkshire’s 1985 shareholder-designated contributions program.

Total contributions made through the program were $4 million, and

1,724 charities were recipients. We conducted a plebiscite last

year in order to get your views about this program, as well as

about our dividend policy. (Recognizing that it’s possible to

influence the answers to a question by the framing of it, we

attempted to make the wording of ours as neutral as possible.) We

present the ballot and the results in the Appendix on page 69. I

think it’s fair to summarize your response as highly supportive

of present policies and your group preference - allowing for the

tendency of people to vote for the status quo - to be for

increasing the annual charitable commitment as our asset values

build.

We urge new shareholders to read the description of our

shareholder-designated contributions program that appears on

pages 66 and 67. If you wish to participate in future programs,

we strongly urge that you immediately make sure that your shares

are registered in the name of the actual owner, not in “street”

name or nominee name. Shares not so registered on September 30,

1986 will be ineligible for the 1986 program.


Five years ago we were required by the Bank Holding Company

Act of 1969 to dispose of our holdings in The Illinois National

Bank and Trust Company of Rockford, Illinois. Our method of

doing so was unusual: we announced an exchange ratio between

stock of Rockford Bancorp Inc. (the Illinois National’s holding

company) and stock of Berkshire, and then let each of our

shareholders - except me - make the decision as to whether to

exchange all, part, or none of his Berkshire shares for Rockford

shares. I took the Rockford stock that was left over and thus my

own holding in Rockford was determined by your decisions. At the

time I said, “This technique embodies the world’s oldest and most

elementary system of fairly dividing an object. Just as when you

were a child and one person cut the cake and the other got first

choice, I have tried to cut the company fairly, but you get first

choice as to which piece you want.”

Last fall Illinois National was sold. When Rockford’s

liquidation is completed, its shareholders will have received

per-share proceeds about equal to Berkshire’s per-share intrinsic

value at the time of the bank’s sale. I’m pleased that this

five-year result indicates that the division of the cake was

reasonably equitable.

Last year I put in a plug for our annual meeting, and you

took me up on the invitation. Over 250 of our more than 3,000

registered shareholders showed up. Those attending behaved just

as those present in previous years, asking the sort of questions

you would expect from intelligent and interested owners. You can

attend a great many annual meetings without running into a crowd

like ours. (Lester Maddox, when Governor of Georgia, was

criticized regarding the state’s abysmal prison system. “The

solution”, he said, “is simple. All we need is a better class of

prisoners.” Upgrading annual meetings works the same way.)

I hope you come to this year’s meeting, which will be held

on May 20 in Omaha. There will be only one change: after 48

years of allegiance to another soft drink, your Chairman, in an

unprecedented display of behavioral flexibility, has converted to

the new Cherry Coke. Henceforth, it will be the Official Drink

of the Berkshire Hathaway Annual Meeting.

And bring money: Mrs. B promises to have bargains galore if

you will pay her a visit at The Nebraska Furniture Mart after the

meeting.

Warren E. Buffett

Chairman of the Board

March 4, 1986


Source

Return Home