A bear market and the collapse of Enron Corp. have given regulators an added
push to clean up creative accounting in corporate earnings. How bad did things
get? So bad the profit boom of the late '90s may well have been a mirage. Today,
the Financial Post begins a week-long report on how we got into this mess and
how to fix it.
It's not just the crooks at Enron Corp. that have been misleading their investors by
dressing up earnings statements with mojo accounting; it's an epidemic.
More and more companies have been pulling essential costs of doing business out
of their earnings numbers and burying them under various "extraordinary"
categories in their reports. Presto, the result is a new bottom line with improved
profits and a record of investor-friendly growth that lends support to the firm's
stock.
The Enron link shouldn't be overplayed since its rogue managers used earnings tricks to disguise an outright fraud while most
practitioners of so-called "pro forma" reporting have been engaged in the perfectly legal practice of earnings management. But while the
practice may be legal and there may not be a deliberate attempt to deceive investors, the sad truth is that earnings just aren't what they
used to be.
"For the average shareholder, [pro forma] numbers can represent a welter of confusing and potentially conflicting signals about how their
investments are performing," offers Robert Reid, the head of Independent Equity Research in Toronto.
That's a balanced view from a veteran stock analyst. Investors who have had their pockets picked during the tech bubble are likely to be
less polite. Recent estimates have pegged the combined losses of the top 100 Nasdaq firms in the first three quarters of last year at
US$82-billion. This while the same firms reported profit of US$20-billion. Now that's earnings abuse.
Charles Ponzi would have undoubtedly have approved," Bill Gross, managing director of Pacific Investment Management Co. (PIMCO),
the biggest bond player in the world, quipped wryly to clients last week.
We didn't need Enron's spectacular US$60-billion flameout in Houston to learn we had a problem; the issue was already shaping up as a
regulatory priority. Enron simply turned up the heat so we can get things cleaned up faster.
In a week-long Earnings Abuse series starting today, the Financial Post reports on how we got into this mess and what needs to be done
to clean it up. At the centre of the report -- today through Friday -- investing writer Steve Maich delves into the filings of four of Canada's
leading blue chips. We picked the firms not because they are the most flagrant earnings abusers but because each allows us to draw
attention to a different kind practice that has left investors with either a misleading or incomplete picture of performance. We also picked
them because each is a stock that most Canadian investors are likely to hold.
...
So how did we get into this mess? There is always a period of reckoning in a bear market, as participants wrestle with the questions of
what went wrong during the previous bull and who's to blame.
When any bull market tide retreats, it tends to leave a lot of garbage on the beach and the trumped-up earnings report looks to be the one
thing market beachcombers are picking over most.
Firms have always had a measure of core or operating earnings they could report, which may often differ dramatically from their
net-income bottom line. The biggies include discontinued operations and genuine extraordinary writedowns, including acquisitions and the
sale of real estate.
Those are defined by Canadian and U.S. generally accepted accounting principles (GAAP). But GAAP has an elastic definition of
operating earnings and, as a result, firms have been customizing their own reports for years.
In the late 1990s, things got out of control. Firms found ways to inflate revenue, booking swapped ads as real sales or recording an online
purchase as a full sale even if the online firm is only entitled to a small transaction fee.
On the profit side, earnings were boosted by investment gains and grossly distorted when firms capitalized on big tax savings on stock
options, but then didn't account for the cost of options compensation in their pro-forma earnings.
Looking back, the whole profit boom of the '90s looks as though it might have been a mirage, mourns Robert Barbera, chief economist at
the brokerage Hoenig & Co. He estimated recently most of the 26% growth in operating earnings for firms on the Standard & Poor's 500
composite index between 1997 and 2000 was directly due to accounting hocus pocus.
"I don't believe that the earnings growth in the late 1990s was there."
Somewhere along the way, the art of earnings reporting changed from earnings per share (EPS) to everything before bad stuff (EBBS).
Now we're coming full circle and investors want to see real earnings again -- or else.