Do you think
you could spot a tax-deductible donation?
Let’s begin
by acknowledging that the qualifier “tax-deductible” kicks it up a notch. Give
$300 to the church on Christmas Eve service and you have made a donation. Fail
to get a letter from the church acknowledging that you donated $300, receiving in
return only intangible benefits, and you probably forfeited the tax
deductibility.
Let’s set it
up:
(1) There was a related group of companies
developing a master-planned community in Lehi, Utah.
(2) There were issues with density. The company had
rights to develop if it could receive approval from the city council.
(3) The city council said sure – but you have to
reduce the density.
a.
Rather
than reduce the number of units, the developer decided to donate land to the
city – 746.789 acres, to be exact.
I see couple
of ways to account for this additional land. One way is to add its cost to the other
costs of the development. With this accounting you have to wait until you sell the
units to get a deduction, as a slice of the land cost is allocated to each
unit.
That wasn’t
good enough for our taxpayer, who decided to account for the additional land by
…
(4) … taking a charitable donation of
$11,040,000.
What do you
think? Does this transaction rise to the level of a deductible contribution and
why or why not?
In general,
a contribution implies at least a minimal amount of altruism. If one receives value
equivalent to the “donation,” it is hard to argue that there is any altruism or
benevolence involved. That sounds more like a sale than a donation. Then there
is the gray zone: you donate $250 and in turn receive concert tickets worth
$60. In that case, one is supposed to show the contribution as $190 ($250 -
$60).
Sure enough,
the IRS fired back with the following:
(1) The transfer was part of a quid pro quo
arrangement to receive development approvals.
That seems a
formidable argument, but this is the IRS. We still have to bayonet the mortally
wounded and the dead.
(2) The transfer was not valid because [taxpayer]
did own the development credits (i.e., someone else in the related-party group
did).
(3) The contemporaneous written acknowledgement
was not valid.
(4) The appraisal was not a qualified appraisal.
(5) The value was overstated.
Yep, that is
the IRS we know. Moderation is for amateurs.
A quid pro
quo reduces a charitable deduction. Quid too far and you can doom a charitable
deduction. Judicial precedence in this area has the Court reviewing the form
and objective features of the transaction. One can argue noble heart and best
intentions, but the Court was not going to spend a lot of time with the
subjectivity of the deal.
The taxpayer
was loaded for bear: the written agreement with the city did not mention that
taxpayer received anything in return. To be doubly careful, it also stated that
– if there was something in return – it was so inconsequential as to be
immeasurable.
Mike drop.
The IRS
pointed out that – while the above was true – there was more to the story. The
taxpayer wanted more than anything to have the development plan approved so
they could improve the quality of life make a lot of money. The city
council wanted a new plan before approving anything, and that plan required the
taxpayer to increase green space and reduce density.
Taxpayer
donated the land. City council approved the project.
Nothing to
see here, argued the taxpayer.
The Court
refused to be blinkered by looking at only the written agreement. When it
looked around, the Court decided the deal looked, waddled and quacked like a
quid pro quo.
The taxpayer
had a back-up argument:
If there was
a quid pro quo, the quid was so infinitesimal, so inconsequential, so Ant-Man small
as to not offset the donation, or at least the lion’s share of the donation.
I get it. I
would make exactly the same argument if I were representing the taxpayer.
The taxpayer
trotted out the McGrady decision. The facts are a bit peculiar, as
someone owned a residence, a developer owned adjoining land and a township was resolute
in preserving the greenspace. To get the deal to work, that someone donated both
an easement and land and then bought back an odd-shaped parcel of land to
surround and shield their residence. The Court respected the donation.
Not the
same, thundered the Tax Court. McGrady had no influence over his/her deal,
whereas taxpayer had a ton of influence over this one. In addition, just about
every conservation easement has some incidental benefit, even if the benefit is
only not having a crush of people on top of you.
The quid quo
pro was not incidental. It was the key to obtaining the city council’s approval.
It could not have been more consequential.
And it was
enough to blow up a $11,040,000 donation.
Whereas not
in the decision, I can anticipate what the tax advisors will do next:
capitalize the land into the development costs and then deduct the same parcel-by-parcel. Does this put the taxpayer back where it would have been anyway?
No, it does not. Why? Because the contribution would have been at the land's fair market value. Development accounting keeps the land at its cost. To the extent the land had appreciated, the contribution would have been more valuable than development accounting.
No, it does not. Why? Because the contribution would have been at the land's fair market value. Development accounting keeps the land at its cost. To the extent the land had appreciated, the contribution would have been more valuable than development accounting.
Our case for
the home gamers was Triumph Mixed Use
Investments II LLC, Fox Ridge Investments, LLC, Tax Matters Partner v
Commissioner, T.C. Memo 2018-65.
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