Honest Attorneys Go Farr

I had forgotten about the conversation.

About a couple of years ago I received a call from a nonclient concerning tax issues for his charity. I normally try to help, at least with general tax issues. I rarely, if ever, help with specific tax advice. That advice is tailored to a given person or situation and should occur in a professional – and compensated – relationship.

Some accountants will not even take the call. I get their point. Tax season, for example, is notorious for nonclient phone calls saying “I just have a quick question.” Sure. Get a Masters degree, practice for 30 years and you will have your answer, Grasshopper.

This phone-call fellow was thinking about drawing payroll from a charity he had founded. It had to do with housing, and he was thinking of contributing additional rental properties he owned personally. However, those rentals provided him some sweet cash flow, and he was looking at ways to retain some of that flow once the properties were in the charity.

Got it. A little benevolence. A little self-interest. Happens all the time.

What about drawing management fees for … you know, managing the properties for the charity.

Someone has to. A charity cannot do so itself because, well, it doesn’t have a body.

Now the hard facts: the charity did not have an independent Board or compensation committee. He was reluctant to form one, as he might not be able to control the outcome. There was no pretense of a comparative compensation or fee study. He arrived at his number because he needed X-amount of money to live on.

Cue the sounds of warning sirens going off.

This is not a likely client for me. I have no problem being aggressive – in fact, I may be more aggressive than the client - but we must agree to play within the lines. Play fudge and smudge and you can find another advisor. We are not making a mutual suicide pact here.

Let’s talk about “excess benefits” and nonprofits.

The concept is simple: the assets of a nonprofit must be used to advance the charitable mission and not for the benefit of organization insiders. If the IRS catches you doing this, there is a 25% penalty. Technically the IRS calls it an “excise tax,” but we know a penalty when we see one. Fail to correct the problem in a timely fashion and the penalty goes to 200%.

That is one of the harshest penalties in the Code.

Generally speaking, an excess benefit requires two things:

(1) Someone in a position to exercise substantial influence over the charity. The term is “disqualified,” and quickly expands to others related to, or companies owned by, such people.

(2) The charity transfers property (probably cash, of course) to a disqualified person without fair value in exchange.

The second one clearly reaches someone who is paid $250,000 for doing nothing but opening the mail, but it would also reach a below-market-interest-rate loan to a disqualified person.

And the second one can become ninja-level sneaky:

When the organization makes a payment to a disqualified for services, it must contemporaneously document its intent to treat such payment as consideration for services. The easiest way to do that is by an employment contract with the issuance of a Form W-2, but there can be other ways.

Fail to do that and it is almost certain that you have an excess benefit, even if the disqualified person is truly working there and even if the payment is reasonable. Think of it as “per se”: it just is.

Yet it happens all the time. How do people get around that “automatic” problem?

There is a safe-harbor in the Code.

(1) An independent Board approves the payment in advance.

(2) Prior to approval, the Board does comparative analysis and finds the amount reasonable, based on independent data.

(3) All the while the Board must document its decision-making process. It could hire an English or History graduate to write everything down, I suppose.

Follow the rules and you can hire a disqualified.

Don’t follow the rules and you are poking the bear. 

I thought my caller did not have a prayer.

Would I look into it, he asked.

Cheeky, I thought.

As I said, I forgot about the call, the caller and the “would I look into it.”

What made me think about this was a recent Tax Court decision. It involves someone who had previously organized the Association for Honest Attorneys (AHA). She had gotten it 501(c)(3) status and continued on as chief executive officer.

From its 990 series I can tell AHA is quite small.

Here is a blip from their website:

However, our C.E.O. has 40+ years experience, education and observation of the legal system, holds a B.S. and M.S. Degree in Administration of Justice from Wichita State University, and has helped take ten cases to the United States Supreme Court.

I do not know what a Masters in Administration of Justice is about, but it sounds like she has chops. She should be able to figure out the ins-and-outs of penalties and excess benefits.

She used the charity’s money for the following from 2010 through 2012:

1. Dillards
2. Walmart
3. A&A Auto Salvage
4. Derby Quick Lube
5. Westar Energy
6. Lowes
7. T&S Tree Service
8. Gene’s Stump Grinding Service
9. an animal clinic
10. St John’s Military School (her son’s tuition)
11. The exhumation and DNA testing of her father’s remains

Alrighty then. 

The Tax Court went through the exercise: she used charity money for personal purposes; she never reported the money as income; there was no pretense of the safe harbor.

She was on the hook for both the 25% and 200% excise tax.

How did she expect to get away with this?

I suspect she was playing the audit lottery. If she was not caught then there was no foul, or so she reasoned. That is more latitude than I have. As a tax professional, I am not permitted to consider the audit lottery when deciding whether to take or not take a tax position.

The case is Farr v Commissioner, T.C. Memo 2018-2 for the home gamers.

Hockey Team Meals And Fairy Dust

Let’s say that you own a professional hockey team.

What is your biggest expense?

Your players, I would think.

You train them, coach them, house them, feed them, transport them.

Wait … did we say “feed them?”

Uh, yes. Here is an easy example: the team has an out-of-town game. I presume you are going to feed them while they are away from home and hearth.

We have walked into one of the tax Code’s nonsensicals.

Yes, I know: which one?

Are their on-the-road meals deductible?

Yes, but you may remember that only 50% of the meals and entertainment costs is deductible. The company has to eat the other 50%.

Why? Because of three-martini lunches and all that.

Fat cats. Write-offs. Loopholes. The Hallmark Channel.

Let’s say there is an uber-expensive – and secret - lunch in Georgetown between a media mouth and some cobbling bureaucrat. Why should you and I have to subsidize that behavior with a tax deduction?

But that is not your situation. You are feeding your players. Maybe you feed them because you want them present by a certain time, or you want your dietician to monitor their intake, or you want to minimize interruptions were they to go out for meals. Perhaps it gives everyone an opportunity to review game plans and prepare for media interviews.

But the tax Code lumps you in with those Georgetown pseudologists.

The Boston Bruins decided to push this issue. They deducted the full cost of their meals, not just 50%.

COMMENT: For the tax nerds, the issue before the Court was the “away” meals. The IRS was not concerned with “home” meals, for reasons we will not address here.

Two of their tax years – 2009 and 2010 – went to Court.

I had considered this is an uphill climb.

Code Section 274(n) waives the 50% axe.

(n)  Only 50 percent of meal and entertainment expenses allowed as deduction.

(1)  In general.

The amount allowable as a deduction under this chapter for-

(A)  any expense for food or beverages, and

(B)  any item with respect to an activity which is of a type generally considered to constitute entertainment, amusement, or recreation, or with respect to a facility used in connection with such activity,

shall not exceed 50 percent of the amount of such expense or item which would (but for this paragraph) be allowable as a deduction under this chapter.

But are there exceptions?

Yep.

For example, “de minimis” fringe benefits are not taxable to the employee.

Well, that is great for coffee and sodas at the office, but it seems that we are stretching the word too ….

Wait, a “employer-operated eating facility” can qualify as a de minimis fringe benefit.

Well, that is hay of a different barn. What does it take to be such a facility?

Here are two of several requirements:

(1) The facility has to cover its own direct costs on an annual basis.

(2)  The facility must be located on or near the employer’s business premises.

Hah, you say. There is no way that the Bruins can meet test one, as there is no “revenue” here. The whole thing is a “cost.”  

Would you believe me that there is a way – an obscure, head-scratching way – to string the tax Code together to spontaneously spark the required “revenue?”

There is and the Bruins made it. I will spare you the details.

On to test two.

Let’s say they are in Pittsburgh playing the Penguins.

Google tells me there is approximately 575 miles between Boston and Pittsburgh.

Seems a stretch that the Bruins are “on or near” their training facilities in Brighton, Massachusetts.

But have the Bruins rent-out a banquet room in a Pittsburgh hotel. Can one sprinkle fairy dust and argue that the rental transmogrifies the banquet room into Bruins “business premises” – at least for a while?

The Court really seemed to be in a favorable mood towards the Bruins. They emphasized the “function” of the banquet room rather than its actual location in space and time. Perhaps the banquet room identified as Bostonian.

We conclude that away city hotels were part of the Bruins’ business premises for the years in issue. In arriving at this conclusion we consider the traveling hockey employees’ performance of significant business duties at away city hotels along with the unique nature of the Bruins’ business (i.e., professional hockey).”

Having met that test, the Pittsburgh hotel in essence became “business premises” of the Bruins.

Bam! The Bruins have business premises in Pittsburgh.

The Court next considered whether the eating-facility-on-Bruins-business-premises-in-Pittsburgh qualified as a “de minimis” fringe benefit.

Well heck, I think the Court telegraphed its hand when it decided that a Pittsburgh hotel was “on or near” Brighton, Massachusetts.

To wrap this up, someone on the Court is a huge hockey fan and the Bruins got their 100% deduction.

I suspect that this type of meal expense is not what Congress was after with its Section 274(n) chop. It is nonsensical that the Code disallows a 50% deduction for employee meals when their job requires travel. This more resembles the histrionics of class envy than any rational tax argument.

However – and let’s be fair – that is what the tax Code says. 

Or said, more accurately.

All it takes is a court willing to sprinkle fairy dust.

An Extreme Way To Deduct Expenses Twice

The estate tax is different from the income tax.

The latter is assessed on your income. This puts stress in defining what is income from what is not, but such is the concept.

The estate tax on assessed on what you own when you die, which is why it is also referred to as the “death” tax. If you try to give away your assets to avoid the death tax, the gift tax will step in and probably put you back in the same spot.

Granted, a tax is a tax, meaning that someone is taking your money. To a great extent, the estate tax and income tax stay out of each other’s way.

With some exceptions.

And a recent case reminds us of unexpected outcomes when these two taxes intersect.

Let’s set it up.

You may recall that – upon death – one’s assets pass to one’s beneficiaries at fair market value (FMV). This is also called the “step up,” as the deceased’s cost or basis in the asset goes away and you (as beneficiary) can use FMV as your new “basis” in the asset. There are reasons for this:

(1) The deceased already paid tax on the income used to buy the asset in the first place.

(2) The deceased is paying tax again for having died with “too many” assets, with the government deciding the definition of “too many.” It wasn’t that long ago that the government thought $600,000 was too much. Think about that for a moment.

(3) To continue using the decedent’s back-in-time cost as the beneficiary’s basis is to repetitively tax the same money. To camouflage this by saying that income tax is different from estate tax is farcical: tax is tax.

I personally have one more reason:

(4) Sometimes cost information does not exist, as that knowledge went to the grave with the deceased. Decades go by; no one knows when or how the deceased acquired the asset; government and other records are not updated or transferred to new archive platforms which allow one to research. The politics of envy does not replace the fact that sometimes simply one cannot come up with this number.

Mr. Backemeyer was a farmer. In 2010 he purchased seed, chemicals, fertilizer and fuel and deducted them on his 2010 joint return.

COMMENT: Farmers have some unique tax goodies in the Code. For example, a farmer is allowed to deduct the above expenses, even if he/she buys them at the end of the year with the intent to use them the following year. This is a loosening of the “nonincidental supplies” rule, which generally holds up the tax deduction until one actually uses the supplies.

So Mr. Backemeyer deducted the above. They totaled approximately $235,000.

He died in March, 2011.

Let’s go to our estate tax rule:

His beneficiary (his wife) receives a new basis in the supplies. That basis is fair market value at Mr. Backemeyer’s date of death ($235,000).

What does that mean?

Mr. Backemeyer deducted his year-end farming supplies in 2010. In tax-speak,” his basis was zero (-0-), because he deducted the cost in 2010. Generally speaking, once you deduct something your basis in said something is zero.

Go on.

His basis in the farming supplies was zero. Her basis in the farming supplies was $235,000. Now witness the power of this fully armed and operational step-up.

Is that a Rogue One allusion?

No, it is Return of the Jedi. Shheeessh.

Anyway, with her new basis, Mrs. Backemeyer deducted the same $235,000 again on her 2011 income tax return.

No way. There has to be a rule.

          That is what the IRS thought.

There is a doctrine in the tax Code called “economic benefit.” What sets it up is that you deduct something – say your state taxes. In a later year, you get repaid some of the money that you deducted – say a tax refund. The IRS takes the position – understandably – that some of that refund is income. The amount of income is equal to a corresponding portion of the deduction from the previous year. You received an economic benefit by deducting, and now you have to repay that benefit.

It is a great argument, except for one thing. What happened in Backemeyer was not an income tax deduction bouncing back. No, what set it up was an estate tax bouncing back on an income tax return in a subsequent year.

COMMENT: She received a new basis pursuant to estate tax rules. While there was an income tax consequence, its origin was not in the income tax.

The Court reminded the IRS of this distinction. The economic benefit concept was not designed to stretch that far. The Court explained it as follows:

(1) He deducted something in 2010.

(2) She deducted the same something in 2011.

(3) Had he died in 2010, would the two have cancelled each other out?

To which the Court said no. If he had died in 2010, he would have deducted the supplies; the estate tax rule would have kicked-in; her basis would have reset to FMV; and she could have deducted the supplies again.

It is a crazy answer but the right answer.

Is it a loophole? 

Some loophole. I do not consider tax planning that involves dying to be a likely candidate for abuse. 

Splitting With The IRS Over Insurance

I am reading a case where the Tax Court just entered a “partial” summary judgement. This means that at least one issue has been decided but the remaining issue or issues are still being litigated.

And I think I see what the attorneys are up to.

We are talking about split-dollar life insurance. 

This had been a rather humdrum area of tax until 2002. The IRS then issued new rules which tipped the apple cart and sent planners scrambling to review – and likely revise – their clients’ split dollar arrangements (SDAs). I know because I had the misfortune of being point man on this issue at a CPA firm. There is a certain wild freedom when the IRS decides to reset an area of tax, with revisions to previous interim Notices, postponed deadlines and clients who considered you crazed.

To set-up the issue, a classic split dollar arrangement involves an employer buying a life insurance policy on an employee. The insurance is permanent – meaning cash value build-up - and the intent is for the employee to eventually walk away with the policy or for the employee’s estate to receive the death benefits. The only thing the employer wants is a return of the premiums it paid.

Find a policy where the cash value grows faster than the cumulative premiums paid and you have a tax vehicle ready to hit the highway. 

Our case involves the Morrissette family, owners of a large moving company. Grandmom (Clara Morrissette) had a living trust, to which she contributed all her company stock. She was quite concerned about the company remaining in the hands of the family. She had her attorney establish three trusts, one for each son. The sons, trusts and grandmom then entered into an agreement, whereby each son – through his trust – would buy the company stock of a deceased brother. If one brother died, for example, the remaining two would buy his stock. In the jargon, this is called a “cross purchase.”

This takes money, so each trust bought life insurance on the two other brothers.

This too takes money, which grandmom forwarded from her trust.

How much money? About $30 million for single-premium life policies.

Wow.

Obviously the moving company was extremely successful. Also obviously there must have been a life insurance person celebrating like a madman that day.

The only thing grandmom’s trust wanted was to be reimbursed the greater of the policies’ cash value or cumulative premiums paid.

Which gets us to those IRS Regulations from back when.

The IRS had decreed that henceforth SDAs would be divided into two camps:

(1) The employee owns the policy and the employer has a right to the cash value or some other amount.

This works fine until the premiums get expensive. Under this scenario the employee either has income or has a loan. Income of course is taxable, and the IRS insisted that a loan behave like a loan. The employee had to pay interest and the employer had to report interest income, with whatever income tax consequence followed.

And a loan has to be paid back. Many SDAs are set-up with the intent of the employee walking away someday. How will he/she pay back the loan at that time? This is a serious problem for the tax planners. 

(2)  The employer owns the policy and the employee has a right to something – likely the insurance in excess of the cash value or cumulative premiums paid.

The employee has income under this scenario, equal to the value of the insurance he/she is receiving annually. The life insurance companies publish tables, so practitioners can plan for this number.

But this leaves a dangerous possible tax issue: what happens once the cash value exceeds the amount to which the employer is entitled (say cumulative premiums)? Let’s say the cash value goes up by $250,000, and the employer’s share is met. Does the employee have $250,000 in income? There is a lot of lawyering on this point.

The Court decided that the grandmom had the second type – type (2) of SDA, albeit of the “family” and not the “employer” variety. The sons’ trusts had to report income equal the economic benefit of the life insurance, the same as an employee under the classic model.

This doesn’t sound like much, but the IRS was swinging for a type (1) SDA. If the sons’ trusts owned the policies, the next tax question would be the source of the money. The IRS was arguing that the grandmom trust made taxable gifts to the sons. Granted the gift and estate tax exclusion has been raised to over $5 million, but $30 million is more than $5 million and would trigger a hefty gift tax. The IRS was smelling money here.                 

The partial summary was solely on the income tax issue.

The Court will get back to the gift tax issue.

However, having won the income tax issue must make the Morrissette family feel better about winning the gift tax issue. According to the IRS’ own rules, grandmom’s trust owned the policies. What was the gift when the trust will get back all its money? The attorneys can defend from high ground, so to speak.

And there is one more thing.

Grandmom passed away. She was already in her 90s when the sons’ trusts were set up.

She died with the sons’ trusts owing her trust around $30 million.

Which her estate will not collect until the sons pass away or the SDAs are terminated. Who knows when that will be?

And what is a dollar worth X years from now? 

One thing we can agree on is that it not worth a dollar today.

Her estate valued the SDA receivables at approximately $7 million.

And the IRS is coming after her. There is no way the IRS is going to roll-over on those split dollar arrangements reducing her estate by $23 million.

You know the IRS did not think this through back in 2002 when they were writing and rewriting the split dollar rules.

Do You Have to Disclose That?

I was recently talking with another CPA. He had an issue with an estate income tax return, and he was wondering if a certain deduction was a dead loser. I looked into the issue as much as I could (that busy season thing), and it was not clear to me that the deduction was a loser, much less a dead loser.

He then asked: does he need to disclose if he takes the deduction?

Let’s take a small look into professional tax practice.

There are many areas and times when a tax advisor is not dealing with clear-cut tax law.

Depending upon the particular issue, I as a practitioner have varying levels of responsibility. For some I can take a position if I have a one-in-five (approximately) chance of winning an IRS challenge; for others it is closer to one-in-three.

There are also issues where one has to disclose to the IRS that one took a given position on a return. The concept of one-in-whatever doesn’t apply to these issues. It doesn’t have to be nefarious, however. It may just be a badly drafted Regulation and a taxpayer with enough dollars on the line.

Then there are “those” transactions.

They used to be called tax shelters, but the new term for them is “listed transactions.” There is even a subset of listed transactions that the IRS frowns upon, but not as frowny as listed transactions. Those are called “reportable transactions.”

This is an area of practice that I try to stay away from. I am willing to play aggressive ball, but the game stays within the chalk lines. Making tax law is for the big players – think Apple’s tax department – not for a small CPA firm in Cincinnati.

Staying up on this area is difficult, too. The IRS periodically revises a list of transactions that it is scrutinizing. The IRS then updates its website, and I – as a practitioner – am expected to repeatedly visit said website patiently awaiting said update. Fail to do so and the IRS automatically shifts blame to the practitioner.

No thanks.

I am looking at a case involving a guy who sells onions. His company is an S corporation, which means that he puts the business numbers on his personal return and pays tax on the conglomeration.

His name is Vee.

He got himself into a certain type of employee benefit plan.

A benefit plan provides benefits other than retirement. It could be health, for example, or disability or severance. The tax Code allows a business to prefund (and deduct) these benefits, as long as it follows certain rules. A general concept underlying the rules is risk-taking and cost-sharing – that is, there should be a feel of insurance to the thing.

This is relatively easy to do when you are Toyota or General Mills. Being large certainly makes it easier to work with the law of large numbers.

The rules however are problematic as the business gets smaller. Congress realized this and passed Code Section 419A(f)(6), allowing small employers to join with other small employers – in a minimum group of ten – and obtain tax advantages  otherwise limited to the bigger players.

Then came the promoters peddling these smaller plans. You could offer death and disability benefits to your employees, for example, and shift the risk to an insurance company. A reasonable employer would question the use of life insurance. If the employer needed money to pay benefits, wouldn’t a mutual fund make more sense than an illiquid life insurance policy? Ah, but the life insurance policy allows for inside buildup. You could overfund the policy and have all kinds of cash value. You would just borrow from the cash value – a nontaxable transaction, by the way – to pay the benefits. Isn’t that more efficient than a messy portfolio?

Then there were the games the promoters played to diminish the risk of joining a group with nine others.

Vee got himself into one of these plans.

He funded the thing with life insurance. He later cancelled the plan, keeping the life insurance policy for himself.

The twist on his plan was the use of experience-rated life insurance.

Experience-rated does not pay well with the idea of cost-and-risk sharing. If I am experience rated, then my insurance cost is based on my experience. My insurance company does not look at you or any of the other eight employers in our group. I am not feeling the insurance on this one.

Some of these plans were outrageous. The employer would keep the plan going for a few years, overpay for the insurance, then shut down the plan and pay “value” for the underlying insurance policy. The insurance company would keep the “value” artificially low, so it did not cost the employer much to buy the policy on the way out. Then a year or two later, the cash value would multiply ten, twenty, fifty, who-knows-how-many-fold. This technique was called “springing,” and it was like finding the proverbial pot of gold.

The IRS had previously said that plans similar to Vee’s were listed transactions.

This meant that Vee had to disclose his plan on his tax return.

He did not.

That is an automatic $10,000 penalty. No excuses.

He did it four times, so he was in for $40,000.

He went to Court. His argument was simple: the IRS had not said that his specific plan was one of those abusive plans. The IRS had said “plans similar to,” but what do those words really mean? Do you know what you have forgotten? What is the point of a spice rack? Does anybody really know what time it is?

Yea, the Court felt the same way. The plan was “similar to.” They were having none of it.

He owed $40,000.

He should have disclosed.

Even better, he should have left the whole thing alone.