Kentucky To Tax Prediction Markets

 

Something landed in my inbox about Kentucky HB 757.

So I am reading about prediction markets.

You have probably heard of these things: they are being used as an oracle of a sort. What are the odds that so-and-so will be elected to the political office of such-and-such in whatever state this fall? It is more than a poll, as people are wagering hard cash. I may tell a pollster just about anything to wrap-up the call, but I am certainly not parting with money.

I read that Kentucky will impose a 14.25% transaction tax on “event contracts” beginning January 1, 2027.

I get the concept of an “event contract.” It is a binary arrangement between two parties, with the contract resolving as either a “yes” or a “no.” To me the perfect example is a sports game: either the Reds will win or they will lose when they play the Mets on May 27. Bet your heart out accordingly.

I would have thought that these transactions were already being taxed.

Here is the point: they are not.

It is due to technology.

The sports betting you and I grew up with involved a house, a handle and the house establishing the odds. The key here is that the house (or DraftKings, FanDuel or whatever) received the bets, determined the handle and odds, paid-out the winners, and kept the difference (the “juice”).

The above is called “betting,” folks. It was taboo in major professional sports until the 2018 Supreme Court decision in Murphy v NCAA. Those of us who have been around for a moment remember the NFL barring Tony Romo from attending a fantasy football convention in Las Vegas, which act seems quaint today as gambling commercials blare at us on football Sundays. Fantasy was considered too close to betting, and sports betting would diminish the integrity of the game. Fast forward and the NFL started partnering with DraftKings and FanDuel in 2021.  Heck, they have probably had a baby by now.

The “new” sports betting is cribbing on territory belonging to futures contracts: both are considered derivatives and both are regulated by the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC).

Let’s say you and I bet on the May 27 Reds game.

Here is Robinhood:

This is easy: I will pay you 49 cents on the dollar that the Reds will win. If the Reds win. I win a dollar. If the Reds lose, I lose 49 cents. There will also be commissions and such, because … of course.

The fiction here is that you and I are not betting. We are instead “investing” in “financial instruments” subject to the CFTC. Granted, one of us will win and the other lose as the “event contracts” settle, but we are not “betting.” We are competing against each other on future events. We are not betting against a house, as that would describe a sportsbook. Nothing to see here, officer. Have a good day.

Hit somebody’s wallet and they will deny the very law of gravity.  

Almost 90% of these “financial instruments” are tied to sports betting.

This my shocked face: 

           

The effect of this is to remove the prediction markets from the routine and customary state gambling regulatory apparatus.

Which means that state taxes are taking a hit as money leaves their sportsbooks.

Enter Kentucky.

Since 2023 Kentucky has levied a 9.75% tax for on-track wagers and 14.25% for online and mobile wagers.  The last time I checked, the horse racing industry was contributing upwards of $200 million annually to state tax revenue. You can bet your bippy Kentucky is going to protect it.

The new 14.25% tax on prediction markets is the same as for other online betting.

And the tax will apply whether one bets via DraftKings or DraftKings Predictions. Or FanDuel or FanDuel Predicts.

Yep, same companies but two platforms.

This is new frontier in state taxation, and you can be certain there will be litigation before the matter is settled.  I suspect this will go to the Supreme Court eventually.

The issue affects all states, of course. We limited our discussion today to Kentucky for one nontechnical reason: I live here.

 

When Is A Car Not A Car?

I had a conversation today with someone who wanted to understand the “tax side” of a series of transactions. More specifically, transactions that – to a non-tax person – would appear to have no tax side at all.

It made me think of a tax case I read while grabbing a quick dinner one night during busy season.

          COMMENT: Glamorous life, eh?

Think of your car. In the eyes of the IRS, is it one asset or is it a collection of interdependent systems that – together – form a car but which can be separately depreciated, abandoned, sold or whatnot?

This is easy: it is one asset. You start depreciation on the whole thing and you eventually sell or abandon the whole thing. You are not picking and choosing manifolds from rotors.

Except if ….

It is a race car.

There is a racing team. After each race the team strips down the car, perhaps to the nuts and bolts. They decide as they go though:

(1) Damaged parts

(2) Obsolete parts

a.    There is enough technological change in racing that a part can become obsolete almost overnight.

(3) Stress and wear parts

a.    These are not damaged or obsolete, but the team knows they have very limited life left because of the high stress and wear of racing.

                                                             i.     Some parts can be reused in a race.

                                                           ii.     Some parts cannot be raced again, but would be fine for a show car or pit car.

The team had a question for the IRS: can they deduct some of this stuff when they disassemble the car after every race?

To a tax nerd, the question is whether there has been a “disposition.” That is the trigger that allows one to remove an asset from a depreciation schedule and claim a gain or loss on the tax return – hopefully a loss.

But what does “disposition” mean to a race car?

Turns out that disassembling it after every race is the disposition. The IRS took pains to point out that the same car is never raced twice. Dale Earnhardt Jr races number 88, but you never see the same number 88 twice.

          COMMENT: There is a Zen quality to this.

That makes it easy: if you get rid of a part, you can write-off its remaining cost.

But what if you keep the part?

To phrase it another way: what if you had a disposition but did not, you know, dispose of the part?

Now you have an accounting twist. You value the part at its invoice cost (which is normal) and then adjust down for the amount of useful life already expired. Let’s say you have a $7,500 part, and the team experts say that it has 40% useful life remaining. Well, that part stays on your books at $3,000 ($7,500 times 40%). The other $4,500 gets written-off as a loss.

Heck, you can deduct a loss even if you keep the part!

Rinse and repeat for however many parts make up a race car.

COMMENT: I feel sorry for the person who has to bookkeep for all this.

I wonder if racing aficionados would recognize which racing team the IRS addressed in PLR 201710006.

A PLR is a private letter ruling, meaning that someone presents a situation to the IRS and requests the government position on tax consequences. This is generally done in advance to obtain some certainty to a transaction, especially if there is a lot of money involved.

And PLRs are published. For many years the IRS did not publish them, but there was a famous lawsuit requiring the IRS to do so. There was an issue, however, as the IRS is not allowed to release confidential information. The answer was heavy redaction of any confidential information while drafting the PLR.

Such as the name of the racing team.