As of 12:08 p.m. ET, ServiceNow took a 4.4% tumble. The iShares Expanded Tech-Software ETF (IGV 3.82%)? Down 4%. It’s a bloodbath! (Okay, maybe a mild scrape. But still!) It’s enough to make a grown macro strategist weep into his borscht.
Yet, history, that relentless pedant, whispers a different tale. Investing in the broad index, despite the occasional fit of market pique, has proven, over the long haul, to be a remarkably sensible endeavor. It is as if the market, despite its tantrums, possesses an inherent tendency to… ascend. One might even suspect a mischievous imp is secretly tugging at the levers of commerce, ensuring a general upward trajectory. Regardless, for the patient investor, one who views decades as mere blips in the grand scheme of things, tracking the S&P 500 remains a perfectly reasonable, if slightly dull, pursuit.
ExxonMobil (XOM +2.66%) is…big. Like, really big. It’s the kind of company that probably has its own weather system. Last year they raked in $28.8 billion in earnings and $52 billion in cash flow. That’s not pocket change, folks. That’s enough to buy a small country…or at least a really nice golf course. They’ve been on a mission to invest in their most profitable assets—the stuff that’s easy to get and makes the most money—while simultaneously trimming the fat. Apparently, they’ve saved $15.1 billion since 2019, which is more than all the other major oil companies combined. It’s like they read a self-help book titled “How to Be Efficient and Also Very Rich.” And their balance sheet? Let’s just say it’s the envy of every other oil company. They’re practically Scrooge McDuck swimming in cash.
Now, before we envision Mr. Shuster suddenly decamping to a tropical island, it’s worth noting that a good chunk of those shares weren’t actually sold sold. 36,162 were withheld – a rather elegant way of saying they were used to cover taxes. Apparently, even chairmen of companies insuring mortgages aren’t exempt from the taxman’s grasp. The whole affair stemmed from the exercise of stock options – a corporate incentive scheme that, frankly, could fill a small library with explanations. Essentially, he got to buy shares at a pre-set price, and then sold some to cover the resulting tax bill. Not exactly a bold statement on the company’s future, more a practical matter of accounting.
The matter concerns promotional materials for Anktiva, both in a televised advertisement and in remarks offered by Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, the company’s Global Chief Scientific and Medical Officer and Executive Chairman, during a recent public discussion. The FDA, it appears, finds these presentations to be, shall we say, lacking in precise adherence to factual representation – a circumstance rarely conducive to lasting investor confidence.
The stock took a hit, naturally. Down nearly ten percent, if I recall correctly. I wasn’t panicked, exactly. More…mildly inconvenienced. I’ve learned over the years that these dips are often opportunities, little gifts disguised as financial setbacks. Though, admittedly, my definition of a “gift” is usually something that doesn’t require me to calculate risk tolerance.
The whole idea of “safety” is subjective, isn’t it? Everyone’s got their own definition. I look for companies that sell things people absolutely need, even when they’re pinching pennies. Not the latest gadget. Not artisanal coffee. Just…basic stuff. It’s not glamorous, but it’s less likely to disappear overnight. And frankly, I’m tired of being surprised.
The source of all this excitement? Weight loss drugs. Specifically, Mounjaro and Zepbound. Now, people have been trying to lose weight since, well, probably since there was weight to lose. But these aren’t your grandmother’s diet pills. These are serious medications, and they’re having a serious impact on Lilly’s bottom line. In 2025, these two drugs are expected to account for a whopping 56% of total revenue. That’s…concentrated. It’s a bit like building a skyscraper on a single foundation. Impressive, perhaps, but also potentially precarious.
These numbers, cold and precise, don’t speak of ambition or greed. They speak of prudence, perhaps. A director taking a portion of his reward, cashing out a piece of the prosperity. It’s a small harvest, in the grand scheme, but every grain counts.
The price they fetched was based on some rather complicated calculations involving weighted averages and market closes, but the gist is this: Ticho still has a goodly pile of shares left, worth a hefty $1.35 million. It’s enough to keep a small country afloat, or at least stock a very large pantry.