Saturday, September 16, 2006

One, two, three, four, five ....

As some readers may have noticed, quite some time has passed since I last contributed anything of substance to BlueCollarLawyer. Having only recently re-visited my blog after a lengthy sabbatical from writing, it amused me to no small end to discover that one of my last posts was a satirical discourse on etiquette – namely whether it socially acceptable to clear your lungs and sinuses of mucous in public.

One would therefore hope that this current posting provides more in terms of intellectual stimulus. Don’t hold your breath though. Earlier this year I took up a position as a Transfer Pricing associate with a top-tier professional services firm and it has robbed me of all passion, creativity and insight with respect to matters of writing. Indeed, my last foray into literature was actually an in-house Continuing Professional Development (CPD) course titled ‘Effective Business Writing’. Despite my numerous requests, the course presenter had little to say on the subject of utilising humour in client correspondence. Put simply, it would appear that clients of top-tier accounting firms do not respond well to ‘comic relief’ forming part of their advisory work.

After having worked as a junior tax adviser for several months now, it has come to my attention that lacking a sense of humour is an essential pre-requisite to being a tax professional. To gain credibility as a tax adviser, one must dress like an FBI agent from the mid 80s. Drab grey suits, closely cropped haircuts, steel-rimmed spectacles and shirts whose colour is limited to white, grey or pale blue. Step outside of these barriers and you’re likely to be regarded as a radical, as someone who does not take their profession seriously.

Consider the following real-life altercation between a candidate for a tax position and the prospective employer:

* * * *

HR Manager: According to your academic transcript and professional qualifications, you’re more than suitably qualified for the position of in-house Tax Adviser to XYZ Corporation. However, we need to know that you’ll fit in with the existing culture. So, how do you spend time outside of work? Would you mind telling us about your extracurricular activities?

Candidate: Umm .. let me see. Well, I quite enjoy collecting stamps.

HR Manager: How interesting. Do you trade these stamps as well?

Candidate: No, not really. I simply like building up the collection, and then undertaking a periodic audit of my stamp filing system, alongside a detailed valuation of their current worth taking into account depreciation where applicable.

HR Manager: I see ….

Candidate: Sometimes, just to amuse myself, I conduct a hypothetical forecast of the capital gains tax (CGT) liability that would arise were I to dispose of the entire collection to an un-related third party. And then, to make things even more interesting, I calculate the tax penalty that would eventuate if I were to dispose of the asset to a family member at below market value. It makes me feel like I’m living life on the edge.

HR Manager: Uh Huh … would you mind excusing me for just a moment? I need to confer with my colleague over your suitability for the advertised position.

(Candidate exits room)

HR Manager: So, what do you think of him?

HR Executive: The man is pathetic. He clearly has no life outside of work, no loved ones, no family friends, definitely no girlfriend to speak of. His entire life revolves around facts, figures, records and statistics. He dresses poorly, with little or no fashion sense and has a face that conveys about as much emotion as a toaster. He’s perfect ….

* * * *

OK, so the above discourse is rather exaggerated. However, it does give some indication of the erosion of one’s personality that comes with being either a tax adviser or an accountant or, God forbid, a combination of the two. As the situation presently stands, my entire ‘professional existence’ revolves around numbers. Although report writing is essential to my job description, the numbers drive the words and never vice versa. I sometimes dream of numbers, of being at work without a calculator, frantically undertaking mathematical calculations with only my fingers and toes providing support. I think back to my days as a young child, watching Sesame Street and wishing for all the world that I could be more like the Count.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve ….

Oh sweet Jesus, beloved Mother of Christ ….. what the hell comes after twelve? Why didn’t the Sesame Street Count ever talk about the use of transfer pricing methodologies in proving the arm’s length nature of cross-border transactions between related entities? Did he ever mention the Berry ratio, what about the profit-split methodology? What the flying fornication is the comparable uncontrolled price method? How do I come about selecting third party comparable corporations for the purpose of undertaking a benchmarking analysis? What in the name of buggery is IFRS? Are Bert and Ernie gay or simply two struggling New York professionals sharing a one bedroom flat?

Some days I wish I could transport myself to simpler times, when the Sesame Street character did in fact possess all the answers to life.

1 comment:

Iqbal Khaldun said...

Brilliant post. Welcome back Dr Sam.