Nevin's Data "Points"

The ERISA litigation field in recent years has seen copycat filings, plagiarism in pleadings, factual flaws, and misleading assertions—but to my eyes, we’ve just hit a new low. I’m speaking of what appears to be a new strategy, at least in this area of the law. Specifically, a California law firm by the name of Lieff Cabraser Heimann & Bernstein is in the midst of what appears to be a pre-trial “shakedown.” More specifically—brought to my attention by Daniel Aronowitz (writing for The Fid Guru Blog )—Leiff Cabraser is currently engaged in a letter writing campaign to plan sponsors, alerting them to a series of assertions about ERISA litigation, allegations about the fees paid by participants in their plans (relative to a standard that has been repeatedly criticized in that context at trial)—all alongside the fact that they’ve allegedly found an as-yet-unnamed plaintiff-participant in the plan in question that is said to be willing to represent a class action allegi

My “retirement” isn’t even a year old—and for the most part, it’s played out pretty much as planned.  There was, however, an area that caught us a bit flat-footed. For us (and this has very much been a joint effort between me and my wife), that surprise was…Medicare.  Don’t get me wrong; to date the coverage has compared favorably with what we had pre-retirement—mostly because we coupled “standard” Medicare with a Medicare Advantage plan (which has actually provided some nice enhancements over our pre-retirement coverage).  That said, here are some things we’ve learned along the way that we either didn’t know or hadn’t thought about “before”: Medicare isn’t free.  Well, technically speaking, some of Medicare comes without additional premiums/cost, at least if you’ve worked at least 10 years and paid into that system.  There are two “core” parts to Medicare; what are affectionately referred to as Part A (hospital coverage)—which is “free” (in that your historical payroll d

A recent MarketWatch article poses the intriguing question: “Why does TikTok hate the 401(k) so much?” Now, as social media platforms go, I’ve pretty much avoided TikTok. Oh, I’ve swung by it from time to time just to see what the “fuss” is, but generally speaking (and even in “retirement”), I’ve better ways to spend my day than scrolling through two-minute videos of—well, to my eyes, pretty insipid stuff. On the other hand, I’ve long “dabbled” in social media platforms, and by dabbled, I mean I have established accounts, moseyed around, and ultimately “engaged” (some of you may (hopefully) even have noticed that I’ve been doing two-minute videos on LinkedIn for the past several months)—it’s just never been my “day job.” I’ve been on Twitter since 2008—LinkedIn even longer. Facebook (yes, I AM a Boomer, after all) since my kids got on it, and Instagram once Mr. Zuckerberg shackled that app to Facebook. I’ve read books on the subject of social media, attended conference

It’s hard for me to believe that next week we’ll mark the 22 nd anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.  Harder still to comprehend that there are individuals now in the workplace who weren’t even alive on that day, and others so young that they have no memory of it. Other significant dates on the calendar have names affixed to them, two decades later—and likely forever—this one remains simply “nine-eleven.”  While the events of that day remain seared in my memory, human beings are, for the most part it seems, wired to forget, to “move on,” from our worst memories. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing, though this is one day I never will.    In fairness, that wasn’t a “normal” day for me. I was flying—cross-country—on an American Airlines flight to speak at a conference in California. I learned about the attacks while I was running from one terminal to another in Dallas, Texas. Oh, I had out of the corner of my eye wondered why everyone was gathered around those airport TV

Pensions were not on my mind in 1974, certainly not on Labor Day of that year.  While I was pondering my new college textbooks (and trying to figure out how I was going to pay for $.55/gallon gasoline), President Gerald R. Ford, less than a month in that role—and, appropriately enough on Labor Day, signed into law the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974—better known to most of us as ERISA. Little did I know at the time that that law—and the structure it provided to the nation’s private pension system—would, in the years to follow, play such an integral role in my life. And yet, in a wide variety of positions, and a handful of different organizations and locations, from that first college internship in 1977 to—well, today—retirement has been my career. ERISA did not create pensions, of course; they existed in significant numbers prior to 1974. A major motivation for ERISA was the termination of the Studebaker [i] pension plan for its hourly workers in 1963.