Daily Commentary

MarketMinder’s View: This piece, which dives into UK tax policy under new Prime Minister Andy Burnham, is a little confusing to read because it has been updated several times with rather conflicting information—and it is one of many from a range of publications that read this way. So let us cut through this and clarify for readers, given inheritance taxes are a major, sensitive financial planning issue in Britain—and proposing changes will likely ruffle many feathers. First, note this is an inherently political issue, so remember we favor no party nor any politician. With that out of the way, here is the deal: As we expected, many are busy poring over past comments and policy proposals from Burnham’s time in Gordon Brown’s government years ago to try to divine policy direction. Monday, he was asked about reforming the current inheritance tax—technically, a 40% tax on estates valued at over £325,000 but with exemptions for parents passing property to children that can lift the baseline to £1,000,000 (or £2,500,000 for family farms). Instead, the talk was of installing a universal, unavoidable 10% death tax on all estates—something he mentioned years earlier as a means to fund the UK’s National Health Service (NHS). NHS needs funding now, so he was asked about making this change as a means to drum up revenue—and he didn’t shoot that notion down. Headlines immediately touted this as a sign that change was coming, triggering a furor. Today, a day later, he has outright denied this policy was under consideration. What this largely looks like to us is the UK government doing what UK governments do: Floating a trial balloon in the press regarding possible policy changes, gauging the sentiment impact and then walking the plans back. This is why it is such a mistake to presume prior talk of any kind—from years ago or even days ago—is an ironclad indication of where policy is going. In politics, talk is exceptionally cheap. Wait for action.

MarketMinder’s View: This op-ed dives into tariffs, which are inherently political, so please note MarketMinder favors no politician or political party, assessing developments solely for their effects on the economy, markets and/or personal finance. We generally agree with the thrust, laid bare by the title, that the Trump administration’s new replacement tariffs, which were designed to backfill those shot down by the US Supreme Court in February and the temporary ones enacted shortly thereafter, are an economic negative. Tariffs always are, and they hit the imposing nation hardest. That being said, we take issue with the idea that these replacements are worse than the former because they are likely to prove more resilient to court challenge and, therefore, lasting. And we take issue with the suggestion this rekindles inflation risk. First, tariffs have been in place for most of the last year, with maybe a couple-day window in between. Markets know this. They know tariffs are bad, but have pre-priced the effect. They even excessively pre-priced a worse scenario than reality delivered, given exemptions, deals and the lower statutory rates than those announced on “Liberation Day.” Consider: The World Bank estimated America’s average tariff rate would exceed 25% after April 2025’s revelations. This puts the rate at 11% now, but it is actually lower than that: Based on collections, it is under 10%, per Fisher Investments’ analysis of tariff collection as a share of imports. Moreover, some of the new announcements (tariffs on Canada) look like mere negotiating ploys in the talks to revise or reboot the US-Mexico-Canada Agreement. And those on Brazil have so many carve outs as to make them near-meaningless. Look, we know this backdrop isn’t ideal. But stocks don’t need ideal to rise—and the economy has shown it can deal, too. This issue isn’t really a swing factor for markets or the economy. For more, see our 7/24/2026 cover story, “The New Tariffs in Town Are Still Old News.”

MarketMinder’s View: This article is one of several weighing new Fed Head Kevin Warsh’s approach since taking office in May of saying little, establishing task forces to review various basic and fundamental approaches of the central bank (to things like inflation drivers and its balance sheet). The central worry of these is encapsulated here: “The challenge with less communication is that if the Fed does raise rates this week without laying out its reasoning, investors in the financial markets could read far more into the Fed’s move than intended and react negatively if their guess is wrong. ‘This is why you communicate about the reasons for your action,’ said William English, a former senior Fed economist now at Yale. ‘But if they don’t want to do that communication, they could be misunderstood.’” The article goes on to note that there hasn’t been a crisis and presumes that such a crisis could force Warsh into more explicit assessment of the economy. But here is the thing: Most of the communication that Warsh is referring to is forward guidance, which amounts to hints about the expected direction of policy rates and such. We didn’t have forward guidance until years into the Ben Bernanke Fed, so it really only dates to around 2010. We have had a Fed since 1913. That is a looooong gap. There were points in that time where the late Alan Greenspan mumbled and said nothing about policy direction. There were points when they didn’t even tell you what they did with rates! There wasn’t even backward guidance! So we have our doubts about the necessity of forward guidance in the here and now—or even when a crisis arises. The article nods to this, correctly noting forward guidance risks boxing in the Fed or fostering confirmation bias among policymakers. Moreover, when the Fed has used forward guidance in the past, it often hasn’t yielded insight into the actual actions that follow. That sows uncertainty and risks the Fed’s credibility, a key negative from 2022 that ought to be considered carefully.