What I Second-least Wanted to Do

I am a human being, and like most other human beings I know, I like good news. I like receiving good news a lot, but I REALLY like giving good news.

It happened this last March that I saw some possible good news for a client, and I was not as measured in proclaiming the good news as I should have been. I saw an opportunity that would save them *big money*, and actually get them some back, and I was excited to tell them about it. They were excited too, and they said, “go for it”.

As I was going for it, I ran the change through my software, and it came out just the way I thought it would. Then I was reviewing the forms, and I noticed a checkbox on one form that said, “Check here if you are eligible for this credit (see instructions)”. The box was checked, but off the top of my head, I couldn’t think of what would check or un-check that box. It didn’t correspond to any inputs in my tax software or to any questions I had answered, so I went to the instructions. Buried in the line-by-line instructions for that checkbox on that form was a series of IF-THEN questions, and as I read through them, I got a sinking feeling as I realized that my client failed the test.

Suddenly, the opportunity that I was excited about (the opportunity that I got them excited about) evaporated, and I had a choice to make.

What I second-least wanted to do was have an awkward conversation where I told them I was wrong and that the opportunity I had sold them last week was actually not available to them. This could at best damage my credibility with them and at worst make them active detractors of my business—which ultimately relies on credibility.

But what I least wanted to do was save face with them: send them a return to sign with a box I pretended not to know was checked inappropriately, get them lots of money back along with a glowing recommendation, knowing all the while that their return had a lie on it. Maybe that lie would never come for them. Maybe the IRS would never look any closer at their situation. Maybe they would get away with the money, and I would save face, and everyone would win! But maybe not.

The truth is the only version of things where you don’t have to keep your story straight. Maybe I could save face with them, but I would lose face with myself, and that’s not a good trade.

So I did what I second-least wanted to do.

If you want a CPA who will own up to their mistakes, who values integrity more highly than saving face, then give us a call.