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Your Shoulder Isn’t Distracting Anyone, But Worrying About It Hurts Your Performance

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In 2018, EY told 30 of its female executives “women’s brains absorb information like pancakes soak up syrup, so it’s hard for them to focus.” Men’s brains, apparently, are more like waffles—better at focusing because information “collects in each little waffle square.”

This was a half-day professional development workshop called “Power, Presence and Purpose” that happened just seven years ago.

When an article about this training resurfaced in a WhatsApp group of accounting professionals, it sparked exactly the conversation the profession needs to have. Nancy McClelland and Questian Telka, hosts of She Counts, the real-talk podcast for women in accounting, dove into this issue in their latest episode, unpacking where these expectations come from and what they really cost women professionally.

When Your Body Becomes Everyone Else’s Business

The message starts early and never really stops. Women’s bodies are problems to be managed, and managing male reactions is somehow their responsibility.

“I was told I couldn’t wear spaghetti strap tank tops to school because it would be too distracting for the boys,” Questian recalls of her middle school days.

That expectation followed her straight into adulthood. Her mother, trying to prepare her for professional success, advised, “In a man’s world, you have to learn to cover your body and cut your hair and make yourself blend in with male colleagues. Think pantsuits, and not the colorful, fun kind.”

The EY training took this messaging to new extremes. The 55-page presentation included a score sheet where participants rated themselves on “masculine” versus “feminine” traits. According to the training, masculine meant “acts like a leader,” “athletic,” “aggressive,” and “independent.” Feminine traits included “eager to soothe hurt feelings,” “shy,” “understanding,” “loves children,” and “cheerful.”

“So this makes sense,” Nancy says with pointed sarcasm. “Men don’t love children, and they’re not understanding. And women don’t act like leaders, and they’re not independent.”

But the advice went far beyond stereotypes. Women were told not to “flaunt their bodies” because “sexuality scrambles the brain.” They were instructed to “speak briefly because they often ramble and miss the point.” Most jaw-dropping of all was the advice not to directly confront male colleagues in meetings and to avoid sitting directly across from them, as it might make the men feel threatened.

“If that was required, I would be fired immediately,” Questian laughs. “I’m not going to last very long.”

“For the men listening, you’re not responsible for how women dress,” Nancy says, cutting to the heart of it. “You’re responsible for your behavior and your professionalism.”

The Hidden Tax on Women’s Brains

This constant self-monitoring is exhausting and actively undermines performance. Questian points to objectification theory, developed by researchers Fredrickson and Roberts, which shows that when women constantly monitor their appearance, it creates self-objectification.

“A 2020 review of that research found that this constant body monitoring actually reduces your cognitive performance,” she explains.

Nancy knows this firsthand. At a recent conference, wearing a black-and-gray sweater dress instead of her usual colorful attire, she found herself worrying, “People are going to be like, ‘What’s up, Nancy? ‘” How come you’re not colorful today?’

The irony wasn’t lost on her. After years of worrying about standing out too much, she was now anxious about blending in. Either way, that mental energy was stolen from the work itself.

“When I feel like my insides and outsides line up, I stop the constant self-objectification,” Nancy explains. “My brain focuses on doing the work instead of being busy watching itself.”

The research backs this up. McKinsey’s 2023 Women in the Workplace report and Catalyst’s work on emotional tax show that women—especially women of color—must maintain constant vigilance at work, scanning for bias and managing others’ reactions. That’s energy they can’t use for actual leadership.

The double bind makes it worse. “It’s this impossible tightrope of looking good, but not too good at work,” Questian says. “Don’t be too much, but don’t be too little.”

The problem persists today. At a recent conference, Questian learned that men were standing around discussing a female colleague’s clothing and body. The woman was, by any standard, appropriately dressed.

“What I found disturbing was the standing around discussing a woman and her attire and her body,” Questian says. “It’s a responsibility to behave and be professional, regardless of what she was doing or how she was dressing. Just don’t engage in those conversations.”

Finding Your Way Back to Yourself

Both hosts have wrestled with these pressures personally, though they’re quick to acknowledge the privilege that comes with running their own firms.

Nancy’s transformation is striking. For over a decade, she wore almost exclusively black, gray, brown, and white. As someone who regularly spoke to C-suite executives and boards, she wanted to be taken seriously.

Then a friend noticed the disconnect. “You’re one of the most colorful personalities that I know, and your exterior doesn’t match your interior,” she said, giving Nancy a colorful necklace.

“I was so scared the first time I wore that necklace,” Nancy admits. “Because I was like, oh, everybody’s gonna notice me. And I wanted to be noticed for my accomplishments.”

But when Nancy started dressing more authentically, her clients in Chicago’s quirky Logan Square neighborhood, where she runs a hyperlocal firm, actually trusted her more.

“Wearing a traditional black suit said ‘professional in an office.’ It didn’t say ‘You get me,'” she explains.

Questian takes a different approach, embracing how she wants to dress regardless of others’ opinions. “Some people will like me for it. Some people will not like me for it. And if it’s not appropriate, maybe that’s not the space I’m meant to be in.”

She’s pushed boundaries her entire career. Fifteen years ago at a Big Four firm where pantyhose were required in the dress code, she simply never wore them. She was never disciplined. The rule existed more to police than to serve any real purpose.

“For us to be able to say, ‘I’m doing this, and I feel comfortable’, it’s a little unfair,” Nancy acknowledges, recognizing that many women face real consequences for dress code violations.

Rewriting the Rules

The solution requires individual choices and systemic change. For women navigating these waters, the hosts offer three essential questions:

  • Can I move in it? Is it comfortable and functional for your workday?
  • Will I be thinking about it during the day? Will it create mental distraction?
  • Does it feel like me? Does it align with who you are?

Questian adds deeper considerations, like what makes you feel confident? How do you want to show up as a leader? What environments make you feel seen and safe?

Here’s what firm leaders can do better:

  • Involve employees in creating policies through genuine collaboration, not top-down mandates.
  • Shift from appearance to function. What does the work require? Are there safety needs? What are client expectations?
  • Redefine professionalism around respect, results, and competence, not clothing choices.

Nancy shares a perfect example of functional requirements. “I was working on a client project that turned out to be in the middle of a rail yard, and I was walking across this rail yard in a business suit with a skirt and high heels. That is a safety issue.”

For male colleagues who want to be allies, the ask is simple but powerful. When the conversation shifts to a woman’s appearance, redirect it. “Let’s stay focused on her work” or “She’s an excellent leader” doesn’t have to be dramatic. It just has to happen.

“If this woman heard the conversation you were having,” Questian asks, “would it be a conversation you would be proud of?”

The Real Bottom Line

EY paid a $100,000 fine and created a half-million-dollar scholarship fund for women and underrepresented minorities after their training came to light. But an independent review two years later showed things hadn’t improved much. Policy changes without culture change aren’t enough.

“Professionalism should be built around respect and results and competence,” Questian emphasizes, not around policing women’s bodies or managing men’s reactions.

 “The solution is communication,” Nancy says, bringing the conversation home. “Have employees participate in dress code conversations. Create a safe space where people can put their two cents in and build something off of that.”

As the hosts wrap up, they invite listeners to join the conversation on the She Counts Podcast LinkedIn page. What’s the most ridiculous dress code rule you’ve ever been given?

Questian closes with a modified quote from Yves Saint Laurent: “What is most important in your attire is the woman who’s wearing it.”

The mental energy women spend managing their appearance isn’t just unfair; it’s a measurable drain on the talent and leadership the accounting profession desperately needs. When firms finally stop asking women to dress to accommodate others’ discomfort and start defining professionalism by actual professional behavior, everyone wins.

Listen to the full episode above to hear Nancy and Questian’s complete conversation about pancakes, power suits, and why personal autonomy at work shouldn’t be negotiable.

A $600 Credit Card Complaint Unraveled One of the Biggest Frauds of the 1980s

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The auditors stood in what looked like a massive insurance restoration job. Equipment everywhere. Workers milling around. Paperwork ready and in order. It looked like a thriving construction site.

Except it wasn’t real.

The workers were hired actors. The paperwork was fake. The project didn’t even exist. And the company behind it was worth hundreds of millions of dollars on paper.

This is the story of Barry Minkow and ZZZZ Best. On a recent episode of the Oh My Fraud podcast, host Caleb Newquist explained this financial crime with his trademark dark humor that resonates with accounting professionals and true crime fans alike.

Starting in the Garage

Barry was born in 1966 and grew up in Reseda, a middle-class suburb in the San Fernando Valley. He wasn’t an athlete or particularly popular. His classmates nicknamed his old Buick “the bomb,” which tells you where he stood socially.

But Barry wanted to stand out, and business seemed like the way to do it.

At 15, Barry started a carpet cleaning company out of his parents’ garage. He called it ZZZZ Best. The four Zs represented the number of kids he wanted someday. The name also put the company at the end of the phone book listings, which wasn’t great marketing, but he was 15. What did he know?

Actually, Barry knew more about the carpet-cleaning industry than most teenagers did. His mom worked at a carpet cleaning company, and he’d done telemarketing there as a kid. He understood how to pitch services, how pricing worked, and what customers expected.

The business was real at first. Barry hustled, running local ads, making aggressive sales calls, and working long hours. ZZZZ Best built a modest reputation by showing up when scheduled, charging what they quoted and working late to finish jobs. Compared to competitors known for bait-and-switch tactics, ZZZZ Best seemed like the most honest option.

But running a business as a teenager created problems. California law didn’t allow minors to sign binding contracts, so banks would shut down his accounts once they realized how old he was. He wasn’t even old enough to drive at first, so he needed rides from friends to meet customers.

The biggest problem was cash flow. There are upfront costs like equipment, supplies, advertising, and payroll. Revenue comes later, after you do the work. When you’re 15 with no savings and no credit, those gaps become huge problems.

That’s when the shortcuts started. Check kiting to cover expenses. Overcharging customer credit cards and only refunding if someone complained. He staged burglaries at his own office to collect insurance payouts and even sold his grandmother’s jewelry to raise cash.

These actions could have landed him in jail. But at this stage, it wasn’t massive corporate fraud. It was just a young business owner scrambling to keep something afloat.

The Pivot to Fake Restoration

The thing about solving cash flow problems with fraud is you’re not actually fixing anything. You’re just postponing the problem and adding new ones.

The carpet cleaning business was real, but it wasn’t wildly profitable. And it definitely wasn’t generating the kind of money Barry was starting to claim publicly. He needed something bigger. Something that could explain rapid growth and put impressive numbers on paper.

Enter insurance restoration.

The pivot made some sense. Carpet cleaning and disaster restoration overlap—smoke damage, water damage, that kind of work. But the real appeal was scale. Residential carpet cleaning might bring in a few hundred dollars per job. Commercial restoration contracts could run hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions of dollars.

Restoration work also offered complexity. Multiple parties were involved, including insurers, adjusters, contractors, and property owners. Work spread across multiple locations. Payments happened in stages. Lots of documentation. From the outside, it’s hard to tell what’s actually happening on any given job.

Around this time, Barry met Tom Padgett at a gym in the San Fernando Valley. Tom was an insurance claims adjuster and was established in the industry. He understood exactly how insurance companies documented and approved restoration claims. That gave him credibility Barry didn’t have.

Together, they began creating restoration projects that existed mostly on paper. Contracts showing large commercial cleanup jobs. Work orders and invoices—the kind of supporting documentation you’d expect if major restoration work was actually happening.

To make it more believable, they created Interstate Appraisal Services. On paper, it looked like an independent firm verifying restoration projects for insurers. In reality, it was part of the same scheme.

With those fake restoration contracts documented, Barry started factoring receivables. That meant selling ZZZZ Best’s accounts receivable to banks at a discount in exchange for immediate cash. Instead of waiting months to get paid, you get most of the money now. The bank collects the full amount later.

The problem was that the invoices weren’t tied to real projects, so there was nothing for the bank to collect. New contracts had to appear to cover old obligations. More documentation. More fake projects. Bigger numbers. It wasn’t exactly a Ponzi scheme, but it worked like one. Except the people being recruited were banks instead of investors.

By the mid-1980s, ZZZZ Best was reporting roughly $50 million in annual revenue. Most of it came from the restoration business that largely didn’t exist.

Fooling the Auditors

Going public would solve many of Barry’s problems. He’d get access to capital, legitimacy, visibility, and the kind of validation that makes lenders and partners more comfortable.

But there was one obstacle: auditors.

Before a company can go public, independent auditors must review the financial statements, verify revenue, and confirm contracts exist. The numbers have to reflect reality. That’s a big problem when much of your revenue is fake.

ZZZZ Best hired Ernst & Whinney, one of the then-Big Eight accounting firms. It was a serious firm with a serious reputation. Exactly the kind of name you’d want if you were trying to build credibility.

Ernst & Whinney did what auditors do. They asked questions. They requested documentation. Eventually, they wanted to see some restoration projects in person.

Paperwork alone wasn’t going to be enough anymore. So the fraud evolved.

Instead of just fake documents, Barry and his team created fake job sites. Barry temporarily staged buildings that weren’t ZZZZ Best projects to look like they were. They brought in equipment, added signage, and had workers show up. They prepared paperwork in advance. There was enough activity to create the impression of a functioning restoration job.

Put yourself in the auditors’ shoes. You’re visiting a site for a brief period. It’s your first time there. Management is guiding you through everything. From your perspective, everything lines up. The site visit confirms what you’re being told. Independent appraisals exist. The documentation matches.

Ernst & Whinney issued an unqualified audit opinion. They believed the financial statements fairly reflected the company’s finances. ZZZZ Best cleared a major hurdle.

The company went public in January 1986 through a reverse merger with a shell company already publicly traded. It’s a faster route to the stock market that can involve less scrutiny than a traditional IPO.

The stock began trading at around $4 per share. Within months, it climbed to about $18. Barry Minkow, barely out of his teens, was suddenly CEO of a publicly traded company worth nearly $300 million.

The $600 Complaint That Brought It All Down

For a while, everything looked like it was working. Media coverage was positive. Barry conducted interviews, leaning into the young-entrepreneur success story. But behind the scenes, pressure was building. Some lenders were asking more detailed questions about restoration contracts. Industry people wondered how such a young company had landed so many large jobs so quickly.

Then came a problem with a flower order.

Barry owned a small side business called Floral Fantasies. It wasn’t a major part of ZZZZ Best, just another little venture. A Los Angeles secretary named Robin Swanson was overcharged by about $600 on a credit card purchase. She complained and tried to get a refund. She kept calling but got nowhere.

Most people would eventually let it go. Not Robin.

She started asking questions, talking to other customers and comparing experiences. What she found suggested a pattern of repeated questionable charges tied to Barry’s businesses. She documented names, dates, and amounts and took it all to the Los Angeles Times.

When reporters started digging, they weren’t initially investigating the restoration business. They were looking at credit card complaints. But when journalists pull at one thread, they tend to find others. Questions about Floral Fantasies led to questions about Barry’s business practices, which in turn led to scrutiny of ZZZZ Best’s restoration contracts.

The article hit on May 22, 1987: “Behind Whiz Kid Is a Trail of False Credit Card Billings.”

At first, it didn’t look catastrophic. But it accelerated scrutiny that was already building. In early June, Ernst & Whinney abruptly resigned as ZZZZ Best’s auditor, citing unresolved questions about certain restoration contracts.

When your auditors suddenly quit, that’s about as reassuring as a smoke alarm going off in the middle of the night.

The stock price plummeted from $18 to the mid-$6 range. A proposed acquisition that might have stabilized everything fell apart. By July 1987, Barry resigned as CEO, citing health reasons. Shortly afterward, ZZZZ Best filed for bankruptcy.

When the dust settled, the company that once had a market value of nearly $300 million had remarkably little underneath it. Just some equipment and a few vehicles for a small, legitimate carpet-cleaning business. Investor losses topped $100 million.

Prison, Pastor, and More Fraud

In January 1988, a federal grand jury indicted Barry and several associates. The charges covered securities fraud, mail fraud, racketeering, bank fraud, tax violations, and conspiracy. After a trial lasting several months, Barry was convicted on dozens of counts.

In March 1989, Judge Dickran Tevrizian sentenced Barry to 25 years in federal prison and ordered him to pay tens of millions in restitution. Tom Padgett, who helped create the fake restoration projects, pleaded guilty and was sentenced to eight years.

That’s where most fraud stories end. But Barry’s story was just beginning.

While serving his sentence in Colorado, Barry went through what he described as a religious conversion. Raised Jewish, he became a born-again Christian in prison. He got involved in ministry programs and studied theology. He was released in 1995 after serving about seven and a half years.

Barry enrolled at Liberty University and earned a master’s degree in divinity. By the late 1990s, he was pastor of San Diego Community Bible Church. He also founded the Fraud Discovery Institute in 2001, positioning himself as someone who could spot fraud because he’d committed it.

He spoke at churches, universities, and accounting conferences. He wrote books about ethics and redemption. Media profiles framed him as a cautionary tale-turned-expert. By the late 2000s, Barry had rebuilt surprising credibility.

Then came Lennar.

The Fraud Investigator’s Fraud

Lennar Corporation is one of the largest homebuilders in the United States. In 2009, right after the housing market collapsed, the company was under pressure, as was much of the construction industry.

Barry released a report through his Fraud Discovery Institute accusing Lennar of accounting misconduct. He alleged financial irregularities and potential fraud at the executive level. He filed complaints with regulators and spoke publicly about the allegations.

Lennar’s stock dropped from about $11.50 to the mid-$6 range within weeks. Media coverage amplified the claims, prompting analysts to ask questions.

But there were problems with Barry’s allegations.

Before going public with his claims, Barry had taken short positions against Lennar stock, meaning he bet that Lennar’s stock price would go down. If negative news about Lennar came out, Barry would profit.

Also, a San Diego developer named Nicolas Marsch III, who was already suing Lennar over a failed real estate deal, hired Barry to investigate the company. The fraud allegations weren’t coming from a neutral source.

Federal investigators concluded that key elements of Barry’s fraud claims against Lennar lacked evidence to support them. Prosecutors charged him with conspiracy to manipulate Lennar’s stock through false allegations.

He pleaded guilty in 2011. Judge Patricia Seitz sentenced him to five years in federal prison and ordered him to pay $583 million in restitution, essentially the amount Lennar’s market value dropped after his report. She said Minkow had “no moral compass.”

The Pastor Who Stole from His Flock

While the Lennar situation was unfolding, something else was happening at Barry’s church.

During much of his time as pastor of San Diego Community Bible Church, prosecutors said Barry was embezzling money from the church itself. According to the U.S. Attorney’s office, he stole more than $3 million through unauthorized accounts, forged checks, and diverted donations.

Some victims were individual church members who knew Barry personally and trusted him spiritually. One victim was a widower who thought he was funding a humanitarian hospital project overseas. Investigators concluded the project didn’t exist.

Churches tend to operate on trust, which means financial oversight often relies on good faith rather than verification. That didn’t help here.

In January 2014, Barry pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit bank fraud, wire fraud, mail fraud, and defrauding the federal government related to the church schemes. Federal prosecutors called him “a professional con man expertly plying his craft, a predator from the pulpit.”

The judge called it a “despicable, inexcusable crime” and imposed the maximum sentence allowed: another five years in federal prison on top of the Lennar sentence.

Lessons for Accounting Professionals

Barry was released from federal prison in June 2019. He reportedly works in addiction counseling now. He owes $612 million in restitution across his various convictions. He’ll be paying that back for the rest of his life.

His three-decade criminal career offers several lessons:

  • Fraud escalates. ZZZZ Best didn’t begin as a massive public company scandal. It started with check kiting and overcharging.
  • Small rationalizations become bigger ones. A “temporary” cash-flow fix becomes fabricated contracts that turn into staged job sites. Early ethical lapses are often leading indicators rather than isolated incidents.
  • Revenue deserves skepticism, especially when growth outpaces reality. ZZZZ Best reported explosive revenue from complex restoration contracts that few people fully understood. When you see rapid growth tied to opaque transactions, multiple third parties, or heavy reliance on estimates and documentation, that’s a cue to dig deeper.
  • Independence and professional skepticism matter more than reputation. A Big 8 firm with a string name wasn’t immune to being deceived. Don’t outsource your judgment to management narratives, staged environments, or impressive paperwork.
  • Verification beats trust. The fake restoration sites worked because auditors saw what they expected to see. Fraudsters exploit expectations. Time pressure and client relationships can dull the instinct to “trust but verify.” Independent confirmations, third-party evidence, and corroborating documentations are essential safeguards.
  • Culture and governance are risk factors. ZZZZ Best was led by a charismatic founder with little oversight and a board that lacked the experience or backbone to challenge him. That same pattern reappeared at the church and in the Lennar situation. Weak governance structures and concentrated authority create environments where fraud can thrive. When evaluating clients, ask hard questions about the tone at the top and real accountability.
  • Small complaints can uncover big problems. ZZZZ Best started unraveling over a $600 credit card complaint. Pay attention to the outlier, the small anomalies, and the client who keeps asking questions. Those moments often reveal more than polished financial statements ever will.

When the Paperwork Looks Perfect, Look Closer

The story of Barry Minkow and ZZZZ Best is part cautionary tale, part masterclass in how fraud evolves and how even sophisticated professionals can be misled.

For accountants, auditors, and advisors, it’s a reminder that our role is both ethical and technical. It requires curiosity, courage, and the willingness to challenge narratives that feel too neat.

For a full breakdown, listen to the complete episode of Oh My Fraud. It’s a fascinating look at one of the most audacious frauds in modern business history and the lessons it still holds for the profession today.

Which Accounting Firms Have the Happiest Employees? And Does It Even Matter Anymore?

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In episode 475 of The Accounting Podcast, hosts Blake Oliver and David Leary welcomed Dominic “Dom” Piscopo, CPA, from Big 4 Transparency to discuss his annual rankings of the best and worst accounting firms. What started as a conversation about job satisfaction and hours worked quickly evolved into a discussion on how AI startups might systematically dismantle the entire professional services industry.

The timing couldn’t be more striking. While Dom shared data showing Andersen topping the charts for employee satisfaction despite the stress of IPO readiness, the hosts were grappling with a different set of numbers. Intuit’s stock fell 33% in just 30 days, wiping out $110 billion in market value. Xero is down 22%. When an AI tax planning app called Hazel debuted, wealth management stocks plummeted. Raymond James dropped nearly 9% in a single day.

The Best and Worst Places to Work (While They Still Exist)

Before diving into the existential threats facing the profession, Dom shared his latest rankings based on over 21,500 data submissions from accounting professionals.

The winners surprised him. Andersen claimed the top spot for both job satisfaction (7.97 out of 10) and hours worked (averaging just 39 hours weekly). “I would have imagined that would have been a very tricky year for people at the firm,” Dom noted, given the IPO preparations. “But it seems like maybe the excitement, maybe some of the financial benefits have outweighed that.”

Plante Moran, last year’s champion, dropped to second place with a 7.73 satisfaction score, but the firm actually had the worst hours among all firms surveyed at 47.3 per week. “That hints to something else positive going on there,” Dom observed. “Might it be culture? Might it be compensation?”

Rounding out the top five were Weaver, Aprio (bucking the trend of struggling PE-backed firms), and Wipfli. On the other end, Citrin Cooperman posted the worst satisfaction score Dom has ever seen—just 5.13 out of 10. They were joined in the bottom three by MNP (a Canadian firm that acts like a PE-backed consolidator) and Cherry Bekaert.

The Big 4 landed squarely in the middle, with PwC slightly above average at 6.8 and the others hovering around 6.6. Tax professionals reported the highest satisfaction across all service lines at 7.05, while audit remained the lowest at 6.62, though both showed steady improvement year over year.

The Craigslist Prophecy

These rankings might soon become academic curiosities if a viral observation proves prophetic. Hunter Horsley’s tweet stopped David in his tracks. “In 2006, every section of Craigslist was a $1 billion marketplace startup waiting to happen. In 2026, every section of PwC’s website is a $10 billion AI startup waiting to happen.”

The parallel is haunting. Craigslist’s housing section became Airbnb and Zillow. Jobs turned into Indeed and ZipRecruiter. Dating spawned Tinder. One by one, entrepreneurs identified sections of the sprawling classifieds site, built specialized solutions, and captured massive value.

Now look at PwC’s service menu: audit, insurance, consulting, deals, digital assets, AI engineering, tax services. Each represents a potential target for AI disruption.

David had seen this movie before. “This is exactly what happened to QuickBooks desktop,” he explained. “Every menu in QuickBooks desktop got attacked by a SaaS startup.” Bill.com went after vendor payments. OnPay and others targeted payroll. Eventually, Intuit had to scramble to integrate or acquire these competitors.

But now the cycle is restarting with AI. As David put it bluntly, “AI isn’t going to take your job. It’s going to take away the business unit at the firm you work for. And then you won’t have a job.”

The Wealth Management Canary

Wall Street isn’t waiting for proof. Hazel AI is a tool that can ingest tax returns, pay stubs, and account statements to create personalized tax strategies in minutes. When it launched, the market’s reaction was swift and brutal.

Raymond James: down 8.87%. LPL Financial: down 8%. Charles Schwab: down 7%. These were established wealth management firms whose business models suddenly looked obsolete.

The consumer data explains why investors panicked. According to a Best Money survey, 82% of Americans now trust AI for financial information and guidance. More than half have actually used it, and of those who acted on AI’s advice, 65% said the outcome was good. Nearly two-thirds report their finances have improved since they started using AI.

Blake shared his own experiment. Facing a tax bill last year, he wanted to adjust his withholding. “I set up a ChatGPT project, took my pay stubs, dropped them in there, explained what happened last year, gave it my tax return, and said, ‘Help me adjust my withholdings.’ And it worked.”

This is exactly the kind of analysis CPAs charge for. But as Blake pointed out, the profession needs to stop asking whether AI will be as good as a human expert. The real question: “Is the AI going to be good enough to replace what I’m doing?”

For millions of underserved Americans who can’t afford professional help, AI doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be better than asking coworkers at the car wash for tax advice, as David’s 19-year-old son was doing.

The Battle Over Data Moats

Intuit CEO Sasan Goodarzi and Xero CEO Sukhinder Singh Cassidy aren’t accepting the market’s verdict quietly. Both argue that Wall Street fundamentally misunderstands their competitive advantages.

Their defense is simply that data creates moats. Companies that “deeply understand their customers and own proprietary data” will win, according to Goodarzi. Singh Cassidy claims Xero’s “ecosystem of trust” makes cloning it “impractical.”

Blake thinks they might be right, at least about the general ledger. “QuickBooks has been dominant for so long because it’s the trusted general ledger system of record,” he explained. “To replace that trust is really difficult.”

The evidence supports this. Xero spent billions trying to crack the U.S. market and barely dented QuickBooks’ dominance. Even when Intuit makes unpopular changes like the despised new navigation bar, nobody switches. The friction is too high, the trust too important.

But the GL might be safe while everything around it burns. “AI is not going to disrupt the GL,” Blake argued. “What it’s going to disrupt is all the processes around it: what you do with that data, how you analyze it.”

TurboTax, for instance, looks vulnerable. Tax prep is essentially logic applied to forms, exactly what AI excels at. Blake proposed a thought experiment: create an AI agent for each IRS form, train it on the instructions, and link them together. You could potentially build a tax engine that way.

Meanwhile, “vibe coding,” using AI to build apps without traditional programming, is already replacing small business tools. Companies are building custom internal workflow apps, replacing $40-per-month SaaS subscriptions one by one. “When is it going to be ‘I’m going to vibe code my own QuickBooks?” David wondered. Not yet, they agreed. Accounting systems are too complex. But the question itself represents a shift in what’s possible.

What Survives the Disruption

Dom offered a crucial perspective on what endures when automation comes for professional services. “The human’s role often is to provide comfort and almost like taste, via their lived experiences and what they’ve seen with other clients,” he observed. Simple execution is at risk, but “where taste comes into play or lived experiences, I think that might be a little bit safer.”

He even noted an unexpected upside: bad TikTok tax advice has actually generated work for CPAs. People see questionable guidance online and seek professional validation. “It got the ball rolling for people to bring this forward because they know enough to know they shouldn’t just blindly follow this.”

The picture that emerges is complex but navigable. Systems of record, such as the trusted GLs that anchor financial data, appear protected by switching costs and accumulated trust. Advisory work that depends on those systems faces more immediate risk. And human elements like judgment, experience, the ability to comfort anxious clients, may prove surprisingly durable.

For practitioners evaluating their careers, understanding which category your work falls into becomes critical. Are you doing rote execution that AI can replicate? Or are you providing the wisdom, judgment, and human connection that clients will continue to value?

The firms that survive will find ways to layer human value on top of AI efficiency. That might mean AI-assisted services at lower price points with human review. It might mean focusing on complexity that AI can’t yet handle. But the first step is acknowledging that the market has already begun to move.

As accounting professionals consider their next career moves, Dom’s firm rankings offer one lens for evaluation. But the bigger question is which firms are positioning themselves to thrive in an AI-transformed landscape, and which are simply rearranging deck chairs? Understanding the satisfaction data and the disruption trajectory has never been more important for making that choice.

Listen to the full episode of The Accounting Podcast for the complete discussion, including more details on firm rankings and strategies for navigating the AI transformation.

Why Your Service Business Client Shouldn’t Have Cost of Goods Sold on Their Tax Return

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You’re reviewing a new client’s prior-year returns when something catches your eye. The business is a consulting firm—pure services, no inventory to speak of—yet there’s cost of goods sold on Schedule C. You pull up the financial statements and find “cost of services” listed separately from other expenses. The previous preparer apparently decided consistency was the goal and carried the figure straight over to the tax return.

It’s a mistake Jeremy Wells sees all the time. In fact, he’s seen so many tax returns with this exact error that he devoted an entire episode of Tax in Action to breaking down what cost of goods sold really means for tax purposes and why getting it wrong matters more than you might think.

“I’ve seen a lot of tax returns prepared for new clients coming into my firm, where the returns were either self-prepared or prepared by another firm that reported cost of goods sold for a particular business when I knew that that business should not have reported cost of goods sold,” Jeremy explains.

You might think it all reduces taxable income anyway, so what difference does it make where the numbers land? But that reasoning misses something fundamental about what cost of goods sold actually represents in the tax code.

Only Three Types of Businesses Get Cost of Goods Sold

Treasury Regulation 1.61-3(a) tells us that only three types of businesses calculate gross income using cost of goods sold:

  • Manufacturing: businesses that produce goods from raw materials
  • Merchandising: businesses that purchase finished goods for resale
  • Mining: businesses that extract natural resources

If your client isn’t in one of these three categories, they don’t have cost of goods sold for tax purposes.

“No other kind of business has that formula described in terms of gross income,” Jeremy emphasizes. “Only businesses in those three categories: manufacturing, merchandising, and mining.”

This trips up practitioners because every business has what Jeremy calls “direct costs”—the expenses they must pay to generate revenue. He uses his own firm as an example. They use ProConnect tax software with a pay-per-return model, buying individual credits to file or print each client’s return. These are clearly direct costs related to serving specific clients.

But those software credits are ordinary business expenses, not cost of goods sold. Jeremy’s firm provides services, not merchandise. They don’t manufacture anything. They’re not mining. So despite having clear, traceable direct costs for each client, they don’t report cost of goods sold on their tax return.

The confusion gets worse with modern businesses that blur traditional categories. A business coach might sell one-on-one coaching (a service) while also selling digital products or online courses (potentially merchandise). A content creator might offer consulting while also selling physical products. Each revenue stream needs its own analysis.

“I’ve even had some pushback from new clients when we prepare that first tax return, where the prior returns had cost of goods sold reported, the return I prepared doesn’t, and the taxpayer actually notices and questions that,” Jeremy says.

Understanding which businesses qualify is just the start. The real insight comes from understanding why this classification matters so much.

Cost of Goods Sold Isn’t a Deduction—It’s Income Itself

Every tax professional knows the phrase, “expenses are deductible due to ‘legislative grace.’” Congress decides what deductions you can take. They can expand them, limit them, or take them away entirely.

But cost of goods sold works differently.

IRC Section 61 defines gross income as “income from whatever source derived.” For those three special categories of businesses, the regulations specify that gross income equals gross receipts minus cost of goods sold. This happens before you even think about Section 162 ordinary and necessary business expenses.

“Cost of goods sold is actually part of the definition of gross income when it comes to tax,” Jeremy explains. “It’s not just a special kind of expense.”

The courts have interpreted this to mean that cost of goods sold represents a “return of capital” rather than a tax deduction. When a store buys inventory for $50 and sells it for $100, that first $50 isn’t income; it’s just getting back the money they invested. The income is only the $50 profit.

This has real implications for what costs belong in the calculation. The basic formula is:

Beginning inventory + purchases of inventory + production costs (direct labor, freight)

– ending inventory

= cost of goods sold

Selling, general, and administrative expenses never belong in cost of goods sold, no matter how essential they are to running the business. These are always ordinary expenses.

The courts don’t care what you call things. In Atkinson v. Commissioner, a taxpayer tried to classify operating expenses as cost of goods sold. The Tax Court rejected this because the costs weren’t directly tied to inventory. As Jeremy notes, “Economic reality controls over labels used on tax returns or financial statements.”

For most businesses, this distinction is about accuracy. But there’s one area where understanding the difference between cost of goods sold and deductions becomes absolutely critical.

When Getting It Wrong Can Cost Millions: The Cannabis Example

IRC Section 280E is tough on cannabis businesses as it allows no deductions or credits for businesses trafficking in Schedule I or II controlled substances. Since marijuana remains Schedule I under federal law, dispensaries can’t deduct rent, utilities, salaries (except those directly tied to inventory), or any other ordinary business expense.

Their taxable income essentially equals their gross income. Except for cost of goods sold.

“Section 280E doesn’t disallow cost of goods sold,” Jeremy explains. “Because cost of goods sold is not an ordinary deduction; it is a reduction of gross income.”

This distinction became the center of Californians Helping to Alleviate Medical Problems (CHAMP) v. Commissioner, a 2007 Tax Court case that Jeremy calls “a really good illustration of why this concept is important.”

CHAMP operated both a medical marijuana dispensary and provided caregiving services for patients. Same business, two revenue streams, completely different tax treatment.

The IRS looked at the business and said it was trafficking in marijuana, Section 280E applies, no deductions allowed. CHAMP argued that costs of acquiring marijuana inventory were cost of goods sold that reduced gross income.

The Tax Court partially agreed. They allowed cost of goods sold, but only for costs directly tied to acquiring marijuana inventory. The dispensary’s operating costs were disallowed under 280E. It also disallowed the caregiving service costs and since caregiving is a service, those costs couldn’t be cost of goods sold anyway.

“The Tax Court allowed cost of goods sold, but only for the inventory-producing activity, only for the merchandising part of the business,” Jeremy clarifies. “Not for the caregiving services.”

This case shows having inventory isn’t enough to sweep all your costs into cost of goods sold. When a business has multiple activities, you have to analyze each one separately. And courts always look at economic substance over whatever labels you use.

Common Mistakes and How to Fix Them

Jeremy shares a frustration many practitioners face: clients who report the same inventory year after year or give suspiciously round numbers.

“We ask for their ending inventory and we get the same number as last year’s ending inventory, or we get round numbers,” he says. A restaurant claiming exactly $1,000 in beverage inventory while doing millions in revenue? “I seriously doubt that it’s an accurate reflection of their inventory.”

For sole proprietors and single-member LLCs, cost of goods sold goes on Schedule C, Part III. Corporations and S-corporations use Form 1125-A. Both forms walk through the same calculation: beginning inventory, plus purchases and production costs, minus ending inventory.

The key is educating clients about proper inventory counts and valuation. This matters for accuracy and for defending the numbers if the IRS asks questions. The substantiation requirements are the same as for any business expense. You must prove costs were incurred, properly classified, and correctly valued.

Jeremy also mentions that inventory valuation methods matter. Businesses can use First-In-First-Out (FIFO), Last-In-First-Out (LIFO), or average cost methods. But consistency is necessary. You can’t switch methods year to year just to get better results.

One final note on the future: if marijuana gets removed from Schedule I, Section 280E would no longer apply to cannabis businesses. But Jeremy cautions this would likely only affect future years. “It’s very unlikely that something like that would happen” retroactively, he explains. For now, the distinction between cost of goods sold and ordinary expenses is critical for every cannabis business.

The Bottom Line for Tax Professionals

If you take away nothing else from this episode, remember cost of goods sold belongs only to manufacturing, merchandising, and mining businesses. A consulting firm with “cost of services” is ordinary expenses. Same for the coaching business tracking direct costs.

“Just because the financial statements report cost of goods sold or cost of sales or cost of services doesn’t mean the tax return should or even can have cost of goods sold,” Jeremy emphasizes.

This isn’t about matching financial statements to tax returns. Cost of goods sold represents a return of capital invested in inventory, not just another expense category. When you get this right, you properly calculate income.

For most clients, fixing this means moving numbers from cost of goods sold to ordinary expenses. When they ask why their return looks different, you now have the framework to explain why accuracy matters more than consistency with an incorrect approach.

For cannabis clients, the stakes are much higher. Under Section 280E, properly identifying cost of goods sold might be the difference between staying in business and closing doors.

Whether you prepare returns for a local retailer or advise a multi-state dispensary, you should understand what cost of goods sold really means, know which businesses qualify, and report costs where they belong based on substance, not convenience.

To dive deeper into the regulations, court cases, and practical examples, listen to the full Tax in Action episode. Jeremy walks through each concept step by step, giving you the technical foundation to turn confusion into competency.

Human Connection Still Beats AI in Accounting Despite What the Headlines Say

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Breaking news dominated a recent episode of The Accounting Podcast as hosts Blake Oliver and David Leary analyzed the Supreme Court’s landmark decision striking down Trump’s global tariffs. But the conversation quickly turned to what this means for accounting firms: a massive opportunity to help clients claim refunds on $133 billion in tariffs already paid.

The episode also digs into why taxpayers are losing trust in AI for tax preparation, how law firms are hiking rates to offset AI-reduced billable hours, and why human connection remains the profession’s secret weapon in an increasingly automated world.

A $133 Billion Opportunity Knocks

“The Supreme Court struck down Trump’s global tariffs in a six to three decision,” Blake announced at the start of the episode, barely containing his satisfaction at having predicted this outcome in previous episodes.

The court ruled that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act doesn’t authorize the president to set or modify tariffs, which are a form of taxation. Chief Justice Roberts, writing for the majority, emphasized that tariffs require clear statutory authorization from Congress, something the emergency powers act doesn’t provide.

But US businesses have already paid $133 billion in these now-invalidated tariffs. And while the court didn’t lay out a specific refund mechanism, those funds are potentially recoverable.

“I think there’s a big opportunity,” Blake said. “Smart accountants are going to jump on this.”

The opportunity mirrors the Employee Retention Credit (ERC) and Paycheck Protection Program (PPP) work that kept many firms busy during the pandemic. Firms will need to help clients identify affected entries, determine liquidation status, quantify refund amounts, and support administrative claims. If accountants charged even a small percentage fee for this service, Blake estimates it could generate “$1 billion to $10 billion in services revenue.”

David warned tariff refund mills will pop up just like ERC mills did, urging accountants to “beat them to the punch” by proactively reaching out to clients who import goods.

The situation remains fluid. Trump announced plans to impose new 10% tariffs under a different authority, using Section 122 of the Trade Act of 1974. But for now, accounting firms have a huge opportunity to deliver value to clients who’ve been paying these tariffs.

Why Taxpayers Are Backing Away from AI

While accountants scramble to understand tariff refunds, they’re also watching taxpayers lose faith in AI for tax preparation.

According to Invoice Home’s latest survey of 2,000 US tax filers, only 37% would consider using AI to file their taxes instead of hiring a professional. That’s actually down from 43% last year, despite all the AI hype.

“I think people are getting burned,” Blake observed. “The more you use AI, the more you recognize its failings.”

The generational breakdown shows younger taxpayers remain more open. Half of millennials and 46% of Gen Z would consider AI tax prep. But even they’re growing skeptical as they gain real experience with AI’s limitations.

Blake has a similarly nuanced relationship with AI. He described using ChatGPT to draft legal agreements with “flawless” results, completing in minutes what used to take hours. Yet he readily acknowledges that taxes are different. “Small errors can compound and create big problems.”

This declining trust should reassure tax professionals worried about being replaced. Taxpayers seem to understand intuitively that tax preparation requires expertise and accountability that algorithms can’t yet provide.

The $3,400-Per-Hour Question

Meanwhile, the legal profession is showing accountants the problem with simply jacking up rates when AI reduces billable hours.

Top partners at elite law firms now charge up to $3,400 per hour, with some niche specialties pushing $6,000. Partner rates jumped 16% last year among the 50 largest firms. Even junior associates can run clients $1,400 per hour.

“If there’s less work, there’s fewer billable hours, and they’ve got to make up the difference somehow,” David acknowledged.

But Blake sees disaster ahead. “Businesses are going to say, wait a minute, why am I paying $3,400 an hour for legal work that’s being done by AI?” He can now draft his own legal agreements using a $30-per-month ChatGPT subscription—work he previously would have paid lawyers to handle.

The absurdity peaked with news that KPMG Australia fined a senior partner $7,000 for using AI to complete an internal AI training exam. The same firm that’s publicly committed to spending $2 billion on AI globally.

“If you know how to use AI to cheat on the test, you’ve passed the AI test,” David pointed out. “Obviously, you have the skills to use the AI.”

The contradiction perfectly captures professional services’ confused relationship with artificial intelligence: desperately embracing it while simultaneously punishing those who use it too effectively.

The Power of Human Connection

The episode’s most compelling segment came from David’s interview with Dawn Brolin about the Accounting Cornerstone Foundation, which helps accountants attend their first professional conference.

The foundation raised about $45,000 last year and sent 11 people to conferences—each one potentially life-changing. But it’s not just about money. They help recipients overcome travel anxiety, select sessions, and find their tribe in the profession.

“We get on a Zoom with them,” Dawn explained. “We talk through their anxieties. We give them travel tips.”

One recipient has since become active on social media, attended more conferences, and regularly sends thank-you letters. His life changed because he met people who understood his challenges.

“AI will never replace human interaction,” Dawn emphasized. “It will never replace the human touch.”

This stands in sharp contrast to how many firms actually treat clients. David described his experience with his own accounting firm. “Subject line: ‘Reminder you have outstanding task.’ And then I open the email in a giant font that says ‘Outstanding Task to Complete.’ It’s a horrible experience. It creates anxiety.”

Compare that to Intuit’s new TurboTax campaign offering free Uber rides to their offices. They understand customer experience in a way many accounting firms don’t.

“Accounting firms focus on their internal processes too much and not the customer experience,” David argued.

Focus Time Is the Real Productivity Crisis

A Hubstaff study cited in the episode found that average workers only get two to three hours of true focus time daily without meetings, messages, or tool-switching.

The productivity struggles “weren’t about effort,” the study found. “It’s about constant disruption.”

Workers use an average of 18 apps each day. Hybrid teams report the least focus time (31%), while in-office teams get slightly more (45%). The differences are smaller than expected, suggesting the problem isn’t location; it’s how we work.

Even AI adoption isn’t helping. Despite 26% of firms now using generative AI daily (up from 3% three years ago), it hasn’t meaningfully changed how employees spend their time.

Looking Ahead

The paradoxes explored in this episode reveal a profession in transition. Taxpayers are losing trust in AI just as its capabilities advance. Law firms are raising rates to offset efficiency gains, creating an unsustainable value proposition. And the most transformative professional experiences still happen through human connection, not algorithms.

Here are the top three takeaways for accountants:

  1. Jump on the tariff refund opportunity before the mills do. This could be the next ERC-sized revenue opportunity for proactive firms.
  2. Don’t follow law firms down the path of inflating rates to maintain partner lifestyles. Clients with access to the same AI tools will eventually revolt.
  3. Invest in human connections and customer experience. Sometimes the most valuable service is simply helping someone find their professional community.

As Dawn reminded listeners, “There isn’t any competition in accounting” when professionals support each other. The same collaborative spirit should guide how the profession approaches AI—as a tool that enables more human connection, not a replacement for it.

Thriving firms use AI for efficiency while doubling down on relationships, advisory services, and the judgment that no algorithm can replicate. Listen to the full episode of The Accounting Podcast for complete coverage of these stories and more insights on navigating the AI-augmented future of accounting.