When I logged on to AOL to check my e-mail last week, I was more than a little
surprised to find myself confronted not with one of those annoying pop-up ads
for a cheap subscription to Teen People or the now-standard promo for the latest
Warner Bros. movie, but with the faces of three smiling men. The caption read:
‘The Greediest Execs of All: They made billions as investors lost big.’
Intrigued, I clicked on the accompanying link and was transported to "The
Greedy Bunch," Fortune magazine's exhaustive evisceration of America's most avaricious
executives -- featuring blood-boiling stories such as "You Bought. They Sold."
and "The Cash Out Kings."
Here was AOL, currently under SEC investigation for questionable accounting
practices, eagerly redirecting me to AOL Time Warner corporate sibling Fortune
for a stinging expose. And there, front and center among the greedy executives,
was square-jawed AOL Time Warner Chairman Steve Case. Who said synergy is dead?
I’m guessing this wasn’t what Case and Gerald Levin had in mind at that famous
press conference -- which now seems decades ago -- announcing their great media
colossus. Yet the prime placement given the greedy executives’ story shows just
how fully it has captured the public imagination. Who needs Dr. Evil when you've
got Ken Lay, Bernie Ebbers, Dennis Kozlowski and the seemingly endless Dickensian
parade of other corporate villains?
Traditionally, declaring class warfare has been an ineffective political strategy
in America -- are you listening Al Gore? Most Americans, rather than resenting
the wealthy, aspire to one day share their lofty status. It's why this country's
ever-widening division into two nations has had such little effect on Washington.
But Americans also have a deeply ingrained sense of fairness. The scandalous
CEOs have pushed us too far -- and finally are reaping the whirlwind of public
fury.
Being rewarded -- even over-rewarded -- for a job well done is as American
as rescued miners selling their stories to Disney. We don't begrudge Vin Diesel
his $20 million payday for XXX 2, and we even smile indulgently at the $250 million
A-Rod gets for playing baseball -- it's the genius of the market, we tell ourselves,
it's supply and demand. But making billions while your shareholders lose their
shirts, and your workers lose their jobs, sticks in our craw.
The Fortune list of the Top 25 Cash-Out Kings tells the sorry tale of rapacious
CEOs who, between them, pocketed an astounding $10.7 billion, and all while the
companies they led crashed and burned. Singing the gospel of its new-found populist
religion, Fortune, which spent the better part of the last decade exalting this
same corporate culture, described the CEOs' rampage as an obsession with becoming
"immensely, extraordinarily, obscenely wealthy."
CEO salaries went up 442 percent during the ‘90s. In 1980, the average CEO
made 42 times more than the average blue-collar worker. In 1990, it was 85 times
more. In 2000, it was a staggering 531. Meanwhile we have 8.3 million people out
of work and millions of middle-class Americans whose retirement plans have shriveled
away. This time, it’s not just the disenfranchised who are getting the short end
of the economic stick. It's Mr. and Mrs. Working Stiff.
Which is why the current epidemic of infectious greed has the potential to
ignite an explosion of populist outrage -- one with the power to remake our democracy.
The question is: Who will light the fuse?
Clearly not our leaders in Washington. Our elected representatives are so
compromised, such an integral part of the scandal, that if they set off a populist
petard, they’d only be hoisted by it themselves. Those currently in power have
proven themselves chronically unable to bite the corporate hand that feeds and
feeds and feeds them.
So, instead of real reform, we get watered down initiatives, slap on the wrist
fines, showy arrests -- and the “honey, come look at this” sight of Democratic
Party chairman Terry McAuliffe attempting to ride the corporate scandals to a
Democratic victory in November. That's Terry McAuliffe, the same guy who turned
$100,000 and his friendships with Bill Clinton and Gary Winnick into an $18 million
windfall from the now-bankrupt Global Crossing. The same Terry McAuliffe who earlier
this month proudly unveiled the final drawings of the DNC's new, state-of-the-art
$28 million dollar headquarters, financed entirely through massive -- and soon
to be illegal -- soft money donations. Not exactly the poster boy for Populist
Outrage.
Among the biggest donors to the DNC building fund is Sen. Jon Corzine, the
former CEO of Goldman Sachs, who made a mint on Wall Street helping create some
of the same banking and accounting schemes corporate America has been using to
bilk and defraud shareholders. But now, of course, he’s a crusader for reform
and a champion of the little guy. Or, at least, of those angry little guys who
vote.
It's astounding how brazenly these guys switch sides, as if all they have
to do is change jerseys and we’ll believe they’re suddenly on our team. Watching
Corzine and John Castellani, the president of The Business Roundtable, on Meet
the Press, sternly wagging their fingers, I wondered: Where were they in the ‘90s
when, you know, all this was going on? After all, Fortune's findings were based
on an analysis of CEO stock sales filed with the SEC, filings that are available
to anyone who chooses to look for them. Why weren't they -- and why, for that
matter, wasn't Fortune -- crying foul about these things ten, five or even one
year ago? Were they unable to find the SEC in the phone book? Or were they too
caught up in the irrational exuberance to notice?
As our collective anger collides head-on with our political system's intransigence,
we're stuck with a classic case of an irresistible force meeting an immovable
object. Something has got to give. In the past, it’s been us. But it doesn’t have
to be.
We can't count on a white knight riding to the rescue -- although I have to
confess to a hope-over-experience fantasy that John McCain will finally abandon
his dollar-rich but morally bankrupt party and mount an Independent steed. But,
other than that, look around at the political landscape -- 100 senators, 435 members
of the House, 50 governors. Is there anyone -- anyone -- who strikes you as capable
of breaking the logjam, of tapping into the American people's longing for fairness
and justice and equity?
I hear silence. The spark will have to come from outside the current political
gene pool.
Will it be, say, a younger, charismatic Ralph Nader? A Ross Perot without
the corporate baggage or bats in the belfry? A real life version of Jimmy Stewart's
Jefferson Smith, who arrives on the scene funded by $1 donations from paperboys
and soda jerks, or, these days, video store clerks and cubicle drones?
My guess is none of the above. Instead, it will be a critical mass of individuals
and groups mobilized by the injustice given flesh and blood by the current scandals.
This time we have a story to organize around, a story that has it all: narrative
power, colorful crooks, sympathetic victims, juicy details (who can forget Kozlowski’s
$6,000 shower curtain?), political intrigue, global fallout. A story so compelling
that even our part-of-the-problem media giants can’t ignore it.
The scandal that is. The real solutions they’ll try to ignore for as long
as they can. But beneath the media radar screen, people are organizing across
the country. From established organizations engaging in grassroots work like Public
Citizen, Common Cause, Global Exchange, the Center for Public Integrity, the Pension
Rights Center, Workingassetsradio.com, and United for a Fair Economy to younger
groups like Citizen Works and Junction-City.com to Jim Hightower’s traveling road
show, “The Rolling Thunder Down-Home Democracy Tour."
"We have the chance," Scott Harshbarger, president and CEO of Common Cause,
told me, "of combining the traditionally disenfranchised with a new investor class
that now sees pensions and college funds disappearing. This is a unique opportunity
to organize and politicize them."
While an over-reliance on market-based solutions may have gotten us into this
mess, here’s hoping that the growing demand for fairer, saner, and more democratic
answers for America’s problems may increase their supply.
We were told again and again during the ‘90s that our unprecedented prosperity
was fueled by consumer spending. Well, the time has come for these shoppers to
leave the malls and take to the streets -- to go from invigorating our economy
to reinvigorating our democracy.
Copyright © 1998-2002 Christabella, Inc.
###