Tag Archives: Trigiani

Taxes, bonuses and the crisis in leadership

Driving home last night, I listened to a San Francisco talk radio program dissect the the tax problems plaguing the Obama administration.  There are many perspectives floating around.  Sneaky politicians and lobbyists.  Arrogance.  Elitism.  Poor vetting.

I think it's a much bigger issue:  that the party which began in 1990s Washington and had satellite orgies in major financial centers also had an impact on the conscience, and thus the quality, of our nation's leaders.  We need to wrap our heads around the fact that the most professional administration we've had in two decades still cannot manage to find people with leadership credentials who have not ignored their responsibilities as far as the IRS is concerned — and goodness knows what else.

That's not to say that these tax snafus were deliberate attempts to steal from fellow taxpayers — which is what makes the whole situation even worse.  It's this:  our focus on ourselves and our own wallets and our own prestige clearly has made us sloppy and ignorant of the details that define ethical behavior.

This is why I strongly support the curb on executive pay for the confounded bunch that have just gotten truckloads full of taxpayer cash.  They clearly do not understand the correlation between their stratospheric living standards and the failure of the institutions which they lead.  So a grownup, in the person of no less than the President of United States, is finally stepping in to teach the schoolyard bullies, snobs and ignoramuses in the bunch just where to start in cleaning up the mess they made:  by looking in the mirror and learning how to live within a new mean.

Obituaries and eulogies

Among other types of essays and articles, I save obituaries and eulogies.  That's because so many of the latter contain nuggets of wisdom or something thought provoking — a point that takes the reader to a new place.

NEW YORK magazine published three remembrances of Paul Newman, all of which are excellent.  My favorite, though, is from fellow writer Richard Russo.

There was a pivotal scene in the film Nobody’s Fool [which
Russo wrote] when Paul’s character, Sully, and his son Peter are
sitting in a car. Sully’s trying to explain why he bailed out so early
in the boy’s life, about what an abusive father his own father was. In
the screenplay, Sully went on for about a page. Paul said, “We don’t
need all that.” I said, “How’s the viewer supposed to react to the past
if it’s not explicated?” He said, “I’ll know what to do.” So I cut it
at about half. I thought I’d done my job, until I saw it afterwards.
He’d cut it down to “He was a big man. Your mother was just a little
bit of a woman. And, boy, could he make her fly.” That was all that was
left, but with the camera pushing in on his face, all that history was
in that haunted look. Paul told me, “Don’t rob me of my memory. That’s
all I have. If you share my memory with the viewer, you’re stealing it
from me, and I’ve got to have that.”

All
the time, actors want more lines, juicier lines. Paul understood that
less was more. For him, the words were often so much less important
than the physicality, the gestures. He was a dream of a physical actor.
Even as he was just eating up the camera, he never showed the slightest
interest in eating the camera.

Maybe Mr Russo tells us this story for the same reason I like it so much.  One of the first things you learn as a writer is to match your adoration for words with a ruthless ability to cut them.  Russo was not only open to that necessity in the story he relates, he was open to hearing what Mr Newman could teach him.

There is much more here, too.  The true professional retains his presence in the room not just by what he says but by what he doesn't say.  One of the most distressing — and downright annoying — aspects of the new democratization of media is the amount of unedited, unfiltered drivel that gets passed around as insight.  If we all apply the lesson taught by Paul Newman in this story, we will find the eloquence we crave.

Make sure to read the other two eulogies, by actor Philip Seymour Hoffman and director Sam Mendes, too.  They are just terrific.  And most rewarding for fans who always knew that the most attractive thing about Mr Newman's eyes were the thoughts behind them.
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Perspective: Economic priorities

Last evening, I was the guest of UBS for a presentation by Michael P Ryan, the investment bank's head of wealth management research for the Americas.  Mr Ryan provided an in-depth analysis of the markers of this recession/depression and his take on what we can expect going forward.

The biggest surprise of the evening was the Q&A period.  There were probably 150 people there, and every question, save one, was not about what we had just seen but about what to do with one's investments.  The one different question was about how investors could muster up the courage to invest the way they know they should — how not to give in to the emotions at play right now.  Still an investment question, but at least the questioner alluded to what caused UBS to fly Mr Ryan in from New York to do the local event.

I know.  Grow up, Mary.

I got to ask the last question.  I had been posting Mr Ryan's key points on Twitter throughout his talk, and one of my Twitter pals, a former UBS employee, gently reminded me that UBS had one of the bigger failures in Europe around the sub-prime mortgage and credit default swaps issues.  So my question was, given what had happened within banking, what did Mr Ryan see the banking industry doing to give investors the incentive and confidence to manage today's stress and move forward?

The answer was candid, in three points.  Two of them did not pertain to banking action:  government policy and the passage of time.  The third point did.  I'm paraphrasing:  the industry needs to return to the long-term view of measuring growth and seeking gain.

I remember the first time I was exposed to the pressure a public company must manage when reporting quarterly results.  I thought it was nuts.  How in the world do you grow at 20 percent every quarter? And why was that the chief measurement of a company's value, quarter after quarter?

Here's the thing.  It's not just the bankers driving these ridiculous metrics.  It's us.  When the seven to ten questions put in front of a leading research analyst are all about "my money" in the face of a global financial crisis, I think it's safe to say that we still have a long way to go in getting a grip on this situation.  Like whether we're becoming a socialist nation or what we are teaching our kids about saving. 

We have become addicted to that 20-percent-a-quarter-dividend-increase.  It's time we wrapped our heads around the fact that the only safe harbor from the devastating yet predictable end of our obsession with 20 percent growth is being happy with reasonable growth and credit with strings attached.

On the McKinsey leadership model for women

This summer in Silicon Valley saw a lot of conversation about the quality of visibility women now enjoy here.

While many women and the companies they lead or help to manage work invisibly to produce — and thus contribute to the community at large — they do so without calling attention to their gender.  Some prefer it that way and mark it as a sign that women are finally integrating seamlessly into management ranks.  I tend to be one of these people, and most of the women I respect are.

Then we have the segment of women at work who want to flex muscle in the limelight.  This ranges from provocative dress to provocative behavior.  On the way to workplace equality, they have taken a detour.  In the worst misplaced person scenarios, they get used by the folks I call the master bloggers.  These are the boys who have achieved some success and even more of a following — thanks mainly to what I believe is their desire to act out and outrageously, validating the geek myth of socially inept males finally getting some attention.  We are patiently waiting for this to get old.

Meanwhile, THE MCKINSEY QUARTERLY featured an article on how talented women thrive in business, based on research the consulting firm just completed.  As I read the article, it struck me that the leadership model McKinsey articulates — based upon interviewing women in leadership positions — is something every organization should consider for their executive teams. It's also something every person should consider as he or she shapes a career.

McKinsey calls it "centered leadership" and identifies five dimensions:  meaning, managing energy, positive framing, connecting and engaging.

Of great interest, too, are what McKinsey calls the pre-conditions for success of the centered leadership model:  intelligence, tolerance for change, desire to lead and communication skills.

What's significant for women here?  As we have injected gender balance into management ranks, we also have delivered a more useful, productive approach to leading people.  We are adding depth.  This is not just about the female perspective — this is about adding value via skills developed in the background, out of the limelight, from time served in the ranks and lessons learned through sharp powers of observation.

The McKinsey centered leadership model is something we in Silicon Valley must study as we build our companies from the ground up.  Startups and small businesses everywhere have more leverage than ever to improve the model for running companies.  I hope Silicon Valley will become headquarters for centered leadership.  And Ground Zero for responsible communication via the social media invented here. 

From a free market capitalist who is a market positioning veteran: Market reasons to curb executive compensation

The salaries, compensation packages and parachutes negotiated by today's corporate executive teams — especially in the financial services industry — have been appalling, repugnant, avaricious, arrogant and rapacious for years.  Now we know, with terrifying certainty, that they do very little to sustain a company's success or stave off failure. 

Here are the image and marketing issues executive teams and boards should consider while we await the terms of the taxpayer bailout of Wall Street.

  • Exorbitant packages contribute to an unnecessarily high cash burn rate — whether or not your company is hugely successful, it could be even more successful without the burden of executive over-payment.
  • The extra people you could employ and programs you could deploy with that excess cash you get could mean the difference between your products' mediocrity and excellence.
  • They reward reputation and networks at the expense of current, ongoing performance, especially when your parachutes remain unaffected by lackluster or disastrous results.  Without punishment for abject failure, there's no incentive to succeed.
  • They distract stakeholders — regulators, analysts, media, shareholders, customers, employees — from what you really want them to see about your companies' performance and sustainability.
  • They are a MAJOR public relations sinkhole. They invite your stakeholders to ignore your finer qualities and talents.  They invite your detractors to feast on your carcass.
  • The day of exorbitant packages is over, anyway.  You will look like a prince or princess if you lead the way and promote responsibility in the crafting of exec comp at your company. 

CEOs, if you think executive compensation is appropriate across the board, if you think folks like me are wrong, come forward and tell us why.  But if you agree that compensation is out of whack, then show us what you're doing about it. 

Either way, you have a huge opportunity to communicate with the marketplace and generate great good will for your companies and your leadership.  Talk to us.