Five hundred years ago, Sir John Harington, the inventor of the modern flush toilet, said: ‘Treason doth rarely prosper… for if it prosper, none dare call it treason.’ With the oleaginous toadyism that lubricates most organizations, there are indeed few who care to challenge whoever is on the throne, whether it is the president of the US or the CEO of a major corporation. But they will all be quick to cheer whoever stabs the leader in the back and takes their place.
So, despite all the respectful prose about them while in office, how can modern CEOs ensure their place in history when they leave, let alone when they’ve gone to that big boardroom in the sky? In ancient Rome, it was customary for a slave to stand behind the great military commanders during their triumphal parades and whisper in their ears: ‘Remember, you are only mortal.’ The slave who drew the short straw for this assignment probably ended up in the arena shortly after, since the ego of Roman commanders exceeded even that of modern captains of industry.
For centuries, Rome has been considered the height of civilization, and its leaders heroes for all ages. Yet the Empire practiced brutal military aggression against its neighbors. Resistance provoked Roman orators into paroxysms of patriotic rhetoric about the savagery of these natives resisting civilization, as the invading legions killed and enslaved their people – or kept them for mass crucifixions or to feed to the lions in the Coliseum.
Two millennia later, official history remembers the emperor Trajan as one of the best of the Caesars. But his troops sacked cities and carried away wagonloads of loot from his unprovoked annexation of what is now Romania. Julius Caesar, who ethnically cleansed much of Gaul, is a household name.
In contrast, most of the super-CEOs who now haunt the business pages will totally disappear from consciousness within a few years of their retirement. So how can a modern-day Wall Street Lord of the Universe preserve his or her name for posterity? Obviously, many of them pass the first test for posthumous fame – which by imperial precedent is the tendency to take pride in doing harm to others while enriching one’s own coffers. On the other hand, can you imagine a Ken Lay monument, for example, erected in the center of Houston, showing his success in looting companies, destroying livelihoods and bribing legislators? It wouldn’t really cut the historical mustard.
My answer is a reform of corporate governance – every board should have a compulsory cynic on board to cut executives down to size. I am prepared to offer my services for a modest fee, with (preferably not backdated) options, tied to how much I can reduce executive compensation. I would also advise them that the secret to immortality is ostentatious philanthropy. Ford, Rockefeller and Carnegie were unscrupulous, strikebreaking financial finaglers, but giving away their wealth to eponymous foundations has preserved their good names for a century or so. Or consider Bill Gates – if he was just the CEO of Microsoft, his memory would arguably be destined for the flush toilet of history. But I would predict that thanks to his endowment, the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation will still be around long after the man himself has passed on.
Warren Buffet, on the other hand, has modestly left his fortune to a foundation named after someone else. Now that should make the history books.
