From "Other People's Money"
I found these speeches interesting. The background: in the film Other People's Money, Lawrence Garfield is know as Larry the Liquidator, who buys up and liquidates businesses. His target in the film is a wire company run by nice folks, business has been in the family for years. So they have a shareholders meeting to vote whether or not Garfield becomes chairman or Andrew Jorgenson, who's family has always owned the company, will stay chairman.
Andrew Jorgenson:
Well, it’s good to see so many familiar faces, so many old friends. Some of you I haven’t seen in years. Thank you for coming. Bill Coles, our able president, in the annual report has told you of our year; of what we’ve accomplished, our need for further improvements, our business goals for next year and the years beyond.
I’d like to talk to you about something else. I want to share with you some of my thoughts concerning the vote that you’re going to make and the company that you own. This proud company which has survived the death of its founder, numerous recessions, one major depression, and two world wars, is in imminent danger of self destructing. On this day. In the town of its birth.
There is the instrument of our destruction. I want you to look at him in all of his glory, Larry the Liquidator. The entrepreneur of post industrial America playing god with other people’s money. The robber barons of old at least left something tangible in their wake. A coal mine, a railroad, banks. This man leaves nothing, he creates nothing, he builds nothing, he runs nothing. And in his wake lies nothing but a blizzard of paper to cover the pain.
Oh, if he said, “I know how to run your business better than you,” that would be something worth talking about. But he’s not saying that. He’s saying, “I’m gonna kill you ‘cause at this particular moment in time you’re worth more dead than alive.” Well, maybe that’s true, but it is also true that one day this industry will turn. One day when the Yen is weaker, the Dollar is stronger. Or when we finally begin to rebuild our roads, our bridges, the infrastructure of our country, then demand will skyrocket. And when those things happen, we will still be here, stronger because of our ordeal, stronger because we have survived, and the price of our stock will make his offer pale in comparison.
God save us if we vote to take his paltry few dollars and run. God save this country if that is truly the wave of the future. We will then have become a nation that makes nothing but hamburgers, creates nothing but lawyers, and sells nothing but tax shelters. And if we are at that point in this country, where we kill something because at the moment it’s worth more dead than alive...well, take a look around, look at your neighbors, look at your neighbor. You won’t kill him will you?…no. It’s called murder and it’s illegal. Well this too is murder, on a mass scale; only on Wall Street they call it “maximizing shareholder value.” And they call it legal. And they substitute dollar bills where a conscience should be.
Damn it, a business is worth more than the price of its stock. It’s the place where we earn our living, where we meet our friends, dream our dreams. It is in every sense the fabric that binds our society together. So let us now at this meeting say to every Garfield in the land, “here we build things, we don’t destroy them. Here we care about more than the price of our stock. Here we care about people.”
Lawrence Garfield:
Amen. And amen. And amen. You have to forgive me; I’m not familiar with the local custom. Where I come from, you always hear an amen after a prayer. ‘Cause that’s what you just heard; a prayer. Where I come from that particular prayer is called The Prayer for the Dead. You just heard the prayer for the dead, my fellow stockholders, and you didn’t say amen.
This company is dead. I didn’t kill it, don’t blame me. It was dead when I got here. It’s too late for prayers. For even if the prayers were answered, and a miracle occurred, and the Yen did this, and the Dollar did that, and the infrastructure did the other thing we would still be dead. You know why? Fiber optics. New technologies. Obsolescence. We’re dead all right, we’re just not broke. And do you know the surest way to go broke? Keep getting an increasing share of a shrinking market. Down the tubes, slow but sure.
You know, at one time there must have been dozens of companies making buggy whips. And I’ll bet the last company around was the one that made the best god damn buggy whip ya ever saw. Now how would you like to have been a stockholder in that company?
You invested in a business and this business is dead. Let’s have the intelligence, let’s have the decency to sign the death certificate, collect the insurance and invest in something with a future. Ahh…but we can’t, goes the prayer. We can’t because we have responsibility. A responsibility to our employees, to our community. What will happen to them? I got two words for that. Who cares?
Care about them? Why? They didn’t care about you. They sucked you dry. You have no responsibility to them. For the last ten years this company bled your money. Did this community every say, “We know times are tough. We’ll lower taxes. Reduce water and sewer. Check it out; you’re paying twice what you did ten years ago. And our devoted employees who have taken no increases for the past three years are still making twice what they made ten years ago.
And our stock? One sixth what it was ten years ago. Who cares? I’ll tell you. Me.
I’m not your best friend. I’m your only friend. I don’t make anything? I’m making you money. And lest we forget, that’s the only reason any of you became stockholders in the first place. You want to make money. You don’t care if they manufacture cable, fried chicken, or grow tangerines. You want to make money. I’m the only friend you’ve got. I’m making you money.
Take the money. Invest it somewhere else. Maybe…maybe you’ll get lucky and it will be used productively. And if it is, you’ll create new jobs and service for the economy, and god forbid, even make a few bucks for yourselves.
And if anybody asks, tell them you gave it the plant. And by the way, it pleases me that I’m called Larry the Liquidator. You know why fellow stockholders? Because at my funeral you’ll leave with a smile on your face and a few bucks in your pocket. Now that is a funeral worth having.
Andrew Jorgenson:
Well, it’s good to see so many familiar faces, so many old friends. Some of you I haven’t seen in years. Thank you for coming. Bill Coles, our able president, in the annual report has told you of our year; of what we’ve accomplished, our need for further improvements, our business goals for next year and the years beyond.
I’d like to talk to you about something else. I want to share with you some of my thoughts concerning the vote that you’re going to make and the company that you own. This proud company which has survived the death of its founder, numerous recessions, one major depression, and two world wars, is in imminent danger of self destructing. On this day. In the town of its birth.
There is the instrument of our destruction. I want you to look at him in all of his glory, Larry the Liquidator. The entrepreneur of post industrial America playing god with other people’s money. The robber barons of old at least left something tangible in their wake. A coal mine, a railroad, banks. This man leaves nothing, he creates nothing, he builds nothing, he runs nothing. And in his wake lies nothing but a blizzard of paper to cover the pain.
Oh, if he said, “I know how to run your business better than you,” that would be something worth talking about. But he’s not saying that. He’s saying, “I’m gonna kill you ‘cause at this particular moment in time you’re worth more dead than alive.” Well, maybe that’s true, but it is also true that one day this industry will turn. One day when the Yen is weaker, the Dollar is stronger. Or when we finally begin to rebuild our roads, our bridges, the infrastructure of our country, then demand will skyrocket. And when those things happen, we will still be here, stronger because of our ordeal, stronger because we have survived, and the price of our stock will make his offer pale in comparison.
God save us if we vote to take his paltry few dollars and run. God save this country if that is truly the wave of the future. We will then have become a nation that makes nothing but hamburgers, creates nothing but lawyers, and sells nothing but tax shelters. And if we are at that point in this country, where we kill something because at the moment it’s worth more dead than alive...well, take a look around, look at your neighbors, look at your neighbor. You won’t kill him will you?…no. It’s called murder and it’s illegal. Well this too is murder, on a mass scale; only on Wall Street they call it “maximizing shareholder value.” And they call it legal. And they substitute dollar bills where a conscience should be.
Damn it, a business is worth more than the price of its stock. It’s the place where we earn our living, where we meet our friends, dream our dreams. It is in every sense the fabric that binds our society together. So let us now at this meeting say to every Garfield in the land, “here we build things, we don’t destroy them. Here we care about more than the price of our stock. Here we care about people.”
Lawrence Garfield:
Amen. And amen. And amen. You have to forgive me; I’m not familiar with the local custom. Where I come from, you always hear an amen after a prayer. ‘Cause that’s what you just heard; a prayer. Where I come from that particular prayer is called The Prayer for the Dead. You just heard the prayer for the dead, my fellow stockholders, and you didn’t say amen.
This company is dead. I didn’t kill it, don’t blame me. It was dead when I got here. It’s too late for prayers. For even if the prayers were answered, and a miracle occurred, and the Yen did this, and the Dollar did that, and the infrastructure did the other thing we would still be dead. You know why? Fiber optics. New technologies. Obsolescence. We’re dead all right, we’re just not broke. And do you know the surest way to go broke? Keep getting an increasing share of a shrinking market. Down the tubes, slow but sure.
You know, at one time there must have been dozens of companies making buggy whips. And I’ll bet the last company around was the one that made the best god damn buggy whip ya ever saw. Now how would you like to have been a stockholder in that company?
You invested in a business and this business is dead. Let’s have the intelligence, let’s have the decency to sign the death certificate, collect the insurance and invest in something with a future. Ahh…but we can’t, goes the prayer. We can’t because we have responsibility. A responsibility to our employees, to our community. What will happen to them? I got two words for that. Who cares?
Care about them? Why? They didn’t care about you. They sucked you dry. You have no responsibility to them. For the last ten years this company bled your money. Did this community every say, “We know times are tough. We’ll lower taxes. Reduce water and sewer. Check it out; you’re paying twice what you did ten years ago. And our devoted employees who have taken no increases for the past three years are still making twice what they made ten years ago.
And our stock? One sixth what it was ten years ago. Who cares? I’ll tell you. Me.
I’m not your best friend. I’m your only friend. I don’t make anything? I’m making you money. And lest we forget, that’s the only reason any of you became stockholders in the first place. You want to make money. You don’t care if they manufacture cable, fried chicken, or grow tangerines. You want to make money. I’m the only friend you’ve got. I’m making you money.
Take the money. Invest it somewhere else. Maybe…maybe you’ll get lucky and it will be used productively. And if it is, you’ll create new jobs and service for the economy, and god forbid, even make a few bucks for yourselves.
And if anybody asks, tell them you gave it the plant. And by the way, it pleases me that I’m called Larry the Liquidator. You know why fellow stockholders? Because at my funeral you’ll leave with a smile on your face and a few bucks in your pocket. Now that is a funeral worth having.