Peter Friedman
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Ruling Imagination: Law and Creativity

October 11th, 2009 | Class Warfare, legal history, propaganda, regulation, technology and law, Uncategorized | Add your comment

Why are you working harder for less? Scientific Management, management consulting, and leveraged buyouts – a century of being conned.

I described leveraged buyouts the other day — in connection with the demise of the maker of the Simmons Beauty Rest Mattress — as a symptom of why we don’t trust Wall Street. You might wonder why, if I’m right, we allow people again and again to “buy” companies by borrowing enormous sums of money — in essence, we allow the buyers to suck money out of successful companies for their own benefit in the same way we allowed home owners in a rising housing market to suck money out of their homes by means of home equity loans.

It’s perfectly clear why we allowed homeowners to do that — all involved figured the market would continue to rise at least until they could make their money and get out. But why do we let this keep happening on a much larger scale on Wall Street?

I hadn’t considered the question specifically at the moment I wrote that post about Simmons. It was enough for me that throughout the 25 years of my career both practicing (in connection with, among many things, leveraged buyouts) and teaching I’ve seen the phenomenon again and again. But this week I came across Jill Lepore‘s article “Not So Fast” in the New Yorker, an article which asks the question, “Scientific management started as a way to work. How did it become a way of life?” Lepore’s article is about the rise in the early 20th Century of “Scientific Management,” the foundation of modern “Management Consulting.” Scientific Management was created by Fredrick Winslow Taylor, who, as Lepore writes, sold himself as someone able to make businesses more efficient:

Speedy Taylor, as he was called, had invented a new way to make money. He would get himself hired by some business; spend a while watching people work, stopwatch and slide rule in hand; write a report telling them how to do their work faster; and then submit an astronomical bill for his services. He is the “Father of Scientific Management” (it says so on his tombstone), and, by any rational calculation, the grandfather of management consulting.

The problem, as Lepore notes, is that Taylor was a fraud, and Taylorism’s grandchild, management consulting, is as well.

What does all this have to do with leveraged buyouts? Plenty. The entire rationale of the leveraged buyout is that the buyers can take a company with a lot of unrealized value and realize it. How? By making the company more “efficient.” The debt taken on to buy the company (and to reward the “buyers” with profits along the way) will, the argument goes, easily be paid off given the as yet unrealized efficiencies. Thus, we’ve had decades of “downsizing” (massive layoffs), “consolidations” (elimination of competing businesses), and arguments that advances in productivity brought about by our new technologies would redound to the benefit of all (when the only benefit would redound to whoever could pull the money out quickest).

We’ve been had.

At least we have one consolation — none of us have been alone in being conned. The focus of Lepore’s work is Louis Brandeis, someone I’ve always thought was a very bright guy and who against all evidence remained convinced his entire life that Scientific Management would benefit the working person:

Neither unions nor businesses have lived up to Brandeis’s optimism. “If the fruits of Scientific Management are directed into the proper channels,” he wrote, “the workingman will get not only a fair share, but a very large share, of the industrial profits arising from improved industry.” Lately, that share has been going to shareholders and C.E.O.s. Home and work, separated since the first stirrings of the Industrial Revolution, have been growing back together again: BlackBerry on the nightstand, toaster in the photocopy room. Efficiency was meant to lead to a shorter workday, but, in the final two decades of the twentieth century, the average American added a hundred and sixty-four hours of work in the course of a year; that’s a whole extra month’s time, but not, typically, a month’s worth of either happiness minutes or civic participation. Eating dinner standing up while nursing a baby, making a phone call to the office, and supervising a third grader’s homework is not, I don’t think, the hope of democracy.

You’ll also find worthwhile on this topic the New York Times video series entitled “Flipped: How Private Equity Dealmakers Can Win While Their Companies Lose