“The American citizen must be made aware that today a relatively small group of people is proclaiming its purposes to be the will of the People. That elitist approach to government must be repudiated.”—American businessman, philanthropist, and Treasury Secretary William Simon (1927-2000), A Time for Truth (1978)
Twenty-five
years ago this week, William Simon died at age 73. In both the public
and private sectors, he appealed to a generation of free-market conservatives
with warnings like the.
At the
time, Simon identified this group as liberals who were threatening the
foundations of America with a leviathan central government. But, nearly a
half-century after the peak of his influence, with this bestseller, it is more
apparent that this “elite” consists of financial sector titans who possess the
arrogance of Gilded Age robber barons but all too little of the physical
infrastructure they built.
I was
reminded of Simon this past week after watching Drop Dead City, the recent
documentary about New York City’s 1975 bankruptcy crisis. As Gerald Ford’s
Treasury Secretary, Simon vehemently opposed bailing out the city, then, after
the President reversed his earlier decision refusing aid, held out for more
punitive terms, with treasury loans carrying an interest rate of 1 percent
higher than the market rate.
All of
this was pretty rich considering that, before entering government service in
the Nixon Administration, Simon had been an extremely well-compensated bond
trader—and he hadn’t raised a peep then about the extremely flimsy financial
instruments and budget tricks used by New York City and Governor Nelson
Rockefeller, then on a construction spree so wild that he was said to have an
“edifice complex.”
It was all
of a piece with the position maintained by the financial industry in general in
these years, noted Village Voice investigative reporter Jack Newfield:
“The banks
never warned the public about excessive borrowing, because they were busy
making millions of dollars in commissions on underwriting the city's paper. The
bankers made a pusher's profits, while the city slipped into addiction like a
junkie. Then the banks suddenly ordered the city to withdraw cold turkey, or
mug its own citizens."
A year
after leaving the Ford administration to become a consultant for an
investment‐banking house, Simon wrote A Time for Truth, part of a
boomlet in conservative economics bestsellers that found receptive readers
as the GOP sought a return to power, such as Milton Friedman’s Free to
Choose and George Gilder’s Wealth and Poverty.
He
reputation for straight talking with observations that shaded from being
outspoken to outrageous (e.g., the “the hostile collectivism unleashed in the
60's” set the stage for Watergate, not Nixon’s paranoia). Some of his more
ardent admirers even hoped that Ronald Reagan would select him as his running
mate for the 1980 Presidential campaign.
It’s too
bad that Simon’s penchant for straight talking wasn’t matched by straight
dealing.
No, I’m
not saying Simon was a swindler. But it was more than a little disingenuous
that, in the 1980s, the treasury secretary who had denounced using other
people’s money and debt financing made staggering amounts of money with the
same two practices in the private sector.
In 1982,
Simon and his partner, using only $330,000 each of their own money, borrowed
$79 million from Barclays Bank and General Electric to engineer a leveraged
buyout (LBO) of Gibson Greeting Cards. Eighteen months later, they flipped the
company, taking it public again and selling it for $270 million.
This
transaction was a key moment in the Reagan era upsurge of private equity,
the investment strategy of acquiring ownership stakes or control in companies not
publicly traded. From a mere 24 in 1980 in the US, it has grown to more than
17,000 today. It was all part of an era of laissez-faire capitalism that, in
many ways, has lingered on to today.
The
problem was that the U.S. economy moved decisively away from manufacturing,
according to Bad Money, by the late political and economics commentator
Kevin Phillips. “LBOs and debt speeded manufacturing’s ebb, inasmuch as goods
producers constituted a disproportion of companies affected, and when they were
stripped of some assets and loaded up with debt, blue-collar jobs and futures
were usually at risk.”
You could
also call it “Simonomics,” to signify the influence of this conservative icon
who hailed the genius of the marketplace. The influence of private equity on
politics spread beyond Republicans to Democrats, with donors from these companies
contributing to candidates who aligned with conservative positions on taxation,
regulation, and economic growth.
Away from
his work, Simon was a devout Catholic active in philanthropy, and a foundation
he established continues to provide scholarships for inner-city students. One
wishes he would have given more prayerful consideration to papal encyclicals
such as Rerum Novarum and Mater et Magistra that advocated for social
progress and justice.
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