The Devil's Casino_ Friendship, Betrayal - Vicky Ward [35]
year, and profits fell by over half. In July, the employees who could afford to do so
bought Lehman stock; Fuld sensed that at $14 the purchase would be a steal. He bought a
lot.
By the end of October, Fuld owned more than 179,000 Lehman shares, the majority
purchased at $25.54 per share; Pettit owned more than 132,000 shares. It wasn't a tactic
they could use forever, but it worked in the short term; and over the long term, it made
them all very rich, at least on paper. "We had the last laugh," says Ronald Gallatin.
"The stock did trade poorly initially," says Cecil, "in part because there hadn't been a
market created for the stock, really, as a new company, but also because these shares
were given to American Express shareholders, who really wanted to own American
Express." Those folks quickly dumped their Lehman stock, devaluing it.
Adding to the new company's problems: In 1994 the Federal Reserve tightened interest
rates, which, as a general rule, impacts the price of bonds negatively, and thereby
weakened Lehman's fixed income division. Its share price fell 30 percent in just five
months, from $20 per share when it first went public in May to $14 per share in October.
(In a final kick to the 14 or 15 executives on Lehman's operating committee, Golub had
made them buy the stock at book value. They had to pay $20 per share when it was
trading for $14.)
Less than a year after Lehman went public, Moody's would downgrade its rating.
It was time for Fuld, Pettit, Gregory, Tucker, Lessing, and their band of merry men to do
what they did best--roll up their sleeves and go to war.
According to the methodical John Cecil, Lehman had to do four things if it hoped to
survive.
Above all, it had to cut costs--there was still a vast amount of fat, including luxuries such
as the barbershop and shoe-shine stand on the executive floor, and Lehman was paying
out over half of its revenues in compensation and another 41 percent in "nonpersonnel
expenses."
Not only was cutting costs "the right thing to do," Cecil argued, but it would also buy
them time and capital to grow their other businesses. Still, there was the inevitable pushback. One person joked, "When the milk came out of the refrigerator and they replaced it
with dairy creamer, we knew it was a bad market."
Cecil also decreed that the nepotism had to stop. Family members and friends could no
longer be hired unless they actually merited a spot. (Steve Lessing, in particular, was
infamous for placing an inordinately large number of alumni from Fairfield University,
his alma mater.)
The new recruiting strategy was largely led by Joe Gregory and Pettit, and only the best
would be hired. According to Tom Tucker, "the best" did not mean "the elite." In other
words, Harvard MBAs were welcome in areas such as investment banking, where
Harvard MBAs were likely to do well. In other areas, like bond sales, Lehman was
looking for people who were hungry and could work in a team.
The third goal was to be competitive in all capital market areas, globally, beginning with
Europe and Asia.
The fourth and most important part of Cecil's survival strategy was to fix the culture of
the firm. "Doing the right thing for the firm" and "One firm" had to be more than
platitudes. Everybody had to buy into that ethos if Lehman was to become the place Dick
Fuld, Chris Pettit, Joe Gregory, Steve Lessing, and Tom Tucker wanted it to be.
Cecil thought this was crucial for many reasons, but chiefly because he knew that a
securities house could be ruined at the whim of a single trader. The only way to stop
"selfish " or "foolish" acts of trading, as he called them, was to get people to always
consider the firm's return on equity (ROE)--and not just their bonuses--before acting. In
pursuit of this Cecil introduced the restricted stock unit (RSU)--as a form of payment to
every "firm member."
The higher up you were, the higher the percentage of your bonus paid in company stock.
Top-tier executives received