Tuesday, November 1, 2022

Under The Bus

Lawyers for former President Donald Trump's companies on Monday threw former longtime Chief Financial Officer Allen Weisselberg under the bus during opening statements at a criminal trial over whether the company committed tax fraud.

Weisselberg and two of Trump's companies were indicted in Manhattan last year after prosecutors said the company's compensation to Weisselberg included perks like apartments, luxury cars and private school tuition for his grandchildren that were never reported on his taxes. Weisselberg in August pleaded guilty to 15 charges, including grand larceny, tax fraud and falsifying business records. He agreed to serve five months in prison, pay $1.9 million in back taxes and penalties and agreed to testify at the Trump Organization's trial.

Prosecutors on Monday detailed his offenses and vowed that Weisselberg would give jurors the "inside story of how he conducted this tax scheme."

"This case is about greed and cheating, cheating on taxes," prosecutor Susan Hoffinger said in court, according to Politico. "The scheme was conducted, directed and authorized at the highest level of the accounting department."

Lawyers representing two of Trump's businesses at the trial, meanwhile, threw Weisselberg under the bus and suggested that Trump may be the real victim of the scheme.

"Weisselberg did it for Weisselberg," Michael van der Veen, a lawyer for Trump's payroll company, said in court.

Van der Veen argued that Weisselberg abused the Trump family's trust after 50 years of working for the family.

"Given the decades he was there and the projects he worked on and that he was with this family when times were good and when times weren't so good—he was trusted by everyone, he was trusted to protect this company," he said, according to Mother Jones. "He was like family to the Trump family, and no employee was trusted more than he, but he made mistakes."

He went on to claim that Trump only found out about Weisselberg's efforts to avoid taxes when he was indicted.

by Igor Derysh, Salon |  Read more:
Image: Stephanie Keith/Getty Images
[ed. Uh huh... and didn't they finally bring down Al Capone on tax charges?]

Monday, October 31, 2022


Pike Place Merchant Association, 1991
Photo: markk

Luke Misclevitz's Wild Time Capsules (The Stranger)
Image: Luke Misclevitz via; from the book Talk Louder I Can't Hear You

Why a City without Graffiti Is Not a City

Why a City without Graffiti Is Not a City (The Stranger)
Image: Charles Mudede

"And don't worry about getting lost. Some say it's the only way really to experience a city." Smith is right when he talks about getting lost, for there is always another city alley to take, doorway to enter, park to stroll through or some overlooked or even forbidden quarter of a city to sidle through. The greatest cities are inexhaustible, and not least because they are constantly changing. And when a city stops evolving, its lifeblood freezes and it becomes – as history proves – little or nothing more than a museum showcasing its own past or a cluster of haunting ruins."

"Cities, like dreams, are made of desire and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else."

"The city, then, is never as rational as its founders, patrons, architects, planners, bureaucrats and engineers might have wished it to be. Truly great cities have always been a heady mix of the planned and the unplanned, the rational and the irrational, the dreamlike and the matter-of-fact. A great city today might have a magnificent core of grand central streets, stirring architecture, a comprehensive public transport system running like clockwork, secret sewers going about their sulphurous business untiringly, sane governance, bright schools, comforting hospitals, and all of these underpinned by healthy commerce and adorned by a confident culture. And, yet, the same city would be woven through with the unpredictable worlds of fashion, music, art, cuisine, carnivals, hobbies, cults, clubs.

So behind the walls of the city – Smith has a chapter on these – there is darkness, graffiti, street language, uprisings, religions, ghettos and slums, cathedral-like railway stations, traffic, trade, bazaars, malls, museums, red-light districts and so much else."

City: A Guidebook for the Urban Age by PD Smith – review (The Guardian)

Geno and The Seahawks

Seahawks proved they are for real vs. Giants. Now, let’s see how far they can go (Seattle Times)
Images: Dean Rutz and Jennifer Buchanan
[ed. Great pics (more in the article). Also: Go Geno! What a gem that just needed a chance. As he said, “They wrote me off—I ain’t write back, though"]

Sunday, October 30, 2022

Saturday, October 29, 2022

Technology That Lets Us “Speak” To The Dead Has Arrived. Are We Ready?

My parents don’t know that I spoke to them last night.

At first, they sounded distant and tinny, as if they were huddled around a phone in a prison cell. But as we chatted, they slowly started to sound more like themselves. They told me personal stories that I’d never heard. I learned about the first (and certainly not last) time my dad got drunk. Mum talked about getting in trouble for staying out late. They gave me life advice and told me things about their childhoods, as well as my own. It was mesmerizing.

“What’s the worst thing about you?” I asked Dad, since he was clearly in such a candid mood.

“My worst quality is that I am a perfectionist. I can’t stand messiness and untidiness, and that always presents a challenge, especially with being married to Jane.”

Then he laughed—and for a moment I forgot I wasn’t really speaking to my parents at all, but to their digital replicas.
 
This Mum and Dad live inside an app on my phone, as voice assistants constructed by the California-based company HereAfter AI and powered by more than four hours of conversations they each had with an interviewer about their lives and memories. (For the record, Mum isn’t that untidy.) The company’s goal is to let the living communicate with the dead. I wanted to test out what it might be like.

Technology like this, which lets you “talk” to people who’ve died, has been a mainstay of science fiction for decades. It’s an idea that’s been peddled by charlatans and spiritualists for centuries. But now it’s becoming a reality—and an increasingly accessible one, thanks to advances in AI and voice technology.

My real, flesh-and-blood parents are still alive and well; their virtual versions were just made to help me understand the technology. But their avatars offer a glimpse at a world where it’s possible to converse with loved ones—or simulacra of them—long after they’re gone.

From what I could glean over a dozen conversations with my virtually deceased parents, this really will make it easier to keep close the people we love. It’s not hard to see the appeal. People might turn to digital replicas for comfort, or to mark special milestones like anniversaries.

At the same time, the technology and the world it’s enabling are, unsurprisingly, imperfect, and the ethics of creating a virtual version of someone are complex, especially if that person hasn’t been able to provide consent.

For some, this tech may even be alarming, or downright creepy. I spoke to one man who’d created a virtual version of his mother, which he booted up and talked to at her own funeral. Some people argue that conversing with digital versions of lost loved ones could prolong your grief or loosen your grip on reality. And when I talked to friends about this article, some of them physically recoiled. There’s a common, deeply held belief that we mess with death at our peril.

I understand these concerns. I found speaking to a virtual version of my parents uncomfortable, especially at first. Even now, it still feels slightly transgressive to speak to an artificial version of someone—especially when that someone is in your own family.

But I’m only human, and those worries end up being washed away by the even scarier prospect of losing the people I love—dead and gone without a trace. If technology might help me hang onto them, is it so wrong to try?

by Charlotte Jee, MIT Technology Review |  Read more:
Image: Najeebah Al-Ghadban

Pashk Pervathi
via:

Friday, October 28, 2022

Kim Stanley Robinson: We Need Democratic Socialism

There aren’t many popular writers who take head-on the capitalist system, big social and economic theories, and utopia. Still fewer take an interest in the environmental crisis and the near future it has in store for us. But Kim Stanley Robinson is one of them — a both prolific and political author, famed for his Mars trilogy.

His most recent novel is called The Ministry for the Future, dubbed a work of “cli-fi” — climate fiction. It helps us think about the disasters in front of us, but also what we can do about them. Philippe Vion-Dury of Socialter magazine spoke to the author about ecoterrorism, geoengineering, and the themes that pervade contemporary literature.

PHILIPPE VION-DURY: Your novel doesn’t match classic genres of “utopia” or “dystopia”… it’s not even science fiction really. How would you define your attempt with The Ministry for the Future? Proleptic realism? Fictional Prospective? Some even say it is an essay or a political tract (albeit one that’s eight hundred pages long) turned into a novel. There are, indeed, multiple passages that are clearly meant to inform the reader…

KIM STANLEY ROBINSON: I would insist that The Ministry for the Future is a science fiction novel. It’s a novel, for sure, because the novel is a very capacious form, which can include many other kinds of genres in it, all thrown into the pot to make a kind of stew; and also it’s science fiction, simply because it’s set in the future. I would say science fiction is a genre that divides into three parts: the far future (often called space opera), the near future (proleptic realism, perhaps), and then a third less frequent middle zone in time that I call “future history,” which is say about a hundred to three hundred years in the future; this zone is much rarer, but very interesting, and it’s where I’ve placed many of my novels. But Ministry is near-future science fiction.

There are some famous novels in American literature which make the mixed nature of the form very clear — Moby Dick by [Herman] Melville, and USA by John Dos Passos, which was [Jean-Paul] Sartre’s favorite American novel. These are great novels, beyond my capacities, but they have been inspirational for me in my own work, in particular for 2312 and Ministry. You could say these novels are in the form of a bricolage or heteroglossia, or poly-vocal braids — but you see what I mean. (...)

PHILIPPE VION-DURY: The ambivalence of a certain kind of sci-fi regarding technology is sometimes emphasized: while criticizing technology or it’s possible use, it also strengthens its core position in our vision of the future, its halo of ineluctability. We could say, with the Mars trilogy, that you were doomed to strengthen the belief that one day we will be able to terraform an exoplanet, and why not alter or save Earth, too, by these same means. You also stage geoengineering experiments in The Ministry for the Future, which carry an additional ambivalence: Even if we don’t want to do it, will we be able to keep us from doing it if things go mad? How do you feel about that?

KIM STANLEY ROBINSON: I want to point out that we have been technological for the entire history of our species, and indeed we evolved with technologies (of fire and stone and wood, etc.) to become human in the first place. Any simple criticism of technology as such is a misunderstanding of what humans are: the social primate that uses technology. Homo faber.

So, if the underlying power source for our civilization — a technology — has accidentally poisoned us — which it has — then it’s entirely appropriate to wield other technologies to reverse the damage if we can. Some damage can be reversed (buildup of CO2 in the atmosphere), but other damage can never be reversed (extinctions). Since we’re beginning a mass extinction event, we have to consider all possible actions as things we might want to do while they will still help.

Calling some of these actions “geoengineering” and then defining them in advance as bad actions is not a helpful move at this point. Women’s rights are geoengineering: when women have their full human rights, the number of humans goes down, and there is less impact on the Earth. Once you accept that, the uselessness of the word is made evident. Each move our civilization makes has planetary repercussions, and all are now important. Just think of it that way, please, and avoid all knee-jerk judgments in the service of ideological purity of the individual bourgeois subject holding said opinion. Purity of one’s beliefs is highly overrated.

PHILIPPE VION-DURY: Regarding technology, Ursula Le Guin says it’s “a heroic undertaking, Herculean, Promethean, conceived as triumph, hence ultimately as tragedy.” I’ll quote: “If, however, one avoids the linear, progressive, Time’s-(killing)-arrow mode of the Techno-Heroic, and redefines technology and science as primarily cultural carrier bag rather than weapon of domination, one pleasant side effect is that science fiction can be seen as a far less rigid, narrow field, not necessarily Promethean or apocalyptic at all, and in fact less a mythological genre than a realistic one.” What do you think about that?

KIM STANLEY ROBINSON: That’s all fine, and I loved Ursula and her transformative views, but she would agree with this, I hope: a carrier bag is a technology! So quit with the mythic distinctions and focus on survival of civilization, please, which will be a technological accomplishment, just as the danger was created in part by earlier technological accomplishments.

That said, the real creation of danger comes from capitalism, as Le Guin would also agree with. If technology was deployed for human and biosphere welfare, we would be in good shape even now; but it’s deployed for profit, appropriation, exploitation, and gains for the rich, very often — and so the best good is not accomplished and we are in terrible danger. This is not the fault of technology, but of capitalism, which of course is a systems software, so therefore also a technology — but a better one is justice.

by Philip Vion-Dury, Jacobin |  Read more:
Image: Will Ireland / SFX Magazine / Future via Getty Images

Thursday, October 27, 2022

Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds

[ed. A little overkill but, eh...]

Elon Musk Visits Twitter as $44 Billion Deal Nears Completion

Elon Musk appears to be on track to close his blockbuster $44 billion deal for Twitter.

Mr. Musk, who runs Tesla and SpaceX, visited Twitter’s San Francisco headquarters on Wednesday and tweeted a nine-second video of himself smiling and carrying a porcelain sink into the building.

“Entering Twitter HQ — let that sink in!” he wrote.

Entering Twitter HQ – let that sink in! pic.twitter.com/D68z4K2wq7— Elon Musk (@elonmusk) October 26, 2022

Mr. Musk, the world’s richest man, faces a Friday deadline to complete his purchase of Twitter, according to a judicial ruling. He is expected to attend a variety of meetings this week at the social media company, said three Twitter employees who spoke on the condition of anonymity. He is also set to address Twitter employees on Friday, according to the employees and an internal note from Leslie Berland, the company’s chief marketing officer.

Mr. Musk, 51, also changed his profile on Twitter by describing himself as “Chief Twit” and marking his location as “Twitter HQ.”

by Ryan Mac and Kate Conger, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Jim Wilson/The New York Times
[ed. This feels like some kind of expensive ego trip (with large cultural/media impacts). Reminds me of Ted Turner back in the day. But there are other forms of significant disruption on the media horizon, too... see also: Please stop calling it the ‘newsletter economy’  (Substack); and, 10 Reasons Why I'm Publishing My Next Book on Substack (Honest Broker):]
***
"This kind of concentration of power can’t be healthy for other writers—or for readers. Or for our culture at large. (...)

"I told them that I was initially skeptical about the platform, but a moment arrived when I finally grasped the way Substack empowered me.

“What made the difference for you?” CEO Chris Best asked.

“The lightbulb went on when I saw that Substack was an accelerating platform,” I replied. “I initially thought that I would gain some early subscribers and then growth would flatten. In fact, the opposite occurred—my subscriber growth and impact have accelerated over time. I had no idea this would happen, or in such a dramatic way.”

I started out on Substack attracting around one thousand new subscribers per month. But within a short while I was gaining around one thousand subscribers per week. In other words, not only do I continue to gain an audience on the platform, but the pace at which it grows gets faster and faster all the time.

Below is a mind-blowing chart. A few months ago, I would have told you that the best decision I made in expanding my audience was getting into direct contact with my readers on Twitter. But check out this comparison between my Twitter followers and Substack subscribers."
(Honest Broker)

Jimi Hendrix photographed by Terence Donovan for the Observer Magazine at his flat in London, August 1967.
via:

The Greatest Evil Is War

Ashleigh Banfield, who was ousted by NBC after speaking critically of the Iraq war, said in the lecture that got her fired that Americans did not understand what the war was really like because they were seeing sanitized images that didn’t show the reality of civilian casualties. Journalists embedded with U.S. troops, for instance, would show soldiers firing M16s into a building, but:
“You didn’t see where those bullets landed. You didn’t see what happened when the mortar landed. A puff of smoke is not what a mortar looks like when it explodes, believe me. There are horrors that were completely left out of this war. … Was this journalism or was this “coverage”? … [We got] a glorious wonderful picture that had a lot of people watching and a lot of advertisers excited about cable news. But it wasn’t journalism because I’m not sure that we in America are hesitant to do this again, to fight another war, because it looked like a glorious and courageous and so successful, terrific endeavor. We got rid of a horrible leader, … But we didn’t see what it took to do that.”
When we hear, for instance, that the United States has bombed a wedding party, that sounds awful, but the word “bombed” can do nothing to convey what it is like for human beings who are faced with seeing their loved ones in pieces in front of them on what was supposed to be a joyful day. The true “horror” (a word we use constantly because there is none other, although it is so inadequate as to be almost useless) is literally indescribable. The reality of what it means for the United States to do something like this is so hideous that anyone who was there and saw it first-hand would likely be traumatized for life.
 
I don’t think there’s much understanding in this country of just how much real warfare differs from depictions on TV news, in films, and in video games. Nobody would deny that it does differ, but when I went to the World War II museum, what I saw was a strange depiction of a war that didn’t have any actual blood or gore. The story of the war wasn’t even really that upsetting.

Chris Hedges, who spent decades as a war correspondent for the New York Times, is deeply troubled by our collective lack of understanding of what war actually does to people. His new book The Greatest Evil is War is an effort to show just what a monstrous thing war is and to make readers determined to eliminate war from the Earth for good. (...)

Hedges shows us the darkest parts of war, the parts left out of Call of Duty. He introduces us, for instance, to Jessica Goodell, a Marine in the Mortuary Affairs unit, whose job it was in Iraq to collect and process the remains of dead marines. Goodell had to go around the scenes of explosions picking up bits of corpses. She saw how real people, with letters and photos of their families in their pockets, were turned by IEDs into nothing but piles of meat, to be scooped into bags. (“We would open a body bag and there was nothing but vaporized flesh. There were not four hands or a whole leg in a bag. We tried to distribute the mush evenly throughout the bags. We had the last body bag come in. We opened it up and it was filled with the heads. I looked at four before looking away. Not only did we have to look at them, we had to pick them up and figure out who it belonged to. The eyes were looking back at us.”).

Goodell’s experience never aired as part of the cable news coverage showing the glorious American entry into Baghdad. But when George W. Bush sent young people into that war, that’s what he was sentencing them to. His decisions meant some of them would become heads in a bag, and others would have to sort and process those heads. Many, many more Iraqis would meet similar violent deaths thanks to Bush. Similar fates have now been inflicted on thousands of Ukrainians and Russians by Vladimir Putin.

The dead are not the only ones affected, of course. Hedges also looks at the veterans and their families who must suffer with lifelong trauma from exposure to extreme violence, or who live with debilitating physical injuries. The casualties of war do not appear in U.S. armed forces recruitment material, and Donald Trump infamously specified he didn’t want “wounded guys” in his military parade, because they wouldn’t look good. But Hedges wants us to come face to face with those who have burns across 90 percent of their bodies, who are paralyzed and disfigured. As he writes:
“If we really saw war, what war does to young minds and bodies, it would be harder to embrace the myth of war. If we had to stand over the mangled corpses of the schoolchildren killed in Afghanistan or Ukraine and listen to the wails of their parents, the clichés about liberating the women of Afghanistan or bringing freedom to the Afghan or Ukrainian people would be obscene. Therefore, war is carefully sanitized. Television reports give us the visceral thrill of force and hide from us the effects of bullets, tank rounds, iron fragmentation bombs, and artillery rounds. We taste a bit of war’s exhilaration, but are protected from seeing what war actually does, its smells, noise, confusion, and most of all its overpowering fear… The wounded, the crippled, and the dead are, in this great charade, swiftly carted offstage. They are war’s refuse. We do not see them. We do not hear them. They are doomed, like wandering spirits, to float around the edges of our consciousness, ignored, even reviled. The message they tell is too unpleasant for us to hear.”
by Nathan J. Robinson, Current Affairs |  Read more:
Image: Nathan J. Robinson

Wednesday, October 26, 2022

The Husband Stitch

(If you read this story out loud, please use the following voices:
Me: as a child, high-pitched, forgettable; as a woman, the same.
The boy who will grow into a man, and be my spouse: robust with his own good fortune.
My father: Like your father, or the man you wish was your father.
My son: as a small child, gentle, rounded with the faintest of lisps; as a man, like my husband.
All other women: interchangeable with my own.)
*
In the beginning, I know I want him before he does. This isn’t how things are done, but this is how I am going to do them. I am at a neighbour’s party with my parents, and I am seventeen. Though my father didn’t notice, I drank half a glass of white wine in the kitchen a few minutes ago, with the neighbour’s teenage daughter. Everything is soft, like a fresh oil painting.

The boy is not facing me. I see the muscles of his neck and upper back, how he fairly strains out of his button-down shirts. I run slick. It isn’t that I don’t have choices. I am beautiful. I have a pretty mouth. I have a breast that heaves out of my dresses in a way that seems innocent and perverse all at the same time. I am a good girl, from a good family. But he is a little craggy, in that way that men sometimes are, and I want.

I once heard a story about a girl who requested something so vile from her paramour that he told her family and they had her hauled her off to a sanitarium. I don’t know what deviant pleasure she asked for, though I desperately wish I did. What magical thing could you want so badly that they take you away from the known world for wanting it?

The boy notices me. He seems sweet, flustered. He says, hello. He asks my name.

I have always wanted to choose my moment, and this is the moment I choose.

On the deck, I kiss him. He kisses me back, gently at first, but then harder, and even pushes open my mouth a little with his tongue. When he pulls away, he seems startled. His eyes dart around for a moment, and then settles on my throat.

– What’s that? he asks.
– Oh, this? I touch my ribbon at the back of my neck. It’s just my ribbon. I run my fingers halfway around its green and glossy length, and bring them to rest on the tight bow that sits in the front. He reaches out his hand, and I seize it and push it away.

– You shouldn’t touch it, I say. You can’t touch it.

Before we go inside, he asks if he can see me again. I tell him I would like that. That night, before I sleep, I imagine him again, his tongue pushing open my mouth, and my fingers slide over myself and I imagine him there, all muscle and desire to please, and I know that we are going to marry. (...)
*
My parents are very fond of him. He is a nice boy, they say. He will be a good man. They ask him about his occupation, his hobbies, his family. He comes around twice a week, sometimes thrice. My mother invites him in for supper, and while we eat I dig my nails into the meat of his leg. After the ice cream puddles in the bowl, I tell my parents that I am going to walk with him down the lane. We strike off through the night, holding hands sweetly until we are out of sight of the house. I pull him through the trees, and when we find a patch of clear ground I shimmy off my pantyhose, and on my hands and knees offer myself up to him.

I have heard all of the stories about girls like me, and I am unafraid to make more of them. There are two rules: he cannot finish inside of me, and he cannot touch my green ribbon. He spends into the dirt, pat-pat-patting like the beginning of rain. I go to touch myself, but my fingers, which had been curling in the dirt beneath me, are filthy. I pull up my underwear and stockings. He makes a sound and points, and I realize that beneath the nylon, my knees are also caked in dirt. I pull them down and brush, and then up again. I smooth my skirt and repin my hair. A single lock has escaped his slicked-back curls, and I tuck it up with the others. We walk down to the stream and I run my hands in the current until they are clean again.

We stroll back to the house, arms linked chastely. Inside, my mother has made coffee, and we all sit around while my father asks him about business.

(If you read this story out loud, the sounds of the clearing can be best reproduced by taking a deep breath and holding it for a long moment. Then release the air all at once, permitting your chest to collapse like a block tower knocked to the ground. Do this again, and again, shortening the time between the held breath and the release.)

by Carmen Maria Machado, Granta | Read more:
Image: Photography courtesy of Internet Archive Book Images

Exxon’s Exodus: Employees Have Finally Had Enough of Its Toxic Culture

"... a Bloomberg Businessweek investigation involving interviews with more than 40 current and former employees (many of whom requested anonymity because Exxon hasn’t authorized them to speak publicly), as well as reviews of dozens of internal documents, reveals one overriding reason talent is fleeing: a culture that’s increasingly out of step with the world around it. Those interviewed describe an organization trapped in amber, whose insular and fear-based culture—once a beacon of corporate America—has become a drag on innovation, risk taking, and career satisfaction. Although many expressed pride at working for an industry leader, they were also frustrated by how slow it was to invest in some of the energy industry’s biggest breakthroughs over the past decade, including shale oil and low-carbon technologies, making it a place where the best and brightest no longer want to spend their best years. “I was bored at my job,” says Avery Smith, who earned more than $100,000 a year as a data scientist right after graduating from college and quit last year, echoing what many other former employees told Businessweek. “I was pretty fed up with not innovating.”

Exxon’s performance ranking system, which pits employees against each other, dominates the day to day. Subordinates are told not to speak out against their bosses in meetings for fear of being placed at the bottom of the rank and pushed out. Employees are reluctant to raise problems or speak freely about environmental issues. Senior managers too often promote people who look and sound like themselves at the expense of technical experts willing to deliver hard messages, and some employees of color say they’ve been marginalized. “Agreeability to senior leadership has become more important than capability,” says one executive who left the company last year after two decades. “Unfortunately this accelerated during the pandemic.” (...)

Soon after Rex Tillerson became CEO of Exxon in 2006, he decided to build an office complex in Texas to match its newfound status as the biggest company in the US. Tillerson and his executives would remain in Exxon’s “God Pod,” a nickname for the headquarters in suburban Dallas. But about four hours away, the new Houston campus would become the company’s largest hub, accommodating more than 10,000 people.

Tillerson spared no expense, and little did he need to. As the world melted down from the financial crisis, Exxon made $45 billion in a single year, then the biggest profit of any company in US history. The campus would have two lakes; its low-rise, glass-walled buildings would house a food court and child-care facilities. The piece de resistance was a 10,000-ton cube that appears to hover over a plaza below, built to show off Exxon’s engineering prowess. (...)

Exxon’s modern culture began with Lee Raymond, a chemical engineer who became CEO in the early 1990s. He earned the nickname “Iron Ass” for his acerbic tongue, uncompromising demands, and public reprimands of senior managers, according to Private Empire: ExxonMobil and American Power by Steve Coll. The typical Exxon man—and Exxon’s workforce is two-thirds male—“is not an eccentric, a maverick, or an entrepreneurial type,” read a Texas Monthly article from 1978. “He’s not a flashy or sloppy dresser. He’s bright, aggressive, good with numbers, less good with people.” The same is still largely true today among Exxon’s higher ranks. An average career length is about three decades, and no outsider had been hired into the modern Exxon’s inner sanctum of top executives until last year.

Engineering is Exxon’s lifeblood. Its top recruiting grounds are mainly state schools with prestigious engineering programs—Texas A&M, Georgia Tech—rather than the Ivy League. Salaries could start at $100,000, and benefits include a traditional pension, a relic in corporate America. A graduate joining Exxon could easily travel and relocate almost anywhere in the world. Engineers in their 20s could find themselves working on refinery upgrades along the Gulf Coast or deep-water drilling in Brazil or liquefied natural gas in Qatar. By their mid-30s they could be involved in developing major projects, and by their 40s they could be earmarked as a future executive, formally assisting a vice president in the God Pod. By age 55, even if they’d risen only to middle management, that pension would kick in, enabling a comfortable early retirement. (...)

But ascending through Exxon with technical acumen and smarts has never been enough. Successful recruits must follow rules and work within a hierarchy. Acronyms guide much of daily life. The OIMS, or Operations Integrity Management System, governs existing operations including production sites and refineries; new projects are developed through EMCAPS, or ExxonMobil Capital Projects Management System. Safety procedures are sacrosanct. A rule requiring employees to hold the handrail while walking on stairs, primarily to avoid falls at dangerous sites such as offshore platforms or chemical plants, is rigorously enforced even in offices. License-plate-reading traffic cameras on Houston office grounds can enforce a strict 25-mph speed limit. Employees are prohibited from talking on the phone while driving, even if doing so legally, hands-free. (...)

The company’s long-standing performance review process was a remnant of the “rank and yank” system, a blunt management tool originated by General Electric Co. CEO Jack Welch in the 1980s. Over the past decade companies including Microsoft, Goldman Sachs Group, and even GE have abandoned it because, even for their cutthroat cultures, the system became too severe.

by Kevin Crowley, Bloomberg Businessweek |  Read more:
Images: Saratta Chuengsatiansup for Bloomberg Businessweek; Ernest Scheyder/Reuters
[ed. I got to experience Exxon's management style up close for a number of years and wouldn't be surprised if there's an extensive file somewhere in the organization. Rigid, efficient, authoritarian, disciplined, aggressive, prideful... pick your adjective, Exxon is all of those (and more, which this article does a good job of explaining).]

Tuesday, October 25, 2022

The Crypto Story


There was a moment not so long ago when I thought, “What if I’ve had this crypto thing all wrong?” I’m a doubting normie who, if I’m being honest, hasn’t always understood this alternate universe that’s been percolating and expanding for more than a decade now. If you’re a disciple, this new dimension is the future. If you’re a skeptic, this upside-down world is just a modern Ponzi scheme that’s going to end badly—and the recent “crypto winter” is evidence of its long-overdue ending. But crypto has dug itself into finance, into technology, and into our heads. And if crypto isn’t going away, we’d better attempt to understand it. Which is why we asked the finest finance writer around, Matt Levine of Bloomberg Opinion, to write a cover-to-cover issue of Bloomberg Businessweek, something a single author has done only one other time in the magazine’s 93-year history (“What Is Code?,” by Paul Ford). What follows is his brilliant explanation of what this maddening, often absurd, and always fascinating technology means, and where it might go. —Joel Weber, Editor, Bloomberg Businessweek

via: The Crypto Story (Bloomberg)

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Ford Motor’s Use of the Tackle Box Defense

Last month, Georgia trial lawyer James Butler secured a $1.7 billion punitive damages verdict in a case involving Ford trucks with dangerously weak roofs that would crush down on occupants during a rollover wreck.

The jury awarded the Hills $24,030,500 in compensatory damages.

The jury returned the verdicts for Kim and Adam Hill for the wrongful deaths of their parents, Voncile and Melvin Hill, and for pain and suffering by their parents after the rollover wreck of their 2002 Ford F-250 on April 3, 2014. (...)

During the first trial, which ended in a mistrial, the Hills had submitted evidence of 69 prior similar wrecks with rollover, roof crush, and killed or injured victims.

In the four years since the 2018 mistrial, more people were killed or injured in such wrecks, and at the second trial plaintiffs submitted evidence of ten more such wrecks.

Ford declined to say how many more other similar incidents were known to the company. 

The punitive damage verdict is the largest verdict by far in Georgia history – eclipsing the previous verdict of $457 million in the Six Flags case 24 years ago.

Ford was represented by William Withrow of Troutman Pepper, Mike Boorman and Phillip Henderson of Watson Spence, Paul Malek of the Huie firm from Birmingham, and Michael Eady of Texas.

It was Butler’s eighth verdict of $100 million or more.

That’s more $100 million plus verdicts than any other trial lawyer in America.

And he was facing down Ford lawyers that Butler says were using the tackle box defense.

Tackle box defense?

You mean like a fishing tackle box?

“Yes. They throw these lures in front of the jury in the hopes that one juror will bite on one lure and another juror will bite on another,” Butler told Corporate Crime Reporter in an interview earlier this month.

“And in Georgia, you have to have a unanimous verdict. The jury gets in the jury room. There is a juror or two with some doubt in their mind and you end up with a compromised verdict. It works like a charm.”

“We had a case in Athens, Georgia in 2005 against Ford involving a Mercury Marquis with a rear gas tank. The car was hit in the rear. There was an instant explosion. And a lady was burned alive. Ford did the same thing before the jury. And we had one juror who held out against us. She cut a deal with the other eleven jurors to give more in compensatory damages, but said no to punitive damages. That’s an example of how it works.”

“Ford, which has no defense for these roofs and never offered any defense for these roofs, violated a whole bunch of orders in limine, mainly trying to blame other people, primarily Mr. Hill. Finally, the judge just declared a mistrial.”

What did Ford say about Mr. Hill?

“Everything you can think of. The worst was when Ford’s lawyer got before a jury holding a toxicology report, which he highlighted and put notes all over. And he was showing that to a jury. He was insinuating that Mr. Hill was under the influence of alcohol. The toxicology report said he was negative for alcohol. Mr. Hill was a Baptist teetotaler. He never had a sip of alcohol in his life. But Ford got up in front of a jury and insinuated he was DUI.” (...)

Was there any cost-benefit memo in this case?

“Ford hasn’t done a written cost-benefit analysis since that experience in the Pinto case. But you don’t have to put it in writing. The math is real simple. You can do it in your head or you can verbalize it.”

“They made 5.2 million of these trucks. When they first designed the roof, beginning in about 1994, they did a full design of the roof. And then they had a cost containment directive to cut costs. And they then took metal out of the roof. They admitted they saved $100 per truck. Right there, you have $520 million in added profit.”

“The calculation is real simple. There is no way that settling all of the cases brought by victims is going to cost more than $520 million. The cost benefit analysis is very simple.”

“How long did it take me to say it? Thirty seconds? And that’s just the $520 million. They probably saved a lot more than that. By 2005, Ford engineers in the Enhanced Roof Strength Program (ERSP) for the Super Duty trucks came up with a roof that was four and a half times stronger and cheaper to build. And Ford didn’t use that until 2017.”

by Editor, Corporate Crime Reporter |  Read more:
Image: uncredited
[ed. See also: How lawyers became sadists (Pluralistic); David Enrich on Big Law Jones Day and the Corruption of Justice; and, Justice Department to Announce Change in Corporate Crime Enforcement (CCR).]

Monday, October 24, 2022

Yoho Tsuda, Tree with Yellow Leaves, 1980