Enron

Risky business

How did Enron break into the elite Wall Street world of bankruptcy insurance?

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Risky business

Congressional investigations, class-action lawsuits, campaign contributions and 401K reform. Paper shredding, books cooking and wives crying for “Today Show” cameras.

Enron’s collapse has generated so many huge stories that it’s been easy to miss one of the most ironic and self-revealing of all its myriad ventures. Enron, now famous for the largest corporate bankruptcy in American history, was also a big player in the relatively new market for buying and selling bankruptcy protection.

Enron’s whiz kids dabbled in a wide variety of high-finance maneuvers. But its presence in the market for what are technically called “credit derivatives” was eye-opening — or should have been, to anyone paying attention. The credit derivative game is dominated primarily by huge banks — just seven institutions handle 96 percent of the multibillion-dollar business.

With good reason. Credit derivatives are designed to minimize risk. They are, in their simplest form, insurance policies on other assets. By buying a credit derivative, a bank, for instance, will pay another entity to assume the risk of a loan that it fears will not be paid back. If its hunch proves correct, the seller of protection will have to cover the loan. Since credit derivatives carry the potential for sudden, huge payouts, buyers rarely want to purchase credit derivatives from a risky provider. So sellers tend to be big and rich enough to handle large defaults without going bankrupt.

So what was a supposed energy trader from Texas doing in a market that epitomized Wall Street? According to derivatives experts, the Houston company bluffed and cajoled its way to the table, pretending to be bigger and more stable than it really was. At the same time, it used its formidable lobbying power in Washington to ensure that federal oversight over precisely this type of market was to all practical purposes nonexistent, and then proceeded to screw it up on a vast scale.

Operating without a net — or a watchdog — Enron trotted into one of the world’s most complex financial arenas and made a colossal, billion dollar mess, inserting risk into a market designed specifically to avoid it. According to Standard & Poor’s, the credit rating agency, Enron’s collapse has thrown at least $3 billion worth of credit derivatives contracts into limbo. So far, Enron’s bankruptcy hasn’t set off a wider financial panic, but according to some experts, the credit derivatives fiasco nevertheless reveals larger systemic problems. The company’s push into credit derivatives not only proves that it’s possible to dupe some of the best financial minds in the world, but it also exposes potentially dangerous loopholes in the U.S.’s financial regulatory system. The SEC regulates the investment banks that typically dominate credit derivative trading. But Enron wasn’t a bank — so it escaped supervision.

Because derivatives markets are easy to enter and disclosure rules are weak, some experts believe that it’s only a matter of time before another rogue derivatives player surfaces, fails and sends even greater shock waves through the system.

“There are other potential time bombs ticking,” says Michael Greenberger, a law professor at the University of Maryland and the former director of trading and markets at the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). “We don’t know how many other companies like Enron are out there.”

The term “derivatives” is used to describe a class of financial contracts that are derived from another asset and priced according to that asset’s value. Also known as a form of “risk management,” over the past 20 years derivatives trading has become increasingly popular on Wall Street as a way to “hedge” risk; to protect yourself from an investment bet that goes sour or from swings in interest rates or currency prices. Over the course of those 20 years, the debate on whether to regulate such trading has been one of the more abstruse battlegrounds between Washington and Wall Street — and Enron has been a major player in that fight.

One of the first derivatives to gain popularity in the newly deregulated financial markets of the 1980s was the “interest-rate swap,” which takes its value from underlying loans. Interest-rate swaps allow a bank that has, for example, a majority of variable rate loans to protect against the risk of falling interest rates — which would decrease borrowers’ payments and thus bank profits — by “swapping” the loans for fixed rate debts held by another bank. The actual loans never change hands; the contract allows the banks to trade only the interest-rate risks, with the price of the deal being determined by the size of the loans and the probability of interest-rate fluctuations. If it looks like the Federal Reserve will raise rates, the fixed-rate bank will pay a higher premium. But if the Fed signals a cut, the bank with a high level of variable rate loans will pay a larger fee.

New kinds of derivatives are constantly being dreamed up by everyone from Nobel Prize laureates to MBAs fresh from the finest business schools. It is hardly an exaggeration to call derivatives the cutting edge of capitalism, the fanciest way humans have yet devised to gamble for big bucks. Credit derivatives, specifically, are one of the more recent products of this high-finance drive to innovate. For a company like Enron, which considered itself able and willing to trade anything, bankruptcy protection was just another commodity.

Dreamed up about 10 years ago in order to protect banks from risky borrowers, credit derivatives extended the concept of risk trading to all forms of credit risk, not just interest rates. They grew from a simple mix of reality and logic: “When you have a portfolio of loans, some are strong and some are weak,” says Kathryn Dick, director of treasury and market risk for the Office of the Comptroller of the Currency, a division of the Federal Reserve. “Trying to keep a good balance, that’s what started the thinking that became credit derivatives.”

Large investment banks, led by J.P. Morgan, began to tout the idea in the early ’90s. The first “products” focused specifically on bank loans. “Credit default swaps,” for example, gave a bank in the Midwest that had mostly manufacturing loans — which are especially sensitive to business cycles — the ability to insure its debt by paying a New York bank to take on the risk of default. If the borrower couldn’t pay, the New York bank ponied up the cash.

Each player in this equation has an incentive to make a deal. The mediator, or trader, bringing both sides together picks up a percentage of the price paid; the firm buying protection gains the ability to extend more credit without holding onto the risk, while the firm selling protection brings in extra cash by agreeing to cover for loans that it thinks it won’t have to cover.

Banks also enjoy other advantages from the use of credit derivatives. If a bank sells a loan to another bank — an older way to get rid of risk — it then must inform the borrower that the loan has been picked up by another party. But because credit derivatives are not actual assets but rather meta-level contracts, lenders can keep the loans on their books without telling borrowers what’s going on behind the scenes.

“One of the reasons that banks like credit derivatives is because of the way that the financial world has evolved,” says Dick. “Banks now have very large corporate clients. They don’t want to keep all of that exposure, but they want to maintain a relationship with the client. Credit derivatives let them do that.”

Even with these incentives, many banks at first hesitated to buy or sell protection on their own loans, bonds or other securities. The pricing models were untested. The laws surrounding the new product remained murky. The Commodities Futures Trading Commission had exempted credit derivatives and other swaps from federal oversight in 1993, but because each contract was tailor-made to the deal at hand (instead of traded on a formal or over-the-counter exchange), the language of the contracts tended to vary too much for the bankers’ tastes. It wasn’t clear what would hold up in court in the case of a “credit event” like a bankruptcy.

“The problem with the market then [in the mid-'90s] was that the contracts were all different,” says Mickey Mandelbaum, a spokesman for Morgan Stanley, which began researching credit derivatives in 1994. “There was a big joke that the busiest person on the derivatives desk was the lawyer.”

Big investment banks eventually managed to standardize the contracts. J.P. Morgan and Credit Suisse launched credit derivatives products lines in 1997. Others followed, and in 1999 the International Swaps and Derivatives Association (ISDA), the industry’s trade group, issued formal rules. The market began to quickly swell. In 1997, $55 billion in debt was covered by credit derivatives contracts; by the fourth quarter of 1999, that figure topped $287 billion.

The massive run-up spawned a recapitulation of age-old debates. Proponents of financial innovation argue that products like credit derivatives are nothing less than tools of progress — market-oriented weapons that protect against instability and risk. But critics contend that new, untested markets always give con men and unscrupulous wheeler-dealers more room to hide.

Altogether, by the end of 1997, derivatives contracts represented more than $25 trillion in real assets. The question of whether the government should regulate the market or let it grow, untethered by red tape, began to heat up, fueled by some high-profile derivatives failures.

“Congress started saying that we need to regulate this stuff,” recalls Greenberger, who was then the director of trading and markets at the CFTC. “Dingell [Rep. John Dingell, D-Mich., a ranking member of the House Commerce Committee] wanted to introduce legislation creating a derivatives exchange.”

Enter Enron. The energy trader was fast leaving behind its commodity trading and delivery roots, and moving ever more aggressively into the world of pure finance. Enron, unsurprisingly, opposed the formalization of derivatives regulation. In April 1993, aggressive Enron lobbying had encouraged the CFTC to grant a broad exemption to the trading of energy derivatives, in which electricity dealers and wholesalers sign contracts that let both sides hedge against future price swings. But energy derivatives were just one front on which Enron’s executives were advancing.

“They had an exciting agenda,” said one East Coast finance professor who did some consulting for the company. Some of the brightest minds in finance and risk management wanted to work with Enron because, he said, “they were trying to move forward.”

Wall Street also opposed derivatives legislation, but for slightly different reasons. The big banks argued that new laws would be too costly. Derivatives were not like the futures contracts used to lock in prices on grain and other commodities, they argued, so the CFTC should leave them alone. The SEC seemed willing to go along.

There was one dissenting voice. Brooksley Born, a Clinton appointee who became the head of the CFTC in 1996, refused to accept the industry’s stance. “In late 1997 and early 1998, she said the emperor has no clothes,” says Greenberger. “She said that derivatives are futures contracts and that the CFTC had jurisdiction.”

On May 7, in a 62-page report, the CFTC announced that changes in the derivatives market “require the commission to review its regulations.” Born called for public comment and hearings.

But Enron refused to buckle. Protests from Wall Street’s major players drew more attention than Enron’s opposition, but a July 4, 1998, Washington Post article revealed that Enron was forging ahead at that very moment in an attempt to create an entirely new market for “weather derivatives” — in which contracts on energy supplies would be dependent on bets as to whether the weather was hot or cold. Such contracts would be exactly the kind of new product that CFTC regulators would likely examine.

A handful of legislators, including Sen. Phil Gramm, R-Texas, kept the forces of regulation at bay. For Gramm, derivatives deregulation was a family affair: His wife, Wendy Gramm, chairwoman of the CFTC from February 1988 to January 1993, had earlier shepherded through the exemption that (in April 1993) let Enron trade energy derivatives without federal oversight. (A few months after passage of the exemption, she quit the CFTC and took a seat on Enron’s board of directors.) Enron also found a set of allies in the U.S. Treasury Department, the Federal Reserve and the SEC. All three agencies, though headed by Born’s fellow Clinton appointees, scorned the new CFTC proposal. They even issued a rare joint statement declaring that “we have grave concerns about this action and its possible consequences. We seriously question the scope of the CFTC’s jurisdiction in this area.”

Congress, caught in the middle of a regulatory turf war that involved some of the country’s most generous campaign donors, also declined to show interest in regulation. It maintained this stance even as, in September 1998, the huge hedge fund Long Term Capital Management warned the Fed that, in part because of its derivatives strategy, it was about to go under — and threatened to drag several major banks down with it.

But despite the link between LTCM and derivatives, calls for regulation fell on deaf ears. After organizing a bailout of LTCM, Fed chairman Alan Greenspan — along with SEC chairman Arthur Levitt; William J. Rainer, Born’s replacement at the CFTC; and Lawrence Summers, secretary of the treasury — penned a 42-page report that favored less, rather than more regulation.

Congress followed suit, passing the Commodity Futures Modernization Act in December 2000.

“The CFMA made it clear that this kind of trading would be exempted,” Greenberger says. “Only a handful of congressmen and senators probably realized that they were enacting this deregulatory provision.”

Brooksley Born “had it just right,” and should be considered a hero, adds Martin Mayer, a finance expert and author of more than a dozen books on the U.S. banking system. “The whole political establishment, from Rubin and Greenspan and Levitt and Phil Gramm, turned on her.”

And Enron forged on, stepping up its involvement in derivatives markets dramatically. The company’s spokespeople failed to return calls for comment; Born also refused to comment because her law firm now represents several Enron creditors. But observers argue that the CFMA essentially let Enron move forward with its plan to aggressively court derivatives buyers and sellers.

By the end of 2000, a year after the launch of Enron’s Web-based trading site EnronOnline, the company’s derivatives business had more than quintupled in a single year. Assets increased from $2.2 billion to $12 billion; derivative-related liabilities increased from $1.8 billion to $10.5 billion.

It’s not clear how much of this growth came from credit derivatives, although S&P’s finding of $3.3 billion in exposure at Enron suggests that it played a major role. But regardless, Frank Partnoy, a law professor at the University of San Diego who cited Enron’s derivative growth figures in testimony before Congress on Jan. 24, argues that Enron should never have been able to become such a powerful derivatives player. The financial and government institutions that protect the financial markets shouldn’t have let the company gain so much as a foothold, he says.

“The collapse of Enron makes plain that the key gatekeeper institutions that support our system of market capitalism have failed,” he told the Senate Committee on Governmental Affairs. “The institutions sharing the blame include auditors, law firms, banks, securities analysts, independent directors and credit rating agencies.”

Specifically, Partnoy argues that the derivatives market is too easy to penetrate because all that’s required is “credit worthiness and decent reputation.” If one of the nation’s three credit-rating agencies — Moody’s, Standard & Poor’s or Fitch IBCA — give a company an investment grade rating, it can essentially act like J.P. Morgan Chase or Citigroup, two of the world’s biggest banks. But Enron was able to offer credit without being required to keep a set amount of capital in place, as banks are. And whereas traders dealing with securities or futures contracts must pass difficult licensing exams, companies that trade only in derivatives often can do as they please.

Enron managed to become a major player in the derivatives market not just by taking advantage of these loopholes. The company also built up its reputation through a mix of deceit, hobnobbing and bravado. Its high credit rating was maintained by hiding billions of dollars of debt in off-balance sheet partnerships. Its gravy train included prominent economists, politicians and journalists. By dint of ceaseless self-promotion, executives like Ken Lay and Jeffrey Skilling made Enron’s name synonymous with successful financial innovation.

Investment bankers now speak with derision of Enron’s arrogant attempt to invade the turf of the big boys. And many in the investment community are quick to separate themselves from Enron’s taint. The fault for Enron’s collapse lies with Enron, they argue — not the lack of regulation. The company gamed the system and paid the price. New rules, they stress, would only punish the innocent companies with higher costs and more red tape. The lesson of Enron’s collapse is not that government needs to save the markets from themselves, but rather that bad companies fail, says Nik Khakee, director of Standard & Poor’s structured finance derivatives group.

“Some people would argue that it’s good for there to be more players in the derivatives market, but you need to make sure that they’re all operating under an accepted set of rules,” he says. Enron, he implied, made up its own rules.

Proponents of credit derivatives, in particular, dismiss the idea that Enron’s fall has any larger systemic importance. Enron’s derivatives will simply be redistributed, they argue. In fact, Enron’s involvement with credit derivatives should be seen as “a bright spot,” according to William Harrison, CEO of J.P. Morgan Chase, who defended them on Jan. 16, according to a Financial Times report. Without credit derivatives, Harrison and others have argued, Enron’s $33 billion debt default would have been more highly concentrated, forcing banks that had a direct relationship with Enron to lose massive amounts of money, or close.

In other words, credit derivatives make the system more stable, so as to prevent disruption when events as catastrophic as Enron’s failure happen. But not everyone shares this view. Enron may not create a chain reaction of economic disruption by itself, but if dozens of companies engage in the same kind of practices, free from any kind of government oversight, a series of failures could threaten to undermine even the most stable banks and financial firms, Partnoy, Greenberger and others argue.

Clarifying disclosure rules may not even be enough to protect against another Enron, according to Greenberger. “You need to have some sort of regulatory structure,” he says, noting that banks have federal examiners in-house. “You can debate what kind of structure to put in place, but you need stronger enforcement because financial statements are not going to protect the public from imprudent, unsound or fraudulent practices.”

Ultimately, as Partnoy pointed out in his testimony, “Congress must decide whether, after 10 years of steady deregulation, the post-Enron derivatives markets should remain exempt from the regulation that covers all other investment contracts.”

As Partnoy noted in his Senate testimony, the gatekeepers failed, and their continued failure may set the stage for even greater economic distress. Enron’s derivatives adventures, ultimately, leave us with one major, and as yet unanswered, question. Who will guard the gatekeepers?

Damien Cave is an associate editor at Rolling Stone and a contributing writer at Salon.

The Wall Street Journal’s Freudian tweet

The newspaper declares Enron-inspired Sarbanes-Oxley law struck down by Supreme Court. Er, not so fast

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The Wall Street Journal's Freudian tweet

The Wall Street Journal has never made any attempt to hide its antipathy for Sarbanes-Oxley, the Enron/Worldcom-inspired law that attempted to increase oversight on public company accounting. The Journal’s position is that the law imposed costs on businesses that hurt the overall economy. Since this is the Journal’s editorial position on any legislation that tries to rein in the business world, no one was ever required to take their rantings too seriously (even though, it is true, Sarbanes-Oxley has resulted in compliance costs that can be challenging for smaller public firms).

So perhaps that explains why the Wall Street Journal’s flagship Twitter feed (as pointed out by Felix Salmon) jumped the gun this morning, reporting via a tweet practically dripping with glee that Sarbanes-Oxley had finally been vanquished!

BREAKING: Supreme Court strikes down Sarbanes-Oxley, the landmark anti-fraud law. Much more to come at http://wsj.com

Except, as the Journal and other publications soon reported, the court did no such thing. The court struck down a part of Sarbanes-Oxley that had to with the president’s power to fire members of the Public Company Oversight Accounting Board, the regulatory body set up by Sarbanes-Oxley to watch over the accounting firms that audit public companies.

Currently, members of the PCOAB can only be fired “for cause.” The court ruled that this violated the Constitution’s “separation of powers” principles. Now the president will be able to fire the overseers “at will.”

Critics of Sarbanes-Oxley had hoped that the court would use this flaw to throw out the entire law. But that’s not happening. The law stands. The proper tweet should have been “Supreme Court strikes down minor part of Sarbanes-Oxley; law remains in effect.”

Maybe it was an honest error — albeit retweeted around the world at near the speed of light. Or maybe it was an unintentional revelation of the deepest hopes and desires of the Wall Street Journal’s shell-shocked editorial core — the subconscious revealed in 140 characters or less. With just days to go before a new avalanche of financial sector regulation becomes law, the Journal saw one bright spot in the advancing gloom — Sarbanes-Oxley would be no more! And the paper (or a Twitter-feed monitoring intern) got a little excited. Hey, no worries, it’s happened to the best of us.

But the least the paper could do would be a follow-up, one-word tweet: Ooops! Any self-respecting blogger would have felt that much responsibility. But the Journal blithely tweeted forward, gradually approaching the truth, with nary a look back. Tut tut.

UPDATE: The man behind the mistaken tweet, Zach Seward, comes admirably clean in Felix Salmon’s comments.

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Andrew Leonard

Andrew Leonard is a staff writer at Salon. On Twitter, @koxinga21.

Jack Abramoff, Eliot Spitzer: A tale of two swindlers

What connects the disgraced N.Y. governor and the jailed D.C. lobbyist? Oscar-winner Alex Gibney explains

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Jack Abramoff, Eliot Spitzer: A tale of two swindlersFormer New York governor Eliot Spitzer speaks at the Reuters Global Financial Regulation Summit 2010 in New York April 28, 2010. REUTERS/Brendan McDermid (UNITED STATES - Tags: BUSINESS HEADSHOT)(Credit: © Brendan Mcdermid / Reuters)

What do the following have in common: Imprisoned Washington lobbyist Jack Abramoff, disgraced ex-New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer, the collapse of Enron, the Bush administration’s torture policies, the late gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson? Before we go chasing some thread of thematic continuity — and we could definitely do that — let’s observe the emotional connection. All of those people and things provoke or embody big, visceral reactions: shock, outrage, disgust, amazement.

The other thing they have in common, of course, is Alex Gibney, who has made movies about all those subjects, including the Oscar-winner “Taxi to the Dark Side,” the box-office breakthrough “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” and “Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson,” which wasn’t a big hit but strikes me as a key work in understanding what Gibney is up to. He thrives on those oversize emotions mentioned above, channeling them into intentionally ambiguous pop documentaries that inhabit a nuanced middle ground between journalism and entertainment.

As he would be the first to admit, Gibney’s films depend on the work of old-school investigative journalists, those lumbering sauropods who take months or years to reach their destinations. His particular genius lies in taking their facts and figures, their reams of insider testimony, and spinning them into compelling on-screen yarns, loaded with archival news footage, goofy animations and special effects, dramatic re-creations and comic-relief moments. Yet if Gibney’s films are a long way from the purist cinema-vérité documentary tradition, they’re closer in spirit to old-fashioned muckraking than to the clown-prince pranksterism of Michael Moore. (Gibney’s voice can be heard in his films, both literally and figuratively, but he never appears as a character.)

Even by Gibney’s prolific standards, 2010 is shaping up as a bonanza, or perhaps an unmanageable pileup. When I met him recently at the New York offices of Magnolia Pictures, we were officially talking about his explosive, hilarious and eye-opening Abramoff film, “Casino Jack and the United States of Money,” which Magnolia releases in theaters this week. But Gibney also had — count ‘em — three other new movies premiering in the Tribeca Film Festival, at least if you count his section of the anthology documentary “Freakonomics,” adapted from Stephen Dubner and Steven Levitt’s bestselling books. (Other co-directors of that film are Seth Gordon, Eugene Jarecki, Morgan Spurlock and the “Jesus Camp” duo, Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady.)

Gibney also unveiled a sneak preview of his as-yet-untitled Eliot Spitzer documentary at Tribeca, along with “My Trip to Al-Qaeda,” a film based on journalist and author Lawrence Wright’s solo theater piece about his quest to find the roots of Islamic terrorism. (That film will play on HBO, and perhaps also receive limited theatrical release. The commercial fate of the Spitzer film remains undecided.)

“Casino Jack” veritably revels in the rollicking, stranger-than-fiction details of the Abramoff scandal, in which a brilliant and charismatic lobbyist pimped out much of the United States Congress to big-money corporate clients, along the way defrauding Indian tribes, the territorial government of the Mariana Islands and other easy marks. Beyond that, though, Gibney is fascinated by the scandal’s larger implications — and it’s there that we begin to see the conceptual thread that ties his films together. Abramoff was no rogue out to enrich himself (although he did that too) but a committed right-wing ideologue who permanently changed the rules of the game in Washington. He embraced and embodied that old gag about the Golden Rule: Those who have the gold make the rules.

As always, Gibney was a cheerful, upbeat conversationalist in person. He’s a film buff who stays busy at festivals catching other people’s work, and in an interview context he delivers concise, on-message sound bites, not dark, philosophical jeremiads. Still, as I told him, I sense a pattern here, whether or not it’s entirely conscious: Gibney is documenting the not-so-slow and not-so-gradual demolition of the American dream, the interlinked vision of freedom, democracy and capitalism that has been so influential in the recent history of the world, and now seems to be in potentially terminal decay.

So, Alex, we’re here to talk about “Casino Jack and the United States of Money,” but you’ve got two other films that are either complete or almost complete. And then there’s “Freakonomics,” which you directed part of. I think you should write some kind of self-help book on how to get stuff done. Are you one of those people who’s incredibly organized?

Man, that would make everybody who knows me howl with laughter. I may be the world’s most disorganized person. But I do put in the hours. I should probably join Filmmakers Anonymous. Stop me before I say yes again!

You know, you could look at your films and describe them as miscellaneous. Generally you’re taking the work of journalists and adapting it for the screen. But when I look at them, I see a congressional corruption scandal, a major corporate scandal, a disgraced politician and a dead journalist who spent his life excoriating the stupidity and corruption he saw around him. Is there a pattern?

Maybe if you see it, you’ll let me know. [Laughter.] There are clearly certain things that interest me, and I seem to go there. But a pattern? I don’t know.

Well, if I were a graduate student trying to write a thesis about you, I might suggest that these are all aspects of the decline of America since 1980 — the legacy of the Reagan revolution and the triumph of conservatism in American politics.

Well, there’s a theme in that. I think that’s the big story. Now we’re seeing that the net result of the Reagan revolution was the Wall Street meltdown. Take away all the rules and regulations, and what do you get? Meltdown. So I think that’s a theme.

But the other thing that’s increasingly interesting for me is human behavior. What makes people do the strange things they do? How do good people go bad? How do people abuse power? Those are big things for me.

You’re showing your movie about Eliot Spitzer at Tribeca, but it has no title yet and we’ve all been asked not to write about it. So I take it you don’t think it’s ready to roll?

I’m taking my cue on the Spitzer film from what happened with “Casino Jack” at Sundance. We thought it was finished. But seeing it with an audience, who weren’t my friends or anything, you learn things about how it plays. So we made it a lot shorter, we took at some narration, we just shifted stuff around. I would say the Spitzer film is largely finished, and now we’ll see how people respond. We may make a few adjustments.

Your other new film is “My Trip to Al-Qaeda,” which — well, how would you describe it? Is it an adaptation of Lawrence Wright’s performance piece?

Yeah, in some ways it is. He did a one-man play called “My Trip to Al-Qaeda,” which is like “my summer vacation,” except in the Middle East. What intrigued me was that it was an everyman’s look at al-Qaida — why they attacked us, and why they came to be what they were. In making the film, we filmed the play, but then we enhanced it. The set of the play was Larry’s study, but it also included a TV screen. We made that TV screen significantly bigger on our set, and used it as a magic portal.

There’s a kind of time and space travel in the film, where we go to Cairo, to London. We also travel through space and time to the caves in Afghanistan, to Saudi Arabia, so that you can see and feel these places in addition to traveling on Larry’s personal journey, which is his play.

Getting back to “Casino Jack,” which is a movie about a scandal that was widely covered in the media when the story broke, five or six years ago. It seems as if you’re arguing that people may know Abramoff’s name, and maybe the general outlines of the story, but may not understand its importance.

In some ways, he assembled the tool kit that lobbyists are still using. Now, people will object to that: “Absolutely not! Jack Abramoff was one of a kind! He was completely outrageous.” Well, yes. He was outrageous, and he was way out of control. But he used the same tool kit everybody uses today: the rapacious use of not-for-profits to hide trips, to hide agendas, to hide money flows. The revolving door, where you get staffers from senators’ or congressmen’s offices and put them into your lobbying shops so you can influence votes, influence legislation. The use of entertainment and skyboxes — there are different rules now, but there are also ways to get around them. Biggest of all is the way you manage money to influence legislation, in a way that skirts the prohibitions on quid pro quo. It’s about going inside the kitchen in the world’s biggest restaurant and seeing how the sausage is made. Jack Abramoff was the master chef in the world’s biggest restaurant.

We wonder why Congress is dysfunctional, why they’re not doing the people’s bidding, why everyone seems to hate them. The reason is, the system is broken, because it’s all based on money. By looking at Jack’s story, you can see how that happened.

And Jack’s story — first of all, it’s hilarious and spectacular. It’s globe-girdling, there’s a murder in it, there are sweatshops in Saipan, dirty deals in Russia, arms whistling to the West Bank. But at its heart is the very stuff that is breaking our system of democracy.

This was the biggest congressional corruption scandal ever, at least at the time. But did the level of corruption that Abramoff represented become the new normal, in a sense? Because in the film you suggest that even more dramatic stuff has happened since his downfall.

The dispiriting thing is that Jack Abramoff, in the wake of the financial lobbying of the last few years, looks like a piker. I mean, he’s Podunk! The financial lobbyists, and the medical and pharmaceutical lobbyists, have taken what Abramoff did to a new level.

You mentioned the fact that the Abramoff story is highly entertaining, which it certainly is. And while it’s unlikely that your viewers will find him likable or sympathetic, let’s just say this: He makes one hell of a lead character.

There is another film, which is still called “Casino Jack.” I think they’re going to change the title. It’s a fictional version of this story, in which Kevin Spacey plays Jack Abramoff. I’ve seen the film, and Kevin Spacey is very good in it. But he’s no Jack Abramoff. [Laughter.]

Jack Abramoff is one of a kind. As Neal Volz, a former staffer for congressman Bob Ney who later worked for Jack, says, “Jack could talk a dog off a meat truck.” He was that persuasive. He was the ultimate salesman, but he was also a man of great imagination. He was a film buff, who saw his own life as an action film or a spy thriller. As a result, he imagined himself into situations that, you know, make for pretty good moviegoing.

Suddenly, we’re in Angola, in Africa, where Jack is holding a sort of right-wing Woodstock [in June 1985], shooting machine guns with a bloodthirsty character named Jonas Savimbi and a guy named Adolfo Calero, who used to run the Contras in Nicaragua. And they’re all holding hands after a lot of machine-gun shooting and singing a version of “Kumbaya” with this guy Lew Lehrman, who later ran for governor in New York state, and who gave George Washington’s bowl to Jonas Savimbi, this bloodthirsty dictator. You can’t make this stuff up!

Yeah, I literally couldn’t believe that entire sequence. It’s so amazing. It seems impossible, totally fictional. Was it difficult to find documentation of that event?

It sure was. We got lucky or we were good, one of the two. We tracked down a cameraman who had been there, and he still had 10 hours of footage. We also got Jack’s film, which was amazing. Jack was a film producer. He produced “Red Scorpion,” with Dolph Lundgren [released in 1989], and “Red Scorpion 2.” I think the Angola affair — it taught Jack that it wasn’t a big enough deal. That was his documentary version, and he was always going to make an action film. So he reinvents Savimbi into Red Scorpion, and has Dolph Lundgren as the action hero, shooting up everybody and performing weightlifting tricks. And that’s what Jack was as a young man, a weightlifter. So Dolph Lundgren is standing in for Jack.

I have a fun thing at the beginning of the film. There’s this thing that Jack said to somebody, which we transposed into an e-mail: “Documentary? You don’t want to make a documentary. Nobody watches documentaries. You want to make an action film.”

So to some extent, this film is an action film. That’s what I told Jack: “It’s an action film, man. People are going to be entertained.” I think it’s also a comedy, at least in parts. But unfortunately it’s a comedy in which the joke’s on us.

So you’ve had contact with Abramoff. What was that like?

Very interesting. I visited him in prison, and found him to be a very engaging character, very funny, good storyteller. He loves to quote movies.

Did he know who you were?

He did. I think — no, I know — that there was great reluctance to meeting with me. It wasn’t like I had a big record as a movement conservative, which was something we joked about. We agreed on one thing: I didn’t see him as a bad apple. I saw him as spectacular evidence of a rotten barrel.

He was at the center of things, not on the periphery. Everybody else was trying to make him the scapegoat: “Oh, we got rid of Jack Abramoff. Everything’s fine!” I told him, and I firmly believe, that he was at the center. He was doing stuff to the extreme, yes, over the top. But he was doing the same stuff everybody else was doing.

Well, you make a pretty strong case that Abramoff wasn’t in it for the money, or not entirely. He had an ideological motivation. He actually believed he was doing the right thing.

Right. I think he was a zealot. Unlike his partner, Mike Scanlon, who was in it for the money, Jack Abramoff was a zealot. He believed in the principles of the Reagan revolution. He was very anti-Soviet, but he also wanted to do what Grover Norquist has suggested: make government so small you can drown it in the bathtub. Denude it of its resources. Destroy the government, in effect.

Do you see any parallels between Abramoff and Eliot Spitzer? Here are these two brilliant, headstrong guys from opposite sides of the political spectrum, who appeared to be very idealistic, driven by ideology, but who allowed themselves to become corrupted.

I don’t know that Eliot was corrupted by his ideology, but I think he’s a character who did something that was wildly unexpected. If there is a parallel, it’s hubris. I think Jack became so entranced with his outsize reputation that he began to believe his own press releases. And I think Eliot Spitzer — he started seeing prostitutes at the moment of his greatest political influence. He was on his way to being governor, overwhelmingly popular among both Republicans and Democrats. And at that very moment, at the top of his game, he began to see prostitutes. Dudley Do-Right did wrong.

Of the two of them, maybe Spitzer was the real hypocrite. You can call Abramoff a lot of things, but not that.

I don’t think you could really accuse Jack of being a hypocrite. Jack was corrupt, and I don’t think you can say that Eliot Spitzer was corrupt. But he was hypocritical, there’s no doubt about that. Look, he had increased penalties for johns in New York, and he had prosecuted escort services. Now, I have rather politically incorrect liberal views about whether prostitution should be legal. [Laughter.] But the fact was that it was illegal, and he was the governor of New York, who had convinced people to elect him because he was Mr. Clean. So, yes, he was a hypocrite. And Jack wasn’t.

“Casino Jack and the United States of Money” opens May 7 in New York, Los Angeles and Washington; May 14 in Chicago, Phoenix, San Diego, San Francisco, San Jose, Calif., Santa Cruz, Calif., and Seattle; May 21 in Atlanta, Boston, Monterey, Calif., Nashville, Palm Springs, Calif., Philadelphia, Sacramento, Tucson, Ariz., and Austin, Texas; May 28 in Charlotte, N.C., Cleveland, Dallas, Kansas City, Miami, Minneapolis, Portland, Ore., Salt Lake City, San Antonio and Santa Fe, N.M.; and June 4 in Houston and Waterville, Maine, with more cities to follow.

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Exclusive Alex Gibney clip: Jack Abramoff and healthcare

See a deleted scene from Oscar-winner Alex Gibney's new movie about the guy who dosed Congress with dirty money

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In an exclusive premiere for Film Salon readers, here’s a deleted scene from Oscar-winning director Alex Gibney’s upcoming documentary “Casino Jack and the United States of Money.” The film recounts the horrifying, mesmerizing saga of über-lobbyist Jack Abramoff and the congressional corruption scandal of the late ’90s and early 2000s that dramatically changed the landscape of Washington (and definitely not for the better).

In this Webisode, Gibney explores the elaborate money shuffle through which Abramoff channeled money from supposedly legitimate lobbying clients (like Indian tribes) through Republican PACs and Big Pharma front groups, who in turn wrote industry-friendly legislation that was passed intact by the GOP-led Congress. I’ll have an interview with Gibney and more coverage of the film next week. “Casino Jack and the United States of Money” opens May 7 in major cities, but you’ll only find this clip here (at least until the DVD comes out).

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It’s time for Wall Street to pay

We need accountability -- as in, jail time where warranted -- for those who created the financial disaster

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It's time for Wall Street to payJames Cayne of Bear Stearns, John Thain of Merrill Lynch, and Lloyd Blankfein of Goldman Sachs

Almost everybody’s got their noses out of joint these days — and no wonder. If there’s a significant American institution that hasn’t failed in its fundamental public responsibility over the past decade, it’d be hard to identify.

Writing in Time, Christopher Hayes puts it succinctly: “Nearly every pillar institution in American society — whether it’s General Motors, Congress, Wall Street, Major League Baseball, the Catholic Church or the mainstream media — has revealed itself to be corrupt, incompetent or both. And at the root of these failures are the people who run these institutions, the bright and industrious minds who occupy the commanding heights of our meritocratic order.”

Me, I blame the combination of runaway baseball salaries, the “talented and gifted” movement in schools, and the tyranny of SAT scores. I’m only half-joking. Once free agency drove even an average third baseman’s pay into the seven-figure range formerly reserved for tycoons who owned major industries or medium-size Midwestern states, practically everybody with SAT scores over 1,400 figured they deserved to earn as much as Aramis Ramirez.

The differences being that quality third basemen are a lot rarer than Ivy League MBAs, and are publicly and relentlessly evaluated. Steroids or no steroids, one bad season and they’re replaced by a 22-year-old from the Dominican Republic. That’s one of the things keeping us fans hanging on.

Not so in the corporate world. As recently as 2008, the geniuses running Wall Street investment banks bankrupted their companies and came perilously close to collapsing the world financial system. And what happened? A few CEOs departed via “golden parachute,” but most executives stayed shamelessly in place, profited from multibillion-dollar TARP bailouts and then began awarding each other obscene bonuses almost before the smoke cleared.

Meanwhile, a substantial part of a generation’s retirement savings vanished into thin air. Had the Bush administration succeeded in “privatizing” Social Security back in 2005, the damage could not have been worse.

Over time, American institutions appear to be growing steadily less accountable. Hayes cites the Catholic Church’s sex abuse scandal, which strikes me as a red herring. Yes, the bishops averted their eyes, placing the putative well-being of the church above children. Yes, ecclesiastical lectures on sexual sin are a bit harder to take. But the church has been hierarchical, secretive and self-protective since forever. Moreover, as recent developments in Ireland and Germany show, the problem is international.

More to the point, “look at CEO pay,” Hayes urges. “In 1978, according to the Economic Policy Institute, the ratio of average CEO pay to average wage was about 35 to 1. By 2007 it was 275 to 1.” In comparison, the ratio remains approximately 20 to 1 in most European countries; roughly 11 to 1 in Japan. Yet people complain about labor unions.

Hayes cites Nell Minow, an expert in corporate governance nicknamed “The CEO Killer” by Fortune magazine, to the effect that all many executives know how to do is “manipulate the levers of governance and devise ingenious methods of guaranteeing themselves windfalls regardless of their company’s performance.” The unvarying defense of the latest Wall Street bonuses, of course, is that the talented and gifted recipients might otherwise change teams. Why, perish the thought.

Only recently, reporters have begun catching up with the bankruptcy examiner’s report on the failure of Lehman Brothers investment bank, the precipitating event in the 2008 financial crisis. According to law professor and former white-collar prosecutor Peter J. Henning, writing in the New York Times’ DealBook blog, the 2,000-page document “discusses some accounting gimmicks that are eerily reminiscent of how Enron tried to prop up its balance sheet back in 2001 before it collapsed.”

And for which, it will be recalled, a number of Enron executives went to prison. The details can be dauntingly complex. But what they amounted to were a series of short-term accounting tricks designed to make the bank’s financial health appear robust as it “teetered on the brink of ruin.”

The examiner’s report calls CEO Richard Fuld “grossly negligent” at minimum, and reserves even harsher terms for Lehman’s accounting firm, Ernst & Young. Remember when accounting was a respectable profession? No more. They’re buccaneers today.

The basic gimmick was called a “Repo 105,” moving bad real estate-based assets off the books by using them as collateral for short-term loans just long enough to file quarterly reports, then unwinding the deals as quickly as overnight.

It’s as if your brother-in-law assumed your debts and deeded you his assets overnight so you could qualify for a bank loan, then took them back. Except Lehman was doing it to the tune of $50 billion a pop. You and your brother-in-law would go to prison for that, and so should somebody at Lehman Brothers. Hopefully, somebody with a brilliant academic record and impeccable social credentials, so the rest of them start paying attention.

© 2010, Gene Lyons. Distributed by United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

 

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Arkansas Times columnist Gene Lyons is a National Magazine Award winner and co-author of "The Hunting of the President" (St. Martin's Press, 2000). You can e-mail Lyons at eugenelyons2@yahoo.com.

Sundance: Searing portrait of a top lobbyist

Oscar-winner Alex Gibney talks about his new Jack Abramoff expos

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Sundance: Searing portrait of a top lobbyist18 Aug 2005, MIAMI, FL, USA --- Washington lobbyist Jack Abramoff leaves the courthouse in Miami August 18, 2005. Abramoff, a central figure in investigations involving House Majority Leader Tom Delay, plans to fight charges he defrauded two lenders of $60 million to buy a casino cruise line, his lawyer said on Thursday. Abramoff, a well-connected Republican lobbyist, and Adam Kidan, his partner in the $147.5 millions buyout of SunCruz Casino five years ago, were indicted by a federal grand jury in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, on August 11. --- Image by © CARLOS BARRIA/Reuters/Corbis(Credit: © Carlos Barria/reuters/corbis)

PARK CITY, Utah — Alex Gibney’s new documentary, “Casino Jack and the United States of Money,” which premiered at Sundance this week, is much more than a shocking and highly entertaining movie about Jack Abramoff, the über-lobbyist at the center of the biggest corruption scandal in congressional history. It’s a portrait of a political system that has been poisoned down to the root by the pernicious influence of big money, by the buying and selling of connections and influence, and by a radical free-market ideology that has been systematically employed to undermine the principles of representative democracy.

As the Oscar-winning director of “Taxi to the Dark Side” and “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” told me in our conversation in a Park City restaurant, the Abramoff case was not an isolated instance of criminality, but a symptom of a much larger disease. As in his earlier films, Gibney dramatizes the work of America’s best investigative journalists, and directly attacks the “bad apple” hypothesis that’s repeatedly employed to explain away disturbing tales of corruption and malfeasance, from Enron to Abu Ghraib to Abramoff.

Magnolia Pictures will release “Casino Jack” in theaters this spring. For now, here’s Alex Gibney on the outlandish Abramoff tale and its rogue’s gallery of supporting players — from Tom DeLay to Grover Norquist to George W. Bush — why it definitely still resonates in the Obama era, and what it means for our imperiled republic. 

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