In the universal quest to one up each other, there are few places where you can keep score as closely as Wall Street. When Steven Schwarzman raised $4.75 billion to take the Blackstone Group public, poor Henry Kravis surely felt diminished that his company wasn't raking in as much as his longtime rival. After all, there can be only one Napoleon marching through New York. Kravis then took KKR public but raised $1.25 billion.
Ah victory. The art of oneupmanship is a delicious sport played daily by thousands, in parlors, posh parties, pubs and public arenas, all with various subtleties, subtexts and motivations.
Sometimes it is an easy game to play -- especially when you are the undisputed Titan of your turf.
President Bush gave Scooter Libby a liberty pass and oneupped those pesky Democrats, Justice Department idealists and even Vice Darth Vader, who grumbled loudly when Scooter couldn't scoot away without a fine. Mighty fine feeling for W.
One would think when you become Titan, it is the time to finally feel assured and be more discreet. But it seems the impulse to preen can be just too irresistible.
After Donald Trump became a star on The Apprentice, other moguls with oversized egos, personas, mansions and G-IV jets felt their competitive juices stirring. Internet billionaire Mark Cuban launched The Benefactor, Virgin Airlines owner Richard Branson revved up The Rebel Billionaire, and as Trump watched in gleeful delight, their ratings nosedived (before his did). Not to let their failure go unnoticed, Trump immediately fired off a salvo in a letter to Richard Branson.
"At least your dismal ratings can now allow you to concentrate on your airline which, I am sure, needs every ounce of your energy," Trump wrote. "It is obviously a terrible business and I can't imagine, with fuel prices that you can be doing any better in it than anyone else. Actually, I wonder out loud how you can be anywhere close to a billionaire." Ouch. (You didn't think that Rosie O'Donnell was first, did you?)
That primal desire to say, "Here, here, I am the best" is a powerful one. People follow powerful people (or perceived powerful people) like lemmings. Protecting this status becomes so important that fights can ensue.
. Hence, the spat between writers Tom Wolfe and Norman Mailer over -- what else -- who was the top dog.
"This is what happens when you're the leader of the pack," Wolfe told Page Six. "The dogs are nipping at your rear."
To which Mailer snapped back, "Just because your ass is bleeding doesn't mean you're the top dog."
Indeed, memorable oneupmanships can have nothing to do with cash but everything to do with the cachet of being a natural -- beauty, charmer, wit, intellect or inventor.
It is most satisfying when it is used to diffuse a lobbed attack which turns to your advantage. When Ronald Reagan was dissed for being the oldest Presidential candidate in U.S. history, he replied, "I won't use the youth and inexperience of my opponent against him." A slam dunk.
Learning to oneup is a necessary survival skill - even if you are a Wannabe Titan. In his book, The Complete Upmanship, Stephen Potter offers suggestions on how to garner more respect in boardrooms or playing fields. In it, he advises, "You must make use of the opportunity to show that you are in the secret confidence of the managing director by accidentally revealing, twice, that you are on much more familiar terms with him than your official ranking might suggest."
Yes, in modern times, this could be called "people upping" which has become a favorite parlor game of late. As writer Nancy Collins observed, "There are so many people with so much money that it is not about who has the biggest house or plane anymore. Now it is about who you were with. Someone will say, 'Oh I had lunch with Rupert Murdoch today.' to which the other person can reply, 'Really, I had dinner with Warren Buffett."
Those who produce objects that people use -- Microsoft computers, Harry Potter books, inspirational magazines, Star Wars franchises and popular search engines -- are far more coveted as dinner guests than mere hedge fund billionaires, making Bill Gates, Steven Jobs, J.K. Rowling, Oprah Winfrey, George Lucas and the Google boys a gigantic cut above Steve Feinberg of Cerberus and Wes Edens of Fortress.
This is not to say that the display of material goods whether it's a Richard Prince painting or an Aspen ski house can not acquire a sense of oneupmanship in the growing playground of multi-millionaires and Daddy Warbucks billionaires. As Veblen, the author of the phrase "conspicuous consumption" wisely noted, "if these articles of consumption are costly, they are felt to be noble and honorific."
Dr. Kerry Sulkowitz, who specializes in counseling CEOs, says it is unfair to suggest that what's driving this competition is purely showing off what their money can buy.
"These possessions have complex meanings," he said. "This includes the creation of a certain wished for lifestyle that might represent proving to a parent that they've made it or living out a fantasy of a heroic character belonging to another era. These purchases certainly have a competitive aspect and why not? At these levels of wealth, you have to spend a lot more to be noticed. Working closely with CEOS has led me to appreciate how their homes, cars and other expensive purchases are deeply personal expressions of long- standing emotional strivings."
With so many reasons for these strivings, this quest will remain unquenchable. One could argue that it started long ago when the little sperm looked back at all the others and crowed, "Ha. Ha. I won."
But how can oneupmanship be turned from crass to class? My friend Fern Siegel, like many, wonders why people don't compete for the most innovative plans for social justice, environmental safety and medical breakthroughs. Could there be hope on the horizon?
Cornell professor Robert Frank writes in books such as Richistan, that the mega-rich are starting to get bored with their toys and are now seeing their legacies in creating highly functioning foundations and charities. For the first time, the rich are demanding results-oriented philanthropy, which will give a Mt. Rushmore high surge of money to help worthwhile causes globally..
The ability to say, "Well, I saved a million people from starving," is far more impressive than talking about an overly expensive meal at Per Se.
Pete Peterson, the founder and co-president of the Blackstone Group, is donating his billions from his recent windfall to charity as are Warren Buffett, Bill Gates, Ted Turner and other like-mined do-gooders. This is all part of a trend I'm calling downupping, which can take many forms.
Author Jim Miller witnessed the best example I've recently heard. "Two of my Harvard buddies were busy impressing each other with what they had," he recalled. "One said, 'I have $100 million dollars now.' The other guy smiled and said, "Yeah, I now only have 50 million ... but I'm happy."
Posted July 6, 2007 | 11:57 AM (EST)