Chapter 1
The Fall of a Wall Street Icon: How Goldman Sachs Lost Its Soul
When John L. Weinberg's memorial service was held at Gotham Hall in September 2006, it marked more than just the passing of Goldman Sachs' former senior partner. It symbolized the end of an era for Wall Street's most prestigious investment bank. As luminaries like Lloyd Blankfein, Hank Paulson, and Robert Rubin delivered eulogies, many attendees couldn't help but feel they were mourning not just the man but the principles he embodied. John S. Weinberg captured his father's essence perfectly: "He saw right and wrong clearly, with no shades of gray." This moral clarity had once defined Goldman Sachs, the firm that transformed under John L.'s leadership from a modest partnership into the world's most prestigious investment bank. By 2012, however, the firm would be described by Rolling Stone's Matt Taibbi as "a great vampire squid wrapped around the face of humanity," with its once-revered principles seemingly abandoned in pursuit of profit. What happened to Goldman Sachs? The answer lies in a complex story of organizational drift that unfolded over decades, as seemingly small decisions gradually transformed a culture once defined by integrity into something its founders might barely recognize.
Chapter 2
The Guardians of Wall Street's Moral Compass
Goldman Sachs wasn't always the controversial behemoth we know today. Founded in 1869 by Marcus Goldman, the firm pioneered commercial paper for entrepreneurs and managed major IPOs like Sears in 1906. After nearly failing during the 1929 crash, the firm painstakingly rebuilt its reputation through exceptional client service and unwavering integrity.
In 1979, co-senior partner John Whitehead formalized Goldman's longstanding values by drafting the firm's business principles "one Sunday afternoon." Initially writing ten principles before expanding to twelve (later fourteen), Whitehead considered this his greatest contribution to the firm-more significant than any deal he'd ever closed. These principles weren't invented from scratch but documented existing values that had guided Goldman through decades of success.
The principles were revolutionary for Wall Street at the time. Every employee received a copy, and managers held quarterly meetings specifically to discuss how these values applied to their business. When I joined Goldman in 1992, we typically included the "Firm Principles" on the first page of client presentations to differentiate ourselves from competitors who lacked such clear ethical guidelines.
At Goldman's heart was the philosophy captured by Gus Levy's famous maxim of being "greedy, but long-term greedy," emphasizing sound decision-making for future success rather than short-term gains. Partners historically reinvested nearly all earnings back into the firm, demonstrating their commitment to long-term growth over immediate gratification. Though investment banking once constituted half of Goldman's revenue, the balance would shift dramatically in later years as trading and investing its own capital became dominant.
The firm's growth trajectory tells its own story. From a few thousand employees with 50-60 US partners in the early 1980s, Goldman exploded to 32,600 employees with 450 partners (43% non-US) by 2012. After much internal debate about preserving culture, Goldman finally went public in 1999, adding "provide superior returns to shareholders" to its principles-creating a fundamental tension with putting clients first that would define its future struggles.
Chapter 3
The Partnership: More Than Just Shared Profits
Goldman's partnership structure wasn't merely a business arrangement-it was the cornerstone of a distinctive culture that set the firm apart from its Wall Street peers. Partners faced unlimited personal liability for the firm's actions, extending to their homes and cars. This structure created intense risk awareness and made wealth creation a career-long achievement rather than an annual bonus calculation.
The partnership election process was legendarily rigorous, with candidates scrutinized not just for their revenue production but for their character and commitment to Goldman's principles. Partners carefully evaluated potential new partners, knowing their actions would have direct financial and reputational consequences for all. As one partner told newly elected partners in 1994: "We own this business... We are partners-emotionally, psychologically, and financially. There can be no borders between us, no secrets."
This financial interdependence fostered a social network of trust that facilitated valuable cross-selling opportunities. Partners readily connected colleagues to their external contacts, knowing fellow partners wouldn't jeopardize relationships or leave for competitors. Most had spent entire careers at the firm, with senior partners mentoring newer ones over years. They shared outings, annual dinners, and often lived in the same neighborhoods, creating bonds that transcended mere business relationships.
Despite its emphasis on shared values, Goldman's partnership culture wasn't rigid or monolithic. The firm recognized that diverse perspectives were vital to its productivity and success. Goldman promoted cross-function communication through rotational programs and firmwide committees, creating what sociologists call a "small-world network" that led to innovation and high performance. The partnership structure encouraged productive disagreement because partners had stakes beyond their own areas-banking partners were affected if trading partners mismanaged risk since they were risking all partners' capital.
Senior executives like Rob Kaplan considered "irritating, distracting, and uncomfortable" discussions to be "extremely good medicine" for organizational health. The management committee meetings, training programs using the Socratic method, and collaborative problem-solving all reflected this culture of constructive friction. While not considered innovative in product development during the 1980s (preferring to improve upon others' innovations), Goldman's strength lay in its organizational adaptability and culture of rapid response that shocked outsiders with its speed and information-sharing.
Chapter 4
The Best and Brightest: Goldman's Human Capital Strategy
Goldman's corporate ethos, what John L. Weinberg called "the glue that holds the firm together," was carefully maintained through selective recruiting. Partners sought candidates who not only possessed intelligence, drive and experience, but also espoused values consistent with Goldman's culture. New hires were immersed in this culture and encouraged to apply their existing values in a business context.
The firm wasn't known for offering the highest entry-level compensation on Wall Street, yet talented people prioritized working there, attracted by partnership potential and the firm's distinctive culture of putting clients' interests first and being "long-term greedy"-a differentiation reinforced through principles, policies and corporate stories.
Goldman's recruiting process was distinctive-senior executives, including partners, regularly conducted campus interviews, demonstrating the firm's commitment to hiring. As Whitehead stated, "Recruiting is the most important thing we can ever do." The firm sought candidates with "brains, leadership potential, and ambition" who shared Goldman's values. Team sports backgrounds, military service, or community involvement were highly valued as they demonstrated teamwork and discipline. The extensive interview process (sometimes twenty or more interviews) helped assess candidates' capabilities and cultural fit.
Once hired, new employees were assigned a "big buddy"-an experienced employee who provided guidance on projects and unwritten cultural norms. These relationships formed "family trees" with traceable lineages that created informal networks and pride in one's Goldman heritage. Beyond buddies, new employees were also assigned mentors at the vice president level who provided career guidance and helped secure valuable project assignments. This multi-layered support system reinforced Goldman's family-like culture and ensured values were transmitted across generations of employees.
The firm's culture emphasized modesty and restraint. Partners drove modest cars, wore Timex watches, and avoided ostentatious displays of wealth. Some partners even had holes in their shoes and shirts while working 12-14 hour days. Goldman's offices were deliberately understated, with employees expected to maintain a low profile and avoid drawing attention to themselves. The firm's green-covered directory with everyone's contact information reinforced both the expectation of constant availability and the sense of belonging to an exclusive club.
Chapter 5
Clients First: The Principle That Built a Legend
Goldman's foremost principle-putting clients' interests first-meant doing what was best for clients regardless of immediate fee implications. This required commitment to honesty and diplomatic candor that built client trust. When I was an analyst, I witnessed this principle in action when our team advised against selling a client's division despite potential fees from the transaction. The vice president told the CEO, "The CEO hired us for our unbiased advice, not to justify what he thinks." Though initially surprised, the client followed our recommendation, and years later when the division had doubled in profits, Goldman was hired to sell the entire company.
This approach aligned with former partner Jimmy Weinberg's reputation for telling clients what he thought rather than pandering to them. Interviews with Goldman clients from the 1980s confirmed that unbiased advice was indeed the firm's hallmark.
Integrity and honesty formed the heart of Goldman's business principles. Sidney Weinberg, a longtime Goldman head, considered integrity his favorite word, defining it as honesty combined with putting clients' interests first. As one partner observed, "Mistakes were quite forgivable, but dishonesty was unpardonable."
John Whitehead explained that reputation was paramount in an industry where services among top investment banks were largely similar. This philosophy was encapsulated in Gus Levy's maxim that Goldman partners should be "greedy, but long-term greedy." This meant working in the firm's interest but in ways consistent with the long-term health of clients, the industry, and the business itself.
The culture of long-term greedy also explained why employees willingly worked grueling hours for relatively modest wages-they believed the partnership potential would eventually compensate for early sacrifice. This resulted in remarkably low voluntary turnover (under 5% versus the industry's 20%), as bankers' identities became so entwined with Goldman that they routinely declined higher-paying offers elsewhere.
I don't want to romanticize Goldman's past. There were occasional lapses in the firm's principles. I once observed a partner who appeared unprepared for a client meeting despite our team's efforts to brief him. When meeting the client CEO, he claimed to have "been poring over the numbers all day and night" before recommending the asking price we'd told him about earlier. Though the deal succeeded strategically, I privately questioned his approach.
In another instance, I witnessed a vice president tell a sole bidder that "we had a number of bids" to pressure them to raise their offer. When I questioned this tactic, he defensively replied that technically "a number of bids" could mean one. These exceptions highlighted that while Goldman's principles generally prevailed, the firm wasn't perfect in their application.
Chapter 6
Under Pressure: The Road to Going Public
Banking in the United States has been governed by numerous regulations, with certain key regulatory changes having particularly strong influence on Goldman's trajectory. The public listing of investment banks began in the 1970s when the NYSE repealed provisions preventing publicly listed companies from being exchange members. While firms like Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette (1970), Merrill Lynch (1971), and Morgan Stanley (1986) went public earlier, Goldman remained a partnership until 1999, making it the last major full-service investment bank to list publicly.
Goldman resisted going public longer for two key reasons: it had no retail banking business requiring heavy technological investment, and unlike competitors, it didn't distribute profits annually to partners but retained capital within the firm. This capital retention gave Goldman more flexibility to stay competitive without outside funding.
The first serious proposal for Goldman to go public came in 1986, championed by Bob Rubin and Steve Friedman but opposed by the Weinbergs. Instead, Goldman accepted a $500 million investment from Sumitomo Bank for 12.5% of profits while maintaining operational independence.
The firm experienced a crisis in 1994 with significant trading losses and an unprecedented wave of partner resignations, including senior partner Steve Friedman. This exodus removed hundreds of millions in partner capital and damaged trust among remaining partners. Jon Corzine emerged as CEO (rather than co-senior partner), breaking with Goldman's traditional leadership structure.
Corzine's aggressive expansion opened offices worldwide, concerning partners who felt he moved too fast. In 1996, Goldman became a limited liability partnership to shore up capital and limit partner liability. The "partner" title was abandoned, with equity-holding partners becoming "partner managing directors" (PMDs) and experienced VPs becoming "managing directors" (MD-lites). This title change impacted the social network of trust, as partners lost their distinctive status.
Despite initial resistance from some senior partners, Corzine pushed for an IPO while Paulson insisted on careful deliberation. After six weeks of study in 1998, a strategy committee recommended "vigorous expansion" through going public. The executive committee, citing competitive pressures from larger rivals and the desire to "bind more employees through equity ownership," gained partner consensus to proceed. Partners justified the IPO as necessary for raising capital beyond what they could personally contribute, though some later admitted the culture had already changed enough that the decision could be rationalized.
Before the IPO, economic conditions worsened, and Corzine was forced out in a management coup orchestrated by Paulson with support from Thain and Thornton. Goldman finally went public on May 3, 1999, at $53 per share, with only 12% offered to the public while partners retained 48%. Six months later, the Glass-Steagall Act was partially repealed, allowing commercial banks to buy investment banks and creating massive industry consolidation that put new competitive pressures on Goldman.
Chapter 7
Early Warning Signs: The Drift Begins
Even before the IPO, Goldman began embracing opportunities it had previously avoided, signaling organizational drift. The firm started challenging long-held policies designed to protect its reputation as it pursued new business opportunities.
Goldman had built its reputation as the only major investment bank refusing to represent corporate raiders in hostile takeovers. After contentious internal debates, senior partners decided Goldman would work on hostile raids "rarely and reluctantly" with a test to determine eligibility. The compromise included an informal agreement to avoid such deals in the United States. This incremental shift revealed drift from Goldman principles, with arguments focusing on client service rather than openly acknowledging revenue growth opportunities. Partners rationalized with phrases like "If we don't, someone else will" and "This time is different."
Goldman had traditionally declined business with gambling companies for reputational reasons but changed this policy in 2000. Its first gambling industry client was Mirage Resorts, which Goldman represented in its $6.6 billion sale to MGM Grand. To establish itself in this newly embraced sector, Goldman hosted an extravagant Las Vegas conference featuring Cirque du Soleil and Jay Leno. This lavish event surprised industry observers as something they'd expect from competitors like DLJ, not Goldman.
Goldman's once-strict underwriting standards eroded dramatically during the technology boom. Initially requiring three years of profitability before taking companies public, Goldman progressively reduced requirements to two years, then one year, then one quarter, until finally abandoning profitability requirements altogether. Despite Goldman's denial of changing standards, its own statistics showed the shift-of 24 companies it took public in 1997, a third were losing money. By 1999, it underwrote 47 IPOs including unprofitable companies like Webvan and eToys.
Whitehead's 1970 guidance that "Important people like to deal with other important people" evolved dramatically by the 1990s. The principle, originally meant to encourage relationship-building with corporate decision-makers, transformed into a focus on only the most important companies and executives. This shift devalued partners who covered middle-market companies, once considered cultural standard-bearers. The "Super League" client designation formalized this approach, with these elite clients receiving management committee attention and systematic relationship tracking.
Goldman's once-strict policy against rehiring departed employees dramatically shifted in the mid-to-late 1990s. Initially, even discussing competing offers could result in immediate dismissal-one M&A analyst was escorted out by security after merely mentioning another firm's approach. This changed as talented people left for tech firms or hedge funds and later wanted to return. The firm began making counteroffers to retain talent, fundamentally altering the culture. Employees came to believe they needed outside offers to avoid being "lost in a crowd," while loyal "good soldiers" were now viewed as naive.
Chapter 8
Trading Trumps Banking: The Shift in Goldman's DNA
Goldman's quest for growth and profits led to a significant adjustment in its business mix, prioritizing capital-intensive activities: trading, proprietary trading, merchant banking/principal investing, and international expansion. Trading and principal investments grew at an impressive 20 percent annually from 1996 to 2009, while investment banking grew at just 7 percent. This shift fundamentally altered the firm's balance between banking and trading, contributing significantly to organizational drift as the firm's revenue sources and priorities changed.
Trading's dominance transformed Goldman's culture and priorities. While trading and investment banking each represented about 40 percent of revenues in 1996, by 2005-2007 trading and principal investing accounted for 70 percent of revenues while investment banking plummeted to just 15 percent. This shift brought fundamental cultural changes as trading's different values and approaches began to dominate the firm's thinking. As Rob Kaplan explained, "As trading came to be a bigger part of Wall Street, I noticed that the vision changed. The leaders were saying the same words, but they started to change incentives away from the value-added vision and tilt more to making money first."
Trading also redefined client relationships-Blankfein himself noted they used "counterparties" at J. Aron, "because we didn't know how to spell the word 'adversary.'" This attitude shift created confusion about Goldman's role as advisor versus market maker, an issue the firm later acknowledged needed clarification.
Proprietary trading's growth at Goldman created fundamental tensions with the firm's stated principles. While not new (Bob Rubin joined risk arbitrage in 1966), proprietary trading accelerated significantly under Rubin and Friedman's leadership in the 1990s. By 2011, analyst Glenn Schorr estimated the Volcker Rule (restricting proprietary trading) would impact 48 percent of Goldman's total revenue-far higher than competitors like Morgan Stanley (27%), Bank of America (9%), or J.P. Morgan (8%). This highlighted how central proprietary activities had become to Goldman's business model.
Goldman's merchant banking and private equity operations expanded dramatically, from $1 billion in assets in 1992 to $20 billion by 2007, making it one of the largest private equity firms. This growth created new conflicts as Goldman increasingly competed against clients in acquiring companies and properties. One real estate executive recounted how after discussing a potential property acquisition with his Goldman banker, Goldman's Whitehall Fund purchased the property itself. Despite assurances about "Chinese walls," the executive remained skeptical about Goldman's ability to manage conflicts and subsequently limited his business with the firm.
Chapter 9
The IPO's Aftermath: Money Changes Everything
The IPO accelerated changes already underway at Goldman while introducing new challenges: altered ownership structure, elimination of capital constraints, and increased focus on external perceptions. The addition of a new business principle committing to superior shareholder returns fundamentally shifted priorities, though organizational drift had begun before this change.
The IPO awarded shares to almost every Goldman employee based on compensation, years of service, and managerial discretion. While meant to create alignment and ownership culture, the stock grants had unintended consequences. A year after going public, partners received special approval to sell shares "to improve trading liquidity," while regular employees had to wait three years for vesting. When the tech bubble burst and layoffs occurred, many discovered that unvested shares were forfeited upon termination, creating outrage among both departing and remaining employees.
Despite attempts to preserve partnership culture through the Partnership Compensation Plan (PCP), Goldman's financial interdependence quickly eroded after the IPO. Initially designed to give partners a percentage of firm-wide profits similar to the private partnership model, compensation soon shifted toward discretionary bonuses based on individual performance and market comparisons rather than collective partnership interests. By 2011, partners owned only 10% of the firm compared to 50% at IPO, with current and former partners selling over $20 billion in Goldman stock since going public. This fundamental shift transferred risk from partners to public shareholders, eliminating personal liability for losses and weakening the financial interdependence that had characterized Goldman's partnership culture.
When Goldman was private, partners' finances were deeply interconnected, giving any partner the right to question traders because their own capital was at risk. After the IPO, this financial interdependence disappeared, reducing motivation for MDs to question activities outside their expertise. The firm became increasingly siloed, with partners not even recognizing each other. One senior partner decided to retire after realizing he didn't recognize another partner who ran an important business. Without personal liability and with a shift to bonus culture, constraints on risk-taking loosened significantly, creating incentives to take greater risks with other people's money.
The IPO publicly revealed partners' wealth for the first time, creating significant resentment within the firm. The average partner received around $63 million at IPO (rising to $84 million after the first day of trading), while those who narrowly missed partnership received drastically less. This disparity bred envy and self-interest, with some employees even staging "mini strikes" to secure better compensation. The firm lost its mystique and the prestige of partnership that had differentiated it from competitors. Unable to maintain its tradition of paying less than peers while attracting talent through culture and partnership prospects, Goldman became the highest-paying firm on Wall Street.
Chapter 10
From Ethics to Legality: The Shifting Definition of "Clients First"
Goldman's interpretation of its "clients' interests first" principle gradually shifted from applying a higher ethical standard to merely meeting legal requirements. The firm came to believe that proper risk disclosure and regulatory compliance constituted ethical adherence to its primary business principle. This drift toward legal minimums supported the organizational goal of maximizing growth opportunities.
Maintaining client confidentiality is crucial to Goldman's principles, yet increasingly difficult to manage in practice. "Chinese walls" between departments are meant to prevent information sharing that could harm clients, but their effectiveness is questioned. The complexity of modern banking creates ambiguity about when information can be shared-clients value Goldman's information sharing when it benefits them but question it when it seems disadvantageous. This tension makes ethical lines difficult to draw, as Goldman characterizes its relationships with clients differently depending on circumstances-sometimes as market maker, sometimes as principal investor.
In investment banking, conflicts arise when a bank could have incentives contrary to clients' interests. Goldman manages both actual conflicts (which could result in fines) and perceived conflicts (which cause reputational damage). The complexity of modern banking with numerous products, departments, and regions makes conflict management challenging-no foolproof system can track every potential conflict, and the management of these conflicts remains a critical part of Goldman's business model rather than a formula-driven science. Goldman must make judgment calls about potential conflicts, which are susceptible to pressure due to incentives to maximize profits.
As business unit manager of Goldman's global M&A department in the late 1990s, I handled conflict clearance issues during a period of explosive growth. The job was overwhelming-my two voicemail boxes would fill overnight with 70-100 messages each. While my predecessors typically dealt with simpler conflict questions like which competing client to represent, I faced increasingly complex issues involving prior work, confidentiality agreements, and international entities. Our tracking system was essentially manual despite the rapidly growing complexity. We used a physical "Yellow Pages" book to catalog assignments, but company mergers, name changes, and international operations outpaced our methods.
All decisions were highly vetted with senior management, committees, and legal teams. Our gold standard was imagining how our actions would look if disclosed in the Wall Street Journal. Gradually, the approach shifted from "No, we can't do that; it could look bad" to "If both clients agree, or if the sophisticated client signs a big boy letter, then it's okay." Goldman maintained market share by effectively managing conflicts to maximize revenue opportunities, finding multiple roles in transactions. This approach helped Goldman achieve higher returns compared to peers, but also led to reputational questions.
Chapter 11
Surviving the Storm: How Goldman Weathered the Financial Crisis
Goldman survived the 2008 financial crisis as an independent company when many peers failed, achieving a 4.9% return on equity versus -5.0% for competitors in 2008 and 22.5% versus -1.8% in 2009. Though Goldman claimed this success stemmed from executive performance, whether the firm would have survived without government intervention remains debatable.
Despite organizational drift, Goldman retained what I call "residual dissonance"-the ability of employees to challenge one another and ask questions. This cultural element, combined with trading expertise at the top of the firm, helped Goldman break through structural secrecy and better perceive and manage risk during the crisis. Lloyd Blankfein's trading expertise and David Viniar's broad experience as CFO enabled Goldman to overcome structural barriers that trapped competitors.
Goldman's relatively flat organizational structure and strong social networks enabled crucial risk information to flow directly to top executives. Email evidence shows Blankfein and CFO Viniar actively engaging with traders about reducing mortgage exposure as early as 2006, with Viniar instructing to "be aggressive distributing things" before greater market distress. Unlike competitors with more hierarchical structures like Citigroup, where CEO Chuck Prince lacked trading expertise and direct communication channels, Goldman's culture encouraged the discussion and disagreement needed to identify risks.
Goldman's risk management transformed after its 1994 trading losses, evolving from informal trader decisions to a comprehensive firm-wide system. By 1995, the firm implemented computer-based monitoring that aggregated market and credit risks across the organization in real-time, complemented by a risk committee of global partners who met regularly to examine all major exposures. This aggressive approach to risk management stemmed directly from the 1994 experience when partner capital was at serious risk.
Lloyd Blankfein's background as a sales trader gave him "a sixth sense" about when to push for more risk and when to pull back. Though not primarily a trader himself, he maintained credibility by managing a small trading account, understanding that experiencing trading losses could provide valuable perspective. His "detached rationality" and ability to evaluate ramifications of different courses of action reflected the partnership culture's best aspects.
However, Goldman's decision to rapidly de-risk its mortgage exposure in late 2006 without warning clients exemplifies the tension between shareholder obligations and client interests. While Goldman had a fiduciary duty to shareholders, it sold risky securities to clients while simultaneously betting against them. Goldman executives argued they fulfilled their legal "suitability standard" obligations when acting as brokers rather than advisors, claiming sophisticated institutional clients knowingly accepted the risks. However, this stance contrasts sharply with historical examples like John Weinberg making good on BP losses despite no legal obligation.
Chapter 12
Why Clients Stay: The Paradox of Goldman's Enduring Appeal
Despite public outcry and client disappointment, Goldman maintains its business dominance through unmatched access, information, risk management capabilities, and talent. Clients acknowledge a "love-hate relationship" with Goldman-recognizing both its aggressive tactics and exceptional competence. Many clients describe Goldman's advice as indispensable despite ethical concerns, explaining that "high risk equals high return."
While clients remain skeptical of Goldman's motives, they continue working with the firm because its privileged market position makes it "both impossible to avoid and riddled with conflicts of interest." This lack of trust may be less important in trading (based on price and liquidity) but raises concerns in investment banking where client confidentiality is paramount.
The firm's slow response to Greg Smith's allegations troubled some clients, who worried about explaining to their own clients why they still used Goldman. Yet clients consistently cite Goldman's intellectual capital, execution capabilities, and preeminent position as reasons to continue their relationship. Goldman's teamwork and ability to coordinate across divisions provides a significant competitive advantage, though some clients report hearing rumors of Goldman using their deal information with larger clients.
While clients note that overall Wall Street talent has declined as many top performers move to private equity or technology, they still view Goldman's talent as broader, more consistent, and better coordinated than competitors'. Though Goldman's premium fees have reportedly diminished in some areas following the crisis, clients continue performing a cost-benefit analysis that keeps them working with the firm despite ethical concerns.
In 2011, the Justice Department began investigating Goldman following a Senate Permanent Subcommittee report that highlighted questionable conduct in selling subprime mortgage securities while simultaneously betting against the housing market. The investigation focused on whether Goldman had misled clients and whether CEO Blankfein had misled lawmakers when testifying that the bank never bet against clients for its own profit. In August 2012, the Justice Department took the unusual step of publicly announcing it would not bring criminal charges, stating there was "not a viable basis" despite an "exhaustive review." Senator Levin responded that "Goldman Sachs' actions were deceptive and immoral" regardless of whether the decision reflected "weak laws or weak enforcement."
Chapter 13
God's Work: The Rationalization of Goldman's Transformation
Goldman employees are socialized to believe their work fulfills a higher social purpose, which helps justify behaviors others view as ethically inappropriate. Public service remains deeply embedded in the culture, with many leaders moving between Goldman and government positions. This sense of serving a higher purpose creates a rationalization that employees deserve to be the best (and highest-paid) because they serve something more important than just profit.
Many Goldman employees describe their corporate culture using religious terminology-the business principles function as "Ten Commandments," partnership election resembles "ascension to heaven," and the pursuit of excellence becomes a moral imperative. This organizational aura makes attacks on the firm feel like a "holy war," explaining Goldman's aggressive defensiveness and blindness to ethical drift.
CEO Lloyd Blankfein's infamous "God's work" comment, though later apologized for, reveals the religious-like mindset permeating Goldman's culture. Religious metaphors abound within the firm-the management committee is likened to a "college of cardinals," mentors are called "rabbis," and partnership election resembles spiritual ascension. This religious framing helps justify inequality and massive compensation as necessary sacrifices for "greater prosperity for all." The zealotry behind this worldview blinds Goldman to outside perspectives and explains its inability to grasp public outrage during the financial crisis.
Goldman's extensive government connections reinforce its sense of higher purpose while creating a web of influence that earned it the nickname "Government Sachs." The firm strategically hires former government officials like John Rogers and Gerald Corrigan while sending its own people to serve in administrations of both parties. Internally, these connections are viewed purely as civic duty and expertise-sharing, but externally they're seen as either valuable networking or unfair advantage-seeking.
The belief that Goldman serves a higher purpose has transformed into a dangerous rationalization for questionable behavior. This "holier-than-thou" attitude exempts individual actions from scrutiny under the assumption that Goldman's "good guy status" places it beyond reproach. While this sense of purpose motivates employees to work extraordinarily hard and creates loyalty, it also blinds them to ethical drift.
Chapter 14
Lessons from Goldman's Drift: What Organizations Can Learn
Goldman's organizational drift will likely continue and possibly accelerate despite residual cultural elements fighting against it. Competitive, organizational, technological and regulatory pressures will push the firm toward growth, challenging it with the "law of large numbers" and leading it to occasionally cross regulatory or ethical lines. The firm will remain blind to these transgressions through social normalization and rationalization, reinforced by its conviction of serving a higher purpose.
Organizations must adapt to compete, making ongoing drift inevitable as Goldman responds to competitive, regulatory, technological, and organizational pressures. While the long-term fate of organizations facing drift remains uncertain, potential solutions exist. Peter Weinberg proposed a "10/20/30/40" compensation plan delaying significant portions of pay and requiring managers to invest personal capital in their businesses. The author suggests examining quasi-partnership models with financial interdependence, where executives collectively and disproportionately share in fines and settlements.
The broader organizational lessons beyond Goldman include: (1) Shared values tie organizations together and should be monitored for drift; (2) Social networks create competitive advantages; (3) Financial interdependence serves as a self-regulator; (4) Public disclosure of personnel decisions signals acceptable behavior; (5) Constructive dissonance improves performance; (6) A sense of higher purpose helps employees find meaning but shouldn't rationalize bad behavior; (7) Cultural transmission requires careful recruiting and socialization; (8) Organizational exceptions may solve short-term issues but create long-term problems; (9) Rotating assignments reduces bounded rationality and structural secrecy; (10) Leaders must clarify conflicts between short and long-term goals.
Organizational drift resembles a ship veering off course despite careful initial navigation. It's the slow, steady uncoupling of practice from original procedures and principles that can lead to disasters. Sidney Dekker's complexity theory explains how systems "drift into failure" over time. Rather than blaming flawed components, failure emerges from the very relationships meant to ensure success. Systems drift toward failure by reducing safety margins to optimize efficiency and competitiveness.
Scott Snook's analysis of the 1994 Black Hawk helicopter shoot-down reveals "practical drift"-the uncoupling of practice from written procedure. Local adaptations, individually inconsequential, accumulate into system vulnerability. Everyone behaves rationally according to their subunit's norms, but coordination breaks down between units.
Organizations become accustomed to deviant behavior until it's no longer considered abnormal. Multiple small steps over time establish a "new normal" with each incremental change. At Goldman, this social normalization happened so subtly that everything seemed normal as the culture slowly shifted. Once partners normalized a given deviation-whether in recruiting, promotion, compensation, underwriting, client relations, or risk management-the deviation became compounded.
The challenge remains distinguishing healthy adaptation from harmful drift, especially when a business appears successful. Leadership requires "curiosity that borders on skepticism" and questions answered with action. Though examining organizations is messy, sociological analysis provides useful guidelines for tackling these challenges before they become crises.
