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NOVEMBER
1, 2004
COVER
STORY
The
Secret World Of Marsh Mac
CEO Jeff Greenberg presides over the arrogant and tight-lipped culture
of Marsh & McLennan, where conflicts of interest abound. There's
more trouble coming for the world's largest insurance broker.
When
Jeffrey W. Greenberg took the helm of notoriously secretive Marsh
& McLennan Cos. (MMC ), a $12 billion financial-services company,
on Nov. 18, 1999, analysts were happily buzzing that Greenberg was
a gregarious, outgoing executive. The word on Wall Street was that
he would raise the profile of Marsh Mac with more public appearances
and open communication than his tightlipped predecessor, A.J.C.
"Ian" Smith.
They
couldn't have been more wrong. In the past four years, Greenberg
sightings have been scarce. The company, true to its secretive history,
became even more cloistered. But on Oct. 14, Marsh & McLennan
was forced into a harsh public spotlight when New York Attorney
General Eliot Spitzer charged its insurance brokerage with fraud.
In a civil complaint filed in New York State Supreme Court, Spitzer
alleges that the company engaged in bid-rigging, price-fixing, and
accepting payoffs from insurance companies.
Marsh
& McLennan, the world's largest insurance broker, is paid millions
annually to manage clients' risks and crises. Now it's having epic problems
of the same nature itself. In a three-month investigation, BusinessWeek
spoke with some 50 former and current MMC employees, insurance industry
executives, and investigators -- and discovered that the firm's problems
may well go far beyond Spitzer's initial charges.
BusinessWeek
has learned that MMC and its executives could face a raft of further
legal and regulatory problems. Spitzer's office is mulling criminal
charges against several execs connected with the insurance brokering
scandal. It is also looking into whether Mercer, MMC's pension-consulting
arm, and Putnam Investments, MMC's mutual-fund company, push clients
into buying Marsh insurance products. As part of an industrywide sweep,
the Securities & Exchange Commission is probing Mercer's alleged
"pay to play" practices of requiring payoffs from money managers
who want it to recommend them to pension clients. At the same time regulators
are examining payments Putnam and other mutual-fund outfits make to
companies to ensure that their funds are featured in corporate 401(k)
plans.
As
if that's not enough, several class actions have sprung up -- at least
one regarding the alleged fraud at Marsh Inc., as the insurance brokerage
is known, and others involving Putnam. Already, the legal onslaught
is taking a toll. On Oct. 19, Moody's Investors Service downgraded the
firm's debt, citing concerns about "financial consequences"
arising from Spitzer's lawsuit. And fear that some of MMC's revenue
streams could dry up has knocked down its share price. In the four trading
days following Spitzer's Oct. 14 announcement, the stock plummeted 48%,
wiping out $11.5 billion in market cap.
At
the center of the storm stands Jeff Greenberg, 53. If you ask almost
anyone about him, you'll hear that he is smart as a whip, incredibly
knowledgeable about the insurance business, well-spoken, and polished.
Much like his father, Maurice R. "Hank" Greenberg, 79, the
legendarily hard-charging chairman and CEO of insurer American International
Group Inc. (AIG ), he has a history of being opportunistic when it comes
to scoring profits for his company. Even now, his defenders insist that
he inherited serious problems, particularly in the brokerage and mutual
funds businesses, when he moved into the top slot.
Yet
Greenberg has been slow to tackle the problems and reluctant to change
the arrogant culture in which they festered. His company has a business
model of aggressively cross-selling the products of its various divisions,
which, say former and current employees and investigators, can lead
to serious conflicts of interest. The potential for new conflicts rose
as Greenberg pursued a policy of growth by acquisition. Add the tough
financial goals that Greenberg sets for senior managers, and the pressure
to bend the rules grows. An MMC spokeswoman disagrees: "MMC has
historically served clients with a wide array of services and products.
We find if we serve clients well, financial goals are met."
The
firm's obsessive focus on secrecy helps keep any misdeeds under wraps,
say the sources. "Some companies have a culture based on kickbacks
and undisclosed financial arrangements, and their people are forced
to remain silent about wrongdoing," says Edward A.H. Siedle, a
former Putnam compliance director and SEC official who now heads the
Center for Investment Management Investigations in Ocean Ridge, Fla.,
which looks into pension fraud.
Why
didn't Greenberg act more promptly? Some critics say he seems deaf to
the swelling chorus of demands from regulators and the public for higher
standards of behavior in the financial-services industry. In the early
days of Spitzer's investigations, Greenberg dispatched General Counsel
William L. Rosoff to meet the Attorney General. Rosoff behaved like
a pit bull, says one attendee, and infuriated Spitzer with condescending
remarks. "The leadership of that company is not a leadership I
will talk to," Spitzer said later.
Several
former top MMC honchos blame Greenberg's executive style. They say he
is an indecisive leader and somewhat detached. He is a hands-off manager
-- as long as his staff make their numbers. Says one employee: "It's
the kind of place where if you don't meet or exceed a goal, heads roll."
Typically, Greenberg favors domineering division heads and gives them
free rein -- until a problem occurs. Then he is quick to oust them.
MMC says: "Greenberg's record in management changes and actions
to resolve problems demonstrate the opposite."
The
day after Spitzer announced his charges, MMC's board expressed full
confidence in the CEO. That's no surprise: Greenberg chairs the board,
which Nell Minow, editor and corporate governance expert at the Corporate
Library, says is fiercely loyal and "rife with cronyism."
Six of its 16 members are directly involved in running Marsh Mac or
one of its subsidiaries, says Glass Lewis & Co., a San Francisco
proxy-research firm.
The
board may be compelled to take action against top execs if enforcers
now circling the company are able to force fundamental changes in the
way it does business. Analysts and other experts say that could damage
the company's financial health. "If you eliminate all the questionable
payments at Marsh & McLennan, you eliminate half of their profits,"
says a former executive. Spitzer's complaint says contingent commissions
-- lucrative payments Marsh receives for steering unsuspecting clients
to certain insurers -- alone amount to $800 million a year, or about
half the insurance brokers' 2003 net income. Says Ronald W. Frank, a
Smith Barney (C ) analyst: "One of the risks to Marsh isn't just
possible fines but the fact that a significant component of its compensation
is being brought into question."
BusinessWeek
requested several interviews with Greenberg but was repeatedly told:
"Mr. Greenberg does not speak to the press." Understandably,
companies are reluctant to comment on ongoing investigations. A company
spokeswoman says, "Marsh & McLennan is a company that neither
condones nor tolerates wrongdoing and takes forceful action when such
issues arise." The company said it has voluntarily suspended the
contingent fee payments. Until the latest scandal, Greenberg and others
in the industry have staunchly defended the fees. They say brokers go
beyond the call of duty for their clients, by, for example, creating
custom policies or collecting premiums. On a July conference call with
analysts, Greenberg said: "We provide services for which we expect
compensation. We don't spend a lot of time worrying about it."
"Throwing
the Quote"
Perhaps William Gilman, Marsh Global Broking's executive director of
marketing and a managing director, was doing the worrying. Gilman, in
his 60s, is a larger-than-life character who some call Kill Bill, after
the Quentin Tarantino movies. The nickname could also have something
to do with an internal AIG memo about bidding for business that was
an exhibit in the Spitzer case: "Per W. Gilman -- get to right
number [regarding a bid] or 'we'll kill you."' Says a former colleague:
"He's the kind of guy who stubs a cigarette out in your coffee
cup."
Gilman,
says Spitzer's complaints, strictly enforced the system of rigged bids
and payoffs from insurers. He also rated insurers by how much they paid
Marsh in contingent commissions. A September, 2003, e-mail from his
office released by Spitzer reads: "We need to place our business
in 2004 with those that...pay us the most." A source close to the
investigation told BusinessWeek that Gilman will likely face criminal
charges. Gilman did not return several calls. On Oct. 19, MMC suspended
Gilman and four others.
Folks
dealing with Marsh were supposed to abide by "Billy's Rules"
-- a playbook Gilman devised for insurers, according to someone familiar
with the company. The rules were: 1) No "no's" (meaning Gilman
should never be told "no" about any predetermined Marsh arrangement).
2) Don't get stupid (never question Marsh's schemes). 3) If you get
stupid, we will broom your ass. 4) Never think you own your business,
you only rent your business. Marsh owns your business. "Billy's
Rules," emblazoned on an office plaque, hung in Gilman's office.
Gilman,
according to the complaint, oversaw Marsh's "throwing-the-quote"
scheme, whereby some insurers were told to quote artificially high bids
for business. Several times, Gilman refused to allow AIG to relay competitive
bids to clients, according to Spitzer's complaint, warning AIG that
"it would lose its entire book of business with Marsh" if
it didn't provide higher price quotes than the insurer Marsh favored.
The phony quotes were often referred to as "throwaway quotes,"
"protective quotes," "backup quotes," or "B
quotes," says the complaint. In return, according to Spitzer, Marsh
protected AIG and other firms that played ball when it was their turn
to win. AIG declined to comment.
Gilman
also staged what he called "drive-bys" -- in which insurers
were asked to attend presentations for prospective clients even when
they knew they had no chance of snagging the deal, according to Spitzer.
A regional manager for Munich-American RiskPartners, a division of American
Reinsurance, who was so frustrated by constant requests from Marsh for
"live bodies" to attend drive-bys that he wrote in an all-caps
e-mail: "We don't have the staff to attend meetings just for the
sake of being a body. While you may need a live body, we need a live
opportunity."
Gilman
may have enjoyed such power because Marsh already dominated insurance
brokering. By the late '90s, Marsh had cornered 40% of the global business
thanks to aggressive acquisitions. Marsh's grip tightened when it centralized
control of broking activities in New York. Analysts say Marsh's dominance
allows it to control pricing, the way insurance products are structured,
and how premiums and payouts are disbursed. "They have both their
clients and insurers by the cojones," says a competitor.
But
now it's MMC's top brass who are squirming. Being in the spotlight is
highly uncomfortable for MMC -- long known as a patrician, white-shoe
firm with an air so understated and secretive that at least one former
exec likened it to working at the CIA. Its ranks have included Ambassador
L. Paul Bremer III, former Presidential Envoy to Iraq, who recently
ran MMC's crisis-consulting business; Stephen Friedman, President George
W. Bush's top economic adviser and former Goldman, Sachs & Co. (GS
) co-chairman, who was an MMC senior principal; Craig Stapleton, the
husband of George W. Bush's cousin Dorothy, who was an MMC president;
and Lord Lang of Monkton, a former British Member of Parliament who
still sits on the board. Many Marsh and Putnam execs summer by the sea
in ultra-wealthy and clubby Watch Hill, R.I.
"I'd
Love to Talk...But"
MMC certainly goes to extraordinary lengths to ensure loyalty. A former
Putnam executive recalls being grilled by a company psychiatrist in
a hotel room for hours during a job interview. Says the former exec:
"Everyone has a Dr. [James] Terry story. He would ask questions
like: 'What's the worst thing that ever happened to you?' 'What are
your views on religion?' 'Who do you vote for?' They tell you they're
looking for any signs of malfeasance or criminality. But they're also
looking for people who will fit in, lockstep, at the company."
An MMC spokeswoman claims that using a psychiatrist for screening purposes
is "industry practice." Terry could not be reached for comment.
Once
they're in, most people who join MMC's upper echelons must sign binding
noncompete agreements, say both current and former employees. "Each
time you exercise stock options, you have to sign a new one," says
one former exec. MMC calls this, "a generally accepted practice."
Employees who leave MMC and then disparage it in public risk losing
any deferred compensation to which they are entitled. One former MMC
exec told BusinessWeek: "Gee, I'd love to talk to you. There's
a lot to say. But they've got my money."
Since
moving to rival broker Willis Group Holdings Ltd. (WSH ), a former Marsh
exec says he has been spied on by a private investigator who he suspects
was Kroll Inc., which MMC bought in July for $1.9 billion. He says he
believes MMC wants to ensure that former employees are not using its
proprietary information. MMC would not comment without specific details.
Another former exec says MMC constantly monitored internal phone calls.
MMC says it is unaware of this.
At
the start of 2004, insiders say, MMC managers were forced to sign new
noncompete agreements. At least two longtime MMC execs left as a result,
they say. "The feeling was, I've never disparaged the company and
I've been loyal all these years. And you're making me sign another one
of these?" says one.
The
changes, say former execs, were designed to stem a rising tide of defections
by its brokers to smaller rivals who they say treat clients more fairly.
Over the past year, MMC has been embroiled in a nasty lawsuit with Palmer
& Cay, a Savannah (Ga.) insurance broker whose president, James
B. Meathe, is Marsh's former Midwest chief. In documents filed in Michigan's
Wayne County Circuit Court in September, 2003, MMC alleged that P&C
set out to induce some 70 "key Marsh employees to resign"
and "violate their noncompete agreements" to join P&C,
which P&C denied. Robert Cleary, a lawyer representing P&C declined
comment. Sources familiar with the suit say Marsh has used tough tactics,
with one Marsh board member telling P&C: "We're going to bury
you." MMC declined comment.
Such
behavior seems at odds with Greenberg's impeccable pedigree. After graduating
from upper-crust Connecticut boarding school Choate, Greenberg headed
to Brown University, where he graduated with honors. He then earned
a J.D. degree at Georgetown University's law school. Greenberg sits
on a number of prestigious nonprofit boards, including the New York
Stock Exchange. He's a trustee of the Brookings Institution and a member
of the Trilateral Commission -- an organization David Rockefeller founded
in 1973 that consists of the world's top political and business leaders.
He
and his second wife Kimberly have four children. According to friends,
they lead a relatively quiet Manhattan life with little of the ostentation
that often accompanies the CEO lifestyle despite the $22 million Greenberg
took home last year. The family has a spacious but understated apartment
on Park Avenue and a weekend house in Lakeville, Conn. With his tall
and muscular physique, friends say, he plays a mean game of tennis.
Steven Rattner, managing principal at private investment firm Quadrangle
Group LLC who serves as a Brown trustee with Greenberg, says: "Jeff's
a real stand-up guy. He's thoughtful, committed, and always does what
he says he's going to do." Veteran journalist Nikki Finke, who
was married to Greenberg in the early 1980s, says he was never a spoiled
rich kid. During high school he pumped gas and cleaned boats.
And
despite the unfolding scandals, most industry players still seem to
respect Greenberg. He certainly got high marks in his early days as
MMC CEO for his handling of the aftermath of the September 11 World
Trade Center attacks. Three years earlier, Marsh had leased floors 93
to 100 in Tower One, and 294 MMC employees -- mostly salesmen, secretaries,
and analysts in their 20s and 30s -- lost their lives after the first
airplane hit. At services, Greenberg spoke movingly about the makeshift
memorial that had occupied an entire wall next to the cafeteria at MMC's
Sixth Avenue headquarters.
After
Andrew
Still, just days after September 11, Greenberg and top MMC execs met
to figure out how to profit from the disaster. They formed a subsidiary
-- Axis Specialty Ltd. -- to sell insurance to corporate customers at
three or four times the rates before September 11. MMC says that it
was merely "meeting market demands."
For
some industry players the move recalled what Greenberg did in 1992 after
Hurricane Andrew slammed into South Florida and wiped out some $15 billion
worth of property. Jeff, who was working for dad at AIG, sent out an
internal memo stating: "This is an opportunity to get price increases
now." It was leaked to the press, which had a field day -- with
one newspaper branding him "a vulture." The memo moved Ralph
Nader to complain and Florida regulators to freeze rates. People close
to Jeff say he was humiliated by the incident. "That's a major
reason why he avoids the press these days," says one.
Greenberg's
ambition has been fueled by father Hank. Says ex-wife Finke: "Jeff
was always terrified of his father. He was deeply insecure and wanted
his approval." "Hammerin' Hank" is known for his cantankerous,
rough-and-tumble demeanor. "Hank was known for calling up his lieutenants
on weekends and holidays and bawling them out," says a former executive.
When
Jeff was working under his father in the early '90s, heading up AIG's
domestic brokerage group, Marsh sources say Hank raked him over the
coals at a meeting in front of top executives. Hank, they say, had ordered
Jeff to deal with a personnel issue, but Jeff had dragged his feet.
Says one: "Hank started yelling at Jeff in front of everyone: 'You
either fix your management problem, or I'll fix mine!"' But the
coup de grace came in 1995 when Hank abruptly promoted Jeff's younger,
less experienced brother Evan, making them equals in AIG's hierarchy.
Two weeks later, Jeff left.
Evan,
49, is a college dropout and nonconformist who, by his own admission,
had a bit of a troubled youth. But he had a knack for the insurance
business and rose quickly at AIG. Unlike Jeff, Evan is one of the few
people who stand up to his father. "Evan's scrappy -- a yeller,"
says an insurance industry veteran. "I think Hank could somehow
relate to him better than Jeff." But in 2000, Evan also resigned
from AIG. He now heads Ace Ltd. (ACE ), a Bermuda company named in Spitzer's
complaint -- along with AIG -- as one of those involved in Marsh's alleged
bid-rigging and price-fixing schemes.
Months
after exiting AIG, Jeff landed at Marsh & McLennan, where he had
worked as a broker in the mid-'70s. As a partner in MMC Capital, the
firm's risk-capital unit, he excelled at building MMC's Trident Funds,
which invested billions in various insurance entities and real estate,
and hoisted himself onto the fast track. He was determined "to
show up his dad and brother," says a source familiar with the family.
At
Marsh Mac, Jeff was able to take advantage of the Greenberg name: Then-CEO
and Chairman Smith -- an old acquaintance of Hank's -- was Jeff's personal
mentor. Jeff was named chairman and chief executive of MMC Capital in
1996. By the beginning of 1999, he had been promoted to president of
Marsh & McClennan. And by the end of that year, he was CEO. He was
elected chairman in May, 2000.
Even
if Greenberg did inherit the Marsh Mac mess, he's under fire for how
he handled it. "Despite seeming like a hero for ousting [former
Putnam CEO Lawrence J. ] Lasser and moving toward cleaning up Putnam,
the truth is, Greenberg didn't address things until he absolutely had
to," says a former colleague. In November, 2003, after Putnam was
slapped with a securities-fraud charge, longtime CEO Lasser, 61, was
forced to resign. Regulators alleged that company brass had been aware
of illegal trading in Putnam funds since 2000.
Problem
was, the autocratic Lasser had already built an empire that accounted
for half of MMC's revenues when Greenberg took over. "Lasser basically
created his own little fiefdom and allowed no one in," says Mercer
E. Bullard, president and founder of Fund Democracy, an advocacy group,
and a securities law professor at the University of Mississippi. But
after the 2000 market crash, some MMC execs say Greenberg should have
swooped in and taken control. Says a former Putnam exec: "[Jeff's]
delaying tactic cost Putnam its reputation." Insiders say Charles
E. Haldeman, who took over as Putnam's CEO last November, was angry
at Greenberg for dragging his feet. Haldeman declined to comment.
A
Frustrating Process
In the past year, Putnam has lost some $70 billion in assets. Recently,
several pension funds, including CalPERS, the California Public Employees'
Retirement System, agreed to let Putnam compete for its business, but
with stipulations: Putnam must consider pruning executive pay and ramp
up financial disclosure. "That's a huge positive move for corporate
governance," says Minow.
But
governance gurus still aren't happy with MMC or Greenberg. The Corporate
Library says the company still awards its execs excessive compensation.
In 2003 it paid an aggregate $60 million to its top five officers, vs.
an average $21 million at other large financial companies, according
to Glass Lewis. MMC says: "Our independent directors and outside
consultants set compensation." This past year, several large pension
funds joined forces to propel an independent director, Zachary W. Carter,
a lawyer, onto the board. Richard Ferlauto, director of pension and
benefit policy at the American Federation of State, County & Municipal
Employees, says it was a slow-moving and frustrating process: "Jeff
thought he knew what was right, and he wasn't going to let anyone rock
the boat." Carter didn't respond to numerous interview requests.
Earlier
this year Greenberg asked mentor Smith, 69, to come out of retirement
to help him. Insiders say Greenberg was intimidated by Lasser and needed
Smith to negotiate with the former Putnam CEO. Smith, who has an office
close to Greenberg's, was named chairman of Putnam. Greenberg also promoted
Steven Spiegel, Lasser's right-hand man, to vice-chairman of Putnam.
Says Bullard:"Although Haldeman has taken control and is doing
a great job, it doesn't change the fact that a lot of bad stuff happened
under Smith and Spiegel."
Some
of the bad stuff may have had to do with Putnam funds being pushed by
Mercer, Marsh Mac's pension-consulting arm. Mercer was long considered
a sleepy, less profitable outpost of the Marsh kingdom. Then, say insiders,
in the mid-'90s it came under pressure to turn bigger profits. That's
when it started offering pricey conferences for money managers at $50,000
to $60,000 a pop. "If you don't attend those, it's nearly impossible
to get on Mercer's list to manage pension money," says Jack Silver,
a former trustee at Chicago's teachers' pension fund. MMC denies this.
The SEC is investigating these allegations. And Spitzer will likely
look into whether Putnam pushes Marsh-brokered variable annuity products
onto investors. "There's no disclosure about this conflict to Putnam
clients," says Selva Ozelli, a securities lawyer close to the investigation.
There could also be an investigation into how Marsh, allegedly slow
to pay out premiums, profits from the float.
That
means deepening troubles for Greenberg, who some critics say has done
far too little to shore up MMC's reputation over the past year. "Print
it, post it, and pray -- it seems as if that's all Greenberg's done
when it comes to ethics," says Patrick McGurn, special counsel
at Institutional Shareholder Services Inc., a corporate governance consultant.
Until now, say analysts, Greenberg's main focus has been on acquiring
more companies. Now he's forced to deal with spreading legal woes and
a public-relations nightmare. Says David D. Brown IV, Spitzer's investment
protection chief: "We're really just at the beginning here. We're
pursuing a number of leads and will follow them where they take us."
In
an Oct. 15 press release Greenberg announced that MMC was appointing
a private investigator to look into the alleged insurance broker fraud.
It's a move some might have applauded, except for one thing: He gave
the job to the head of MMC's Kroll -- who's now the head of Marsh.
By
Marcia Vickers
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