Summer Redstone,
June 22, 2002
Thank
you, Dean Jain, for that kind introduction and let me commend
you
on your first anniversary as Dean of Kellogg. By all accounts,
you
are doing an extraordinary job.
Members
of the administration, faculty, parents, families and guests: Good afternoon!
And
members of the class of 2002: Congratulations!
I’m
delighted to be with you today. While I have no association
whatsoever
with Kellogg – apart from eating the cereal – I was gratified
to
learn that I had been chosen by popular student vote as your commencement
speaker.
I’m
told it was down to me or Ozzie Osbourne. Personally, I think
you
made the right choice. There is far less bleeping language when
I
speak. And besides, I own MTV.
I’ve
attended enough of these ceremonies to know that commencement
speakers
are always scheduled relatively early in the line-up. There's a reason for
that.
It's
what Mark Twain called the "live frog" principle.
Twain
used to argue, and quite convincingly, that one should swallow
a
live frog at the beginning of every day.
That
way you'd know the worst part of your day was behind you.
Well,
I may not be the worst part of your day, but I am the part
of
the day standing between you and that emancipation proclamation known as a
diploma.
And
I know that its allure is perhaps — just perhaps – greater than my own.
That
said, I do have a mission to accomplish here. It is up to me
to
utter those words of profound wisdom and inspiration ... That
your
mother will remember ten years from now.
I’ve
never been one to pull punches, so I’m not going to stand up
here
and recycle all those commencement clichés: “life is a journey”
…
“hold fast to your dreams”… and “remember the golden rule.”
Though
I’m a natural born optimist... [I learned long ago that optimism
is
the only philosophy compatible with a sane existence], I’m also a realist…
So…
here’s the reality: you guys picked one hell of a time to graduate
from
business school. Am I right?
Let’s
review:
In
the two years since you took out those loans to come to Kellogg:
Billions
of dot.com dollars have disappeared.
The
economy has slipped in and now out of a recession.
And
our national security has been violated.
2.2
million U.S. employees have lost their jobs in just the past 18 months.
Since
September 11th, 65,000 pink slips have been issued on Wall Street.
This
is no laughing matter. The job market you face is not just bleak… it’s a cold
shower.
You’ve
got to be wondering, “Did I make a huge mistake?”
If
you came here thinking the Kellogg School of Management would
guarantee
you a job at McKinsey or Goldman Sachs or Kleiner Perkins
upon
graduation… then the answer is likely, “yes.”
There
are no such guarantees. An MBA does not confer superpowers.
It
is not the key to the front door of paradise [not that McKinsey is paradise].
Your
education … any educational experience … is a tool kit, an
extremely
valuable tool kit, that will help you succeed in whatever
career
you pursue. But you have to do the pursuing. A career is not going to chase you
down…
…
At least not anymore.
So,
getting back to my previous question: did you make a huge mistake?
Let
me offer an answer that might surprise you – you made the best
decision
you may ever make. And, furthermore, your timing could not have been better.
As
members of the class of 2002, you have had to work a lot harder
to
get a foot in the door at the company of your choice. And once
inside,
you’ve learned that you can’t pitch pedigree… you have to pitch you.
You
have to sell all the skills and attributes and experiences that
have
brought you to this place … one of the most compelling of which
is
your Kellogg degree… no question.
But
will it pay for itself within a year of graduating? No. Within
two
years? Probably not. Within five years? Maybe… maybe not.
But
is that what really matters?
For
years, hoards of business school graduates have flocked to management
consulting
and Wall Street and, more recently, Silicon Valley. Some
have
been motivated by a genuine passion. Most were lured, however,
by
the promise of instant wealth.
You
in the class of 2002 have the opportunity to reassess your futures
…
to ask hard questions with no easy answers. Maybe your next steps
don’t
have to revolve around quick ways to pay off your school loans.
Maybe,
just maybe, this economic downturn and the events of September
11th
have given you the opportunity to look harder at where you go from here … and
why.
For
those who chart the landmark roads to success, there is no textbook
...
There is no template ... There is no track record to draw upon.
Just
tools ... The tools you may have picked up here and elsewhere
along
your life's journey... Along with a brash, unshakable faith
in
your own convictions and unequivocal confidence in yourself –
despite
what may be overwhelming adversity and a deafening chorus of criticism.
But
that, to my mind, is where the greatest successes of one's life
are
charted ... Where fortunes are won and lost... Where characters
are
forged. If you never venture beyond what you know... You've
spawned
your own limitations. You've erected the walls of your own private prison cell.
Now,
let me guess, you are all sitting there thinking you should have voted for the
live frog.
But,
you and I have much more in common than you realize. When I
first
entered the workforce … not too long ago … there was a different kind of debt
to pay.
I
left Harvard early in my junior year to serve my country. It was
January
of 1943, the world was at war … there was rationing … and
the
only global opportunities in our future involved armed conflict
rather
than economic competition. I was asked by Professor Edwin
Reischauer
to serve in a special cryptography unit being set up
under
his command in Washington D.C. our assignment: to break the
Japanese
code. [not something really hard … like a new business plan for Arthur
Anderson].
While
in the military I attended law school, first at Georgetown and then at Harvard.
When
I graduated, despite offers in private practice I chose the
path
of least remuneration and went to work in government – in the
justice
system … first as a clerk for a federal judge and then as
a
special assistant to the Attorney General of the United States.
It
wasn’t until 1954 – 12 years after leaving college – that I embarked
on
my career in the media business … and, guess what, I took a mammoth
pay
cut to join my father and brother in running a struggling chain
of
movie theaters in the northeast. My initial annual salary was
$5,000,
1/20th of what I had been making in the law by then.
I
spent the next 33 years building national amusements from a 12
theater
chain into a global leader in motion picture exhibition.
During
that time, I gained the experience, credibility and industry
knowledge
to launch a bid in 1987 for a company many times the size
of
my own. That company was Viacom … and you know the rest. What
you
may not know is that I was 64 when I acquired Viacom.
So,
those of you lamenting your ill fortunes at the age of 28 would
do
well to heed the following three pieces of advice from someone
who
has never lamented one moment of a career that has spanned five decades:
1.
Opportunity never knocks.
2.
Follow your heart, but stick to what you know.
3.
It’s not about the money – it’s about winning.
First,
opportunity never knocks. I don’t know who came up with the
inane
_expression. In fact, if anything, opportunity always plays hard to get.
Do
you think that Viacom came looking for me? Or Paramount? Nothing
could
be farther from the truth.
Let
me tell you a little story to illustrate how far you have to
go
for something to fall in your lap. In 1987 when I challenged
management
for control of Viacom, I was embarking on a battle, the
epic
proportions of which I could not have imagined. At the time,
Viacom
was a small but promising company with a diversified portfolio
of
entertainment assets, but it was Viacom’s cable networks – specifically
MTV,
Nickelodeon and Showtime – that caught my eye. I was convinced
that
cable and, specifically, cable programming was a business with
a
bright future and I wanted to be part of it.
Still,
I had no interest in running the company… that is, until
an
investment group led by the company’s CEO made an offer to take
it
private. At the price they were proposing to pay, the company
was
a steal. And, as one of the company’s larger shareholders, they were stealing
it from me.
This
“theft” provoked two reactions. It increased my interest in
Viacom,
and it stimulated my competitive juices. The odds were stacked
against
us. The board was in management’s back pocket. Information
was
kept from us. The company piled on defensive baggage… poison
pills,
golden parachutes, you name it.
More
than once, I had the opportunity to exit the fray with a tidy
profit…
but the more I learned about Viacom, the greater my conviction
that
I would own this company.
Remember,
true opportunity never knocks. I have found that I have
to
go looking for opportunity – and if I don’t find it, I have to create it.
Some
six years later when I looked out over the horizon and saw
Paramount,
that same sense of absolute conviction returned. Paramount
was
a perfect fit. It was a gourmet media meal. We simply had to
have
Paramount. And 18 brutal months and 2 billion dollars later, we had it.
There’s
an aphorism: "the older you get, the easier it is to resist
temptation,
and the harder it is to find it."
Well,
I couldn't disagree more.
In
fact, I find that as I grow older, temptation comes looking for
me!
Temptation, but not opportunity. For a dealmaker like me, CBS
was
a gift. In fact, compared with the others, it was gift-wrapped.
But
the point is – I went after it … I trusted my gut … and I did
the
deal. And I’m infinitely glad I did. Viacom today is a global
leader
in every facet of the media and entertainment industry and
is
the #1 outlet on the planet for connecting advertisers with the
audiences
they need to reach. And as a result of the relative performance
of
Viacom as against the other media companies in the media world,
Viacom
has now and recently become the number one media company in the world.
Carpe
diem, my friends …because life rarely presents itself in neatly packaged case
studies.
That's
why I would argue that the most important advantage this
school
has provided is the ability and the tools to take a chance.
You
have been educated in the art of infinite possibility. You have
learned
that greater rewards attend to greater risk. Apply that
knowledge
to your life as you go forward.
Second
lesson: Follow your heart; but stick to what you know.
Taking
a quick look at Kellogg’s incoming classes in recent years,
one
cannot help but be impressed with the rich diversity of experiences
and
backgrounds. An Indy 500 racecar driver … a clown with Ringling
Brothers
Barnum and Bailey Circus … an astronaut… an aquaculturist … the list goes on.
Each
one of you brought an utterly unique passion for life and a
rich
array of skills and assets when you came here, and I hope that
you
have kept that portfolio current and top of mind as you crunched
numbers
and assessed economics over the past two years. Because
I
truly believe that your greatest success lies in following your
heart
and sticking to what you know.
Everything
... Every dime I’ve made in the forty-plus years I’ve
been
in the media business … I plowed right back into the media
business.
The acquisitions I’ve made in recent years – Viacom, Blockbuster,
Paramount,
CBS – are some of the biggest bets ever made in this industry.
But
I’ve been investing in the motion picture industry for decades.
During
the years I was running National Amusements, the company
took
large stakes in Warner Communications, Disney, Loews and, ultimately,
Fox
and Columbia… and we made a lot of money. My profit on the Columbia
stock
alone was $26 million dollars.
Many
investors are counseled to diversify. That’s probably good
advice
for many people. But not me.
I
believe that to understand the value of a business, you must be
able
to anticipate success. You can’t evaluate a company based simply
on
the present worth of its assets and operations. You need to understand
the
growth dynamic, the potential and your own participation in
realizing
it. You have to be fully confident that if its value is
ten,
you can make it twenty. If you ever question that confidence, you’ve already
lost.
While
I always inform my opinions with comprehensive due diligence,
I
take action based on gut instinct. Instinct, as I define it, is
a
combination of experience and the intellectual capacity to come
up
with the right answer to a question, the right solution to a problem.
I
have that instinct when it comes to media and entertainment, because
I
know that business. And I stick to what I know.
My
final piece of wisdom: It’s not about the money…. It’s about living and
winning.
I
don’t splurge on much in my life. My material desires have always
been
minimal. Born to the children of Jewish immigrants, I spent
my
early years in a tenement called Charlesbank homes in Boston’
s
west end. Our apartment had no toilet; it never occurred to me that other
apartments did.
My
father peddled linoleum, supporting not only a wife and two kids
but
his own parents and my mother’s family as well. He was a hardworking,
highly
competent man, who steadily succeeded through life, ultimately
building
his own business – first nightclubs, then a small chain of drive-in movie
theaters.
My
mother devoted herself to the care and the education of her two
sons
… with an emphasis on education.
The
values my parents instilled in me did not include living extravagantly
and
amassing great personal wealth. The truth is, I’ve never cared
for
money. I realize that sounds strange coming from a billionaire,
and
I recognize that many people do work for money, but I would
wager
that those who become extremely successful are more strongly
motivated
by the desire to achieve, by a commitment to excellence
and
by an obsessive drive to win. They are not primarily motivated
by
the lure of the dollar. That certainly describes me. I have the
passion
to win – in my case you can judge a book by its cover.
I
put everything I had into every business battle … and I must say
I
relished every minute. Why? Because the assets were worth fighting
for,
and because I enjoy a good contest. If you get involved in
a
major competitive struggle and the stress that inevitably comes
with
it, you’d better derive some real sense of satisfaction and
enjoyment
from the battle as well as the ultimate victory … or you’re toast.
Anyone
who has worked with me will verify that I love being in the
thick
of the fray. I work ‘til I drop, and I expect those by my side to do the same …
I
believe in absolute and unrelenting commitment to a goal, and
I’ve
held this work ethic since I was a child.
As
a schoolboy, I brought home top honors year after year. And that’
s
because I worked relentlessly … morning, noon and night.
I
had no friends. I had no social life. I honestly don’t remember
eating
in high school. The ten cents I spent every day on the round-trip
streetcar
fare was a significant expense for my family. I had to
justify
that expense. I had to be the best. That meant no slips, no lapses, no room for
error.
Over
the course of my career, my colleagues and I have endured endless,
mind-numbing
20-hour days of painstaking negotiation. They were
brutal.
And they were the best times of my life.
That’s
the reward of working ‘til you drop. That’s the reward of winning.
But
let me quickly draw the distinction – as Enron did not – between
winning
… and winning at all costs. An honest victory is the only
victory
in the long run, as we all intuitively know. Unfortunately,
greed
blinds that intuition all too often.
In
all the negotiations I’ve conducted throughout my career – and
there
have been many – I’ve followed one preeminent principle: unless it’s a win/win,
you both lose.
Well,
my duty this afternoon was to provide you with some intuition
as
to what the journey is like from where you are to where I am,
and
I hope I have discharged it.
Your
good fortune, class of 2002, may well be your lack of good
fortune
compared with previous years. You’ve had to strike forth
and
discover your own destinies in a difficult and hazardous world,
and,
in so doing, you have stepped outside yourselves into a bigger
and
tougher but more rewarding world. I have always believed and
I
have taught my children and grandchildren that great success is
not
built on success. It is built on failure, frustration and sometimes even
calamity.
As
the American writer, J.A. Holmes, once observed, "it is well
to
remember that the entire population of the universe, with one
trifling
exception, is composed of others."
We
all had a powerful reminder of that truth last fall, as we came
face
to face with the sadistic egos of the few and the selfless
heroism
of the many. Last September’s tragic events powerfully readjusted
our
collective and individual priorities and reminded us all that
our
ultimate legacy is the difference we make in the lives of others.
Each
of us will define that notion of “service to others” in our
own
unique way. For my part, I teach. Early in my career with the
Department
of Justice, I taught at the University of San Francisco Law School.
Later,
I designed a course called "Law of the Entertainment Industry,"
which
I taught for five hours a week for several years at the Boston
University
Law School. I’ve since been a regular visiting professor
at
Brandeis University and at Harvard Law School, and I must tell
you,
these have been among the most fulfilling activities of my career.
It's
a learning experience as well as a teaching experience, and
it
has provided me with the opportunity to give something back to
the
academic community – a community that has given so very much to me.
I
encourage all of you to explore any and all opportunities to pass
along
the benefits of your experience to those who will follow.
This
may sound like jargon, but it is not – it will add to your
own
self-esteem and enhance the pleasure of how you work and live.
An
important part of that experience is the time you have spent
here.
You will find that it forms a bridge to a larger world, a
bridge
based on warmth, on caring, on community and, yes, on expectations.
That
larger world will engulf you; you can never completely escape it.
But
you will find that the commitment to excellence – that passion
to
win – that this school has instilled in you will serve you well
all
the days that will follow. My early days at Boston Latin School
and
later at Harvard inspired in me both the ability to achieve
great
success and the character to withstand tremendous disappointment.
At
Kellogg, you have learned to think analytically ... To organize
your
mind to accept and assess every possible option ... Every potential
avenue.
But more importantly, Kellogg has taught you to act on that
knowledge,
decisively and aggressively. While you arrived here knowing
how
to take a chance, you leave here knowing how to take the right
one.
Trust your gut. Be a risk taker.
I
recognize that it has been a long day, so let me leave you with
the
following observation on life by the poet, Emily
Dickinson.
She wrote, "to live is so startling, it leaves little time for
anything else."
That, to me, is the definition of a life lived to the fullest, and
one I strive to fulfill every day.
Life
should not be a passive exercise. Rather it should be engaging
...
And challenging ... And enriching.
If
we waste it ... If we place limits on it... If we disregard its
opportunities,
then we have denied not only ourselves, but all those
who
could have been touched by our efforts.
I
hope that you feel the same as I ... And that you greet the life
and
the career that await you with the same vigor that attended
your
studies. I commend you on your past accomplishments.
Now,
at the risk of being repetitive, let me remind you – trust
your
instinct. Don’t be a follower. Live dangerously. If there is
a
choice, take a chance. And remember – in the world in which you
will
live, the world in which I live now, like it or not, winning
is
everything.
Thank
you.