Cisco's Chamber(s) Of Horrors
Michael S. Malone, Forbes.com, 05.17.01, 12:01 AM ET
Who could have guessed that the enduring image of the Internet bubble
burst would be the John Chambers meltdown.
Six months ago, when the magnitude of the dot-com crash became
apparent, I would have predicted that the face of the bust would be some
neo-Dorothea Lange photograph of a young dot-commer, tears running
past his or her nose ring, shuffling out of a South Park or Flatiron office
tower, pink slip in one hand, cardboard box of foosball trophies and
mousepads in the other.
Instead, it is the cherubic, grown-up Kewpie doll face of John Chambers,
the man recently lauded as the best chief executive in America, on the
television with an edge of hysteria in his gentlemanly Southern drawl,
announcing the Apocalypse as if it was Cisco Systems's (nasdaq: CSCO
- news - people) newest router. "A hundred-year flood can happen in your
lifetime," he publicly wailed back in April as his company's stock
collapsed.
Hardly the expected buck-up words from the head of the world's most
valuable tech company. What happened?
A year ago, Cisco was the darling not only of Wall Street, but of every
portfolio in America. The company's market value was greater than the
combined U.S. automobile industry--with the entire steel industry tossed
in to make up the difference. But more than that, Cisco had managed to
penetrate into the consciousness of Main Street, U.S.A., to a degree
unmatched by another technology company outside of IBM (nyse: IBM -
news - people), Apple Computer (nasdaq: AAPL - news - people) and Intel
(nasdaq: INTC - news - people). I remember being amazed while talking
to friends and family members who proudly informed me that they'd
bought tons of Cisco stock at nosebleed price-to-earnings ratios--and at
what would also prove to be market highs.
I'd ask them, "Do you know what Cisco does?"
"Sure," they'd reply, "It's like something to do with the Internet."
Like just about everybody else in tech, I submerged my own doubts about
Cisco. I wasn't dumb enough to buy stock in the company at those nutso
prices, but I also didn't go out of my way to dissuade loved ones from a
purchase. What if I was wrong? Everybody from their broker to the trade
press to CNBC was calling Cisco the wonder company of the age, a
can't-miss investment. Maybe I was the chump, watching the others drive
off down the road to router riches, while I was left behind in the middle of
the highway choking dust.
We all know what happened next. None of my near and dear had enough
invested to get killed by the Cisco meltdown. That miserable fate--thanks
to the alternative minimum tax --was left to all those Cisco middle
managers who exercised their options at a high price, then held their
shares hoping for a break on long-term capital gains. Those poor devils
are now wiped out, owing the Federal Reserve Bank millions in taxes on
shares that are now only worth thousands. In fact, most of the people I
know still holding Cisco stock have swallowed hard and dug in for the
long haul, in the belief that any company so valuable to the economy will
eventually regain its value.
That remains to be seen. What interests me now is the behavior of John
Chambers. Has there been in recent memory a comparable collection of
outbursts from a person at such a lofty level in American business?
Certainly there have been family feuds, like those pompadoured owners
of Crown Books and the carrion eaters feasting on Anna Nicole Smith's
wizened soul mate. But blood is different.
Perhaps the closest comparison I can think of is John Akers' last few days
at IBM, where he was frothing and banging on tables in mortal fear of the
collapse of "America's Greatest Company." As history showed, he had a
right to be worried.
Is that true as well for John Chambers and Cisco? Should my family circle
cut their already immense losses and run? How about you?
Having talked to compatriots around Silicon Valley, I can only offer three
possible scenarios for Chambers' behavior:
1. A House Built On Sand:
It has scarcely been reported in the press, but it will probably show up in
history books of this era that the downturn took the big tech companies
completely by surprise. Perhaps they should have known better, but by the
end of 2000, gravity itself seemed to be defeated. Sure the dot-coms were
starting to die, but the market was still strong. Orders for everything from
chips to servers were still rolling in. The old pros were growing tired of
playing Cassandra, their predictions proven wrong every time over the
previous four years. December 2000 orders too were looking strong.
2001-calendar-year planning was going into final approval rounds with
senior management, and there was no reason to believe that the new
year was going to be anything more than a slightly tempered reprise of the
one before. The boom would see a record ninth year.
Then all hell broke loose. What had seemed a continuation was in fact a
culmination. Customers closed out their orders and didn't renew. Worse,
half of the apparent demand turned out to be that old nemesis of tech:
multiple orders to guarantee delivery. Suddenly, one fulfilled or cancelled
order was in fact three or four. From chips to PCs to telecom, the market
seemed to evaporate overnight. Even the most prudent companies found
themselves with too much inventory and too little demand--hence the
massive burst of earnings warnings at the beginning of the year.
And Cisco? It had flown the highest, and so it took the most precipitous
fall. Worse, reportedly the company's sales force was still sending in
optimistic reports right up until the crash. So now picture John Chambers:
right through Christmas he's still getting reports that orders are strong,
and based on that he is still investing in the company's expansion, still
buying other companies... and then, almost overnight, the entire business
goes away. It would be enough to make anybody a raving crazy for a while.
2. The Wang Flashback:
A more psychological explanation for Chamber's behavior includes the
above, but adds another wrinkle--one that explains why his behavior has
been so much wackier than all the other CEOs in the same boat. People
often forget that long before he found fame and glory at the helm of Cisco,
Chambers helped preside over the last days of Wang Computer.
Wang was a fine company and a wonderful corporate citizen. It built
much-admired minicomputers and workstations and had justly achieved
revenues of $1 billion. Unfortunately, Wang fell victim to what we now call
a "category destruction." Technological advances suddenly made minis
obsolete, leaving Wang (and Data General and DEC) without a business.
It also didn't help that founder An Wang had also put his son, Fred, in
charge. In the end, Wang became like a runaway wagon heading down a
mountainside. No amount of steering or yanking on the reins could keep it
from disaster. Holding those reins near the end was John Chambers. The
experience must have been awful, even scarring.
Who's to say, whisper Valley veterans, that when Chambers saw Cisco's
numbers evaporate, he didn't flash back on the horror of Wang and fear it
was about to happen again?
3. Wrapped in the Flag:
Finally, this last scenario abandons the wacked-out Chambers in the
other scenarios for a more cynical one. George Gilder, who is often wrong
in detail, but almost always right on the big picture, has been pointing out
for months that Cisco is in much worse competitive shape than it seems.
The problem is legacy: The infrastructure of the Internet is rapidly moving
towards optical technology in order to handle the speed and bandwidth
that will be required by the next generation of the Web. Cisco, by
comparison, as the world's largest equipment maker for the Net, is
trapped in digital in order to support its enormous installed base. It is a
giant dinosaur trying to rule a world increasingly inhabited by tiny, fast
mammals.
Just as worrisome, Cisco built itself so quickly due largely through an
unequalled program of mergers and acquisitions. M&A is at the heart of
the company's long-term strategy--and with its stock crushed, there is no
money left for that. In other words, the company can't turn, and it can't
move forward.
Perhaps Chambers knew that. And if the stock collapse caught him by
surprise, it also presented an opportunity: Why not present Cisco's
problems as systemic, not structural--the consequence of being the
poster child of the new economy, not the victim of a bad business model.
Hiding behind a recession just might give the company an excuse to shirk
its legacy and buy time to change direction.
Which of these three scenarios do I believe? Probably the first, with maybe
a soupcon of the second. On the other hand, John Chambers is a very,
very smart businessman...
Michael S. Malone, Forbes.com, 05.17.01, 12:01 AM ET
Who could have guessed that the enduring image of the Internet bubble
burst would be the John Chambers meltdown.
Six months ago, when the magnitude of the dot-com crash became
apparent, I would have predicted that the face of the bust would be some
neo-Dorothea Lange photograph of a young dot-commer, tears running
past his or her nose ring, shuffling out of a South Park or Flatiron office
tower, pink slip in one hand, cardboard box of foosball trophies and
mousepads in the other.
Instead, it is the cherubic, grown-up Kewpie doll face of John Chambers,
the man recently lauded as the best chief executive in America, on the
television with an edge of hysteria in his gentlemanly Southern drawl,
announcing the Apocalypse as if it was Cisco Systems's (nasdaq: CSCO
- news - people) newest router. "A hundred-year flood can happen in your
lifetime," he publicly wailed back in April as his company's stock
collapsed.
Hardly the expected buck-up words from the head of the world's most
valuable tech company. What happened?
A year ago, Cisco was the darling not only of Wall Street, but of every
portfolio in America. The company's market value was greater than the
combined U.S. automobile industry--with the entire steel industry tossed
in to make up the difference. But more than that, Cisco had managed to
penetrate into the consciousness of Main Street, U.S.A., to a degree
unmatched by another technology company outside of IBM (nyse: IBM -
news - people), Apple Computer (nasdaq: AAPL - news - people) and Intel
(nasdaq: INTC - news - people). I remember being amazed while talking
to friends and family members who proudly informed me that they'd
bought tons of Cisco stock at nosebleed price-to-earnings ratios--and at
what would also prove to be market highs.
I'd ask them, "Do you know what Cisco does?"
"Sure," they'd reply, "It's like something to do with the Internet."
Like just about everybody else in tech, I submerged my own doubts about
Cisco. I wasn't dumb enough to buy stock in the company at those nutso
prices, but I also didn't go out of my way to dissuade loved ones from a
purchase. What if I was wrong? Everybody from their broker to the trade
press to CNBC was calling Cisco the wonder company of the age, a
can't-miss investment. Maybe I was the chump, watching the others drive
off down the road to router riches, while I was left behind in the middle of
the highway choking dust.
We all know what happened next. None of my near and dear had enough
invested to get killed by the Cisco meltdown. That miserable fate--thanks
to the alternative minimum tax --was left to all those Cisco middle
managers who exercised their options at a high price, then held their
shares hoping for a break on long-term capital gains. Those poor devils
are now wiped out, owing the Federal Reserve Bank millions in taxes on
shares that are now only worth thousands. In fact, most of the people I
know still holding Cisco stock have swallowed hard and dug in for the
long haul, in the belief that any company so valuable to the economy will
eventually regain its value.
That remains to be seen. What interests me now is the behavior of John
Chambers. Has there been in recent memory a comparable collection of
outbursts from a person at such a lofty level in American business?
Certainly there have been family feuds, like those pompadoured owners
of Crown Books and the carrion eaters feasting on Anna Nicole Smith's
wizened soul mate. But blood is different.
Perhaps the closest comparison I can think of is John Akers' last few days
at IBM, where he was frothing and banging on tables in mortal fear of the
collapse of "America's Greatest Company." As history showed, he had a
right to be worried.
Is that true as well for John Chambers and Cisco? Should my family circle
cut their already immense losses and run? How about you?
Having talked to compatriots around Silicon Valley, I can only offer three
possible scenarios for Chambers' behavior:
1. A House Built On Sand:
It has scarcely been reported in the press, but it will probably show up in
history books of this era that the downturn took the big tech companies
completely by surprise. Perhaps they should have known better, but by the
end of 2000, gravity itself seemed to be defeated. Sure the dot-coms were
starting to die, but the market was still strong. Orders for everything from
chips to servers were still rolling in. The old pros were growing tired of
playing Cassandra, their predictions proven wrong every time over the
previous four years. December 2000 orders too were looking strong.
2001-calendar-year planning was going into final approval rounds with
senior management, and there was no reason to believe that the new
year was going to be anything more than a slightly tempered reprise of the
one before. The boom would see a record ninth year.
Then all hell broke loose. What had seemed a continuation was in fact a
culmination. Customers closed out their orders and didn't renew. Worse,
half of the apparent demand turned out to be that old nemesis of tech:
multiple orders to guarantee delivery. Suddenly, one fulfilled or cancelled
order was in fact three or four. From chips to PCs to telecom, the market
seemed to evaporate overnight. Even the most prudent companies found
themselves with too much inventory and too little demand--hence the
massive burst of earnings warnings at the beginning of the year.
And Cisco? It had flown the highest, and so it took the most precipitous
fall. Worse, reportedly the company's sales force was still sending in
optimistic reports right up until the crash. So now picture John Chambers:
right through Christmas he's still getting reports that orders are strong,
and based on that he is still investing in the company's expansion, still
buying other companies... and then, almost overnight, the entire business
goes away. It would be enough to make anybody a raving crazy for a while.
2. The Wang Flashback:
A more psychological explanation for Chamber's behavior includes the
above, but adds another wrinkle--one that explains why his behavior has
been so much wackier than all the other CEOs in the same boat. People
often forget that long before he found fame and glory at the helm of Cisco,
Chambers helped preside over the last days of Wang Computer.
Wang was a fine company and a wonderful corporate citizen. It built
much-admired minicomputers and workstations and had justly achieved
revenues of $1 billion. Unfortunately, Wang fell victim to what we now call
a "category destruction." Technological advances suddenly made minis
obsolete, leaving Wang (and Data General and DEC) without a business.
It also didn't help that founder An Wang had also put his son, Fred, in
charge. In the end, Wang became like a runaway wagon heading down a
mountainside. No amount of steering or yanking on the reins could keep it
from disaster. Holding those reins near the end was John Chambers. The
experience must have been awful, even scarring.
Who's to say, whisper Valley veterans, that when Chambers saw Cisco's
numbers evaporate, he didn't flash back on the horror of Wang and fear it
was about to happen again?
3. Wrapped in the Flag:
Finally, this last scenario abandons the wacked-out Chambers in the
other scenarios for a more cynical one. George Gilder, who is often wrong
in detail, but almost always right on the big picture, has been pointing out
for months that Cisco is in much worse competitive shape than it seems.
The problem is legacy: The infrastructure of the Internet is rapidly moving
towards optical technology in order to handle the speed and bandwidth
that will be required by the next generation of the Web. Cisco, by
comparison, as the world's largest equipment maker for the Net, is
trapped in digital in order to support its enormous installed base. It is a
giant dinosaur trying to rule a world increasingly inhabited by tiny, fast
mammals.
Just as worrisome, Cisco built itself so quickly due largely through an
unequalled program of mergers and acquisitions. M&A is at the heart of
the company's long-term strategy--and with its stock crushed, there is no
money left for that. In other words, the company can't turn, and it can't
move forward.
Perhaps Chambers knew that. And if the stock collapse caught him by
surprise, it also presented an opportunity: Why not present Cisco's
problems as systemic, not structural--the consequence of being the
poster child of the new economy, not the victim of a bad business model.
Hiding behind a recession just might give the company an excuse to shirk
its legacy and buy time to change direction.
Which of these three scenarios do I believe? Probably the first, with maybe
a soupcon of the second. On the other hand, John Chambers is a very,
very smart businessman...