Introduction: The Process of Enron

Enron always lived dangerously. The peril began in 1984 just months after Ken Lay took charge of predecessor company Houston Natural Gas (HNG) and grew until Enron’s bankruptcy in December 2001. What kept Enron in harm’s way during those 17 years was less unfavorable industry conditions than Lay’s conviction that extraordinary growth, tied to a grand narrative, would create an ever more dominant company.

In year 1, Ken Lay paid top dollar (and more) for two interstate pipelines, then engineered a merger based on his side’s exaggerated projection of profit. By mid-1985, the originally cash-rich HNG had become debt-laden HNG/InterNorth, a company with (in Lay’s words) “no margin for error.”

Enron would skate on thin ice in the next years, even dodging one near-death experience. But the CEO, empowered and emboldened, was looking for the type of growth that required new businesses—and new practices.

Into the 1990s, Enron’s earnings streak was the talk of the industry. But the Lay Way included a number of distinct, aggressive behaviors. Enron was entering into very large commitments that relied on educated guess and hope, not mitigated risk. Quick fixes to enlarge current earnings sacrificed the future. Important pockets of profit turned on political favor at home and on unstable, anticapitalist regimes abroad.

Still more, Enron’s fastest-growing division reported earnings that were subjectively derived, not objectively accrued. Abuse was just ahead.

Enron became hooked on outsized earnings growth, quarter to quarter, year after year. ENE was a momentum stock, with Lay assuring everyone about the future. Employees, heavily vested in ENE, were thinking big and fast—just as the CEO wanted.

When the inevitable slowdowns and reversals came, Enron resorted to financial machinations and half-truth disclosures to keep the narrative going. This misfeasance brought short-term relief but also a weakened future. Dodging new trouble invited still more imprudent actions and sharp practices. Such was the process of Enron,1 by which deviations from best practices grew, corrupting the company’s engines and controls, even as the overall structure soared higher.2

Enron Ascending documents this process as manifest in the half-dozen major businesses that operated under Enron parentage between 1984 and 1996. Three market-oriented divisions—natural gas transmission, exploration and production, and gas liquids—were marked by prudence, probity, and productiveness. Not coincidentally, they had also been the core at HNG and at InterNorth. But Enron’s other three divisions (natural gas and power marketing, power development, renewables and clean fuels) were government-enabled and prone to imprudence and hyperbole—the very antithesis of good business identified by classical liberals since the days of Adam Smith.

This introduction-cum-summary highlights the major themes and key facts from the large body of business history to come. Two major conclusions emerge.

First, Enron’s ultimate fate arose naturally from the practices of its first dozen years. In particular, the Valhalla oil-trading scandal in 1987 (chapter 4) has been well analyzed by others as an adumbration of Enron’s fate. But this book identifies and connects many more deviations from best practices—often small, but some large—in order to highlight the process by which early decisions and flaws evolved to put and keep Enron in peril.

The why of Enron’s collapse is found in the company’s post-1996 injudicious investments and accounting legerdemain, the exposure of which brought on bankruptcy in late 2001—and wonderment that it did not happen sooner.

This leaves the why behind the why, the far less understood business strategy and personal motivations that inspired the all-too-frequent missteps and mistruths prior to 1997. Viewed chronologically, with each sector of the company examined in detail, the process of Enron becomes apparent prior to 1997, not just afterwards.

What explains the process within Enron, the related institutional failures outside Enron, and the utter surprise of it all for so many constituencies? The answer is found in this book’s second conclusion: Ken Lay’s enterprise was the least-capitalistic megacompany in modern US history, creating its own model along the way. This characteristic is the common denominator that elucidates a saga which otherwise appears abrupt, unfathomable, and even irrational.

No prior analysis has made this connection. Progressives interpreted Enron as the supreme embodiment of unchecked capitalism and institutionalized greed. Exaggeration, deceit, ill-gotten riches, and cronyism marked Ken Lay’s enterprise. Their prescription: less economic freedom and more public-interested government regulation to protect citizens from selfish, destructive market behaviors.

Probusiness analysts, conservative or libertarian, on the other hand, dismissed Enron as just the proverbial bad apple. Apologies were in order, not major regulatory reform. The market, after all, had punished the guilty and gained many valuable lessons in the process.

In short, Enron was symptomatic of the economic system to the Left but unrepresentative of capitalism to the Right.

Both positions have validity. Enron was symptomatic of our culture and political economy yet had little to do with capitalism. Reconciling these viewpoints requires a new term—even an entirely new lexicon. The syndrome of symptoms embodied in Enron’s life and death was contra-capitalism, a nonideological pattern of behaviors systematically antithetical to the moral, economic, and political precepts of classical liberalism.

Contra-Capitalism

Best-practices capitalism has its opposite in behaviors that characteristically fail to result in mutually beneficial exchange and wealth production. But without a concept to denote such behaviors, proponents of free-market capitalism were flummoxed by Ken Lay’s enterprise. Embarrassed, the editorial board of the Wall Street Journal could only opine that Enron was “a problem for anyone who believes in markets.” At the Cato Institute, chairman Willian Niskanen went into damage control, raising money, assembling scholars, and publishing articles and books to better decipher this new reputational threat to capitalism.

For Progressives, Enron-as-capitalism was a welcome game changer after two decades of increasing appreciation for markets. Just months after one of the most traumatic events in US history, Paul Krugman wrote in the New York Times: “I predict in the years ahead Enron, not September 11, will come to be seen as the greater turning point in U.S. society.” Other staunch critics of capitalism predicted the decline of free-market advocacy and pronounced the need for universal, mandated ethics training for business students in order to moderate the allegedly antisocial motivations of capitalists.

What made the Progressives’ case seem obvious is that Enron’s principals were not ideological foes of capitalism. Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling proclaimed their belief in free markets and spoke often about the virtues of competition, deregulation, liberalization, and privatization. Government—not markets—was their stated foe, even the butt of derision. (“Imperfect markets,” Lay liked to say, “are often better than perfect regulation.”)

But actions speak louder than words. The bad behaviors of Enron—market deception, gamed accounting, engineered finance, government largesse, and general hubris—have long been recognized by procapitalists as inconsistent with the ethics, economics, and politics of the free market. Until now, however, such deviancy was dismissed as atypical, not pronounced and interrelated enough to constitute an ism.

Enron was culturally symptomatic. It was not one man’s Ponzi scheme, like Bernie Madoff’s investment fund. Nor was Ken Lay just hopelessly over his head, like WorldCom’s Bernie Ebbers. Enron was revered inside the business community and lionized outside it. Ken Lay had a doctorate in economics, and Jeff Skilling graduated at the top of his class at the Harvard Business School. Enron was peopled by the best and brightest, almost all highly educated.

Contra-capitalist management has three characteristics. Most obviously, the pursuit of corporate profit through government-sanctioned coercion (rent-seeking) is contra-capitalistic because it makes exchange involuntary, if only for taxpayers subsidizing a particular business practice. In a free market, government neutrally enables production and trade by prohibiting force and fraud. Absent physical coercion or false representation under the rule of law, transactions are voluntary, and win-win outcomes are fostered.

More subtly, as this history will document, Enron relied on government in ways that went far beyond simple corporate welfare. In his late 20s and early 30s as a government bureaucrat, if not before in his study of political economy, Ken Lay learned how companies could profit from regulatory changes intended to serve the public interest.

Contra-capitalism also includes reliance on legal (nonprosecutable) dishonesty, which breaches the counterparty’s ability to enter into beneficial exchange. Short of criminal fraud under the rule of law, philosophic fraud denotes those (nonprosecutable) behaviors that are merely devious, unethical, or delusory—all at the expense of fair dealing and mutually advantageous outcomes. In a peculiarly odious twist on philosophic fraud, Enron devised (legal) financial structures so mind-numbingly complex as to be impenetrable, leaving investors to rely on its (trumped-up) reputation.

Third, and most subtly, contra-capitalism subsumes violations of bourgeois moral virtues (for example: prudence, caution, humility, forethought, and frugality) that tend to foster profitable, sustainable production and trade.3 But as classical liberal Samuel Smiles insisted back in the 19th century, virtue also includes the character traits of courtesy, politeness, and reverence, which came to be in short supply at mighty Enron.

Although the term contra-capitalist was not coined in Capitalism at Work (Book 1 of this series), its first three chapters sketched out the philosophic foundations of capitalism and highlighted Enron’s innumerable violations of that long tradition. Enron’s modus operandi was contrasted with that of Market-Based Management, an organizational philosophy codified by the classical-liberal entrepreneur Charles Koch. His The Science of Success (2007) and Good Profit (2015) showed how the traditional virtues and principles of the free market applied to the firm. Business practices within contra-capitalism (the mirror opposite of Koch’s Market-Based Management) systematically violate the traditional virtues and principles behind free-market prosperity and a flourishing civil society.

The present book documents how many employees and divisions, taking their cue from the top, contributed to Enron’s cascading problems and, eventually, calamitous end. Market-violating practices and bad profits overwhelmed the good. Led by Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling, contra-capitalists extraordinaire, Enron became a uniquely contra-capitalist enterprise.

Enron’s contra-capitalism reflected ideas that dominated late-20th-century business and society, although Ken Lay brought its practice to unprecedented heights. Lay did not embark on a contra-capitalist strategy (such practices had not been isolated or defined). Lay’s training and outsized ambition simply led him in a contra-capitalist direction. A politicized industry (energy) and America’s political economy offered that path—or slippery slope, as it would turn out.

Ascendant philosophies buttressed some of Enron’s uniquely aggressive practices. Ideas have consequences, and prevailing doctrines of political economy and political correctness were keenly noted by a move-on-all-fronts CEO.4 Ironically, anticapitalist academics and politicians who promoted such doctrines as Pragmatism, Progressivism, and Postmodernism helped create the very entity they would later falsely denounce as capitalism.5

Although it may seem implausible to argue that Enron’s business-management practices had direct philosophic affinity with the academy’s anticapitalist theories, consider that Enron, until the end, was beloved by much of America’s left-wing intelligentsia. And today, that same intelligentsia reviles the very company that is most unlike Enron, the one most based on classical-liberal management.6

Primrose Paths, Slippery Slopes

Enron’s contra-capitalism—what would be later condemned as “ethical drift” and “defining deviancy down”—was not born whole but evolved. In fits and starts, Ken Lay’s struggle to grow Enron rapidly yet maintain investor confidence pitted sound business practices against contra-capitalist ones: sophisticated risk avoidance against imprudent risk taking, honest accounting against earnings manipulation, and wealth creation against rent-seeking.

This is not to say that all Enron’s well-made decisions succeeded or that all its contra-capitalist undertakings failed. Business is not so simple. During Enron’s forgotten years of 1984–1996, however, the company’s contra-capitalist practices were present and growing, a process that would accelerate and become unstoppable in the following years.

Enron lived on the edge. But for thousands of employees, of whom I was one, there was more excitement than foreboding in the service of a Great Man of Industry. Chairman Lay seemed to be escaping business as usual in a traditionally run industry to make ours into more than just another Fortune 500 company. New strategies, even wholly new ways of doing business, seemed to outdistance the competition, time and again, to put Enron in a league of its own.

What was Lay’s new, superior business model? Not asset redeployment; that was the norm in the 1980s for Enron’s upstream and midstream rivals in a buyer’s market for natural gas. Natural gas integration was part of the plan, but federal regulation limited the synergies between Enron’s wide-ranging gas transmission and its national marketing network. Attracting and retaining superior management was certainly key, but competitors were noticeably picking off Enron’s talent by 1988. Simply being bolder than the competition did win extraordinary profits, but it produced major write-offs too.

Something else was required to turn the normalized returns of competitive markets into double-digit, multiyear uninterrupted growth. Enron’s answer was a strategy that circumvented market rigors and norms in unprecedented ways.

That is not to indict Ken Lay as an iniquitous executive. In fact, he had many endearing and admirable qualities. But his business practices were, unfortunately, a reflection of his times, carried to an extreme by his extraordinary, hurried ambition. In place of nefarious intent, this CEO became entrapped by the process of Enron, a tyranny of small decisions and path dependence, whereby imprudence took Enron from health to precariousness to ruination, much to Lay’s surprise.

Process analysis explains how Enron’s life implied the nature of its death. It says, in outline, that Ken Lay, a child of the 20th century’s mixed economy and pragmatism, failed to see how personal circumvention of traditional bourgeois morality was linked to legal circumventions of accounting, regulatory, and tax codes, as well as to profits achieved by politically bypassing the free market.

Ultimately, Lay failed to envision how a business heavily based on imprudence, deceit, and political cronyism was unsustainable, if pushed too far and too fast. Tracing and explicating Enron’s embrace of such contra-capitalism is the normative purpose of this book.

This book details Enron’s birth, adolescence, and maturation—a period that lasted roughly from 1984 to 1996. The genuine achievements that led most observers to believe that Enron was historically great are detailed. So too are the risky, rash, and even reckless actions whereby Enron pushed itself ever faster toward the goal of supreme eminence. It is here that an exposé emerges of the contra-capitalist ethos that pervaded Enron in attitude, interpersonal relations, legal interpretation, and political strategy.

Enron’s beginning was not necessarily more contra-capitalist than other natural gas firms of the 1980s, certainly including Lay’s prior company, Transco Energy.7 That is why this Introduction emphasizes process, whereby relatively small violations of bourgeois morality and best-practices management laid down precedents for the catastrophic sins that occurred after 1996. These well-chronicled misdeeds had precedents, even during the Richard Kinder era—a revelation that is part of this book’s historical revisionism.

By the mid-1990s, Enron was not above misleading people to boost its narrative of recent and prospective growth, a practice begun several years earlier with its subjective estimates of current profit from long-term contracts. During one quarter of 1996, as discussed in chapter 11, Enron stared at a $190 million shortfall from its promised quarterly profit, owing to severe trading losses in its prized unit. (Enron was taking large positions—something it told investors it was not doing—which sometimes lost.) Having never missed a quarterly target, ENE could plunge on such bad news.

At the last minute, Enron’s high-powered accountants, most hired in the early 1990s, declared that assets held in a co-owned investment vehicle were not core assets but assets being held for resale. A switch from historical basis to “fair value” (mark-to-market) basis generated the needed (paper) profits. Perception maintained by Lay, Kinder, and Skilling; crisis averted.

Conflicts of Interest

Creating and exploiting conflicts of interest was another contra-capitalist practice within the process of Enron. The index in Malcolm Salter’s scholarly tome on Enron includes 15 such entries.

Serving two masters instead of one climaxed when Enron’s board of directors waived a conflict-of-interest provision for CFO Andy Fastow, allowing him to manage special-purpose entities (SPEs) buying assets from Enron.8 On at least 13 occasions, the Enron employees with whom Fastow was negotiating were his underlings as CFO.

Then again, these major deviations had precedent during Enron’s forgotten years. One conflict emanated from the Omaha-based InterNorth side following the 1985 merger when Arthur Andersen was retained as auditor in order to keep its Omaha office open. HNG’s auditor was dismissed, leaving Andersen for both auditing and consulting for the combined company. But perhaps the earliest conflict of interest began when the new CEO steered HNG’s travel business to his sister’s firm, of which he was part owner.

The conflict-of-interest precedents grew when Lay allowed employee-turned-consultant John Wing to be on both sides of Enron’s cogeneration deals. Fastow’s waiver also repeated the experience, qualitatively speaking, of Enron spin-off Enron Global Power & Pipelines (EPP), in which the public as minority owner was represented by Enron-controlled management. (This 1994–96 experiment was terminated when EPP rejoined Enron.) There was also Andy Fastow’s opaque, even blatantly dishonest, partnership in early 1997 that allowed Enron to skirt regulatory requirements with its purchase and resale of wind power facilities.

In short, what happened at Enron during its last years of boom and bust flowed—logically, predictably, almost inevitably—from the company’s beginnings and growth. It is here that this corporate Bildungsroman elucidates the cause-and-effect processes that led up to the oft-mentioned but inadequately explained “post-1997 drift from innovation to reckless gambling to deceptive management.”

Chairman Lay

“An institution is the lengthened shadow of one man.” That was certainly the case at Enron. The company that became Enron began in mid-1984 when the erstwhile president and COO of Transco Energy Company arrived at 1200 Travis Street in downtown Houston as chairman and CEO of Houston Natural Gas Corporation. Kenneth Lee Lay remade the company in his first months and then orchestrated a reverse merger to create HNG/InterNorth in 1985. The next year, the nation’s largest and most-integrated natural gas company was renamed Enron.

Enron is the story of its founder and leader—and wonder boy of his industry. Ken Lay was chairman from June 1984 until January 2002, when Enron was in receivership. He ceded his president’s title to John “Mick” Seidl in 1986, retook it upon Seidl’s departure in early 1989, and ceded it for good to three consecutive individuals: Rich Kinder (1990–96), Jeff Skilling (1997–2001), and Mark Frevert (2001).9 Lay was CEO until Enron’s last 10 months as an operating company, when Jeff Skilling and then Greg Whalley briefly held the title.10

More than Enron’s visionary, Ken Lay was an industry visionary, championing natural gas as the premium fuel compared to coal and oil in the all-important electric-generation market. (He briefly held a natural gas vision for transportation also.) Lay was highly likable, empathetic, and God-like to his employees. He was measured and diplomatic in public arenas. He was revered by his board of directors, highly respected by the media, and a go-to person for many external constituencies—all this until Enron’s death spiral began in the summer of 2001.

Others were certainly important in Enron’s tumult, beginning with Jeff Skilling and including, through 1996, Rich Kinder. Lou Pai, Rebecca Mark, and particularly Andy Fastow were key figures, followed by Richard Causey, Ken Rice, and Kevin Hannon. But Lay enabled these individuals and set the tone and expectations for all. He was both the head and the figurehead of Enron.

Highly ambitious. Always in spin mode. Washington expert and insider. Media driven. An “inveterate collector of relationships.” Primed to make a phone call, write a check, or give a speech. Friend of Republicans, Democrats, environmentalists, academics, think tanks, charities, churches, schools, minorities. Folksy or intellectual (“the voice of God with a sense of humor”). Ken Lay was a private-sector politician, a politico CEO, with local, state, national, and even international reach.

To his few but perceptive critics, however, this friend of everyone was something else: a chameleon, or what Ayn Rand called a second hander.11

Why did it all happen at Enron? The quick answer is Ken Lay, who was the right person at the right time given the political opportunities and incentives for all energy CEOs in Enron’s era. But leadership makes a company. By background and upbringing, Ken Lay was driven to seek the pinnacle of success for himself and his firm—and to gain it rapidly, not eventually. By temperament and training, big-picture, Washington-wise Ken Lay was not at all the free-market apostle of his proclamations (“I believe in God, and I believe in free markets”), declarations that came to be taken at face value by the press. (“He was widely known as a free-market advocate and an outspoken lobbyist for deregulation.”)

On the contrary, Lay was a political capitalist who never hesitated to exploit extramarket advantage if it was available—or to create such an advantage if it was not. This PhD economist with a penchant for the written and spoken word was a politician-CEO who deployed good-sounding rationalizations (competition, national security, diversity, consumer benefits, empowerment, momentum, success) to promote less-than-free competition and tolerate behavior that fell short of prudence and veracity.12

“The constant theme in Mr. Lay’s career over the last three decades is his understanding of the symbiotic relationship between business and politics and his willingness to aggressively play the game,” read a New York Times retrospective following Enron’s collapse. Books on Enron, too, have noted Lay’s free-market, procompetition image was at odds with Enron’s active politics.13 But far more than a side matter, political capitalism was the “constant theme” of Ken Lay’s career.

Appetite for Risk

Ken Lay began with a financially strong company in a weak market. But the status quo was unacceptable to him, notwithstanding the fact that HNG stockholders needed to be made whole after previous management’s rebuff of a rich tender offer. HNG would need to meld with other companies in order to retain its independence and lead the industry.

In his first six months, the acquisition of two major pipelines by HNG’s new CEO doubled the size of the company—and doubled the debt-to-capitalization ratio to 59 percent. Just months later, the InterNorth merger doubled the size of the company again, leaving a debt-to-capitalization ratio of 73 percent, twice what is considered prudent.

These moves were all about size and reach—with little change in market valuation. The promise of higher profitability was undercut by increased debt service. With lower credit ratings, Lay’s colossus became dependent on high-interest junk bonds, pioneered by Drexel Burnham Lambert’s Michael Milken. (Jim Alexander, a Drexel employee later with Enron, remembered how “we helped refinance Enron’s huge amounts of debt that were about to go into technical default.”) This put the operating units on the firing line to cover debt service, while shouldering Lay’s first-class overhead.

The resulting Enron, impressive in terms of assets and storyline, was financially weak. In their first 19 months together, HNG and InterNorth lost more than $100 million, a far cry from the $420 million in net income that the two companies collectively made in premerger 1984. Precarious debt of 70 percent of total company capitalization at year-end 1987 resulted in higher interest rates than better-capitalized companies paid.

In many ways, the fate of an oil-trading unit symbolized the company’s early years. Enron Oil Corporation (EOC), located in Valhalla, New York, was prized for requiring little capital while producing high earnings. Clear evidence of misfeasance at EOC was met only by finger shaking from Ken Lay, who was willing to live dangerously in order to (in his mind) keep the cash coming.

Soon enough, that unit’s earnings proved to be fictitious, requiring a major write-off in 1987. This “canary in the coal mine,” in terms of Enron’s ultimate fate, began with “sirens and denials,” followed by “crisis and cleanup,” and ended in the unit’s dissolution (chapter 4). Had Valhalla’s losses been greater, as they very nearly were, Ken Lay’s career at Enron might have ended 15 years earlier—and less tragically than it did.

Confidence, Optimism, Hubris

The risk-taking über-optimist had a chip on his shoulder. Ken Lay had started behind the eight ball in rural Missouri and again as the new CEO of a cash-rich, prospect-poor Fortune 500 company. (HNG’s market capitalization at year-end 1984 was below that in each of the previous three years.) But never did he feel cornered; quite the opposite. Lay excelled as a child, as a teenager, and in college. He was coordinated, musical, competitive, smart, and affable. He knew he was more talented than just about anyone else who might have grown up in more affluent circumstances or was physically bigger.

At a series of jobs, begun at a very young age, and then in every classroom, he was tops. Ken Lay was elected president of his fraternity at the University of Missouri, became a protégé of the school’s top economics professor (Pinkney Walker), and graduated Phi Beta Kappa. He was a 4.0 with street smarts, a classmate said.14 And it just went up from there at his corporate stops, as described in Edison to Enron (Book 2).

Early in his career, Ken Lay became attracted to the extraordinary in business management and to getting there first. Peter Drucker’s The Age of Discontinuity (1968), a text used by Professor Lay teaching graduate economics at George Washington University, spoke of the corporation’s need for major change in the coming era. Revolutionary change was to be Enron’s mantra; incremental improvement was the stuff of those firms Lay was determined to leap. To that end, he would spend much time in political venues seeking Big Change, delegating things back at the ranch. With Rich Kinder as COO, this all seemed to work.

Lay’s reputation grew and grew. By the time he headed Enron, Lay had emerged as Mr. Natural Gas (the first ever) with national recognition. “Ken in those early years earned a nickname,” remembered John Jennrich, the founding editor of Natural Gas Week. “And that was just simply, Saint Ken…. He was just so clearly far and away ahead of people.”

Overconfidence with a dose of hubris spawned different combinations of imprudence and philosophic fraud. But when did Enron deviancies begin? One beginning would be in 1985 during the merger negotiation with InterNorth when Lay stretched his already elongated profit projections to get a higher price for HNG—and gave his “personal assurances” that 15 percent annual growth was makeable. (It would not be, by the widest of margins.)

It certainly was present in the spring of 1987, after Arthur Andersen reported trading improprieties at Enron Oil Company to the Audit Committee of the Enron board, and Lay responded: “I have decided not to terminate these people. I need their earnings.” It was also in force in the aftermath of Valhalla, when Lay’s explanation of Enron’s close call erased the background of warnings and controversy—a cleansing so thorough that some involved employees feared for their future and hid files at home.

A Harvard Business School case study described Ken Lay as “an intense competitor who set goals with ‘a lot of stretch in them.’” Annual compounded earnings growth of 15 percent was just that. Lay’s first such goal—made to get InterNorth to pay an inflated $70 per share for HNG stock—was hubristic. Compared to premerger earnings of $1.2 billion for HNG and InterNorth as separate companies between 1982 and 1984, the next three years’ earnings as one entity were slightly in the red until a federal-income-tax reduction produced a retroactive $450 million gain. Pricey debt had more than tripled the assets of the company, with meager profitability, although cash flow was stronger. But Ken Lay, confident always, kept the mood right and expectations high for a turnaround.

Lay’s overambition also included going first class, a disdain for watching expenses closely, at least at the corporate level. “You cannot cut your costs to prosperity,” Lay would say. (Forrest Hoglund, across the street at EOG, disagreed.) Facilities and business norms had to be first class for his best and brightest. Strict cost control was beneath Enron, at the top anyway. Less innovative companies had to do that. To Lay, Enron chased dollars rather than pinched pennies.

Yet there was cost cutting in the tough years of 1985 and 1986. And in fourth-quarter 1988, expenses were pared when the management of Gas Pipeline Group and Corporate merged to make Ken Lay and Rich Kinder pipeliners, at least nominally.15 But after this, there would be nary an all-employee cost-containment initiative from Ken Lay until Enron neared its demise.

Getting Governmental

Ambition, and overambition, included getting political. It began innocently: adding highly regulated interstate gas pipelines to HNG’s lightly regulated intrastate gas system, hitherto its bread and butter. Enron was not seeking something for nothing via politics, however. It accepted the mixed-economy structure within which it could profitably create value for its counterparties (gas producers on one side, gas buyers on the other). In fact, Enron worked to lighten regulation and improve service in the interstate gas-transmission market during the entire period.

Mandatory open-access (MOA) rules were somewhat similar. In principle, it was a form of infrastructure socialism, forcing companies to provide the use of their property to other companies on equal terms. But obligatory transmission access for gas had been driven more by economist reformers than by industry rent-seekers, which, historically speaking, was more the exception than the rule.

Ken Lay simply embraced the inevitable—and welcomed a new profit center for Enron, wholesale gas marketing (as he had at Transco with Transco Energy Marketing Company). The pipelines would and did adapt to their diminished role as pure transporters, not buyers and sellers of gas as before. MOA for electricity, at both wholesale and retail, on the other hand, coming later, was Enron driven as well as reformer driven.

But gas-fired cogeneration projects by independents (nonutilities, such as Enron) were rent-seeking—or rent-reaping. The political basis had not involved Ken Lay’s lobbying, either in his Enron or prior career. It was a 1978 federal law, championed by renewable interests, that required utilities to buy the generated power at an “avoided cost,” which also applied to new, efficient gas technology. The government intervention enabled a windfall for the talented, particularly the crack team Lay attracted to Enron.

There was more, much more. Beginning in 1988, the global-warming issue became central to Enron’s messaging to substitute natural gas for coal and for oil, a start that would lead “green” Enron into solar power, wind power, environmental services, and emissions trading. In the early-to-mid 1990s, Enron burst upon the developing world to build power plants on the strength of taxpayer-aided financing from US and foreign entities. And otherwise market-driven Enron Oil & Gas Company took a political detour into tight-sands gas production in the early 1990s to capitalize on a bountiful tax credit, itself the product of deft lobbying by parent Enron.

Lay Unleashed

Ken Lay had a boss—nominally. Enron’s board of directors was composed of accomplished individuals in a range of professions, from academia (three PhDs, other than Lay), business, and even medicine. Several were current and former Enron employees, and some were handpicked by Lay based on years of personal affiliation and friendship. Only a few directors were inherited by Lay from the original HNG and InterNorth boards, some very strong and independent, at least initially.

As it would turn out, Enron’s board hardly stood at arm’s length from Ken Lay, as accomplished as the members might have been in their own professions. Inadequate separation and control is a problem at many institutions. But, as Malcolm Salter emphasized, it was a fatal characteristic at Enron, assuming that director independence would have better checked Lay’s contra-capitalist management.

In theory and practice, the interests of management should be aligned with the interests of shareholders. But a principal/agent problem emerges when management compensation and perks are not in line with value creation, as graded by consumers and affirmed by investors. The board of directors is responsible for ensuring a reasonable alignment of the interests of management and employees (agents) with the interests of owners (principals).

How did this gatekeeping role by Enron’s board become compromised? Why did such a distinguished dozen or so directors allow Enron to violate best-business practices, including time-honored conflicts-of-interest guidelines? How did the board ultimately lose control of the company?

Courting the board with princely fees and company favors was part of Lay’s largesse. But the bigger reason, certainly in Enron’s earlier life, was that the board considered Lay not only one of them but also superior.

Ken Lay became recognized as the top young talent of his industry by the early 1980s. The new 38-year-old president of Transco Companies, serving under industry leader Jack Bowen, had never disappointed. “Transco’s Ken Lay Credited as Natural Gas Innovator,” read a Houston Chronicle headline in 1983. So, when HNG lured Lay to be its new CEO in mid-1984, praise was effusive. “[We wanted] good, aggressive management, and we think we’ve found it now,” one board member told the Wall Street Journal. “We didn’t dream it would be such a significant upgrade,” raved another many years later.

Such confidence only grew, despite some ups and downs in the business. It was easy to trust Ken Lay. After all, he had always met his promises and made everyone richer, beginning with HNG shareholders in 1985 and continuing with stockholders who saw ENE quadruple in value between the mid-1980s and 1996.

Ken Lay, nominally, welcomed tough, arm’s-length oversight. “My operating philosophy regarding boards,” he stated in 1994, “is that a strong company requires a strong and independent board of directors.” And how did it work at Enron? “Occasionally, individual directors or even the entire board might disagree with my particular opinion on an issue or strategy,” he stated. “But we are always able to openly and candidly discuss and resolve our differences and move forward.”

The Great Man, however, had a board with too much confidence in him. “I’m here to support management,” stated Robert Jaedicke, the Stanford Graduate School of Business accounting professor and dean who headed Enron’s audit committee from 1985 to 2002. “I’m here to support Ken Lay.” Jaedicke did just that, from Valhalla through Fastow’s LJM ventures. This was well before the 73-year-old, who also held a half-dozen other directorships at large US corporations, found himself voting in favor of Enron’s bankruptcy filing in fourth-quarter 2001.

Figure I.1 Enron’s nominally strong board of directors had too much allegiance to Ken Lay, in part because of Enron’s largesse toward them. John Duncan, executive chairman from beginning to end, was particularly smitten with Enron’s and Lay’s apparent success.

In retrospect, Enron’s board failed both to monitor Lay and to prevent “a pattern of deceptive behavior that unfolded in incremental steps over time.” Enron’s otherwise “principled and responsible leaders in the worlds of business, education, medical research, and public service” exhibited “passive behavior as both decision makers and overseers.” Harvard’s Salter (the source of the previous quotations) identified the problem as the board’s “long-standing personal relationship and emotional bonds with Ken Lay.”

Tragedy in the Making

“Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first call promising.” Ken Lay’s tragic flaw was an overambition born of prior success and future promise. In the final analysis, Lay failed to “overcome success.” His life had always been exemplary, supremely so. A top-notch education was intertwined with early career triumphs. To those, he added a remarkable proclivity to move up rapidly whenever opportunities opened or could be created.

He had been president of Continental Resources Company for just two years when he answered the call to become president of Transco. He had been president at Transco for just three years when he answered the call to become CEO of Houston Natural Gas at age 42. Speaking of reaching the pinnacle, Ken’s wife, Linda, told a friend: “It’s fun to be the king.” The sky appeared to be the limit for a restless powerbroker. But wisdom had an adage: The higher you fly, the farther you fall.

Although the Texas-centric natural gas company was a strong Fortune 500 company, Ken Lay wanted a national, and international, presence. Natural gas might not be big enough either, in time. The industry intellect saw his potential as a philosopher-king for the whole field of energy, if not beyond, dealing with the great political-economic issues of the day. Transco had given him a good taste of that.

But Lay was going to need a bigger boat. He sought new businesses and the very best talent both on top and throughout the organization. He particularly prized convention breakers who would identify opportunities and unleash change. The business/government, government/business mixed economy offered a wide-open path for escaping the status quo.

This vision was the origin of Enron’s contra-capitalism.

Earnings Issues

Big bets and problematic investments, alongside good and solid undertakings, were characteristic of Enron in its early years and middle-age. Expensive junk-bond financing was necessary in the 1980s, and Enron was rated low investment grade by the three major US rating agencies in the 1990s.16 Downgrades had to be avoided to retain counterparty credit for trading, a silent but deadly risk for Enron.

“Kenneth L. Lay, Houston Natural Gas Corp’s chairman and chief executive officer,” the Wall Street Journal noted in 1984, “is a man in a hurry.” He would not slow down. By year-end 1987, roughly $500 million—one-eighth of Enron’s $4 billion debt—was attributable to Lay’s aggressiveness in achieving size and independence. Three major components were:

  1. Interstate pipeline premiums (1984): The purchases of Transwestern Pipeline Company and Florida Gas Transmission Company were between $100 and $200 million (10–20 percent of the purchase price) above competing bids. Although Ken Lay doubled the size of HNG, he also doubled the company’s debt ratio, “with negative credit implications.”17
  2. InterNorth overpayment (1985): Lay had InterNorth overpay for HNG by at least $5 per share, or $150 million. While getting the best price was arguably Lay’s short-run fiduciary duty, basic market ethics should have precluded using trumped-up (and thus unmeetable) earnings projections, which hurt InterNorth investors and left Enron with postmerger debt of $4.6 billion, a precarious 73 percent of the company’s total capitalization.18
  3. Jacobs buyout (1987): As the last act from the InterNorth merger, Lay bought out “corporate raider” Irwin Jacobs and Leucadia at a $200 million shareholder cost, leaving Enron’s debt load uncomfortably high even after large asset sales that year.19

Ever confident, at least in public, Lay believed that his “superstars” were smarter than the competition, not to mention the regulators at the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC) and other agencies. It was part of the CEO’s unshakable belief in himself and a higher power that good times would cover the bad and leave Enron better off than if the company had chosen the status quo—or just a more prudent path. It would not change with future acquisitions either, which were all rich and many misguided.

Icarus Projects

Risk management was proclaimed as a core competency, but Enron imprudently took on nonhedged (really nonhedgable) risk to get there first. Moving fast and loose resulted in large write-offs during the Lay/Kinder era.20 Period losses or even charges to earnings could have been more if Enron had employed mark-to-market accounting as aggressively in the down direction as in the up.

Absent the physical assets of a true energy major, Enron could scarcely have afforded any greater losses than those incurred. Four write-offs totaling $1.135 billion were taken between 1985 and 1997. Chronologically, they were:

  1. Peruvian nationalization (1985): Right after the merger of HNG and InterNorth, Belco Petroleum was forced to write down $218 million in assets, owing to expropriation by the government of Peru, with no income-tax benefit.21
  2. Valhalla (1987): An oil-trading scandal at Enron Oil Corporation in Valhalla, New York, required Enron to restate earnings for 1985 and 1986, write off $142 million ($85 million after-tax) in fourth-quarter 1987, and shutter the unit. Adroit work by an emergency team from Houston reduced the exposure from a high of $300 million, an amount that could have been still higher had the market discovered that Enron was short and out-of-the-money on approximately 85 million barrels.22 The reduced amount at close gave Enron and Ken Lay a second chance.23
  3. MTBE (1997): Enron’s “clean fuels” bet with reformulated gasoline resulted in a $100 million ($74 million after-tax) charge to earnings, which would have come sooner and been greater except for mark-to-market finagling. The “top dollar” $632 million acquisition of methyl tertiary butyl ether and methanol facilities in 1991 was never profitable, and the unit was eventually sold, only to be scrapped by its new owners.24
  4. Teesside II (1997): In the Teesside I project, Enron had successfully built and operated the world’s largest gas-fired cogeneration plant in England. In 1993, Enron’s Teesside II project went long with a 300 MMcf/d fixed-price contract for gas supply. Enron’s bet to corner the next phase of UK gas (and power) development was stymied by new gas discoveries lowering prices below those at which Enron could profitably sell the gas it was obligated to buy. The J-Block gas contract write-off was $675 million ($463 million after-tax).25

How much of this can be blamed on Ken Lay and his executives? The first of these write-offs was a legacy of the InterNorth side, but it had been identified as a special risk by HNG prior to the merger. (Government insurance and restitution from Peru would reverse most of the write-off years later.) The second write-off also came from InterNorth, but much of the transgression occurred on Lay’s watch (as well as Seidl’s and Kinder’s). Certainly, basic business judgment, right-and-wrong squarely in the bourgeois capitalist tradition, was suspended in favor of finagling, hope, and prayer.

The third charge resulted from a political-environmental wager that went wholly wrong. The final and largest write-off came from very imprudent contracts—a take-or-pay liability no less, something Enron had spent years cleaning up on its US interstate pipelines.

Nothing ventured, nothing lost, it is said. Write-offs are a part of business life amid capitalism’s creative destruction. One expects extraordinary gains to be offset, to some degree, by bets gone bad in a world where economic verdicts are always uncertain. Still, the circumstances and size of Enron’s failures put in question its adherence to those long-standing best-business practices that arose spontaneously within commercial capitalism. Corporate autopsies must ask what could have been reasonably avoided by relying on basic prudence—if not play-by-the-rules morality, including transparent and realistic accounting.

As it was, the two write-offs in 1997 (MBTE and Teesside II) would leave the company’s Enron 2000 growth narrative in tatters.26 Momentum-driven ENE, not to mention the strong credit rating essential for Jeff Skilling’s trading operation, were put at risk. Enron probably would have taken its later write-offs earlier, and taken other charges to earnings, except for a belief that its troubled assets could be finagled into solvency. That is how 1997 became the pronounced “tipping point” of Enron’s slide into spiraling deceit and philosophic fraud, whereby Ken Lay’s desired story of Enron came to replace the real one.

“I think one of the unfortunate characteristics of Enron is we tend to financially engineer things to death rather than just take our medicine in a one-off hit and get beyond it,” Tom White, an Enron senior executive, complained just months before Enron’s death spiral set in. “We expend enormous intellectual capital in trying to engineer around it—less so, I think, in the Skilling days than in the Kinder days—and this caused us some great pain over the years.” While White revealingly implicated Kinder, he obviously did not know about what Jeff Skilling and Andy Fastow had under the rug.

Postponing Write-Offs

The aforementioned write-offs were almost joined by others. Construction ceased at the multibillion-dollar Enron-led Dabhol, India, power plant in 1994 and again in 1996, owing to political turmoil and the buyer’s limited desire and ability to pay. As it turned out, modest revenue would ever be collected from the state of Maharashtra to offset $650 million in costs incurred during Enron’s solvent life.27 (Dabhol was written off after Enron’s bankruptcy.)

Other write-offs were avoided via the dubious “snowball” treatment of international project expenses that could not be offset by associated project revenues. Snowballing involved rolling the costs of failed ventures into still-to-be-negotiated ones in the same geographical area in order to prop up current-period profit. There were many no-go projects among the 75 or so that Enron Development’s Rebecca Mark would work on.

In fact, 5 out of 10 projects listed as in “final development” in Enron’s 1996 Annual Report would be terminated. The International division’s snowball reached Kinder’s $90 million ceiling and then more than doubled. Yet write-offs were not chosen “because doing so would bring Enron’s earnings below expectations,” as Enron’s top accountant at the time explained to management. Philosophic fraud, not candor and prudence, was the response to unpleasant fact.

A high-risk-to-imprudent culture resulted in other close calls in Enron’s rocket ride to prominence. One concerned the aforementioned 1,825 MW, $1.3 billion Teesside cogeneration project (1989–93). Enron had a weak balance sheet for self-financing such a large project. Project financing by outside capital required that contracts for gas supply and power sales be finalized simultaneously. Not wanting to wait, Enron employee-turned-consultant John Wing preordered the GE turbines. Enron self-financed construction for $300 million over six months while contract negotiations advanced. The gas sellers and power buyers set a strict deadline for completion—or they could walk.

In the end, the back-to-back contracts beat the deadline on the final day—and not before Enron had agreed to strict construction deadlines backed by financial penalties of £385,000 ($575,000) per day. Completion in 1993 came with just days to spare, dodging another bullet. Larry Izzo, Enron’s on-site star with the project, had been hired out of the military for just this emergency by Tom White, who himself joined Enron from the US Army, where he had been a brigadier general.28

“We were all very intense,” remembered White. “It was a crusade for us … a religious thing” to meet the deadline. The 24/7 heroics and close-call victory erased the cold-sweat memories of a potential disaster. “Few outside Enron knew how much risk the company had taken to build Teesside, and afterward, few cared,” stated one account. This ends-justified-the-means episode was a management practice that would not always triumph.

In retrospect, Ken Lay’s bet-the-company strategy was celebrated as a leap to the international market and global recognition. But Teesside’s success led to a naked bet for a second phase that went badly wrong. Facing huge losses, Teesside II would result in the largest write-off in Enron’s history, as well as another incurred liability (the CATS transportation contract) that went unreported amid Enron’s bigger problems in 2001.

Its near-failure forgotten, Teesside I’s success led to global adventurism. In developing countries, prospective profit margins, as high as 30 percent, were said to be far greater than in capitalist environs. Consequently, Enron built a string of power plants with the help of taxpayer-aided loans, a clear and recognized deviation from Enron’s free-market talk.

This government involvement, pegged at 21 official agencies, reflected a country-by-country environment inhospitable to private-party lending. Enron’s closings in more than two-dozen nations depended on getting enough government aid to placate private parties. But judging from the final results, the lure of those extraordinary profits that Enron sought via nonmarket assistance resulted in very normal rates of return (3 or 12 percent per annum for the entire portfolio, according to competing internal calculations).

Apples in noncapitalist gardens looked ripe, with up-front profit recognition and bonuses paid to the project originators. But costs were high, and actual operations proved problematic in many cases. Furthermore, these countries moved from negotiated to bid projects to reduce expected margins. The whole international unit, Enron Development, ceased originations in 1999.29

Imprudent Marketing

Pronounced risk also occurred with major contracts by Enron’s nonregulated gas-merchant business, which formed the basis of the new Enron. The progenitor was a 15-year sales contract in 1985 between Citrus Trading Corporation (half owned by Enron, with this contract 100 percent guaranteed by Enron) and Florida Power & Light.

The delivered gas price was tied to the delivered price of residual fuel oil (FP&L’s plants could burn oil or gas). But the gas supply was not locked in at the wellhead at a netback price to ensure a profitable margin for seller Citrus/Enron. Enron was long oil, short gas—a “big gamble,” one Enron executive stated. “We felt that the survival of the company depended upon continuing to make very large gas sales in Florida,” remembered Enron economist Bruce Stram.

With unanticipated gas/oil differentials, Enron’s position was under water when deliveries began in 1988. With liabilities accruing at several million dollars per month, a $450 million worst-case deficit was calculated over the contract’s life. A renegotiation in 1992 resulted in an Enron payment of $50 million to FP&L, with new contract terms that positioned Enron for future profits.30 This time, an unparalleled risk taker escaped relatively unscathed.

In 1987, the 10-year Brooklyn Union Gas was praised as the “breakout moment” of Enron Gas Marketing (EGM); in 1992, the 20-year Sithe Energy contract was hailed as the “bell-cow transaction” of Enron Gas Services (EGS). But in both cases, Enron had not secured the pledged gas. It wagered that many years down the road it would be able buy and deliver the gas profitably.

The 60 MMcf/d sales agreement with Brooklyn Union Gas had been enabled by FERC Order No. 436, which allowed Enron to demote traditional seller Transco Energy to transportation only. The deal was highly profitable right out of the blocks, with locked-in prices well above the going spot (short-term) price for gas. But Enron did not secure fixed-price, long-term gas in order to lock in a margin for the out months of the 230 Bcf deal. Similar nonhedged bets were made by EGM with Elizabethtown (NJ) Gas Company (10 years) and Northern States Power Company (5 years).

The 195 MMcf/d natural gas contract to fuel a planned 1,000 MW cogeneration plant built by Sithe Energies Group in New York was backed up by 5-year price-hedged gas and 15 years of unhedged supply thereafter. With delivery commencing on the first day of 1995, the unhedged gas was out-of-the-money come the first day of 2000. Worse, Enron had booked profits up front on this gas via mark-to-market accounting, exacerbating the deficit. The problem would balloon to several hundred million dollars, potentially exceeding the value of the plant (Enron’s collateral), before more normal market conditions removed the liability.31

Little wonder, then, how it would end. “The Gambler Who Blew It All,” read one postmortem on Enron in early 2002. “Lay thought he was Horatio Alger, but he may be closer to another archetype: the high roller who believed his own hype.” A beau ideal of capitalist theory, Enron’s founder was not.

Subquality Income

Investors prefer predictable, repeatable profits instead of fortuitous, nonrecurring earnings. Sustainability—the idea that the present should not borrow from the future but enhance it—applies to business, not only to the environment. Ken Lay himself promoted a long-term orientation among Enron employees after the Irwin Jacobs buyout, saying: “This agreement removes a major, disruptive uncertainty about Enron’s future created by short-term oriented speculators.”

But Enron was going to make its promised earnings, year by year, even quarter by quarter, whatever it took. Ken Lay said so, and Rich Kinder enforced the edict, sometimes by browbeating executives acting prudently. In Enron’s parlance, “a sense of urgency” meant we need earnings.

Maximizing, and then some, current-period income had two purposes. One was to reduce debt to help future income, a gain typically offset by the fact that future income was given up in the initial move. The second purpose was to make ENE a momentum stock.

Here-and-now supraprofits were gained by selling assets and/or accelerating future income via accounting discretion. Quick fixes violating net present valuation (NPV) were part of this. Enron also relied on fortuitous income to make its short-term goals. In all, Enron’s sell-down/take-now proclivity turned a (normal) physical-asset company with predictable income streams into an image/momentum play betting on the next big thing. Ken Lay was, indeed, creating a new type of energy company.

In the early-to-mid 1990s, when analysts rated ENE a Buy, two journalists broke from the pack. Mark-to-market accounting accelerated profits in a way that could not be sustained, Toni Mack wrote in a 1993 Forbes piece. Enron’s “live-for-today philosophy” should caution ordinary investors, Harry Hurt III concluded in his 1996 Fortune article. Only years later would such analysis be appreciated as ahead of its time.

Promises versus Premises. In 1995, Enron boasted eight consecutive years of 15 percent growth in earnings per share—on paper. This record was behind Lay’s and Kinder’s Enron 2000, a plan to achieve the same growth pace averaged over five years, doubling the company’s profitability by year-2000 as part of its quest to become the world’s leading energy company.

But on close inspection, the 1988–95 earnings streak was not only about superior performance in Enron’s major divisions, although that was present. It was also about core asset sales and artificial income acceleration to reach its aggressive targets.

Nine of the 12 years under review in this book (1985–1996) were marked by major income acceleration. The exceptions were loss-years 1985 and 1987, as well as profitable 1988 when net income of $109 million was a mere one-fourth of what HNG and InterNorth had made just prior to the merger.

Starting with postmerger 1986, 8 of the 11 years (1986–1996) were marked by special-asset sales, the exceptions being 1987 (a loss year), 1990, and 1991.

In sum, five of the eight years between 1988 and 1995 were marked by both income acceleration and special-asset sales; the other three, by one or the other. No year in this period achieved 15 percent earnings growth without special help.

The lack of earnings quality at Enron can be appreciated by looking at 1989, the second year of the streak. Profit of $226 million, high by Enron standards, was modest for a $9 billion-asset company—and well below HNG and InterNorth’s premerger net income. Yet asset sales accounted for half of earnings, Mobil stock sales for one-third, and an antitrust settlement for 5 percent. Given the debt service that the operating units had to cover to make Enron profitable, incremental earnings also came from a long-term gas-sales contract between Houston Pipe Line (HPL) and Entex, rejiggered to sacrifice greater future income (as measured by net present value) to increase immediate earnings. Yet Enron investors had been told, in the annual report, no less, that “the number one priority in 1989 will be to build the foundation for substantial earnings growth, both for the short- and the long-term.”

The earnings streak was a species of deceit, of philosophic fraud.

The overall earnings story can be retold chronologically. When postmerger problems eviscerated profitability for HNG/InterNorth in 1985, the heat was on. A financially rough 1986 was rescued, in part, by John Wing’s refinancing of a Texas City cogeneration project, which sacrificed millions of future dollars to take (smaller) earnings by year end. That same year, one-half of Florida Gas Transmission was sold to reduce debt after the Belco nationalization, no more than a break-even transaction from HNG’s (full) acquisition a year before.

After the Valhalla write-off in 1987, Enron sold half of Enron Cogeneration Company (ECC) to Dominion Resources for $90 million to help rescue 1988. In 1989, as mentioned, the hastily redone gas deal between HNG and Entex repeated 1986’s violation of NPV to make earnings. This was just a foretaste of the income acceleration to come with Enron’s use of mark-to-market accounting, which began in 1992, was retroactively applied to engineer 1991 earnings, and was abused in later applications.32

In the early 1990s, Enron began taking earnings from Teesside two years before the first power was generated—more than $100 million worth—via work payments to the hastily created Enron Construction Company. Teesside would later provide instant income when Enron sold down its half-interest to 28 percent, generating $83 million between 1994 and 1996.33

Spin-offs in 1992 (Enron Liquids Pipeline) and in 1993 (Northern Border Pipeline) resulted in net income of $225 million and $217 million, respectively. In 1994, the partial sale of Enron Global Power & Pipelines LLC (EPP) brought in $225 million and left ENE with a positive valuation for its remaining 52 percent share. (Before EPP’s third anniversary, however, Enron bought back the outstanding interest to end the have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too foray.) Another public offering, the spin-off of 60 percent of EOTT Energy Partners in 1994, was done at a small profit but with conditions that would create great toil, described in chapter 10.

The biggest cash-out concerned Enron Oil & Gas, yielding the parent $679 million from stock sales in 1989, 1992, and 1995.34 A final sale in 1999 completely divested EOG. What was arguably the best of Enron would end up outside Enron.

Quarterly earnings goals, not only yearly targets, were part of the momentum. (“This is the thirteenth consecutive quarter in which reported earnings …,” a typical press release read.) One quarter was rescued by a sale and leaseback of the Enron Building, which produced immediate gains in return for higher future costs (the lease payments). Complicated tax strategies, in which high-priced advice saved a greater amount of money in the heat of earnings season, was pursued to unusual ends; the Corporate Tax department would come to consider itself a profit center rather than a cost center by the late 1990s.

In all, core asset sales of $1.4 billion—approaching the combined asset sales of Lay-period HNG ($632 million) and HNG-InterNorth ($1 billion)—were part of the legacy of rich purchasing and business problems. All reduced future income, requiring something new to maintain and to increase profits.

Fortuitous income is welcome and inevitable in a large corporation, where the opposite can occur for the unluckiest of reasons. Still, relying on such nonrecurring income to meet guidance to the Street represented another form of image making for Enron.

One cookie jar of income was an antitrust-suit windfall from InterNorth’s 1983 investment of $5 million in an abandoned coal slurry pipeline project that had encountered right-of-way obstruction from coal-carrying railroads. The Energy Transportation System Inc. (ETSI) project won settlements and received a large court award that provided Enron’s 29.5 percent interest with $100 million, which helped Enron regain profitability between 1987 and 1990.

A second cookie jar was Mobil Oil Corporation stock that InterNorth held from the sale of its exploration and production company to Mobil in 1964. Between 1988 and 1992, Enron recorded pretax income of $250 million from such stock sales to help begin its 15 percent earnings-growth streak.35

Marking to Market? Enron Gas Services’ wholesale adoption of mark-to-market accounting for long-term energy contracts was ripe for abuse. It began with a retroactive adjustment in order to juice 1991 earnings as the books closed. By simply tweaking assumptions—what critics called mark-to-model—Jeff Skilling’s group could produce a variety of profits, or even avoid loss, as desired. EGS, later Enron Capital & Trade Resources (ECT), would liberally compute profits as the decade went on—and reap outsized compensation for false profit.

Mark-to-market was abused in a new way when a liquid market was contrived from two long-term MTBE contracts, part of the ill-fated acquisition of MTBE and methanol facilities from Tenneco in 1991. This financial illusion produced present-year profits in 1993–94 but removed future income, exacerbating future losses. A $100 million write-down of these assets in 1997 was just the beginning; the facilities would be scrapped several years later.

Mark-to-market and mark-to-model accounting became even more abused as Enron found itself in more and larger holes. One was the aforementioned artificiality whereby assets were revalued at “fair value” (mark-to-model) to meet promised earnings during 1996.

Jeff Skilling was the executive in charge. But the financial shortcuts were on Rich Kinder’s watch with Ken Lay’s support. In fact, COO Kinder was in the meetings that produced the fair-value deceit. External auditor Arthur Andersen, pliable to its lucrative client, went along with the scheme, another canary-in-the-coal-mine moment in Enron’s history.

Perceptionism. For ENE to remain a Buy (rather than a Hold), Enron had to meet or exceed its (bullish) earnings projections. And Enron knew that its credit ratings had to be maintained to support the huge trading side of the business, particularly under mark-to-market accounting.

Earnings management was crucial to keep the story going. One strategy was to smooth earnings by shifting profits forward if current-period goals were reached. At the close of 1995, a $70 million transfer to 1996 was executed by ECT for just this purpose.

Shifting income, accelerating income, and monetizing assets to make earnings—quarter over quarter, not only year over year—gave new meaning to the term financial engineering. Originally applied to the esoteric field of quantitative modeling (the domain of Enron’s top quant, Vince Kaminski), the term came to mean gaming the accounting rulebook to meet corporate goals, especially to placate investors and/or trigger internal compensation awards. Such gaming also applied to hiding debt off the balance sheet, a practice critically noted by the financial community in the pre-1997 era. Rich Kinder played his part in this too.

“The Enron debacle represents an extreme example of the selective financial misrepresentation mentality,” a review in the Journal of Accounting and Public Policy would find. In contra-capitalist terms, philosophic fraud was enabled by a rules-based (instead of principles-based) accounting system. By establishing a system in which intent could be masked by legalese, regulation and regulators had invited gaming by a business underclass and spawned a generation of investors unwilling to better look out for themselves.

Enron’s hope was that by reporting a desired reality instead of the true one, painful midcourse corrections could be avoided and outside investors placated. It was an instance of Just Because You Can Doesn’t Mean You Should, as Enron executive Mike McConnell titled his memoirs. Such short-run deceit became habitual, with one expediency morphing into another. The philosophic fraud of warring against reality instead of understanding and conforming to it would prove unsustainable. “It happened at many levels, from matters with the Board to our contention that ‘gray’ financial structures were within the rules,” McConnell remembered.

The mentality behind financial engineering is antithetical to best-practice capitalism. Good profit is economic profit approximated by cash flow, not contrived accounting or paper profit. It is also comprehending the market (and political) forces behind earnings. But as ECT executive John Esslinger remembered: “People at Enron didn’t ask how you made your money but only why you didn’t make your money.”

Corporate Masks

Enron’s communication strategy went beyond the standard business practice of presenting key data in reference to general market conditions with a dollop of optimism. That was for vanilla annual reports and minimally staffed public relations departments. Big-picture Ken Lay—tying business strategies to public policy, launching new profit centers, keeping ENE hot, and, later, looking to retail energy as a national brand—had many constituents to impress and different masks to wear.

Enron’s annual reports were businesslike prior to 1988 but bolder and theme-oriented thereafter. Enron’s 1992 offering was unusually spirited, even whimsical, playing on the green theme of natural gas. The next report added an international focus, complete with a hologram in the middle of the cover, as shown in Figure I.2.

Figure I.2 Enron’s annual reports were all business in the early years, such as 1986 and 1987. Themed reports in 1992 and 1993 fashioned Enron as a natural gas company with global reach. Enron’s 1996 report highlighted the new logo with the company’s plan to retail gas and electricity to homes and businesses.

Inconsistencies, however, marked Enron’s self-imaging with regard to so-called green energy and competition, not to mention its supposed allegiance to free-market capitalism. Misdirection and even deceit were present when certain information was highlighted and other equally relevant information was not—and when called-for explanations were absent or falsified. Inconsistent imaging and misdirection characterized the 1985–1996 period; deceit became more prevalent in 1997 forward.

A “Green” Company?

Natural gas was the cleanest burning of the three major fossil fuels.36 The self-described “leading integrated natural gas company in North America” naturally sought a valuation premium from this differentiation in an era of political environmentalism. But tensions would emerge when Enron’s green image clashed with Enron’s bottom-line considerations.

“Isn’t it wonderful natural gas is invisible so the rest of nature never will be?” asked Enron’s national advertising campaign in late 1989. In early 1990, Enron unveiled its new vision, “to become the world’s first natural gas major, the most innovative and reliable provider of clean energy worldwide for a better environment.”37 Two years later, Ken Lay presented his Natural Gas Standard in order to cajole electric utilities and their regulators to choose natural gas in place of coal for new capacity.38

Fair enough: Enron tied itself to a fuel that had been artificially held back by government policy and that had both cost and political-environmental advantages, helped by rapidly improving combined-cycle turbine technology to generate electricity. Lay was smartly playing a political angle to promote an advantageous fuel that had been politically victimized by a lesser one.

Green Enron also warred against oil, not only coal. Fuel oil was a competitor to natural gas in Enron pipeline markets from Florida to California. Periodic fuel switching from gas to oil in dual-fuel plants was either occurring or threatening to do so in the mid-to-late 1980s, and after. As a consequence, Ken Lay even came to favor tariffs on imported petroleum to reduce international competition to (domestic) natural gas.39

Yet oil, not natural gas, was the energy choice most desired in many underdeveloped countries for the power plants Enron wanted to build. Typically, natural gas was not indigenous, and liquefied natural gas (LNG) cost more than oil. Accordingly, Enron Development touted its “market-led approach” of “finding solutions to a country’s energy needs rather than selling a specific fuel [natural gas] or pushing a specific project.”

For example, Batangas (105 MW) and half-owned Subic Bay (116 MW) in the Philippines were oil fired, as was an Enron leased-and-operated 28 MW facility at Subic Bay. The 110 MW Puerto Quetzal, a two-barge power plant in Guatemala, half owned by Enron, was oil fired. (These projects were very profitable for Enron, given a government-lending boost.) Oil was also the fuel of choice for the 696 MW Dabhol, India, power plant (Phase I), although it was to be joined by LNG for Phase II once the contracts were in place.

At home, Enron’s natural gas image also had to square with Enron Liquid Fuels, described in Enron’s 1989 annual report as “a fully integrated crude oil entity in North America.” Enron’s midstream oil assets (what was previously called Enron Oil Transportation & Trading) were assembled and taken public (in March 1994) as EOTT Energy Partners. EOTT’s activities in 17 states and Canada encompassed “purchasing, gathering, transporting, processing, trading, storage and resale of crude oil and refined petroleum products and related activities.” EOG, on the other hand, although it had oil reserves and drilled for oil, was close to a pure natural gas play.

Enron was as anticoal as a company could be, having no coal assets; urging utilities to choose natural gas over coal in power generation; and lobbying for public policies disadvantaging coal emissions and usage. But Enron quietly got into the (profitable) coal business.

In October 2001, in what would prove to be his last conference call with security analysts, Ken Lay revealed a previously undisclosed profit center. Enron, he promised, would transition out of its noncore businesses and stay in trading and pipelines—and in coal.

Coal? Who knew that since 1997, Enron had been building this business, first in trading and then in financing coal companies and taking payment in physical coal (volumetric production payments). Enron’s “integrated approach” was explained by one executive: “While we aren’t interested in purchasing a coal company outright, we can use ECT’s capital in a variety of ways to gain access to production which strengthens our physical position.”

To be sure, Enron had already declared itself the world’s first natural gas major and had moved on to a vision of becoming the world’s leading energy company. But Ken Lay’s enterprise was still pushing global warming and green energies. When confronted on the discrepancy by one of his coal executives, Jeff Skilling put the matter to rest with the words: “Mike, we are a green energy company, but the green stands for money.”

Gone were the jokes at Enron headquarters about coal as “flammable dirt.”

The CEO of many masks—procoal at Florida Gas Company and again at Transco—had been against coal upon his arrival at Houston Natural Gas. He continued to be that fuel’s number-one private-sector foe until Enron got into the business, even acquiring coal reserves. But the physical side of Enron’s coal play was not emphasized; logistics were. “Enron provides a single, comprehensive solution to manage all logistics and risk, whether the coal is sourced domestically or abroad,” the last (2000) annual report stated. “In some cases, we have reduced the customer’s cost of coal by as much as 10 percent.”

Figure I.3 Enron quietly but decisively entered the coal business in 1997, first in trading and then in asset acquisition to enhance trading. The coal unit was a welcome new profit center on the wholesale side of ECT.

Enron’s 35-employee coal unit earned $35 million in 1999, a true profit center with $300 million invested in coal reserves to back ECT’s physical trading. “Our position as a ‘green’ company is getting thin,” stated Enron’s head of European affairs, Mark Schroeder. “We will find it increasingly difficult to even maintain the John Browne imitation, having sold solar (to BP), and sometime next year becoming the largest trader of coal in the world.”

Procompetition?

Enron was not an ivory tower, despite its raft of PhD economists (and near PhDs). Ken Lay was a businessman, not an academic or an ideologue. He was a pragmatist first and a visionary second. In the name of profit maximization, Lay was for many things before he was against them, and vice-versa. The iconic institutions of markets and competition were embraced here but not there, even in contradictory public stances. This was the mixed economy in which Enron operated, and a Ken Lay could reach the top.

Early on, Lay was of two minds about the spot-gas revolution and associated transportation versus the old ways of doing business. “About the time people get all the flexibility and transportation they want,” he said in 1985, “they’ll find they don’t want all of that.” Why? Higher prices and profits were needed for his upstream and midstream operations. This from the ex-president of Transco Energy, who had spearheaded the formation of the US Natural Gas Clearinghouse in 1983, not to mention Transco’s special marketing programs in 1982–83.

Low spot prices weighed heavily on Lay. Selling gas “below cost,” he complained, could compromise the service obligation of pipelines to deliver gas and eventually result in a “severe landing” of price spikes later on.

Was Mr. Natural Gas saying that natural gas was anything but abundant and dependable? To electric utilities, Enron’s answer was no … but maybe yes. In order to get electricity generators to forgo coal for their new plants, Enron said gas was a sure thing. They had to; buyers remembered the mid-1970s when gas deliveries were curtailed. And had not the Enron Outlook quantified the robust North American resource base in light of improving technology?40

On the other hand, long-term contracts had higher margins than heavily traded, transparent month-to-month spot gas. So, Enron hinted, and a bit more, that gas might not be quite so abundant, reliable, and affordable—and electricity generators should execute long-term, price-premium, fixed contracts for some, even much, of their requirements. And by the way, Enron was the preeminent supplier of that long-term gas.

Ken Lay was a bearish bull. In 1985, he complained that “our industry saying big shortages and big price spirals are just around the corner” was not “a very effective way to sell people on making long term commitments to our fuel.” Yet three years later, Lay warned that gas produced at less than replacement cost was setting up “a real shock and very severe dislocations throughout the industry.”

There was a fence to be straddled. The idea was for utilities to build new gas-fired capacity and to commit to higher-margin long-term supply. Enron would assure them of gas availability just forcefully enough to build, yet it would concern them just enough to sign long-term fixed-priced contracts. In fact, during customer meetings, Enron would present McKinsey’s pessimistic view of natural gas supply, follow with the in-house optimistic view, and then pitch the long-term gas option for locking in the (premium) price.

To encourage long-term contracting, Enron also warned state utility regulators about volatile spot prices and possible supply problems.41 This was done not only for electric utilities but also for gas utilities supplying residential and commercial customers—for anyone buying gas at wholesale from Enron.

Make no mistake: Ken Lay knew where Enron’s bread was buttered. He saw, early on, how money could be made as a marketer, not just as a transporter, of natural gas. And that long-term contracts were far more profitable than transacting on the spot market.

Asset collectivism represented a far more fundamental contradiction for the allegedly free-market Ken Lay. Early on, however, he saw that more money could be made if Enron was an independent marketer of natural gas as well as a transporter. Separating sales and transportation would create two profit centers where before there had been only bundled pipeline sales (no margin) and transport. The same principle—separating sales and transportation—could also be applied to the much larger electricity industry.

Separating sales and transportation required Enron to accept FERC’s program of mandatory open access (MOA), whereby interstate natural gas pipelines (and, later, electric utilities) agreed to let all comers use their transportation capability at nondiscriminatory prices and other terms of service. At first, this would apply at the wholesale level (pipelines, transmission wires) but later was also to apply at the retail level.

Using other companies’ assets via “infrastructure socialism” allowed Enron to create a unit devoted solely to marketing natural gas and electricity, a very good thing for an asset-light company trying to grow quickly and have a high credit rating at the same time. MOA was procompetition, exhorted Enron, and competition was good, even when it took place on a regulation-communalized playing field.

To Lay, MOA was a means to an end: making money. He was not concerned about real deregulation: namely, repealing decades-old public-utility protection to remove franchise protection and to remove rate caps. That was not in political play.

Enron championed MOA, first at the federal (interstate wholesale) level, which allowed Enron to form EGS/EGM/ECT as a new innovative profit center. MOA was now advocated by Enron for retail (the distribution level) as Enron’s next big thing, as discussed in both chapter 15 and the Epilogue.

Expediency in place of principles created unusual situations for Ken Lay. One tension emerged when potential state-level MOA threatened the profitability of supply sales from two intrastate pipelines. In Texas, a long-term sales contract to Entex by Houston Pipe Line was at risk. What if the Texas Railroad Commission did what FERC had done: issue an open-access order abrogating the very profitable contract in favor of (lower-margin) spot gas?

“There is a need to coordinate our policies, statements, and positions with one another to avoid diverse positioning at Enron,” an ECT Legal memorandum stated in 1997. The issue also was alive next door concerning gas sales off of Enron’s Louisiana Resources pipeline.

It was all-hands-on-deck to “assist in resolving contrasting interests in order to formulate ECT positions to support the needs of ECT Retail with the least damaging consequences to our intrastate pipelines and wholesale business units.” As it turned out, a crisis was dodged (in-state MOA was avoided), and Enron’s two-faced policy did not become public at a most inopportune time.

In South America, the same tension emerged. Enron preferred a closed, integrated, bundled approach upon building or buying natural gas infrastructure. Producers would sell gas to Enron, which would then transport and burn the gas in its power plants, capturing profits across stages where little outside competition existed. Open-access pipelining, on the contrary, increasing competition and adding price transparency, would lower returns.

“Can you e-mail folks to set up a meeting … to discuss infrastructure integration?” an internal memorandum read. “We really need to resolve the two [positions] to give Ken [Lay] some guidance, and right now I’m pretty lost,” wrote Enron’s director of public policy analysis (the present author).

Other competition-here-but-not-there examples can be cited. By assigning Enron’s travel business to his sister’s travel agency, an allegedly procompetition CEO was anything but. By accusing major oil companies of predatory pricing with wellhead gas sales in the early 1990s, Ken Lay was really complaining about too much competition (led by his own affiliate, EOG), not too little.

Lay and Enron actively lobbied for the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), which on the first day of 1994 prohibited tariffs and other restrictions on oil or natural gas imported from, or exported to, Canada or Mexico. Yet foreign oil was too cheap (competitive) for Lay, who sought a tariff in 1993 to lessen oil’s competition to natural gas.42 Lay also lobbied for a Btu tax to favor natural gas relative to oil and coal—until Clinton’s draft proposal had the unintended consequence of gumming up ECT’s long-term gas deals then in negotiation.

Natural gas was the natural winner over coal and oil in power generation, Enron claimed from at least 1987 on. EPA’s political regulation favored gas because of its emission profile, and 1970s-era regulation favoring coal was repealed, or nearly so. Still, Ken Lay wanted any advantage he could get against his two rival fuels. A tax differential against oil and coal to benefit natural gas was an example of less competition and anticonsumerism for the sake of Enron’s bottom line, given that existing fuel-specific environmental regulation was in place by the early 1990s to equalize the playing field.

Government Opportunity and Dependence

Market competition—or special government favor? Privately controlled assets—or mandatory open access? Oil and coal—or (subjectively defined) green energy? Tensions naturally developed where public policy positions were based on the bottom line rather than on intellectual argument and coherence. The same inconsistency was present in the image of Ken Lay as “the philosopher-king of energy deregulation.”

At Transco in 1983, Lay lobbied Congress to terminate negotiated, inflexible producer contracts, a position opposed in the same hearing by better-situated InterNorth. In 1985, with InterNorth and HNG merged, Lay favored private renegotiation.43 (The combined company, with 14 percent of the national gas market, had only 5 percent of the industry’s take-or-pay liability.) Transco’s Lay had sought a legislative fix to the take-or-pay problem; Enron’s Lay favored self-help in a free market.

The modish idea that Ken Lay and Rebecca Mark’s Enron Development were “spreading the gospel of privatization and free markets to developing countries” was a half-truth, or less. With crucial government loan aid, and working with authoritarian governments as counterparties, Enron was practicing crony capitalism—and not without risk. Despite the hoopla surrounding many project beginnings, there would be modest benefits to offset costs.

Ken Lay was shaky on market reliance when Enron’s profitability was threatened. As outlined in Book 1 (Capitalism at Work), and more fully documented in this volume, Ken Lay was often the “bootlegger” (the business-side participant) in the “bootlegger and Baptist” rent-seeking framework (business interests working with public-interest groups). In fact, Enron was a political company with a first-mover predilection for opportunities created by existing government intervention or opportunities that might come from new regulation, taxation, or subsidization.

A striking example of the calculus of pragmatism, not free-market principles, concerned a rent-seeking play to advance a new energy tax in the context of the global-warming issue. In fact, in 1997, Enron was part of a Clinton-Gore task force recommending just that as public policy.

By the mid-1990s, Enron fiercely advocated MOA for retail electricity, a huge new market for ECT, in the name of lowering prices for consumers. “Cheaper electricity means economic growth and job creation,” Lay intoned in 1992. Two years later, Jeff Skilling pegged California’s savings alone at $8.9 billion, “enough money to pay down current debt, to double and triple the number of police officers and teachers in the state’s largest cities, and still leave about $1 billion for discretionary purposes.”

In a typical Enron speech, Rich Kinder pegged the savings at between 30 percent and 40 percent, or $60 to $80 billion per year, by comparing the average retail rate near $0.07 per kWh to the marginal costs of providing that power at between $0.04 and $0.05 per kWh.44 If Enron could retail to capture part of this differential, it would become with electricity what Exxon was with petroleum: an energy major.

But what if the powerful electric utility lobby, led by the Edison Electric Institute, found out that Enron was trying to increase electricity rates via CO2 rationing, while at the same time urging retail access in order to lower rates? Even if the two policies cancelled each other out, Enron would be a triple winner as power marketer, natural gas major, and renewables giant. And quadruple winner if cap-and-trade created a CO2 emissions market.

Enron’s have-it-both-ways position was quietly deemphasized by Lay in the face of a potential exposé that could have compromised Enron’s consumerist argument for electricity restructuring.45 Enron 2000’s cornerstone, a new $200 billion market for ECT, was too important to get tangled, at least frontally, with global-warming policy.

Political Capitalism

Chapters 7 and 13 focus exclusively on political opportunity and rent-seeking at Enron, supplementing the chapter-by-chapter discussion of government in particular business situations. This macro/micro treatment underscores the unique dependency of Enron on the political process, quite outside a simple private-property free market.

Political Lay and political Enron were virtually inseparable. The politician-CEO was front and center in all things governmental. Business historians will be hard pressed to find another business leader with more Washington opportunity, drive, and results. Part of this was the nature of the energy business, long regulated at the state and federal levels, as summarized in the Epilogue of Book 2 (Edison to Enron). Part of it was Ken Lay’s gravitating to regulated businesses and championing new interventionist policies.46 “Ken Lay plays offense, not defense,” as one company lobbyist remembered.

Virtually all Enron profit centers benefitted from and/or sought major government intervention: mandated access to interstate (wholesale) transmission for gas marketing; special incentives for independent (nonutility) electric generation; mandated access to interstate (wholesale) transmission for power marketing; special tax treatment of resource extraction (tight-sands gas); regulation of criteria pollutants (and, perhaps in the future, carbon dioxide)47; special tax treatment of solar power and wind power production (and, later, state quotas for qualifying renewable output); and loan assistance for foreign projects. These laws and administrative regulations, some originating in the 1930s, were in play in Enron’s era, some with crucial Enron drafting and lobbying.

Still, laws could hurt rather than help Enron. The Public Utility Holding Company Act of 1935 was a burden for a nonutility, such as Enron, that built power plants and traded electricity in various states. Exemptions would be required until this law was formally amended in 1992.

Another thorn in Enron’s side was environmental regulation, which encumbered pipeline operation and delayed pipeline expansions, although Enron (Transwestern and Florida Gas, in particular) innovatively minimized this inefficiency. With rate base treatment of environmental capital costs, Enron (and competing projects) could live with this hassle factor.

Enron’s interstates were more disadvantaged than helped by FERC public-utility regulation of rates and service. A capacity surplus in interstate (wholesale) markets beginning in the early-to-mid 1980s, creating pipe-on-pipe competition, made traditional cost-plus ratemaking unnecessary and counterproductive to the goal of market-responsive pricing. Maximum regulated rates might be above market, requiring a discount lest the rate become zero from lost business.

Such laws could hurt Enron’s competitors to lessen the pain, at least relatively. What Ken Lay sought was government intervention that helped Enron despite its negative effects on competitors, not to mention rate payers or taxpayers. In so doing, Enron became addicted to special government opportunity—whether a favorable regulation, tax advantage, or check written on the US Treasury.

But Enron’s core competency certainly did not begin with Ken Lay. Rent-seeking alarmed Adam Smith in the 18th century, and leading US political economists explained its nefarious presence in the 19th century.48 Natural Gas Week editor John Jennrich described it succinctly during Enron’s day: “This is, after all, not a philosophical discussion,” he noted about various industry positions taken about a regulatory matter. “This is about M-O-N-E-Y.” Such pragmatism was old hat in the US energy business, where the long tradition of business morality and bourgeois virtue, from Adam Smith and Samuel Smiles onward, was often ignored.

Mixed-Economy Competition

Legislation and administrative regulation enabled politically attuned, politically correct Enron to make hundreds of millions of dollars between 1984 and 1996. Regulation of a different kind (accounting, finance) enabled Enron to self-interpret its results in order to appear to be more profitable and sustainable than it really was. But in some cases, Enron found itself engaged in political lobbying that promoted competition and wealth creation.

Figure I.4 Enron’s asset-light and green-energy strategies, as well as virtually all its profit centers, were dependent on special government favor. A politically connected, politically correct Ken Lay was the common denominator of Enron’s public-sector activism.

Ken Lay’s opening move to acquire two interstate pipelines brought federal regulation to HNG’s core. This was about market-side profit-seeking under regulatory constraints, not rent-seeking. Interstate gas transmission was a consumer-driven business that its energy rivals—manufactured (coal) gas and fuel oil—routinely obstructed through the political process. In fact, the entry of Northern Natural Gas Pipeline in 1931 was delayed, and entry of Florida Gas Transmission in 1959 nearly derailed, by interfuel rent-seeking by coal and oil interests.

In a competitive market with FERC leaning toward competition, Enron’s regulatory initiatives were procompetition—liberalizing service so that consumers increasingly had choices between gas providers and between fuels.49 The exception to this was Ken Lay’s push for oil tariffs to protect gas pipeline volumes against foreign oil.

Inherited Intervention Opportunities

The Natural Gas Policy Act (NGPA), part of the five-law National Energy Policy Act of 1978 (NEPA), was foundational to what would be Enron’s core business. Two lawyers described the phaseout of price controls, as well as the act’s other provisions, as “the most complicated and ambiguous statute ever enacted.” Total deregulation (to create a true free market) it was not; nevertheless, deregulatory momentum was secured that would lead to more freedom of action and competition.

Section 311 of the NGPA began the process of unbundling the gas commodity from interstate transportation. Spot-gas carriage programs, approved on a case-by-case basis, were supplanted and universalized by FERC’s generic open-access orders, which created a new industry: interstate natural gas marketing.

NGPA accelerated the process of federal wellhead price liberalization that ended gas shortages—and created an institutional framework for open-ended resource abundance. Supply problems overcome, Ken Lay implemented a natural gas–focused business model that was sustainable and profitable.50

PURPA Opportunity. Another part of NEPA, the Public Utility Regulatory Policies Act of 1978 (PURPA), was a precursor for Enron’s new business of power plants. The law was intended to aid renewable energies when natural gas was considered to be a fading resource to generate electricity. Still, efficient new gas technologies qualified for the law’s preferences.

Lo and behold, natural gas became plentiful, and natural gas combined-cycle technology rapidly improved in the 1980s, generating increasing amounts of electricity per unit of gas. PURPA predated Enron, but Ken Lay, having seen good results with independent power generation at Transco, his former stop, was an early mover at HNG.

PURPA opened a new market for independent gas-fired cogeneration plants by requiring utilities to buy power at a lucrative, regulatory-assigned “avoided cost” as if the utility had built the capacity itself.51 Enron Cogeneration Company—a much-needed new profit center and, in fact, Enron’s highest rate-of-return business—built or acquired six plants between 1985 and 1988 that contributed tens of millions of dollars to the bottom line. Lay wanted this business right off the bat and found his leader in John Wing, formerly at GE.

Multiple Enron divisions benefitted from Wing’s PURPA-enabled deals. The sizeable gap between (low) gas costs and (high) avoided-cost power prices allowed the Texas City project not only to lock in high margins but also to buy 75 MMcf/d from Enron Oil & Gas “at prices substantially above spot market levels.”

Texas City’s avoided cost was based on the estimated cost of a new coal plant outfitted with expensive pollution-control equipment (scrubbers) pursuant to the Clean Air Act of 1990. The difference between Wing’s $300 per kilowatt high-efficiency cogen plant and the regulatory-approved $1,100 per kilowatt of installed coal capacity allowed (regulatory) windfall profits for EOG and transporter HPL.52

This power-sales contract was so high that natural gas could be profitably purchased from EOG at $3.25/MMBtu (with a 6 percent escalation factor) at a time when spot gas was averaging less than $2.00/MMBtu. Credit Enron for fully capitalizing on regulatory opportunity, one of many instances that defined a politically alert company operating in a politically shaped industry.

Under a more reasonable interpretation of avoided cost, the power contract would have been based on the utility’s constructing its own gas-fired cogen plant (what Enron’s John Wing was doing). The gas-purchase price would then have had to be closer to spot. But Texas Utilities as a franchised monopolist was indifferent so long as it could sell the (PURPA) purchased power.

Captive electric ratepayers, in other words, lost what Enron gained in the 1984–89 heyday of PURPA. An energy-crisis law had quite different results in an energy-surplus era, an unintended consequence of government intervention from changed markets.

Export Aid. Enron’s infrastructure projects in the least-developed areas of the world were enabled by long-standing laws that created the Export-Import Bank (Ex-Im) in 1934 and the Overseas Private Investment Corporation (OPIC) in 1971. Rebecca Mark’s mandate was to “plant the flag for Enron in as many developing nations as she could.”

Why go to the poorest, riskiest markets? Because other energy companies were ensconced in the better markets, and Enron wanted the higher profits that came from greater risk. Government financing and/or government risk insurance, combined with Enron’s favorable reputation post-Teesside, were enough to attract other private financing to get projects done.

Ex-Im was reauthorized three times in Enron’s solvent life: 1986, 1992, and 1997. When OPIC’s reauthorization was blocked by a House vote in 1996, Enron’s lobbying went into high gear. “As we move toward projects in Croatia, Mozambique, Bolivia, Poland, and a number of other emerging democracies,” Ken Lay wrote in the Journal of Commerce, “OPIC will again be a key agency enabling Enron to contribute to private investments to these struggling countries.”

Ex-Im and OPIC were joined by other taxpayer involvement with Enron’s overseas ventures. According to one study, “at least 21 agencies, representing the U.S. government, multilateral development banks, and other national governments,” approved $7.2 billion for 38 Enron-related projects in 29 countries.

No other company before or after could point to the breadth of such assistance. The irony was evident. “There were times when Lay’s lobbying seemed at odds with his oft-stated belief in free-market solutions,” noted Bethany McLean and Peter Elkind. “A classic example was Enron’s dependence on such government agencies as [OPIC and Ex-Im].”

Shaped Intervention

Enron shaped, but did not originate, important legislation and administrative regulation between 1984 and 1996. Two major areas were (1) MOA for interstate natural gas transmission and (2) emissions regulation under the Clean Air Act as amended in 1990.

FERC Open Access: Wholesale Gas. FERC’s aforementioned implementation of mandatory open access began with a May 1985 Notice of Proposed Rulemaking that became administrative law later that year.

Regulation of Natural Gas Pipelines after Partial Wellhead Decontrol (FERC Order No. 436) birthed a national interstate gas commodity market. The new regime for pipelines was supported, even championed, by HNG/InterNorth and personally lobbied for by Ken Lay.53 The rules for MOA were finalized in the Pipeline Service Obligations and Revisions to Regulations Governing Self-Implementing Transportation Under Part 284 of the Commission’s Regulations. FERC Order No. 636 of 1992 was Enron-stamped: “Many of the proposals advocated by HNG/InterNorth in our written comments are incorporated into the Final Rule,” an internal Enron memorandum stated.

Enron’s interstates were entirely open access by 1993. No longer did Transwestern, Florida Gas, Northern Natural, or Northern Border buy or sell gas; they only transported gas owned by others (including arm’s-length Enron affiliates). From Enron’s viewpoint, the transition had gone well. “Order No. 636 will have a positive impact on Enron and the natural gas industry as a whole,” read the company’s 1993 Form 10-K. Echoed the annual report: “Full implementation of the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission’s (FERC) Order 636 and the successful settlement of all significant regulatory issues on our interstate pipelines during 1993 should provide a constant and reliable stream of cash flow over the next several years from our largest single earnings contributor” (meaning the now-unbundled pipelines).

MOA to all 28 major interstate pipelines, not only to Enron’s several, allowed Enron Gas Marketing (1986–90), Enron Gas Services (1990–94), and Enron Capital & Trade Resources thereafter to profitably buy and sell natural gas nationwide. “We’re going through a ‘once in a hundred years’ transition in this industry,” Jeff Skilling told employees in 1994. He was speaking about natural gas, but the same “infrastructure socialism” with electricity was ahead, first at wholesale and then, if Enron’s massive lobbying bet succeeded, at retail.

Clean Air Act Emissions Control. What became the Clean Air Act of 1990 (aka the acid-rain bill) was of vital importance to the gas industry, partly because Enron made it so. Ken Lay testified on behalf of both the Interstate Natural Gas Association of America and the American Gas Association (the industry’s midstream and downstream trade groups, respectively) before the Subcommittee on Energy and Power (House Committee on Energy and Commerce) in September 1989.

Emphasizing how natural gas had “virtually no sulfur dioxide emissions and one-third the nitrogen oxide emissions of coal,” Lay argued for a “freedom of choice” approach to allow electric utilities to reduce emissions via SO2 and NOX trading. “Legislation should not mandate the installation of scrubbers by utilities,” Lay implored. Nor should so-called clean-coal technologies be subsidized beyond the feasibility stage for commercialization.

Emission-reduction requirements should be allocated systemwide, regionally, or statewide, not quantified by individual plant. Lay and the gas industry also supported emissions trading and a tax on other fossil fuels (not natural gas) “to help fund the [emission reduction] program.”

Enron stood to benefit in existing and potential ways. Higher gas demand benefitted Enron’s exploration and production, transmission, and marketing businesses. Prospectively, emissions trading in SO2 and NOX could be done by a well-positioned gas company, such as Enron. And methane-intensive oxygenates could be important on the transportation side, a frontier for natural gas. Within several years, in fact, Enron would become a major player in both emissions trading and reformulated gasoline.

The Clean Air Act of 1990 moved the marker for Ken Lay. Before, his lobbying had been about getting back to even with coal, legislatively and administratively. Now, it was about getting ahead. In speeches and in print, Lay cajoled electric utilities to go “beyond Clean Act compliance” with “natural gas co-firing, gas conversion, or new gas-fired capacity [that] would hedge the risk facing ratepayers resulting from potential CO2 emissions limits or taxes in the future.” Carbon dioxide regulation? That was another gas-for-coal and gas-for-oil play that Lay and the Enron-pushed natural gas industry sought.

Championed Intervention

Enron was also instrumental in enacting major legislative provisions. One home run was a clause in the Energy Policy Act of 1992 requiring electric utilities to provide transmission services to outside parties for sale-for-resale transactions. As told in chapter 11, this provision birthed wholesale power marketing, of which Enron became the market leader, and set the stage for retail MOA, the subject of chapter 15.

Another Enron-driven provision was in the Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act of 1990, which provided a tax credit of $0.52/Mcf for natural gas sales from qualifying tight-sands gas wells drilled in 1991–92. The pretax benefit of $0.80/Mcf for Enron Oil & Gas equated to a 50 percent increase in the then price of wellhead gas.

Although already producing such gas, EOG “did a 180-degree shift” to became the nation’s leading tight-sands company. Enron’s 1991 annual report stated the good news: “The supportive role Enron Oil & Gas played in the passage of tight sands legislation … could be worth more than $100 million to Enron on a net present value basis.” The cumulative effect, in fact, would be double this.

Far from coincidental, Enron and EOG “diligently” worked to give an expired credit new life. “We spent a lot of time working that issue and actually got an extension of the Section 29 credits, which had, frankly, expired,” remembered Joe Hillings, head of Enron’s Washington office. “Enron essentially was the biggest winner in that legislation.”

EOG tried and failed to extend the start date for qualifying wells past 1992, but drilled wells had a 10-year credit window, which resulted in a nine-figure tax savings as wells drilled in 1991–92 gave their bounty.

Enron’s Washington office often responded to company emergencies with legislative fixes. One was the aforementioned pushback against funding cuts for OPIC and Ex-Im. That was defense. On offense, one emergency concerned two Enron pipeline expansions that faced a shortage of pipe and construction delays from a tariff on imported steel. So, in 1989, “Enron succeeded in inserting language into the law that created a short-supply relief mechanism.” In this instance, Enron’s benefits were shared by consumers.

Joe Hillings, Cynthia Sandherr, and the rest of Enron’s staff in the nation’s capital were always busy with the day-to-day minutiae of national and international Enron. Setting up visits between Enron developers and foreign dignitaries or trading favors with the US Department of Energy or the US Department of Commerce were the daily fare of a fast-track company in a political world.

Desired Intervention

There was legislation and administrative regulation that eager Enron could not land. One area concerned an oil-import tariff promoted by Ken Lay to reduce oil-to-gas competition. A more ongoing effort was to regulate carbon dioxide by pricing CO2 emissions either by cap-and-trade or by an emissions levy. Ken Lay preferred emissions trading (in which Enron could be a market maker), but he was amenable to a carbon tax.

A third effort, the biggest of the three, was the lobbying effort to get MOA for retail electricity (and natural gas) either from individual states or via federal legislation that would pre-empt the states. That broad, costly effort would be slow, mixed, and ultimately unsuccessful in Enron’s life.

Oil Tariff. Oil was a thorn in the side of the natural gas industry beginning in the mid-to-late 1980s. Fuel switching in dual-fuel power plants was an issue in markets served by Florida Gas Transmission and by Transwestern Pipeline. Cheap gasoline was a barrier to commercializing natural gas vehicles as well.

In the 1980s, Lay flirted with endorsing an oil-import fee, a policy he had championed with Jack Bowen back at Transco. Lay stopped just short of protectionism in the wake of the 1986 oil price collapse. But in mid-1991, after the Gulf War, he endorsed an oil tariff in a speech before the Aspen Institute Energy Policy Forum, a sort of trial balloon.54

Lay went all in with a four-page Enron press release in early 1993: “Enron Corp. Chairman Kenneth Lay Cites Means by Which to Rebuild U.S. Energy Infrastructure, Create New Jobs and U.S. Investment.” In the Petroleum Economist, Lay proposed a $5 per barrel, $75 billion tariff to drive greater domestic oil and gas production, as well as to underwrite crude-oil purchases for the Strategic Petroleum Reserve. Little thought was given to the politics and mechanics of the policy, such as an inability to tax oil from Canada on one side and Mexico on the other, following the passage of NAFTA (which he strongly supported).

CO2 Limits. “I think we need to do something,” Ken Lay told a conference of academics and industry leaders in 1996. “Perhaps the first thing will be some kind of an emissions trading system where we will put some limitation on CO2 emissions…. I do not think we will see a big carbon tax for some time.” In fact, pricing CO2 had been a goal of Enron’s CEO since the global-warming issue emerged in 1988. It became part of the Enron-led “corporate green movement” that split the fossil fuel industry into two parts, if not into three.

Lay led the charge, even when he was outnumbered in the gas industry and perceived as ceding to the Democrats and anti-industrial Left. “Maybe we ought to be very careful about leading the fight to kill the carbon tax,” he diplomatically suggested to Natural Gas Week in 1990. Two years later, Lay endorsed Clinton’s Btu tax so long as it had a “heavier tax on dirtier fuels.”

Pricing CO2 was an intervention that promised profit opportunities in divisions across the company. Four were gas production, transmission, and marketing, as well as gas-fired power plant construction. Enron’s entry into solar (1995) and wind power (1997) were two more. Outsourcing for electric utilities via Enron Environmental Services brought the count to seven.

Emissions trading rounded out the list. Enron entered this last-named market in early 1993 with the acquisition of the air-emission consultancy AER*X, which traded SO2 allowances in Los Angeles pursuant to regional regulation. The founder and president of AER*X, John Palmisano, would join Enron and get busy as Enron’s chief climate lobbyist to pursue CO2 trading.55 Before it was all over, as an ex-Greenpeace official observed, Enron would be “the company most responsible for sparking off the greenhouse civil war in the hydrocarbon business.”

MOA: Retail Electricity. The most coveted government intervention, the linchpin of Enron 2000 (the promise to double the size and profitability of Enron in five years), was state-level retail access for natural gas and electricity. Utilities would not voluntarily grant marketers such as Enron access to their customers, whether it was off the last increment of pipe for gas or of wire for electricity. State regulatory authorities would have to compel MOA.

MOA was achieved for wholesale gas via FERC regulations between 1985 and 1992. The same was achieved with wholesale electricity via the Energy Policy Act of 1992, implemented by FERC in the next years. This left retail, which was a state-by-state battleground, short of a federal law to preempt state authority and get it all done in one step. Enron pursued both with vigor, an effort that began in 1995 and reached its apogee with the California electricity crisis in 2000, a subject of the final book in this tetralogy.

Achievements (in Political Space)

Enron operated in a politicized industry within the US mixed economy. Public-utility regulation governed both natural gas and electricity at the interstate-transmission level and the distribution level. A politicized tax code impacted natural gas exploration and production and particularly qualifying renewable energies. Various laws left over from the 1970s energy crisis offered Enron opportunities and constraints, too.

Enron began and grew amid such regulation. That was simply a given for any company entering into natural gas and electricity. By itself, that framework did not require significant violations of best-business practices or bourgeois morality, although operating successfully within that framework doubtless required some skills and attitudes that were alien to truly free-market entrepreneurship.

Enron’s operation within a mixed economy was not by itself what made Ken Lay’s enterprise contra-capitalistic. In interstate gas transmission, for example, Enron maximized profits under regulatory constraints by becoming more efficient and user friendly. Amid competition, Enron’s pipelines were market based and consumer judged. Government did not enable but constrained this business, and entrepreneurial profits were won by superior performance, not philosophic fraud or political capitalism, much less crony capitalism.

To a lesser extent, the same was true with the natural gas marketing that Enron pioneered in the era of mandatory open-access transmission. The infrastructure socialism that underlay gas marketing was a regulatory inheritance that Enron worked to shape—and lead in marketplace exchanges. In electricity, on the other hand, Enron did not inherit but led, federally at wholesale and state-by-state at retail, as described in chapter 15.

MOA was key to Jeff Skilling’s asset-light strategy, whereby interstate pipelines did not have to be owned to be used. Without MOA and other government intervention in natural gas, marketing would have been done by pipeline owners in a physically integrated industry from the wellhead to retail, not unlike the oil majors’ business-integration model. (Enron itself followed a bundled model on Houston Pipe Line.)

The grand function that Jeff Skilling pioneered, in other words, was a decentralized reinvention of what would have been done in different market form, and one that was aided immeasurably by franchised utilities and their regulators accepting long-term, fixed-priced contracting in place of monthly spot-gas purchases.

MOA has typically been equated to deregulation, since the commodity—methane or electrons—was deregulated for the first time in interstate commerce. But interstate transmission for both remained rate- and service-regulated and, with the advent of MOA, hyperregulated. So less than “a child of deregulation,” as one chronicler concluded, Enron was a child of mandatory open access, not to mention government-created profit centers elsewhere.

The following chronology of Enron’s accomplishments—whether concerning the parent overall or the individual units—must be placed in political context and judged in degrees of contra-capitalism. What was profit-seeking under regulatory constraints that produced win-win outcomes? What was rent-seeking, whereby others lost what Enron gained? What was lobbying for deregulatory advantage under new frameworks, and what was (crony) lobbying for special government favor?

Which activities and results were fairly portrayed to the public, and which were misrepresented by philosophic fraud? When were prudence and humility exercised, and when were best practices abandoned?

What strategies and acts, in other words, were virtuous or the lesser of available evils within the morality of bourgeois capitalism? Which were neither?

Shades of gray will accompany some or most of the following apparent and real successes concerning a half-dozen separate business units between 1984 and 1996. Overall patterns, however, foreshadowed what was to come for Enron. These processes constitute the why-behind-the-why of one of the most consequential episodes in the history of commercial capitalism.

Surging ENE

In its first decade, Enron was relatively successful in a period of industry turmoil, giving the appearance of superior vision and execution by Ken Lay, his top management, and a motivated, talented workforce. A company valued at less than $2 billion in the mid-1980s doubled its market capitalization to $3.5 billion in 1991, doubled it again by 1994, and reached a market value of $11 billion by 1996. A stock valued at $5 per share (split-adjusted) in 1986–88 doubled by 1992 and doubled again by 1996, soundly outperforming the competition and overall market.

To be sure, net income was modest compared to the premerger days of Houston Natural Gas and InterNorth. But ENE was premium priced because of Ken Lay’s narrative about an integrated natural gas play in a new energy era, one propelled by a fourth industry segment, interstate marketing. “The natural gas industry lives, and it looks a lot like Enron,” one Wall Street analyst opined in 1992. “Those companies that live beyond the commodity price alone will do well.”

ENE’s price/earnings (P/E) ratio tells the story of increasing confidence. The company’s aggregate stock value divided by annual income increased from 14 in 1988–1991 to 20 in 1992–96. If earnings were driving valuation, this meant that investors gave every dollar of income more market worth in the mid-1990s than before, much of the optimism being tied to the surge in reported income from gas marketing.

Figure I.5 Enron doubled its original market valuation by the early 1990s (shown in billions of dollars), and doubled it again in the mid-1990s. Increasing earnings, accelerated by mark-to-market accounting, as well as Ken Lay’s stature and messaging, made ENE a momentum stock with a high price/earnings ratio.

Was the premium justified? Analyst John Olson, unlike almost all his colleagues, was wary. Oil-trading companies’ lower ratio reflected its high risk, and gas-side comparables were scant. Peer companies, mostly with pipeline assets, traded at a half to two-thirds of Enron’s P/E ratio. The 20 P/E ratio at which InterNorth valued HNG before the merger proved to be too high also, creating a goodwill account in excess of $1 billion for the new company.

Olson, in fact, had resisted the Enron narrative since 1990, causing Lay to complain to Olson’s superiors at the investment firms that did business with Enron. “Ken Lay tried to get me fired three different times,” the maverick remembered.

Vindicated in the end, Olson described a company obsessed with money and power. He characterized Enron’s “game plan” to “get rich quick” as follows: “buy influence, issue big stock options, play Wall Street, goose the stock.” Analysts, auditors, lawyers, and investment banks were paid well to perch ENE as a momentum stock, Olson noted. Enron’s board of directors, explicitly supporting and otherwise apprised of Lay’s strategy, was culpable, in Olson’s telling. So was president and COO Rich Kinder until his departure.

Enron was buying political influence across the political spectrum, issuing outsized stock options for the smartest executives in the room, strong-arming the Street to share the narrative, and paying top legal and accounting talent to game the rules. The largesse of Ken Lay and Enron would increasingly compromise external constituencies—not to mention the company’s own executives, employees, and board—to bring capitalism (but really contra-capitalism) into disrepute.

Profitable Core

Double-digit earnings growth per share for nine straight years (1988–96), a rarity in energy and practically everywhere else, was done by financial engineering (gaming). Still, Enron had five solidly profitable divisions. They were, in order of importance:

  • The “cash cow” interstate gas pipelines, Enron’s major asset base and the largest overall net cash contributor in the period under review;
  • Enron Oil & Gas, which became Enron’s top performer with annual cash-flow growth averaging 19 percent between 1989 and 1996—and with a debt ratio between 20 and 30 percent;
  • Gas marketing, which became a notable profit center by 1989 and, with discretionary accounting help, became Enron’s largest profit contributor by 1993;56
  • Power generation (cogeneration), which became a major profit maker between 1986 and 1993 with US projects and Teesside UK;
  • Gas liquids, a dependable contributor that offered contracyclical benefits when natural gas prices were low.

International, ensconced in developing countries, was profitable too. But its biggest project, Dabhol, cast a cloud on the whole unit’s performance.

EOG was the truest growth story in Enron’s stable, even accounting for its significant government-related favor. Unlike its parent, EOG was a low-cost, no-frills operator. Hoglund’s rejection of artificial earnings acceleration (“We’re not playing the easy type of game”) ensured stability. Enron would monetize EOG thrice to keep the parent’s earnings story hot before completely selling the company to public investors in 1999.

The interstate pipelines did well, increasing annual earnings by around 5 percent, more when expansion projects came on line. Cost reductions via automation and fully subscribed expansions overcame FERC’s regulated rate of return embedded in maximum rates. In the competitive liquids business, finally, annual earnings growth in the mid–single digits was good—and achieved.

Cogeneration and gas marketing were high-return businesses in a market shaped by PURPA regulation and infrastructure socialism, respectively. But competition was at work in the regulated space, normalizing returns over time. Regulators, too, pulled back their generous interpretation of avoided cost. In John Wing’s case, the lucrative US market dried up by 1990, necessitating the move abroad (to a market newly created by privatization). For Jeff Skilling, profit spreads narrowed by the early-to-mid 1990s, bad news since earnings had already been recorded for the out years of the previously done long-term deals.

Management talent drove the profitable core. Ken Lay’s philosophy to “try to get a game breaker in every key position” paid dividends and might well have been the difference between survival and failure in the dicey early years at Enron. Remuneration and payouts for superior performance, even in excess of that offered by other firms, were his means. Multiyear contracts for John Wing, Forrest Hoglund, and others were quite different from the philosophy back at Lay’s Transco, where Jack Bowen believed that top executives were paid by the day. (Hoglund did receive a five-year contract to leave Exxon and join USX back in 1977.)

Lay’s incentive approach, comparing stock values against a peer group and general market, proved to be imperfect, as short-term results could and would be overemphasized and overrewarded and as the competition rose to Enron’s pay scale. Still, Lay’s divisional heads, a few inherited but mostly new, were superior in Enron’s first decade.

Landing Forrest Hoglund in 1987 to awaken and grow Enron Oil & Gas was pure gold. Hiring Jeff Skilling, first as a consultant and then as an executive, accelerated product development in wholesale gas marketing. Interstate-pipeline head Jim Rogers was a Lay-alike who had fun shaking up FERC just as FERC was shaking up Enron and the whole industry.

John Wing in cogeneration was a value creator in PURPA-regulated space, albeit a very trying one. Only Ken Lay could keep Wing in the stable as long as was possible, a good thing judged by the projects that got done on time and within budget—and very profitably so.

Mike Muckleroy gave Enron good value, beginning with his first job as director of special projects, selling stray assets after the merger of InterNorth and HNG. Muckleroy successfully merged two liquids units into one and became Enron’s savior in the Valhalla crisis. Muckleroy was also a voice of conscience at Enron, questioning mark-to-market accounting as well as International’s overreach into unstable, anticapitalistic countries.

Two risk-mitigation strategies were instrumental in Enron’s superior performance during an industry recession. One allowed the interstate pipelines to remain cash cows; the other helped EOG prosper in a period of low wellhead prices. Both reflected instances of entrepreneurial insight and prudence that gave Enron and Ken Lay a (more-than-deserved) aura of superiority in the industry and to Wall Street.

Lay’s charge to the interstate pipelines to expeditiously settle take-or-pay claims proved sound. Producers needed cash, and Enron, unlike other interstates, did not bank on higher wellhead prices to remove its liability.57 Wall Street liked resolution in place of uncertainty, boosting ENE as Enron’s take-or-pay liabilities fell from $1.2 billion in 1987 to “not material” by 1992.58 This played a role in making the return to Enron’s shareholders double that of its peer group between 1987 and 1992.59

Risk-minimization strategies helped EOG in low-price periods. “We try to hedge the prices of most of our natural gas, our more modest oil production, and the interest rates we pay,” noted Ken Lay in 1995.60 Another corporate synergy was long-term gas sales sourced from EOG, which produced incremental gains of $131 million for Hoglund in 1990–91 alone.

But what about Enron’s naked risk taking elsewhere? Teesside II’s open-ended supply contract, for example, ignored the history of take-or-pay problems in the United States for interstate pipelines, including those of Enron. Rushing to anticapitalistic countries, and especially India, was high risk, even with government loan aid. As it was, Enron’s advertised prudence masked its imprudent strategies elsewhere, part of the false confidence Enron engendered for most of its solvent life.

Other contributions and positives of Enron’s rise to prominence should be mentioned. Financing techniques, such as credit-sensitive notes, inaugurated by Enron in 1989, were recognized as innovative in the business world. Derivatives trading with natural gas and electricity was pioneered by Enron. Securitization vehicles, although abused over time, had sound applications, such as Enron Finance Corporation’s volumetric production payments in the early 1990s.

The Enron experience was certainly positive for the large majority of employees in the period under review. By the late 1980s, Ken Lay was a nationally known corporate leader and a major figure in energy. In hometown Houston, Enron was considered one of the best companies to work for. Enron was new school, while Exxon (soon to be Exxon Mobil) remained the old-school standard of excellence. Employees were well compensated and then some with two-for-one ENE stock splits in 1991 and again in 1993. A boom was happening inside Enron, not only outside it.

Overall, Enron did find a unique niche in the cyclical energy business to outdistance and even separate from its peers. But the first-mover advantage was also becoming contra-capitalist, violating best-business practices, the morality of the market, and the political constraints of the free market itself.

Competitive Pipelining

Enron’s 1986 annual report justifiably stated that the company’s interstates “led the industry in the creation of innovative ways to serve widely different markets.” A year later, the company reported: “Enron supports the move toward deregulation as evidenced by the fact that three of its affiliated interstate pipelines officially opened their systems to nondiscriminatory transportation during the year.”

Deregulation in this sense was not FERC deregulation of rate and terms of service for interstate transmission. It referred to competition within the framework of mandated open access, whereby (unregulated) spot gas sent a price signal from the wellhead all the way to the city gate (the gas utility) or the end user (electric generator). California, served by Enron’s Transwestern, achieved real-time scarcity pricing when a cold spell in early 1987 increased prices overnight by 15 percent. “We didn’t require one regulator from Washington or any other state to allocate anything,” one participant marveled.

Enron’s intrastate system (Houston Pipe Line, later joined by Louisiana Resources Company); interstate systems (Transwestern Pipeline, Florida Gas Transmission, Northern Natural Pipeline); and four joint-venture lines (Northern Border, Trailblazer Pipeline, Texoma Pipeline, Oasis Pipeline) increased their market share in trying times. In 1985, Enron’s 37,000-mile network delivered 13 percent of the US total. Five years later, the 38,000-mile network had an 18 percent national share, where it would remain in the next years.

The interstates for many years led Enron in revenue and earnings, the work of such leaders as James E. (Jim) Rogers (1985–88), Clark C. Smith (1985–88), Oliver (Rick) Richard (1987–91), and Stan Horton (1985–2002). Each devised new means to loosen the regulatory shackles and allow entrepreneurship to generate good profits.61

Enron’s interstates busied FERC with innovative proposals to liberalize their rates and terms of service. Early on, Enron forced FERC to confront the long-standing public service obligation of interstates (including Enron’s) to obtain and deliver supply now that federal policy voided pipeline sales in the open-access era. “Like a velvet hammer, executives of the 37,000-mile pipeline are prepared to break new legal ground in forcing FERC to decide this issue,” Natural Gas Week reported in 1987.

Transwestern, a relatively simple rifle-shot pipeline to California, received a whole new management team when it was acquired in early 1985. It became Enron’s “laboratory” in pushing market and regulatory change. Transwestern, as well as the company’s other jurisdictional pipelines, blended market and regulatory activism by several means:

  • Supporting and refining FERC’s open-access transportation policy, while suggesting how pipeline gas could be competitive with spot gas to avoid wellhead take-or-pay liabilities.62 “We were, consequently, leaders in the natural gas restructuring process,” remembered Stan Horton. “We tried to be first in everything that we did.”
  • Pricing transportation services at market rather than cost-based regulatory maximums. Beginning in 1985, Enron’s rate proposals contained such adjectives as negotiated, flexible, seasonal, incentive, fair-value, and market-based—all intended to better reflect shifting demand and changing cost.63 Between legalized flexibility and market competition, the Natural Gas Act of 1938 was becoming anachronistic. “Despite the fact that interstate pipelines still are regulated and the FERC will set minimum and maximum rates for each of our unbundled services,” Horton remarked in 1993, “we’re finding that competition is determining what we can actually charge.”
  • Entering new markets to increase competition and pushing FERC to expedite certification for much-needed new natural gas capacity. Regarding the former, Enron-led Mojave Pipeline, first proposed in 1985, challenged a long-standing California monopoly divided between the state’s two major gas utilities. Regarding the latter, Transwestern pushed FERC and set “a modern-day record” of 18 months from application to completion (September 1990–February 1992) to end natural gas shortages in the Golden State.64

A highlight of Enron’s FERC-leading initiatives was a pioneering rate-case settlement by Transwestern (effective November 1996) that effectively deregulated the pipeline for a decade. The negotiated agreement with some 25 customers, prompted by an immediate revenue shortfall for Transwestern from a large expiring contract, shared risks and rewards, and left the pipeline with contractual responsibilities instead of regulatory ones, as had been the case. Rates were indexed to inflation, leaving Transwestern with the opportunity to take improved efficiencies to the bottom line for a decade (rather than every three years in the traditional rate case). With this and other entrepreneurial decisions, a nominally FERC-regulated pipeline put itself in position to be “a growth story for Enron.”65

Transwestern’s settlement “shows that tough situations can be handled through the self-regulation of long-term contracts,” offering the upside of “eliminated regulatory costs, increasing business certainty, and increasing entrepreneurial opportunity,” an internal Enron memorandum by this author noted.

Enron’s pipelines developed new information technology and protocols to compete in the new open-access world. As the largest and most flexible operator, Enron found itself acting as a bank whereby its rivals could borrow (short) gas during tight supply periods for repayment later (profit was not allowed for gas buying and selling by regulated interstates). This led Ken Lay to confront other pipeline CEOs at a 1990 board meeting of the pipeline trade group, Interstate Natural Gas Association of America (INGAA). “Ken Lay’s quite forceful language behind closed doors was arguably the beginning of the protocols operational flow orders and operational balance agreements that became the industry norm by 1992,” remembered one participant.66

Enron’s investment in information technology under MOA transformed a balkanized latticework of pipe into a “single networked system.” It began with electronic bulletin boards in 1994 and culminated several years later with the FERC-directed Gas Industry Standards Board (GISB), which codified more than 100 best-practice standards for nominations, allocations, title transfers, and invoicing. All told, Enron led the industry in best practices by which independent marketers (non-ECT, ECT) competed fairly and cleanly.

Enron had a Teesside-worthy success with the acquisition, revitalization, and growth of the southern side of Argentina’s natural gas–transmission system. In 1992, an Enron-led consortium purchased the 1.3 Bcf/d, 3,800-mile Transportadora de Gas del Sur (TGS) for $550 million. Importing its North American expertise, Enron turned an aging, 85-percent-utilized system into a fully utilized modern pipeline and expanded the line by 25 percent the next year. Performance incentives were met to earn extra profit—what FERC could never finalize as incentive ratemaking at home.

Led by such notables as Mike Tucker and George Wasaff, this best-of-Enron venture contributed to what became recognized, at least for its too-brief time, as the third Latin American miracle.67 True, politics was heavily involved with the government as seller and close regulator, and Enron received political-risk insurance from OPIC. But as a case study in the private-sector reform of a hitherto ailing, underachieving government asset, TGS in the 1993–99 era was very successful.

Commoditizing Natural Gas

From the beginning, Enron was the leading gas marketer in the United States. It was in the DNA of both Houston Natural Gas Corporation and InterNorth Inc., the precursors of Enron. Houston Pipe Line was an experienced gas seller in the very competitive, virtually unregulated Texas market; Northern Natural Gas Pipeline’s salesmanship culture was necessitated by its “spaghetti lines” serving small Midwest locals.

Interstate gas marketing became a fourth industry segment (joining the traditional production, transmission, and distribution segments) under the mandatory federal rules of infrastructure socialism. At Enron, it began with the Transportation & Exchange division of Northern Natural, which grew into a nonregulated affiliate, Northern Gas Marketing. NGM became the guts of HNG/InterNorth Gas Marketing, renamed Enron Gas Marketing (EGM) in 1986, headed by a new hire from Transco, John Esslinger.68 EGM became EGS in 1991 and ECT in 1994.

EGM became a notable profit center by 1989, supplementing its short-term sales with high-margin long-term contracts. Gas Bank, described in chapter 5, was the beginning of a portfolio approach offering to gas utilities, electric utilities, municipalities, or independent power generators a variety of products differing in price (variable, fixed, or both); term (multimonth, multiyear, or both); and service (firm, interruptible, or both). What had been chocolate and vanilla (firm or interruptible for the long term) was now 31 flavors.

The second takeoff began in 1990 when Jeff Skilling’s Enron Finance Corporation developed new ways to lock up gas supply to satisfy a waiting long-term sales market.69 The same year inaugurated natural gas futures trading, which gave the gas market a national pricing point from which basis differentials across the country could be tied.

With firm gas supply in hand (no easy task, as described in chapters 8 and 9), EGS ramped up gas marketing to electric generators: first the independents and then the utilities. Business strategist and historian Malcolm Salter recognized a “complete virtuous circle” of buying, selling, and, often, transporting the same gas. Ken Lay’s Natural Gas Standard, stressing the economic and environmental benefits of methane relative to coal and oil, was brought to fruition by Jeff Skilling in what was, arguably, Enron’s greatest contribution to the gas industry—and business generally.

Enlarging the market from physical to financial products, as well as standardizing complex contracts, thus reducing negotiations from months to weeks, was part of the EGM/EGS/ECT contribution. Calls, puts, options, forwards, hedges, swaps, hybrids, and other “exotic options” were pioneered by Enron for gas and adopted by the industry in the early-to-mid 1990s. Small wonder that Enron was tops of several hundred gas-marketing companies in terms of volume and overall reputation from the late 1980s forward.

Enron made natural gas the “fuel of choice” for electrical generation—intellectually, operationally, and in public policy. Enron’s chairman explained time and again (as did virtually all energy economists) that federal price controls on natural gas had resulted in physical shortages and, ironically, artificially high prices in the end. Deregulated prices would coordinate supply and demand, Dr. Lay knew, as well as improve confidence in natural gas for long-lived projects, and none more than for power generation.

Led by economist Bruce Stram, Enron challenged the pessimistic “hard landing” studies of private consultants predicting that then low gas prices would result in declining natural gas production, higher prices, even physical shortages. The first Enron Outlook for Natural Gas (1989) forecast year-2000 demand of 18.5 trillion cubic feet at a time when Groppe, Long & Littell (1987) and McKinsey (1988) predicted a much smaller market. (The actual figure of 19.2 Tcf made Enron a tad low but quite accurate.) Enron’s 1991 Outlook for Natural Gas increased its estimate to 22 Tcf for 2005, which proved exactly on the mark.70

Enron’s bottom-up forecast correctly captured the growth in gas demand for power generation and strong supply from drilling improvements despite prices that were lower than predicted. EOG proved Enron right regarding the latter, and EOG Resources would continue to lead the upstream gas market (and, post-Enron, eventually become the nation’s leading onshore lower-48 oil producer).

Figure I.6 Enron Outlook for Natural Gas, first published in 1989, and updated periodically, portrayed the resource base as prolific and open-ended. More than rebutting supply pessimism from other studies, the Outlook challenged electric utilities to build gas plants in place of new coal capacity.

As detailed in chapter 7, Ken Lay and Enron worked tirelessly to level the playing field for natural gas. This meant repealing the Fuel Use Act of 1978 and the incremental-pricing provision of the Natural Gas Policy Act of 1978, both of which artificially advantaged coal in the all-important electric-generation market. Getting utilities and their regulators to think as if they were subject to market forces (rather than maximizing the regulatory rate base) before building a new coal plant (rather than a gas plant) yielded a more efficient outcome, though still a government-influenced one.

Enron did more than commoditize natural gas to challenge, and beat, coal in head-to-head competition at home. Teesside’s “privatization showcase” sparked England’s “dash for gas” in place of government-protected coal-fired generation. British Gas (later BG), which hitherto called the shots in the region, had geographical competition for the first time—from US-based Enron, no less. In the UK and other European markets, ECT commoditized natural gas in the mid-to-late 1990s within what had been a monopolistic, balkanized market.

Contra-Capitalist Enron

Enron’s divisions, strategies, and results can be evaluated in light of business insights long enumerated by classical-liberal thinkers and entrepreneurs. Antibourgeoise values, philosophic fraud, rent-seeking—these categories have been identified and warned against almost as if classical liberals had Enron and Ken Lay in mind.

Contra-capitalism violates the means and method of the market, which is: Perceive reality as the given. Transform inputs into more valuable outputs. Exchange goods and services for mutual advantage, without force or fraud and with civility. Repeat to build reputational value.

As a normative ideal, capitalist conformance focuses on means before financial results. The simple business verdict—profits are good, losses are bad—is secondary; on occasion and for a time, good business practices can result in losses, and bad practices can generate profits.

The future state of the market is unknown. Entrepreneurship is and will always be imperfect, necessitating trial and error in the search for market viability. Enron certainly suffered from entrepreneurial error—and yet it had many successes along the way. Ken Lay’s enterprise had solid profit centers that inaugurated and institutionalized best practices. But bad practices and bad divisions drove the final outcome—and systemically so, inspiring the theoretical framework underlying this book.

Enron’s contra-capitalism begins and ends with Ken Lay, whose prodigious business drive was chancy, hubristic, and ultimately fatal. Eschewing conventional best practices, Lay sought to outpace competitors via a situational ethics that compromised the prudential virtues. These deviations began before Enron was born by name, and by 1997, as Book 4 will further document, a uniquely contra-capitalist enterprise was present.

Enron’s rebellion was not a form of creative destruction, or innovation within capitalism, as many employees believed. Rather, loosening capitalism’s commercial precepts was a slippery slope to decay. But it was a slope, not a cliff. Enroners did not become imprudent, dishonest, prodigal, or arrogant overnight. Indeed, their downward course was concurrent with many solid achievements, impressing outsiders and blinding the company to the need for midcourse corrections to allow sustainable growth.

Contra-capitalist Enron can be described typologically or chronologically. The typological approach ties together the philosophic and psychological relationships among flagrant anticapitalist behavior (such as lobbying for special government privilege); violations of fundamental market rules (for example, misleading external parties about financial results); and departures from longstanding free-market precepts (for example, acting imprudently by overvaluing the present). This introduction has presented the typological approach.

Figure I.7 Enron’s practice of contra-capitalism involved not only government intervention but also habits of mind that classical-liberal thinkers long criticized and warned against.

The forthcoming chronological narrative demonstrates how Enron’s contra-capitalist practices evolved interactively—with small, reversible deviations turning into large, hardly reversible ones (creating the slippery slope, also called path dependency).

Book 1 in this series documented classical liberals’ analysis of personal and business success—and its opposite. Their wisdom is the framework by which this book judges Enron’s destructive strategies: the imprudence and unreliability that began with Ken Lay’s run-up of company debt on the basis of trumped-up earnings targets; the absence of prudence and even civility by Enron’s smartest guys in the room; the scorn toward traditional, mature businesses within Enron; the abuse of finance and accounting norms; and other such behaviors.

Bourgeois Vice

This category of contra-capitalism is the most internal and personal: violations of the “capitalist spirit” that comprise “the bourgeois virtues.” One interpreter of Adam Smith listed those virtues as “prudence, restraint, industry, frugality, sobriety, honesty, civility, and reliability.”

A century after Smith, Samuel Smiles exalted respect, reverence, honesty, thrift, politeness, courtesy, generosity, forethought, and economy, and, most of all, a focus on the longer term via perseverance. The antibourgeois vices, according to Smiles, included avarice, greed, miserliness, fraud, injustice, thoughtlessness, extravagance, selfishness, and improvidence.

Charles Koch has recently codified the important virtues driving business success. In order to “optimize resources,” it is necessary to “adjust value for risk,” proceed by “experimental discovery” (trial-and-error), “challenge hypotheses,” and “admit mistakes” and “take responsibility.” But Koch goes deeper by also emphasizing how each employee must have “respect” and “empathy” for others; act with “integrity”; have “passion” and “pride” in work—yet maintain “humility” in the face of limitations and ignorance.

Enron stressed values in its corporate culture to go along with its aggressive visions (which circa 1996 was to become the world’s leading energy company). In its final and highest form, “Our Values” were respect, integrity, communication, and excellence (RICE, for short).

Three of the four values—respect, communication, and excellence—were internal, telling employees, in effect, to get along, work well, and get results. But Enron’s other value—integrity—was both internal and external: “We will work with customers and prospects openly, honestly and sincerely.” Then the second part: “When we say we will do something, we will do it; when we say we cannot or will not do something, then we won’t do it.”

But was the “something” being done ethically?

Contra-capitalism was not halted by any of Enron’s values except integrity. Moreover, missing from RICE (as interpreted by Ken Lay and Enron) were the capitalistic virtues of humility, honesty, transparency, and respect for consumer-driven, taxpayer-neutral markets.

Enron’s enunciated values were, at best, a safe harbor, a check-the-box exercise, a mask, rather than a firm check against employee and company misbehavior. Values were not fixed but adopted pragmatically. The ends (avoiding failure, declaring success) justified the means; the means were not held to be inviolate regardless of ends.71

Philosophic Fraud

Even when it does not violate the law, philosophic fraud violates the market’s spirit and frustrates its efficient working. The ability of dispersed knowledge to morph into a rational, undesigned whole is hampered; mutually beneficial exchange thwarted; and reputational trust (a hallmark of commerce) diminished.

Market signaling via prices and profits can be compromised to the point that the guilty firm misleads itself. (Enron’s clever finance and accounting executives certainly fooled the rank-and-file.) Worse, the dishonest company must continue its dishonesty in order to cover up its past. Two disciples of Ayn Rand described the mental process of the dishonest CEO: “He is shifting his primary focus away from the facts relevant to the conduct of his business and toward the deception of others.”

This is the context in which historians of Enron must characterize Rich Kinder’s insistence on making the numbers, Jeff Skilling’s mark-to-model accounting, Rebecca Mark’s snowball, and Andy Fastow’s special-purpose vehicles. In Enron’s next and final phase, such philosophic fraud would spread and grow, leading to corporate collapse.

“Contracts, or promises obtained by fraud, violence, or under fear, entitle the injured party to full restitution,” wrote natural-rights philosopher Hugo Grotius in 1631. “For perfect freedom from fraud or compulsion in all our dealings is a right which we derive from natural law and liberty.” In short, Enron’s illegalities cannot be pinned to free enterprise or its rules, traditions, or ethics.

As detailed in Book 1, opportunistic deceit has long been denounced by classical liberals, from Adam Smith to Samuel Smiles to Ayn Rand to Charles Koch. In Enron’s case, a variety of contra-capitalism, philosophic fraud, was employed to reach Ken Lay’s heady goals.72 Most infamously, Enron gamed the US accounting code in order to portray the company as more profitable than it really was.73

When seeking permission to use mark-to-market accounting (not an inherently fallacious method), Enron assured the Securities & Exchange Commission that its calculations of revenue and profits would be based on “known spreads and balanced positions” rather than be “significantly dependent on subjective elements.” In fact, as explained in chapter 8, upon receiving SEC permission in January 1992, Enron Gas Services retroactively applied the methodology to 1991 earnings, telling the SEC that the action was “not material.”

Yet the switchover gained $25 million, or 10 percent of the unit’s total earnings, allowing Lay, along with COO Rich Kinder, to gush about the unit’s “exceptional” performance in the 1991 annual report. For Enron as a whole, that increment helped turn single-digit earnings growth into a 20 percent growth story, boosting ENE’s year-end price.

Books and articles have portrayed Enron’s financial practices as fraudulent and illegal. (Enron also pioneered financial practices that notably benefitted energy producers and energy consumers in the early 1990s.) But less than criminal were Enron’s “exquisitely fine judgement calls” exploiting “the shadowy space of legal ambiguity,” as Harvard Business School’s Malcolm Salter noted.

“Many of Enron’s complex transactions, questionable accounting choices, vague disclosures, and corporate reorganizations” occurred in “the penumbra between the clear light of wrongdoing and the clear light of rightdoing,” Salter found. “While an alarming portion of Enron’s financial maneuvers had an aroma of deception, lacked respect for the spirit of the law, and thus reflected ethical delinquency, much of this behavior was not clearly unlawful.”

Enron’s problem was not complex financial deals per se—or the government’s tight regulatory controls (which in fact lulled watchdogs into complacency). It was that Enron’s “culture of gamesmanship” (aka philosophic fraud), violated classical-liberal entrepreneurship. Enron was contra-capitalistic, not only ethically challenged.

Political Capitalism (Rent-Seeking)

A sociopolitical category of political capitalism joins the moral (bourgeois vice) and the epistemological (philosophic fraud). As developed by the late socialist historian Gabriel Kolko, political capitalism refers to the acquisition of political means to achieve economic success. Although Kolko believed it was an inevitable aspect of capitalism, its practice has been denounced by capitalist thinkers as unfair and (socially) uneconomic, from at least the time of Adam Smith.

This book refers to businesses’ pursuit of special government advantage as rent-seeking. Sociologically, the prevalent practice of firm or trade association rent-seeking is called political capitalism.74 When the advantages are granted to a donor or a friend, political capitalism becomes crony capitalism.

Typologically, the most flagrant forms of contra-capitalism—rent-seeking achieved by political capitalism, even crony capitalism—have been denounced over the centuries by classical liberals. “I expect all the bad consequences from the chambers of Commerce and manufacturers establishing in different parts of this country, which your Grace seems to foresee,” Adam Smith wrote in 1785. “The regulations of Commerce are commonly dictated by those who are most interested to deceive and impose upon the Public.”

Some 150 years later, Ayn Rand wrote: “I glorify the real kind of productive, free-enterprise businessman in a way he has never been glorified before,” but “make mincemeat out of the kind of businessman who calls himself a ‘middle-of-the-roader’ and talks about a ‘mixed economy’—the kind that runs to government for assistance, subsidies, legislation and regulation.”

In our day, classical-liberal entrepreneur Charles Koch has denounced “corporate welfare” as bad business. “The role of business is to respect and satisfy what customers value (even if it’s other forms of merchandizing) rather than lobbying the government to mandate what can or cannot be offered,” he explains. “Such activities are the ultimate form of disrespect for customers.”

Enter Enron, whose profit centers time and again benefitted from special government favor, some inherited and much expressly sought in state capitals and in Washington, DC. More than just a strategy, rent-seeking became a core competency at this corporation—and, in the frantic end, a life-preserver out of reach.

Mandatory open access for energy trading; loan assistance for international projects; tax credits for domestic tight-sands production; solar and wind production tax preferences. No less than seven Enron profit centers were tied to Ken Lay’s cause célèbre: (government) priced carbon dioxide emissions. Little wonder that Enron had an unmatched donor profile at the local, state, and federal levels—crony capitalism in action.

True, political interference with markets has long marked the American economy. True, identifiable business interests have self-interestedly shaped much of that intervention. But in size and scope, Enron benefitted from government subsidies and regulations as no other leading US company ever had.

Lessons for History

Enron is no more. But its legacy continues, its lessons live. Business strategy and public policy stand to learn the true lessons of Enron as opposed to the misleading ones emanating from superficial analyses and flawed worldviews.

Profit growth of 5 percent, adjusted for inflation, was quite commendable for most energy companies in Enron’s era. But this was not enough for Ken Lay, whose 15 percent annual earnings figure went from an aspiration to an expectation to a promise and requirement. To realize that vision, Enron went contra-capitalist, violating the ethical, economic, and political canons of a free society.

How ironic, then, that Enron’s fall inspired an outpouring of accusations and complaints against free markets, deregulation, privatization, and profit-seeking. The Marxists went further, charging international Enron with corporate imperialism.

Various strands of the capitalist tradition—from Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” of self-interest to Milton Friedman’s Chicago School of free-market economics to Ayn Rand’s Objectivist philosophy of rational self-interest—were linked to Enron’s ethical culture and business behavior. In mainstream (Progressive) analysis, Enron became the apotheosis of liberalization and libertarianism gone wrong. “The story about Enron reminds us of a serious fact of economic life—that markets fail,” concluded one economics textbook.

Such analyses must be fundamentally reinterpreted—and revised—on several grounds.

First, the mainstream view overlooks the fact that myriad classical-liberal intellectuals denounced the business practices and ethical culture that came to define Ken Lay’s company, from Adam Smith’s self-deceit to Ayn Rand’s warning for the guilty executive: “He is free to evade reality, he is free to unfocus his mind and stumble blindly down any road he pleases, but not free to avoid the abyss he refuses to see.”

Second, it was the market and its collateral institutions—represented by a few short-sellers, financial analysts, and business journalists—that uncovered and publicized Enron’s bad practices, well before federal regulators did. A general loss of investor confidence then overwhelmed Enron’s pitiful attempts to stem its death spiral, just as market theory predicts.

“Enron Proves Capitalism Works,” wrote Joe Bast, the leader of a free-market think tank, following the company’s demise. And in a sense, he was right: Enron’s fall proved that capitalism tends to weed out failures, as judged by consumers and investors. But Enron’s rise and flourishing illustrated something different: Contra-capitalism can fool in the short run but does not work longer term in (mostly) free economies.

Third, Enron was born, lived, and thrived in the mixed economy where political entrepreneurship or so-called rent-seeking was normal practice. The large majority of Enron’s activities were regulated, and most of Enron’s profit centers were closely tied to special government preference.75 Enron also manipulated the mixed economy’s regulatory structures, from tax codes to accounting rules to energy trading. Some of these opportunities were sponsored and even created by Enron. But many were opportunities created by so-called public-interest interventions.76

Gaming complex rules was fair play in the Progressivist economy—and nobody took it to the extremes that Enron did. When Houston Natural Gas merged with InterNorth to become Enron, for example, the tax department was halved to 40 to eliminate redundancy. By 1996, the staff was past the premerger number, and by 2000 the count would be 253. More than a cost center, corporate tax was a profit center, where resources were dedicated to numbingly intricate deals. Although it was legal and maximized profit, this opportunity and practice were far outside a free market’s simple tax regimen.

Enron-as-capitalism is the most enduring misconception of post-Enron thought. That verdict deserves a thorough reexamination, as this new draft of history documents.

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