|
Chapter
1: Page Three
Pretty
soon you could hear the howling from full-commission brokers as their
customers defected to the discount brokers. Many years later, when
Schwab lowered trades to $29.95, Fortune Magazine reporter Katrina
Booker overheard a Merrill Lynch broker’s side of a telephone conversation
with a customer. These are the Merrill Lynch broker’s exact words,
as reported by Booker. For fun, I took a guess at what the other side
of the conversation must have been like. The exchange might have gone
something like this:
Merrill Lynch
Broker: “I can’t believe this. Suddenly you’ve got $29.95 trades,
and you’re empowered.”
Merrill Lynch
Customer: Look, I know what I want to buy. I don’t need to pay for
research. Why should I pay more than I have to?”
Broker: Okay,
fine. You want to trade on the Internet? Fine. Go right ahead.
You have to do what’s right for you. Just don’t expect much service
from me.”
Customer:
We go way back. Why are you taking that tone?
Broker: Why?
Because I get goose eggs! I don’t get paid, okay? So don’t expect
me to give you any more ideas.
Customer:
When was the last time you gave me an idea? I know what I want.
Broker: I
have given you ideas. Okay. Maybe I haven’t been as good about that
as I could have. Starting today, that is going to change.
Customer:
Listen, you guys have got to wake up. Why should I pay you $250 when
I can get the same trade for $29.95? It’s a new game out there.
Get with the program, or I’m history.
Broker: Look,
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. Hey, you want to go to
the Mets game tomorrow. I’ve got tickets.
Here we get a
glimpse of the old-boy networking and schmoozing that cemented the
high commissions in place for so many years. Booze, ball games, yacht
outings, and dinners lubricated the relationship between brokers and
their customers. Entertainment, more than investment research, often
proved to be the traditional stockbroker’s fiercest weapon. A pair
of seats on the 50-yard line combined with an occasional stock tip
could beat cheap trades any day. Brokers soon learned that customers
really wanted cheap trades.
The fat commissions
had fed an excessive lifestyle that was frequently lampooned by jokes
and New Yorker cartoons. Chuck begins his first book, How
to Be Your Own Stockbroker, by telling a broker yacht story.
I’m reminded
of an eager-beaver stock salesman I knew in Florida who took a prospect
to the harbor at Palm Beach. As they surveyed the various luxury
craft floating before them, the salesman pointed out all the yachts
owned by successful brokers.
“But where
are the customers’ yachts?” the prospect innocently whispered.
Furious at losing
customers, the brokers fought for their cartel. To protect its sweet
monopoly, the brokerage industry built high walls protecting it against
any public interest reformists. Trade groups like the Securities Industry
Association opened offices in the nation’s capital to monitor legislation
and make sure no one in authority considered the ill-considered arrangements
made in the desperate days of the Depression. Campaign contributions
flowed to Washington, primarily to Republican candidates, who paid
lip service to the music of deregulation and unfettered competition
but didn’t want to rock the yachts of the traders on which they were
frequently entertained.
Reformers in the
Kennedy administration started pressing the Justice Department and
the SEC to challenge the issue of brokerage trading rate deregulation.
The industry’s lobbyists made lunch meant out of these efforts. The
Street partied hard with the election of Richard M. Nixon in 1968.
They thought their sinecure was secure with the White House in industry-friendly
Republican hands. And it would have been except for two entirely predictable
vices of those who have more than they deserve: greed and paranoia.
TOP
OF PAGE
Preface
| Table of Contents | Chapter
1 | Epilog
Praise | FAQ
| Timeline | Order
Now | Site Index
|