The CEO Paradox [antikvár]

Preface In recent years, the chief executive has become a central character on the American stage, a cultural icon in our society, an object for serious scrutiny and trivial gossip. In short, a celebrity. Books about, and by, CEOs have found their way to the bestseller lists. Celebrated for their achievements or vilified for their failures, those who hold the top positions of corporate command have become objects of public fascination, much like the explorers and inventors of earlier centuries. And this phenomenon is not limited to the United States. In Japan, such corporate chieftains as Akio Morita and the late Soichiro Honda command a level of respect once reserved for great samurai warriors. In visiting Prague less than a year after the "Velvet Revolution," I noted the autobiography of Thomas Bata, the Czech-born Canadian shoe manufacturer, centrally displayed in windows of virtually every bookstore. And in the former Soviet Union, thanks to glasnost, Lee Iacocca's writings are in as great a demand as George Orwell's. At home, however, not all of these corporate celebrities are objects of admiration. Some are envied for their opulent life-styles and the prodigious rewards that make these possible. Indeed, the early 1990s have brought a tidal wave of anger at what many people regard as utter excess. This preoccupation with chief executives extends beyond idle curiosity about the lives of the rich and famous to the question of what CEOs do and how they do it. There are other questions too: Are CEOs special people, unusual men and women destined from birth to be leaders? Or do they reach the top through some combination of talent and lucky circumstances? Do they owe their selection to some arbitrary god possessed of more humor than justice? And if some CEOs have "lucked out" over people more xiii