measi's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why We Need Klingon Analysts I found this on CNN's money page today. Based upon what's happening here at work, I think this taking lumps is quite applicable. My response to the article... DAMN SKIPPY! Why we need Klingon analysts A strong sense of honor sure would help Wall Street. April 11, 2002: 11:14 AM EDT --Allen Wastler, managing editor of CNN/Money Sometimes I wish we were Klingon. Then we wouldn't have cussing canoeists and lying analysts. For those of you who aren't Star Trek fans, the Klingons are a testy warrior race that values honor above all else. (They also have cool weapons and clothes, but that's besides the point here). This samurai-like dedication leads to a lot of self-condemnation and self-discipline. The human race could use a good dose of that. Take the Cussing Canoeist up in Michigan. Recap: A guy flipped his canoe in a river. He cussed (reportedly using the "F" word more than 75 times). Two small children on a boat nearby witnessed the tirade. A passing sheriff's deputy gave the guy a $75 ticket. In Michigan, you see, there is a 105-year-old law against cursing in front of women and children. The guy fought the ticket, lost in the district court, won on appeal. I'm sure Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson et al. didn't have the "F" word in mind when they wrote the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. Nevertheless, the Michigan law inhibits free speech. But that doesn't mean that the law is wrong or that it's necessary to fight the ticket. We're not talking about political or artistic views here. The guy cussed in front of kids -- which shows 105 years has done nothing for human behavior. And quite frankly, our legal system sometimes gets carried away with high ideals when it should be concerned with pragmatism. Society should have ways of enforcing standards of behavior. If the guy had been a Klingon, there would be a standard of behavior. Sure, he would have cursed (ghuy'cha'). But, having realized he broke a law, he would have accepted punishment. Arguing against it, you see, would have brought dishonor upon him and his family. (i.e. You take your lumps and move on). Stock analysts, of course, could never be Klingon. At least not the ones Eliot Spitzer is looking at. The New York Attorney General, no doubt looking to get some headline attention for his political career down the road, has found some at Merrill Lynch that were apparently telling the public one thing (The stock's a buy!) while telling their in-house compadres something else (The stock's a piece of junk!). And Spitzer says he's finding more examples at other institutions. Of course, Spitzer isn't telling us much that we didn't already know. Analysts and investment bankers work for the same outfits in many cases. Analysts fan investor expectations, bankers finance the deals and offerings that feed off those expectations. A Chinese Wall between them? Yeah. Sure. Despite this blaring conflict, analysts still get a lot of attention. And people follow their recommendations. � Now the public has to cop to some responsibility for this analyst influence. Time and again people are warned to consider the source of any information or advice they get about stocks. And yet analyst picks continue to get credence. Perhaps it is because some steadfastly stand by their recommendations, actually do a good job even, and others hide behind their halo. Even though people should be more careful, it's going to be fun to watch Spitzer spank some of the worst analyst-hype offenders. And if he succeeds in making those analysts eat their words, he should move on to the canoeist. The easier answer would be if analysts had a sense of honor in the first place. Make them Klingon. Then they would be compelled to stand by their words, even fight to the death to defend them. Now that would really put some meaning into stock recommendations. But of course, that's science fiction. Qapla' Speaking of honor, I'm honor bound to admit a mistake. Last week I implied that Vanilla Coke had no historical precedent. Scads of readers -- typically people over 50 -- wrote in saying it was one of their favorite concoctions at the local soda shop in days gone by. I stand corrected. And I have to admit their descriptions of a silky smooth shot of soft syrupy vanilla at the bottom of the icy cold fizz of a tall glass of Coke sounds...intriguing. I still bet it'll taste yucky in a can. � 3:25 p.m. - 11 April 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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