Paul Kedrosky loves playing around with word clouds, and generated this one from the new Bloomberg Businessweek profile of Larry Fink. It’s cute, as Paul notes, that Goldman and government seem to intersect. But it’s also interesting to see how prominent Goldman Sachs is — it’s the only bank in the cloud.
That made me want to read the profile, because the tense relationship between Fink and Goldman is something I’d love to see much more written about. But weirdly, the authors seem to go out of their way not to delve. They compare the business lines of the two companies, but take Fink at face value when he downplays any rivalry:
Fink brushes off the Goldman Sachs comparison—“They’re in such a different business,” he says. “I don’t want to be in that business.”…
“Goldman Sachs is a great partner of BlackRock’s, and yet we compete bitterly against each other, too, in the asset management side. We use them as a counterparty, and we do a lot of trades with them.” But, he says, “we are very different. This is who we want to be.”
Weirdly, this passage comes right after Fink goes out of his way to compare himself favorably with former Goldman executive John Thain, who beat him out to become CEO of Merrill Lynch:
When BlackRock rearranged its offices earlier this year, expanding onto several additional floors on East 52nd Street, Fink decided not to radically redecorate his new space. “Same furniture, exactly the same maker,” he says, gesturing around the room and chuckling. No $2 million renovation? “No. I don’t believe in that.”
If you only read one profile of Fink, the best one remains last April’s piece by Suzanna Andrews in Vanity Fair, which includes all the information in the more recent profile, plus much more about Fink the man:
Fink is also one of the best gossips on Wall Street. In an industry where information is power, he is regarded as the king, someone who gives to get. “Larry’s a real yenta,” says one bank executive who has known him since the early 80s. “There’s a lot of hinting at how much he knows. It’ll be ‘Oh, Bear Stearns, that portfolio is ’ and then he won’t say it—he’ll just hold his nose.” Or “As I told Washington,” a phrase he is known to insert into conversation. “Larry has always wanted to be important,” says this bank executive. “And now that he’s more important than he ever dreamed of, he’s loving it.”
During six hours of interviews with Fink in December and January, all of these qualities were on display. Seated at the long cherrywood table in his conference room on the seventh floor of BlackRock’s headquarters, on East 52nd Street, he spoke about his firm, Wall Street, Washington, and himself. At times coolly analytical, and surprisingly reflective, he was at other moments defensive, emotional, and startlingly blunt. He gesticulates when he speaks, in a voice that sometimes verges on shouting but can suddenly drop to a whisper as though he were talking to a child or a lover. Both trenchant and gossipy in his insights—with a mind that moves at 90 m.p.h.—it is obvious what draws people to him. He’s open and unguarded, but only up to a point. There is another side of Fink—cautious and veiled—that monitors every word that comes out of his mouth.
Andrews was willing to probe Fink’s relationship with Thain: