I met Carly Fiorina for the first time on the evening of Wednesday, Oct. 24, 2001, precisely at 8:45 p.m., according to the data on the digital photos still residing on my PC.
This, of course, was the night before the worldwide launch of Windows 2001 in New York, just six weeks after 9/11. The acrid, pungent burning smell was still thick in the air of lower Manhattan. The Thursday launch event at the Hudson Theater, with an appearance by Mayor Rudy Giuliani --- who received a standing ovation --- and hosted by Regis Philbin --- who did not, is another fascinating story for another time.
The pre-launch evening invitation-only event was a Microsoft- and Hewlett-Packard-hosted reception at the Museum of Natural History. In a superb effort to help the young schoolchildren of the city cope with their devastating loss, Hewlett-Packard a week earlier handed out hundreds of digital cameras, encouraging and empowering the city's children to document their lives and city as they saw fit. Many of the youngsters were at the reception and their photos, printed by HP staffers, were on display. Imagine the pride of a six year-old whose work is suddenly on display in the Museum of Natural History! HP never sought publicity for this outstanding humanitarian gesture and, in my opinion, never received the accolades it deserved. (Indeed, there isn't even a press release about this in HP's online archives.)
The photos I took of Fiorina that night show her talking not to reporters or executives or customers, but to dozens of young school children. A few, standing with pen and paper scrap in hand, sought her autograph, knowing that she was somebody, but certainly not aware of just how powerful a woman she was. Carly's actions that night were of complete and total sincerity; in one of my pictures, where she is listening to a young boy who barely came up to her waistline, she appears on the brink of tears. I was impressed.
Less impressive is the recent news that, in the wake of her dismissal by HP's board, Carly will receive a cash payout of more than $21 million. And to help her cope with the heartbreak of unemployment, she'll also get $50,000 for outplacement services and financial counseling. She also gets to keep her HP-issued PC. And get this: $7.38 million of the cash payment is from HP's long-term performance incentive program, according a filing with the SEC. You can make up your own joke here.
Executive employment contracts are one thing, but you've got to admit these severance terms are well, wouldn't you like to have them? It's Carly's blade servers you've been pounding the pavement to sell, isn't it? And Carly's laser printers? And Carly's OpenView? And Carly's JetAdmin? And Carly's HP-UX. You might as well be hosting Tupperware parties.
You've got to admit that as you struggle to keep your business afloat and prevent customers from jumping ship to the integrator down the street because they're a few dollars cheaper, you get a little steamed under the collar when you read about these jewel-encrusted golden parachutes. Take back Fioina's lovely parting gifts and perhaps you could have sold those servers for, say $20 less. Sell a few hundred and the old Andrew Jacksons start to add up.
I once had a boss who said every year at review time, 'your reward for doing a good job is keeping it." And, you know, I really believed that. In Fiorina's case, it appears doing a mediocre job was far more rewarding.
