Product Description

Lately the headlines have delivered dispiriting news about wrongdoing and scandal in business. But behind the headlines lies a surprising, untold story: Corporate America is changing for the better. Faith and Fortune tells the stories of the extraordinary people who are leading the way and the admirable companies they have built.

This book is called Faith and Fortune because faith provides the fuel that energizes these people as they strive to do business better and to find meaning in their work. Some have faith in God; others do not. But all have faith in the goodness of people and in the possibility of change. Most of all, they believe that corporations can become a powerful force for good in the world, and that they can—and should—serve people and not the other way around.

Faith and Fortune argues that an exciting new model of conducting business is taking hold, not only in small, socially responsible companies like Ben & Jerry’s but inside such bulwarks of the Fortune 500 as Ford, Citigroup, and DuPont. Bit by bit, almost imperceptibly, this new model is replacing a century-old approach that was rooted in the industrial era and looked at business as a series of discrete, win-lose transactions: Executives tried to pay their workers and suppliers as little as possible, charge their customers as much as they could, and maximize their short-term profits. Today, by contrast, forward-thinking executives build their businesses by developing a network of long-lasting, win-win relationships. Great companies serve their workers, customers, shareholders, and the common good.

Powerful forces are driving these changes, including the desire of companies to attract and engage their workforce, the emergence of the 1960s’ generation to positions of corporate power, the spirituality-in-the-workplace movement, the rise of social investing, and the growth and sophistication of activist groups.

At once realistic and inspiring, Faith and Fortune profiles companies and people who represent the best of business and exemplify these new values. Among the stories told here:

• UPS creates opportunities for immigrants and minorities, promotes from within, and provides its people with a much-valued sense of community

• Southwest Airlines, the fun-loving airline, has built the concept of servant leadership into its storied culture

• Starbucks provides stock options and health insurance even to part-time workers and builds sustainable business models for coffee growers in the developing world

• Timberland has turned community services into a valuable corporate asset

Other companies profiled here include Hewlett-Packard, Herman Miller, Staples, PepsiCo, Domini Social Investments, Tom’s of Maine, and Greyston Bakery. The book also includes a chapter exploring what the great religious traditions have to teach today’s businesspeople about creating sustainable enterprises and an analysis of the business case for corporate social responsibility.

Faith and Fortune is a thoughtful, original, and important book that will reshape the debate about the role of business in America.

“I arrived at this book as an avowed, vocal skeptic of the ‘spirituality-in-business movement.’ I departed as a...convert. Even cynics should devour this marvelous book. Marc Gunther makes a compelling case that the right things matter—and pay off; yet he exudes not a dollop of naiveté.”—Tom Peters, author of Re-imagine! and Thriving on Chaos

“In his provocative inquiry into the nature of modern American business, Marc Gunther looks into the darkness of corporate greed and scandal and, in the shadows cast by the likes of Enron and WorldCom, sees a beacon of hope in companies in which profits and values coexist.”—David Wessel, Deputy Washington Bureau Chief & Capital columnist, Wall Street Journal

“Marc Gunther’s Faith and Fortune is a book of hope. It offers the opportunity to open your mind and your heart in your pursuit of a meaningful life. Its well-drawn examples will deepen your ability to see how leaders can use business as a force that creates true personal wealth and public prosperity.”—Dr. Mark S. Albion, author of Making a Life, Making a Living

“With the keen eye of a seasoned business writer and the gentle confidence of a trusted storyteller, Marc Gunther masterfully provides an insider’s view into the faith-at-work movement—the quiet revolution that is transforming corporate America. After reading Faith and Fortune, you can’t help but wonder, now why can’t I do that in my organization?” —Dr. David W. Miller, executive director of the Yale Center for Faith & Culture, and the former president of the Avodah Institute

“Faith and Fortune offers hope that there is a better way than business as usual. Marc Gunther clearly illustrates that by linking corporate values to personal values; the business leaders profiled in this book have created a new model for addressing the world's problems in these complicated times. This thought-provoking book should be a ‘must read.’”—Timothy E. Wirth, president, United Nations Foundation


From the Hardcover edition.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #981656 in Books
• Published on: 2005-11-22
• Released on: 2005-11-22
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 304 pages

About the Author
Marc Gunther is a senior writer at Fortune magazine who has written extensively about corporate social responsibility and faith at work. He lives in Bethesda, Maryland, with his wife, Karen Schneider, and their daughters, Sarah and Rebecca.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1

A Quiet Revolution

In 1924, the president of the J. C. Penney Co. wrote to the manager of a company store in Eureka, Oregon, to praise him and his team for a job well done. "You did the most business that has ever been done in Eureka, and made the most money that has ever been made. I congratulate each and every one of you," said the executive. Then he delivered a gentle rebuke. "I don't want you to get the idea, Mr. Hughes, that we want you to make too much profit. There is danger in doing that very thing. There is a certain service that we owe to our community. Now, don't misunderstand me, I am not censuring you, but somewhere in the operations of the Eureka business there is a profit that we owe to the public."

Profits mattered to James C. Penney Jr., the company's founder and its guiding spirit for fifty years, but his Christian values mattered even more. The son, grandson and great-grandson of preachers, Penney had started his chain of stores, which were originally called the Golden Rule stores, with a single outlet in Kemmerer, Wyoming, in 1902. Operating in small towns at first, he dedicated the company to service--service to its working-class customers, who expected quality goods at fair prices, and service to its employees, whom he treated like family. Long before the advent of stock options, Penney gave every one of his store manager’s shares in the parent company so that they could share in its profits and success. "Business never was and never will be anything more or less than people serving other people," Penney wrote in Fifty Years with the Golden Rule, his autobiography.

So committed was Penney to his values that Penney Co. stores did not offer credit for many years because he believed that his customers needed to cultivate the virtue of thrift. When the company's board of directors finally voted to make credit available in 1957, long after rivals like Sears had done so, Penney continued to voice his reservations. "You will end up encouraging people to buy things they can not afford and should not buy," he told the board. "By offering credit, we encourage them to overbuy. With me, it is a moral issue of getting people in financial trouble." His ethic of service proved to be good for business. By the time of his death in 1971, the J. C. Penney Co. employed 162,000 people in 1,570 stores that rang up sales of $4.7 billion.

For Milton S. Hershey, too, business was about more than making money. What excited the inventor of the nickel candy bar was the opportunity to make the world, or at least his little corner of it, into a happier place. To that end, he transformed twelve hundred acres of rolling Pennsylvania farmland into America's most famous company town, a place where, as he put it, "the things of modern progress all center in a town that has no poverty, no nuisances and no evil." In contrast to the faceless company towns erected by nineteenth-century industrialists, Hershey, Pennsylvania, offered parks and swimming pools, a golf course and a roller coaster, a hotel, a sports arena, an ice-skating rink, a library and a two-year junior college where tuition was free.

Raised by his mother, Fannie, a dour Mennonite who disdained worldly pleasures, Milton Hershey rebelled by starting a business that brought smiles to the faces of millions of children. His bedrock values included charity, modesty and service. "Business is a matter of Human Service," read a sign on his office wall. After his wife, Kitty, died in 1915, Hershey gave all of his shares in the company to a school for orphan boys that he and his wife had started. "I have no heirs--that is, children," he explained. "So I decided to make the orphan boys of the U.S. my heirs."

Hershey's paternalistic dream faded over time. To his dismay, workers seeking higher wages struck the company in 1937. After his death in 1945, professional managers began to separate the company from the town. They cut back on the services provided by the company, and turned a public park, lake and gardens into a Disney-style theme park that charged admission. But Hershey's legacy persisted. When Hershey Foods was put up for sale in 2002, the people of Hershey knew what to do. Arguing that the company had an obligation to support the town and the school, they hired lawyers to oppose the deal, petitioned state legislators and marched in protest under the Kiss-shaped streetlights on Chocolate Avenue. They won--the nonprofit trust that still owns most of Hershey Foods turned down a $12.5 billion offer from Wrigley and elected to stay independent. "For once," my colleague John Helyar wrote in Fortune, "the almighty dollar had lost."

Born in the nineteenth century and shaped by small-town America, James C. Penney and Milton S. Hershey were old-fashioned men who lived traditional values at work. The ideals that guided them--industry, thrift, charity and service--are not often spoken of anymore in corporate America. But as architects of great companies, Penney and Hershey were in some respects ahead of their time. Each man imbued his company with a purpose that was more inspiring than making money. Both knew that profits were essential, but profits were not the reason to do business. They saw their role as serving their workers and their customers, as well as making money for themselves and their owners. And, in contrast to many executives, then and now, they did not think about business as a series of discrete transactions. Instead, their companies built long-lasting relationships with workers, customers and communities that depended on fairness and trust. Relationships mattered to Penney and Hershey because they focused on the long term. They managed not for the next quarter, but for the next quarter of a century.

In the wake of Enron, WorldCom, Tyco and too many other corporate scandals to enumerate, and at a time when most CEOs are grossly overpaid, workers are seen as expendable and production is shifting to so-called third-world sweatshops, the notion that corporations exist, above all, to provide service to others and to society may sound outdated or naive. It is not.

Forget about the headlines for a moment. You've surely had personal experience with businesses that are driven by an ethic of service. Most are small. Think of your favorite neighborhood merchant, the auto repair shop known for square dealing, or a family-owned restaurant that employs local teenagers. Their owners understand that doing the right thing is good for business, and that reputation is a valuable asset. There's nothing surprising about this. When people say "It's good business to treat your employees well" or "It's good business to go the extra mile for a customer" or "It's good business to give back to the community," we understand what they mean. What is surprising is that more big companies don't think that way.

That has begun to change--dramatically. A growing number of big corporations now believe that doing good is good business, and they are acting accordingly. Some are guided by leaders with spiritual values or by a sense of social responsibility that has been built into their corporate cultures. Others have been rocked by outside forces and all but required to rethink their obligations. Implausibly, the corporate scandals have turned out to be a boon for those who want business to serve the common good. A senior executive at a big software company recently told me: "Companies need to show that they are not just greedy institutions."

You may not have read or heard much about the ways that corporate America is changing for the better. The bad news about business gets more exposure than the good. But consider these examples:



*The industrial giant DuPont, which was once labeled America's worst polluter, is remaking itself from an old economy oil-and-chemicals company into an environmentally friendly life sciences firm. DuPont is committed to a strategy called sustainable growth--that means building businesses that can grow, indefinitely, without depleting natural resources--and so it sold of Conoco, its oil-and-gas unit, and bought Pioneer Hi-Bred International, the world's largest seed company. DuPont also sharply curbed energy usage, emissions and waste and set the gold standard for industrial safety. This $25-billion-a year company, which got its start in 1802 as a manufacturer of gunpowder, now makes soy protein, a corn-based stretchable fabric called Sarona and Tyvek, a versatile material that's made into home insulation and thin, lightweight, hard-to-tear envelopes for FedEx. (Using lightweight envelopes saves fuel in trucks and planes.) Paul Gilding, a former executive director of Greenpeace International who now consults for DuPont, makes the argument for going green in business terms. "It's almost a complete waste of time to talk about ethics and moral values if you want to change business behavior," Gilding told me. "The only thing that's going to drive sustainability in a lasting way is if it leads to profit and growth in big corporations."



*In another remarkable turnaround, Chiquita Brands has become a social and environmental leader in the $5-billion-a-year banana industry. That's an unexpected twist in the story of the 103-year-old company once known as United Fruit, which backed a military coup that toppled the elected government in Guatemala in 1954. (Back then, "banana republic" did not mean the place to shop for khakis.) In 2001, Chiquita, which provides 25 percent of the bananas sold in the United States and Europe, signed a historic labor agreement with a global coalition of banana workers' unions, promising to provide safe and healthy workplaces, eliminate child or forced labor and protect workers' rights to organize. The company also has promised to abide by a set of environmental practices, including eliminating deforestation and reducing pesticide use. "Chiquita has been gradually reinventing the b...