Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy

Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy

by Daniel Altman, Alan Sklar

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What if you could look behind the headlines of the global economy to see how it really worked? Instead of listening to pundits, politicians, and protestors, you could see firsthand how everyone from migrant workers to central bank governors lived their lives. Then you could decide for yourself where the big trends were heading. Now you can. Connected: 24 Hours

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What if you could look behind the headlines of the global economy to see how it really worked? Instead of listening to pundits, politicians, and protestors, you could see firsthand how everyone from migrant workers to central bank governors lived their lives. Then you could decide for yourself where the big trends were heading. Now you can. Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy isn't another polemic for or against globalization. Daniel Altman takes you on a whirlwind journey through more than a dozen cities, gathering points of view from moguls, ministers, and the men and women on the street. At each stop, you'll hear how the world's workers played their parts in the events of a single day. Starting with their stories, related in their own words, you'll take on pressing questions in new ways: Can poor countries become rich too quickly? Can corruption ever be a good thing? Do companies need crises in order to stay competitive? What determines the global economic pecking order? Most important, you'll learn how the billions of decisions made by individuals can and do change the future.Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy is part travel guide, part owner's manual—an absorbing, accessible, and essential road map for every citizen of the global economy in the twenty-first century.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Altman's overview of the world's economic workings is useful and informative, though surprisingly dutiful considering the author's promise of a "whirlwind tour." Moving briskly between topics—pegged to an hour-by-hour timeline gimmick—he discusses many concepts: exchange rates, trade deficits, international deals, currency markets, corruption, financial derivatives, technological innovation, the importance of oil. While addressing the outsized role of the U.S., Altman offers valuable glimpses of key foreign economies and leaves us with a solid understanding of how they fit into "the world trading system." "If you want to cope with connectedness," journalist Altman writes, "you have to be as connected as you can—in other words, you have to pay attention to what's happening in the rest of the world." Granted, anyone who's already paying attention will find much of the book's information somewhat remedial. And Altman's attitude toward globalization is so studiously evenhanded and argument-free that the reader may long for the glossy zeal of an advocate like Thomas Friedman or a detractor like Lou Dobbs. Still, as global macroeconomic primers go, this is a quick read that reminds us that we're all in this together—and that many of us have an awful lot to learn to keep up with the global economy. (May 1)

Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information
Library Journal
Seasoned journalist Altman isn't for or against globalization, he just wants to describe it to you accurately. Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
An illuminating tour of the world economy. In more than a dozen vignettes, veteran journalist Altman describes the people, deals and issues that helped shape the international economy on a randomly chosen day, June 15, 2005. His effort to elucidate the complexities of globalization abounds with revealing stories. Haier, a high-end Chinese appliance company, designs niche products, partners with local companies in overseas markets and for two decades has boosted sales by an astonishing 68 percent per year. Changes in required labor skills present Calgary oil companies with huge challenges in recruiting workers from abroad. Multinationals play a major role in countries like Vietnam, where Intel has worked with the government to become the driving force for the entire computer industry. Altman uses each story as a window on a crucial market: stocks, credit, currencies, oil, etc. He presents information in accessible language, whether describing the strategic linkup of a telecommunications giant (Sweden's Ericsson) and a music retailer (Napster), or the battles over trademarks and copyrights now so common in the marketplace. His examples frequently illustrate connections: Change the interest rates in one country and you affect the entire global market; raise oil prices and it becomes more difficult to move goods around and to obtain raw materials for hundreds of products. One chapter explains why the U.S. sets so many global rules and gets to appoint the president of the World Bank. (Size and wealth matter.) Altman notes that interdependency in the IT age demands international cooperation. Danger lurks in the form of sabotage, a lethal computer virus or even a simple typo. In 2005, a Tokyobroker wanted to sell one share of a stock for 610,000 yen but entered an order to sell 610,000 shares. He wiped out $224 million in potential profits. Invaluable reading for Globalization 101. Agent: Robert N. Preskill/LitWest Group LLC
From the Publisher

“Instead of the usual heavy and indigestible fare, Daniel Altman cleverly serves bite-sized, tasty portions of economic insight that will leave readers hungry for more.” —Sylvia Nasar, author of A Beautiful Mind

“Altman's easy narration, merged with a few well-researched anecdotes, can offer that winning combination sought by all writers of popular economics, a succinct overview of the well-known with an original, intellectually stimulating point.” —Mario Pisani, Financial Times

“Altman gives us a revealing view from the trenches.” —Time

“Clever . . . [Altman] eschews straightforward narrative, favoring zoom-in, zoom-out impressions and lengthy quotations from a kaleidoscope of people.” —Stephen Kotkin, The New York Times

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Product Details

Tantor Media, Inc.
Publication date:
Edition description:
Library - Unabridged CD
Product dimensions:
6.70(w) x 6.40(h) x 0.90(d)

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Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy

By Daniel Altman

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Copyright © 2007 Daniel Altman
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4299-2310-1



NEW YORK 12:03 A.M. JUNE 15


A scratched-up old train pulls in to the small station at Helenelund, just a few stops from the center of Stockholm. Outside the station, a road leads through a leafy working-class suburb. It passes under a low-slung highway, and there, across a two-way street, is a six-story cement building with the word "Ericsson" on the side. Next to it is another one, this one faced in brick. Behind them are two more. And there, off in the distance, the name of one of the world's biggest builders of telephone networks is visible again.

Six thousand miles away, at the wrong end of Los Angeles's trendy Melrose Avenue, a plain office block lies unmarked except for a white sign that bears an abstract image of a cat wearing headphones. A couple of blocks down the street, a heavy metal band is scorching its way through a set in a studio that used to be someone's house. These two buildings are the headquarters of Napster, a former file-sharing service that is now an online music store listed on the stock market.

On the face of it, the two businesses make one of the oddest couples in the corporate world. One company is a pillar of its nation's corporate identity, a leader in design and manufacturing for over a century. The other is an upstart that began life as an illegal network of tech junkies and only recently became a respectable brand. Ericsson has more than fifty thousand employees in 140 countries. Napster has a couple hundred, most of them located in those two largely anonymous buildings on the edge of Beverly Hills. Yet in the global economy, the age-old telecommunications giant and the cutting-edge music retailer had no trouble finding each other.

For some time, Ericsson has been helping the operators of mobile phone networks to sell music to their customers, says Svante Holm, Ericsson's sales manager for applications and content. Some of them want to slap their own name on the services, but others think that there's a better way.

"A lot of them say, we are not a music store, that's not our core competence," Holm says, speaking — how else? — from his mobile phone on a train somewhere in Europe. Instead, these operators want to piggyback on an established brand in the music world. Though it's less than ten years old, Napster may hold the answer.

"We looked at the different brands in the industry, and we saw that their brand was recognized more than anybody else for legal and illegal downloads," Holm recounts. "We actually called them up," he says. "We flew over to L.A. and met their president and their business development team. That was the first meeting, really, and then it all went from there."

In this case, Muhammad was not expecting a visit from the mountain.

"We were like, 'Wow, that's a very interesting opportunity. I didn't even think about partnering with you in this way,'" says Larry Linietsky, Napster's senior vice president for worldwide business development. "And then over time, we began to understand what they were doing." Where Ericsson had a technical platform looking for a brand, he explains, Napster had a brand looking for as many platforms as possible.

It took six months of negotiation, but Ericsson and Napster came up with an online music service that would deliver songs to mobile phones and personal computers interchangeably. "The timing was perfect," Linietsky says. "There's nothing else like it out there today."

This time, working together really worked; Ericsson's corporate customers wanted online music for their mobile phone networks, and Napster was glad to supply it — along with its hot brand name. But that's not always how it goes. The road to corporate hell can be paved with extremely good intentions.

Companies link up for reasons ranging from the idealistic to the downright venal, and they do it in several different ways. The most minor can be sharing technologies, as American and Japanese car manufacturers have done for decades. After that, there are several steps up the ladder to a complete merger, which can take the form of anything from two companies joining together under an all-new banner to a hostile takeover followed by layoffs and liquidation.

The most successful linkups are usually built on a combination of comforting similarities and useful differences. Though that notion seems fairly obvious now, it wasn't always so.

In the 1960s, ambitious executives like James Ling of LTV and Harold Geneen of ITT constructed gargantuan conglomerates made up of dozens or even hundreds of often unrelated businesses. The rationale was to insulate investors against the ups and downs in any one industry by diversifying across several sectors. The reality was disappointing; with little in common, the component businesses were often hampered rather than helped by coming under unified management. In addition, executives sometimes used profitable businesses to subsidize those that were failing instead of simply letting them die. Their priority, it seemed, was not to make a profit for investors but to keep their own empires intact. Still, within a few decades, almost all of the conglomerates had crumbled or dissolved.

These days you can usually find a strategic reason for a merger announcement, even if it's not immediately obvious. An apt case study comes from eBay's acquisitions. In July 2002, the leading Internet auction site bought PayPal, a Web-based system for buying and selling products, for $1.5 billion. At that time, eBay had its own payment system, called Billpoint, but PayPal's was more popular. PayPal's technology, like Billpoint's, could be combined with eBay's existing auction platform. By bringing on PayPal — with its well-developed payment infrastructure and its valuable brand name — the company would provide a streamlined, immediately familiar tool for buyers and sellers alike.

Then, in September 2005, eBay offered $2.6 billion — with up to $1.5 billion more in performance-based bonuses — for Skype, one of the pioneers in voice-over-Internet telephony. Why did an Internet auction site need a telephone service? The reason wasn't obvious right away, but there certainly was one. Several companies with big online platforms, like Yahoo!, Google, and Microsoft, were getting into the voice-over-Internet business. If, one day, they decided to offer auction services, then they'd also have an added feature — voice — that eBay lacked. Nobody knew whether customers would want to talk along with their auctions ... but they might. With a voice partner in place, eBay wouldn't have to worry about getting caught in an unfair fight later on.

Even mergers that make sense on paper can run into trouble because of personal and cultural factors. In 1997, when Morgan Stanley, one of Wall Street's top investment banks, merged with Dean Witter, a similarly big name from the world of financial brokerages, it was the latest in a string of mergers bringing these two seemingly complementary types of businesses together. Yet the corporate cultures were jarringly different — a hierarchical, bread-and-butter retail brokerage firm versus a sparkling hothouse for financial wizards — and their respective leaders were intent on hanging on to power. They were so intent, in fact, that they touched off an eight-year battle over the future of the company. The infighting didn't end until Philip J. Purcell, the Dean Witter man who had been leading the merged company, resigned in June 2005. His replacement, installed by rebels on the board of directors, was John Mack, the former Morgan Stanley president who was passed over for the top job eight years earlier.

And those two companies were both based in the United States. When Daimler-Benz and Chrysler got together in 1998, the results were even messier. Daimler-Benz was a classic German conglomerate, backed by big banks and with its fingers in a variety of transport industries ranging from heavy trucks to airplane engines. Its name meant solidity and permanence, if not the cutting edge of technology. Chrysler was a down-the-line car company that had set a new standard for efficiency in the costly design process during the early 1990s but was shackled by a history of financial problems. In the past, its emphasis had been more on innovation than on long-lasting quality.

At first it seemed as though the merged companies had little interest in cooperating, even in the tried-and-true format of basing their vehicles on similar chassis. The new company's problems were amplified by several lawsuits related to the merger. But the main problem was figuring out which corporate model to adopt: that of Chrysler, striving to retain a lean-and-mean focus on building cars, or Daimler-Benz, a giant that relied on its workers' loyalty and its reputation for quality.

In 2000, amid calls for the resignation of the company's chief executive, a well-known investors' rights advocate said, "It may be better to have a miserable end rather than endless misery." As the economy slumped in 2001, a downturn in the global car market made the company appear even more bulky and uncompetitive, a product of empire building by power-hungry managers. It took five years for the chief executive, Jürgen Schrempp, to resign, a decision that raised the company's share price by 9 percent in a day, and other senior management from the German side soon followed. In the meantime, the economy had picked up, and the merger looked like it could finally work.

For both Morgan Stanley Dean Witter and DaimlerChrysler, part of the problem was the idea that the marriages would be those of corporate equals. When two businesses of similar size get together, it's not always obvious who should take control or whose culture should dominate. It may seem, in hindsight, that both merged companies made the wrong choice. The real failure, however, may have been to make the hard choices: which staff to cut, which operations to close, even which directors to force out, in order to stay true to a single vision of the new company. As they learned, there is little point in pursuing such a big merger anything less than wholeheartedly.

Culture clash isn't the only thing that can sink a corporate marriage, though. Sometimes, one spouse quickly finds out that the other is basically a gold digger. When the high-tech boom of the late 1990s sent the share prices of Internet companies skyward, some of them decided to turn their newfound paper wealth, which was based mainly on investors' eager expectations, into real assets. The shining example was America Online, the Internet service provider that arranged to buy Time Warner, one of the world's biggest media companies, in 2001. Initially, there was talk of synergies: how AOL's platform could carry Time Warner's content to larger audiences. But nowadays the deal is seen more as AOL's clever way of trading its Internet-bubble-inflated shares for Time Warner's real, tangible assets — in other words, as a steal. Indeed, the new-media-plus-old-media equation doesn't even fit anymore. It is AOL's Internet hand-holding service, not Time Warner's mature media empire, that is now seen as teetering on the brink of obsolescence.

For each of the evils described above, however, there can be a contrasting benefit. The most obvious is economies of scale. When two companies that do the same thing get together, they usually find that they don't need quite so many managers and back-office staff; duplicate departments for human resources, accounting, and similar functions tend to disappear. More controversially, the motivation for a partnership is often simply a lower cost of production for goods or services. That's the driving force behind so much of the outsourcing now used by companies in rich countries.

But on a more subtle level, buyouts can also enliven the buyers. Adding a hungry, up-and-coming division to a big firm can be just the thing to shake up a mature business and bring in new ideas — something Andrew Ertel, the chief executive of Evolution Markets, was taking advantage of on June 15.

Evolution Markets, which is based in New York, provides a setting for companies and countries to trade pollution permits handed out, respectively, by governments and treaties. All over the world, countries have found that emissions of carbon dioxide and other pollutants can be controlled by issuing these permits. They provide the lowest-cost way for society to reduce pollution.

The permits to pollute exist because it's not easy for governments, on their own, to know which companies can cut emissions most cheaply. All the governments have to do is issue permits covering the target amount of emissions, either by assigning them to companies — mostly in the energy and manufacturing sectors, which generate more pollution than service-sector businesses — or by putting them up for auction. In either case, companies can buy and sell the permits until they're left in the hands of the ones for whom cutting emissions is the most costly; those companies, clearly, are the ones to whom the permits to pollute are most valuable. The other companies are better off selling the permits and cutting their emissions to obey the law; for them, it's the cheaper option.

Evolution Markets is in the business of making this trading happen. Ertel was in Slovakia to check on Evolution Markets' joint venture there.


I arrived late last night from London, where I was working to shore up our emissions brokerage desk in London (which is on top of the market, and we want to keep it that way) and meet with long-standing clients.

So I roll out of bed in Bratislava after a deep slumber — thank God for Ambien — and meet up with the senior management of Evolution Markets' Slovak joint venture, Evolution Menert. Our breakfast is at the hotel café's outdoor balcony, which overlooks a refurbished plaza in the Old City and the heavily secured American embassy. Greeting me are Ivan Mojík, a former official with the Slovak Ministry of the Environment and now director of Evolution Menert, and Miroslav Wöllner, Jr., the young, ambitious business director for the joint venture.

Our one-hour breakfast turns into a four-hour affair as we have an extensive, and at times animated, discussion of the state of the business and our plans for expansion.

Although we have the industry's most experienced emissions trading team working for us in the U.S., staffing is a huge issue for us in Europe — especially central Europe. Expanding in a region whose economy is in transition to cover an emerging commodity market, such as emissions, is a big challenge. Ivan, Miro, and I review a stack of résumés from prospects in Hungary, Poland, and the Czech Republic to support our regional expansion.

I'm also looking for the full 360, so we delve deep into the Slovak market: the business situation in the region; an update on arcane Slovak politics; efforts to improve the energy infrastructure and bring more renewable energy to the country; and, perhaps most important, our emerging competitors. The good news is that although there are lots of competitors in the region, our market share is strong.


Excerpted from Connected: 24 Hours in the Global Economy by Daniel Altman. Copyright © 2007 Daniel Altman. Excerpted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Meet the Author

Audie Award finalist Alan Sklar has narrated nearly two hundred audiobooks and has won several AudioFile Earphones Awards.

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