Free Speech or Free Lunch?
You Can’t Have Both
“There is no free lunch.”
That was the first of Rhodes College Economics Professor Ben Bolch’s Three Rules of Life that he laid out on Day 1 of Econ 202, circa 1989. The others were, if my imperfect memory serves, “Them that has, gets” and “Don’t sleep with the help.”
It was as if Dr. Bolch was trying to help the ambitious 19-year-olds seated in front of him avoid life’s inevitable hard knocks by ingraining in us that:
You don’t get something for nothing,
The rich get richer, and
It’s generally best to “keep it in your pants” (at least at work)
I was reminded of Rule #1 when reading last week’s Wall Street Journal article about Ben Cohen, the eponymous co-founder of Ben & Jerry’s who is trying to buy back the ice cream brand from Unilever, the global food conglomerate to which Cohen and team sold their company a quarter century ago. Though the Vermonters insisted on a contract preserving post-acquisition autonomy—including an independent board of directors—its recent criticism of Israel and the Trump administration has catalyzed legal action by their corporate overlords.
With briefs flying in every direction, it’s unclear which party will prevail in court. And my purpose here is not to debate who is in the right, rather than to point out the near impossibility of B&J having it both ways. If a person or company wants to retain the ability to say what they want, when they want, and about whom they want, there’s one rule: Don’t take the money. Because if you allow someone else to buy you lunch, in whatever form it might take, there are always strings attached.
I don’t agree with many—perhaps most—of Ben & Jerry’s political stances, but I love their delicious products. At the risk of being hypocritical, I’ve also spent thousands of dollars over the years at Chick-fil-A despite opposing their fundamentalist approach to gay marriage. There is, however, one key difference between these situations—Ben & Jerry’s is owned by a public company (ULVR) that is beholden to shareholders, myriad stakeholders, and the courts. Chick-fil-A, on the other hand, is a private, family-owned enterprise that answers only to itself and its Christian values. That independence enables the company to mostly do what it wants.
While notable, the B&J example is hardly unique, as demonstrated by another recent news item from the sports world. Jack Nicklaus is perhaps the most respected professional golfer of all time. In addition to his 18 major championships and 73 Tour victories, the Golden Bear’s enduring class, family-dedication, and philanthropic endeavors have earned him a sterling reputation. He is a giant in every way.
But in 2007, Jack accepted—through the Nicklaus Companies LLC—a $145 million loan from New York real estate developer Howard Milstein, then turned around and passed $100 million of that onto his children as an early inheritance. The loan was to be paid back by future profits from golf course design and licensing royalties, but after the 2008 financial collapse, the business ground to a halt, interest compounded, and the liability soon crested $300 million. Whoopsie!
Not surprisingly—at least not in hindsight—Milstein gained control of the business and trademarks, including the Nicklaus name. The patriarch chafed at having to answer to his new owner and the resulting lawsuits have dragged on for years.
What’s crazy to me is that the way Jack fought this legal battle made him seem oblivious to a fact any first-year economics student would know: If someone gives you a nine-figure check, they’re going to fight like hell to get their money back.
Presumably, Nicklaus will die with plenty of cash and his reputation intact, so we needn’t shed tears for him, but this misguided transaction reminds me of Warren Buffett’s wise edict: “Never risk what you have and need for what you don't have and don't need.”
In other words, don’t gift your kids $100 million that is collateralized by your literal name. Because, well, the free lunch thing!
“Never risk what you have and need for what we don't have and don't need.” -Warren Buffett
Sometimes I think I should give up my own career performing comedy and go into talent management. Few people have the experience I have in the respective worlds of comedy and business, and I believe I could make millions helping more popular comics monetize their voices.
But then I think about my voice. Every day, I come up with new ideas to express and questions I want explore publicly. What if I wanted to criticize a right-wing comedian or come out in support of a Democratic politician who won’t kowtow to the orthodoxy of the Left? Sharing opinions of this kind is not the job of a manager who gets paid to promote his clients’ voices rather than his own.
So, I think, screw that. Freedom of expression is the hill I’m willing to die on. And yes, I do think of it as a death. There are lots of good things about working for someone else, but it comes at the sacrifice of your personal First Amendment. Pretty much any job requires some degree of “staying on message” or “shutting the hell up.”
If you want to take the money, take the money. But don’t act surprised when you lose your voice or your street cred. There is no free lunch but, there is often indigestion.
Also, if you can avoid it, don’t sleep with the help.
THE END (but keep reading)
Moving to New York has been a big adjustment but it has allowed me to meet some incredibly interesting people, including Gretchen Rubin, Paul Shaffer, and Anthony Scaramucci. The Mooch (it’s a term of endearment!) was kind enough to have me on his podcast, Open Book (find it here) and even said some nice things about my collection of essays, which you should also check out.
Speaking of great podcasts, author Jane Borden joined me on Reasonably Happy podcast this week to chat about her book Cults Like Us, a thoroughly researched, thoughtfully presented, and—at times—wickedly funny account of how "eccentric doomsday beliefs of our Puritan founders are still driving American culture today.”
A Religious Studies major who survived the cult of NYC improv comedy in the early aughts, Jane’s writing has appeared in Vanity Fair, NYT, Washington Post, and New York magazine
Check out our chat here.
That’s it for now. Carpe diem!