Devenjer Family Meeting (4)
"The think tank you all seem to have questions about is not a place that generates immediate revenue," Henry said. "It is where we seize the future. While the family office protects the wealth we have today, the think tank will serve as the family's compass, forecasting New York and the global economy ten or twenty years from now. Any organization too buried in day-to-day operations to look ahead will eventually fall behind."
Henry met the eyes of each participant around the table. Then he extended his hand, palm open, and began folding his fingers one by one.
"First, the Future Team. We don't need fortune-tellers here. I'll provide the answers and set the direction. What we need instead are business strategists who can turn my vision into reality, and seasoned operators who can transition into execution roles the moment we launch a project. When I say something will make money, these are the people who will immediately map out supply chains and draft actionable plans. You may not realize it yet, but I have a great many ideas. The Future Team is the organization that will bring them to life."
Henry paused, his gaze drifting toward an old typewriter in the corner of the conference room.
"Once computer technology advances, we'll be able to analyze data and map the future like a chart. Those bulky mainframes that currently fill an entire room will soon shrink smaller than a briefcase and sit on every desk. When that day comes, we won't merely be balancing ledgers. We'll track in real time what consumers bought this morning and predict what they'll want tomorrow. Logistics flows, energy consumption, even the fickle moods of voters will all be reduced to numbers on our screens. Learning to ride that wave of data ahead of everyone else—that will be the ultimate task of the Future Team. For now, of course, I'll simply have to play the role of the machine myself. Haha."
He folded his thumb, thinking privately, Future Team sounds impressive, but in reality it's just a verification unit that dresses up my answers with plausible justifications and execution plans. At least this way I won't have to keep hearing people call me an alien or a time traveler.
Henry continued. "Second, the Agenda Team. These will be the architects of public opinion—crafting arguments favorable to our family, leaking detailed reports to the press, and pressuring the government to adopt the policies we want. Beyond defending the family's reputation, they will also handle offensive narrative shaping when necessary. From permitting officers at New York City Hall to policy makers in Washington, they will be the ones building the networks that turn everyone into our allies."
He folded his index finger, his private thought following: Eventually we'll even organize comment squads and dominate the entire media meta.
"Third, the Intelligence Team. They will run informants to dismantle competitors' business structures and hunt for weaknesses. If necessary, they won't hesitate to engage in industrial espionage—emptying the enemy's magazine before they can even aim at us."
Middle finger folded. No more taking hits without hitting back. First strike wins, in any era.
"Fourth, the Advisory Team. We'll bind university professors, former high-ranking officials, and technical experts from every field to us as consultants, placing them under the family's influence. Publicly, they'll serve as an excellent shield, wrapping our ventures in the respectable packaging of 'objectivity and expertise.'"
Ring finger folded. In the end, the world runs on credentials. A high-school dropout ranting and a Harvard professor speaking with authority carry entirely different weight, even when saying the same thing.
"Fifth, the HR Team. Through professional headhunting, they will recruit the key talent we've identified. They'll also manage and evaluate the family's human resources. For the time being, however, prioritize placing our own people so they can build expertise. If we urgently need capable managers, feel free to poach the top ace from the hottest headhunting firm in the industry."
Pinky folded. From what I've seen, headhunting in this era is still primitive. Firms just slot in whoever happens to be in their network. If we start directly scouting talent that fits our needs, we could eventually spin this team off into its own profitable subsidiary.
Henry extended his index finger again. "And there is one final team I want. The Patent Team. Its mission will be to preemptively secure the technological patents and licenses our family needs. Monopolizing people, technology, and their source materials is its ultimate objective. However, the timing isn't right to establish it just yet. Simply be aware that this plan exists."
Patents… game consoles… the D-pad. Maybe we'll brand it the Devenjer Key from the start. I've seen how many old engineers lost their minds over this stuff.
When Henry finished, the room filled with low murmurs as the attendees conferred among themselves. He took a sip of coffee and set the cup down. Immediately, a wave of questions followed. As expected, Bart was the first to speak.
"Well… the necessity is clear. I agree with both the family office and the think tank. That said, I do have some complaints about these documents. Perhaps you deliberately kept the content thin to create an image reversal through your presentation? Either way, Henry, you certainly came across as highly capable today. Secretary! Transcribe today's discussion exactly and redistribute it before the end of the day!"
At Bart's pointed remark, Henry could only smile awkwardly. The proposals for the family office and think tank had indeed been written at the barest level—mere outlines describing them as "the family's hands and feet" and "a head without authority." Still, he wanted to defend himself. I didn't have time to write more. I only started preparing this yesterday. If I'd fleshed it out completely, I wouldn't have finished before the meeting.
Instead of offering excuses that might sound weak, Henry simply nodded in agreement. "You're right, Secretary. Make sure the content is properly detailed. I won't have to say it twice. Haha."
"Boss, I now clearly understand the roles and necessity of both the family office and the think tank. Realistically, however, the costs will rise far more than you may be anticipating."
At Gilberto's words, Henry replied, "Of course they will. It would be strange if expenses didn't increase when recruiting talent. Roughly speaking, how much do you estimate the increase will be?"
Gilberto pulled a fountain pen from his briefcase and tapped it thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes toward the ceiling, then began scribbling calculations on the back of a document. Moments later he pushed his glasses up and slid the paper—now covered in numbers—toward Henry.
"Boss, our family's current committee of one hundred members costs us 4.5 million dollars annually in personnel expenses. Not all of it is cash outflow, of course—there are welfare costs and tax-saving items mixed in. Still, that's an average of twenty-five thousand dollars per person, which is on par with senior executive compensation at most major corporations. But if we're moving to the specialized team structure you've outlined, simply reassigning existing staff won't be enough. We'll need to bring in ten external manager-level experts to lead each team."
Henry considered Gilberto's practical assessment for a moment before answering. "For the investment team I'll be running, we don't need Wall Street's star traders or famous fund managers. What we need are discreet, quick-handed worker bees. Ideally, people who can operate without drawing market attention."
"That would reduce the cost considerably. Star performers demand not only high base salaries but enormous performance bonuses. One moment…"
Gilberto scribbled more figures, then turned the paper back to Henry and pointed at each number as he spoke. "Even after reallocating current personnel, we'll still need to recruit ten core experts from outside to head each team. In particular, we'll require veteran operators capable of executing your instructions across thousands of accounts without detection. These individuals won't demand profit shares; instead, they'll expect fixed salaries well above industry average as compensation for maintaining secrecy. The same applies to the rapid-response members of the legal team. Moreover, a single heavyweight attorney from the New York federal prosecutor's office will easily command over two hundred thousand dollars a year—comparable to President Jimmy Carter's salary. Let me summarize once more."
Gilberto set aside the crowded page and pulled out a fresh sheet, writing new calculations. When finished, he slid it toward Henry and began pointing out each line item.
Federal prosecutors turned lawyers really are expensive. Two hundred thousand in '79… how much would that be worth in twenty-six years? Still, money isn't the issue. If they deliver that kind of value, they'll be our firewall against future regulations and legal disputes.