DICK FULD, 72
Traditionally in pantomime, the villain enters stage left to a volley of boos and hisses. He snarls and sneers and despite frequent protestations is unable to elicit sympathy. Without fail, the rotter eventually gets his comeuppance.
For the past decade, dick Fuld has performed this richly comic role with aplomb.
as chief executive of defunct lehman Brothers, he’s the banker americans love to hate, their symbol of all that’s wrong with capitalism.
When lehman collapsed under the weight of bad investments, Fuld did not go to jail nor were any criminal prosecutions filed.
His pride took a hit for sure, but he maintains sprawling homes in Connecticut and Florida. in the eight years prior to the crash he was paid, on average, £47m a year.
He is Wall Street’s Captain Cook, its Wicked Witch, its King rat all rolled into one. Whether he got the comeuppance he deserved, however, is another matter.
Physically, Fuld was born to play the baddie. a fierce, unsmiling creature with hulking shoulders and a cruel mouth, he has a glare which could turn a pint of gold top sour.
on Wall Street he was known as ‘the Gorilla’, a reference to both his sizeable frame and unsettling habit of speaking in grunts.
He addressed traders like he were a Mafia capo. ‘rip their throats out,’ was one popular refrain.
Fuld joined the air force out of university as a trainee in the hope of becoming a test pilot. a brawl with a commanding officer whom he claimed was taunting a puny cadet soon put paid to that career plan. after lehman recruited him in 1969 as a fixed income trader, he caught the eye of chief executive lewis Glucksman, a complex soul with a predilection for three-martini lunches and hurling telephones.
Fuld grew to become more machine than man, spending endless hours staring at his green screen. His elevation to the top job in 1994 became inevitable. and he remained a banker of the old school. an immaculate dresser, his navy suits were cut at richards in Connecticut, his silken ties procured from Hermes and his black lace-ups always shined to high buff.
‘Sloppy dress, sloppy thinking,’ he would say. When lehman workers voted to adopt a dress-down Friday the chief executive declared solemnly: ‘this is a dark day for the firm.’
Fuld expected his charges to apply similarly exacting standards to their private lives. Marriage was encouraged, divorce frowned upon and affairs not tolerated.
one of Fuld’s redeeming features is his devotion to his wife Kathy, a towering blonde with whom he has three children.
Colleagues say he would interrupt meetings to take her calls, affectionately addressing her as ‘Fuld’. His finest hour came during 9/11. When the financial district was evacuated, Fuld and his team decamped to the Sheraton Hotel. Staff crammed into rooms to carry on trading. in the subsequent 2001 recession, lehman outperformed the rest of the industry. When the walls came tumbling down seven years later, Congress had a field day. the sight of Fuld under heavy questioning on Capitol Hill, his stony face betraying not a hint of contrition, remains one of the most enduring images of the credit crunch.
last year he attempted a comeback of sorts, launching corporate finance firm Matrix Wealth Partners. Whether it succeeds remains to be seen.
Fuld’s only public utterances since appearing in front of Congress was in 2015. it was a rubber-chicken lunch for investors in new york’s Grand Hyatt Hotel.
addressing lehman’s demise, he blamed the uS government, the global economy, the Federal reserve. Pretty much everyone bar richard S Fuld Jr. those present said it was a painful to watch. the applause which greeted his performance was lukewarm at best.
as the claps died out, Wall Street’s panto villain swiftly exited stage right, pursued by lawyers.