Someone I respect a lot thought my article in the current issue of Fortune about Gil Amelio’s latest venture was “a bit heavy-handed and gossipy.” The article, “A SPAC That Went Splat,” is about a special purpose acquisition company, also known as a blank-check company, organized by some prominent Apple (AAPL) alumni from yesteryear, including Amelio, longtime IBMer (IBM) Ellen Hancock and co-founder Steve Wozniak.
You can read my piece and judge for yourself its relative heavy-handedness, which I interpret to mean my having been unkind to Amelio, as well as whether or not the article is merely gossipy, again, which I suppose is a way of saying it is titillating yet trivial or irrelevant.
I’ve already mentioned that I respect my critic quite a bit, so I thought about the criticism. Unsurprisingly, I respectuflly disagree. This story is important because it’s one of managerial hubris and investor naivete. Amelio and his crew spun a tale of newfangled convergence and then went out and bought a plain-vanilla dog of a semiconductor company. Investors, wowed by big names and their association with an unqualified success — that would be Apple — forked over $176 million for Amelio’s SPAC. (It’s worth about $14 million today.) Never mind that Amelio hadn’t been at Apple for 10 years, that Wozniak had been gone longer and that Hancock’s last big effort was a Web hosting company that went kaplooey.
SPAC’s have an alarming level of respectability these days. Yet all they are is a bet on a management team. (My colleague Jennifer Reingold explained last year how they work here.) They’ve been called poor-man’s private equity firms, but even the worst private-equity shop makes numerous bets, not one, as a SPAC does.
Andrew Ross Sorkin recently wrote an entertaining column in the New York Times about one prominent SPAC. He ended with the observation that only one prominent investment bank, Goldman Sachs (GS), so far had stayed away from underwriting SPACs.
Exactly a month later The Wall Street Journal reported that Goldman will enter the field , though with a slight twist. It will allow management to own only 10% of the purchased company, rather than the typical 20%. As if that makes the whole thing virtuous.
Is it heavy-handed and gossipy to expose how management enriches itself, generates fees for investment bankers (including, potentially, the high and mighty Goldman Sachs), and pulls one over on investors?
I think not.
