Goldman Sachs' most precious asset – its awesome reputation – is turning as toxic as a pile of rotting collateralised debt obligations. Since the summer it has been accused of being a blood-sucking vampire squid, of grabbing swine flu vaccines, of cruelty to kittens and of taking the Lord's name in vain. (Chief executive Lloyd Blankfein's joke that Goldman was “doing God's work” slipped below his critics' irony radar.) Now, having made $8.4bn in the first nine months of this year and set aside a jaw-dropping $16.7bn in compensation, Goldman stands charged with tossing a few hundred million at US small businesses in a cynical – and unsuccessful – attempt to rebuild its public standing.
Leave aside the fact that Goldman has a decent philanthropic record – both in encouraging well-paid senior staff to donate and in funnelling company funds to worthwhile causes. Overlook also that businesses do not (and should not) hand out shareholders' funds simply because they care. Goldman's problem is that its wholesale focus means it has little business contact with an angry public – it does not do retail diplomacy well. As a result, its well-intentioned charitable programmes risk being ill-received. Fundamentally, Goldman has lost the ability to neutralise the vitriol which greets its every move.
The media-shy Mr Blankfein has done an exceptional job of managing an investment bank during a financial crisis, but is proving inept at taking command of the public mood. The fact that Goldman was so much better than others at spotting that investment banking was quickly returning to “normal” has only enraged its critics further. Banks are once again making money in the same old ways, albeit with cheaper funding and less competition. But the zeitgeist has not returned to normal. Now, small gestures – even grand gestures – will not work. Mr Blankfein's tone-deaf response risks making matters worse.