I didn’t feel sorry for Barack Obama and Supreme Court Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr., as they sort of botched the constitutional oath of office.
Oh, sure, as a moment of theater, stumbling your way through the promise to faithfully execute the Founding Fathers for writing such a clunky oath, wasn’t going to win Obama and Roberts any prizes.
But, so what? Did you actually listen to that oath of office? There was no non-compete agreement. There was no contract language that forced Obama to promise never to say anything bad about the United States, at the risk of losing his severance and having a burly Human Resources guy beat him about the head.
There was nothing in that oath about Obama never sneaking out back to the Rose Garden and puffing on a Marlboro, because it violates company policy about never smoking within 50 miles of corporate headquarters.
Who cares if Roberts and Obama had to meet again later and do it all over? If I had a sweet employment contract like that, I’d chant it every morning and beg the personnel folks to explain it to me over and over, just for the fun of it.
Can you imagine if the oath for all those guys over at Fidelity required them to “preserve, protect and defend the reputation of the Magellan Fund, even though it never seems to make any money any more?” What a complicated life that would be.
To be a columnist at Banker & Tradesman, the publisher requires a drop of blood and right of first refusal for the first-born child.
As it says right there on a plaque in the newsroom, “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully crank out a weekly column, and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the right of Banker & Tradesman to abuse me as it sees fit, if my price exceeds the average variable cost of a typical columnist, at which point the company can maximize profit by increasing output at or about where marginal revenue equals marginal cost. So help me God.”
I don’t even know exactly what that means, but at least the publisher and I got it right the first time, when we said it out loud. Obama? He got off easy.
Oaf Of Office
On the other hand, Roberts must be wondering whether he’s ever going to be invited to any White House sleepovers. To flub the President’s oath ceremony is somewhat akin to going out to lunch with the CEO and dripping spaghetti sauce on your tie.
Chief Justice Roberts is the kind of guy who, if he had been invited to administer the gubernatorial oath of office to Mitt Romney in Massachusetts, would have broken out the cigars and whiskey at the Mormon celebration party.
In the corporate world, whether you faithfully execute your duties, or execute your duties faithfully, there are lessons to be learned from the Obama-Roberts thing.
Don’t mingle with the CEO. Nothing good will come of it. The CEO is top dog because he has the perfect blend of mental illness and aggression to manage the company and sell big bunches of mortgage-backed securities. Is that the kind of guy you want to share an oath with? Or even a drink?
Yes, yes, you have this dream that you will be alone one day in the elevator with the CEO on the way to the 44th floor and he will marvel at your intellect and belt buckle and invite you out to dinner at the Union Oyster House, where he will offer you that coveted senior vice president slot.
That’s not what’s going to happen. You’re going to come across as nervous and over-eager — especially after one of your oyster flies across the table and lands in the CEO’s lap. He will assign you to be the United Way loaned executive in the Toledo office.
John Roberts has tenure; he’s a Supreme Court justice. He can afford to cavort with chief executives and faithfully muff the oath of office. You wouldn’t be that lucky. Avoid all contact with CEOs. Stick to your own kind.â–
