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71 pages 2 hours read

Ron Chernow

Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.

Nonfiction | Biography | Adult | Published in 1998

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Themes

Cooperation Over Competition

Rockefeller’s preference for cooperation over competition constitutes the central theme of the book. Rockefeller was no systematic theorist. Had he been one, however, Chernow suggests that he would have been closer to Karl Marx than Adam Smith.

At an early stage in his career, Rockefeller became convinced that capitalism engendered wasteful economic competition. The years immediately following the Civil War were crucially instructive in this respect, for it was then that Rockefeller observed so many market fluctuations that he began “to doubt the workings of Adam Smith’s invisible hand” and became convinced that the oil industry “demanded a systemic solution” (130). In the quest for this solution he was aided by one of his partners, Henry Morrison Flagler, who during the Civil War also “had much occasion to ponder the contradictions of a market economy in which dynamic industries swiftly expand during prosperity only to find themselves overextended during downturns” (107). With Flagler at his side, negotiating revolutionary railroad deals that brought their firm unprecedented advantages, Rockefeller set out to transform the oil industry into a rational cartel, immune to the market economy’s boom-and-bust cycles.

The first step was to take control of rival Cleveland refiners. When word leaked out that the corrupt Pennsylvania legislature had voted to give Rockefeller and his railroad collaborators an exclusive charter that would allow them to collude on prices and shipments—a charter later revoked due to political pressure—Rockefeller used the threat of a state-sanctioned monopoly to scare his rivals. In less than six weeks, he “swallowed up twenty-two of his twenty-six Cleveland competitors” (143). Rockefeller “questioned the canons of free-for-all capitalism” (149). While Rockefeller’s claims that he had to dominate the oil industry in order to save it were clearly self-serving, his papers do show that he viewed Standard Oil “as the antidote to Social Darwinism” and sincerely “tried to reconcile trusts with Christianity” (154).

Having “rescued” the oil industry from itself through ruthless-yet-innovative acts of consolidation, and in the process having protected his own operations from competition, Rockefeller at times behaved in a reactionary manner. In its underhanded attempts to crush the Tidewater Pipeline, for instance, Standard Oil abandoned all pretenses of innovation and became a “benighted custodian of the status quo, squelching progress to safeguard its own interests” (207). It is important to remember, of course, that Rockefeller regarded the assimilation of competitive rivals as an end in itself; profits would follow as a natural consequence. This was key to the creative side of Rockefeller’s approach. He would purchase and absorb refineries, or purchase and dismantle them if they were unprofitable. Either way, external competition disappeared while “Standard Oil remained a confederation” (229) of companies working toward the same end under the same leadership.

Chernow shows that this consolidation-minded philosophy guided Rockefeller throughout his career and in every aspect of it. After Congress passed the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890, Rockefeller “remained an unreconstructed believer in trusts” (298). With the help of Frederick T. Gates, Rockefeller “transposed to philanthropy the same principle of consolidation that had worked so well for him in business” (309). When Rockefeller and the great Wall Street financier J.P. Morgan first met, “they took an instant dislike to each other,” and yet they managed to strike deals because “both men detested competition as a destructive force, a dangerously antiquated notion” (390). Indeed, by the beginning of the 20th century “virtually all American industrialists were converts to the doctrine of cooperation preached by Rockefeller” (432). So strong was this pro-consolidation consensus, forged by Rockefeller and extended across other industries, that Standard Oil officials stonewalled or ignored government trustbusters: The “oil monopolists mocked the petty efforts of politicians to obstruct them” (520). Even in his memoirs, published long after the 1911 US Supreme Court decision that dissolved Standard Oil, Rockefeller “reiterated his faith that cooperation, not competition, advanced the general welfare” (533).

The Spiritual and the Material

The conjunction “and” is crucial to this theme’s title, for Rockefeller never saw any tension between the Christian principles he espoused and the methods he used to amass his great fortune. In fact, Rockefeller regarded his pursuit of wealth as a religious duty, and he interpreted his great success as a sign of God’s favor.

Chernow traces these beliefs to Rockefeller’s coming of age during the intense religious revivals of the Second Great Awakening, arguing that “the saga of his monumental business feats is inseparable from the fire-and-brimstone atmosphere that engulfed upstate New York in his childhood” (18). Rockefeller’s Baptist fundamentalism “seemed to applaud him in his course, and he very much embodied the sometimes uneasy symbiosis between church and business that defined the emerging ethos of the post-Civil War American economy” (54).

For instance, a wholly secular description of Rockefeller’s career might assert, without bias, that Rockefeller made his fortune by purchasing and refining a commodity that others extracted from the ground, and then gaining control of the means by which his product was transported, stored, and marketed. Rockefeller, however, saw these events through a “rose-tinted spiritual lens,” convinced “that God had given kerosene to suffering mankind,” which allowed him to “persist where less confident men stumbled and faltered” (76). This lifelong conviction that he was doing God’s will helps explain why Rockefeller “refused to believe that anyone could have a legitimate objection to Standard Oil” (426).

Rockefeller’s aversion to ostentation of any kind makes his pious professions appear largely sincere. Outside the Standard Oil offices, he wanted only to spend time at church and home with his family where, “walled off from temptation, Rockefeller was virtually untouched by the decadence of the Gilded Age” (121). Indeed, what made Rockefeller so different “from his fellow moguls was that he wanted to be both rich and virtuous and claim divine sanction for his actions” (152). In Rockefeller’s life, religion provided “sustenance” and “a necessary complement to his buttoned-up business life” (189). Philanthropy was faith in action. Chernow argues that skeptics who accused Rockefeller of giving away his money merely to sanitize it or improve his self-image miss the fact that “Rockefeller was fantastically charitable from boyhood” (50). Furthermore, as he got older and his fortune swelled, he embraced the social gospel and felt the “need to prove that rich businessmen could honorably discharge the burden of wealth” (468).

Nonetheless, Chernow acknowledges that certain aspects of Rockefeller’s faith do provide fodder for skepticism. For instance, much like his Puritan ancestors, Rockefeller gave little thought to the widening gap between rich and poor “because it formed part of the divine plan” (191). Likewise, his claim to be doing God’s work in the oil industry often rings hollow, for he “never had a single motive for any action and was surely motivated by more than altruism in championing cheap kerosene” (257). Indeed, competition might have its deficiencies, but the ability to provide consumers with the best prices is not one of them. Well into retirement, while reviewing statistical analyses of Standard Oil dividends, Rockefeller admitted that he “had not kept prices low out of altruism but to deter competition,” which “belied his frequent claim that his motive was to bequeath cheap oil to the working people” (546).

The Transformation of John D. Rockefeller

During his lifetime, Rockefeller saw his public reputation plummet to uncomfortable depths before rising by the end to unexpected heights. By the late-19th century, “it seemed as if half the country wanted to lynch” the Standard Oil titan, “while the other half only wanted to cadge a loan from him” (299). His name inspired loathing. After the Tarbell exposé The History of Standard Oil (1904), Rockefeller built “a forbidding iron fence” at Forest Hill, “hired Pinkerton detectives,” and “kept a revolver on his bedside table” (501). By the time he died more than three decades later, however, many people had come to associate the Rockefeller name with unparalleled benevolence.

His early reputation as an industrial pirate notwithstanding, Rockefeller “was fantastically charitable from boyhood” (50)—at age 20, he gave away more than 10% of his income. This behavior persisted, and as his wealth increased, he gave away more substantial sums designed to do the greatest possible good. His first major contribution came in 1882 when he donated to the Atlanta Baptist Female Seminary, Georgia’s only institution of higher learning “for young black women—many of them born under slavery and still illiterate” (239). The school was renamed “Spelman Seminary” in honor of his wife’s family. Ten years later, Rockefeller made another mark on higher education when he founded the University of Chicago. As he looked toward retirement from Standard Oil, “the focus of his life shifted slowly from earning money to dispensing it as intelligently as possible” (323).

Devastated by the death of his four-year-old grandson in 1901, grieved by the illnesses of Cettie and his daughters, and frightened by his own mortality, Rockefeller, bolstered by the advice and leadership of Frederick T. Gates, decided to focus his philanthropy on medicine. This decision enabled Rockefeller’s transformation in the public mind from cutthroat businessman to generous humanitarian, in large part because the philanthropy was so successful. After the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research funded multiple breakthroughs, “Rockefeller and his entourage were delighted, perhaps even mildly surprised, by the unalloyed praise heaped upon the RIMR” (478). Before he was finished, Rockefeller “had established himself as the greatest lay benefactor of medicine in history,” who had “effected a revolution in philanthropy perhaps no less far-reaching than his business innovations” (570).

As he moved deeper into retirement, and as the distance from his Standard Oil days grew wider, Rockefeller’s transformation continued. At his home in Ormond Beach, Florida, he welcomed visitors and appeared relaxed, for he “was fast becoming a beloved old storybook figure, a certified American character, and his more cheerful mood reflected that” (612). By the late 1920s, the long-retired and suddenly-playful Rockefeller gravitated toward the movie camera, and audiences “found something endearing about this anachronistic old gentleman who had graduated to the status of an American legend,” in large part because “the public now associated him far more with philanthropy than with Standard Oil” (636). During the Great Depression, when Junior was considering a name for the brand-new office complex he built in midtown Manhattan, advisers “convinced him that ‘Rockefeller Center’ would be the most potent marketing tool—an indication of how far the family image had advanced since the days of the muckrakers” (668-69).

Fathers and Sons

Chernow builds the book’s early chapters around Rockefeller’s colorful, duplicitous father, Bill, whereas Junior, Rockefeller’s nervous and dutiful son, figures prominently in the second half of the book. This allows Chernow to explore Rockefeller’s role on both ends of the father-son dynamic.

Rockefeller spent most of his life trying to be everything his father was not: respectable, dignified, and present. Chernow regards Rockefeller’s “shame about his father” as “consequential for his entire development” (29). Rockefeller embraced Baptist teachings about fortitude and tried to mimic his mother’s silent resilience, in part because “after the inordinate attention that his father attracted, John wanted to be quiet and inconspicuous and blend into the crowd” (34). After his father abandoned Eliza and the children in the early 1850s, the teenage Rockefeller referred to his mother as “widowed” (41). In fact, Bill’s abandonment probably prevented young Rockefeller—the family’s lone source of income at age 21—from enlisting in the Union Army during the Civil War.

Rockefeller’s determination to be a better man than his father intensified once he had a family of his own. At home in Cleveland in the 1870s, this “son of a self-absorbed absentee father” always “made a point of being an affectionate parent and something of a homebody” (123). When Bill periodically and unexpectedly reappeared in Cleveland, Rockefeller still “resented his father,” but he allowed Bill to have a grandfatherly relationship with his young family and “didn’t poison the children’s minds against him,” though Rockefeller himself “kept studiously aloof” (193). After Bill died, Rockefeller did not return the body to Cleveland, so Bill’s unknowingly-bigamist wife, Margaret Allen Levingston, buried her late husband at the Oakland Cemetery in Freeport, Illinois. Chernow notes that “[f]ew—if any—Rockefeller descendants seem to know that William Avery Rockefeller is buried there under his assumed name” (463)—a sign of Rockefeller’s success in banishing his father from his family’s memories.

Chernow occasionally describes other men in Rockefeller’s life as reminiscent of Bill’s ebullience. For transitional purposes, the most interesting of these is John D. Archbold, Rockefeller’s successor at Standard Oil. Chernow describes Archbold as “the most significant figure recruited by Rockefeller,” a “cocky” self-promoter with “high spirits,” an “inexhaustible fountain of jokes and stories,” and “the man at Standard Oil who most resembled Big Bill” (165). It seems a matter of great psychological significance that Rockefeller chose a man like his father to execute some of Standard Oil’s most unsavory schemes. Furthermore, Chernow also describes Archbold as the immediate cause of Junior’s eventual discomfort at Standard Oil, and yet “Junior’s disenchantment with Archbold did not diminish his reverence for his father” (551).

Whereas Rockefeller did everything in his power to distance himself from Bill, Junior spent much of his young life trying to please his father and holding him in high esteem. Raised by pious parents in a Baptist home, this “model child would struggle to become the model adult, with often painful consequences” (189). As a young adult, Junior often saw himself as falling short of his father’s immense stature and thus “often brooded about his own inadequacy” (356). Still, there is no evidence that Junior resented his father and plenty of evidence that he both respected and admired the titan. Though Rockefeller never gushed compliments, he did make clear that the feeling was mutual, remarking, “My greatest fortune in life has been my son” (511). Chernow also suggests that Rockefeller “was increasingly buoyed by the admiration of this son who viewed him as a heroic figure in business and philanthropy” (624).

Much like Rockefeller, however, Junior had to find his own way, which meant subtle deviations from his father’s approach. During the Colorado Fuel and Iron labor crisis, for instance, Junior discovered that he had to “depart from his father’s legacy and chart an independent course” (582) by promoting labor-management cooperation. In this area in particular, Junior “repudiated his father’s principles without seeming to repudiate the man” (587). Even in philanthropy, Junior gravitated toward a “conservationist” approach in history and art that “was quite different from the forward-looking, scientific spirit that his father had exhibited in medical research and education” (643). As his son became more independent, just as he had become independent from Bill, Rockefeller seemed to grow more proud.

The Plight of the Rockefeller Women

When he died in 1937, Rockefeller was laid to rest in a burial plot between his mother Eliza and his wife Cettie. His son Junior “grew up in largely female surroundings” (188), doted on by a mother, two grandmothers, and three older sisters. The Rockefeller women exerted tremendous influence on both Senior and Junior, while at the same time living with sometimes severe physical and mental health constraints.

Senior’s mother, Eliza Davison Rockefeller, always maintained a “stern respectability” (26) in the face of her husband Bill’s monstrous duplicity. Rockefeller adored her, in part perhaps because she bore her trials with a quiet dignity that he always tried to emulate. Cettie, on the other hand, first appeared in Rockefeller’s life as a confident and intellectually-curious young woman, a valedictorian in high school who wrote essays denouncing aristocracies and had delivered a commencement address, “I Can Paddle My Own Canoe,” which Chernow describes as “a ringing manifesto of female emancipation” (91). After high school, Cettie worked as a teacher. Hailing from a family of temperance advocates, abolitionists, and Christian evangelicals, Cettie became “fiercely democratic,” and her sober disposition, coupled with her intense piety, meant that Rockefeller “had found a woman with his mother’s gentle tenacity and religiosity” (127).

There seems little doubt that Cettie quit her teaching job after her marriage to appease 19th-century social conventions. In later years, “she lost much of her intellectual brightness as she made the transition from teacher to pedagogical mother, relentlessly molding her children” (127). Cettie was always a “sweet, good-natured woman,” but as a Baptist wife and mother she also “had a strong didactic side that could verge on fanaticism” (188).

Chernow admits that when trying to make sense of Rockefeller’s life “the most exasperating lacuna in his story is Cettie’s transformation from a bright, witty girl into a rather humorless woman, prone to nun-like religiosity,” leaving biographers and readers alike to wonder “what happened to the high-spirited, vivacious young woman who was the high-school valedictorian and literary editor and Oread Collegiate Institute” (233). Declining mental health certainly had something to do with it. By the 1890s, in fact, “Cettie suffered from so many strange symptoms and vague ailments as to defy precise medical diagnosis” (409). One also suspects that Rockefeller’s skewering at the hands of Ida Tarbell made things much worse, for in those years “Cettie was so rattled by a sense of menace that she advised him to stop public speaking altogether” (501).

Much like Junior, who had more outlets for his nervous tension, two of Cettie’s three daughters appear to have inherited their mother’s mental health problems. From what little is known of Bessie based on surviving letters, the Rockefellers’ oldest daughter—the only one who attended college—was “smart and tenacious,” a “lively, appealing young woman” (304). In 1903, however, a few “cryptic references to Bessie’s illness in the press” occasioned the “cover story” that she was retiring from society, although in reality, her illness, a “stroke or heart condition,” left her physically incapacitated; moreover, the family “always suppressed the fact that it affected her mind,” as she “started to babble in child-like French,” leaving one observer “thunderstruck by Bessie’s condition” (413). Bessie died three years later at the age of 40.

One wonders if the family’s reluctance to publicize the nature of Bessie’s condition played a role in Edith Rockefeller McCormick’s decision to seek therapy from the famous Swiss psychiatrist Dr. Carl Jung and then to spread awareness of psychoanalysis to anyone who would listen. Edith “was beset by nervous troubles throughout her life,” and these “led her on an odyssey of sustained introspection unique in Rockefeller annals” (414). In a span of three years, between 1901 and 1904, Edith and her husband Harold McCormick suffered the deaths of two of their children, four-year-old Jack and one-year-old Editha. In her grief, Edith became a recluse, “incapacitated by a terrifying agoraphobia” (597).

In April 1913, Edith sailed for Switzerland, where she “spent years under Jung’s spell” (598). Whether Jung intended it or not, “Edith saw in Jungian psychology a mystic path as well as a therapeutic method” (602). In her desperation to find relief from her torment, Edith in some ways became “a dreamer caught up in the cultlike atmosphere of Jung’s practice,” but she was also a “pioneer” among Rockefellers, “the first to peer into the mysteries of human nature and confront social inhibitions and moral restraints that had long been held sacrosanct by the family” (603). This journey into Jungian psychoanalysis only widened the emotional gap between Edith and her father, who simply was not built to understand such things.

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