« The Four Fundamental Questions of Philanthropy | Main | Fear and Loathing in Philanthropy »

March 03, 2007

Comments

Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

Tony Proscio, in one of his jargon books, has this description of stakeholders:

Stakeholders

In most civic and charitable projects, the people with a "stake" in the results are legion. When people try to improve schools or health care or Social Security, who has a "stake" in the results? Answer: All of us - every last woman, man, and child. Half the time, STAKEHOLDERS is a passable substitute for "all the living, and even a few of the dead." As such, in any practical context it is useless noise.

The only explanation for the spectacular success of STAKEHOLDERS in the philanthropic demimonde is that the word sounds tantalizingly like its cousin "stockholders." For those with a painful, gnawing envy of Wall Street and all its blandishments, the desire for stockholders must have the merciless pull of an addiction. (Funny, that: Most actual denizens of Wall Street would be delighted to give their stockholders the heave-ho, as long as they could hold on to the capital.) Among Wall Street wannabes, a word that gives the thrilling feeling of stock without the nuisance of actually paying dividends would naturally be a big hit. For those with a chemical dependence on the gibberish of high finance, STAKEHOLDERS is something like methadone: It eases some of the craving, without inflicting the harmful side-effects of the real thing.

owen paine

wonderful line

"For those with a chemical dependence on the gibberish of high finance, STAKEHOLDERS is something like methadone: It eases some of the craving, without inflicting the harmful side-effects of the real thing"

a stake is a rube's stock
if he turns to a jack ...he'll use it ...err drive
right where it goes

in
lower right box

thru the saurian heart pump
of dragged up
count cheney there

btw
how'd you make him
so ex- blubberous

he's looking marvelous

i'll want you at my death bed

Stuart Johnson

He's the forebear of the handsome Frank Langella Dracula, The Hunger's David Bowie who slashes with his crucifix but gently glides his bow over the antique cello.

The comments to this entry are closed.

Your email address:


Powered by FeedBlitz

Contact Us

  • Email us at: info (at) daylightconsulting (dot) net

Contributors


  • John
    Anger

    Countess
    Apraxina

    Stuart
    Johnson

    Dixie
    Moline

    Albert
    Ruesga

    Sally
    Wilde

Terror Level

Less Recent Posts