Lights Out: Pride, Delusion, and the Fall of General Electric

by Thomas Gryta

Next came Jeff Bornstein, who many had once thought would be CEO someday. He had been a counterbalance to Immelt and was generally respected by Wall Street. Many in the room felt comforted that he had committed to GE and to helping Flannery navigate the job. Now Bornstein launched into an exhortation: Run the company like you own it. Be the leaders General Electric bred you to be. You should all be accountable for every prediction made and every target missed. “I love this company,” he said. Then he stopped and took a breath, deep and halting. He started up, and stopped again. Jeff Bornstein, the muscled, nicotine-gum-chomping, weightlifting, hard-driving CFO, was . . . crying. The reaction in the room was confused and inconsistent. Some thanked Bornstein for his passion, while others left the bizarre scene wary. If this guy was fighting back tears, something must be seriously wrong. The group shuffled out in shock and confusion. Flannery and Bornstein had hammered away at some of GE’s intractable bad habits, but there had been no bombshells revealed. Still, stress and strain had reduced one of their toughest tough guys to tears. The moment would linger in the minds of GE people for years—a revelation, in retrospect. That was the moment many of them realized GE was taking on water, and that no one knew how bad it was going to get.