Read Online On the Brink by Henry M. Paulson - Free Book Online Page B

First Lady for the last weekend they spent at Camp David, in January 2009.
    My first months were busy and productive. Treasury would no longer take a back seat in administration policy making, waiting for the White House to tell it what to do. Shaping my senior team, I kept Bob Kimmitt as deputy but changed his role. Typically, deputy secretaries run the day-to-day operations of Cabinet departments, but as a longtime CEO, I intended to do that myself. I’d use Bob, who knew Washington cold and had wide experience in diplomacy and foreign affairs, to complement me in those areas. Bob would bring us expertise, sound advice, and a steady hand as the crisis came on. I was also fortunate to inherit a talented undersecretary for terrorism and financial intelligence, Stuart Levey, with whom I worked to cut Iran off from the global financial system.
    The first outside addition to my team was Jim Wilkinson, former senior adviser to Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and a brilliant outside-the-box thinker, as my chief of staff. Then I recruited Bob Steel as undersecretary for domestic finance; a longtime colleague and friend, he had been a vice chairman of Goldman Sachs and left in early 2004, after a 28-year career. It was an absolutely critical appointment given my forebodings and his intimate knowledge of capital markets.
    There was plenty to do. Treasury needed desperately to be modernized. Its technology infrastructure was woefully antiquated. For one critical computer system, we depended on a 1970s mainframe. In another instance, an extraordinary civil servant named Fred Adams had been calculating the interest rates on trillions of dollars in Treasury debt by hand nearly every day for 30 years, including holidays. And he was ready to retire!
    To save money, one of my predecessors had closed the Markets Room, so we lacked the ability to monitor independently and in real time what was happening on Wall Street and around the world. I quickly built a new one on the second floor, with help from Tim Geithner, who loaned us staffers from the New York Fed’s own top-notch team. The Markets Room was my first stop many mornings. During the crisis I came to dread the appearance at my door of New York Fed markets liaison Matt Rutherford, who was on loan to Treasury and would come to deliver market updates. It almost never meant good news.
    I’m a hands-on manager, and I tried to establish a tone and style that ran counter to the formality of most governmental organizations. I insisted on being called Hank, not the customary Mr. Secretary. I returned phone calls quickly and made a point of getting out of the office to see people. Typically, the Treasury secretary had not spent much time with the heads of the various Treasury agencies and bureaus—from the Bureau of the Public Debt to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing—which account for nearly all of the department’s 110,000 employees. But I believed that face-to-face communications would help us avoid mistakes and improve morale. This would prove helpful later when I would need to work closely with people like John Dugan, the comptroller of the currency, whose office oversaw national banks and who reported to me on policy and budget matters. When the crisis struck, I knew I could rely on John’s calmness and sharp judgment.
    To my mind, Treasury secretary is perhaps the best job in the Cabinet: the role embraces both domestic and international matters, and most of the important issues of the country are either economic in nature or have a major economic component. But the Treasury secretary has much less power than the average man or woman in the street might think.
    Treasury itself is primarily a policy-making institution, charged with advising the president on economic and financial matters, promoting a strong economy, and overseeing agencies critical to the financial system, including the Internal Revenue Service and the U.S. Mint. But Treasury has very limited spending