What Went Wrong: The Beautiful Machine

Ribicoff was happy to introduce the inventive Sosin to the ambitious Greenberg, and let them figure out whether they could do business together. But he warned Sosin that any partnership, no matter how productive, can sour. "I'll only call Greenberg if you let us plan your divorce while we're planning your marriage," Sosin remembers Ribicoff saying.

Sosin came to the negotiation with conditions. He wanted the kind of autonomy that Greenberg rarely granted. Greenberg wanted assurances that Sosin's venture would do nothing to harm the gold-plated rating he had spent two decades building.

Greenberg had little extra time for the nuts-and-bolts details that Sosin sought to negotiate. "I don't really know much about this," he told Matthews. "You go talk to these people."

The morning after AIG and Sosin signed their joint venture agreement, Jan. 27, 1987, word spread rapidly through Drexel's trading floor in lower Manhattan: Sosin, Rackson and Goldman were leaving. Discreetly, the three men had invited some of their colleagues to a recruitment meeting. Ten eventually signed up for the ride.

Michael Milken, the junk-bond king who was Drexel's star trader, tried to stop the breakaways. But the pull of innovation, and the promise of even greater pay, was too strong.

At Drexel, Sosin, Rackson and their band of brainy followers didn't have much say in how bonuses were doled out. At Financial Products, they would keep 38 percent of the profits, with Greenberg and AIG getting 62 percent. (Greenberg remembers AIG's share as 65 percent.)

Their revolution began with a whisper. They set up shop in a windowless, makeshift room at an accounting firm on Third Avenue. Until the rental furniture arrived, they sat on cardboard boxes. When it finally showed up, someone had made a mistake and so for a short time, they perched on children's chairs and worked at tiny tables. When Matthews escorted Greenberg there for a visit, the chief executive chewed him out. "You can't have them in such terrible quarters," Greenberg said.

Sosin and Rackson hoped that everyone would get rich, but they had their sights set on something more. They wanted to tear down walls they saw as impediments to innovation, the "fiefdoms" that were standard practice at other Wall Street firms. Their vision required a collaborative culture and a computer system that no one else had. For six months, the group worked on constructing "the position analysis and storage system," or PASS. They called it simply "the system."

It enabled Financial Products to bring a rare discipline to complex trades. By maintaining market, accounting and transaction details in one place, Sosin and his people could track the constantly changing value of a trade's components in a way no other firm could.

Put more simply, they could see opportunities in the marketplace for taking on risk that others couldn't, squeeze out profits where no one had before and protect themselves in the process.

They exploited the developing realm of derivatives, financial jargon for a contract settling in the future that is based on something trading now. A futures contract is a common derivative: A farmer might agree to sell wheat next spring for a price set today. If the price goes up, the farmer misses out on greater profits; if it goes down, the farmer is protected against loss. Essentially, the contract guarantees enough money to keep the farm going.

For its clients, Financial Products found ways to create more lucrative and longer-term derivative deals tied to all sorts of underlying assets, neutralizing the constant gyrations of prices in stocks, currencies and commodities. Behind each transaction was the cushion of AIG's AAA rating.