At General Motors, executives originally cultivated distinct personalities for its Chevrolet, Oldsmobile, Pontiac, Buick, GMC, and Cadillac divisions. But those divisions began to blur into one in the 1970s. In the 1990s, General Motors bleached from Saturn (a GM startup) and Saab (an acquisition) their distinctive, desirable qualities.At GM, the least successful divisions have often found it easier-at least politically-to compete against their corporate brothers instead of the real competition (Ford, Chrysler, Toyota, et al.). If Chevy had a successful SUV, Buick wanted an SUV. If Chevy had a successful two-seater sports car, Pontiac wanted one, and so did Saturn. If Buick succeeded in selling luxury, the other divisions demanded luxury vehicles. By indulging its divisions, General Motors encouraged them to steal market share from one another rather than to go after the other car companies' markets.
Historians often date the start of the decline of the Roman Empire to Hadrian's Wall in England, beyond which barbarous Scottish warriors lay. Rather than fight them, the Empire chose to block them out, to pretend, basically, that they didn't exist. It was the first time in the history of Rome that its leadership willingly ceded the chance to expand and take more territory, to refuse to make the investment of coin and solider and prestige needed to keep growing to the natural borders of the ocean, where, had it gone, it might've found not just the Irish and the Vikings, but, in time, the New World.What do they have in common? They're both reactions to Conde Nast's decision to shutter Gourmet and three other titles yesterday. As everyone continues to sift through the remains, let's look back at a happier era, when Gourmet editor Ruth Reichl was still the dining critic of the New York Times. Here's an absolutely delightful interview conducted by Dwight Garner-who would later move from Salon to the Times book section-in 1996, when the big controversy of the age was whether or not Asian restaurants deserved three stars. Reichl is a quote machine, so it's difficult to pull out just one, but let's try this:
I found myself last week in the office, looking at the Williams-Sonoma food catalog. You can buy lamb – it's fabulous lamb, organic, summer field lamb – but it's three pounds of a rack of lamb for $85. Then they had this pasta, eight ounces of dried spaghetti you could order for $8, I think. And I said, you know, this has really gotten out of hand. It could be that I just read this book about the French Revolution – the excesses of this, you know, the idea that we're going to pay for this. Somebody just called me, a reporter from another paper, who wants to do a thing about "Bad is back." About restaurants that are serving lots of food, cigars, and so forth. There is something worrisome to me about it. You start thinking about Rome.Yep, it all comes back to Rome.
Related:


Well, that comparison is a bit of a stretch ... let's table this discussion until vomitoriums start sprouting up on the upper east side.
Are you implying the Pontiac Sunbird was NOT a popular car?
When you're going to get as specific in your Rome/America comparison as the True Slant writer is, you should probably try harder to be accurate.
Ugh, please people, if you're going to make "decline of Rome" analogies, make them TRUE. For instance, this:
"It was the first time in the history of Rome that its leadership willingly ceded the chance to expand and take more territory, to refuse to make the investment of coin and solider and prestige needed to keep growing to the natural borders of the ocean..."
Is not true on a number of levels, the most obvious of which is that the Romans had tried and failed to push their frontier in Europe to the Elbe more than 100 years earlier. And of course there is the troubling notion that Hadrian's Wall represented the beginning of the end of Rome, when in fact the Empire would tool along in the West for another 300+ years after it was built.
The boring truth is that the borders of the Roman Empire at its height almost everywhere corresponded more or less to the frontiers of the land on which agriculture was possible during that era. (The exception was in the east, where the border was with another organized empire, not random barbarians.) The Romans were good at controlling and taxing settled communities and farmers, and not good at controlling and taxing nomads and semi-nomads. They tried to get around this in Scotland because they thought, hey, this place is an island, would it be that hard to conquer even the nomad-y bits? Turned out it was -- they sent armies up there but there was no towns or kingdoms or whatever that they could "conquer" in the sense that they were used to conquering people -- so they figured, hey, you know, this border is actually pretty short, how 'bout we just build a wall instead.
THANK YOU. Tracing Rome's decline to Hadrian's Wall is patently ridiculous, as is the notion that conquering Scotland, of all places, would have led them to the New World.
A more pertinent comparison would be to the decadence of the Roman Emperors, and the problems with succession.
Which Conde Nast honcho most reminds everyone of Commodus? Or Caracalla? Or my personal fave Elagabalus?
Whoa, Awl commenters are smart, which makes me nervous because what advertiser wants to deal with a community that will NOT be duped?
Elagabalus has also been one of my favorites since 12th grade Latin.
Sadly, even the famously decadent emperors (Caligula, Nero, Elagabalus) lived centuries before the empire fell apart and cannot honestly be blamed for its collapse. It's boring, but perhaps reassures us that the odd terrible president won't be able to destroy America.
Ah, but lousy emperors lead to problems with succession (Year of four Emperors?)which precipitated the mid third century crisis. From Diocletian onward it was a game of let's put Humpty back together again.
THANK YOU! TOTAL BULLSHIT!!! And that "never before did they give up conquering a people part" what about when they pretty much gave up on conquering Germany east of the Rhine in 9 BC.
Historians later traced Gourmet's decline and fall to its increasing reliance on Germanic Helvetica in the late Reichl period, instead of the Roman typefaces of its early glory.
The kitchen slaves do find Bon Appetit much easier to read.
Related: WHAT?
Viva this post and its comment thread!