Book Report: “Titan: the Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.”

by Ron Chernow

He was America’s first billionaire, the world’s first business tycoon, and maybe one of Christianity’s worst hypocrites.

I don’t mean to judge. And I might be wrong. (About the hypocrisy, at least. Not the money.) Such is the confusing life and legacy of John D. Rockefeller, the founder of Standard Oil.

Ron Chernow tells the story in “Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.” I read the book not because I really cared about this 19th-century oil tycoon. As of a few weeks ago, all I knew about the man was his name. No, I read it (all 832 pages!) because Chernow’s biographies of Washington and Hamilton floored me, and the fact that he eventually trains his historian’s eye on John D. means there is something here to consider.

And boy there is. I had no idea I could start caring so much about this mogul and his messed-up family.

The story starts with John’s Baptist mother and bigamist father, “Big Bill,” a snake oil salesman whose immoral ways both repel and inspire his son. From the early days John shows similar ambition and business genius, becoming one of the country’s most powerful oil refiners by his 20s. The growth of Standard Oil into the behemoth it became owes to John’s ruthless business prowess. But it is also an interesting historical tale, resulting from a unique constellation of circumstances: the post-Civil War business boom, the discovery of oil and its uses, the expansion of the railroads, and the rapid modernization of American life. And the story of Standard’s breakup at the hands of the federal government—an effort led by Teddy Roosevelt, and decided by the Supreme Court—is suspenseful to the end. (And ironic. Following Standard’s breakup, John remains the largest stockholder in all 30+ companies—including Chevron, Exxon, and Mobil—and eventually becomes three times as rich.)

But more than the business and history, John’s family and faith were the subjects that fascinated me. The most sympathetic character in this period drama is John’s son, Junior. Junior lacked Senior’s confidence and brilliance and spent his entire life eager to please his emotionally absent dad—and suffering major physical ailments as a result of the stress. He eventually finds his place as a philanthropist and the developer of Rockefeller Plaza, but never seems happy. Indeed, John Jr. proved an even worse father than his father was to him. At the end of his life, Sr.’s efforts to reconnect with his children go nowhere. I could hear “Cats in the Cradle” playing in the background, and immediately made plans to go see a movie with my children.

And on the matter of faith, John’s Baptist piety was always his lodestar. Like a good Baptist, he never smoked, drank, or danced. From his earliest days he felt chosen by God to make lots of money to build the kingdom here on earth. And truly he did. He was the first great philanthropist, founding the University of Chicago, Spellman College, eradicating hookworm, and donating hundreds of millions of dollars to education, medical research, and Baptist missions. He set a standard for philanthropy—both in size, scope, and strategy—that is still followed by the Gates and Winfreys of the world.  

But at what cost to his soul?

And here is where the legacy grows murky. With tremendous restraint, Rockefeller endured the relentless criticism of a new era of muckraking journalists who unearthed every scintilla of his improper business practices, exaggerating them in the process. And to be sure, Rockefeller’s behavior bordered on criminal. He brazenly and shamelessly lied and bribed his way to success, like the best of the robber barons. He was a monopolist who believed with religious conviction that competition was to be squelched as inefficient. As he gobbled up competitors he remained blissfully unaware of the real-world consequences of economic churn for the little guy. (His fiercest critic, the journalist Ida Tarbell, watched her own father’s business get steamrolled by the Rockefeller oil machine.) Most horrifically, late in his life Rockefeller ignored the working conditions of his Colorado miners, and the death of 15 women and children who died in a labor clash. He blew off the Ludlow Massacre and left it up to his more sympathetic son to “fix” it.

However philanthropic and brilliant Rockefeller was, he was an expert at skirting laws and ignoring economic turbulence. He justified it by arguing that his capitalism enriched the country and its citizens, advanced modernity, and enabled him to found schools and hospitals. He was wealthy beyond imagination, but did not flaunt it like other magnates of the day. (He lived well but also well below his means.)

He also believed he was executing God’s benevolent plan for his life and the world, and that all’s fair in love, war, and business.

Maybe…but probably not. When it comes to business ethics, I have a simpler view of things. Christians aren’t allowed to lie. The ends don’t justify the means. We need to go out of our way to model integrity. We must remain suspicious of the corrupting allure of wealth, however we might justify its acquisition. As Jesus asks, What does it matter if you gain the world but lose your soul?

And that’s what’s saddest to me about the story of John D. Rockefeller. He was a faithful church-going man who loved children and filled the coffers with his own money, supporting Christian missions, schools, and hospitals. But he seems a sad, lonely man, devoid of friends and alienated from family. Only late in his life when he was free of the moral oversight of his wife Cetti, who died in 1915, did the joy of being alive seem to bubble up from somewhere, a well within his own chest that had not been tapped. In an irony of ironies, this expert oil man who feverishly drilled the land spent the majority of his life ignorant of the eternal reserves buried deep in his own heart.

John had so much. But he could have had so much more. While reading “Titan,” I couldn’t help but think of another rich man with a famous name. While walking through Jericho in Luke 19, Jesus spots an odd little man in a tree, straining to see this would-be Savior pass through town. Jesus calls to him and invites himself over: “Zaccheus, come down. I must stay at your house today.” A wealthy tax collector, Zaccheus surely had a mansion for the times. Over an elegant supper Jesus explains to him the love and call of God. Challenged and inspired, this tax baron at once repents: “Look, Lord! Here and now I give half of my possessions to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody out of anything, I will pay back four times the amount.”

“Today salvation has come to this house,” Jesus replies. “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”

Was Rockefeller’s philanthropy enough to repent of his unsavory business practice, like Zaccheus? God be the judge. But missing from Rockefeller’s life seem to be the radical repentance and intimacy with God that is available to rich and poor alike. Had John D. cared more for the ethics and example of Jesus, he likely would not have been quite as rich, but he would have been true. Maybe he would have even been happy. I can’t help suspecting that if Jesus had seen John D. up in a tree and invited himself over for supper to Rockefeller’s large New York mansion, the mogul would have demurred. He would have found an excuse to avoid the conversation—a board meeting or other business commitment. Maybe after the anti-trust suit blows over, he may have said.

Now by Rockefeller standards, we might not be rich. But the lesson of his life and faith is still available to us all. Jesus still calls to us in a tree. What’s the call? No matter how successful, generous, and hard-working we may be, integrity counts. Happiness counts. Yes, the world needs us to be generous. We have been blessed by capitalism and must share John D.’s philanthropic burden.

But as much as the world needs us to be generous, God wants us to be good.

-MRH 11/21