| One of the greatest pleasures of my job occurs at the very ripe, and often wholly unpredictable, moment when a piece of news comes across the transom and you just know it’s going to become a leitmotif in the culture—a lingering subplot, an occasional sideshow, a slow murmur, a part of the firmament.
These moments stick with you. To wit: I can largely remember where I was, and what I was doing, when Putin invaded Ukraine, David Zaslav announced his merger with WarnerMedia, Jeff Zucker left CNN, Elon Musk announced his deal for Twitter, Anita Dunn returned to the White House, Bob Iger announced his second coming, and so forth.
I had a similar sensation, more recently, when the activist investor Nelson Peltz signaled that he was preparing to embark on a proxy battle against Iger and Disney. Peltz’s firm, Trian, had amassed a nearly $1 billion stake in the company, and Peltz wanted to join the board. Naturally, he had a few ideas that he wanted to float to management and wanted to ensure his views would be considered.
Sure, this wasn’t news on the caliber of Elon paying $44 billion for Twitter, but it was uniquely interesting in its own way. Peltz, after all, is an old school Gordon Gekko-style, Carl Icahn-inflected hellraiser. As his 35-page manifesto on Disney’s business noted clearly, his three previous proxy battles (at Heinz, in 2006; at DuPont, in 2015; and at Procter & Gamble, in 2017) were rousing successes in the sense that Peltz got what he wanted. Management took his direction and shareholders made money. Perhaps his most extraordinary feat of activism, however, was saved for GE, where Trian used its influence to defenestrate two C.E.O.s., back to back. Jeff Immelt, one of the pair, used to refer to Peltz as “the smiling crocodile.”
The smiling crocodile appeared to have already sunk his teeth into Iger’s predecessor (and successor) Bob Chapek last summer and fall—a blossoming friendship that may have led the board to lose faith in him. Iger, on the other hand, kept the crocodile at arm’s length. He offered C.E.O.-level blow-offs, such as a short perfunctory Zoom and making it clear that he wasn’t going to engage until the finale of a New Zealand yachting expedition.
With a position of around half of a percent of Disney, Peltz doesn’t have the leverage to make outright demands and expect results. But he sure can cause a ton of trouble in the boardroom and create an enormous distraction for a company trying to regain its footing in an industry that finds itself rudderless. A trio of extraordinary pieces offer tremendous insight into this ongoing saga and where it’s headed. First, in The Iger Narrative Meets its Nemesis, Matt Belloni weighs the validity of Peltz’s requests and gauges the reputational impact that hand-to-hand investor combat might have on Iger’s legacy. In Iger’s Full Nelson, Bill Cohan offers a history of Trian’s tactical history, perhaps foreshadowing the scale of the battle ahead. Lastly, in Iger’s $27.5 Billion Hulu Question, Julia Alexander digs into the key demand high atop Trian’s wish list.
This story is evolving, obviously, but its impact will be scattered throughout the culture, and particularly Puck’s power corridors. At this point, you know the refrain, but I believe it to be more true than ever: the Peltz-Iger saga is a story for our time, and precisely the sort of tale you can only truly understand at Puck.
Have a great weekend,
Jon
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