Tunku Varadarajan

Tunku Varadarajan

Tunku Varadarajan joined New York University Stern School of Business as a Clinical Professor of Business in October 2007. Prior to joining NYU Stern, Professor Varadarajan was an Assistant Managing Editor at The Wall Street Journal. During his tenure there he also served as the editorial features, or op-ed, editor, as well as chief television and media critic. Previously, he worked as an editorial writer for The Times of London, as well as its bureau chief in both Madrid and New York City. He currently serves as a contributing editor at the Financial Times. From 1988 to 1993, Professor Varadarajan was the Levine Memorial Lecturer in Law at Trinity College, Oxford University. Additionally, he has taught as an adjunct professor at the Graduate School of Journalism at Columbia University, and is a Distinguished Visiting Fellow at Stanford University's Hoover Institution. Professor Varadarajan has a B.A. in Law, with honors, from Oxford University.

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  • Greg Smith woke up one morning this month, covered from head to toe in icky, slimy Vampire-Squid ink. After 12 years at Goldman Sachs, most recently as executive director and head of U.S. equity derivates in Europe, the Middle East and Africa, he decided he could no longer tolerate the moral turpitude at a place of work that had netted him—oh, at a conservative estimate—some $10 million over a decade. Cleansing himself was the only way to stay pure. So cleanse himself he did, with a cathartic op-ed in The New York Times, in which he announced (before telling his employers) that he was quitting Goldman Sachs—in effect, trading in his impressively lucrative job for 15 minutes of fame.

    Smith’s cri de Coeur is being regarded as something noble—and not merely because of the unusual spectacle of someone walking away from millions. But to this reader, Smith’s jeremiad comes across as cynical and insincere, and Smith himself comes across as little better than a sanctimonious git. He describes the ugly Goldman he now feels compelled to leave as a place that has lost its “spirit of humility,” a place that, once upon a time, “wasn’t just about making money.” Yet Smith worked there for 12 years, in the belly of the beast. Did it take him 12 years to realize that Goldman isn’t a non-profit? You’ve got to love his prelapsarian tone, his contention that this edifice of integrity, so humanitarian when he started 12 years ago, has suddenly turned diabolical, caring only about m—y.

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    2011′s Biggest Losers

    The real flavor of a year is always derived most deliciously from the things that go wrong in high places: not just from the cock-ups, cover-ups, and mendacity, but also from ugly speech or unseemly behavior on the part of those (s)elected to Serve the People (or, at the very least, to do them no harm). Here, in no particular order of ignominy, are a few deserving brickbats.

    Liars of the Year: Pakistan’s ISI for saying they did not know OBL was a stone’s throw from the military academy in Abbottabad.

    Blowhard of the Year: Nicolas Sarkozy, for his berating of the U.K. for not swallowing a Pan-European poison pill.

    Goons of the Year: The Chinese security services for their boorishness toward Ai Weiwei and their roughing up of Christian Bale.

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    I’ve just watched the 14th State of the Union address since I first came to live in America in May 1997. And as I prop my eyelids open with matchsticks in order to write this piece, I am convinced that this has been the most boring address of them all.  (At one point, my son actually leaned over to me on the sofa and said firmly in my ear, “Dad, wake up…”) 

    Yet in truth, even though its voltage was so darn low, this wasn’t the worst presidential speech (by Obama or anyone else) that I’ve heard, by any stretch: A blessed relief it was, at some level, that Obama didn’t seek to soar with every phrase, or to bind us in a spell of words. This was the speech of a chastened, post-rhetorical president—in some ways a weary president. It was certainly the speech of a president wiser than the one who delivered last year’s State of the Union. 

    Continue reading Tunku Varadarajan at The Daily Beast

    Revolutionary World Cups

    An insufferable little windbag by the name of Sepp Blatter—president of FIFA, the governing body of world soccer—has just disclosed to the world that Russia will host the soccer/football World Cup in 2018 and Qatar in 2022. The United States, bidding for the 2022 event, was bounced out, as was England, to many the favorites for 2018.

    The selections, made by 22 men in suits over lunch in Zurich, are provocative—unattractively in the case of Russia, and beguilingly so in the case of Qatar.

    There can be no question that Russia was—for the soccer fan—the least appealing candidate for 2018. Vast, repressive, unwelcoming of foreigners (especially those with dark skin), with an intolerant social culture and a thuggish ruling class, the country is a far cry from the balmy openness that was on offer in the bids from England, Spain/Portugal, and Netherlands/Belgium. I’m betting Vladimir Putin will still be in power in 2018: How could he pass up an opportunity to declare the World Cup open?

    On the plus side: Russia does, of course, have a proud sporting tradition, even if we discount the totalitarian dimension of the Soviet era—and its soccer team has always been a force to reckon with. And it does, now, have the chance to turn itself into a more civilized place.

    Continue reading Tunku Varadarajan at The Daily Beast

    (photo credit: Axel Burhmann)

    Years from now, earnest journalism majors will study an episode set to air on Indian television later today, in which Barkha Dutt, a massively influential but ethically embattled TV news anchor, submits herself to public inquisition by a panel of her peers. Four flinty journalists will grill the anchor on the extent of her relationship with one of India’s most influential (and, some would say, murky) corporate lobbyists, with whom the anchor was clandestinely taped talking about how to get a pliable politician a job in the Indian cabinet—a placement that would have benefitted the lobbyist’s corporate clients to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars. (One assumes that clips of the inquisition will be posted on Ms. Dutt’s NDTV website.)

    Think—and I offer this rough-hewn equivalent only to bring the matter to life for an American readership—of Katie Couric as the anchor, caught on tape talking to the flack for Halliburton, on the subject of getting Halliburton’s preferred candidate the job of defense secretary in the run-up to a major war. And think, then, of an hour-long segment in which Couric sits down with, say, Charles Krauthammer, Fred Hiatt, Ken Auletta, and Katrina vandel Heuvel, and submits herself to on-air questioning on the subject—with the aim of explaining, as Dutt has sought to do, on Twitter, Facebook, and in a press release, how her conversation with the lobbyist was within the bounds of ethically acceptable journalism.

    Continue reading Tunku Vardarajan at The Daily Beast

    Another WikiLeaks whirlwind has hit us. The trick, truly, is to stay grounded and ask a question that newspapers (yes, even The New York Times) don’t easily ask: This is all mighty interesting, and truly, madly juicy, but…should we really be colluding with nihilists who traffic in stolen information?

    There are a few observations that one should make in the face of the latest act by Julian Assange, the prime mover of WikiLeaks, who has just dumped in the laps of four publications—The Times, The Guardian of London, El Pais of Madrid, and Germany’s Der Spiegel—thousands of purloined pages of diplomatic correspondence between United States Embassies across the world and the State Department in Washington. This correspondence was never intended to enter the public domain, and its entry into the public domain may have thrown American diplomacy into a crisis of confidence.

    Continue reading Tunku Varadarajan at The Daily Beast

    To Hell With the Activists

    Lisa Murkowski has at long last taken Alaska’s Senate seat—wresting it from the grasp of Joe Miller, the official Republican candidate who was propelled onto the ballot in the state’s primaries by an energetic heave from the state’s Tea Party activists.

    So: Sarah Palin’s handpicked candidate has been defeated by the state’s handwritten alternative. Conservatives were (and are) inclined to say that Murkowski, the “write-in,” was anything but right on for taking on the Republican Party’s own man. But I’m inclined to disagree vigorously, and to declare my support for the Murkowski Model: Don’t take, lying down, a mugging in the primaries. Don’t retreat; reload. 

    Alaska, like too many other states in the Union, has closed primaries. These frequently low-turnout affairs are susceptible to hijacking by determined voter-activists, who foist on the general electorate candidates that are often far outside the mainstream. For the GOP, this can yield disastrous outcomes: Witness the Senate election in Delaware, and the governor’s race in New York, in both of which the Republican Party ran candidates who were ideologically “pure” (by the application of the crudest shibboleths) and yet utterly unelectable.  (My colleague, John Avlon, crunched some eye-opening primary numbers in a recent piece for the Beast.) 

    Continue reading Tunku Vardarajan at The Daily Beast

    Interview of Bjørn Lomborg

    Bjørn Lomborg is one of the best-known (and most controversial) participants in the global debate on climate change. A professor at the Copenhagen Business School, he founded the Copenhagen Consensus Center, an organization that brings together many of the world’s leading economists to ponder the great environmental and material questions of our time—in particular, the question of whether we are getting our priorities wrong in focusing as obsessively (and expensively) as we do on manmade global warming, instead of on other problems such as clean drinking water, or malaria.

    The author of The Skeptical Environmentalist, a book that catapulted him to fame—and notoriety—in 2001, Lomborg was breezing through New York to publicize his new film, Cool It. (Directed by the skillful Ondi Timoner, it is released this week.) In between his various TV appearances, Lomborg and I had this email exchange.

    Continue reading Tunku Varadarajan’s interview of Bjørn Lomborg at The Daily Beast

    Obama Finds His Footing

    It’s a colossal shame that presidential life has no magic rewind button, for if it did—and we could whirr ourselves back to June 2009—we’d have had Barack Hussein Obama skip Pharaonic old Cairo, city of the ghastly Hosni Mubarak and a tightly coiled hatred of the West, and deliver his first major speech to a Muslim nation in Indonesia…

    …which is where, on Tuesday night, he delivered his second major speech to a Muslim audience, a speech that was sure-footed, unpretentious, sweetly personal (Obama lived in Jakarta when he was a boy), and actually very constructive. It was the speech of a man at home: Gone was the formalized stiltedness of the president before the Indian parliament, as seen only 24 hours ago; and absent entirely was the longwinded, professorial president of our own domestic experience. Instead, we had a man at ease with the air of the archipelago—I loved the way he invoked the names of Java, Aceh, Bali, Papua—and secure in the adulation of a hospitable audience eager to embrace him as one of their own.

    Continue reading Tunku Varadarajan at The Daily Beast

    (photo credit: The White House)