President's Message

President’s Message

by - Thomas Twombly

artist - Daisy Lopez

What My Crystal Ball Tells Me

I have a crystal ball in my office. It doesn’t help me foretell the future, but it does speak to me in some very powerful ways – some humorous, some more philosophical, and some that are both.

Years ago, it very nearly burned my office down. Over time, that sobering memory has taken on a more humorous twist, but every day it also provides me with a reminder to think, to pay careful attention, and to always be mindful of second and third order effects. More on that later…

Originally it sat on my great uncle Giles’s desk. It came into my care in early 2000, shortly after his death, when I flew to Washington DC to help my father pack up his and my great aunt Helen’s belongings, and to prepare their home for sale. Aunt Helen was still living, but she had moved to an assisted living facility. Since she no longer had any close relatives in the area, my father was settling their affairs, and preparing to move her to Austin so she could be close to our family for the remainder of her life.

The moment I saw that crystal ball, I was reminded of the glint of wry, ironic, self-deprecating humor I had seen in Giles’ eyes over the years – a characteristic that stood in stark contrast, and as an intriguing complement, to the intellectual rigor and studied seriousness that defined much of his life, and certainly all his professional life. I chuckled out loud to myself at the time, and I figured it might be a good addition to my own office, and a good touchstone for me personally.

You see, Giles had been a judge. And he hadn’t been just any old judge. When he died at the age of 95, he was the oldest and longest serving active federal judge in the United States. (I wish I could claim we share DNA, because he was a brilliant man, and he remained so throughout his entire life. Sadly, for me anyway, we were related only by marriage, but I’m grateful to have known him for 38 years.)

He had started his career as a patent lawyer – what’s now more frequently referred to as an intellectual property attorney - and in May of 1956 he had been nominated by President Dwight D. Eisenhower to serve as an Associate Judge on The United States Court of Customs and Patent Appeals. He was the first patent attorney to have been appointed to any federal court for more than a hundred years.

He never retired, and he never chose to reduce his judicial workload. He served full-time until his death in 1999, sitting at the absolute forefront of innovation and discovery for 43 years in the most dynamic country in history. To the very end, his wit and his intellect remained razor sharp. His intense curiosity for new knowledge and expanding horizons remained insatiable. In his final days, he was angry at having received a lymphoma diagnosis, because there were so many exciting developments, especially in the burgeoning new field of biotechnology, that he wasn’t going to live to see. What an example.

I was reminded of Giles when Charlie Munger - Warren Buffett’s long-time business partner, friend, and close confidante - died on November 28th at the age of 99. In fact, I had been reminded of Giles many times over the years by Charlie Munger, who had also started his career as a lawyer. They both had a wry, often acerbic wit. Neither suffered fools, or foolish behavior. Both read prodigiously and spent their entire lifetimes learning and growing – eagerly studying the horizon for clues and insights about what the future might bring. And both were humble and understated in their lifestyles.  

Charlie Munger lived in the same modest house for 70 years. Giles was known for keeping his cars for decades, and for always keeping them in tip-top mechanical shape himself, as he also did for every other piece of equipment he ever owned, or ever encountered. (I remember him spending several days one summer painstakingly working on an ancient Victrola that had stood in the back bedroom of my great grandmother’s summer cabin, broken and unused for my entire lifetime, and perhaps for my father’s and grandfather’s lifetimes, too. I still remember the sparkle of victory in his eyes when he got it going.)

So, my crystal ball will never tell me what the economy is going to do in 2024, or in any other future year. It won’t tell me if we’re due for an impending recession, or if instead we’ll see a repeat of the “roaring twenties” brought on by yet another explosion of technological innovation and productivity growth. It won’t offer any comfort at all that I, or anybody else, can accurately and consistently foretell the specific events of any future period. It’s useless for all of that.

But what it does say to me is to remain ever curious; to be humble, but also full of faith that the far horizon will continue to bring wonders that we cannot conceive of right now; to remain engaged, relevant, and excited about the opportunities for new growth and greater understanding as we move forward; to be a good steward of all that’s been entrusted to me; and to continue to invest, in myself and in others, so we can all be productive contributors to that future.

And lastly, it tells me always to pay close attention. And never again to move it near a window and into direct sunlight, as I had done late one Friday afternoon in the fall of 2000 when I was rearranging furniture in my office. Luckily, just before I closed my office door and left for the weekend, I caught the whiff of acrid smoke rising from the smoldering dust jacket of the dictionary next to it on the bookshelf, onto which the sun’s rays had been concentrated like a magnifying glass, and I averted a catastrophe.

Thank you again for your continued confidence and trust.

Thomas G. Twombly

President