‘Go Woke, Go Broke’ Review: The Worst Investments
Charles Gasparino of Fox Business excoriates the progressive pieties that dominate the modern boardroom.
4 min
Charles Gasparino is a gladiatorial journalist. When he steps into the arena to fight a money-man or enterprise that he believes is anticapitalist or crooked, he can be brutal. Making an enemy of him is not for the faint-hearted: Watch him trade insults with his critics on social media. He was once a Wall Street reporter for this newspaper, where editors and colleagues remember him for his no-holds-barred style. Which is precisely how we’d describe the approach in “Go Woke, Go Broke,” Mr. Gasparino’s blistering account of “how corporate America became something close to a foot soldier in the progressive movement.” Now a senior correspondent at the Fox Business Network, Mr. Gasparino is also a columnist at the New York Post, whose irreverent, indignant (and often irresistible) tabloid style is very much in evidence here. (Fox, the Post and the Journal share common ownership.)
“Go Woke, Go Broke” is a takedown of “corporate wokeness,” which Mr. Gasparino describes as the “noxious ideology of progressive politics in the boardroom”—an ideology, he says, that “needs to die a thousand deaths.” The book can be seen as a demotic complement to “Woke, Inc.” (2021), by the brainy (and sometimes tiresome) former Republican presidential contender Vivek Ramaswamy. Mr. Gasparino’s is the better book for its plainspokenness: Many more Middle Americans—whose jobs have been outsourced or have been imperiled by the high-minded dictates of “diversity”—will grasp its message. These are the people who, Mr. Gasparino argues, have been shafted by the Wall Street “fat cats” who’ve grown “much fatter” by their “feeding at the ESG trough.”
ESG stands for “environmental, social, and governance”—metrics intended to direct or funnel investment in an ostensibly socially responsible direction. Mr. Gasparino is a populist-capitalist, and ESG is his bête noire, along with “diversity, equity, and inclusion” (DEI). These “leftist shibboleths” have, the author says, “warped” American business practices for nearly two decades and grew in intensity under the second Obama administration.
Mr. Gasparino traces the roots of ESG to the 1980s and ’90s, when business leaders began embracing so-called corporate social responsibility (or CSR, in its now archaic abbreviation). CSR, in time, evolved into bien-pensant notions of stakeholder capitalism, championed by the likes of Klaus Schwab, the founder of the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. Davos Man, writes Mr. Gasparino, “represents the ultimate marriage of the progressive globalist corporate citizen with the globalist progressive regulatory bureaucrat.”
All this performatively moral investing is a revolt against Milton Friedman, the economist who in 1970 stated that “the social responsibility of business is to increase its profits.” Friedman, writes Mr. Gasparino, would have hated ESG and DEI, “among the most heinously anti-American management philosophies ever developed.” (Readers of Mr. Gasparino’s robust book will realize pretty quickly that nuance is for wimps.)
Basing his book largely on a host of interviews with “company insiders,” Mr. Gasparino gives us entertaining (and informative) accounts of corporate blunders in the name of wokeness. He reminds us of the time AB InBev—the holding company for Anheuser-Busch and its beer, Budweiser—thought it would be a great idea to use a “transwoman influencer” named Dylan Mulvaney to market its top-selling Bud Light. Middle America revolted and stopped buying the beer, heretofore branded as a manly beverage. Mr. Gasparino also recounts how the discount retailer Target was punished by consumers for promoting “tuck-friendly bathing suits for men transitioning to women” alongside rainbow-colored onesies for toddlers. And Disney, recalls the author, erred politically and financially when its chief executive, Bob Chapek, embarked on a bruising battle with Florida’s Gov. Ron DeSantis and challenged the validity of a state law barring public schools from teaching sexual education to children before the fourth grade. In each case, the company’s stock price tanked and sales plummeted.
It enrages Mr. Gasparino that America’s corporate management luxuriates “in progressive causes as a side hustle.” But in some cases, he tells us, these causes are the main course. Among the villains trying to ram ESG down our throats are Larry Fink, the CEO of BlackRock; Jamie Dimon, the CEO of JPMorgan Chase; David Solomon, the CEO of Goldman Sachs; and the “ESG-obsessed” Gary Gensler, President Biden’s chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, whom Mr. Gasparino describes as “a male version” of Sen. Elizabeth Warren, “among the most woke, annoying, and . . . dangerous bureaucrats in government.” Add to the list Adena Friedman, the CEO of Nasdaq, which demands that companies seeking to list on its exchange disclose board-level diversity statistics and, if the need arises, explain why they don’t have a diversity of directors. Such demands aren’t, of course, slapped on Chinese companies, which are, Mr. Gasparino points out, curiously exempt from all the wokest rules. When was the last time a Chinese company was asked why it didn’t have a Uyghur on its board, or an LGBTQ+ person?
Attacking Larry Fink as “Mr. ESG,” says Mr. Gasparino, has become “a rallying cry on the populist right,” whose backlash against corporate wokeness has been so fierce that even BlackRock has started to dismount from its moral high horse. Consumers’ Research, a conservative advocacy group pushing back against ESG, derides the abbreviation as “elitists, socialists, and grifters,” as well as “erasing savings and growth”—pungent and effective put-downs. More and more investors are aware that ESG-specific funds are expensive and rarely beat the market. In fact, writes Mr. Gasparino, “they’re some of the worst investments,” even as they make it harder to tackle inflation by forcing curbs on fossil fuels. But Middle America appears to have woken up to the perils of ESG and is giving voice to its displeasure. “It’s now their Arab Spring,” says Mr. Gasparino. This may be hyperbolic overreach, even for the crusading Mr. Gasparino, but he’s confident that America’s version of a grassroots people’s revolt will end better than the one in the Middle East. Let’s pray he’s right.
Mr. Varadarajan, a Journal contributor, is a fellow at the American Enterprise Institute and at Columbia University’s Center on Capitalism and Society.
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Can its real-estate market continue to rise amid stock-market turmoil?
7 min
MANALAPAN, FLA.— The Deal-Closer. That’s what real-estate agent Jack Elkins jokingly calls the Hinckley picnic boat he docks on the Intracoastal Waterway in the Florida community of Manalapan.
From the road, many of Manalapan’s mansions are shrouded by plantings and foliage, but they are clearly visible from the water, Elkins explained. A boat ride is often the best way to show properties to the wealthy buyers now flocking to the tiny town.
On a recent afternoon, Elkins cruised down the Intracoastal in the The Deal-Closer, passing mansion after mansion, most with their own docks. “When I was a little kid, almost all of this was jungle,” said Elkins, 46, who spent much of his childhood in the area. “There were foxes and parrots and all these wild animals.”
Manalapan, a roughly 2.4-square-mile town with a population of about 400, is just south of glitzier Palm Beach.
While Manalapan has long drawn moneyed residents such as the singer Billy Joel, it has historically lacked the prestige—and price tags—of Palm Beach. That has changed dramatically over the past five years, however, thanks to a series of major home sales.
In 2022, for example, Oracle billionaire Larry Ellison paid $173 million for a historic Manalapan estate. And David MacNeil, the founder of the automotive-accessories manufacturer WeatherTech, has spent a combined $94 million over the past year on a pair of neighboring sites, with plans to build a megamansion there.
“People like Larry Ellison and David MacNeil, these individuals can afford to buy real estate anywhere in the world,” said local real-estate agent Nick Malinosky of Douglas Elliman . “Manalapan is not a second choice for them. It’s their first choice.”
On South Ocean Boulevard, Manalapan’s most affluent corridor, about 21 homes have traded for more than $20 million each since 2020. At least six have sold for $40 million or more, up from only one in that price range during the previous five years.
In 2021, eBay billionaire Jeffrey Skoll bought an ocean-to-Intracoastal estate for $89.93 million, while Joel’s longtime home sold last year for $42.6 million.
Now, however, it is unclear whether Manalapan’s hot streak can continue. Like luxury markets across the country, the town is contending with stock-market turmoil and the fallout from President Trump’s tariffs.
Like many Manalapan residents, local developer Stewart Satter, who is listing a yet-to-be-built spec home for $285 million, is a Trump supporter. During the 2024 election, Satter flew a giant Trump flag above the site.
But tariffs have “created a tremendous amount of uncertainty at the minimum, and that is not good for business,” Satter said. “It’s not good for real estate. People say, ‘Let’s wait. We’re not going to buy a house, we’re not going to build a house.’”
Hitting the big time
Elkins’ cuddly Native American Indian Dog, Bear, lounged on The Deal-Closer’s blue-and-white-striped seats as the boat zipped along the Intracoastal, passing glassy modern mansions and traditional Mediterranean estates.
To catch a glimpse of Ellison’s roughly 16-acre oceanfront estate, Elkins guided the Hinckley through the Boynton Inlet into the choppy Atlantic, where the sandy beach in front of Ellison’s property was visible.
Known as Gemini, the gargantuan mansion was once owned by the late publishing magnate William B. Ziff Jr., who brought in large plantings and trees from South America for the landscaping.
“When I was a little kid, barges were going by our house with these huge trees,” Elkins recalled.
Ellison has approved plans to add more homes to the estate. He also paid about $277 million last year for Manalapan’s Eau Palm Beach Resort & Spa, home to the members-only La Coquille Club, and talk is rife about how Ellison might upgrade the property. Ellison didn’t respond to requests for comment.
It’s a strange feeling, Elkins said, to see Manalapan hit the big time.
Before Covid, the town was often confused with its namesake: Manalapan, N.J. Tiny compared with Palm Beach, Manalapan developed much more slowly than its famous neighbour. It lacks the commercial infrastructure of Palm Beach, and its low-density zoning has kept it largely free of major condos or resorts.
When Satter, the developer, bought four empty lots in Manalapan in 2005, parts of the town looked like “just a mess of woods,” said his wife, Susan Satter. “I said, ‘Is this really how we want to invest our money?’”
Over the next decade, her husband built spec homes on three of the lots and sold them for a significant profit. He kept one, building a mansion there for himself and his wife.
“I thought I’d discovered a really special place,” said Stewart, who tested products for Walmart before turning to spec-home development. “If I had known what was going to happen, obviously, in the rear view mirror, I would have bought the whole town.”
The buyers of Satter’s projects include Ron and Cindy McMackin, who paid roughly $39 million in 2020 for a roughly 15,500-square-foot waterfront house with six bedrooms, then expanded it.
The couple, founders of the mechanical subcontracting company Pan-Pacific Mechanical, had relocated from Hawaii to South Florida during COVID.
“We knew nothing about Manalapan when we moved here,” said Ron, 78. He and Cindy were in the process of moving into a Palm Beach property they owned when their real-estate agent, Lawrence Moens , called. The actor Sylvester Stallone was searching for a home amid the Covid-induced real-estate frenzy, and wanted to see their house.
Before they knew it, they had agreed to sell to the “Rocky” star for $35.375 million, 33% more than the $26.65 million they had paid two years earlier.
This left them without a house. It was slim pickings in Palm Beach, and with five children, they needed plenty of space. Moens suggested Manalapan. At the time, the less-flashy choice was surprising to some of their Palm Beach friends. “I did hear a couple of times from people after that, ‘Why would Lawrence take the McMackins to Manalapan?’” said Ron.
But the McMackins love that it is quieter than Palm Beach, with less traffic. The couple have Sunday dinners with their neighbours, and Cindy has a small group of girlfriends who call themselves the “Manalapan mafia.” The McMackins like it so much that they are building a new, larger home along the same stretch.
Food-service entrepreneur Bob Carlucci and his wife, Aileen Carlucci, paid $11.63 million in 2020 for a roughly 13,000-square-foot Manalapan mansion on the Intracoastal, with a small beach house on the ocean. They are happy to have “discovered Manalapan early, ” Bob said.
Many buyers are tearing down older homes to build new mansions, Malinosky said. Before COVID, Manalapan was seen as more of a vacation destination, so buyers weren’t as choosy. Now that many are seeking full-time homes, however, “they want to make sure that it has the spa, it’s got the 12-car garage, it’s got the fitness centre, it’s got the wellness centre.”
Another prized amenity is a tunnel that runs underneath Highway A1A. Portions of the town are on a barrier island, and some homes sit on the ocean, requiring residents to cross the busy road to reach their docks on the Intracoastal.
Other estates are on the Intracoastal but have small beachhouses on the ocean. A tunnel allows residents to easily go from one side to the other.
Construction of these tunnels has become a rare point of contention between residents. In January, one couple asked the town commission to stop their neighbors from digging under the highway during the tourist season, claiming it was causing traffic to back up.
Building on the coast comes with challenges. Florida building code now requires roofs, windows and doors in high-risk areas to withstand winds of up to 170 miles an hour, according to builder Robert Burrage, who is building MacNeil’s home and four others in Manalapan.
Satter said the property insurance on his personal residence in Manalapan doesn’t include coverage for hurricane damage because it was too expensive. In addition to the annual premium, which was about $150,000 a year, he would have faced a deductible on hurricane damage of about 10% of the assessed value of the house.
He isn’t concerned with rising sea-levels, however. “When I bought my first oceanfront lot, my late father-in-law said, ‘What the hell are you doing? Don’t you know about global warming?’” Satter said. “I sold it at a huge number [in 2016] and made a lot of money. It’s been sold again and again and again—and the water hasn’t done anything.”
Stock market slide
Manalapan’s proximity to Mar-a-Lago has added to its popularity since Trump’s election to a second term, Malinosky said. Many residents support Trump. In the McMackins’ home, a bedazzled MAGA purse hangs in Cindy’s closet and a photo book in the living room shows her attending a Trump event at Mar-a-Lago, where they are members.
But the trade war and stock-market volatility have injected uncertainty into the real-estate market.
Until recently, Hamptons home builder Joe Farrell was considering paying more than $30 million for a building site in Manalapan, he said. He has decided to hold off on any acquisitions for now, however, because of the tariffs and resulting stock-market fallout.
“The market seems to still be pretty good, but people are maybe a little more cautious about parting ways with liquidity,” Farrell said. “I want to see things stabilize before I commit to that kind of capital outlay.”
Elkins said one of his clients considered backing out of a $10 million deal over the last few weeks on Point Manalapan, but decided to move ahead to avoid forfeiting the deposit.
Malinosky said he still sees significant demand for big-ticket properties in Manalapan, especially since many wealthy people are taking money out of the stock market. He said he has closed more than $150 million in deals in the greater Palm Beach area over the past two weeks.
Even with the uncertainty, “there is no shortage of buyers that will spend $100 million right now in Manalapan,” he said.
Shelly Newman, an agent with the Corcoran Group, said she recently sold a piece of land to a spec-home developer for $25 million. And the McMackins are moving ahead with plans to complete their new house, though tariffs have been “the talk of the town,” Ron said.
“I do have a stock portfolio and it is down,” he said. “But I don’t let that affect what I’m doing. We’re very fortunate with resources.”
While Satter agrees with efforts to bring manufacturing back to the U.S., he said he has been blindsided by the extent of the trade war. “I’m not sure about how they’re rolling it out,” he said.
A handful of potential buyers have expressed interest in his $285 million listing, he said, but he realizes the prospective buyer pool is tiny. “There are going to be three or four people who ultimately show real interest and have the capacity to pull the trigger,” he said.
Ultimately, he said he isn’t too worried about the prospects for sale, since he can afford to sit on the property long-term.
Still, real-estate agents said Satter’s property and others may be priced too aggressively, even without tariffs.
British hedge-fund billionaire Chris Rokos is listing his 3-acre Manalapan estate for $150 million, more than triple what he paid for it in 2017. And real-estate investor Vivian Dimond recently cut the price of a Manalapan home by $14.5 million, to $64.5 million. It’s been on the market since September 2024.
For some Manalapan residents, home values are beside the point. Bob and Aileen Carlucci, for example, have no intention of moving.
“We look at each other and we say. ‘This is it,’” Bob said. “You can’t get anything better, we don’t believe—in this country, at least.”
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