Mr. Chair, today I want to highlight a critical issue facing the Intelligence Community: increasing reliance on contractors. A 2010 Washington Post story reported that 30 percent of the workforce in…
Mr. Chair, today I want to highlight a critical issue facing the Intelligence Community: increasing reliance on contractors.
A 2010 Washington Post story reported that 30 percent of the workforce in our intelligence agencies is contractors. Furthermore, the Post estimated that out of 854,000 people with top-secret clearances, 265,000 are contractors. I encourage my colleagues to read this eye opening article.
These startling facts cause me great concern--we've learned the hard way time and time again what happens when we fail to monitor the work of federal contractors. The federal government has the responsibility to maintain its commitment to monitoring their use--with special attention made to the evolving nature of their work and the associated national security risks inherent to outsourcing these tasks. I look forward to working with the Select Committee on Intelligence to achieve this goal.
[From the Washington Post, July 20, 2010]
National Security, Inc.
(By Dana Priest and William M. Arkin)
In June, a stone carver from Manassas chiseled another
perfect star into a marble wall at CIA headquarters, one of
22 for agency workers killed in the global war initiated by
the 2001 terrorist attacks.
The intent of the memorial is to publicly honor the courage
of those who died in the line of duty, but it also conceals a
deeper story about government in the post-9/11 era: Eight of
the 22 were not CIA officers at all. They were private
contractors.
To ensure that the country's most sensitive duties are
carried out only by people loyal above all to the nation's
interest, federal rules say contractors may not perform what
are called ``inherently government functions.'' But they do,
all the time and in every intelligence and counterterrorism
agency, according to a two-year investigation by The
Washington Post.
What started as a temporary fix in response to the
terrorist attacks has turned into a dependency that calls
into question whether the federal workforce includes too many
people obligated to shareholders rather than the public
interest--and whether the government is still in control of
its most sensitive activities. In interviews last week, both
Defense Secretary Robert M. Gates and CIA Director Leon
Panetta said they agreed with such concerns.
The Post investigation uncovered what amounts to an
alternative geography of the United States, a Top Secret
America created since 9/11 that is hidden from public view,
lacking in thorough oversight and so unwieldy that its
effectiveness is impossible to determine.
It is also a system in which contractors are playing an
ever more important role. The Post estimates that out of
854,000 people with top-secret clearances, 265,000 are
contractors. There is no better example of the government's
dependency on them than at the CIA, the one place in
government that exists to do things overseas that no other
U.S. agency is allowed to do.
Private contractors working for the CIA have recruited
spies in Iraq, paid bribes for information in Afghanistan and
protected CIA directors visiting world capitals. Contractors
have helped snatch a suspected extremist off the streets of
Italy, interrogated detainees once held at secret prisons
abroad and watched over defectors holed up in the Washington
suburbs. At Langley headquarters, they analyze terrorist
networks. At the agency's training facility in Virginia, they
are helping mold a new generation of American spies.
Through the federal budget process, the George W. Bush
administration and Congress made it much easier for the CIA
and other agencies involved in counterterrorism to hire more
contractors than civil servants. They did this to limit the
size of the permanent workforce, to hire employees more
quickly than the sluggish federal process allows and because
they thought--wrongly, it turned out--that contractors would
be less expensive.
Nine years later, well into the Obama administration, the
idea that contractors cost less has been repudiated, and the
administration has made some progress toward its goal of
reducing the number of hired hands by 7 percent over two
years. Still, close to 30 percent of the workforce in the
intelligence agencies is contractors.
``For too long, we've depended on contractors to do the
operational work that ought to be done'' by CIA employees,
Panetta said. But replacing them ``doesn't happen overnight.
When you've been dependent on contractors for so long, you
have to build that expertise over time.'' A second concern of
Panetta's: contracting with corporations, whose
responsibility ``is to their shareholders, and that does
present an inherent conflict.''
Or as Gates, who has been in and out of government his
entire life, puts it: ``You want somebody who's really in it
for a career because they're passionate about it and because
they care about the country and not just because of the
money.''
Contractors can offer more money--often twice as much--to
experienced federal employees than the government is allowed
to pay them. And because competition among firms for people
with security clearances is so great, corporations offer such
perks as BMWs and $15,000 signing bonuses, as Raytheon did in
June for software developers with top-level clearances.
The idea that the government would save money on a contract
workforce ``is a false economy,'' said Mark M. Lowenthal, a
former senior CIA official and now president of his own
intelligence training academy.
As companies raid federal agencies of talent, the
government has been left with the youngest intelligence
staffs ever while more experienced employees move into the
private sector. This is true at the CIA, where employees from
114 firms account for roughly a third of the workforce, or
about 10,000 positions. Many of them are temporary hires,
often former military or intelligence agency employees who
left government service to work less and earn more while
drawing a federal pension.
Across the government, such workers are used in every
conceivable way. Contractors kill enemy fighters. They spy on
foreign governments and eavesdrop on terrorist networks. They
help craft war plans. They gather information on local
factions in war zones. They are the historians, the
architects, the recruiters in the nation's most secretive
agencies. They staff watch centers across the Washington
area. They are among the most trusted advisers to the four-
star generals leading the nation's wars.
So great is the government's appetite for private
contractors with top-secret clearances that there are now
more than 300 companies, often nicknamed ``body shops,'' that
specialize in finding candidates, often for a fee that
approaches $50,000 a person, according to those in the
business.
Making it more difficult to replace contractors with
federal employees: The government doesn't know how many are
on the federal payroll. Gates said he wants to reduce the
number of defense contractors by about 13 percent, to pre-9/
11 levels, but he's having a hard time even getting a basic
head count.
``This is a terrible confession,'' he said. ``I can't get a
number on how many contractors work for the Office of the
Secretary of Defense,'' referring to the department's
civilian leadership.
The Post's estimate of 265,000 contractors doing top-secret
work was vetted by several high-ranking intelligence
officials who approved of The Post's methodology. The
newspaper's Top Secret America database includes 1.931
companies that perform work at the top-secret level. More
than a quarter of them--533--came into being after 2001, and
others that already existed have expanded greatly. Most are
thriving even as the rest of the United States struggles with
bankruptcies, unemployment and foreclosures.
The privatization of national security work has been made
possible by a nine-year ``gusher'' of money, as Gates
recently described national security spending since the 9/11
attacks.
With so much money to spend, managers do not always worry
about whether they are spending it effectively.
``Someone says, `Let's do another study,' and because no
one shares information, everyone does their own study,'' said
Elena Mastors, who headed a team studying the al-Qaeda
leadership for the Defense Department. ``It's about how many
studies you can orchestrate, how many people you can fly all
over the place. Everybody's just on a spending spree. We
don't need all these people doing all this stuff.''
Most of these contractors do work that is fundamental to an
agency's core mission. As a result, the government has become
dependent on them in a way few could have foreseen: wartime
temps who have become a permanent cadre.
Just last week, typing ``top secret'' into the search
engine of a major jobs Web site showed 1,951 unfilled
positions in the Washington area, and 19,759 nationwide:
``Target analyst,'' Reston. ``Critical infrastructure
specialist,'' Washington, D.C. ``Joint expeditionary team
member,'' Arlington.
``We could not perform our mission without them. They serve
as our `reserves,' providing flexibility and expertise we
can't acquire,'' said Ronald Sanders, who was chief of human
capital for the Office of the Director of National
Intelligence before retiring in February. ``Once they are on
board, we treat them as if they're a part of the total
force.''
The Post's investigation is based on government documents
and contracts, job descriptions, property records, corporate
and social networking Web sites, additional records, and
hundreds of interviews with intelligence, military and
corporate officials and former officials. Most requested
anonymity either because they are prohibited from speaking
publicly or because, they said,
they feared retaliation at work for describing their
concerns.
The investigation focused on top-secret work because the
amount classified at the secret level is too large to
accurately track. A searchable database of government
organizations and private companies was built entirely on
public records. [For an explanation of the newspaper's
decision making behind this project, please see the Editor's
Note.]
The national security industry sells the military and
intelligence agencies more than just airplanes, ships and
tanks. It sells contractors' brain power. They advise, brief
and work everywhere, including 25 feet under the Pentagon in
a bunker where they can be found alongside military personnel
in battle fatigues monitoring potential crises worldwide.
Late at night, when the wide corridors of the Pentagon are
all but empty, the National Military Command Center hums with
purpose. There's real-time access to the location of U.S.
forces anywhere in the world, to granular satellite images or
to the White House Situation Room.
The purpose of all this is to be able to answer any
question the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff might
have. To be ready 24 hours a day, every day, takes five
brigadier generals, a staff of colonels and senior
noncommissioned officers--and a man wearing a pink contractor
badge and a bright purple shirt and tie.
Erik Saar's job title is ``knowledge engineer.'' In one of
the most sensitive places in America, he is the only person
in the room who knows how to bring data from far afield,
fast. Saar and four teammates from a private company, SRA
International, teach these top-ranked staff officers to think
in Web 2.0. They are trying to push a tradition-bound culture
to act differently, digitally.
That sometimes means asking for help in a public online
chat room or exchanging ideas on shared Web pages outside the
military computer networks dubbed .mil--things much resisted
within the Pentagon's self-sufficient culture. ``Our job is
to change the perception of leaders who might drive change,''
Saar said.
Since 9/11, contractors have made extraordinary
contributions--and extraordinary blunders--that have changed
history and clouded the public's view of the distinction
between the actions of officers sworn on behalf of the United
States and corporate employees with little more than a
security badge and a gun.
Contractor misdeeds in Iraq and Afghanistan have hurt U.S.
credibility in those countries as well as in the Middle East.
Abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib, some of it done by
contractors, helped ignite a call for vengeance against the
United States that continues today. Security guards working
for Blackwater added fuel to the five-year violent chaos in
Iraq and became the symbol of an America run amok.
Contractors in war zones, especially those who can fire
weapons, blur ``the line between the legitimate and
illegitimate use of force, which is just what our enemies
want,'' Allison Stanger, a professor of international
politics and economics at Middlebury College and the author
of ``One Nation Under Contract,'' told the independent
Commission on Wartime Contracting at a hearing in June.
Misconduct happens, too. A defense contractor formerly
called MZM paid bribes for CIA contracts, sending Randy
``Duke'' Cunningham, who was a California congressman on the
intelligence committee, to prison. Guards employed in
Afghanistan by ArmorGroup North America, a private security
company, were caught on camera in a lewd-partying scandal.
But contractors have also advanced the way the military
fights. During the bloodiest months in Iraq, the founder of
Berico Technologies, a former Army officer named Guy
Filippelli, working with the National Security Agency.
invented a technology that made finding the makers of
roadside bombs easier and helped stanch the number of
casualties from improvised explosives, according to NSA
officials.
Contractors have produced blueprints and equipment for the
unmanned aerial war fought by drones, which have killed the
largest number of senior al-Qaeda leaders and produced a
flood of surveillance videos. A dozen firms created the
transnational digital highway that carries the drones' real-
time data on terrorist hide-outs from overseas to command
posts throughout the United States.
Private firms have become so thoroughly entwined with the
government's most sensitive activities that without them
important military and intelligence missions would have to
cease or would be jeopardized. Some examples:
*At the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), the number
of contractors equals the number of federal employees. The
department depends on 318 companies for essential services
and personnel, including 19 staffing firms that help DHS find
and hire even more contractors. At the office that handles
intelligence, six out of 10 employees are from private
industry.
*The National Security Agency, which conducts worldwide
electronic surveillance, hires private firms to come up with
most of its technological innovations. The NSA used to work
with a small stable of firms; now it works with at least 484
and is actively recruiting more.
*The National Reconnaissance Office cannot produce, launch
or maintain its large satellite surveillance systems, which
photograph countries such as China, North Korea and Iran,
without the four major contractors it works with.
*Every intelligence and military organization depends on
contract linguists to communicate overseas, translate
documents and make sense of electronic voice intercepts. The
demand for native speakers is so great, and the amount of
money the government is willing to pay for them is so huge,
that 56 firms compete for this business.
*Each of the 16 intelligence agencies depends on
corporations to set up its computer networks, communicate
with other agencies' networks, and fuse and mine disparate
bits of information that might indicate a terrorist plot.
More than 400 companies work exclusively in this area,
building classified hardware and software systems.
Hiring contractors was supposed to save the government
money. But that has not turned out to be the case. A 2008
study published by the Office of the Director of National
Intelligence found that contractors made up 29 percent of the
workforce in the intelligence agencies but cost the
equivalent of 49 percent of their personnel budgets. Gates
said that federal workers cost the government 25 percent less
than contractors.
The process of reducing the number of contractors has been
slow, if the giant Office of Naval Intelligence in Suitland
is any example. There, 2,770 people work on the round-the-
clock maritime watch floor tracking commercial vessels, or in
science and engineering laboratories, or in one of four
separate intelligence centers. But it is the employees of 70
information technology companies who keep the place
operating.
They store, process and analyze communications and
intelligence transmitted to and from the entire U.S. naval
fleet and commercial vessels worldwide. ``Could we keep this
building running without contractors?'' said the captain in
charge of information technology. ``No, I don't think we
could keep up with it.''
Vice Adm. David J. ``Jack'' Dorsett, director of naval
intelligence, said he could save millions each year by
converting 20 percent of the contractor jobs at the Suitland
complex to civil servant positions. He has gotten the go-
ahead, but it's been a slow start. This year, his staff has
converted one contractor job and eliminated another--out of
589. ``It's costing me an arm and a leg,'' Dorsett said.
Washington's corridors of power stretch in a nearly
straight geographical line from the Supreme Court to the
Capitol to the White House. Keep going west, across the
Potomac River, and the unofficial seats of power--the
private, corporate ones--become visible, especially at night.
There in the Virginia suburbs are the brightly illuminated
company logos of Top Secret America: Northrop Grumman, SAIC,
General Dynamics.
Of the 1,931 companies identified by The Post that work on
top-secret contracts, about 110 of them do roughly 90 percent
of the work on the corporate side of the defense-
intelligence-corporate world.
To understand how these firms have come to dominate the
post-9/11 era, there's no better place to start than the
Herndon office of General Dynamics. One recent afternoon
there, Ken Pohill was watching a series of unclassified
images, the first of which showed a white truck moving across
his computer monitor.
The truck was in Afghanistan, and a video camera bolted to
the belly of a U.S. surveillance plane was following it.
Pohill could access a dozen images that might help an
intelligence analyst figure out whether the truck driver was
just a truck driver or part of a network making roadside
bombs to kill American soldiers.
To do this, he clicked his computer mouse. Up popped a
picture of the truck driver's house, with notes about
visitors. Another click. Up popped infrared video of the
vehicle. Click: Analysis of an object thrown from the
driver's side. Click: U-2 imagery. Click: A history of the
truck's movement. Click: A Google Earth map of friendly
forces. Click: A chat box with everyone else following the
truck, too.
Ten years ago, if Pohill had worked for General Dynamics,
he probably would have had a job bending steel. Then, the
company's center of gravity was the industrial port city of
Groton, Conn., where men and women in wet galoshes churned
out submarines, the thoroughbreds of naval warfare. Today,
the firm's commercial core is made up of data tools such as
the digital imagery library in Herndon and the secure
BlackBerry-like device used by President Obama, both
developed at a carpeted suburban office by employees in
loafers and heels.
The evolution of General Dynamics was based on one simple
strategy: Follow the money.
The company embraced the emerging intelligence-driven style
of warfare. It developed small-target identification systems
and equipment that could intercept an insurgent's cellphone
and laptop communications. It found ways to sort the billions
of data points collected by intelligence agencies into piles
of information that a single person could analyze.
It also began gobbling up smaller companies that could help
it dominate the new intelligence landscape, just as its
competitors were doing. Between 2001 and 2010, the company
acquired 11 firms specializing in satellites, signals and
geospatial intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance,
technology integration and imagery.
On Sept. 11, 2001, General Dynamics was working with nine
intelligence organizations. Now it has contracts with all 16.
Its
employees fill the halls of the NSA and DHS. The corporation
was paid hundreds of millions of dollars to set up and manage
DHS's new offices in 2003, including its National Operations
Center, Office of Intelligence and Analysis and Office of
Security. Its employees do everything from deciding which
threats to investigate to answering phones.
General Dynamics' bottom line reflects its successful
transformation. It also reflects how much the U.S.
government--the firm's largest customer by far--has paid the
company beyond what it costs to do the work, which is, after
all, the goal of every profit-making corporation.
The company reported $31.9 billion in revenue in 2009, up
from $10.4 billion in 2000. Its workforce has more than
doubled in that time, from 43,300 to 91,700 employees,
according to the company.
Revenue from General Dynamics' intelligence- and
information-related divisions, where the majority of its top-
secret work is done, climbed to $10 billion in the second
quarter of 2009, up from $2.4 billion in 2000, accounting for
34 percent of its overall revenue last year.
The company's profitability is on display in its Falls
Church headquarters. There's a soaring, art-filled lobby,
bistro meals served on china enameled with the General
Dynamics logo and an auditorium with seven rows of white
leather-upholstered seats, each with its own microphone and
laptop docking station.
General Dynamics now has operations in every corner of the
intelligence world. It helps counterintelligence operators
and trains new analysts. It has a $600 million Air Force
contract to intercept communications. It makes $1 billion a
year keeping hackers out of U.S. computer networks and
encrypting military communications. It even conducts
information operations, the murky military art of trying to
persuade foreigners to align their views with U.S. interests.
``The American intelligence community is an important
market for our company,'' said General Dynamics spokesman
Kendell Pease. ``Over time, we have tailored our organization
to deliver affordable, best-of-breed products and services to
meet those agencies' unique requirements.''
In September 2009, General Dynamics won a $10 million
contract from the U.S. Special Operations Command's
psychological operations unit to create Web sites to
influence foreigners' views of U.S. policy. To do that, the
company hired writers, editors and designers to produce a set
of daily news sites tailored to five regions of the world.
They appear as regular news Web sites, with names such as
``SETimes.com: The News and Views of Southeast Europe.'' The
first indication that they are run on behalf of the military
comes at the bottom of the home page with the word
``Disclaimer.'' Only by clicking on that do you learn that
``the Southeast European Times (SET) is a Web site sponsored
by the United States European Command.''
What all of these contracts add up to: This year, General
Dynamics' overall revenue was $7.8 billion in the first
quarter, Jay L. Johnson, the company's chief executive and
president, said at an earnings conference call in April.
``We've hit the deck running in the first quarter,'' he said,
``and we're on our way to another successful year.''
In the shadow of giants such as General Dynamics are 1,814
small to midsize companies that do top-secret work. About a
third of them were established after Sept. 11, 2001, to take
advantage of the huge flow of taxpayer money into the private
sector. Many are led by former intelligence agency officials
who know exactly whom to approach for work.
Abraxas of Herndon, headed by a former CIA spy, quickly
became a major CIA contractor after 9/11. Its staff even
recruited midlevel managers during work hours from the CIA's
cafeteria, former agency officers recall.
Other small and medium-size firms sell niche technical
expertise such as engineering for low-orbit satellites or
long-dwell sensors. But the vast majority have not invented
anything at all. Instead, they replicate what the
government's workforce already does.
A company called SGIS, founded soon after the 2001 attacks,
was one of these.
In June 2002, from the spare bedroom of his San Diego home,
30-year-old Hany Girgis put together an information
technology team that won its first Defense Department
contract four months later. By the end of the year, SGIS had
opened a Tampa office close to the U.S. Central Command and
Special Operations Command, had turned a profit and had 30
employees.
SGIS sold the government the services of people with
specialized skills; expanding the types of teams it could put
together was one key to its growth. Eventually it offered
engineers, analysts and cyber-security specialists for
military, space and intelligence agencies. By 2003, the
company's revenue was $3.7 million. By then, SGIS had become
a subcontractor for General Dynamics, working at the secret
level. Satisfied with the partnership, General Dynamics
helped SGIS receive a top-secret facility clearance, which
opened the doors to more work.
By 2006, its revenue had multiplied tenfold, to $30.6
million, and the company had hired employees who specialized
in government contracting just to help it win more contracts.
``We knew that's where we wanted to play,'' Girgis said in
a phone interview. ``There's always going to be a need to
protect the homeland.''
Eight years after it began, SGIS was up to revenue of $101
million, 14 offices and 675 employees. Those with top-secret
clearances worked for 11 government agencies, according to
The Post's database.
The company's marketing efforts had grown, too, both in
size and sophistication. Its Web site, for example, showed an
image of Navy sailors lined up on a battleship over the words
``Proud to serve'' and another image of a Navy helicopter
flying near the Statue of Liberty over the words ``Preserving
freedom.'' And if it seemed hard to distinguish SGIS's work
from the government's, it's because they were doing so many
of the same things. SGIS employees replaced military
personnel at the Pentagon's 24/7 telecommunications center.
SGIS employees conducted terrorist threat analysis. SGIS
employees provided help-desk support for federal computer
systems.
Still, as alike as they seemed, there were crucial
differences.
For one, unlike in government, if an SGIS employee did a
good job, he might walk into the parking lot one day and be
surprised by co-workers clapping at his latest bonus: a
leased, dark-blue Mercedes convertible. And he might say, as
a video camera recorded him sliding into the soft leather
driver's seat, ``Ahhhh . . . this is spectacular.''
And then there was what happened to SGIS last month, when
it did the one thing the federal government can never do.
It sold itself.
The new owner is a Fairfax-based company called Salient
Federal Solutions, created just last year. It is a management
company and a private-equity firm with lots of Washington
connections that, with the purchase of SGIS, it intends to
parlay into contracts.
``We have an objective,'' says chief executive and
President Brad Antle, ``to make $500 million in five years.''
Of all the different companies in Top Secret America, the
most numerous by far are the information technology, or IT,
firms. About 800 firms do nothing but IT.
Some IT companies integrate the mishmash of computer
systems within one agency; others build digital links between
agencies; still others have created software and hardware
that can mine and analyze vast quantities of data.
The government is nearly totally dependent on these firms.
Their close relationship was on display recently at the
Defense Intelligence Agency's annual information technology
conference in Phoenix. The agency expected the same IT firms
angling for its business to pay for the entire five-day get-
together, a DIA spokesman confirmed.
And they did.
General Dynamics spent $30,000 on the event. On a perfect
spring night, it hosted a party at Chase Field, a 48,569-seat
baseball stadium, reserved exclusively for the conference
attendees. Government buyers and corporate sellers drank beer
and ate hot dogs while the DIA director's morning keynote
speech replayed on the gigantic scoreboard, digital baseballs
bouncing along the bottom of the screen.
Carahsoft Technology, a DIA contractor, invited guests to a
casino night where intelligence officials and vendors ate,
drank and bet phony money at craps tables run by professional
dealers.
The McAfee network security company, a Defense Department
contractor, welcomed guests to a Margaritaville-themed social
on the garden terrace of the hotel across the street from the
convention site, where 250 firms paid thousands of dollars
each to advertise their services and make their pitches to
intelligence officials walking the exhibition hall.
Government officials and company executives say these
networking events are critical to building a strong
relationship between the public and private sectors.
``If I make one contact each day, it's worth it,'' said Tom
Conway, director of federal business development for McAfee.
As for what a government agency gets out of it: ``Our goal
is to be open and learn stuff,'' said Grant M. Schneider, the
DIA's chief information officer and one of the conference's
main draws. By going outside Washington, where many of the
firms are headquartered, ``we get more synergy. . . . It's an
interchange with industry.''
These types of gatherings happen every week. Many of them
are closed to anyone without a top-secret clearance.
At a U.S. Special Operations Command conference in
Fayetteville, N.C., in April, vendors paid for access to some
of the people who decide what services and gadgets to buy for
troops. In mid-May, the national security industry held a
black-tie evening funded by the same corporations seeking
business from the defense, intelligence and congressional
leaders seated at their tables.
Such coziness worries other officials who believe the post-
9/11 defense-intelligence-corporate relationship has become,
as one senior military intelligence officer described it, a
``self-licking ice cream cone.''
Another official, a longtime conservative staffer on the
Senate Armed Services Committee, described it as ``a living,
breathing organism'' impossible to control or curtail. ``How
much money has been involved is just mind-boggling,'' he
said. ``We've built such a vast instrument. What are you
going to do with this thing? . . . It's turned into a jobs
program.''
Even some of those gathered in Phoenix criticized the size
and disjointedness of the intelligence community and its
contracting base. ``Redundancy is the unacceptable
norm,'' Lt. Gen. Richard P. Zahner, Army deputy chief of
staff for intelligence, told the 2,000 attendees. ``Are we
spending our resources effectively? . . . If we have not
gotten our houses in order, someone will do it for us.''
On a day that also featured free back rubs, shoeshines, ice
cream and fruit smoothies, another speaker, Kevin P. Meiners,
a deputy undersecretary for intelligence, gave the audience
what he called ``the secret sauce,'' the key to thriving even
when the Defense Department budget eventually stabilizes and
stops rising so rapidly.
``Overhead,'' Meiners told them--that's what's going to get
cut first. Overhead used to mean paper clips and toner. Now
it's information technology, IT, the very products and
services sold by the businesspeople in the audience.
``You should describe what you do as a weapons system, not
overhead,'' Meiners instructed. ``Overhead to them--I'm
giving you the secret sauce here--is IT and people. . . . You
have to foot-stomp hard that this is a war-fighting system
that's helping save people's lives every day.''
After he finished, many of the government officials
listening headed to the exhibit hall, where company
salespeople waited in display booths. Peter Coddington, chief
executive of InTTENSITY, a small firm whose software teaches
computers to ``read'' documents, was ready for them.
``You have to differentiate yourself,'' he said as they
fanned out into the aisles. Coddington had glass beer mugs
and pens twirling atop paperweight pyramids to help persuade
officials of the nation's largest military intelligence
agency that he had something they needed.
But first he needed them to stop walking so fast, to slow
down long enough for him to start his pitch. His twirling
pens seemed to do the job. ``It's like moths to fire,''
Coddington whispered.
A DIA official with a tote bag approached. She spotted the
pens, and her pace slowed. ``Want a pen?'' Coddington called.
She hesitated. ``Ah . . . I have three children,'' she
said.
``Want three pens?''
She stopped. In Top Secret America, every moment is an
opportunity.
``We're a text extraction company . . . ,'' Coddington
began, handing her the pens.