American Disruptor: The Scandalous Life of Leland Stanford. By Roland De Wolk (Berkeley, University of California Press, 2019) 299 pp. $34.95

Abstract

There are many ways for a work of history to draw upon the skills and insights of other disciplines, whether of sociology, psychology, or, in the case of the book under review, journalism. De Wolk had a long and successful career as a journalist before undertaking the lengthy period of archival research that more typically is the province of the historian. Happily, the resulting book has many of the strengths that one might anticipate from this combination, such as vivid prose and a strong narrative drive.The title is indicative of De Wolk’s argument that Leland Stanford was, as the driving force of capitalism, the living embodiment of Schumpeter’s “creative destruction.”1 That is, Stanford and his colleagues in the Big Four of railroad magnates who built the Central Pacific, with a shaping influence on the history of California and the nation as a whole, did not let ethical niceties stand in the way of their push to build a transcontinental line. This line would famously be completed at Promontory Point on May 10, 1869, when its eastward-bound tracks met those of the westward Union Pacific. But Stanford, in particular, can be faulted for openly using high office as a Civil War governor of the state to advance the interests of the Central Pacific, as De Wolk makes plain.Stanford was born in upstate New York in 1824, in a large family. Nothing in his early life—a failure to persevere in any one course long enough to be successful and a lack of commitment to education were outstanding characteristics—foretold his later towering role. Having led an undistinguished life before arriving in Sacramento in July 1852 to join his four brothers, he did not immediately strike it rich. But the store that they ran had two notable neighbors, Collis P. Huntington and Mark Hopkins, and the nucleus of the Big Four became acquainted with one another (Charles Crocker was the fourth). Within less than a decade, and under the influence of the pioneering engineer Theodore Judah, who had figured out how to conquer the Sierras, the Big Four were on their way to amassing fortunes with their creation of the Central Pacific, even if they would soon become archetypal Robber Barons—defined as those who become rich through unscrupulous means.Two main criticisms can be leveled at the book. First, It contains a number of generalizations that seem overly broad or even unfair. To cite one example, De Wolk gives short shrift to abolitionists, even though they, while a minority, would play an important role in shaping public opinion in the Golden State during the Civil War. The other criticism concerns De Wolk’s suggested connection between Stanford—the human disruptor—and Stanford University—the institution that Stanford and his wife Jane founded to honor their dead son. The university has been a disruptive force in the Santa Clara Valley by being a catalyst for Silicon Valley. Rather than taking criticism for suggesting the connection, he should have made a more forceful case. He tells us that the Stanfords endowed the university with a land grant of more than 8,000 acres, spanning what is now not only Santa Clara County but also San Mateo County. That land was in the hands of Leland Stanford because of the ruthless way in which he had pursued wealth. His initial success with the railroad led to vast riches, but it was not the only mode by which he gained his wealth, as De Wolk makes clear.De Wolk devotes some attention to the death of Stanford’s wife Jane in 1905 (twelve years after her husband’s), while she served as president of the university's board of trustees. Notwithstanding the machinations of David Starr Jordan, the president of Stanford University at the time, whom Jane did not like, De Wolk confirms that she was poisoned by a person (or persons) unknown whose identity is impossible to trace at this point.Flash forward to the twenty-first century. A newspaper story in the November 3, 2019, issue of the San Jose Mercury News, “Who Owns Silicon Valley?” identified Stanford University, owning holdings with a current market value of $19.7 billion, as the county’s property owner with the most valuable holdings—exceeding, for example, those of Apple, Google, and other tech firms—without even taking into account the value of the land in San Mateo County. Thus, a direct line clearly runs between the Robber Baron tactics responsible for Leland Stanford’s success and the extraordinarily powerful institution that he and his wife founded, an institution with resources virtually unmatched in higher education on a global level.In sum, this flawed but valuable book provides a good summation of the life of an important American, in a highly readable way. But it should not be regarded as the last word.