The SpeedSim case study focuses on how mergers and acquisitions work in startup and entrepreneurial environments. It describes how an intelligent East Coast engineer built an extremely frugal company with a goal for acquisition and how the SpeedSim team masterfully executed and maximized their return by starting, growing, and selling a company. The case analyzes how small companies position themselves to be acquired and how an acquirer assesses a company. The case can be used for mergers and acquisition and exit discussions, as well as for culture and organizational behavior discussions for entrepreneurship curriculums.

This case study profiles the high-growth social games industry where users played games like Farmville and Mafia Wars on social networks like Facebook and MySpace, with the goal of socializing with friends and/or meeting new people. By 2009, the social games industry was expected to grow to 250 million people playing, up from just 50 million one year ago. By the end of 2009, social gaming had gone from being considered the "wild west" of gaming in the U.S. to one that was a bright spot in the gaming industry (where video game and console sales were declining at a rate of 20 percent a year), taken seriously by all of the industry players, including traditional publishers like Electronic Arts. By the end of 2009, the world of social gaming was an exciting industry, and one with an open-ended future. As the industry continued to grow and develop, U.S. social games players had all eyes on Asia where companies had innovated in terms of monetization models, new platforms like mobile and game content.

In 2010 Glenn Dubin reflected upon the enduring organization and culture he and co-founder Henry Swieca had infused into Highbridge Capital Management over the course of almost two decades. Since the firm's launch in 1992, New York-based Highbridge had grown to become a diversified investment platform comprising hedge funds, traditional asset management products, and credit and equity investments with longer-term holding periods. The company employed more than 315 people at offices in New York, London, Hong Kong and Tokyo, and managed $21 billion for prominent institutional investors, public and corporate pension funds, endowments, foundations and family offices. Highbridge was known by many on Wall Street as a "benchmark," largely due to the firm's investment performance and to the diversity and dynamism of the organization. Investors had come to rely on Highbridge's consistent returns and attention to risk management. The firm comprised a group of gifted, committed professionals as a result of Dubin's longtime focus on talent, nurturing a culture of collaboration, building a sophisticated risk management and technology platform, and maintaining a robust operating infrastructure. In 2009, J.P. Morgan completed its purchase of Highbridge-a strategic partnership the two organizations began in 2004 when J.P. Morgan Asset Management purchased a majority interest in the firm. In 2010, Dubin described his desired impact on the increasingly complex and sophisticated organization: "I hope that my legacy will be a bigger and more diversified Highbridge-but one that has the same culture and core principles of excellence, staffed with individuals with high integrity and an interest in successful collaboration. This is the only way I know to ensure that our initial goal of creating an organization that can outlive its founders will be achieved."

Forty-one year old Andrea Wong, the president and CEO of Lifetime Entertainment Services. When Wong joined Lifetime, she said that the network was "widely viewed as a tired brand...ratings had flattened out, and the audience was aging." Moreover, Lifetime's stereotype had become a network that showed "women in peril" shows and movies. Wong was excited to reinvigorate the Network's brand, but when Wong actually set foot in her new office at Lifetime, she realized her task was going to be harder than she had initially imagined. Beyond the ratings problems and image problems, Wong discovered that numerous cultural issues plagued the company, problems that needed immediate fixing. In rapid fire mode, Wong moved quickly as a leader, making key people decisions in the spirit of changing a culture that lacked clear lines of responsibility, accountability, and nimbleness, while simultaneously changing Lifetime's brand reputation through its programming and marketing.

Kevin Reilly, at forty-six years old, had one of his first television executive experiences in the drama department at NBC, had―like many others―experienced his fair share of drama. What he described as the "three toughest years of my career" were at NBC when he served as entertainment president from 2003 to 2007. Reilly had re-joined NBC, after having originally worked his way up the executive ladder there from 1988 to 1994. He joined the second time around, just as NBC- which had a record ratings and profit run in the mid-90's to 2001-had begun a downward spiral brought about by a long development drought. In a little over a month, Reilly became the President of Entertainment at the top-rated Fox network. Fox Entertainment Chairman Peter Liguori, Reilly's former boss at the FX Network (a Fox-owned cable network), approached Reilly about the prospect of gaining a chance to "do over" his experience at NBC. Reilly had worked with Liguori at FX (from 2000 to 2003), where Liguori had been chairman and Reilly entertainment president. This time around, Liguori hired Reilly to oversee all programming responsibilities for FOX Broadcasting Company. Reilly started at Fox in July 2007 but nearly four months later, he faced a writers' strike, which hobbled the entertainment industry for most of the year, ending just as the nascent signs of the severe economic downturn had already begun to taken shape. Despite such challenges, Reilly pushed forward, doing what he had done throughout his career, which was to challenge the system, question convention, and find and develop hit shows that appealed to general audiences and critics alike.

Green Dot was a charter management organization (CMO) based in Los Angeles, California (L.A.), a city that housed the second-largest school district in the country. The Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) was known for its largely ethnic student population (75 percent Hispanic and 11 percent African American) and multiple challenges ranging from poor performance to violence to low graduation rates. High school graduation rates in the district were only 45 percent (compared to 68 percent nationally), with Hispanic students graduating at a rate of only 39 percent. Gary Orfield of the Harvard Civil Rights Project called the city's high schools "dropout factories." By 2008, Green Dot had opened 12 charter high schools in some of the highest-need areas of L.A., hoping to demonstrate "that public schools can do a far better job of educating students if schools are operated more effectively." Founder, Steve Barr and his team had their own ideas about the tipping point and its metrics, which were both quantitative (e.g., 10 percent market share of schools within LAUSD) and qualitative, in terms of gains in political influence. As Barr and his Green Dot team worked towards opening of new school, Locke in the fall of 2008, Barr was both nervous and optimistic. He knew the future of Los Angeles students, parents, and their communities depended on the success of his team. He wondered if his new transformation strategy was the optimal strategy. He also wondered if his thinking about the tipping point would give him and his team the best chance for success.

The Russian Federation (Russia) was the largest of the 15 geopolitical entities that emerged in 1991 from the Soviet Union. Despite a series of reforms initiated in 1992 to help the country transition from its centrally planned economy, Russia plunged into a deep recession that was exacerbated by a financial crisis in 1998. It was not until 1999, following eight years of turmoil, macroeconomic stabilization and economic restructuring, that the economy slowly began to grow again. When Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin became president on December 31, 1999, Russia was the world's tenth-largest economy and its foreign reserves stood at $8.5 billion. By 2007, the country's economy had become the world's eighth-biggest, with reserves of $407.5 billion. In May 2008, when Russia's new president, Dmitry Medvedev, was inaugurated and Putin assumed the role of prime minister, western companies with interests in Russia faced great uncertainty. Would Putin's hand-picked successor, under Putin's powerful and watchful eye, continue to enact policies and take actions that would make the business environment increasingly unfavorable to foreign investment? Or, would the new regime chart a more liberal and democratic course for Russia that would enable the country to improve its global competitiveness and allow outside investors to participate in its prosperity? Russia had made great strides to improve its position in the world since the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Yet, it remained to be seen whether the country, particularly under its current circumstances, could create and sustain lasting international competitive advantage, which many western critics believed would require a more democratic political regime. This paper provides a brief overview of the country and explores the status of China's competitive advantage through the framework of Michael Porter's Competitive Advantage of Nations.

In 1999, the nonprofit Fair Labor Association (FLA) was launched to monitor factories around the world for sweatshop-related infractions. Another key nonprofit player, the Worker Rights Consortium (WRC), was launched in 2000. The two organizations had similar goals, but very different histories, strategies, and ways of operating. One major difference was that the FLA board included corporations, while the WRC board contained no industry representatives, but only representatives from the United Students Against Sweatshops (USAS), member universities, and labor-allied NGOs (non-governmental organizations). Mission-wise, the FLA focused on all apparel, while the WRC only focused on apparel bearing college and university names and logos. The fact that the FLA included company/industry representatives on its policy-making board, and the WRC did not, created not merely a difference but a source of immediate disagreement and conflict. By 2008, the WRC had grown from a membership of 44 colleges and universities at its founding to 174, and the FLA had grown from 100 colleges and universities to 205. Although the two organizations had often been closely associated together, appearing on panels, and even occasionally collaborating, their shared history had been controversial and tumultuous. Among the issues under continuing dispute were the role of third-party labor unions (which were not allowed by the government in countries such as China and Vietnam), the problem of "living wages" (which would raise production costs considerably), allegations voiced on the website "FLA Watch" (which seemed to many to be one-sided and unfair), and the overall impact of the anti-sweatshop movement's efforts (which led some to question how much progress had been made).

New York-born Denise Di Novi was a rare breed in Hollywood-she had become a high-powered and highly successful movie producer within a small elite "boy's club" coterie while raising two sons and having a fulfilling family life. Despite the fact that 50-year-old Di Novi had reached the pinnacle in her field, the road had not always been easy. Raising two sons while being on movie sets for marathon 13+ hour days, as well as nurturing a fruitful 19-year marriage with a husband also in the business, required an incredible amount of juggling. How she managed that hectic lifestyle was partly due to her choice not to "go out at night" or frequent the ubiquitous and swanky Hollywood parties or movie premiers unless the movie was made by a close friend. Di Novi's down-to-earth way of thinking and lifestyle has not only made her an anomaly within the high-flying tabloid-rich movie industry, but also has helped her to survive the cuts and bruises inherent to a job where a series of movie flops would get her "dropped" by a studio in a second.

Headquartered in St. Paul, Minnesota, Minnesota Public Radio (MPR) started as a small public station that 26-year-old William Kling established at St. John's Abbey and University in Collegeville, Minnesota in 1967. By 2004, Kling's venture had grown into a regional network of 38 stations, serving more than five million people. The organization had more than 83,000 members and boasted the highest percentage of listener membership of any community-supported public radio network in the nation. Much of MPR's growth and success had been built through what Kling referred to as "social purpose capitalism...the application of the traditional principles of capitalism...to a nonprofit organization [to] benefit the public sector." Kling's first foray into "social purpose capitalism" was in 1981 when Garrison Keillor, the popular host of "A Prairie Home Companion," wanted to reward loyal listeners with a free poster of "Powdermilk Biscuits," an allusion to a fictitious sponsor that was part of a Prairie Home gag. The giveaway drew over 50,000 responses, much more than originally anticipated, costing $60,000. To avert financial ruin, Kling printed an offer for other products that listeners could buy on the back of the poster. Netting $15,000 to $20,000 from that poster convinced Kling that there were opportunities to secure MPR's financial situation. Kling created a number of for-profit ventures to support and build the MPR empire. By 2004, however, MPR and Kling were the subject of unrelenting public criticism. Ostensibly, the issue was MPR's unwillingness to disclose Kling's compensation from the private for-profit enterprises spawned by MPR. After disclosing this information, Kling became the subject of condemnation amid accusations of conflicts of interest and nepotism. Knowledgeable observers, however, saw the real concern to be fear that a public benefit organization was being driven by profit-making priorities.

Every Tuesday evening, after a hectic day at the NBC Universal offices in Universal City, Neal Baer kicked up his feet to watch the latest episode of the award-winning police television series, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (SVU). SVU was part of the triumvirate Law & Order franchise created by Hollywood legend Dick Wolf. The suite of shows included the original Law & Order, SVU, and Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Baer, an Emmy-nominated writer, was a "showrunner" for SVU--industry slang for the person in charge of every aspect of a television series, from story creation to script writing to direction and post-production--essentially the person who "ran the show." The term, showrunner, arose from the need to distinguish the executive producer from the writers, cast members, and post-production people who were often called "co-executive producers." Being a showrunner was analogous to being a baseball manager: "While the baseball manager reports to a general manager as well as a team owner(s), he is still perceived by the players, the public, and the journalists as the driving force behind the team. He is lauded if the team is successful, and fired if the team is losing. The same is true for the showrunner. Also, like a baseball manager, the showrunner works with other producers, who like the manager's coaching staff--the pitching coach, and the first- and third-base coaches--are professionals and expert at what they do." As a showrunner, Baer was a lot like senior managers at traditional corporations--he and SVU had earned enough respect within the industry to lead to a significant amount of autonomy but not absolute freedom. He needed to keep people below and above him happy. And he needed to be strategic at a high level to make a successful series while juggling tight deadlines and budgetary constraints, among other day-to-day details, on multiple episodes.

Professional cycling teams use road bikes made up of several parts or components: frames, forks, wheels and tires, saddles, seat posts, handlebars, and pedals. Pedals hold a cyclist's special shoes in place so they can "clip in" for greater control and power, and several companies make different models of pedals. Lance Armstrong, seven-time winner of the Tour de France, uses Shimano pedals. Shimano, founded and based in Sakai City, Japan, makes many of the key components of a bike. The fact that each of the different components to a high-end road bike are manufactured by different companies makes for a complicated bike industry supply chain. By 2006, Shimano had grown from a family-based business (founded by Shozoburo Shimano in 1920) that focused on freewheels, to a $1.6 billion global company (with net income of $186 million) that not only manufactured mid- to high-end bike components (and low-end components as well), but also made fishing tackle. Eighty percent of the company's sales were from high-end bike components and 20 % from mid-range bicycle components. Seventy-five percent of the company's earnings could be attributed to components. Shimano led the bike component industry, owning over 80 % of the high-end component market. But growth did not come overnight. Shimano's leaders reflected on the company and its growth trajectory. They were particularly proud of Shimano's market domination, largely attributable to the company's commitment to research and technology, as well as to the amount of value the company had been able to leverage from the industry's supply chain. As new technologies and new companies began to enter the market, and the longer term sales trend of a mature road bike industry remained relatively flat--despite the "Armstrong effect"--Shimano's leaders and their team wondered how to continue their growth in the mid- to high-end components market and achieve growth on an even greater global scale.

Like many technology organizations in the late 1990s, Cisco was booming. It grew so quickly, in fact, that it was bringing in up to 1,000 new employees each month. Cisco's solution was to acquire talent by buying small firms, topping out in one year with 24 separate acquisitions. However, in 2000, the dot-com bubble burst and Cisco quickly realized that it had another human capital challenge on its hands: how to develop, rather than hire, the strategic thinkers and leaders needed for the future. Explores the challenges facing Mary Eckenrod, Cisco's vice-president of worldwide talent, in developing a new human capital strategy to identify and develop leaders from within the company--and to do this in a company with no tradition of developing people internally. How can Cisco move from a "buy" to a "make" human capital strategy?

Capital One CEO and founder, Rich Fairbank, had much to be proud of both in terms of his and co-founder Nigel Morris' accomplishments and the accomplishments of Capital One. However, he and Morris didn't want to rest on their laurels. In 2000, they called a meeting with their senior managers to assess the company's strategy. Specifically, Fairbank wondered whether the company had executed on the optimal strategy throughout its history and whether the company's strategy was consistent, yet fluid and flexible, during changing times. Also, had the various functions optimally aligned with the company's strategy? Other financial companies imitated Capital One's successes. Fairbank wanted to ensure that the company remained ahead of the competition, while maintaining its culture of testing and innovation.

On June 8, 1998, California-based Wells Fargo and Minneapolis banking company Norwest announced a "merger of equals" in a stock deal valued at $34 billion and one that created the Western Hemisphere's most extensive and diversified financial services network. The Wells-Norwest combined company would have $191 billion in assets, more than 90,000 employees, approximately 20 million customers, and 5,777 financial services "stores" (mortgage, consumer finance, or banking stores) in 50 states, Canada, the Caribbean, Latin America, and internationally. The new combined company, Wells Fargo & Co., would be the sixth largest bank in the United States and have the largest supermarket branch network and the largest Internet bank of any U.S. bank. With the merger, Paul Hazen, chairman and CEO of Wells Fargo at the time, became chairman of the new organization. Richard Kovacevich, chairman and CEO of Norwest, became president and CEO of the new organization. Despite Kovacevich and Hazen's enthusiasm for the merger, they had a series of potential barriers to overcome: First, Wells Fargo and Norwest had contrasting cultures--Norwest was known for customer service and a superior sales culture whereas Wells Fargo was a leader in online banking and technology, with a focus on efficiency. Second, in 1998, Wells Fargo was still in the process of overcoming a merger with First Interstate that was widely considered a failure. Finally, many industry analysts viewed the Wells-Norwest merger with much caution. Given such barriers, Kovacevich and his team wondered how they could overcome such issues through an optimal integration strategy and effective execution toward that plan.

On June 8, 1998, California-based Wells Fargo and Minneapolis banking company Norwest announced a "merger of equals" in a stock deal valued at $34 billion and one that created the Western Hemisphere's most extensive and diversified financial services network. The Wells-Norwest combined company would have $191 billion in assets, more than 90,000 employees, approximately 20 million customers, and 5,777 financial services "stores" (mortgage, consumer finance, or banking stores) in 50 states, Canada, the Caribbean, Latin America, and internationally. The new combined company, Wells Fargo & Co., would be the sixth largest bank in the United States and have the largest supermarket branch network and the largest Internet bank of any U.S. bank. With the merger, Paul Hazen, chairman and CEO of Wells Fargo at the time, became chairman of the new organization. Richard Kovacevich, chairman and CEO of Norwest, became president and CEO of the new organization. Despite Kovacevich's and Hazen's enthusiasm for the merger, they had a series of potential barriers to overcome: First, Wells Fargo and Norwest had contrasting cultures--Norwest was known for customer service and a superior sales culture, whereas Wells Fargo was a leader in online banking and technology, with a focus on efficiency. Second, in 1998, Wells Fargo was still in the process of overcoming a merger with First Interstate that was widely considered a failure. Finally, many industry analysts viewed the Wells-Norwest merger with much caution. Given such barriers, Kovacevich and his team wondered how they could overcome such issues through an optimal integration strategy and effective execution toward that plan.

Keith Ferrazzi had certainly come a long way. The son of a steelworker and a cleaning lady, he attended an elite elementary school and then a top prep school in Pennsylvania, followed by undergraduate work at Yale and then Harvard Business School. He was wooed by top consulting firms and ended up on the partner track at Deloitte Consulting, where he built the company's marketing function. He left consulting to become the chief marketing officer of Starwood Hotels and Resorts, eventually leaving the company to become CEO of YaYa Media. In 1997, he was named by Crain's Chicago Business as a member of the "40 Under 40." In 1999, he was also named one of the "Power 10" by Business Marketing, and in 2002 was named among the most creative Americans in Who's Really Who. The World Economic Forum named him a "Global Leader of Tomorrow." In the summer of 2003, Ferrazzi was at a key crossroads in his life. He had sold YaYa Media to a company called American Vantage. He questioned the opportunities for growth within YaYa and was considering a transition from the company into a new role. Ferrazzi faced two questions: First, what should he do? Should he work for a large company in a senior management position, ultimately seeking to become the CEO? Should he seek out another CEO position at a smaller, entrepreneurial company? Should he do something entirely different, such as turn his skill at networking and his interest in teaching others how to build relationships into a business? Second, what other bases of influence besides networking and building social relationships should or could he develop?

In 1998, 38-year-old Gary Loveman was perfectly content with his job as an untenured associate professor at the Harvard Business School. He was a popular teacher with standing room only classes in service management. He lived comfortably with his family in Massachusetts and had successful consulting engagements and executive education assignments with companies such as Harrah's Entertainment. His prospects for tenure review, coming up in the next year or two, looked good. Then his life dramatically changed when the then-CEO of Harrah's, Phil Satre, offered him a job as chief operating officer (COO) of the company. Commuting from his home in Massachusetts, Loveman took the job and never turned back. But hiring Loveman caused some internal and external rumblings. Loveman had never before managed anyone apart from his administrative assistant and some research assistants; he was now going to manage 15 casinos with more than 10,000 hotel rooms and over 35,000 employees. The company was also closing one of its largest acquisitions to date, Showboat. Moreover, the gaming industry was not, in 1998, a common destination for MBA graduates, let alone PhDs--it was an industry dominated by insiders who had spent their careers in gaming, working their way up from the bottom. The tasks facing Loveman as he joined Harrah's were daunting. He had somehow to gain credibility and respect inside Harrah's, as well as in the industry. He had to lead Harrah's through a transition to a more marketing-focused company and help the company break out of a financial performance plateau. And he had to build a set of relationships and a power base to potentially attain the CEO position when Satre stepped down in five years. What could he do to accomplish all this?

Laura Esserman, a surgeon and faculty member at the University of California at San Francisco as well as a graduate of Stanford Business School, is engaged in a major effort to change the delivery of breast cancer services and the information systems used to support both research and patient care. A true visionary with enormous personal charm and charisma, Esserman has run into obstacles and opposition as she tries to get support in a bureaucratic, complex, academic medical organization. Focuses on Esserman's accomplishments and various other actors and brings up the issue of how she should develop more power and influence to move along her vision.