Born to Run

Profile of this year's Entrepreneur of the Year winners.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 NEXT

Bob Levine and Craig Benson built Cabletron Systems Inc. into a $100-million upstart by staying light on their feet. How long can they keep up the pace?

S. Robert Levine looks every inch the executive you'd expect to find running a fast-growing $105-million maker of computer products -- right from the top of his head down to the tips of his shoulders.

Then the carefully slicked-down hair and the gleaming wire-rimmed glasses give way to something slightly more, well, menacing.

It starts with the muscles. Levine's perennial short sleeves strain against his imposing biceps, trophies of a decade and a half of daily weight lifting. And since one or both of his legs always shake with nervous energy, you can't help noticing his giant ostrich-skin boots. In May 1989, when Cabletron Systems Inc. went public on the New York Stock Exchange, underwriters tried to persuade the company's president and chief executive to swap his swaggering style for something tamer. "I couldn't," he says with a shrug.

More to the point, he wouldn't. Levine, 32, likes to confound expectations. His office looks like a fun-house version of a standard CEO's work space. On one wall hangs a picture of President George Bush with -- if you trust the caption underneath -- Levine. Look closely; it's not Levine. "I don't know who that guy is," he admits. Pick up the Christmas card resting on the windowsill, and you'll be treated to a blasphemous hand-scribbled holiday message. Levine thinks it's from someone he fired. Now step over the piles of trade magazines and the barbells -- oh, and push aside the dry cleaning -- and you can get a splendid view of the plaque Levine received, citing his skill in designing silicon wafers. It's fake. "I'm not mechanically inclined," he says. Another expectation dashed: here's a high-tech garage start-up that was not launched by a technologist.

Nor, for that matter, is Levine much of a marketer. On that score, his latest brainstorm involved having decks of cards made up with a snapshot of his head, along with that of Craig R. Benson, chairman, treasurer, and chief operating officer, on the jokers. And it seems safe to say that Levine's gift does not lie in finance, for which Benson, who has an M.B.A., is much better equipped. Levine's unique genius -- which has propelled Cabletron, in just seven years, to more than $100 million in sales with aftertax profits of about 21% -- is much rarer and broader than that.

Consider this: though Cabletron has long left its original niche (and the one after that) behind, though 25% of its sales now come from abroad, though the computer-networking industry has exploded in recent years, the company has held on to something that most small companies can't help let slip as they grow.

There's no missing it: Cabletron clings to a distinct identity.

From the start, Levine shaped Cabletron in his own swashbuckling image, and he has been ruthless about not letting it stray. "Cabletronians," as employees call themselves, value speed, decisiveness, and responsiveness. But with an almost knee-jerk machismo -- remember, their leader not only pilots a Harley-Davidson but also indulges in another dangerous pastime, to be detailed later, that recently left him with a dizzying concussion and a lost tooth -- employees disdain any signs that the company is growing soft. Such big-company prerogatives as vice-presidents and massive meetings have no place at Cabletron. They'd just slow things down. Cabletron still moves as fast and as flexibly as a $25-million upstart.

Which is, to be sure, a remarkable achievement. For now.

But with analysts predicting that sales could skyrocket as high as $170 million next year and more competitors streaming into the computer-networking market, Cabletron may start bumping up against the limitations of its rebellious style. The lean company could, quite literally, work itself to death. Or, swept away by its continued growth, it may lose its edge. Levine must confront a sensitive and pivotal dilemma: how can Cabletron stay speedy while it grows huge?

"At some point you get big, and that's the way it is. I know that," Levine responds, shifting his boots from the desk to the floor. "No matter how big we get, I've got to be able to touch enough people so that the electricity zips down to everyone. I want to have influence over the philosophy, not over every piddling decision.

"We've written our own rules from day one," he adds. "We'll find a way to do this."

Cabletron was truly born to run. In February 1983 Levine was a sales rep for a couple of cable companies -- including Montrose Products Co., founded by his grandfather and run by his father -- when one of his accounts, in the person of Craig Benson, told him about a company that needed 1,000 feet of Teflon cable immediately. The normal lead time would have been about six months. Eager to stay on Benson's good side, Levine went out and bought 10,000 feet of cable -- the smallest amount he could find -- worth $30,000.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 NEXT

Try a RISK-FREE Issue of Inc. Today!

Renew | Contact Us | Current Issue

Select Services