Illustrations by Mark Todd

A woman, unknown to all but a few spectators, walks to the mound at Comiskey Park and throws out the ceremonial first pitch. A CEO is invited to join the board of a civic institution that he barely knows. A columnist helps a mogul get a date with a starlet. A Democrat and a Republican meet secretly, tipping an election and sparing a score of patronage workers the pink slip.

Different as these events may be, they all fall within the favor economy--a vast underground system that quietly keeps Chicago's legitimate economy healthy. The favor economy is not tracked by experts and can not be analyzed with reams of statistics. To follow its ups and downs, you're better off going to the rumor mill--or to the bar at Gibsons--than reading The Wall Street Journal. Yet favors are vital currency for the city's elite and for its up-and-comers, who trade them to get ahead, to spread influence, and--occasionally--simply to do good. Active favor traders estimate they spend up to a quarter of their working hours orchestrating favors that cannot be tied directly to their actual job or the bottom line. The action is as pervasive in City Hall--where, one politico says, "favors are the DNA of Chicago politics"--as it is in high social circles--where, according to novelist Sugar Rautbord, "doing favors is as de rigueur as putting a napkin on your lap."

The favor economy is hardly unique to Chicago. But it flourishes here because, like most economies, it thrives on stability. "This town's a sandbox," says public relations maven Tom Doody. "And it's always the same kids playing." Most such players assume that anyone who hasn't gone coastal by his or her mid-30s will be around for the next three decades--a healthy environment for extending long-term favor credit, the backbone of Chicago's favor economy. What's more, with so many of the powerful heavily vested in the system, if one among them hits a rocky patch, his favor creditors react in the same way as major banks when an important Third World country teeters on the edge--almost any measure will be taken to forestall an economic collapse.

By comparison, the transient players in Washington, D.C., operate on a much harsher barter system. "For people from Chicago it can be very uncomfortable," says political consultant Kitty Kurth, who worked in the capital as a Democratic operative for three years. "Nobody offers to help, because people in D.C. feel like it's a zero-sum game--that every time someone else gains, they lose somehow." Though New Yorkers are more likely to stay put than the Beltway types, Gotham operates more purely on power and the perception of power, which can disrupt the smooth trading of favors. "In Manhattan, when a woman divorced a powerful man, it was like she had dropped from the face of the earth," says former New Yorker Maureen Smith, of Lake Forest, who is active on many charitable fronts. "In Chicago, those women get credit for what they themselves have done in the past."

As for the other coast, Sun-Times columnist Bill Zwecker says his frequent dealings with the Hollywood hype machine have yielded a valuable lesson. "In Los Angeles you have to cash in favors before a month passes," he says, exaggerating, but not by much. "People in Chicago have elephant memories when it comes to favors."

In setting out to write the unwritten laws of the favor game, I interviewed a score of men and women from all over the power grid--socialites, lawyers, politicians, journalists, and business types. Many offered me favors, including: gourmet meals, free office space, a ride to the airport, membership at a prominent downtown club, and the direct-dial numbers of others active on the favors exchange. (I accepted only the numbers.) These sources indicated that although the basic rules apply throughout the Chicago area, etiquette varies depending on the milieu. A favor granted in a North Shore drawing room, for example, may arrive with such patrician noblesse oblige that it hardly seems a favor at all, just a spot of pleasantness between pals. In the harder corridors of City Hall, however, there's little ambiguity when a favor has been granted. 

Despite those differing styles, the ablest traders glide easily among Chicago's tight-knit realms of power. "The business and civic worlds are intertwined like an ecosystem," says one Democratic politico. "There's this tight nexus of relationships, and it's all built on favors."

Consider this a prospectus, a rough guide for those considering a foray into the market.
  Rule 1: Never grant a favor expecting a specific payback.

The key to understanding Chicago's favor trade is to accept that it doesn't work on a quid pro quo basis. "That's a totally useless model," says one veteran lawyer. "Even when it's that simple, which is rare, the people involved never see it that way." To be sure, new acquaintances might exchange minor favors, and monitor repayment closely. But in time only the big favors matter, and they get offered with a karmic assumption that sometime, somehow, something good will happen in return. "When you do favors for people, it's like putting together a chemical reaction," says River North developer Al Friedman. "You set it in motion without ever knowing what will happen."

Friedman cites a recent example of the favor economy paying off. Not long ago, the family of the late real estate mogul Lee Miglin approached him out of the blue and asked whether he would work with them to continue Miglin's legacy of development. A business partnership arose from those initial meetings. Apparently, someone had vouched for Friedman. "To this day, I have no idea who [the Miglin family] spoke with," he says, "but the kind word was probably based on something I did years ago."

Further undermining the quid pro quo model, smart favor traders rarely cash in their favors for themselves. Instead, they leverage their good deeds to help out someone they are courting. But this is hardly serial altruism, says one Republican congressional aide: "It's just people spinning this huge spider-web matrix with themselves at the center." 

By constantly creating new indebtedness and new credit, says media lawyer Burton Joseph, players extend their tendrils in every possible direction. To Joseph, Chicago culture czarina Lois Weisberg epitomizes this style of playing the favor game. "What she does is never about enriching herself," Joseph says, "but eventually all those chickens come home to roost." 

A broker might call this diversifying your portfolio. Al Friedman puts it this way: "Always make a friend before you need a friend."