Within the economy they fuel, favors are more like stocks than cash--their value fluctuates based on outside events. An obvious example: Three years ago, helping a friend get Bulls tickets ranked as about the largest kindness a Chicagoan could extend. Today, you might not feel so thankful for the chance to watch the former champions try to climb out of the cellar.

Another obvious example: any favor granted to Alderman Patrick Huels, once Mayor Daley's main man in the City Council. A few years ago, someone who extended a good deed to Huels could expect a nice return--perhaps even that jackpot, an audience with Hizzoner himself. But since Huels's disgraced 1997 resignation amid corruption allegations, he is hardly in a position to pay back old favors. "Every person has their own 'paper,'" explains one lobbyist who watched Huels's demise up close. "When your power goes down, it's like your currency getting devalued."

The stock analogy also helps explain another key aspect of the system--the eagerness of major players to invest in "comers." A favor granted early on to a rising star can bring a return that vastly eclipses the original investment. "When a new CEO who I know moves to town, I do everything possible to help him," says Scott Hodes, a lawyer and art collector. "I line him up with the right bank, the right law firm, the right accountant--all to grease his path into the tight circles of society. And I call my peers who head various charity boards to say, 'Jack Jones just moved here. If any seats on your board open up, please interview him.'"

Corollary to Rule 2: Smart players protect their favor stock.

In his two terms as secretary of state, the Republican George Ryan--one of the state's premier favor wanglers--built a base of supporters throughout that office's agency. But when Ryan ran for governor last year, some of his appointees feared for their jobs. There seemed no guarantee that those operatives would be retained if millionaire maverick Al Salvi, the Republican running to replace Ryan, won the election.

Luckily for Ryan, Salvi's Democratic opponent, Jesse White, plays the traditional political game. As election day approached, aides from the White and Ryan camps met in secret to strategize on White's behalf, according to one insider. Many Downstate Republican mayors, loyal to Ryan, helped White's bid. On election day, White swamped Salvi. When White then took over the massive state agency, he kept many of Ryan's appointees in place. By saving his operatives' jobs, Ryan had ensured they would remember him gratefully every time they went to work. He had protected his favor capital, allowing it to continue gaining in value.
  Rule 3: Personal and professional favors are interchangeable.

When money is involved, the prudent separate their business and private dealings. With favors, there is hardly a distinction. That's partly because favors are traded in an uncharted netherworld, and partly because so many favors are purely personal--having to do with families, hobbies, sex, and so forth. At every stadium in Chicago, for example, a strong correlation exists between a fan's proximity to the field and the likelihood that a business associate has bought him the seat. Chicago's talk shows likewise draw favor-heavy audiences. "I repay a lot of sources for tips by helping 'Aunt Fay from Des Moines' get Oprah tickets," says Bill Zwecker. "Of course, those tickets sometimes just get passed along to someone else for use as a favor."

Here's an odder example of professional ties yielding personal benefits: When the newly arrived Chicago bureau chief of a magazine needed to get up to speed quickly on local politics, a colleague told him to call Thom Serafin, the political operative and PR man. Serafin helped tutor the newcomer--and in return, on Serafin's wedding night, the bureau chief treated him to the honeymoon suite at the Nikko Hotel (now the Westin) downtown. Serafin sounds a bit like a Zen master when asked about the line between personal and professional favors. "There's always only one self," he explains. "If you try to make that distinction you're a fool."

The children of the powerful often benefit from the favor exchange's business-personal crossover. When Trisha Rooney, daughter of Phil Rooney, one-time chairman of Waste Management Inc., started a storage business, Pat Arbor, then the Board of Trade chairman, threw work her way through his trading firm, Shatkin, Arbor, Karlov & Company. (Indeed, Arbor is practically a placement agency for the next generation. On the day I interviewed him, he had secured a highway crew job for a friend's son. A few days before, he had helped get a kid into the University of Illinois at Chicago, calling on Little Italy powerhouse--and mayoral pal--Oscar D'Angelo for assistance.) The examples of children of the powerful who end up in interesting jobs are too numerous to mention. Those who have landed jobs with the Chicago Bulls staff, for example, include the offspring of both former U.S. Labor Secretary Lynn Martin and William Smithburg, the former chairman of Quaker Oats.

Columnist Bill Zwecker recalls a time when the favor he did for a regular source became particularly personal. It started when the source--a married corporate VIP--called to complain about an item. Talking on his cell phone, Zwecker mentioned that he was en route to interview celebrity sexpot Carmen Electra (the former Mrs. Dennis Rodman). The man cried that he'd love to meet her. So Zwecker invited him to drop by the hotel. "I felt weird about acting as his procurer," says Zwecker. "But he got me some great seats to a game--and, hey, I'm not God's cop." And, of course, it's unlikely that the source would ever deny Zwecker anything down the road.
  Rule 4: Favors are often better than money.

When Donnie Madia decided to open his own restaurant, Blackbird, on Randolph Street, he was rich in nightlife experience. Money was another matter. But in his years controlling the velvet ropes at hot spots such as Vinyl and the Funky Buddha Lounge, Madia had built up a sizable deposit in the favor bank. 

Debtors included many regulars who liked to impress dates by skipping past long door lines. "When I built Blackbird, I burned all the chits I had, on everything from upholstery work to china to payment extensions," he recalls. "Then I went into the hole, and those guys who helped me out early on will always be comped here."

Fortunately for Madia, good tables at hot restaurants carry a high valuation among Chicago's elite--giving him plenty of chances to service his favor debt. By the time he decided to try trademarking the name Blackbird last spring (a New York restaurant had opened using the same name), he got a huge break on legal fees from a customer, a corporate lawyer who enjoyed going in every weekend during the high frenzy of the restaurant's evening rush. Each time, the lawyer and his wife had found themselves seated at their favorite table--no minor miracle given Blackbird's small size.

Surprisingly often, favor traders will turn down cash for a service, preferring to accrue credit. Kitty Kurth explains the logic: "On a small job, if you charge them for it, they'll walk away resenting the cost. If you offer it as a favor, they go off feeling lucky." And, of course, that goodwill can mean references for more business down the road. "People feel indebted when you do things as a favor, so they try to help you out," Kurth says.

Unlike deals based on money, favor transactions have no tidy closure, because you are never quite sure that you're fully paid up, or fully paid back. Of course, that ambiguity keeps the favor economy purring. "Keeping score doesn't work, because favors aren't numerical," explains Thom Serafin. "They're about human relationships, and the back-and-forth is what builds those relationships." What really matters is the churn of favors between two people, not who happens to owe whom at that moment.

Artist Tony Fitzpatrick points out the final reason to take payment in favors: "The Feds can't tax goodwill."