Free Agent Nation

Kinko's founder Paul Orfalea isn't much for fancy titles -- or glossy photos. (He refused to be photographed for this article.) False modesty from a mogul worth an estimated $225 million? Hardly. It is an authentic part of the grassroots spirit that has infused Kinko's since Orfalea began the company 27 years ago.

Orfalea insists that he does not "run" Kinko's. His job, he says, is to "wander and wonder" -- to visit as many of the company's 865 stores as he can, to spend time with coworkers, to soak up innovation, and to communicate new ideas across the Kinko's network. His favorite knowledge-sharing tool is voice mail. If Orfalea is at a Kinko's outlet and he hears about a good idea, he immediately dials into the company's voice-mail system, introduces the coworker who described the idea to him, and lets that person record a message -- which then flows back across the system.

Lately, Orfalea has had a second reason to wander: he wants to reassure the company's 23,000 people that its spirit won't change, even as its structure does. A big investment by Clayton, Dubilier & Rice, announced in June 1996, was a watershed moment for Kinko's -- not only bringing in needed capital but also acting as a force for organizational change.

Clayton Dubilier's "roll-up" plan transformed Kinko's from a decentralized confederation of locally managed stores into a smarter, sleeker, more disciplined global company. In return for its $214 million, the Wall Street firm got about 30% of the company. Orfalea kept an estimated 34%. His 130 partners were allowed to swap holdings in their local operations for shares in the new company.

Now Orfalea's challenge is to make sure that the Kinko's strategic roll-up doesn't roll over the grassroots enthusiasm and creativity that was so crucial to the company's early growth. "You can't take care of your customers unless you take care of your people," he says. "Everyone has good machines. Our coworkers are the only tie-breakers for us. I don't think the old feeling will change too much."

Nor will Orfalea's approach to his job. "People think I'm busier than I am," he jokes. "Basically, I've got this job down to about six hours a week. The rest of the time, I'm wandering."

Welcome to Free Agent, U.S.A.

Federal census takers can't tell you how many people actually live here. Government mapmakers have yet to give it an official location.

But if you go look for it, as I did, you can't miss it. It's out there, from coast to coast, and it's growing every day. The residents of Free Agent, USA are legion: Start with the 14 million self-employed Americans. Consider the 8.3 million Americans who are independent contractors. Factor in the 2.3 million people who find work each day through temporary agencies. Note that in January the IRS expects to mail out more than 74 million copies of Form1099-MISC -- the pay stub of free agents.

So let's hazard a guess. If we add up the self-employed, the independent contractors, the temps -- a working definition of the population of Free Agent Nation -- we end up with more than 16% of the American workforce: roughly 25 million free agents in the United States, people who move from project to project and who work on their own, sometimes for months, sometimes for days.

And if you're looking for a place to start making the map, you can mark Deborah Risi's home in Menlo Park, California. A 40-year-old marketing whiz, Risi worked for many years at companies like Apple Computer and Pacific Bell, climbing her way gracefully through their marketing divisions, securing ever-better positions at ever-higher salaries. Then, about two and a half years ago, she walked out of a company she'd rather not name and reexamined her life. "I looked back on my work history and realized I had never felt really, really good about it," she says. "I had maybe one boss I could both respect and learn from. I was tired of working incredibly hard for companies that lacked leadership and didn't share my values."

So she declared herself a free agent, landed her first client four days later, and hasn't looked back. Today Risi operates out of a room in her house that overflows with computer gear, file cabinets, and a Magic 8-Ball ("my managerial decision-making tool"). She consults on marketing strategy for high-tech giants like Sun Microsystems, Oracle, and Cisco Systems, usually juggling four to six clients at a time and bringing in a lot more money than she earned during her years in corporate America.

She feels more invigorated than she ever did in a traditional job. No surprise there. But -- and this is one of the many counterintuitive truths of Free Agent Nation -- she also feels more secure. She pilots her work life using an instrument panel similar to the one she uses for her investments: plenty of research, solid fundamentals, and most of all, diversification. Just as sensible investors would never sink all their financial capital into one stock, free agents like Risi are questioning the wisdom of investing all their human capital in a single employer. Not only is it more interesting to have six clients instead of one boss; it also may be safer.