The most valuable company on earth.
In August 2000, General Electric was worth roughly $600 billion — the most valuable company in the world. Founded by Thomas Edison in 1892, an original member of the Dow Jones Industrial Average and part of the index continuously since 1907, GE was the conglomerate other conglomerates were measured against. Investors paid a premium for the GE name itself: the assumption that management systems this famous, audited at this scale, simply did not produce surprises.
Buried inside GE Capital sat a business almost nobody discussed on earnings calls: North American Life & Health (NALH), a run-off reinsurance portfolio. Decades earlier, primary insurers had written long-term care (LTC) policies — coverage for nursing homes and assisted living — and NALH had reinsured them. GE had stopped taking on this risk long ago; by management's own description, the book had been in run-off for more than a decade. No new premiums, no growth story. Just a stack of actuarial assumptions, made when the policies were priced, about how long policyholders would live, how much their care would cost, how many would let policies lapse, and what reserves would earn in the meantime.
Long-term care turned out to be one of the worst products the US insurance industry ever priced. People lived longer, claimed more, lapsed less, and interest rates collapsed. Every one of those misses lands on the reserve. The question was never whether the assumptions were wrong — it was who would re-test them, and when.