Martin Vander Weyer is business editor of The Spectator. He writes the weekly Any Other Business column.
Oh Boy. If you thought the Société Générale saga was beyond belief – today we learn that Eurex, the derivatives exchange, had been trying to warn the French bank for two months about Jerome Kerviel’s extraordinarily large trading volumes – then I invite you to contemplate the £274 million loss clocked up on hedging transactions by Mitchell & Butlers. Oh Boy.
Network Rail’s performance is poor enough to test an archbishop’s patience, writes Martin Vander Weyer The archbishop and I — not having been formally introduced — confined ourselves to an exchange of despairing glances. We were at Doncaster, in the buffet car of the 19.13 from York to King’s Cross, listening to a series of apologetic but hopelessly uninformative bulletins about how long we might be delayed by a signal failure at Finsbury Park. ‘The driver says it’s a waiting game, there’s trains queuing in front and behind,’ was the announcer’s best shot. To add insult to injury, the buffet could not even provide the saintly Dr Sentamu with his preferred tipple — which, I can exclusively reveal, is Guinness.
Since I’m not a Northern rock shareholder, I wasn’t at yesterday’s EGM in Newcastle’s Metro Radio Arena – so I’m grateful to Graeme Wearden on the Guardian’s NewsBlog for a blow-by-blow account of the proceedings. A lot of ‘north-east (hurt?) pride’ was on display, he writes, as well as some natty shirting worn by the two hedge fund managers who have made themselves central to the story, Philip Richards of RAB Capital and Jon Wood of SRM. In the chair, trying to get the audience on his side with a joke about having the second toughest job in Newcastle (the worst, of course, being manager of the troubled football club), was Bryan Sanderson, the ex BP executive who was parachuted in after Dr Matt Ridley did the decent thing and resigned.
‘Should we blame it all on City spivs?’ I asked a managing director of a famous investment bank at a pre-Christmas party. He had just told me – with the smile of a man who can look forward to yet another seven-figure bonus in a few weeks’ time – that his firm was still doing very nicely thank you. It was doing so, he continued in the same breath despite the fact that the economy was going to hell – and his forecast for the state of the nation’s, rather than his own, wealth in 2008 was as startlingly downbeat and bluntly phrased as any I have yet heard in this winter of doomsaying.
Tuesday’s announcement that the Treasury will guarantee lending from other banks to Northern Rock is last ditch bid to avoid having to nationalise the bank. But in truth, most of the best options were closed off by inaction back in September. National Rock? With the announcement this morning of a further extension of the scope of the Treasury’s guarantee of Northern Rock liabilities, nationalization of the crippled mortgage lender looks an even stronger bet than it did yesterday. The guarantee, you may remember, initially covered only the £24 billion or so of retail deposits made before everything went pear-shaped and panic-stricken in September. Then the guarantee was extended to cover new deposits after that date and some wholesale deposits.
The last Lord Ribblesdale, who died in 1925, is remembered chiefly as the subject of a remarkable portrait, known as ‘The Ancestor’, by John Singer Sargent. For those who enjoy the byways of social history, this tall, unmistakably aristocratic figure in late-Victorian hunting garb is also remembered for other things: he was a celebrated amateur boxer capable, it was said, of knocking out any man in the House of Lords; he was a long-time denizen of Rosa Lewis’s louche Cavendish Hotel in Jermyn Street; George Bernard Shaw is believed to have used him as the model for Professor Higgins in Pygmalion; and he surprised London society in 1919 by marrying as his second wife the former Mrs John Jacob Astor, née Ava Willing of Philadelphia.
‘How’s business?’ I asked the Mr Big of commercial property in a city somewhere north of Watford Gap last week. I won’t say which city, because this Mr Big is so big there – his logo is on office block after office block – that he would be instantly identifiable. ‘I’m a buyer for the first time in 18 months,’ he replied, rather to my surprise. ‘Prices have been at silly levels, but now they’re anywhere between 10 and 30 per cent off and we can see value. And before all this credit-crunch business the banks gave us a £400 million credit line at 20 basis points [that’s 0.
Does anyone actually resign anymore? Nowadays a resignation is regarded not as a final act but as a temporary career break and that’s bad for business. Paul Gray – the former head of HM Revenue and Customs who ‘resigned’ two weeks ago after someone in his department posted the names, addresses and bank details of millions of citizens to another bureaucrat and it never arrived – has ‘returned to work for the government’, according to a Channel 4 News and The Guardian . The mandarin who fell on his sword has miraculously bounced off it again and into a £200,000-a-year post in the Cabinet Office, where he is said to be involved in a project ‘to develop civil servants’ skills’.
First there was the news of passengers rescued from lifeboats in Antarctica as their cruise ship went down after hitting an iceberg. Then Tim Price, our guest Investment columnist this week, reminded me of ex-Citigroup chief Chuck Prince’s observation about dancing as long as the music keeps playing. Then at a wedding on Saturday, a Welsh male voice choir sang the Celine Dion hit My Heart Will Go On: a charming sentiment, I agree, but also the theme song from a certain epic disaster film — and you must have guessed by now which way my thoughts have been moving. As I stagger from one glittering pre-Christmas social event to the next, I can’t help wondering whether we’re all now dancing in the first-class saloon of the Titanic.
Is it time for a reassessment of Sir Richard Branson? Chosen by the Treasury as the ‘preferred bidder’ for Northern Rock, he’s back where he craves to be and so often manages to put himself: in the headlines. And like every time he grabs the nation’s attention, two quite different caricatures of him have been projected. On the one hand, there is the tirelessly creative, totally unconventional adventurer-entrepreneur whose brand image can sell anything and whose two-fingers-to-stuffy-old-corporate-capitalism has such powerful appeal to consumers even after many of them have had rotten experiences of his trains and his mobile phone service.
With Alistair Darling coming under increasing pressure after the loss of the personal data of twenty-five million people by Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, Martin Vander Weyer reviews how Darling and Gordon Brown have also moved into the firing line in the whole Northern Rock debacle. They along with its employees and shareholders now have the most to fear from the crisis. No one seriously argued, ab initio, that the Northern Rock fiasco was the government’s fault.
Is prison reform an economic issue, as well as a moral and social one? Well, if it’s uppermost in my mind and this column, then it must be — and it holds both of those positions this week not so much in response to the news that ex-jailbird Jonathan Aitken is to head a Tory ‘taskforce’ on the subject, but because I too have recently spent time inside. In fact I spent last Saturday morning in HM Prison Kirklevington Grange in Cleveland — where I was startled to find half the inmates had gone out for the day. Kirklevington is a Category C closed prison, which means it has a high fence and locked gates, but it is also one of only three specialist resettlement prisons in England.
I like to think I was the first (indeed I may have been the only) journalist to have been invited to climb the scaffolding under the clock at St Pancras station. That was back at the beginning of May, when the refurbishment of what is, from today, London’s Eurostar terminus still had a little over six months to go. The whole place was a mighty confusion of construction activity, large-scale and small, high-tech and low: I remember watching a man pouring what looked like hot tar for the floor surface of the main entrance out of the corner of a battered old wheelbarrow.
Rail delays are a daily fact of life, but Grand Central’s ghost train has set new records. Due to depart from Sunderland last December, it has yet to pass York en route to King’s Cross. I’ve read the timetable — three services a day north and south. I’ve read the BBC travel website, which reports that as far as ‘current disruption and engineering works’ go, Grand Central has ‘no incidents to report’. I’ve heard about the simplified, value-for-money fare structure — including a 50 per cent refund if no seat is available — and the personalised park ’n’ ride service.
‘A triumph for the European Commission’ (as USA Today chose to describe it) is not something usually to be celebrated here. But yesterday’s finding by the European Court of Justice against Germany’s ‘VW law’ – protecting Volkswagen against takeover via a blocking minority vote held by the state – really does look like a blow for greater dynamism, industrial synergy, and efficient use of capital throughout Europe. In Britain, the golden share was used to allow the government a continuing hand in the destiny of privatized businesses – but this ruling seems to mean that the device has finally had its day.
The concentrated aroma of — how shall I put it — deep piggy doo-doo that wafts through your car window as you motor up the A1 through North Yorkshire is, in normal times, nothing more nor less than the smell of money. So I was taken aback to hear a farmer from that part of the county declare that if prices carry on the way they’re going, ‘it’ll be time to shoot the pigs’. We will hear shortly from Merryn Somerset Webb, in our Investment column, about how to make money in ‘soft commodities’ — in which dabbling by you and me does no harm if it boosts farmers’ income and the value of their land.
Over the past 20 years or so, I have found myself almost continuously on the client side of building contracts, large and small, domestic, corporate and charitable, in four different countries: Britain, France, Hong Kong and Japan.
The proposals in the pre-Budget report were a desperate, knee-jerk response to the swing to the Tories in the polls. Rather than demonstrating Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling’s vision for the country, it revealed their commitment to blatant, vote-chasing expediency. Ultimately, this will make the country think less of them. Martin Vander Weyer There’s a new pair of eyebrows at the forefront of British public life. The Northern-rocked Governor of the Bank of England may have lost all traditional power of his once-splendid superciliary tufts – indeed, he might as well go the whole hog and have the damned things plucked, to discourage further comment – but the new Chancellor of the Exchequer, Alastair Darling, has a set to be reckoned with.
Can we make a link between the chopping of 1,500 jobs, mostly in London and New York, by the Swiss banking giant UBS, and the news that the City of London Corporation has come up with a £300 million contribution to the financing of Crossrail, the long-awaited Heathrow-to-Docklands transport link? Well, connecting unrelated news events on any given day and extracting lessons from them is what columnists are supposed to be for. So let me have a go. The jobs lost at UBS Investment Bank, which include that of its chairman and chief executive Huw Jenkins, are the tip of the iceberg of City redundancies to come this autumn.
When I bumped into Barclays chief executive John Varley at Wimbledon one mid-week afternoon in July, I thought he looked remarkably relaxed for a man locked in a potentially career-breaking takeover battle with his deadliest rival. We had just watched Venus Williams make mincemeat of Maria Sharapova, and perhaps Varley was cheered by the thought that it was possible to lose elegantly and still be loved by the crowd. Certainly I think he must have decided early in the ABN Amro game that he could do no more than play his best shots and pray for his formidable opponent, Sir Fred Goodwin of Royal Bank of Scotland, to be stricken by the market equivalent of agonising groin strain. That didn’t happen, and Goodwin should clinch the deciding set this week.