Showing posts with label big. Show all posts
Showing posts with label big. Show all posts
Monday, 10 April 2023
Thursday, 1 November 2018
Big Business Strikes Again, this Time Through Modi Government's Assault on RBI
The unprecedented invocation of Section 7 is not in enlightened public interest – it is a brazen move to force the RBI to open bank funding to desperate corporates.
Reserve Bank of India Governor Urjit Patel with former governor Raghuram Rajan in the background. Credit: Reuters/Danish Siddiqui
M K Venu in The Wire.In
Reserve Bank of India Governor Urjit Patel with former governor Raghuram Rajan in the background. Credit: Reuters/Danish Siddiqui
The business cronies of this government have done it again. And they manage such coups each time with unfailing precision. This time, the Centre has taken the unprecedented action of sending a direction to Reserve Bank of India (RBI) under Section 7 of the RBI Act, the first step in a process of virtually issuing a diktat that the central bank must do whatever is necessary to resolve the potential credit freeze in the non-banking finance sector and relax norms for lending to small business.
The RBI over the past year placed lending restrictions on weaker banks, where non-performing assets (NPAs) and other warning indicators were much higher than normal, consequently eroding much of their capital. You can be sure once these norms are relaxed by an RBI under duress, bank funds will start flowing again to the cronies directly or indirectly because moneys are essentially fungible.
I’m told that one celebrated big business promoter from Gujarat, who is known to travel with Prime Minister Narendra Modi on official trips abroad, is currently borrowing short-term money at over 18% to meet his past loan servicing needs.
But once RBI relaxes the current stringent lending norms for banks and adequate liquidity is provided to trapped NBFCs, select big business cronies – owing nearly Rs 4 lakh crore to banks – will continue to get access to funds. In any case, these powerful promoters have managed to avoid going into bankruptcy proceedings as mandated by the RBI’s circular of February 12, 2018. Some of the power projects of the Adani Group, Essar, the Tatas and so on, who have repayment overdues of over Rs 1 lakh crore, are currently being given a fresh lease of life.
So make no mistake, the unprecedented invocation of Section 7 of the RBI Act, never done since independence, not even during the financial crises of 1991 or 2008, is not guided by enlightened public interest as the finance ministry may claim.
It is a brazen move to force the RBI to open bank funding to desperate corporates who need to save themselves so that they are also in a position to give the necessary funds to political parties via anonymous electoral bonds.
Also read: Modi Government Invokes Never-Used Powers to Direct RBI Governor: Reports
These corporate groups and their promoters remain immortal and untouched through all regimes. They manage to get a share of juicy defence contracts even while they owe over Rs 1 lakh crore of overdue loans to banks. Modi will also have to answer why a select group of promoters are getting special treatment by avoiding the RBI circular of February 12, 2018. Is there pressure on the central bank to dilute its rule which mandates that all borrowers above a certain level have to enter bankruptcy proceedings? Is a special dispensation being created for cronies?
These questions will surely haunt the Modi regime in the run-up to the 2019 elections. The sheer power exercised by these business houses is now becoming more and more apparent and naked.
Earlier these powerful forces ran a campaign against Raghuram Rajan and ensured he didn’t get an extension because Rajan had sent a list to the prime minister’s office (PMO) of politically-connected promoters who may have fraudulently diverted bank loans for purposes others than the financing of their projects.
Rajan had asked for a multi-agency probe against these errant promoters because RBI felt it alone did not have the wherewithal to do it. An RTI application by The Wire confirms that the list was sent in 2015 and the PMO is refusing to part with it even to a parliamentary committee headed by BJP leader Murli Manohar Joshi after several reminders.
Also read: Exclusive: RTI Confirms Raghuram Rajan Sent Modi List of NPA Defaulters, Action Taken a Secret
So, it is clear the government is hiding something and is now feeling impelled to get rid of the RBI chief by initiating action under the never-before-used Section 7 provision.
RBI governor Urjit Patel cannot heed the Centre’s directive as it would lower the dignity of the institution and erode the integrity of some of the tough decisions that the central bank has taken to clean up the banks and bring errant promoters to their heels. If Patel quits, India will become a laughing stock among global investors and the money markets could see unprecedented volatility. Remember, in his speech last Friday, deputy governor Viral Acharya had invoked the 2010 Argentine example where the central bank governor there resigned in protest after the regime tried to force him to part with the institution’s reserves to fill the government’s fiscal gap. The markets went for a toss after that in Argentina.
There is a strong parallel here as the finance ministry is also coercing the RBI into parting with a part of its contingency reserves (over Rs. 2.5 lakh crore) to meet the Centre’s growing fiscal deficit in an election year. All this is happening under the shadows of high oil prices, a growing current account deficit and a weakening rupee.
If the RBI governor resigns in these circumstances there could be huge repercussions. The invocation of Section 7 of the RBI Act is, therefore, an act of desperation that is bound to boomerang on the Modi government.
The RBI over the past year placed lending restrictions on weaker banks, where non-performing assets (NPAs) and other warning indicators were much higher than normal, consequently eroding much of their capital. You can be sure once these norms are relaxed by an RBI under duress, bank funds will start flowing again to the cronies directly or indirectly because moneys are essentially fungible.
I’m told that one celebrated big business promoter from Gujarat, who is known to travel with Prime Minister Narendra Modi on official trips abroad, is currently borrowing short-term money at over 18% to meet his past loan servicing needs.
But once RBI relaxes the current stringent lending norms for banks and adequate liquidity is provided to trapped NBFCs, select big business cronies – owing nearly Rs 4 lakh crore to banks – will continue to get access to funds. In any case, these powerful promoters have managed to avoid going into bankruptcy proceedings as mandated by the RBI’s circular of February 12, 2018. Some of the power projects of the Adani Group, Essar, the Tatas and so on, who have repayment overdues of over Rs 1 lakh crore, are currently being given a fresh lease of life.
So make no mistake, the unprecedented invocation of Section 7 of the RBI Act, never done since independence, not even during the financial crises of 1991 or 2008, is not guided by enlightened public interest as the finance ministry may claim.
It is a brazen move to force the RBI to open bank funding to desperate corporates who need to save themselves so that they are also in a position to give the necessary funds to political parties via anonymous electoral bonds.
Also read: Modi Government Invokes Never-Used Powers to Direct RBI Governor: Reports
These corporate groups and their promoters remain immortal and untouched through all regimes. They manage to get a share of juicy defence contracts even while they owe over Rs 1 lakh crore of overdue loans to banks. Modi will also have to answer why a select group of promoters are getting special treatment by avoiding the RBI circular of February 12, 2018. Is there pressure on the central bank to dilute its rule which mandates that all borrowers above a certain level have to enter bankruptcy proceedings? Is a special dispensation being created for cronies?
These questions will surely haunt the Modi regime in the run-up to the 2019 elections. The sheer power exercised by these business houses is now becoming more and more apparent and naked.
Earlier these powerful forces ran a campaign against Raghuram Rajan and ensured he didn’t get an extension because Rajan had sent a list to the prime minister’s office (PMO) of politically-connected promoters who may have fraudulently diverted bank loans for purposes others than the financing of their projects.
Rajan had asked for a multi-agency probe against these errant promoters because RBI felt it alone did not have the wherewithal to do it. An RTI application by The Wire confirms that the list was sent in 2015 and the PMO is refusing to part with it even to a parliamentary committee headed by BJP leader Murli Manohar Joshi after several reminders.
Also read: Exclusive: RTI Confirms Raghuram Rajan Sent Modi List of NPA Defaulters, Action Taken a Secret
So, it is clear the government is hiding something and is now feeling impelled to get rid of the RBI chief by initiating action under the never-before-used Section 7 provision.
RBI governor Urjit Patel cannot heed the Centre’s directive as it would lower the dignity of the institution and erode the integrity of some of the tough decisions that the central bank has taken to clean up the banks and bring errant promoters to their heels. If Patel quits, India will become a laughing stock among global investors and the money markets could see unprecedented volatility. Remember, in his speech last Friday, deputy governor Viral Acharya had invoked the 2010 Argentine example where the central bank governor there resigned in protest after the regime tried to force him to part with the institution’s reserves to fill the government’s fiscal gap. The markets went for a toss after that in Argentina.
There is a strong parallel here as the finance ministry is also coercing the RBI into parting with a part of its contingency reserves (over Rs. 2.5 lakh crore) to meet the Centre’s growing fiscal deficit in an election year. All this is happening under the shadows of high oil prices, a growing current account deficit and a weakening rupee.
If the RBI governor resigns in these circumstances there could be huge repercussions. The invocation of Section 7 of the RBI Act is, therefore, an act of desperation that is bound to boomerang on the Modi government.
Sunday, 27 September 2015
VW is further evidence that global business has become a law unto itself
Will Hutton in The Guardian
A well-functioning capitalism has, and will always need, multiple and powerfully embedded checks and balances – not just on its conduct but on how it defines its purpose. Sometimes those checks are strong, uncompromised unions; sometimes tough regulation; sometimes rigorous external shareholders; sometimes independent non-executive directors and sometimes demanding, empowered consumers. Or a combination of all of the above.
CEOs, company boards and their cheerleaders in a culture which so uncritically wants to be pro-business do not welcome any of this: checks and balances get in the way of “wealth generation”. They are dismissed as the work of liberal interferers and apostles of the nanny state.
Germany’s economy has been a good example of how checks and balances work well. But the existential crisis at Volkswagen following its systematic cheating of US regulators over dangerous diesel exhaust emissions shows that any society or company forgets the truth at its peril.
Volkswagen abused the system of which it was part. It became an autocratic fiefdom in which environmental sustainability took second place to production – an approach apparently backed by the majority family shareholder, with no independent scrutiny by other shareholders, regulators, directors or consumers. Even its unions became co-opted to the cause. Worse, the insiders at the top paid themselves, ever more disproportionately, in bonuses linked to metrics that advanced the fiefdom’s interests. But they never had to answer tough questions about whether the fiefdom was on the right track. The capacity to ignore views other than your own, no external sanction and the temptation for boundless self-enrichment can emerge in any capitalism – and when they do the result is toxic. VW, facing astounding fines and costs, may pay with its very existence.
So why did a company with a great brand, passionate belief in engineering excellence and commitment to building great cars knowingly game the American regulatory system, to suppress measured emissions of nitrogen dioxide to a phenomenal degree? Plainly, there were commercial and production benefits. It could thus sell the diesel engines it manufactured for Europe in the much tougher regulatory environment – at least for diesel – of the US and challenge Toyota as the world’s largest car manufacturer. Directors, with their bonuses geared to growth, employment and profits, could become very rich indeed.
Nor did the risks seem so outlandish. It was an open secret that car emission tests are artificial constructs, with special tyres, lubricants and measures to reduce car weight and air drag all allowed with the connivance of the regulators. To create a special piece of software that closed down nitrogen dioxide emissions during a test must have seemed to the executives involved only an extension of this artificiality. In any case, regulations are for busybodies, especially in areas as controversial as climate change and air quality. The software ruse was merely taking the game of cat and mouse between regulator and car maker to another level.
Former CEO Martin Winterkorn, who resigned last week over the scandal, claims he knew nothing of what was going on, blaming a few unnamed executives for making a catastrophic error of judgment. Winterkorn was the consummate German engineer, knowing every dimension of engine performance; if he did not know how the dirty diesel engines of some popular VW brands were successfully passing US emission tests it was only because he chose not to ask. He did not need to. He had the backing of the Porsche family, who own just over 50% per cent of VW’s shares and who agree to vote as a block; the support too of the state of Saxony with a further 20% per cent –and of union members on the supervisory board. Winterkorn could run a company of 600,000, as Süddeutsche Zeitungremarked, as if it were North Korea.
VW is about production and jobs which trumps concerns about environmental sustainability – a culture than unites unions as much as the Porsche family. And Winterkorn was its standardbearer, leading the charge against the tightening of EU emission regulations – urging weaker targets and a longer timetable. Despite a vast R and D budget, VW is far from a leader in the electrical car or hybrid market. Mr Winterkorn’s bonuses were based on his capacity to deliver production, jobs and profits: environmental sustainability or engaging with wider stakeholders did not get a look-in.
Make your god the share price, as so many British and US companies do, and you create one basket of problems – under-investment, excess deal-making and cutting corners. Abuse the stakeholder system, as did VW, and make your god production on any terms, damning the concerns of outsiders as irrelevant, and your end can be equally grisly. Capitalism, in short, may have boundless creative and innovative energy – but it also has boundless ways to go wrong. Intriguingly, recent work by a group of researchers at Harvard and the London Business School compared 90 American companies that took sustainability seriously with 90 who did not. Over 18 years the 90 committed to sustainability delivered annual financial returns 4.8% higher than the other 90.
In order to deliver sustainability they had to organise themselves around a core purpose, and then embed checks and balances to keep themselves honest. They shaped the way they were governed to open up to outside stakeholders with whom they checked their strategy. Their reporting measures embraced many metrics beyond share price and they rewarded directors for meeting them. Sustainability was a route to more open governance and rounded strategy – and it delivered.
VW did not believe in this any more than the British government does, now steadily rolling back “green crap” and efforts to promote sustainability as “anti-enterprise”. Transport secretary Patrick McLoughlin, under fire for doing nothing when he was sent the same damning report as the Americans 11 months ago, will have known that in Tory terms there would be no rewards for being cast as a bleeding-heart green. Enterprise is about getting regulators off car-makers’ backs and disempowering meddling stakeholders, especially trade unions.
Yet nor is it right in Corbynesque style to damn capitalism with a reflex call for stronger unions and public ownership. The government of Saxony and union members of VW’s supervisory board proved ineffective whistleblowers. They were not sufficiently interested in human betterment or the fatal consequences of excess nitrogen dioxide emissions. They just wanted jobs at any cost. Checks and balances alone don’t work: they have to be animated by an honest acceptance of mutual responsibility between firms and society – a moral ethic that must inform unions, regulators, shareholders and systems of corporate governance alike. VW lost the plot. But so, in a more profound way, have both the apologists and critics of western capitalism.
A well-functioning capitalism has, and will always need, multiple and powerfully embedded checks and balances – not just on its conduct but on how it defines its purpose. Sometimes those checks are strong, uncompromised unions; sometimes tough regulation; sometimes rigorous external shareholders; sometimes independent non-executive directors and sometimes demanding, empowered consumers. Or a combination of all of the above.
CEOs, company boards and their cheerleaders in a culture which so uncritically wants to be pro-business do not welcome any of this: checks and balances get in the way of “wealth generation”. They are dismissed as the work of liberal interferers and apostles of the nanny state.
Germany’s economy has been a good example of how checks and balances work well. But the existential crisis at Volkswagen following its systematic cheating of US regulators over dangerous diesel exhaust emissions shows that any society or company forgets the truth at its peril.
Volkswagen abused the system of which it was part. It became an autocratic fiefdom in which environmental sustainability took second place to production – an approach apparently backed by the majority family shareholder, with no independent scrutiny by other shareholders, regulators, directors or consumers. Even its unions became co-opted to the cause. Worse, the insiders at the top paid themselves, ever more disproportionately, in bonuses linked to metrics that advanced the fiefdom’s interests. But they never had to answer tough questions about whether the fiefdom was on the right track. The capacity to ignore views other than your own, no external sanction and the temptation for boundless self-enrichment can emerge in any capitalism – and when they do the result is toxic. VW, facing astounding fines and costs, may pay with its very existence.
So why did a company with a great brand, passionate belief in engineering excellence and commitment to building great cars knowingly game the American regulatory system, to suppress measured emissions of nitrogen dioxide to a phenomenal degree? Plainly, there were commercial and production benefits. It could thus sell the diesel engines it manufactured for Europe in the much tougher regulatory environment – at least for diesel – of the US and challenge Toyota as the world’s largest car manufacturer. Directors, with their bonuses geared to growth, employment and profits, could become very rich indeed.
Nor did the risks seem so outlandish. It was an open secret that car emission tests are artificial constructs, with special tyres, lubricants and measures to reduce car weight and air drag all allowed with the connivance of the regulators. To create a special piece of software that closed down nitrogen dioxide emissions during a test must have seemed to the executives involved only an extension of this artificiality. In any case, regulations are for busybodies, especially in areas as controversial as climate change and air quality. The software ruse was merely taking the game of cat and mouse between regulator and car maker to another level.
Former CEO Martin Winterkorn, who resigned last week over the scandal, claims he knew nothing of what was going on, blaming a few unnamed executives for making a catastrophic error of judgment. Winterkorn was the consummate German engineer, knowing every dimension of engine performance; if he did not know how the dirty diesel engines of some popular VW brands were successfully passing US emission tests it was only because he chose not to ask. He did not need to. He had the backing of the Porsche family, who own just over 50% per cent of VW’s shares and who agree to vote as a block; the support too of the state of Saxony with a further 20% per cent –and of union members on the supervisory board. Winterkorn could run a company of 600,000, as Süddeutsche Zeitungremarked, as if it were North Korea.
VW is about production and jobs which trumps concerns about environmental sustainability – a culture than unites unions as much as the Porsche family. And Winterkorn was its standardbearer, leading the charge against the tightening of EU emission regulations – urging weaker targets and a longer timetable. Despite a vast R and D budget, VW is far from a leader in the electrical car or hybrid market. Mr Winterkorn’s bonuses were based on his capacity to deliver production, jobs and profits: environmental sustainability or engaging with wider stakeholders did not get a look-in.
Make your god the share price, as so many British and US companies do, and you create one basket of problems – under-investment, excess deal-making and cutting corners. Abuse the stakeholder system, as did VW, and make your god production on any terms, damning the concerns of outsiders as irrelevant, and your end can be equally grisly. Capitalism, in short, may have boundless creative and innovative energy – but it also has boundless ways to go wrong. Intriguingly, recent work by a group of researchers at Harvard and the London Business School compared 90 American companies that took sustainability seriously with 90 who did not. Over 18 years the 90 committed to sustainability delivered annual financial returns 4.8% higher than the other 90.
In order to deliver sustainability they had to organise themselves around a core purpose, and then embed checks and balances to keep themselves honest. They shaped the way they were governed to open up to outside stakeholders with whom they checked their strategy. Their reporting measures embraced many metrics beyond share price and they rewarded directors for meeting them. Sustainability was a route to more open governance and rounded strategy – and it delivered.
VW did not believe in this any more than the British government does, now steadily rolling back “green crap” and efforts to promote sustainability as “anti-enterprise”. Transport secretary Patrick McLoughlin, under fire for doing nothing when he was sent the same damning report as the Americans 11 months ago, will have known that in Tory terms there would be no rewards for being cast as a bleeding-heart green. Enterprise is about getting regulators off car-makers’ backs and disempowering meddling stakeholders, especially trade unions.
Yet nor is it right in Corbynesque style to damn capitalism with a reflex call for stronger unions and public ownership. The government of Saxony and union members of VW’s supervisory board proved ineffective whistleblowers. They were not sufficiently interested in human betterment or the fatal consequences of excess nitrogen dioxide emissions. They just wanted jobs at any cost. Checks and balances alone don’t work: they have to be animated by an honest acceptance of mutual responsibility between firms and society – a moral ethic that must inform unions, regulators, shareholders and systems of corporate governance alike. VW lost the plot. But so, in a more profound way, have both the apologists and critics of western capitalism.
Sunday, 12 January 2014
Powerful lobbyists and fawning ministers are corroding society
The lack of regulation and legislation for which wealthy lobbyists press is mostly a form of welfare for big business
The UK drinks industry lobbied vigorously against a minimum price. Photograph: Johnny Green/PA
It was a classic exchange. Neil Goulden, chair of the Association of British Bookmakers, did his best to defend the indefensible. We must place the problem of addictive fixed-odds betting machines in context, he told Radio 4's Today programme last week. They constitute only a small part of the industry's total revenues; there are very few problem gamblers. Britain has the best regulated and most socially responsible gaming industry in the world. Obviously voluntary efforts, which had already achieved much, needed to go further. But there was no need for more intervention.
Later, in the House of Commons, the prime minister, keenly aware that Ed Miliband has thrived when combining the cost of living crisis with example after example of predatory capitalism, was not going to allow himself to be painted as the friend of the betting and casino industries. But equally, he had to keep alive his deep conviction that regulation, always " burdensome", should be avoided as a matter of principle and, if conceded, kept as minimal as possible.
Yes, he understood the leader of the opposition's concern that ordinary high-street betting shops were being turned into mini-casinos via these machines and were proliferating in some of the most deprived parts of the country. But a "review", he claimed, of unspecified provenance was under way. There was no need to support the Labour party's proposals. The issue was kicked into the long grass.
Last week witnessed a procession of examples where successive industries demonstrated their unnerving and effective capacity to block efforts at making them work more in the social and public interest. The British Medical Journal revealed in a powerful article that the UK drinks industry had enjoyed no fewer than 130 meetings with ministers in the run-up to last July's abandonment of the commitment to set a minimum price of 40p for an unit of alcohol. The evidence from Sheffield University's alcohol research department is unambiguous: the higher the price, the less is consumed, lowering crime and death rates alike.
Yet purposeful intervention even for these high stakes is not what Conservative ministers or rightwing thinktanks believe in. Better a world of voluntary codes of practice and forums promoting responsibility than anything with teeth that might "burden" business or – shedding crocodile tears – "penalise the poor". Indeed, it was in precisely those terms that the health secretary, Jeremy Hunt, discussed minimum alcohol pricing with Asda chief executive, Andy Clarke. In case we were in any doubt, the public health minister, Jane Ellison, spelled out the Conservative position, preferring a " collaborative approach on public health" in a "voluntary way" in which business is a "partner".
Collaboration, voluntary, partnership and social responsibility are good words. Regulation, legislation, quotas and tax are bad words, for, it is alleged, these are just the sort of things to raise prices and disadvantage hard-pressed consumers. Thus already the sugar industry, confronting the newly created Action on Sugar Campaign to lower the sugar content in food, is reaching for the same Goulden armament. British housebuilders, fighting off proposals to landscape new developments so that rainwater runs off naturally, plead that house prices will rise as a result, and thus four years after the 2010 Flood Defence Act, requiring such development to improve our much-depleted flood defences, there is still no agreement.
Part of the problem is that in the indiscriminate drive to create a smaller government, the Department of the Environment, reeling from cuts, has not the manpower to follow through on legislation. But the problem is made worse because the environment secretary, Owen Paterson, believes, like Jeremy Hunt at health and many other colleagues, that essentially their job is to do whatever business says.
Obviously in a capitalist economy, private business is a principal driver of growth. Great entrepreneurship in action is fabulous, but crucially it never emerges from private action alone. There is always some pubic agency involved in, and often leading, the risk-taking. Yet the fiction of our times is that all business is entrepreneurial, all business aims to behave well, all business accepts that it should pay the social costs of its activities and that any effort to shape business activity is counterproductive. These are the propositions that underpin the stance of the business lobbyist – and of the minister welcoming him or her. The public, if it only knew, would surely despair.
The lack of regulation and legislation for which the business lobbyists press is rarely to support entrepreneurship; in most instances, it is a sophisticated form of corporate welfare. It will not be British bookmakers who pick up the costs of addictive gambling in welfare bills and housing benefit; no drinks company will foot the NHS's bill for alcohol-related illness or police bill for crime; no sugar company the bill for obesity. Housebuilders will cheerfully direct rainwater cheaply into the sewerage system and the water companies will then raise water charges and expect state guarantees for improving the system.
The deal is clear: pass on the maximum cost to the state, minimise one's own obligations including tax payments, and insist anything else will cost jobs and penalise consumers. Corporate welfare works. Bookmaker William Hill, for example, declares £293m profit on a turnover of £1.3bn, and pays a mere £48m in tax. Drinks multinational Diageo pays £66m of UK tax on its £1.75 bn of UK turnover. Executive pay is stunning; indeed, it even provoked a shareholder revolt at William Hill last year.
The low regulation lobby is in effect creating high-return, low-risk business fiefdoms largely free of social and public obligations. Worse, shareholders and investors set these returns against what they might expect investing in frontier technologies and innovation. Why do that when you can make more certain and higher profits in pay-day lending, bookmaking or the drinks business? The Cameron-Osborne-Hunt-Paterson mantra leads straight to a low innovation economy and a high-stress, low-wellbeing society, while offering unnecessarily high returns to those at the top.
Reality is very different. Business is part of the society in which it trades. Regulation and legislation, far from burdens, are crucial grit in the capitalist oyster. They are proposed in our democracy because they will reduce public and social costs that otherwise society has to bear. By obliging business to accept the costs it creates, it raises genuine innovation. It is time to call time. We don't want ministers acting as surrogate corporate lobbyists. We need them to fashion a new compact between business and society.
Friday, 21 June 2013
Our banks are not merely out of control. They're beyond control
Jailing reckless bankers is a dangerously incomplete solution. The market is bust. Institutions that are too big to fail are too big to exist
'The banking system is highly dysfunctional, deeply entrenched, and enormously abusive, both to its own workers and the society it operates in.' Photograph: Adrian Dennis/AFP/Getty
Seeing the British establishment struggle with the financial sector is like watching an alcoholic who still resists the idea that something drastic needs to happen for him to turn his life around. Until 2008 there was denial over what finance had become. When a series of bank failures made this impossible, there was widespread anger, leading to the public humiliation of symbolic figures. But the scandals kept coming, and so we entered stage three – what therapists call "bargaining". A broad section of the political class now recognises the need for change but remains unable to see the necessity of a fundamental overhaul. Instead it offers fixes and patches, from tiny increases in leverage ratios tobonus clawbacks and "electrified ring fences".
Today's report by the parliamentary commission on banking standards (to which I gave evidence) is a perfect example of this tendency to fight the symptoms while keeping the dysfunctional system itself intact. The commission, set up after last year's Libor scandal, identifies all the structural problems and nails the fundamental flaw in finance today: "Too many bankers, especially at the most senior levels, have operated in an environment with insufficient personal responsibility." Indeed, as they like to say in the City, running a mega-bank these days is like "Catholicism without a hell", or "playing russian roulette with someone else's head".
In response, the commission proposes jailing reckless bankers. Restoring the link between risk, reward and responsibility is a crucial step towards a robust and stable financial sector. But the report's focus on individual responsibility is also dangerously incomplete because it implies that the sector is merely out of control. This plays into the narrative that things can be fixed by tweaking rules and realigning incentives; in other words, by bargaining.
In reality the financial sector is not out of control. It's beyond control. During the past two years I have interviewed almost 200 people working in finance in London: "front office" bankers with telephone-number bonuses as well as those in "risk and compliance" who are meant to stop them being reckless. I have also spoken to many internal and external accountants, lawyers and consultants.
The picture emerging from those interviews is of big banks not as coherent units run by top bankers who know what they are doing. Instead these banks seem, in the words of Manchester University anthropologist Karel Williams, "loose federations of money-making franchises". One risk analyst talked about her bank as "a nation engaged in perpetual civil war", while a trader said, "You have to understand, it's us against the bank."
I could give 50 similar quotes. Taken together, they leave but one conclusion: employees at the big banks themselves do not believe their top people know what's going on; the big banks have simply become too complex and too big to manage. If this is true, the solution is not so much to jail the top bankers when something goes wrong, it is to break up the banks into manageable parts. But the British establishment still seems incapable of accepting the notion that a bank that is too big to fail or manage is a also bank that is too big to exist.
The same seems to apply to the need to restore market forces in the financial sector: the second source of structural dysfunctionality. Imagine a restaurant had served up product as toxic as that which big banks, credit rating agencies and accountancy firms were churning out until 2008. You would expect that restaurant to have closed. You would also expect new restaurants to have opened up in the area. This is how a free market should work: competition drives out bad practices.
But where are the new credit-rating agencies, accountancy firms or big banks? Even worse, not only are there just four major accountancy firms, they are also financially dependent on the very banks they are supposed to audit critically. It's the same with thethree credit-rating agencies dominating the market.
And it gets worse. Imagine that a restaurant in your neighbourhood made the kind of money paid to top employees in banking, credit-rating and accountancy firms. You'd expect people rushing to open more restaurants, and with that increased competition you'd expect wages to come down. Again, this is how competition works. There are thousands and thousands of young graduates aching to get into investment banking, so no shortage of prospective chefs. So where are the new players in high finance?
The reality is that global high finance is de facto a set of interlocking cartels that divide the market among themselves and use their advantages to keep out competitors. Cartels can extract huge premiums over what would be normal profits in a functioning market, and part of those profits go to keeping the cartel intact: huge PR efforts, a permanent recruiting circus drawing in top academic talent; clever sponsoring of, say, an ambitious politician's cycling scheme; vast lobbying efforts behind the scenes; and highly lucrative second careers for ex-politicians. There is also plenty of money to offer talented regulators three or four times their salary.
Capitalists have an expression for this, and it's "market failure". Here is the source of so many of the perversities in modern finance, and the solution is not only to denounce those who can't resist its temptations, it's to take away those temptations. That probably means smaller banks, smaller and independent accountancy firms and credit-rating agencies, simpler financial products, and much higher capital requirements.
Before studying bankers I spent many years researching Islam and Muslims. I set out with images in my mind of angry bearded men burning American flags, but as the years went by I became more and more optimistic: beyond the frightening rhetoric and sensationalist television footage, ordinary Muslim people go about their day like all other human beings. The problem of radical Islam is smaller and more containable than Islamophobes believe.
With bankers I have experienced an opposite trajectory. I started with the reassuring images in my mind of well-dressed bankers and their lobbyists; surely at some basic level these people knew what they were doing? But after two years I feel myself becoming deeply pessimistic and genuinely terrified. This system is highly dysfunctional, deeply entrenched, and enormously abusive, both to its own workers and the society it operates in. The problem really is exactly as bad as the "banker bashers" believe.
Saturday, 14 January 2012
If everyone did a Worrall Thompson, maybe Tesco wouldn't be too big to fail
Tesco's poor results have led it to review its practices. The self-service tills used by Wozza may be a good place to start
Illustration by Otto
Sad news for Tesco, which this week discovered an unexpected item in its bagging area. The rogue element has since been identified as "awful Christmas sales and a profits warning", and the company's chief executive Philip Clarke now appears to be having problems removing this item before continuing with Tesco's hitherto unstoppable rise. I do hope he has to wait a long time for assistance.
Britain ceased to be a nation of shopkeepers some time ago, as the local independent stores had the life bled out of them by the supermarket giants. But we're a nation of shoppers, and perhaps this two fingers to the daddy of them all is our retail version of the Arab spring. Watching the suddenly humble Clarke promising to address product quality, customer service and "longstanding business issues" rather put one in mind of a besieged dictator. "Wait!" is the despot's reaction to increasingly volatile protests. "I am literally just about to introduce a raft of democratic reforms!"
It will take rather more than Clarke's needy mea culpa to reverse the perception that Tesco stands for everything that is monolithic, mercilessly expansionist, and machine driven. Tesco is a place that people more principled than myself probably manage to avoid entirely, but into which most of us feel compelled to go fairly frequently because it's nearby, or because it has effectively shut down any alternatives.
For a long time, criticism of it was crushed by that pat little assertion that it was "what the people wanted". Tesco executives and their defenders appeared to be graduates of the Richard Desmond school of debate, which is to paint anyone who questions your methods as snobs or enemies of enterprise. They acted as if everyone criticising Tesco must have the luxury of shopping at Waitrose or M&S, when this week's evidence has revealed that they might just as easily get their goods at Aldi or Lidl.
Thus the unthinkable has happened. And now that Tesco appears to be not so much what the people want, what precisely does it have going for it?
Its expansion has certainly told us little we did not already know about this septic isle, merely throwing into even sharper relief the iniquities of such institutions as council planning departments. Countless ordinary citizens have tales of their applications to make minuscule home improvements being rejected, while mock Tudor Tesco superstores are waved through with as many clock towers and metal-effect weather vanes as their architects care to spike them with. Since the 90s, 200 have been plonked down like spaceships, pulling customers off high streets with their seemingly irresistible tractor beams. Yet we now discover that these behemoths are among the "less potent" parts of Tesco's enterprise. Whether scarcely 15 years of rapacious profits was worth leaving a blight of potential white elephants scattered across the countryside, only time will show.
But it is in the area of employment, and its effect on customer service, that the Tesco modus operandi has been most pernicious. There are few sights in modern retail more pathetic, in the true sense of that word, than that of the lone, low-paid human charged with overriding technical glitches in the banks of self-service tills that have already claimed the jobs of countless check-out assistants, knowing that they will soon enough claim theirs. (Eighteen months ago, Tesco began trialling a stall with no manned checkouts at all, merely the single overseer.) Given the Japanese government is investing heavily in technology that could provide robot care for the elderly, it seems a likely bet that Tesco hopes one day to have its shelves robotically stacked, and even the automated till supervisors replaced by customer service droids. A similar process of dehumanisation has been afoot in car plants, but few of us have the occasion to pass through those very often. Nowhere is the rise of the machine at the expense of human employment more evident than in supermarkets such as Tesco. It is an everyday dystopia.
What is to be done? Oddly enough, perhaps one mad answer lies in the other Tesco-related story of the week. Just possibly – and obviously entirely unwittingly – shoplifting chef Antony Worrall Thompson has suggested an act of civil disobedience. If a critical mass of shoppers were to decide to do a Wozza for moral reasons, then the robotic scanners would become less economically viable than human checkout workers. Pilfering from Tesco would become a political act. However, if your preference is for grandiose schemes that won't involve accepting a police caution before embarking on psychiatric treatment, perhaps we could get up a campaign for a sort of Tesco Tobin tax, in which some tiny percentage of every penny spent in one of their out-of-town stores would be dedicated to reviving Britain's denuded high streets.
That, of course, is about as likely to happen as one of Tesco's machines accepting you've placed your 25g packet of parsley in the bagging area. Alas, Britain's biggest retailer is such a massive part of our economy that it presumably won't be long before someone is explaining that it is too big to fail, in keeping with the vogue for the most rampant capitalists becoming socialists in their many hours of need.
Monday, 31 October 2011
Be strong, be different
30 October 2011, 02:59 PM IST
I like Dhoni. He is a no nonsense guy
and, like Kapil Dev and Saurav Ganguly before him, a fine leader of men.
He is as dignified in defeat as in victory. He was unfazed when England
ignominiously crushed us recently, and the Indian team (fresh from
winning the World Cup) became the butt of all jokes. He came back and
led India to a spectacular 5-0 win in the one-day series against the
same England, just to prove cricket isn’t only about winning. It’s a
game where defeat teaches you your best lessons so that you can go back
and beat the hell out of your tormenters.
But what I like most about Dhoni are two other things. One: He speaks little and always to the point. His game talks for him. His decisions, inexplicable and flawed at times, are never defended, rarely argued over. He simply sets things right the next time. More important, he never plays to the gallery and has no desire to be anointed God, neither by his fans nor fawning sponsors. He remains that ticket checker in Kharagpur station who got lucky and made good. And that precisely is his charm. Neither fame nor money has been able to spoil him. In fact, if you watch his ads, you will figure how ill at ease he is before the camera. He’s a man best left alone. To play the game he’s best at.
Dhoni sums it all up in his new ad when he says, “Zindagi mein kuch karna hai to large chhodo, kuch alag karo yaar.” Great lines those, in response to a campaign by a rival brand which exhorted us to Make it Large. Yes, you are right. It’s the same campaign that drew a spoof from UB showing a fake Harbhajan getting whacked by his father for making ball bearings the size of gym balls at his father’s factory and asking if he had made it large. Another spoof has just appeared featuring a fake Saif as the Chhote Nawab who despite all the pomp and regalia never quite makes it large, as the real nawab.
Dhoni’s right. Any idiot can make it large. All you need is pots of money. The more money you have, the more you can go for scale. The less you need to depend on thinking new, thinking smart. Clever guys, on the other hand, put their indelible stamp on history and show us that innovation is at the heart of all success, not size. Henry Ford could have easily built the world’s biggest bicycle plant. Instead, he launched the car. Steve Jobs spent the best years of his life, not in making Apple the biggest in computers, but in enlarging the domain space and bringing out with the world’s smartest music, phone and communication devices. That’s the constant challenge before clever men and women. To think smart. Not big.
But big is what seduces us. It starts, as usual, with the stupidest claim of all. Every schoolboy boasts to others in the locker room: Mine is bigger than yours. Even though every scholar of sex, from Vatsyayan to Havelock Ellis has repeatedly reiterated that size has nothing to do with being a great lover. In fact, big is a joke among the smarter sex. It is never as important as it is made out to be. It is those who can’t afford the best who go for size. The only real yardstick is excellence, how good you are in what you do. And the less you talk about it, the more likely are others to acknowledge it.
Picasso was not a great painter because he painted large canvases. Chaplin wasn’t great because he made big films. Mozart was not a great musician because he composed large symphonies. Tagore was not a great poet because he wrote epics. You can't compare the achievements of Boeing and Airbus with the ingenuity of the Wright brothers. Or the achievements of Nokia and Blackberry with the genius of Guglielmo Marconi. All real achievers think new. Not big. That’s why Dhoni’s advice, even though it’s in an ad where one brand is spoofing the other, finds so much resonance. “Zindagi mein kuch karna hai to large chhodo, kuch alag karo yaar.”
That’s why Dhoni is so special.
But what I like most about Dhoni are two other things. One: He speaks little and always to the point. His game talks for him. His decisions, inexplicable and flawed at times, are never defended, rarely argued over. He simply sets things right the next time. More important, he never plays to the gallery and has no desire to be anointed God, neither by his fans nor fawning sponsors. He remains that ticket checker in Kharagpur station who got lucky and made good. And that precisely is his charm. Neither fame nor money has been able to spoil him. In fact, if you watch his ads, you will figure how ill at ease he is before the camera. He’s a man best left alone. To play the game he’s best at.
Dhoni sums it all up in his new ad when he says, “Zindagi mein kuch karna hai to large chhodo, kuch alag karo yaar.” Great lines those, in response to a campaign by a rival brand which exhorted us to Make it Large. Yes, you are right. It’s the same campaign that drew a spoof from UB showing a fake Harbhajan getting whacked by his father for making ball bearings the size of gym balls at his father’s factory and asking if he had made it large. Another spoof has just appeared featuring a fake Saif as the Chhote Nawab who despite all the pomp and regalia never quite makes it large, as the real nawab.
Dhoni’s right. Any idiot can make it large. All you need is pots of money. The more money you have, the more you can go for scale. The less you need to depend on thinking new, thinking smart. Clever guys, on the other hand, put their indelible stamp on history and show us that innovation is at the heart of all success, not size. Henry Ford could have easily built the world’s biggest bicycle plant. Instead, he launched the car. Steve Jobs spent the best years of his life, not in making Apple the biggest in computers, but in enlarging the domain space and bringing out with the world’s smartest music, phone and communication devices. That’s the constant challenge before clever men and women. To think smart. Not big.
But big is what seduces us. It starts, as usual, with the stupidest claim of all. Every schoolboy boasts to others in the locker room: Mine is bigger than yours. Even though every scholar of sex, from Vatsyayan to Havelock Ellis has repeatedly reiterated that size has nothing to do with being a great lover. In fact, big is a joke among the smarter sex. It is never as important as it is made out to be. It is those who can’t afford the best who go for size. The only real yardstick is excellence, how good you are in what you do. And the less you talk about it, the more likely are others to acknowledge it.
Picasso was not a great painter because he painted large canvases. Chaplin wasn’t great because he made big films. Mozart was not a great musician because he composed large symphonies. Tagore was not a great poet because he wrote epics. You can't compare the achievements of Boeing and Airbus with the ingenuity of the Wright brothers. Or the achievements of Nokia and Blackberry with the genius of Guglielmo Marconi. All real achievers think new. Not big. That’s why Dhoni’s advice, even though it’s in an ad where one brand is spoofing the other, finds so much resonance. “Zindagi mein kuch karna hai to large chhodo, kuch alag karo yaar.”
That’s why Dhoni is so special.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)