My grandmother’s oranges and Frank Hester’s rants

Oranges

My grandmother lived through two world wars and difficult times.  She kept her politics, other than a general sense of fairness and distaste for injustice, close to herself.  I remember it came as a surprise to me when she announced that she made her selection of fresh fruit (oranges if I recall) on the basis that they shouldn’t come from a nation with a pretty toxic regime and social system.  Only a few years later, after discovering marketing during my Stanford MBA, I realised that it should not have been a surprise. It is an essential component of the Escondido Framework that our choices are informed by a wide range of considerations and trade-offs, albeit some may swamp others in their importance, and this affects what we buy.

I recently introduced an old friend who is researching impact investing by charity trustees to a former colleague who is chief executive of one of the largest group of family charitable trusts in the UK.  The old friend is interested in the use of charity endowment to make mission-aligned investments rather than purely for financial yield.  The former colleagues recounted how, as custody of the inherited wealth that the family invests in charitable giving passes from generation to generation, not only does the direction of the charitable giving shift, but also the attitude of the family members towards the non-financial impact of their investment decisions changes.  This should be no surprise either, as impact investment strategies are only a short step beyond avoiding investing in industries that conflict with your charitable purposes (for example, as chair of the finance committee of Versus Arthritis, I had no hesitation in making the case that a health charity should avoid investing in industries like tobacco and alcohol whose businesses contributed to ill-health).

TPP's Frank Hester

TPP’s Frank Hester

So what do I feel about the use by my family doctor (in common with all the GPs in west London and a large part of the NHS community services locally) using SystmOne, one of the most widely deployed electronic patient record systems in the UK?  Most of my fellow patients have no idea that TPP (The Phoenix Partnership), which developed and operated SystmOne, was founded and apparently remains owned exclusively by Frank Hester.  It was Frank Hester, the largest single donor to the Conservative Party, who has been alleged recently to have declared a few years ago at a company gathering that looking at Diane Abbott makes you “want to hate all black women” and that she “should be shot”.  I don’t often have sympathy with Diane[1] who has very different political views to mine and has said some pretty daft and sometimes unpleasant things in the past.  Comments of this type are unacceptable for many reasons and it reflects very badly on the company and its people that he felt able to make them.

I imagine that I will be holding my nose metaphorically when I next sit down in my GP’s consulting room as he or she updates my patient record with the details of my visit.  If I was still chair at West London NHS Trust, where we were in the process of replacing a legacy electronic patient record system with SystmOne  to provide for better interoperability with that used by our primary care partners, I doubt whether the knowledge that SystmOne was provided by a company headed up by someone with such views and that the profits were adding to his wealth would have changed my view of our IT strategy.  Notwithstanding Mr Hester’s unpleasant views, the system produced by his company is the only one in town, or at least in my bit of London.

Whether things might have been different many years ago when TPP was starting out is moot.  I imagine that Mr Hester was more cautious about what he said, how he said it and in whose hearing he said it, even in as recently as 1997.  Certainly, I don’t recall being any less sensitive to boorish, racist and sexist language then, or my NHS colleagues being any less easily offended. But a generation on, and with the money in the bank and the software widely adopted, the customer (and ultimately their patients) has far less choice.  Reflecting on this episode in Escondido Framework terms, the shape of the market interfaces have changed.  How Frank Hester behaves, which has a bearing on how he does business, has almost certainly changed.  Given the strength of his product with its customers and its established position against its competitors, he can (despite the widespread negative reaction his comments received) say unpleasant things without it affecting his business. For those of us who metaphorically are holding our noses, we have fewer degrees of freedom in our decision taking than we might have had many years ago if presented with a prospective supplier who acted in such a way (rather than exercising the restraint that was probably the case when Frank Hester was starting out with TPP in the late nineties).

[1] ……although I am entertained by the memory of serving with her as a fellow member of the Joint Academic Committee in  the History Faculty at Cambridge University in 1974, when she (it can have been nobody else) described me in a student newspaper as “rather too obviously a Cambridge politician on the make” – wonderfully ironic given that she became the career politician whereas I made my escape from politics in the 1980s.

“If you read only one business book this year, read this”

Patrick Nash, author of Creating Social Enterprise
Patrick Nash, author of Creating Social Enterprise[1]
I knew very little about Patrick Nash when he joined me in 2019 as an angel investor and advisor at Tranquiliti, a start-up providing an innovative mobile phone app mental wellbeing tool for school students and their teachers.  I didn’t know much more when we were bought out in August last year by Tes Investments[2], other than what I gleaned from our monthly video call with George and Aaron, Tranquiliti’s founders, which was essentially that Patrick knows a thing or two about social enterprises.  He proved a source of sound advice to them and had a similar appetite for risk and the level of investment as me.

A couple of weeks ago, he invited me to a book launch in November.  I explained that I would be travelling to New York but promised to buy the book and read it on the plane.  Amazon already had “Creating Social Enterprise” in stock and a train journey created the opportunity to get stuck into it right away.  It proved hard to put down and I quickly concluded that it deserves the “If you read only one business book this year, read this” accolade. Scrutiny of the spine shows the publisher to be Patrick’s own company[3], so I doubt whether it will get the push (although it would from any self-respecting business book publisher) in the direction of the shortlisting for FT Book of the Year 2024 that it deserves .

While I was studying for an MBA at the Stanford University Graduate School of Business and serving my apprenticeship at McKinsey, Patrick was doing alternative stuff and getting his first taste of commercial life at Nova[4], a whole food co-operative in Bristol.  He drove the company van, turned the handle on the trail-mix mixer, learnt a range of valuable lessons about people, customers, marketing, margin management, cash-flow, risk, systems implementation – loads that you have still to learn when you graduate from Harvard, Wharton or LBS – and, importantly for his own development, undertook a crash course in double entry book-keeping (something I did learn in the first term at the GSB) from his father when the founder’s ill-health meant he had to step back from the business at short notice.

Scarred by the experience of putting Nova’s stock system onto computer (Patrick’s Learning#8 in the book is “Never Trust  ‘should’” as in “This should work” or “It should be ready by then”) and burnt out by three years without a holiday, he took a spell away from work.   A few months later, he discovered the Findhorn Community.  Most people are drawn to Findhorn in the search for a more spiritual focus to their lives but Patrick was sufficiently intrigued by a conversation with its finance director that he joined it to work in its accounting and finance department.  Rather than finding himself spiritually, he stayed on to lead the project to develop its Ecovillage (the first homes were built from giant whisky barrels), where he “learned much of the complexity of running organisations, raising funds, creating multiple corporate structures and leading teams”.  During his ten years with Findhorn, Patrick learned a lot more about running a successful business, not least about managing external and internal stakeholders.  He describes this time as a “significant phase in my social enterprise journey.  Many of the skills I have deployed as a social entrepreneur were developed there”.  But lessons and consequent skills are not just for the social entrepreneur, most of them translate into any enterprise, public or private, large or small, and independent of industrial sector.

Although Patrick has established twelve social enterprises, charities and values-driven businesses in all, his greatest achievement was establishing Connect Assist, a specialised 24/7, outsourced call centre supporting multiple clients from the public, private and third sectors (including Versus Arthritis where I spent 8 years as a trustee), employing over 450 people in a part of south Wales where employment has still not recovered from the demise of coal mining.  The third part of Creating Social Enterprise tells how Patrick developed a string of businesses that evolved into Connect Assist after first joining the Teachers’ Benevolent Fund, a charity operated for the teaching unions.  In this role he took the lead in some tough decisions, including closing TBF’s legacy residential homes for retired teachers (he is the first to call out the case for closing businesses that are loss making and no longer fulfil their purpose) and pivoting the organisation to become a telephone counselling service, setting him on the path towards establishing Connect Assist.

Patrick has great stories to tell, including how, along the way, he had the Dalai Llama as his boss when, for a few years in between the big projects that are the meat of Creating Social Enterprise, he was CEO of the Tibetan Relief Fund.  He tells tales of scrapes with the law as a twenty-something driving a whole-foods van around the country, when the grass roof of a house in the Ecovillage bursting into flames, and the thrill and relief at securing financing for assorted projects at the eleventh hour.  These come across with a freshness as though they only happened yesterday rather than ten, twenty, thirty or even forty years ago.

He has built the account of his career around no fewer than 44 learnings, drawn out at the end of each chapter and recapped at the end of each of the three major sections of Creating Social Enterprise.  Most, if not all, are relevant to anyone who picks up the book.  As someone who preaches the importance of purpose and values to a business (as part of the Dark Matter that makes organisations more than the sum of their parts) I turned the page corner down at Learning#3: Align values and commercial  interests.  I did the same at Learning#38: Empathy is the new superpower, as I have no doubt that being able “to understand another person’s thoughts and feeling is a situation from their point of view, rather than your own” is essential to effective leadership based on trust.  And his observance of the final sign-off learning, Learning#44: Moving on when it’s time to leave was the one that positioned Patrick for  life after Connect Assist where, from the comfort of home on the Pembrokeshire coast, he could join me in our support to the  young founders of Tranquiliti and find time to write Creating Social Enterprise.

 

 

[1] ISBN 978-1-3999-47-6  www.creatingsocialenterprise.o.uk

[2] Tes invests in fast-growing tech to transform pupil wellbeing | Tes

[3] Enterprise Values – Enterprise Values

[4] Still thriving: see Essential Trading Co-operative Ltd | Welcome (essential-trading.coop)

 

 

 

 

“It’s the investors’ fault, not ours”

Tulchan State of Stewardship Report

Financial communications company Tulchan’s State of Stewardship report, capturing the views of 35 FTSE company chairs (26 from FTSE 100), makes depressing reading.   “Many of the chairs interviewed for this report conveyed a sense of deep unease at what they feel is a lack of alignment between their objectives and those of their shareholders” writes Mark Burgess, a Tulchan Communications partner, in the foreword to the report.  And whose fault is this?  According to the commentary and the chair’s quotes scattered through the report, it appears to lie with the investors.

“The report suggests….that we should recognise that board are mostly constituted by good people trying to the do the right thing for the good of their stakeholders., and invites shareholders overseeing them to start by assuming positive intent, placing accountability for stewardship where it belongs;[1] in the boardroom and working together to improve conditions for growth”.

This is a bit like a sales and marketing director blaming customers for not buying their products or services.  No, you need to design your offering to meet customers’ needs, and your advertising agency (Tulchan’s equivalent in the consumer marketplace) should shape your messages to so that they demonstrate how your offer will address those needs.

Shareholders don’t “oversee” boards.  Boards are accountable to shareholders, and to other stakeholders too.  Their companies have a duty to provide returns that are sufficiently attractive to shareholders in terms of the balance of capital growth, dividend income, risk, timing, and alignment with ethical and any other shareholder concerns.  Folded into risk are concerns about consumer and supplier market movements, competition, government intervention, financial leverage, and investors’ portfolio composition[2].  Get that right, and investors will place a higher value on your shares.  Get it wrong and investors will either sell or, if they believe other directors will provide returns (taking all the dimensions list above into account) that are more attractive to them, replace you.  Boards need to think of their shareholders as customers and shape their offer to them as though they were customers.

[1] Tulchan’s punctuation

[2] Witness the challenge faced by Baillie Gifford needing to unweight its investment in Tesla as the share price took off

Lessons from Emmanuel Faber’s departure from Danone

Danone

On 26th June 2020 99% of the shareholders in Danone voted for it to become an enterprise à mission, or purpose driven company, required not only to generate profit for its shareholders, but do so in a way that it says will benefit its customers’ health and the planet.

Less than nine months later, Emmanuel Faber, Danone’s chief executive and the architect of the new strategy, was ejected by the board in the face of pressure from activist investors.  The FT leader writer observed on 18th March that “a backlash against purpose-driven capitalism was overdue” and that the debacle was “a reminder that distractions from the core goal of making a profit can be dangerous” before concluding that it did “not …. signal that leaders should rein in their ambition to go further and reassert the role of companies in society” and that to “revert now to simplistic and damaging pursuit of crude share-price maximisation would be a mistake.”

The ejection of Faber was not an illustration of the primacy of Friedmanite shareholder value, but an example of a chief executive failure to manage the investor market interface.  We don’t know precisely what the activist investors were thinking, but they were clearly dissatisfied with the returns they were expecting and believed that their investment returns would be increased with a different chief executive.

Under Faber’s successor, the activist investors hope that the value of their investment (in terms of capital growth and dividend returns) will increase as a result of improved internal operational performance and a changed strategy towards the customers at its other market interfaces – including suppliers, employees, consumers, owners of real estate and local communities, regulators, and government (recalling the appetite of the French government to view large domestic consumer businesses as strategic national assets when threatened by acquisition by overseas multinationals).  The choices of the different types of customer will include some consideration of ESG: consumers with an eye to environmental consideration (packaging, use of sustainable resources; employees preferring to work for companies whose conduct they can take pride in; investors wanting to see good governance.  The rhetoric employed by the activist investment customers may reflect discontent with financial returns, but implicitly they are concerned with how the Danone’s mission is translated into strategy and the possibility that Faber’s rhetoric around purpose conceals a lack of grip on operational performance.

The Danone debacle generated further commentary on whether this apparent backlash represented a retreat from “purposeful capitalism”.  John Plender wrote a powerful article for the FT on 4th April reflecting both on the Danone story and on the lessons from the Covid about the impact on stakeholders (particularly suppliers) who were unable to diversify  their risk (unlike investors) when a business hit rocks as the pandemic closed down parts of the economy.  He shared the view, which we addressed during the debate in 2017 on corporate governance reform in the UK, that appointing employee directors (or by implication directors representing any other specific stakeholder group) does not address the governance gaps.  He went on to argue for changes to the incentive models for senior managers to address short-termism and that profit or share value metrics determining them should be supplemented by ESG related metrics.  In short, “stakeholder capitalism must find ways to hold management to account” and that “the prevailing commitment to short-termist shareholder value has undermined corporate resilience.”

Hakan Jankensgard, Associate Professor of Corporate Finance at Lund University responded to Plender in a letter published by the FT on 7th April with an assertion that the firms should adopt the Hippocratic oath since this “would ensure that firms act as good corporate citizens”, with focus on long term profitability and “not become do-gooders picking sides in social debates”.  It is probably a reflection of the challenge of drafting a letter of appropriate length for publication, but some steps in his logic seems to missing.  However, other parts of his letter are compelling, echo arguments within the Escondido Framework view on how firms work and pitfalls in contemporary corporate governance, and are worth producing in full:

“As far as everyone is concerned, shareholders are the root cause of all the troubles afflicting our societies.

“Well, think again.  The real problem today is managerial capitalism – that managers run firms primarily to increase their own wealth and prestige.  A few decades back, managers were busy building wasteful empires, and the shareholder model arrived as a particular remedy for this gross inefficiency.

“Another innovation that arrive about the same time prove more fateful.  It was the idea that managers, if given the right financial incentives, would rediscover their entrepreneurial spirt. It caught on, to say the least.  What it really did, however, was to shift managers’ focus from building empires to extracting wealth through compensation packages.

“As manager took n their new role, they found willing accomplices in a cabal of short-term oriented investors looking for a quick return.  This unfortunate marriage is the problem at the heart of today’s economy as it creates short-termism that adds to long-term risk.”

Understanding Apple’s implausible explanation

Apple logo

 

 

 

 

 

Apple has just announced that it will reduce the commission it charges smaller developers (those who earned less than $1 million last year through the App Store) from 30% to 15%.

As someone with an advisory role and financial interest in just such a business for the past ten years, the explanation provided by Apple’s CEO, Tim Cook, has a hollow ring:

“Small businesses are the backbone of our global economy and the beating heart of innovation and opportunity in communities around the world. We’re launching this program to help small business owners write the next chapter of creativity and prosperity on the App Store, and to build the kind of quality apps our customers love.  The App Store has been an engine of economic growth like none other, creating millions of new jobs and a pathway to entrepreneurship accessible to anyone with a great idea. Our new program carries that progress forward — helping developers fund their small businesses, take risks on new ideas, expand their teams, and continue to make apps that enrich people’s lives.”

The suggestion that this is a natural evolution and being done out of the goodness of Apple’s corporate heart is implausible at best.  The small businesses that rely on the App Store to reach iPhone customer have been “the backbone of the global economy and beating heart of innovation and opportunity” throughout the iPhone’s existence and have put up with being fleeced.  The entrepreneurs have funded their businesses, taken risks on new ideas, expanded their teams and made apps that enrich people’s lives without any help from the black shirts* formerly of Infinity Loop, now Apple Park.

The likely explanation is provided by the threat of action from the European Commission, which opened an investigation into Apple’s anti-competitive behaviour in June, and potentially from the US, with Congressional hearings into the monopolistic conduct of the tech giants later in the summer.  This is an illustration of the strategic solution space available to a company being reduced by the prospect of regulatory intervention.

In parallel with this reduction in the price charged to its small customers for using the App Store, Apple revealed at the Congressional hearings something about the shape of the market interface between the App Store and the “customers” who sell through it when it disclosed that it had agreed a 15% commission with Amazon for in-app charges within the Prime Video app.

The interesting question is what happens next.  Apple has had to cave in to the threat of another web behemoth flexing its market power and potential to lobby against it.  It has accepted, so far in part only with the new deal for smaller developers, the political reality of the forces gathering against its abuse of its power over a large slice of the market for apps on mobile phones.  What of the middle-sized App Store developer customers?  How long will it take Apple to develop an implausible but face-saving formulation to explain why it has reduced their commissions too?  Or will it try to tough it out until competition authorities around the world run out of patience and take Apple, and potentially some of the other tech giants, apart in the way they did to the US rail and oil industry over a century ago?

* for the avoidance of doubt, this is a reference to the sartorial style of the late Steve Jobs and his successors and not a comment on either their conduct or politics.

Investors and consumers both need good sustainability reporting

Sustainable fashion? (Financial Times)
Sustainable fashion? (Financial Times)

The FT has been carrying stories for the past two weeks about improving the quality of information provided by companies to their investors on the environmental impact of their activities and the sustainability of their businesses in the face of climate change.  It may just be a coincidence, or it may be a conscious decision of the editorial board, but the Fashion Editor writes in “Life and the Arts” section of the Weekend FT on the same subject under the headline “Sustainable fashion? There’s no such thing”

On 5th November, Erkki Liikanen, Chair of the IFRS Foundation Trustees, delivered the keynote speech at the UNCTAD Intergovernmental Working Group of Experts on International Standards of Accounting and Reporting, introducing the Trustees’ Consultation Paper on Sustainability Reporting.

On 9th November, Rishi Sunak, Chancellor of the Exchequer, delivered a speech to the House of Commons on financial services.  In the course of setting out his plans for supporting the City at the end of the transition period as the UK leaves the EU and plans to launch a Sovereign Green Bond, he declared:

“We’re announcing the UK’s intention to mandate climate disclosures by large companies and financial institutions across our economy, by 2025.

“Going further than recommended by the Taskforce on Climate-related Financial Disclosures.

“And the first G20 country to do so.

“We’re implementing a new ‘green taxonomy’, robustly classifying what we mean by ‘green’ to help firms and investors better understand the impact of their investments on the environment.”

On 10th November, the Financial Reporting Council launched its Statement on Non-Financial Reporting Frameworks, opening with the preamble:

“Climate change is one of the defining issues of our time and, by its nature, material to companies’ long-term success. Boards have a responsibility to consider their impact on the environment and the likely consequences of any business decisions in the long-term. Our 2020 review of climate-related considerations in corporate reporting and auditing found that boards and companies, auditors, professional associations, regulators and standard-setters need to do more.”

before recommending that companies should try to report “against the Task Force on Climate-related Financial Disclosures’ (TCFD) 11 recommended disclosures and, with reference to their sector, using the Sustainability Accounting Standards Board (SASB) metrics” and setting out its own plans over the medium term to help “companies to achieve reporting under TCFD and SASB that meets the needs of investors”.

Today, 14th November, the FT’s fashion editor writes about the dilemmas facing those of her readers who are concerned about the impact of their purchasing decisions.  She recognises that the best way to live a sustainable life is to buy less, but also that her readers want to find ways, while supplementing and refreshing their wardrobes, to plot their way through the “greenwash” claims of the fashion brands.  Both these consumers and some of the brands themselves want clearer and more reliable accreditation of products that come from supply chains that are, if not truly environmentally friendly, at least less environmental unfriendly.

Following up the themes in this article, I found a great piece written by Whitney Bauck in Fashionista, in April last year:

“If you’re aware that there are ethical issues baked into making clothes but don’t have time to do in-depth supply chain research every time you need a new pair of socks, there’s a good chance you’ve thought at some point: ‘If only someone could just tell me for sure if this brand is ethical or not.’

“You wouldn’t be alone in that desire. In years of writing about both sustainability and ethics, it’s a sentiment I’ve heard from fashion consumers a lot. While many people want to be more conscious with their consumption, they also wish it were easier to tell which brands are truly being kind to people and planet.

“If you fall into that category, there’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that a one-size-fits-all ethical fashion certification will probably never exist, partly because not everyone agrees on what qualifies as “ethical.” Should that word refer to job creation in impoverished communities or animal welfare? Should it mean making clothes from organic materials or recycled synthetic ones? Not every ethical fashion fan has the same standards or priorities, and that will always make a one-size-fits-all approach to ethical fashion certification difficult.”

I wrote in a blog post four years ago about the benefits that the team I led at WH Smith believed would arise from developing and selling green stationery ranges.  The issues described by Lauren Indvik in the FT are nothing new.  We faced similar challenges both in terms of selecting products and in terms demonstrating to our customers that buying these products would better than buying alternatives.

The challenges facing investors and consumers in taking environmental and other ethical considerations into account in what are otherwise commercial decisions are identical.  Both investors and consumers want the best information, to put into the mix with the other things that influence their decisions – the complex trade-offs of exposure to multiple risks, timing, and return for the investor, or look, feel, comfort, durability, after sales support and cost* for the consumer.

The similarity between these challenges is evidence for the symmetry in all businesses – investors are customers for investment opportunities presented by the company, in the same way that consumers are customers for products and, indeed, that employees are customers for the jobs that companies provide.  In an age when people – in their multiple roles as investors, consumers, and employees – want to invest in, buy from, and work for organisations that behave responsibly in relation to wider society and to the environment, they need reliable information to inform their decisions.

* and a host of other possible features depending on the product or service category

Lessons from a Warzone, by Louai Al Roumani

My NHS Trust has an annual “Lessons Learned” conference, for sharing the lessons that teams have drawn out from incidents that have taken place in the previous twelve months.  Don’t waste a crisis by failing to learn from the experience.  This book is about lessons learned from a crisis, but is much more than just another business book.

Louai Al Roumani was the fairly newly appointed CFO of the leading retail bank in Syria when the Arab Spring turned into the Syrian civil war.  Most of his family fled to the safety of Kuwait as conditions turned nasty (ironically, they had been living in Kuwait when Saddam Hussein invaded in 1990, but missed the occupation because they were on vacation in what was then a very safe Damascus), but Al Roumani chose to remain, loyal to his home city and his company.

“Lessons from a Warzone: How to Be a Resilient Leader in Times of Crisis” recounts the lessons learned by Al Roumani over the next five years.  In this time, despite mortar bombs falling in Damascus and ISIS reaching the outskirts, his bank,  BBFS, didn’t just survive but thrived.  It did this by doing things that when explained by Al Roumani, and you should already have realised if only you thought about them for moment, make lots of sense even if they fly in the face of what many less insightful managers and directors might do (and, indeed, was evidence by departure of the two directors appointed the one of the major investors).

The lessons include going the extra mile to look after customers (airlifting safe deposit boxes out of a local branch as ISIS overran a provincial town), providing them with reassurance (displaying piles of cash when they queued up to withdraw their deposits and not restricting the amount they could withdraw), looking after staff and avoiding redundancies and cost-cutting around workplace hygiene factors ,and  robust systems testing and disaster planning.

He draws on his heritage as a Syrian, living in a city that claims to have been longest continuously inhabited community in the world (a claim of Damascus that Aleppo contests), but also sharing the nomadic transitions of hospitality and reciprocity of Arabi culture.  There are great insights relating to thinking about the long term health of the company, informed in part by a different “concept of time” from the one that he had been exposed to during his Harvard MBA.  He argues that you should not treat profitability as a critical success factor but that if you see your objective the long term wealth of your shareholders you will from time to time have to sacrifice short term profitability.  Although his bank was a creation only of the 1990s, he argues for playing “the long game as a third generation family business does.”  He tells a charming anecdote of a large purchase from a shop in the Damascus souq where, in contrast the lady ahead of him who haggled hard and secured no discount, the old gentleman who been silently observing the young man serving Al Roumani gave the instruction that Al Roumani should receive a discount to reward him for not haggling.  The account provided by Al Roumani explains why BBFS displayed such resilience through the Syrian civil war that it both maintained sustainable positions in relation to the marketplaces it deals with and also built the corporate and social capital inside the organisation not just to survive but the thrive.

Don’t read this book just for the business lessons.  It is a powerful tale of the resilience of a man and a society in the face of enormous threat and massive upheaval.  You will learn about the experience of a slice of Syrian society during the last decade and about the cultural hinterland that supports it.  It is also a human tale, which keeps resurfacing through the book and continues right through to the acknowledgements at the back – just for once, make the effort to read these as the book keeps on giving right up to the final page.

 

 

Should customers have come first in the GKN battle?

I don’t disagree with Michael Skapinker often, but his commentary on the successful bid by Melrose for GKN in today’s Financial Times “Customers should have come first in the GKN battle” had me getting out a metaphorical red ballpoint to mark his homework.

It was a shame.  He made such a good start, rehearsing points that he has made well in the past about shareholder value:

Whose interests should companies serve? For decades, the answer, particularly in the US and the UK, was shareholders’. Total stock market return, the argument went, was clear and measurable and it kept managers focused — until Jack Welch, former General Electric boss and one of shareholder value’s greatest champions, denounced it as “the dumbest idea in the world”.

That was in 2009. Mr Welch was not the only business chief to notice that the financial crisis had shredded the idea that if companies looked after shareholders, everything else would follow. Josef Ackermann, then-head of Deutsche Bank, said: “I no longer believe in the market’s self-healing power.”

A little later in his article, I also awarded him marks for citing the late Sumantra Ghoshal of London Business for arguing in 2005 that:

the people whose contribution should be recognised first were employees, who also took the biggest risks;

shareholders could sell their shares far more easily than most employees could find another job;

and employees’ “contributions of knowledge, skills and entrepreneurship are typically more important than the contributions of capital by shareholders, a pure commodity that is perhaps in excess supply”.

Not content with citing Sumantra Ghoshal with approval, Skapinker moved on later in the article, in the context of the intervention by the Tom Williams, chief operating officer of Airbus’s commercial aircraft division, about the need for long-term investment and strategic vision in the aircraft industry, to cite “the great” Peter Drucker for saying that

the purpose of business was to create a customer. Without that customer, there are no jobs for workers, no returns for shareholders and no strategic skills for nations.

All good stuff, and essentially consistent with Escondido Framework thinking, but Skapinker and others who were unhappy at the outcome of the bid seem to have missed the point about what was happening.

During the takeover battle, much was made of the heritage of GKN, whose origins lay in the founding of the Dowlais Ironworks in the village of Dowlais, Merthyr Tydfil, Wales, by Thomas Lewis and Isaac Wilkinson ion 1759. John Guest (whose name survives in the “G” of GKN – formerly Guest Keen and Nettlefold) was appointed manager of the works in 1767, and in 1786, he was succeeded by his son, Thomas Guest, who formed the Dowlais Iron Company.  However, the links to the multinational automotive and aerospace components company of 2018 are slight and accidental.

The company acquired by Melrose consists of four major divisions: GKN Aerospace (Aerostructures; Engine Products; Propulsion Systems); GKN Driveline (Driveshafts; Freight Services; Autostructures; Cylinder liners; Sheepbridge Stokes); GKN Land Systems Power Management; PowerTrain Systems & Services; Wheels and Structures; Stromag); and GKN Powder Metallurgy (Sinter Metals; Hoeganaes).  This is a collection of businesses that is the outcome of over a hundred years of acquisitions and disposals across the globe¹. At least at the parent company level, there is little to suggest the opportunity for much value creation from them all being part of the same corporate entity.

What business was GKN plc in?  The management of a portfolio of business units, primarily in manufacturing but some in services, spread across a range of different industries and technologies serving a variety of different types and classes of industrial customers, many but not all being OEMs.

Who were the customers of the corporate entity, as opposed to the subsidiaries (which are the entities that interface directly with the purchasers of goods and services, with their employees, and with suppliers)?  Perhaps the subsidiaries themselves, insofar that they derived value from the parent company and investment funds, in return for cash returned to the parent?  Perhaps the employees of the subsidiaries, at least in so far as they were beneficiaries of a corporately administered pension scheme (that, incidentally, Melrose committed to topping up with an extra £1 billion)?

Much has been made, including by Michael Skapinker in his article, of the 25% of the shares that were in the hands of hedge funds and other short term speculators who had only bought them very recently in the hope of a quick return.  Presumably they bought these shares from owners who were willing to sell at a lower price against the possibility that the Melrose bid failed and the share price under the existing management team would fall.

Melrose’s argument during the takeover battle was essentially that it is a management team with a record of successful managing corporate assets who would replace a management team that has been destroying value in its management of the GKN portfolio.  The commitments Melrose made along the way to the customers for the GKN subsidiaries’ goods and services and to their employers (in part evidenced by the promises relating to the pension scheme), suggest that they are not old fashioned asset strippers, selling off assets as part of strategy to wind down wealth creating business units.  Rather, they appear to understand the business that the GKN plc is currently in, which is managing a portfolio of businesses, adding value to those where it can, and selling those to which other companies can add more value.

If this is indeed the approach that Melrose takes, it will reflect a mindset in which the board thinks about the businesses within the portfolio as customers for the corporate centre, recognising that if there are other corporations that can provide individual business units with a better deal, let them go.  And that will make it easier to keep their customers in the capital markets, to whom they have spent the last few months marketing themselves, happy, loyal, and committed.

¹ Wikipedia history of GKN plc since 1966

The Uber employment tribunal decision through the prism of the Escondido Framework

How does the Escondido Framework interpret the impact of the decision of an employment tribunal in London that Uber drivers are not self-employed?

The Escondido Framework describes an organisation as both the solution space that exists between the external interfaces, or markets, and the structure, systems and processes within the solution space that mean that it creates value above and beyond what would exist in the absence of the organisation.

The first consequence of the employment tribunal was to address as matter of law as opposed to economics what Uber buys and sells. Uber hitherto has maintained that it provides a platform that brings together drivers and passengers – ie it provides a service that facilitates the provision of rides by self employed drivers to would be passengers who log on to the platform – rather it provides a transport solution to passengers using drivers that it employs. The judgement challenges the first model by effectively establishing that framework of the contract between the Uber and its drivers means that are being treated as though they were employees rather than self employed at arms length by the company.

The Escondido Framework is helpful in understanding how a judgement by lawyers considering employment lawyer can apparently transform the relationship between an Uber driver and Uber. Uber describes a relationship with the driver that makes them a customer of the company – a self-employed person who pays 25% of the fare secured to Uber in recognition of his or her use of the Uber platform. The Employment Tribunal found that, because of the constraints on the driver under the contractual relationship with company, the Uber driver is a supplier of labour – “an employee” – a factor of production in the provision of a minicab service by Uber to passengers.

The Escondido Framework is essentially neutral between the parties to a transaction: each is a customer of the other and is subject to terms that agreed in a contract of one sort or another, either explicit or implicit. Uber has certainly created value in creating and operating the platform, and thereby has created an organisation that occupies a virtual space bounded by market interfaces with drivers and passengers. Other interfaces bounding Uber’s virtual space include: those with its other employees – programmers and software engineers for example[1]; with its investors; and, as illustrated by this dispute and others with city transport authorities that license taxis, with the political and legal interfaces.

Given the restrictions on drivers, meaning that they cannot simultaneously be attached to multiple platforms, and that the passenger, although able to make choices among available drivers and vehicle classes, has relatively little ability to discriminate between drivers (I see a considerable contrast between Uber and other internet platform businesses such as eBay in this regards) it is hard to see Uber as a company selling a platform to users as opposed to selling journeys to passengers with drivers as employed labour, or at the very least suppliers that allow it to provide those journeys. In this interpretation, Uber is a very conventional organisation providing taxi services, with a highly efficient and well developed set of systems and processes that has created a lot of value, and in Escondido Framework language “solution space”, between the market interfaces of supplier/labour and customer.

Visualising the organisation within the Escondido Framework, in its most simple form as a Reuleaux Tetrahedron, one interpretation of the employment tribunal decision for Uber is that the interface with the labour market has moved and changed in shape. Alternatively, the judgement could be interpreted as a movement of the interface with the regulatory and political market place that reduces the solution space by limiting the parts of the labour market interface that are available to Uber (ie the self employment part of the interface is no longer available to it).

The outcome is indisputable. The solution space available to Uber is smaller, with a consequence that the latitude in terms of strategy available to its management is reduced, along with the amount of economic available for capture by the management and any other interested parties being reduced.

But assessing which of the market interfaces has changed to reduce the size of the solution space is more complex. Is it that the consequence of the legal judgement is that drivers will no longer be willing – as a consequence of the protection of rights arising from the employment tribunal decision – to work on the mix terms that they would previously have accepted? If so, this would represent a change in the position and shape of the market interface. Or is it that the market interface – which is collection of points representing an acceptable mix of terms of “employment” to drivers (payment, sick pay, holiday pay, employer imposed restrictions on availability, ability to take other work, ability to turn down rides, access to tips from passengers, discretion about routes to take, condition of the car that they driver must maintain etc) has not changed, but that the movement of the interface with the political and regulatory world (the market for political influence, which in Uber’s case may well have been influenced by other aspects of the company’s conduct), has moved in way that has removed some of these points from being available (see illustration below)

Impact of new regulation to reduce solution space
Impact of new regulation to reduce solution space

[1] Subsequent to this post some very interesting issues arose surrounding the way that Uber has positioned itself against this market interface, giving rise to repeated charges of sexism and sexual discrimination

Marketing, not just about consumers

At some point in the late 1990s, I wrote a short piece for Word on the Street, the Brackenbury Group’s client newsletter, which demonstrates one of the core propositions behind the Escondido Framework very clearly.  The relationship between the organisation and all its “stakeholders” is at its heart a marketing relationship:

Marketing is too important to be left to the marketing department.  Marketing departments address only the consumers of the products or services that a company sells to those it thinks of as its customers.  But the truth is far wider than this.

Companies should apply the marketing way of thinking in all the markets in which they operate.  This means not just the “downstream” market, but also to the “upstream” markets: funding, labour, bought in goods and services.  The company is marketing an investment opportunity to its shareholders and debt providers.  It is marketing careers and contracts to existing and prospective employees.  It is providing opportunities to its suppliers with markets and channels to other markets. 

The marketing mindset involves understanding the differing needs of differing customer segments, thinking about how to adapt your offer to meet the needs of your target customer and then doing it consistently, understanding the trade-offs they make between different attributes of the product or service you provide – of which price is only one dimension, determining where you can achieve an advantage over your competitors.  It also includes what most non-marketing people understand as “marketing”, communicating these benefits to customers in ways that lead eventually to a profitable sale.

In most companies, marketing activity occurs sporadically in the functions that face “upstream”.  Presentations are given to investors and financial PR consultancies are returned to put a positive gloss on results.  Advertisements are placed, glossy brochures and upbeat web pages prepared, and roadshows taken round campuses to attract prospective recruits.  Invtitations to tender and requirements lists are circulated, and subscriptions taken to web-exchanges as part of the sourcing process, whether for services, real estate, or components and real estate.

But in few companies does marketing explicitly underpin the way in which directors and managers in finance, HR, buying and purchasing, IT, property approach their responsibilities.  They need to think about their “customers” in the same way that their downstream facing colleagues do about the people or businesses that are customers for the products and services the company sells.  Applying tried and tested approaches from the downstream markets to the upstream markets to dealing with the financial markets will yield precious basis point reductions in the cost of capital and reduce paranoia about awkward investors or even takeover.  In HR policy, it will reduce total employment costs – not just outlays on wages and salaries, or even improved retention, but also through enhanced productivity.  And in purchasing it will translate into competitive advantage through lower total costs of supply, higher service and priority treatment.