Secret sauce – or obfuscation discount?

19th century copybook example used by Wikipedia to illustrate Kipling's poem
19th century copybook example used by Wikipedia to illustrate Kipling’s poem

A headline in this morning’s FT – Secretive active ETFs[1] lose out to their fully transparent rivals – leapt out at me and put me in mind of Kipling’s October 1919 poem Gods of the Copybook Headings.

FT journalist Steve Johnson notes that “The new portfolio shielding models were expected to encourage actively managed funds to enter the ETF market, something many active managers had been reluctant to do because they feared daily holdings disclosures would reveal their “secret sauce” allowing other investors to front-run their funds and steal their intellectual property.”

The idea of some fund managers that they possess “secret sauce” suggests a dangerous hubris, redolent of aspiring Masters of Universe heading for a fall.  Even if some may develop some special insight or clever algorithm to give them a temporary lead until their competitors catch up or until their perceived advantage turns out to be no more than a couple of rolls of the dice falling their way, the underperformance and lack of appeal of the non-transparent ETFs to investors suggests that any perception of the existence of “secret sauce” is outweighed by the discount that investors apply because they can’t see what is going on.

My instant reaction to the story was “What Dummies?”.  While transparency of the composition and activity within an exchange traded fund may fall short of the “perfect information” ideal, investors in ETFs are a reasonably sophisticated bunch and will want the assurance that goes with transparency and be naturally suspicious of anything short of transparency.

Which brings me to Kipling’s poem.  It was written in the aftermath of the First World War, with Kipling expressing pessimism about the nostrums that he perceived taking hold at the time. The current edit of Wikipedia describes what is going better than I can: In the poem, Kipling’s narrator counterposes the “Gods” of the title, who embody eternal truths, against “the Gods of the Market-Place”, who represent an optimistic self-deception into which it supposes society has fallen in the early 20th century.  For my purpose, the believers in “secret sauce” are the God’s of the Market-Place, and the God’s of the Copybook Headings are the students who stayed awake during Economics 101[2] and acknowledge the existence of the obfuscation discount.

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “Stick to the Devil you know.” 

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “The Wages of Sin is Death.” 

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “If you don’t work you die.” 

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more. 

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

 And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

[1] Exchange Traded Funds

[2] I could equally have used this poem to illustrate the disastrous budget of Lizz Truss and Kwasi Kwateng and, who assumed office (briefly) as prime minister and chancellor of the exchequer exactly a year ago.

Who is selling what to whom?

One of the Elzabeth Frink stratues that used to greet salesmen visiting the WH Smith Retail Head Office in the 1980s
One of the Elzabeth Frink statues that  greeted salesmen visitng WH Smith Retail in the 1980s

I led a very successful team of retail buyers in the 1980s.  In only three years they improved our margins by over 3.5% of the retail selling price.

The salespeople we dealt with didn’t stand a chance.  As we were the market leader in most of our product categories, we were always looked after by the senior national accounts manager or the sales director – more often the latter, or that is what their business card said – whose status meant they were generally well into middle age.  They would arrive in their Ford Scorpios, which would always be reversed into a parking space so no-one could see whether they had the top of the range model or vanilla version without the bells and whistles.  In a less equal and inclusive age, they were almost universally male. In common with most people working in sales functions at the time, they were outwardly sociable types – you need to be comfortable with people if you are engaged in face-to-face selling – but whose roles condemned them to spend most of their time away from close colleagues, sitting in alone in a car as they headed off to schmooze their customers.  More than anything else, they needed to be liked and to please people.

Our buyers were almost the opposite. Sure, they were great colleagues and a privilege to work with, but they didn’t need to be liked.  They were the gate-keepers to some of the most profitable shelf space on the high street, and had a clear view of how they were going to make that space generate profit for the company.  They were highflyers who had been recruited into sought-after graduate jobs and were still in their twenties and early thirties, were mostly female and often blonde, and tough as nails.  Although we visited our suppliers’ factories and warehouses from time to time to understand their business, most of the key meetings took place on our turf.  And if all this had not already put the buyers on the front foot when it came to seeking discounts from the (remember, generally male and middle aged) salespeople, their adversaries in the negotiation had been unmanned on arrival by having to drive past four well-endowed nude male sculptures commissioned by the company’s chairman from Elizabeth Frink (subsequently sold by a successor lacking any insight into the commercial benefit they provided).

On a recent visit to New York, I recounted this to a Wall Street banker who deals in fixed interest securities, “selling” (his words) to large corporate customers (again, his words) who are raising debt.  He questioned my description of salespeople as needing to be liked. I had to explain that, although he was competing with other banks for the business of the big corporations, it was much less clear in his world who was doing the selling than when I was working for a market-leading high street retailer.  I have not worked as Chief Financial Officer or head of treasury in a big corporate, but I spent a significant amount of time trying to raise money from private equity investors and from suppliers of senior debt (to provide financial leverage for the ventures that I hoped would make my fortune). It was very clear who was selling what to whom – I had the investment opportunity and was trying to sell this to the people with the cash.  I wanted to be liked (or at least for them to like the risk-reward opportunity that I was pitching).  Although, subsequently, I found myself counselling entrepreneurs entertaining offers from venture capital firms that they should look beyond the cash that was on the table and to understand that the investor needed to demonstrate whether they would be attractive people to work with and add value to the business they were “buying” into (ie do a bit of selling), most of the time, the people with the cash needed persuading to buy the opportunity.

The Escondido Framework posits that all commercial transactions (and this spills over into non-commercial transactions – such as those in politics) involve both parties selling and both parties buying[1], albeit with the balance of power (particularly informed by competitive considerations and the availability of alternatives for one or other party to the transactions) influencing the degree it feels to the parties as though they are buying or selling.   This, of course, feeds through to what sort of people you need to charge with leading the transactions with the other party, how they should work, and what tools they need to do the job well.

 

[1] I have written elsewhere about the experience early in my career as strategic planning manager for WHSmith, working with WHSmith Wholesale, which was the dominant player in the UK distribution of newspapers and magazines.  The business thought of itself as having retail newsagents as its customers and newspaper and magazine publishers as its suppliers.  But, as evidenced by the way that the industry subsequently developed (all this, prior to emergence of on-line channels for news and for magazine content), the core role of the business was to provide a distribution service to the publishers, who were buying the distribution service rather than selling newspapers and magazines to a wholesaler.

 

The paradox of the anti-woke investor

Fundsmith founder, Terry Smith
Fundsmith founder, Terry Smith – No Nonsense?

The Escondido Framework argues that all the market interfaces of the company (with customers for their goods or services – either B2B or B2C, labour, their own suppliers of goods and services, and providers of capital) are essentially similar.

Customers for goods and services make their decisions to purchases on the basis of a variety of characteristics of the offering: quality, product features, after-sales support, credit terms, price and more, and in relation to all of these, the competing alternatives.  Employees consider not only the raw salary package, but the variety of employment terms, both hard and soft benefits, company culture and values, corporate reputation, risk, opportunities for career development, and that’s just the start of the list.  Suppliers of goods and services also have complex decisions in terms of how they view their customers, whom to serve and how.  It is not just a matter of price.  For example: is this customer big enough to justify the effort to sell to them compared to the other potential customers out there; can we support the service levels and stock requirements to meet their demands; would our brand be damaged in the eyes of our premium customers if we sell to downmarket segments?  And suppliers of funds to companies, whether equity, debt, or hybrid instruments, consider a wide range of trade-offs: risk (reflecting a wide variety of considerations: operational, financial structure, regulatory exposure), term, liquidity, income generation, value growth, portfolio diversification for starters.

So what should we make of the debate raging over ESG informed investment and rise of the vocal “anti-woke” investor?

The Escondido Framework is not a normative model, arguing over rights and wrongs of ESG investment.  The model describes the world as it is, and highlights the shortcomings and incompleteness of other models of the organisation.  Investors, alongside with consumers, suppliers and especially employees include ESG type considerations in the mix when deciding who to do business with and on what terms.  Do I want to be complicit in the destruction of the planet, oppression of minorities, exploitation of disadvantaged populations – whether on a third world plantation or facing an early death through a predisposition to consume addictive toxins (alcohol, tobacco or opiates).  ESG is a fact of life in all markets, the only question is the weight and precise form in which it plays into the consideration of all the parties (aka stakeholders) with whom companies interact.

There are conflicting accounts as to whether ESG focussed companies and investment funds deliver superior returns.  Part of the problem is one of definition and the nature of the measures employed: movements in share price are a poor metric because any starting point in a share price measure has future performance expectations priced in.  However, to the extent that robust taking ESG issues into considerations reflect long term strategic thinking and the combination of transparency to investors and quality in decision-making processes, it is hard to see why and how ESG would not offer great value creation over an “anti-woke” alternative.

The Financial Times has once again (Helen Thomas on 11 January, following an article by Harriet Agnew on 12 January last year) focussed on a spat between “anti-woke” investor Terry Smith of Fundsmith and the leadership of Unilever.  Smith has mocked Unilever’s leadership in his annual letter to investors for highlighting its sustainability credentials and for “virtue-signalling ‘purpose’”.  He takes issue with Unilever for “purposeful” brands. For example, he comments about soap that “when I last checked it was for washing” dismissing Unilever for talking about “inspiring women to rise above everyday sexist judgements and express their beauty and femininity”.  But, as Thomas points out, “the huge success of Dove – one of Unilever’s biggest brands, held up as a marketing case study – suggests a bit of female empowerment and body positivity isn’t a stupid way to sell soap.  Rather like efforts to make mayonnaise appealing to health-conscious millennials [Smith laid into Unilever’s account of the “purpose” of Hellman’s last year], Smith just isn’t the target market”.

He is on stronger ground in his criticism of Unilever, which has been subject to a raid by activist Norman Peltz who now has a seat on the board. He complains that Unilever has failed to engage with his fund which had been a long-term holder of Unilever stock and twelfth largest shareholder.  Marketing to investors, involving both taking strategic marketing decisions about the proposition provided to the investor (ie the profile of the investment including characteristics such as those listed provide above) as well as communicating with the shareholders, is one of the core responsibilities of the chief executive.

Reading the Fundsmith shareholder letter, I take away the impression that Smith’s criticism of “virtue-signalling” reflects a politically informed discomfort with a company that responds to trends in society and to the new consensus about threats to the environment.  However, his language elsewhere and his stated strategy to invest in good companies, hold onto shares for the long term, suggest that he doesn’t recognise that his fund should invest in companies that adopt the underling strategic approach of Unilever (even if not its failure to communicate adequately with large shareholders or its apparently inept approach to large transactions).  Given the stated approach (effectively to emulate Warren Buffett), Smith ought to be able to leave his personal politics and any “anti-woke” tendencies outside in the carpark when he comes to work and to recognise the value of purpose and ESG when investing on behalf of his clients.

Investors call a chief executive’s bluff

Don't ask these investors for a pay rise
Don’t ask these investors for a pay rise

News of a chief executive’s resignation following a failed bid for more pay reminded me that back in April, the FT’s Brooke Masters wrote an article about the difficulties faced by both governments and shareholders reining in the excesses of corporate pay.  Noting that in 2021 it was possible to believe that “corporate sermonising about the need to look beyond pure profit was beginning to bear fruit”, “that the pandemic had prompted most corporate chieftains to show financial restraint” and that CEO pay in the FTSE 100 had dropped by 10%, she noted that the tide had turned.

Her article was triggered by controversy around the salary to be paid to Carlos Tavers of carmaker Stellantis which attracted the ire of French presidential election candidates and was voted down by shareholders.  But this contrasted with larger remuneration packages in Stellantis’s US domiciled competitors, and much large packages in the tech giants.

These big packages have been facing challenges from shareholders. Masters reports that 18% of US companies with revenue in excess of $50 billion failed to get a majority voting in favour of their executive salary resolutions, and there was a 20% increase in shareholder protest votes on pay in Europe.  But often these have no effect and merely advisory, with no pain felt by boards that fail to comply with the expressed shareholder will.  She indicates that she feels that the pressures for restraint in public companies are insufficient, completing her article by giving the impression that the promise from the Stellantis board that the shareholders’ vote would be “taken into account” in next years’ pay report suggests that shareholders are not being taken seriously.

In contrast, the response on 7 August of the founders of private equity company Carlyle Group to the attempt to extract economic rent from shareholders, otherwise described as a pay claim worth $300m over five years, submitted by chief executive Kewsong Lee, suggests a that they have some backbone.  Admittedly, Bill Conway, David Rubenstein and Daniel D’Aniello are all billionaires and can absorb the immediate response of the stock market, a 10% decline in the share price, to the announcement of Kewsong Lee’s departure, but some of this soon recovered and the price remains 13% above the price one month ago.

But given that there is a vacancy at Carlyle and that Kewsong Lee received a total of $42 million last year (mostly in stock awards, but a fair bit of leverage on the base salary of $275,000), anyone willing to exercise a little restraint in the face of some hard-nosed shareholder may want to apply.

Echoes of the eighteenth century – the Spac bubble

Emblematical Print on the South Sea Scheme - William Hogarth
Emblematical Print on the South Sea Scheme – William Hogarth

At the height of the South Sea Bubble, an investment prospectus seeking to exploit the febrile market of 1720 is supposed to have described “A company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is.”

This story is generally described as apocryphal.  It would indeed be unbelievable but for the appetite last year for investors to pour money into Special Purpose Acquisition Companies, or Spacs, shell companies that raise money from investors through a listing on a promise of merging with an unidentified private company[1].  Apparently, nearly half of the $230 billion raised globally in new listings have gone to Spacs.  In the words attributed to PT Barnum “there’s a sucker born every minute.”[2]

There is no reliable record of whether the “company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage” ever existed, let alone what became of the funds committed by investors if there ever were any. But the fortunes of the Spacs and their investors is better documented, and an analysis has been published by the FT today. 425 of these “blank cheque companies” have listed since the beginning of 2020.  The shares in two thirds are trading at below the $10 listing price, implying that they are worth less than the cash that was invested.  Only 41 of these companies have completed transactions, and on average their shares are 39% below their peak valuation, despite a rally in the US stock market overall.  Only 3 are within 5% of their peak, 18 are more than 50% below their peak, and 8 are below the $10 valuation when they first raised cash.

Perhaps “purpose” and a credible plan is worth something after all?  It is moot whether a speculative investment not underpinned by a credible plan and purpose is better than a pig in a poke but, if so, it is not by very much.

An FT reader (pen name: Warthog Under The Bridge) who has commented on today’s FT report observes: “As a rough guide, the only way to make money with SPACs is to be a SPAC manager.  Buyer beware, the guys running the shows are doing very well at your expense.”  There may some SPAC managers making out like bandits, and there may be some advisers and professional firms raking in fees.  But there may be some whose own money is at risk or whose advisers were taking fees on a risk basis.  But Warthog Under The Bridge is probably right to claim that there is no other way to make money from a SPAC.  Nonetheless, those who have spent the past year on these ventures would have created more value for themselves and society doing something else!

The same probably applied in 1720.  But as there is no record of that the “company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage” ever existed, we also don’t know whether its promoters, their lawyers, or even the printers of the prospectus made money either.

[1] FT 2nd May 2021

[2] Also apocryphal, but none the worse for that!

 

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

How can investors and owners support purposeful business?

This, the fourth session of the British Academy Future of the Corporation – Purpose Summit opened with the Colin Mayer as session chair arguing that shareholders should be responsible for insisting that the business in which they own shares following their corporate purpose.

It may not have been his role as chair of the morning session to set out the logic behind the assertion, but it was disappointing that he did go on to frame this not so much as a responsibility of the shareholder as being something that is in their interest.  After all, it is in the interest of the shareholder who has invested in a particular business proposition (with the prospect of financial returns that relate to the industry sector, corporate capability, strategy and market position) that the business “sticks to its knitting” and pursues its purpose to the best of its ability.  After all, we are taught at business school that the shareholder can diversify their risk by investing in a variety of business and can buy instruments and investment that offer different patterns of return.  The purpose of the company is something that attracts the shareholder to invest, and both the company and the shareholder have an interest in the company following its purpose.  This proposition is the outcome of Escondido Framework thinking and its model of the firm.

Douglas Lamont, CEO of Innocent Drinks gave us a inspiring account of the Innocent Drinks story including a description of its purpose, vision and values – the why, what and how.  He explained how Coca Cola, when it invested in the company in 2009 approached its investment with the intent that the purpose of Innocent should be protected.  The relationship should be “connected not integrated” so Innocent could benefit from the positive things that Coca Cola could provide but not be swamped and turned into a fizzy drinks brand.  As a consequence, Lamont feels that he has a “strong, trusting relationship with our shareholder” and sees the model of his company’s relationship to Coca Cola being a challenge to big corporates to emulate with their acquisitions and subsidiaries.

Lamont also spoke about the being a “B Corp”, the movement of companies trying to shift the reputation of business from greed to good.

Hiro Mizuro, CIO for the Japanese Government Pension Investment Fund spoke about the relationship between the “owner” of the asset in the shape ultimately of the pension beneficiary, the investor or investment fund and the portfolio company.  He posed the question that I see as the beneficiary of some pension funds that are not yet paying out and some that now are, and as the owner of insurance policies and Individual Savings Account investments in tracker funds.  To what degree do I take responsibility and, indeed, in relation to the argument from Colin Mayer at the start of the session, can I take responsibility for the purpose.  On the other hand, thinking back to my time as chair of the Finance Committee at Versus Arthritis, it was just this approach from the team at Baillie Gifford that attracted me to advising the charity to invest in its Global Stewardship Fund, which proved the best decision I took in my eight years as a trustee of the charity.

The penultimate presentation of this session was Phil Thomson, president of global affairs at GSK.  He spoke of joining Glaxo Wellcome, a pharmaceutical company with a strong sense of purpose 20 years ago, but also of an industry that lost its way in terms of its sense of purpose for time.  He spoke of how the world had “dodged the bullet” of a pandemic several times in that time but the sense of purpose for the life sciences companies has been restored and reinforced by the current crisis and has helped stabilise and increase the resilience of the business.  He argued that embedding purpose takes time and requires consistency but, along with clear values (Transparency, Respect, Integrity and Patient Focus) provides a simplicity that can be understood among the 125,000 employees of the organisation across the globe.  Later, in answer to questions, he talked about how the values and the shared understanding of the purpose gave staff a sense of ownership in terms of their responsibility for what the company does and how it does it.

The final speaker was Deb Oxley, chief executive of the Employee Ownership Association.  It is her role to promote employee ownership, extolling its virtues, overclaiming for what it can deliver, and blinding her to the competing challenges of other stakeholders to ownership rights and to diversity of types of engagement of people in a workforce – from the casual part-timer, to the person with transportable skills through to “lifers” who have made huge commitments to the organisation and few choices to move elsewhere.  The shortcomings in her presentation only highlight the strengths of the alternative way of understanding ownership that underpins the Escondido Framework.