Way back in 1993, I wrote a front-page splash for a UK newspaper with the headline 250 millionaires for Christmas. It caused a bit of a stir, not least for one mother who apparently fell off her chair at the hairdressers after picking up the paper and reading of her son’s good fortune.
Looking back, the numbers involved now seem quite trivial – the sums referred to in the article were quoted in dollars – although it was hard for a young correspondent at that time to imagine a bank account that wasn’t illuminated in a vibrant red.
Those were the days when, within the City at least, there was much sharing of information about bonuses. One broker, ICAP, even posted details of all employees’ bonuses on a notice board, in the hope it would inspire productivity in those less well remunerated.
One of those 250 millionaires was so proud of his inclusion that, according to colleagues, he stuck the article on the wall behind his trading desk. Today, he is one of the most successful hedge fund managers in the world and so reclusive that every time he is photographed in public, he allegedly buys up the rights to the images.
Not everybody delighted in the information, though. The newspaper received a flurry of letters from readers disgusted that it would even print such an article. The bankers, they believed, should be ashamed of their good fortune.
In time, the bankers themselves would become less keen to see details of their bonuses splashed across the headlines. Some PR departments would call up claiming that, by publishing the information, I could endanger the life of the recipients’ children by making them kidnap targets.
Other times, they played on the ‘Imagine how embarrassing it is for him to go to his local pub and have everybody know his personal details?’ angle. As I said then, I’d like to have the chance to imagine such an embarrassment.
Bonuses were also accompanied by secrecy agreements, which gagged the recipients from sharing their financial information with friends or colleagues. Against this background, I find it hard to believe that any attempt to get investment banks to publish details of their highest-paid employees will prove successful. And I’m not really sure what it would achieve.
Ultimately, it might improve the attractiveness of some financial institutions to potential recruits. I can imagine the phone calls: ‘Get me an interview at X. Did you see what it is paying its top guys? And, for future reference, I never want to be put forward for a role at Y. That’s barely enough to cover my yacht’s mooring fees.’
What’s more, as everybody knows, a headline figure is never the true story. I’m reminded of the time when some investment banks paid their key staff in gold bullion bars and other ‘assets’ in an effort to reduce their tax bills.
Some of the smartest – and, let’s face it, dumbest – brains in the business work in financial markets and, as has already been made abundantly clear, they put their wits to good use when their personal interests are under attack. They’ll be ticking the box for no publicity.
