I have been to some eventful annual meetings in my time. I have seen naked protestors handcuff themselves to the table at which the board was sitting, causing huge embarrassment for the security guards uncertain how to wrestle them away without provoking allegations of roving hands.
I’ve watched vacuum cleaners delivered to the podium with the refrain, ‘Clean up your act’, and I’ve watched countless elderly shareholders berate the board for their poor grammar, excessive remuneration or the inadequacies of their products.
I’ve watched experienced chief executives excoriated by little old ladies, finance directors stumped by throwaway lines and chairmen struggle to control auditoriums. But even I was amused by the investor at the annual Nintendo shareholders’ meeting.
He was concerned about the falling stock price, he said, adding: ‘I own stock, but I don’t own a single Nintendo product. I believe games are a waste of time. By the way, the reason I own Nintendo stock is because the name is so nice, it’s in Kyoto and it was listed in the year of my birth.’
How, you wonder, could chief executive Satoru Iwata respond? With characteristic Japanese charm, he pointed out that Nintendo exists because ‘there are people in this world who don’t feel that games are a waste of time.’ The company was, he said, ‘working to expand the gaming population, yourself included.’ (Good luck with that!)
Iwata might have thought that was the end of the matter, but no. The product-averse shareholder expressed concern that people in the evacuation centers during the Tohoku earthquake disaster had little chance to exercise. ‘Why didn’t you bring Wii Fit to them?’ he asked. ‘Why didn’t you show off to the media that you were doing more for the victims?’
Now, if I had been Mr Iwata, at this point I might have started looking around for the hidden cameras, in readiness for the Jackass presenter to jump from his seat. But he took it all entirely seriously. While it was undoubtedly true that some earthquake survivors might have enjoyed gaming, he felt others might want to spend the time quietly to reflect on losses. Sending out products indiscriminately might have reflected badly on Nintendo.
But life might be much more interesting if shareholders adopted the strategy of Nintendo’s curious investor, investing purely on the basis of random associations.
Just imagine the scene: ‘Good morning, Mr Jobs. As a doctor I am a long-term supporter of Apple even though I have yet to see the merits of your eye pads. But could you tell me what you are doing to promote a five-a-day culture?’
Or perhaps this comment to the chief executive of Britain’s high street retail darling: ‘As someone with the first name Mark and the surname Spencer, I felt compelled to buy your shares, and their performance has been satisfactory. I recently got married, however, and my wife insists on creating a double-barreled family name – and her name is Macy.
‘Would the board countenance a transatlantic merger? Otherwise I may well be forced to sell.’
Helen Dunne is editor of CorpComms in London.
This article appeared in the September print edition of IR magazine.
