May 7 2023

Remember the De Lorean fiasco? To provide jobs in Northern Ireland, the then government paid the bouffant-haired car designer to set up his factory there. It collapsed a few years later amidst missing money and fraud. Arthur Andersen, the auditors, who admitted missing obvious fraud signs, were banned from government work and sued. It was only when Blair won that the ban on AA was lifted and a risible settlement agreed. (Doubtless entirely coincidentally, AA had provided free advice to Labour in opposition. A “scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” approach to favours has never restricted itself to one party.)

Fast forward a quarter of a century. Fujitsu, whose Horizon accounting system used by the Post Office, was responsible for the largest miscarriage of justice in British history, has suffered no similar penalty. Indeed, no penalty at all. Far from it. It has been rewarded with more lucrative government contracts; it has not paid any compensation; no company official has been held responsible.

Why? Well, one answer is that AA’s failures harmed the government. Whereas Fujitsu and the Post Office only harmed some lowly sub-postmasters and mistresses. A cynical take. But an accurate one. The brutal reality is that being in public ownership or a public service does not automatically mean an organization behaves well. Worse, it often means that when it causes harm to others, its primary interest is to protect itself – even at the expense of those it has harmed. This is not new. See how the Aberfan families were treated in the decades after the loss of their children. Or the victims of the blood contamination scandal or many other NHS scandals or Windrush.

This story shows a state – and many of its key functions: the Post Office, owned by the state, the criminal justice system, run by the state, and the responsible Ministers and civil servants – to be malign, incompetent, indifferent to the damage caused, defensive and determined (behind all the paraphernalia of inquiries, reviews, assessments) to delay the allocation of responsibility, effective consequences for those responsible and proper, timely compensation for those harmed. It is no consolation – nor anything for the rest of us to be proud of – that some judges, some lawyers, a few persistent journalists and 1 MP – James Arbuthnot – have battled and are still battling to ensure justice.

There has been a book, a podcast, a heartbreaking Panorama documentary. The Times has written some scathing editorials. The inquiry grinds on, lawyers argue about different compensation schemes, the police investigation into possible perjury by Fujitsu personnel has been announced. But nothing seems to happen. Meanwhile yet more postmasters die – 59 so far. Is that the plan? To wait until everyone is dead, then quietly bury whatever report is produced while those responsible get away with it and carry on making money? Apparently so.

It is cruel. It adds a further injustice to the original one. It displays a contempt for the people who have suffered and are still suffering. It displays an indifference to the human consequences of people’s acts and omissions, something all too easy to forget amongst the mass of wrongdoing patiently unearthed by courts and inquiries. That cruelty consists in holding out the promise of compensation while making the process of getting it long, complicated and difficult. Meanwhile, those responsible, both for the injustice and the delays, suffer nothing, withhold evidence from the inquiry and/or, grotesquely, award themselves bonuses and lie about it. On its website the Post Office says it wants “to remain one of the most admired institutions in the public sector”. “Remain“? “Most admired“? Both delusional and arrogant.

Why has this scandal not been taken more seriously?

• The very diffuse nature of the tragedy over two decades. Lots of individual stories, all heartbreaking. But no one event or place to focus on. No image. No buried school or trapped fans in a football pen or burnt-out tower. No anniversary. So it is easy for it to fade away into a complicated background, something to do with accounting and IT and legal stuff. No-one is going to sing their heart out for that. No Royal is going to visit and lay flowers.
• Worse – this was not just the wrong people convicted of a crime. There was no crime.  It is hard to get your head round the fact that hundreds of people were investigated, tried and convicted for crimes that never happened. How can this possibly be?
• The people to whom this happened come from all backgrounds, all over the country, of all ages. It makes it worse but also means they have no obvious representative to speak for them, no-one to whom they – collectively – matter.
• No political party has taken up their cause. All the major parties had Ministers responsible for the Post Office who failed to ensure that it behaved competently and then, when the scandal erupted, failed to ensure that it was handled properly. So they hide behind their pathetic claims that they weren’t briefed or didn’t realise or delegated or assumed that others were doing their job and are shocked and appalled and oh dear … blah blah .. and very sorry etc.,. What is the point of these junior Ministers if all they can do is hand-wringing avoidance of responsibility?
• Far too many groups behaved badly. What makes this so hard to comprehend is the overwhelming scale. Look at all those responsible: Fujitsu, those who developed, oversaw and sold Horizon, Post Office management at all levels, internal investigators, in-house lawyers, external lawyers, IT staff, those knowing something was wrong but saying nothing, Ministers, civil servants advising them, prosecutors, the judges’ ruling that the computer evidence should be believed (one of the stupidest judicial rulings made). All these, through their actions and omissions, are responsible; many continue to be responsible for the delays in giving the victims adequate compensation while they are still alive. Easier to forget or not engage at all.

Among all these failings, two deserve very close scrutiny.

The lawyers

There were obvious problems with the Post Office being its own prosecutor, the confusion between the role of investigators and prosecutors, the failures of those investigators, a lack of clarity about the duties owed and to whom by the in-house lawyers, failures to make proper disclosure, withholding key evidence, failure to speak up, conflicts of interest for the lawyers advising on the compensation schemes, lack of honesty, failure to understand or challenge the accounting and technical evidence (a persistent problem for the legal system – see the Sally Clark case) and so on. Bluntly, the Post Office ruined innocent people by lying, manipulating and subverting for its own commercial advantage the English justice system. Its lawyers were central to that. Many of those involved should be ashamed of – and deserve censure for – their unprofessionalism and behaviour.

The approach to the technical (in this case, computer) evidence

There is a tendency (not confined to the Post Office) to believe there is one technological system which will provide the answer to a problem; and believe only what that technology tells you. Both are foolish, dangerous impulses. (A lesson for us on the cusp of a new technological revolution.) When combined with working back from your desired conclusion (“we’re going to find fraud with our shiny new toy”), miscarriages of justice are all but inevitable. (Something for Holyrood to consider before proceeding with its judge-only rape trial pilot designed to increase convictions.)

What now?

3 people: the PM, the Chancellor, the Business Secretary need to stop hiding behind endless inquiries and legal to-ing and fro-ing and make it a top priority to get compensation paid promptly.

• Those MPs trying to help their constituents need to badger them until they do.
• The inquiry into responsibility must be uncoupled from the assessment and payment of compensation.
• Fujitsu should be given no government contracts until they pay compensation.
• The Post Office’s senior management needs replacing by honest capable people. A public explanation is needed for why it awarded itself a bonus scheme for complying with an inquiry set up to investigate its own failings and why it lied about it in its public accounts.

Meanwhile, remember the words of Desmond Ackner QC, Counsel for the Aberfan families, to the official inquiry. They apply as easily to Horizon as to a slag heap.

This was a slow growing man-made menace, fed by the indifference of those who should never have permitted its existence. That is the horror of this disaster. There can be no more bitter reminder of the truth and wisdom of George Bernard Shaw’s condemnation –

“The worst sin towards our fellows is not to hate them. It is to be indifferent to them. For that is the essence of inhumanity.”

Photo by Kutan Ural on unsplash.com.

March 31 2019

In the week in which Lyft, a company which has never made a profit, whose losses rose by 32% to nearly one billion in 2018 and which, according to its management, will not make a profit in the near-term, was listed with an initial valuation of $2.3 billion with its shares rising by 8.7% on the first day (giving it a market capitalisation of $22.4 billion, almost as much as Chrysler), we learnt a bit more about two other former stars of the business world.

First, London Capital & Finance (LCF).  Perhaps not a star but starry enough – at least superficially – to persuade about 12,000 unsophisticated ordinary savers to put £230 million of their savings into fixed-rate bonds (which they thought eligible for ISAs) providing returns well above those available elsewhere. In reality, the bonds were high risk and not eligible for ISAs, were not regulated investments and the money went into a number of ventures run by persons connected to those behind LCF.  The administrators are now, inevitably, probing what happened and where the money went. But this week investors were told that the administrators were having difficulty locating the assets allegedly acquired with the money, the chances of there being any recovery were low and, to add insult to injury, while investors lost money “through no fault of their own”, there was no basis for any compensation from either the FCA or the FSCS.  The investors fell into the gaps between firms regulated to provide financial advice, which LCF was, and firms regulated to sell bonds, which LCF was not.

The moral of this sad story is an old one: if something looks too good to be true, stay away.  

Still, those savers might well wonder what one of the FCA’s statutory objectives – protecting consumers – actually means when LCF was able to operate in the way it did in full view of the regulators without anyone taking any effective action to protect those consumers.  The plethora of inquiries now taking place – by administrators, the SFO, the National Audit Office and possibly also the Financial Reporting Council – are not likely to provide those savers with much comfort.

Now to Theranos– a company which no longer exists but which is having a lucrative after-life in a book, documentary, podcast and rumoured Hollywood film.  Its story is now well-known: a student leaves Stanford with a brilliant idea which will revolutionize health care (no more nasty needles taking blood – just a teeny pinprick), raises oodles and oodles of money, has a Board consisting of the great and the good (Dr Kissinger, George Schultz), appears on stage with Bill Clinton, is co-opted onto an advisory panel by President Obama, and is fêted as one of the first and youngest and prettiest female Silicon Valley billionaires. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, pretty much the most important thing: the product Theranos was selling did not work. Having an idea is great.  Selling an idea knowing that the reality does not match it: not so great.  Criminal charges have been laid.  We will see whether this was self-delusion and a failed business or something very much worse.  Still, one of the striking facts which has come out is that a lot of very experienced, very rich business people – people as far removed from ordinary savers as it is possible to be – failed to do the most elementary due diligence or ask basic questions, not even for an audited financial statement.

Maybe they were happy to take a risk without more.  Or maybe, like those hopeful savers putting their money and hopes into LCF, they believed in what they hoped would be true, they believed the story, ignored the facts and/or didn’t ask obvious questions.  Any similarities to investors in Lyft are, one hopes, purely coincidental.

Photo by Raul Cacho Oses on Unsplash

February 28 2019

One of the financial sector’s characteristics is a short memory.  After about 5-7 years memories, particularly of tough times, begin to fade. New joiners bring their enthusiasm and keenness to do new deals, develop new structures, explore new possibilities. Blockchains, ever more complex algorithms, AI, new paradigms: all are being created and expanded. The future’s exciting. So the surfeit of scandals which came to light following the financial crisis a decade ago are beginning to sound like stories from a forgotten age, interesting but no longer really relevant to now, let alone the bright new future.

And then, from the other side of the world, comes this – a searing report (a Royal Commission, no less) into misbehaviour in Australian banks, to remind us, once again, that – in the words of an official with the US’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network back in 2013 – “large amounts of money sometimes bring out the worst in people.”

(As an Australian might put it: “You don’t say!”)

The report followed a year-long public inquiry into the culture and practices within Australian banking and revealed shocking, widespread and systemic examples of the sort of misbehaviour with which we have become so familiar.

• Rewards for misconduct: the focus of all the institutions, whether banks, mortgage brokers, insurance firms, intermediaries was on selling, as much as possible for as high a fee as possible, regardless whether this was in the customer’s best interests.  In some cases, non-existent services were provided to dead people for years.
• It will come as no surprise that this arose from badly skewed incentives. Or greed, of both the individuals and the institutions, as the Report says, bluntly and refreshingly.  
• Firms abused their superior knowledge to mislead and defraud customers.  Conflicts of interest were ignored.  Individuals did what they could not what they should.
• When customers complained, staff were trained to lie to them, even when compensation was paid; deliberate actions were conveniently and misleadingly described as an “administrative error”.
• Firms lied to and misled regulators, often for years on end.  Nor were these the actions of junior staff but of senior management who felt no compunction about noting down in internal correspondence how to keep information from regulators and prevent any proper scrutiny of their actions.
• Regulators were weak and did not hold those who misbehaved to account, even when they became aware of them.

500 pages set out in blistering detail a sorry tale of greed, fraud, lies, poor leadership, contempt for customers and a systematically rotten culture.  The usual action is, of course, now being taken: resignations, new leadership, building a good culture, training, new legislation, enforcement, litigation and so forth. 

Two points in particular are worth noting:

1. These scandals did not happen in investment banking but in retail institutions, those dealing every day with ordinary consumers, the very people who need trustworthy and reliable financial services, who had a right to trust their providers and who were so badly let down.
2. The banking sector in Australia is one of the most profitable in the world: 2.9% of Australia’s GDP.  Compare this to the US share of 1.2% and 0.9% in the UK.  The pre-tax profits of Australia’s banks are 6^thin the world even though it is only the world’s 13^th largest economy and its population only 25 million.  Little wonder that they thought they could do no wrong.

When sectors / institutions start thinking of themselves as indispensable (“look at our profits, our tax revenues”), when finance forgets that it is a service industry, there to serve others not itself, when banking is seen as a product to be sold rather than as a long-term relationship to be nurtured, then hubris and the sorts of behaviours seen in Australia, as well as elsewhere, will happen.  

The Australian report is a salutary reminder that the old stories still have much to teach us.  

Photo by Jamie Davies on Unsplash