Where is our patriotism for British financial services?

The City could do with some of our Olympic spirit.

Whilst Team GB excels and its athletes epitomise the best of Britain and continue to be a shining example of the rewards achievable through dedication, honest hard work and, passion; many aspects of the City continue to shame us.  Having said this, the recent Standard Chartered furore appears unlike many of the recent financial scandals.  It can be construed as an opportunistic, badly concealed political attack by a New York financial regulator trying to profit from discrediting a bank run from London to the benefit of Wall Street institutions.

Whilst the Governor of the Bank of England has recently said as much, the reality is that the New York regulators are reaping the rewards of poor regulation in the UK. Had the Bank of England and the FSA not managed to be so totally inept in the Barclays et al LIBOR scandal, it would not now be open season on attacking any London based institution, whether they deserve it or not.  The Bank of England chose to ignore the eminent advice of the US Federal Reserve which could have been an early alert to the Libor scandal in the first place.

The only way forward has to be to put aside self-interest, look at the longer term picture and resurrect the reputation of the City to reflect the values and ethos central to the Olympic spirit.  We need to fundamentally improve standards here in London to regain the reputation for integrity and quality which we have recently lost. It's not just the other banks that suffer from guilt by association from these scandals but any financial services institution. To the man in the street we are all the same, they do not differentiate. 

The families, trainers, medics and their full support teams have all rallied in support of British Sport but where is the rallying in support of our financial services industry which contributes 10 per cent of our GDP? We are in serious danger of losing our place on the podium when it comes to the world’s winning financial centres.  

I implore those in positions of power and government to step in and ensure that the codes and regulations that govern our financial services industry are fit for purpose and adhered to in word and spirit and that they provide a robust framework to end the shoddy practises eroding the industry’s reputation on the national as well as international stage.  The trade bodies, be they the bankers, insurers, pension providers or fund managers, need to be 'dope' tested and I don't mean dope as in drugs but dope as idiotic! To have professional standards and regulations overseen, as they are in many cases, by trade bodies from the financial services industry is the equivalent to putting the supplier of enhancing drugs in charge of the doping tests. No longer can the regulator be allowed to delegate their responsibilities to self-serving trade bodies.

What is needed is not more regulation but more effective regulation – regulation that is based on fundamental over-riding principles applied consistently, simply and overseen by independent bodies, not self-interested trade groups.  London needs to restore its position in the global league table of financial centres.

Photograph: Getty Images

Gina Miller is the founding partner of SCM Private LLP and spearhead of the True and Fair Campaign. www.trueandfaircampaign.com

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times