Who is Marissa Mayer?

The new CEO of Yahoo! may be a superstar in Silicon Valley, but she's an enigma to most

Outside of the tech world, the news that Marissa Mayer was to be appointed the CEO of Yahoo! probably elicited quiet murmurs of confusion. For all that she is a (former) "superstar" Googler, she doesn't have anywhere near the recognition of the top tier of Silicon Valley bosses – the Larry Pages and Mark Zuckerbergs – nor really even the second tier, like Facebook's Sheryl Sandberg or Apple's Tim Cook.

If you want to know more about the sort of woman who cheerily states that "my maternity leave will be a few weeks long and I'll work throughout it," the Guardian's Josh Halliday and Charles Arthur have an excellent profile of her:

Eleven years ago on Thursday, Mayer was one of 15 Googlers behind the company's famous motto: Don't Be Evil. According to Steven Levy's In the Plex, published last year, Mayer was on the three-strong team who invented Google AdWords, the groundbreaking algorithm that linked advertisers' keywords to search results and helped deliver 96% of the company's $10.6bn revenues in the first quarter of last year.

Marissa Mayer. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.