Can accountants save the planet?

The heroes in pinstripe.

One striking thing that happened at the 2012 UN Earth Summit in Rio was hearing that it was the accountants that will save the planet. It also resonated in one of the most important themes I heard at Rio: valuation, measurement and disclosure. This speaks to the huge role accountants have to play in the creation of a more sustainable world - and it was great to see the profession at Rio in the form of IIRC, the Prince of Wales’ Accounting for Sustainability Project and ICAEW.

This theme was one of a number of that buzzed at the summit and side events including: natural capital; the discussions around articulating a set of sustainable development goals (SDGs); and the much more prominent role business had this time (so different from 1992). There also seemed to be a tacit question floating around about what the role of governments is; for this was not the world uniting in common cause for a higher purpose, this was c.190 separate nations gathering with very different agendas and interests.

These governments are struggling to address global issues that require them to aspire to an international public interest and yield a certain amount of sovereignty. It requires not compromise, a descent to the lowest common denominator, which is what we got, but consensus. This involves giving up some national interest for a greater good. Are the institutions of government and international governance capable of delivering that? The public doesn’t think so. We are witnessing a collapse in public trust in such institutions.  Just look at the latest Edelman Trust report where the most trusted of our institutions commands only 50 per cent of public trust. Respected commentators such as Naill Fergusson and Diane Coyle have written and spoken convincingly on the need for institutions that are fit for purpose.

But the success of any sustainable programme is predicated on successful measurement, valuation and disclosure. If we cannot measure the impact organisations are having on the natural environment then we certainly won’t be able to do anything about it. We need to value that impact not to put a price on nature in order to put it up for sale, but to show its value to stop it being economically invisible. This is the language of business and to engage business we need to speak its language. Reporting is important not just as disclosure to stakeholders and shareholders but, more importantly, in as management information to enable managers to make informed decisions. These are the functions that I would argue are the domain of accountants.

The management and public accounts create an image of the business that shapes perception and decision-making. Like any representation, these are not an unimpeded view; they include certain information and leave other things out, presenting a certain reality. So including other information, about environmental impact for example, will drive different understanding and a new reality and other decisions. That’s why accountants are important.

Richard Spencer is the Head of Sustainability for ICAEW

Accountants are important. Photograph: Getty Images

Richard Spencer, Head of Sustainability ICAEW

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Is there such a thing as responsible betting?

Punters are encouraged to bet responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly.

I try not to watch the commercials between matches, or the studio discussions, or anything really, before or after, except for the match itself. And yet there is one person I never manage to escape properly – Ray Winstone. His cracked face, his mesmerising voice, his endlessly repeated spiel follow me across the room as I escape for the lav, the kitchen, the drinks cupboard.

I’m not sure which betting company he is shouting about, there are just so many of them, offering incredible odds and supposedly free bets. In the past six years, since the laws changed, TV betting adverts have increased by 600 per cent, all offering amazingly simple ways to lose money with just one tap on a smartphone.

The one I hate is the ad for BetVictor. The man who has been fronting it, appearing at windows or on roofs, who I assume is Victor, is just so slimy and horrible.

Betting firms are the ultimate football parasites, second in wealth only to kit manufacturers. They have perfected the capitalist’s art of using OPM (Other People’s Money). They’re not directly involved in football – say, in training or managing – yet they make millions off the back of its popularity. Many of the firms are based offshore in Gibraltar.

Football betting is not new. In the Fifties, my job every week at five o’clock was to sit beside my father’s bed, where he lay paralysed with MS, and write down the football results as they were read out on Sports Report. I had not to breathe, make silly remarks or guess the score. By the inflection in the announcer’s voice you could tell if it was an away win.

Earlier in the week I had filled in his Treble Chance on the Littlewoods pools. The “treble” part was because you had three chances: three points if the game you picked was a score draw, two for a goalless draw and one point for a home or away win. You chose eight games and had to reach 24 points, or as near as possible, then you were in the money.

“Not a damn sausage,” my father would say every week, once I’d marked and handed him back his predictions. He never did win a sausage.

Football pools began in the 1920s, the main ones being Littlewoods and Vernons, both based in Liverpool. They gave employment to thousands of bright young women who checked the results and sang in company choirs in their spare time. Each firm spent millions on advertising. In 1935, Littlewoods flew an aeroplane over London with a banner saying: Littlewoods Above All!

Postwar, they blossomed again, taking in £50m a year. The nation stopped at five on a Saturday to hear the scores, whether they were interested in football or not, hoping to get rich. BBC Sports Report began in 1948 with John Webster reading the results. James Alexander Gordon took over in 1974 – a voice soon familiar throughout the land.

These past few decades, football pools have been left behind, old-fashioned, low-tech, replaced by online betting using smartphones. The betting industry has totally rebooted itself. You can bet while the match is still on, trying to predict who will get the next goal, the next corner, the next throw-in. I made the last one up, but in theory you can bet instantly, on anything, at any time.

The soft sell is interesting. With the old football pools, we knew it was a remote flutter, hoping to make some money. Today the ads imply that betting on football somehow enhances the experience, adds to the enjoyment, involves you in the game itself, hence they show lads all together, drinking and laughing and putting on bets.

At the same time, punters are encouraged to do it responsibly. What a laugh that is. It’s like encouraging drunks to get drunk responsibly, to crash our cars responsibly, murder each other responsibly. Responsibly and respect are now two of the most meaningless words in the football language. People have been gambling, in some form, since the beginning, watching two raindrops drip down inside the cave, lying around in Roman bathhouses playing games. All they’ve done is to change the technology. You have to respect that.

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 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war