After what just happened to Chris Lucas, who'd be a banker?

Banker bashing is our new national sport.

Another week, another banker is on the podium. This week it’s the former Barclays’ finance director, Chris Lucas, who has just announced his retirement having joined the Bank in pre-recession in 2007.

Suddenly a flurry of questions surrounds him: Was he involved in the Libor scandal that forced his boss, Bob Diamond, to go?  Perhaps the current investigation into a suspicious loan to Qatar has something to do with it? Did Lucas leave on his own account or was there a gentle nudge by those seeking to clear out the Barclays "old guard"? (Mark Harding, Barclays Group General Counsel also announced his retirement having joined in 2003.) 

We simply don’t know yet. But so far all clues look innocent: apparently Lucas wanted to go two years ago, citing health reasons. He even waived his 2012 bonus because of the Libor scandal and insiders consider it unlikely he will part with a "golden handshake".

So why the tirade of questions? Is the retirement of a finance director really that interesting or perhaps banking needs a new villain? We want another Bob Diamond, another Fred Goodwin or Stephen Hester who we can point at and say, “You’re the problem”. Bored of the old banking stories, here is a something potentially new. Barclays has recently been beset by woes and the spotlight is on those walking out of the board room.    

While banker bashing has become endemic, a national sport, it is discouraging a generation from (what was) considered the top job. This scrutiny weighs heaviest on those, like Lucas, at board level. After announcing Lucas and Harding’s retirement, Barclays said, “Chris and Mark have agreed to remain in their roles until their successors have been appointed and an appropriate handover completed. The search for these appointments is now underway”. A job in banking anyone?   

Another week, another banker is on the podium. Getty Images

Oliver Williams is an analyst at WealthInsight and writes for VRL Financial News

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Pity the Premier League – so much money can get you into all sorts of bother

You’ve got to feel sorry for our top teams. It's hard work, maintaining their brand.

I had lunch with an old girlfriend last week. Not old, exactly, just a young woman of 58, and not a girlfriend as such – though I have loads of female friends; just someone I knew as a girl on our estate in Cumbria when she was growing up and I was friendly with her family.

She was one of many kind, caring people from my past who wrote to me after my wife died in February, inviting me to lunch, cheer up the poor old soul. Which I’ve not been. So frightfully busy.

I never got round to lunch till last week.

She succeeded in her own career, became pretty well known, but not as well off financially as her husband, who is some sort of City whizz.

I visited her large house in the best part of Mayfair, and, over lunch, heard about their big estate in the West Country and their pile in Majorca, finding it hard to take my mind back to the weedy, runny-nosed little girl I knew when she was ten.

Their three homes employ 25 staff in total. Which means there are often some sort of staff problems.

How awful, I do feel sorry for you, must be terrible. It’s not easy having money, I said, managing somehow to keep back the fake tears.

Afterwards, I thought about our richest football teams – Man City, Man United and Chelsea. It’s not easy being rich like them, either.

In football, there are three reasons you have to spend the money. First of all, because you can. You have untold wealth, so you gobble up possessions regardless of the cost, and regardless of the fact that, as at Man United, you already have six other superstars playing in roughly the same position. You pay over the odds, as with Pogba, who is the most expensive player in the world, even though any halfwit knows that Messi and Ronaldo are infinitely more valuable. It leads to endless stresses and strains and poor old Wayne sitting on the bench.

Obviously, you are hoping to make the team better, and at the same time have the luxury of a whole top-class team sitting waiting on the bench, who would be desired by every other club in Europe. But the second reason you spend so wildly is the desire to stop your rivals buying the same players. It’s a spoiler tactic.

Third, there’s a very modern and stressful element to being rich in football, and that’s the need to feed the brand. Real Madrid began it ten years or so ago with their annual purchase of a galáctico. You have to refresh the team with a star name regularly, whatever the cost, if you want to keep the fans happy and sell even more shirts round the world each year.

You also need to attract PROUD SUPPLIERS OF LAV PAPER TO MAN CITY or OFFICIAL PROVIDER OF BABY BOTTLES TO MAN UNITED or PARTNERS WITH CHELSEA IN SUGARY DRINK. These suppliers pay a fortune to have their product associated with a famous Premier League club – and the club knows that, to keep up the interest, they must have yet another exciting £100m star lined up for each new season.

So, you can see what strains and stresses having mega money gets them into, trying to balance all these needs and desires. The manager will get the blame in the end when things start to go badly on the pitch, despite having had to accommodate some players he probably never craved. If you’re rich in football, or in most other walks in life, you have to show it, have all the required possessions, otherwise what’s the point of being rich?

One reason why Leicester did so well last season was that they had no money. This forced them to bond and work hard, make do with cheapo players, none of them rubbish, but none the sort of galáctico a super-Prem club would bother with.

Leicester won’t repeat that trick this year. It was a one-off. On the whole, the £100m player is better than the £10m player. The rich clubs will always come good. But having an enormous staff, at any level, is all such a worry for the rich. You have to feel sorry . . .

Hunter Davies’s “The Beatles Book” is published by Ebury

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 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories