There's a weirdly upbeat mood in the city

Are we in denial?

No one seems quite certain whether these are the best of times or the worst of times for the City. Well, OK, few think these are the best of times (that accolade still belongs somewhere back in the pre-2008 boom). But while there are still major problems in the banking sector, including what to what to do on executive pay and bonuses and how to deal with the fallout from scandals such as Libor-rigging and the sale of dodgy loan insurance products to SMEs and individual, there is nevertheless an upbeat mood in the air. This is most obviously epitomised by the FTSE 100 share index, which crashed confidently through the significant 6,300 mark last month and with only a few minor blips since has continued to regain heights not previously seen since before the crash.

But there has also been a noticeable upswing in corporate finance activity, with a rash of major M&A deals either done or on the cards.

In the last week there have been announcements about the leveraged buyout of a majority stake in computer giant Dell, the acquisition of Virgin Media by Liberty Global and even rumours of a private equity backed leveraged buyout of a significant chunk of the UK’s largest mobile telecom provider EE (formerly Everything Everywhere, itself formed from a merger between Orange and T-Mobile). All these deals point to a more buoyant start to 2013.

There have been several theories hatched to explain this sudden upswing. It started with a growing belief towards the end of last year (misguided according to the more bearish commentators) that the actions of the European Central Bank (ECB) and others have done enough to make the euro crisis recede, if not go away all together.

Then the US managed to avoid dropping off the fiscal cliff (again the bears would suggest that we’re not out of the woods here either, with a no real budget agreement struck and the pain merely deferred). But all these attempts to rationalize this upswing (which has so far not been matched by any sort of similar recovery in the real economy) don’t really explain it enough. Now, there will be plenty of people keen not to ask too many questions.

So desperate have we become for good news (any good news) that it seems like heresy to even question the source of any optimism.

The rest of this article can be read here, on economia

Photograph: Getty Images

Richard Cree is the Editor of Economia.

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Why do the words “soup, swoop, loop de loop” come to mind every time I lift a spoon to my lips?

It’s all thanks to Barry and Anita.

A while ago I was lending a friend the keys to our house. We keep spare keys in a ceramic pot I was given years ago by someone who made it while on an art-school pottery course. “That’s er . . . quite challenging,” the friend said of the pot.

“Is it?” I replied. “I’d stopped noticing how ugly it is.”

“Then it’s a grunty,” she said.

“A what?” I asked.

“A grunty. It’s something you have in your house that’s hideous and useless but you’ve stopped noticing it completely, so it’s effectively invisible.”

I was much taken with this idea and realised that as well as “grunties” there are also “gruntyisms”: things you say or do, though the reason why you say or do them has long since been forgotten. For example, every time we drink soup my wife and I say the same thing, uttered in a strange monotone: we say, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop.” How we came to say “soup, swoop, loop de loop” came about like this.

For a married couple, the years between your mid-thirties and your late forties might be seen as the decade of the bad dinner party. You’re no longer looking for a partner, so the hormonal urge to visit crowded bars has receded, but you are still full of energy so you don’t want to stay in at night, either. Instead, you go to dinner parties attended by other couples you don’t necessarily like that much.

One such couple were called Barry and Anita. Every time we ate at their house Barry would make soup, and when serving it he would invariably say, “There we are: soup, swoop, loop de loop.” After the dinner party, as soon as we were in the minicab going home, me and Linda would start drunkenly talking about what an arse Barry was, saying to each other, in a high-pitched, mocking imitation of his voice: “Please do have some more of this delicious soup, swoop, loop de loop.” Then we’d collapse against each other laughing, convincing the Algerian or Bengali taxi driver once again of the impenetrability and corruption of Western society.

Pretty soon whenever we had soup at home, Linda and I would say to each other, “Soup, swoop, loop de loop,” at first still ridiculing Barry, but eventually we forgot why we were saying it and it became part of the private language every couple develop, employed long after we’d gratefully ceased having soupy dinners with Barry and Anita.

In the early Nineties we had an exchange student staying with us for a year, a Maori girl from the Cook Islands in the southern Pacific. When she returned home she took the expression “soup, swoop, loop de loop” with her and spread it among her extended family, until finally the phrase appeared in an anthropological dissertation: “ ‘Soup swoop, loop de loop.’ Shamanistic Incantations in Rarotongan Food Preparation Rituals” – University of Topeka, 2001. 

This article first appeared in the 21 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The English Revolt