Hester's successor: the runners and riders emerge

With seven figure salary, job hardly a "thankless task".

A successful sell off the State’s shareholding in Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS) seems further away than ever. The RBS share price continues to tank. RBS shares kicked off the year at around 366p each; today they are down to 288p, down 23 per cent for the year to date, the worst performing UK banking share. Take a bow Mr. Osborne.

Since his latest RBS comments at the Mansion House speech on 19 June, the share price has fallen by more than 30p. The kindest interpretation of the Chancellor’s intervention in the past 10 days relating to the future of RBS is that he has created fresh political confusion. Encouraging the RBS board to dispense with Stephen Hester prematurely did little in the short term for the RBS share price.

Just to really put the boot in, Osborne then performed a U-turn of stunning proportions by saying that he would examine a good bank/bad bank split at RBS. This proposal was one that Osborne had argued against consistently despite strong arguments in its favour from such distinguished advocates as Mervyn King and Lord (Nigel) Lawson. If such an argument had merits – and it had three year ago – that time has passed.

A period of silence from Mr. Osborne concerning RBS would be welcome for the foreseeable. Meantime, keep a close eye on possible obfuscation relating to the share price that the government requires to obtain to break even on its RBS share acquisition. The UK government currently holds 81.14 per cent of shares in RBS, having injected £45.5bn. The average government buy-in price was 502.26p.

According to RBS, the break-even price has dropped to 440.6p, taking into account fees that RBS has paid to the government. This does not however take inflation into account. A more accurate breakeven figure would be somewhere about 470p but the RBS website continues to promote the notion of 440p as the magic figure.

One thing that the Chancellor could do by way of damage limitation would be to encourage an acceleration of the process to appoint Stephen Hester’s successor. The RBS board does not have to look too far for the standout candidate. The bank has reportedly engaged the doyen of City headhunters, Anna Mann, co-founder of blue-chip consultancy MWM, to recruit Hester’s replacement. MWM certainly has form: it has recruited 16 of the current CEOs of the present FTSE 100. Ignore the guff in the press about the CEO of RBS being a thankless task.

The job carries a seven figure salary, generous bonuses and guaranteed recognition in a future Honours List for successful execution. The latest odds, courtesy of Ladbrokes, suggest that Chris Sullivan, RBS chief executive of corporate banking, is the favourite at 9/4. Nathan Bostock, RBS’ head of restructuring and risk and the early front-runner – Ladbrokes quoted him as short as 1/2 last week – has drifted like a barge out to 3/1. National Australia Bank Group CEO Cameron Clyne has attracted support and has been backed into 4-1 from an initial show of 6-1. As Investec analyst Ian Gordon argues today in a note to clients, Ross McEwan, CEO, UK Retail at RBS is a stand-out choice. This time last week, his odds were a generous 20-1. This morning, his odds have tumbled to 8-1.

Last Wednesday, just ahead of George Osborne’s Mansion House speech, I asked a group of senior bankers attending a meeting of The Digital Banking Club I was chairing, to name what they reckoned was the world’s leading retail bank. There was strong support for Royal Bank of Canada – a view with which I concurred by the by. Interestingly, the CEO of Royal Bank of Canada, Gordon Nixon, is quoted at 16/1 to succeed Hester.

But the retail bank currently most admired in my straw poll last week was Commonwealth Bank of Australia. Much of the credit for CBA’s current success can be attributed to the work of Ross McEwan. McEwan joined RBS in August last year from CBA where he was Group Executive for Retail Banking Services for 5 years.

If Osborne has to interfere again in the running of RBS – on balance it would be better if he did not – he could do worse than give a nudge to the RBS chairman and to his expensively engaged headhunter – to view McEwan as a worthy successor to Hester.

Hester ousted: who's next? Photograph: Getty Images

Douglas Blakey is the editor of Retail Banker International

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What it’s like to fall victim to the Mail Online’s aggregation machine

I recently travelled to Iraq at my own expense to write a piece about war graves. Within five hours of the story's publication by the Times, huge chunks of it appeared on Mail Online – under someone else's byline.

I recently returned from a trip to Iraq, and wrote an article for the Times on the desecration of Commonwealth war cemeteries in the southern cities of Amara and Basra. It appeared in Monday’s paper, and began:

“‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the engraving reads, but the words ring hollow. The stone on which they appear lies shattered in a foreign field that should forever be England, but patently is anything but.”

By 6am, less than five hours after the Times put it online, a remarkably similar story had appeared on Mail Online, the world’s biggest and most successful English-language website with 200 million unique visitors a month.

It began: “Despite being etched with the immortal line: ‘Their name liveth for evermore’, the truth could not be further from the sentiment for the memorials in the Commonwealth War Cemetery in Amara.”

The article ran under the byline of someone called Euan McLelland, who describes himself on his personal website as a “driven, proactive and reliable multi-media reporter”. Alas, he was not driven or proactive enough to visit Iraq himself. His story was lifted straight from mine – every fact, every quote, every observation, the only significant difference being the introduction of a few errors and some lyrical flights of fancy. McLelland’s journalistic research extended to discovering the name of a Victoria Cross winner buried in one of the cemeteries – then getting it wrong.

Within the trade, lifting quotes and other material without proper acknowledgement is called plagiarism. In the wider world it is called theft. As a freelance, I had financed my trip to Iraq (though I should eventually recoup my expenses of nearly £1,000). I had arranged a guide and transport. I had expended considerable time and energy on the travel and research, and had taken the risk of visiting a notoriously unstable country. Yet McLelland had seen fit not only to filch my work but put his name on it. In doing so, he also precluded the possibility of me selling the story to any other publication.

I’m being unfair, of course. McLelland is merely a lackey. His job is to repackage and regurgitate. He has no time to do what proper journalists do – investigate, find things out, speak to real people, check facts. As the astute media blog SubScribe pointed out, on the same day that he “exposed” the state of Iraq’s cemeteries McLelland also wrote stories about the junior doctors’ strike, British special forces fighting Isis in Iraq, a policeman’s killer enjoying supervised outings from prison, methods of teaching children to read, the development of odourless garlic, a book by Lee Rigby’s mother serialised in the rival Mirror, and Michael Gove’s warning of an immigration free-for-all if Britain brexits. That’s some workload.

Last year James King published a damning insider’s account of working at Mail Online for the website Gawker. “I saw basic journalism standards and ethics casually and routinely ignored. I saw other publications’ work lifted wholesale. I watched editors...publish information they knew to be inaccurate,” he wrote. “The Mail’s editorial model depends on little more than dishonesty, theft of copyrighted material, and sensationalism so absurd that it crosses into fabrication.”

Mail Online strenuously denied the charges, but there is plenty of evidence to support them. In 2014, for example, it was famously forced to apologise to George Clooney for publishing what the actor described as a bogus, baseless and “premeditated lie” about his future mother-in-law opposing his marriage to Amal Alamuddin.

That same year it had to pay a “sizeable amount” to a freelance journalist named Jonathan Krohn for stealing his exclusive account in the Sunday Telegraph of being besieged with the Yazidis on northern Iraq’s Mount Sinjar by Islamic State fighters. It had to compensate another freelance, Ali Kefford, for ripping off her exclusive interview for the Mirror with Sarah West, the first female commander of a Navy warship.

Incensed by the theft of my own story, I emailed Martin Clarke, publisher of Mail Online, attaching an invoice for several hundred pounds. I heard nothing, so emailed McLelland to ask if he intended to pay me for using my work. Again I heard nothing, so I posted both emails on Facebook and Twitter.

I was astonished by the support I received, especially from my fellow journalists, some of them household names, including several victims of Mail Online themselves. They clearly loathed the website and the way it tarnishes and debases their profession. “Keep pestering and shaming them till you get a response,” one urged me. Take legal action, others exhorted me. “Could a groundswell from working journalists develop into a concerted effort to stop the theft?” SubScribe asked hopefully.

Then, as pressure from social media grew, Mail Online capitulated. Scott Langham, its deputy managing editor, emailed to say it would pay my invoice – but “with no admission of liability”. He even asked if it could keep the offending article up online, only with my byline instead of McLelland’s. I declined that generous offer and demanded its removal.

When I announced my little victory on Facebook some journalistic colleagues expressed disappointment, not satisfaction. They had hoped this would be a test case, they said. They wanted Mail Online’s brand of “journalism” exposed for what it is. “I was spoiling for a long war of attrition,” one well-known television correspondent lamented. Instead, they complained, a website widely seen as the model for future online journalism had simply bought off yet another of its victims.