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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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

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 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times