So how much is Wendi going to get?

Ex-Murdoch files.

News arrived yesterday afternoon that the marriage between an 82-year old billionaire media tycoon and his 44-year old employee-wife (younger than two of his children) has, surprisingly, not worked out. Yes, Rupert Murdoch has filed for divorce from Wendi Deng, who bravely threw herself between her hubbie and a shaving-foam pie, citing "irretrievable breakdown".

Murdoch is worth a mere $12 bn - so how much of that does Deng stand to get? As Murdoch has filed in New York, we may never know - they are tight on the privacy of settlements. If Deng stars wearing diamond-studded solid-gold skirts, you can guess it's quite a lot.

But was he wise to file in New York? As Spear's reported late last year, "The courts of London and New York share reputations as being receptive to large divorce claims." If you look at the five legal cases which have shaped modern English divorce (the fifth of which was only delivered this week), English law definitely favours the poorer party, from using a 50/50 starting point to "piercing the corporate veil". English courts also take all assets into account.

By contrast, Suzanne Kingston and Michael Gouriet of Withers wrote, 'New York courts follow a different approach, identifying property of the parties as being either "marital property" (which generally includes assets earned during marriage) or "separate property." New York courts will "equitably distribute" the "marital property," but not the "separate property" (which generally includes pre-marital assets and inherited assets).

Always innovative, however, New York courts have expanded the traditional notion of "marital property" to include (and have placed very significant values on) various "intangible assets" such as educational degrees and professional licences, as well as business "enterprise value", and certain types of appreciation on "separate property".

So a New York settlement looks like it will have many more boxes to tick, rather than a "simple" pile-up of assets.

Finally, prenups are much longer established in America than in England, where they weren't given legal weight until the case of Radmacher v Granatino in 2010. In fact, they are not binding in England if their terms are felt too unfair (however a judge construes that), so their recent validity is susceptible to undermining.

Their two children will have to be taken into account, too: courts will ensure that they are provided for, even if (as is highly unlikely) they were ignored in a prenup.

It is probably easy to predict that Deng's settlement will be more than sufficient for most, but within that great range of millions-to-billions, there are an awful lot of points a judge might choose to stop at.

Update: Reuters reports on another billionaire tycoon divorce, of Harold Hamm (money from Continental Resources oil co) from Sue Ann. They do not, say Reuters, have a pre-nup, which means his $11 bn fortune is up for grabs. The piece is worth a read to see how things might have looked for the Murdochs.

This story first appeared on Spears magazine

In happier times. Photograph: Getty Images

Josh Spero is the editor of Spear's magazine.

Felipe Araujo
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Hull revisited: What happens when a Brexit stronghold becomes City of Culture?

We report from Hull, to find out if you can replace the kind of nostalgia that led to a Leave vote with cultural investment.

At 75 metres long, the offshore wind turbine blade erected across Queen Victoria Square, in the heart of Hull, is a sculpture intended to mark a new chapter in the city’s history. For the next 12 months, Hull, a city of more than a quarter of a million people in the northeast of England, will be the UK’s City of Culture.

The 28-tonne blade hails from the local Siemens plant. The German technology company employs around 1,000 people in the area, making it Hull’s biggest single employer.

Seen up close in this context – laid dormant in the middle of a town square instead of spinning up in the air generating energy – the structure is meant to remind passersby of a giant sea creature. It is also, I’m told, an allusion to Hull’s rich maritime history.


All photos: Felipe Araujo

Nostalgia is a big thing in this part of the country. At one point, Hull was the UK’s third largest port but technology and privatisation drastically changed that. The battle over cod fishing with Iceland in the waters of the North Sea 40 years ago has also dealt a major blow to a region with a long and proud trawling tradition.

People here still talk about a bygone era when the fishing industry provided jobs for everyone and there was enough money to go around.

Fast forward to 2017, and the country’s new capital of culture is the same city that voted 67 per cent in favour of leaving the EU last June. Its new-found prestige, it seems, is not enough to erase years of neglect by a political class “too busy for commoners like us”, as one resident puts it.

“More than a message to Brussels, it [the Brexit vote] was a message to Westminster,” Paul Leeson-Taylor, a filmmaker born and bred in Hull, tells me. “For the first time in a long time people in Hull felt like they had the chance to change something, and they took it.”

But while speaking to people on the high street and hanging out with locals at the Community Boxing Club in Orchard Park, one of the city’s most deprived areas, there is one word that consistently popped up in conversation – more than any specific policy from Westminster or the much-hated rules “dictated” by Brussels. Foreigners.

According to official figures, Hull’s population is 89.1 per cent white British. Still, immigration is big on people’s minds here.

During my two-day stay in the city, I find myself being the only black person in most places I visit – I’m certainly the only black guy at the boxing club. So when someone begins a sentence with “I’m not racist but…”, I know a tirade on immigrants is about to ensue.

“There are just too many of them,” Nick Beach, an estate agent whose Polish clientele is a big part of his business, tells me as he is about to teach a boxing class to local children. Beach was born in Shepherd’s Bush, in West London, but has been living in Hull for the last 20 years.

“When I go down there these days and go into Westfield shopping centre, it is very rare you get an English person serving you now,” he says. “I just find it disappointing that you go into your capital city and you are a minority there.”

These are the much-discussed “left behind”, a white working-class community that has gained particular prominence in a time of Brexit and Donald Trump. Under economic pressure and facing social change, they want to have their say in running a country they claim to no longer recognise.

For Professor Simon Lee, a senior politics lecturer at the University of Hull, immigration is only a superficial layer when it comes to explaining the resentment I witness here. For him, the loss of the empire 70 years ago is still something that as a country Britain hasn’t come to terms with.

“The reason for us to be together as a United Kingdom has gone, so what is the project?”

As destiny would have it, a foreign company will now play a major role on Hull’s economic future, at least in the short term. In the wake of the Brexit vote, there were widespread fears Siemens would pull out of the region and take its factory elsewhere. With the massive blade looming large in the background, Jason Speedy, director of the blade factory in Hull, assures me that isn’t the case.

“The Brexit decision has made no difference. We have made our investment decision, so Siemens, together with the Association of British Ports, has put in £310m. It’s all full steam ahead.”

As Hull becomes the country’s cultural hub for the next few months, the hope is that its residents stop looking back and start looking forward.

For Professor Lee, though, until there is a complete change in the power structures that run the country, the north-south divide will remain – with or without the EU. “The way you kill nostalgia is to have something new,” he said. “The reason why people here are nostalgic is because there is nothing to replace it with.”

Felipe Araujo is a freelance journalist based in London. He writes about race, culture and sports. He covered the Rio Olympics and Paralympics on the ground for the New Statesman. He tweets @felipethejourno.